Saturday, April 30, 2011

I'm Devoting Weeks of My Life To This?

BEWARE: THIS PARTICULAR BLOG ENTRY CONTAINS THE ANGSTY RANTS OF A STRESSED OUT TEENAGER. PRACTICE EXTREME CAUTION BEYOND THIS POINT!            

            I seriously owe my blog an entry, I skipped two days, and I'm extremely sorry! This is why I am currently writing this at 4:30 in the afternoon while I'm giving myself a half hour break from studying to let my brain have a chance to recover from U.S. History overload instead of doing what I usually do: saving my blog for around 10:30 at night, right before I go to bed. However for the past several nights, I haven't been staying up until way later than I should to fit in a blog entry. No, no, no, it's being spent cramming for a little thing called: the AP US History test that will take place in a measly 135 hours (less than six days!)
            Let me clarify for those who aren't familiar with the concept of AP tests. Note that this test does not have any impact on my grade in the class whatsoever. The test is actually optional, I am in no way required to take it. The point? If I do well enough on it, I can receive a certain amount of college credit (depending on the college I go to and my score on the test). And let me tell you...I do NOT want to be repeating this class in college. I desire to go into the medical field. Last time I checked, doctors usually aren't required to be particularly versed in the accomplishments of Andrew Jackson in the Battle of New Orleans (War of 1812).
           If that's not enough pressure upon this test, my score could actually impact my GPA as well. When I receive my test score, I will get somewhere between a one and a five (one being the lowest possible and five being the highest possible). If I get a three, four, or five on this one test, instead of my GPA being based on a 4.5 grading scale for an honors class, it will be graded on a 5.0 scale as an AP (advanced placement) class. Meaning: my B I got first semester would count as if it was an A when incorporated into my GPA. In short: I REALLY WANT A THREE, FOUR, OR FIVE ON THIS TEST! So that fact is basically what's taken control of every spare amount of time I've had for the past week and a half or so. Should have started studying earlier? Yeah, I know.
           BUT on a positive note: did you know that the cold war was a "war of words caused by differences in economic and political beliefs between the United States and the U.S.S.R.?"....my life for the next 135 hours. (Credit due to my Barron's AP US History flashcards)
           800 flashcards, three AP books, four iPhone apps, and 135 hours to go...let's do this.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

All By Myself

               Alone. All by myself. Privacy. Lacking company. Detached. Isolated from the rest of the world. This is something that is craved by millions. They just want to get away from the rest of the world to be alone with their own thoughts for a while. Parents long to get away from their children for some peace and quiet. Teenagers want to get away from their parents for freedom to do what they wish. Students want to get away from school to relax. Sometimes everyone just needs to have their alone time. A time to sit and really be able to think and not have anyone else infringe upon that. However, being alone is also one some people's biggest fear.
               It's said that someone just "needs to get away", they need to be alone, and be able to think clearly. But once that privacy is granted, it's nice for a while; until the silence starts to become overwhelming. Everyone around that you could turn to, someone to talk to, or even just to be around another person, is gone, because you told them to leave. The freedom feels great for a while. You can finally get things done that you're never able to without distraction surrounding you. You don't have to worry about being too loud, or compromising about what to watch on TV. Then hours have passed, and you begin to miss the feeling that your family or friends are right around the corner.
              In relationships one side of it will say "I just need some space for a while" to be alone, or explore other options, whatever. Then there are millions of people in this world who are absolutely terrified of ending up alone. That's the worst that could happen to them. It's just ironic to me. Privacy, freedom to do anything you want without a family or relationship holding you back, is something that is craved by so many. However being alone is something most feared in this world. Yet privacy and being alone are essentially the same thing. The one difference I see: privacy will come to an end. Being alone is forever.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Don't Complain, 'Cause Baby I Was Born This Way

              Sorry to all of those Glee haters out there, but I am an admitted "Gleek". Bursting out into song at the most random times possible with obscure show tunes...that's basically my life, so it makes sense for me. Today's Glee episode was all based upon the prospect of loving yourself, the good, the bad, and the ugly, all put together with a fabulous Lady Gaga number at the end, performing her (of course) "Born This Way". Everyone is ashamed. It can be about a particular aspect of their appearance. It can be a personality flaw. A personal preference, their past, or maybe event their future. We all like to say that we walk with our heads held high, and we love ourselves no matter what, resulting in an unfaltering self-confidence. However, no one, and I mean no one can say they don't have one thing about them that they wish they could change.
             Our society puts so much weight upon appearance. :The exact aspects of a person that make them unique and who they are are the same things that they are tortured and ridiculed for, if not by bullies in school, by their own self-conscience. Girls will do everything in their power to change their appearance. Starving themselves, packing on the pounds of makeup. Even cosmetic surgery in some extreme cases of low self esteem.  When I was in elementary school, I thought I was just the most awesome and beautiful girl in the world. However, with growing up came realization that I wasn't. I wasn't the most beautiful, funny, or talented person. I have flaws, as everyone does. But in my middle school days I couldn't see past my slightly larger than normal nose, and I could only dream of the day when I was old enough to get a nose job.
            I saw my nose as something that would hold me back for the rest of my life, because it wasn't perfect. For a while, I just wanted to hide away, because I thought I was ugly. I thought I couldn't ever compare with the barbie-esque girls of my school. It took a very wise beyond her years girl who ended up becoming my best friend to show me that I was beautiful, not in spite of my flaws, but because of them. That any other nose, and I wouldn't be me anymore. With this realization, came an epiphany with my personality as well. That I was never to change myself for anyone, no matter what. my personality certainly isn't perfect. I put my foot in my mouth all the time, I'm nosier than anyone should be, I'm awkward in dozens of social situations, but hey, I love myself. Not in an "I'm perfect, everyone should adore me" way, but in a "I don't want to be anyone else, because I am me" sort of way. And this is how everyone should feel.
            If I didn't have that friend to teach my these things, I don't know how I would have ended up as a person? Would I still be my quirky and flawed self? Or would I be a fake alternate version of myself that changed herself too much to even know who she is anymore? Who's to say. All I know, is that you should love who you are. Big noses, small lips, weirdly shaped eyes, big ears, no matter what your thing is. Embrace is, make it work, flaunt it, and love it.

"Don;t hide yourself in regret, just love yourself and you're set. I'm on the right track baby, I was born this way." - Lady Gaga

Monday, April 25, 2011

It's So Bad I Can't Not Look At It!

                 Something I don't think I've mentioned in this blog as of yet is that my favorite TV show of all time is by far the hilarity encompassed in the show: Friends. The show is pure comedy genius (if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend paying your local library a trip to check out the series), and this is why I quote it so often that I don't even notice I do it anymore (an example being my blog entry titled: "Do A Little Dance, Make A Little Love...Well Basically Get Down Tonight"). When one of the characters Rachel sees two of her best friends in the middle of a romantic disaster, she says "oooh my god, I can't not look at it!", almost covering her eyes because it's so awful, but it's so bad she just can't look away. I can relate this to so many thousands of things in my daily life. The one I'd like to focus on: movies.
                 There are hundreds of deep, emotional, and all around epically crafted movies out there for people to experience. Titanic, Good Will Hunting, The Shawshank Redemption, movies that really make people have to think and analyze to understand their true depth and meaning. Then there are movies like what I witnessed tonight. Those movies that are so absolutely awful: the acting, the writing, just all around painful to sit through, yet they are just so bad, that they're actually quite good. Tonight I watched The Lizzie McGuire Movie for the first time in years. The first time I saw it as my innocent eight year old self thought it was just about the best movie EVER! Now watching it at sixteen, I notice so much more about its extreme flaws in almost every area. However, it's the atrocious lip syncing when Hilary Duff is yelling out: "This is what dreams are made of!" that makes it wonderful.
                 My other big example being the genius that is From Justin To Kelly, if you remember the first winner and runner up of American Idol made a movie together. But not just a movie, a movie that has instances where they randomly break into really sappy or irrelevant songs! It's the poorly coordinated dance scenes and flaky romance that makes the movie absolutely wonderful! My friends Stephanie and I couldn't go more than a sleepover or two without having to pop it into the DVD player and watch as Kelly sings to Justin about how she knew he was the one for her when they met on spring break.
                Epic and deep movies that make you feel extremely accomplished after you watch them are wonderful,k there is no denying it. However, I believe that these movies that are so bad that you just can't look away are good for the soul. You need one every once and a while, in a way I guess it kind of puts things into perspective. 

Sunday, April 24, 2011

It Just...Slipped Out

              One day, I'll really have to learn my own lessons and practice what I preach. I, like everyone else in this world, put my foot in my mouth from time to time. For me, I have a horrible tendency to do this about three to four times a day - ask my friends and family, it's true. I'll say things without thinking it through; without even considering the possible repercussions. In my case, it's getting angry and all fired up about things that just don't matter in the least.
            I'm not like some people, I do have some common sense, I know when to keep my mouth closed in public. I know when it's appropriate to say what around my friends. My parents and my teachers starting in preschool drilled into my head: "think before you act" or in this case, "think before you speak". Usually, I'm good about this around almost everyone. Unfortunately, this "almost everyone" that I'm good around...doesn't include my family that I'm all too comfortable getting crazy around.
            Most things that go wrong, I can really let go as if it's nothing in school or around friends. But there are certain random things that for some reason, just start this fire within me, and I feel like I'm about to explode if I don't let it out. If I'm in public or with friends, I can contain myself. However, being around my family is another story. I feel like they've seen me at my best and worst, so it won't make a difference to them if I freak out. So if one of those weird random things happens that really gets me mad, I'll just let it all out. One of these weird things is when something doesn't work, and I can't figure it out. This can be while studying for a test covering material I don't understand, or if an electronic is malfunctioning and I can't fix it. For some reason, this is infinitely frustrating to me, and I just can't deal with it.
           My other big thing is not feeling safe. Feeling like I'm in danger scares me so much, and it's just another thing that I absolutely can't deal with. So if I'm around my family and I can't understand a math unit or I feel unsafe in some way, I will have no reserves just bursting out into hysterics. Then, ten minutes later, I look back on how I behaved and I'm embarrassed and ashamed of myself. Sometimes, even while I'm in hysterics, I'll know I should stop, but for some reason that spark of anger within me just needs to let it out.
          Advice (of which I should take myself): if you feel that spark of anger within you, and you know you're going to need to yell at something because you're so frustrated, think about investing in a punching bag of some sort. I'm thinking it'll help. That way you won't make your family wish they could use you as a punching bag.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Praise The Lord!

               I wouldn't exactly call myself the most religious girl in the world....actually, you could probably call me about the least religious person in the world. I consider myself my own form of Agnostic. I was raised in a very much religiously neutral family. My parents didn't want to brainwash my sisters and I to believe exactly what they believed it, they wanted us to decide on our own when we were old enough. In many ways, that's one of the things about my parents I admire most. They raised us to make our own decisions instead of pressing theirs upon us, saying this is what we NEED to believe in. I say I'm Agnostic because I believe that there may be a God...maybe not. There are hundreds of different religions and beliefs out there in the world, who's to say which one is right? There is absolutely no scientific proof of any of them being more true than the other...so why label it? My motto when it comes to religion is: ".....dunno...." with a casual shrug of the shoulders. There's no way to possibly know, so why claim that you do?
               Disclaimer: I am NOT trying to slam upon all of those hardcore Christians, Jewish, or anyone at all. I think in some ways, religion is a wonderful thing. It gives large masses of people a method of feeling better. It gives hope when things aren't going to great. It gives faith, a sense of love from their lord, a sense of belonging, and a sense of meaning, and I think that's great. However, in some ways, I also believe that religion is a scapegoat. When something goes terribly wrong, many will say that it was the will of God that this happened, through no fault of their own. How many times in a day do we say "Oh my God!"? Well next time you use those words, think of what you're saying. It's basically saying "Oh wow! God, what are you doing?" Usually used with shock or disbelief. Like I said....scapegoat. Something to blame.
              The biggest upside to religion, I believe: it has the ability to straighten someone out. I think of how many thousands of books that have been written all about how God gave the strength to someone who completely ruined their lives through alcohol, drugs, crime, or anything of the sort to completely turn things around for themselves. I believe that to be true to an extent. I think that religion a lot of the time can scare someone into becoming a better person. It gives some the discipline needed to make something out of themselves.
              Please note, I am not trying to start any arguments or get anyone mad. I realize that religion is quite the touchy subject, which is why I'm not going to get into some of the more negative affects I have seen of religion. Moral of the story being: just because I don't believe in something, doesn't mean I think it's all bad. For some reason, when some people who are Christian (and pretty much everyone in my school is), finds out I'm Agnostic, their guard goes up, and they automatically think I'm some religion hater. Not true, I think there are good points and bad points, I just simply choose not to get involved with it all. Give those who aren't religious a chance, trust me, they're not all awful people.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

You Like Me, You Really Like Me!

               She glides across the stage to accept her glamorous award, and she says "You like me! You really like me!" Sally Field will never live that one down. It's been redone in so many different movies and parodies done to make fun of her flabbergasted moment in the spotlight. It's late, and I have a math test tomorrow, so this has to be to the point.
               Honor. This is something that we all of course strive for. There are so many hundreds of thousands of things done in a day that deserve to be honored and recognized in this world, however they're not even mentioned in the least. Then there are some things that are really quite minute and insignificant that are made quite a big deal out of. Today I was to be in an "induction ceremony" into the National French Honor Society. Sound prestigious enough? Well in order to get this "extremely prestigious honor", I had to have a 3.0 GPA (a B- Average), and fill out an application. In this application it was a requirement to show an interest in French culture. Some things that qualified: seeing a French movie or eating at a French restaurant. And for this, we got a huge ceremony. We lit candles and everything.
              Where's the ceremony for the real accomplishments that happen in our world - not even the world, just in our school. Doesn't the girl who volunteered over one hundred hours at the local hospital deserve a certificate? What about the boy who single-handedly organized a food drive and fund raiser for the local food pantry, where's his pin? For some reason, walking across that stage and receiving that certificate today just made me feel incredibly arrogant for celebrating the fact that we're supposedly so great for working hard in a class that will look good on our college resumes, while we could be celebrating something that helped others instead of just ourselves.
               Just something to think about. However, I do like my pin and certificate.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Mama, I'm A Big Girl Now

                "Stop! Don't! No!" "Be back by ten!" "Remember to brush your teeth!" "Go right to sleep!" These are the words of parents, and as annoying as these phrases may be sometimes, they;re the mark of a good parent. I heard that last phrase just a few minutes ago, that it was time for me to turn in for the night and that I shouldn't write my blog for the night, so to appease my parents, I'll make this short...ish.
                It's not a normal day of school without someone complaining about the latest "evils" of their mom or dad. "My mom grounded me for missing my curfew by just a couple of hours!" "My dad yelled at me for adding chemistry to my ever-growing list of classes I'm failing!" And these are almost always followed by: "they are so unfair!" I've been so incredibly immersed in Hairspray lately, I feel compelled to quote it: "Stop telling me what to do-o! Don't treat me like a child of two. I know that you want what's best, but mother please give it a rest! Mama, I'm a big girl now!" I hear about some of the things that my friends' parents let their children get away with, and I'm left awestruck! "Oh my Mom doesn't care if I'm out all night, as long as I text her or leave a note." Then again, there are parents I hear about that I think are just a little too uptight: "No, you can't wear a pink hair extension clip in your hair for the day! I love your pretty blond hair, don't defile it!"
               The perfect medium between too uptight and a little too lenient is an extremely fine line. I'm sure it's a never ending question as a parent. My parents were just questioning if I, a sixteen year old (a pretty low key and responsible one if I do say so myself), am old, mature, or responsible enough to stay a night in my own house alone. And some may see this as ridiculous that they don't trust me enough to stay by myself, I mean, what's going to happen to me in one night? But the other side of the story is: I like that my parents worry so much about me. I like that they text  to check in every once in a while if I'm out with friends or driving alone. The world is scary, and while I'm getting older, and soon enough I'm going to have to get used to my parents not always being there for me every time I stumble....I love that I can always trust my ever-loving parents to be worried sick about me...as infuriating as some may find it.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

All Good Things Must Come To An End

                It's over. The fat lady has sung, the curtain has fallen, time to go and leave it all behind. Over the years, we have found as a species that when something is really great, the time in which it occurs seems to accelerate so much that it's hard to enjoy it while you're in the midst of it. It's just flashing by too quickly. No matter how wonderful or spectacular something is, it must come to an end eventually. I witnessed proof of that today.
               Over the past few days, I have been volunteering at my old middle school to do the hair and makeup of the cast of their production of Hairspray. I was in the musicals every year myself when I was a middle schooler. Today was their last show, and the memories of my last shows in the choruses of High School Musical and Les Miserables. Before the last show, the dressing rooms and makeup areas are filled with flashes of cameras, and extra jitters to make the last show the best one. The show is as wonderful as could be, and then after the curtain falls, the eighth graders whose last year it is at the middle school - boys and girls alike -  break down into tears.
               Being in something that takes as much incredible amounts of time and energy as it does to put on a show the caliber of this isn't something that can be taken lightly. It becomes something so big that your life revolves around it for the several months of many hour practices a day, running lines, and rehearsing dances that when it's all taken away so suddenly, you feel just a little bit empty for a while. However, during these months of rehearsal, it's a never ending stream of complaints of exhaustion and fatigue. The songs get repetitive, and you're just ready for it to be over. Then when it's done, you couldn't want anything more than to have just one more show.
               I find the similar effect with almost anything. Take school dances: during them, it's a crazy amount of fun, but your feet are killing you, it's boiling hot, swaying your hips back and forth has begun to seem a little redundant, and your ears are begin to take on a high pitched ringing sound. Then when it's all over, you just want to relive the night in your head over and over again. Vacations is the other big one. When you've been gone from home for a week and you're still in a hotel, eating foreign food, struggling to understand the heavily accented voices around you, you begin to long for the comfort of your own bed. Then when you're back, you can't believe the vacation ended so soon.
             These amazing things can last a few hours, weeks, months, years, maybe even for the rest of your life...but like I said, sooner or later, all good things must come to an end eventually. So when you're living through something great, stop and look around. Make sure you're experiencing it from the inside out, you'll regret the end a lot less, and have a lot more memories to relive when all is said and done.
             The curtain has fallen.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Seasonal Purgatory

                 Springtime! The season of flowers blooming, the smell of warm rain in the air. The grass is growing, each day is warmer and warmer. It's a beautiful season! NOT! I absolutely hate spring, it's my least favorite season of them all. While I have been enjoying all of the rain, otherwise, it's a miserable time of the year. Summer and winter are what I like to think of as "definite" seasons. They're warm or cold, one way or the other, no matter what. In winter, you wear your winter coat if you ever step outside the house, no exceptions. In summer it's hot, you can be confident in your decision to wear shorts and a tank top without checking the weather forecast.
                Fall and spring are what I like to think of as "purgatory" seasons. Seasons in which you must constantly check the temperature in order to determine what is appropriate to wear the next day. They are seasons of great change and transition. Luckily, in fall, the transition is very smooth and quick. The changing period is beautiful with the leaves changing colors to gorgeous reds and oranges. And in a period of just a couple of weeks, it goes from warm to cold, no big deal. Then there's spring. The worst of them all. It's dreadful months on end of a giant question mark in regards to weather. Less than a week ago it was eighty degrees. We broke out the shorts, played tennis outside, it was great. Today: it snowed.
                That's the big reason to absolutely detest spring. Then there's the fact of what's customarily happening in each of these seasons. Summer is great just because we're out of school. We're free to have all the time we want to ourselves. Sleep in, hang out with friends, stay out late. It's a time of freedom. In fall, school's just started, everything's exciting and new. Football (marching band) season, school hasn't quite gotten hard yet. With winter comes my favorite holidays: Christmas, New Years, AND my birthday. Also, I like the clothes I wear in winter better than the clothes I have for summer (superficial, I know, but I consider it important). But winter's my favorite because everyone really seems to be in a good mood for most of this season. Maybe because the Christmas season is upon us, but I think that the never ending possibility of a snow day, the looming holiday ahead, it just makes everything better.
                Then there's spring. School is STILL in session, feeling like it will never end. Everyone is just going through the motions while their minds are really just set on plans for the season to come. This seasonal purgatory that has a beautiful facade, isn't so beautiful on the inside.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Commitment Issues

                Get ready, because I'm about to be a humongous hypocrite! I can't stand it when people start things that they are really committed to, enthusiastic about, and obsess over for a week, or maybe even over a month, but then just completely give up on it. This is worst when they're committed to something that's making a difference in the world, and they give up simply because they "don't feel like it." Commitment is a problem with everyone in this universe. For me, it's hard to even commit to a choice of what to have for dinner. I'll get out four or five potential meals and mull over the decision for twenty minutes before deciding what to eat.
               This comes up because at the moment, it's 11:33 P.M....I've been up since 5:50 A.M...I'm exhausted (explaining why my thoughts may not be extremely cohesive). I got in bed, and I thought to myself "nahh, it's late, I'm tired, no one will miss it if I don't write a blog tonight." So I began to read a book, but then a new thought crossed my mind: "what will reading this stupid vampire chick-flick of a book do to change any life in the slightest way? I'm committed to my blog, and you know what, who cares about what my reader count is at the end of the day? I do my blog for me, to document my thoughts. It's my commitment, and I'm sticking to it!" 
               The term: "commitment issues" is often used to describe a state of men in which they refuse to settle down with their girlfriend because they have trouble being able to commit to just one woman for the rest of their lives. But a relationship is not the only thing one should be committed to. So when you start a project, regardless of what it is: extra credit for school, a really big book, exercising more, blogging close to every day, or writing in a daily journal, if it's something you're enthusiastic about, stick to it. If one night you don't "feel like" sticking to it, the next night it will escalate to: "well I didn't do it last night, why do it tonight?" and eventually you've given up on something you were so excited about! So find a project you can get enthusiastic and passionate about, and follow through. No matter how tired you are, just push through, and it will be worth it again.
               And my eyelids fall.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Look Out Behind You...

                 BOO! Yes, I'm sure I scared you severely - watch out for nightmares tonight. I just had a very interesting conversation with my Mom and I thought to myself: "you know what....I think I just found what I'm going to blog about". Fears. Those things that just put you a little on edge, all the way to that which makes you ready to burst into hysterics at any moment. We all have them, regardless of how irrational the fear may be. Today's lunch conversation with my friends conveniently had to do with fears as well, however that was exclusively discussing our mutual fear for bugs. That is of course one of the most common fears. The creepy crawly feeling one gets when they spy a bug on the wall. They never scared me as a child, but after hearing my 7th grade science teacher's story of how he almost died (twice) of a brown recluse spider bite, I've never been able to shake the fear I feel if I ever see a spider that I will get fatally bitten.
                There are things that we grow up being told that we should be afraid of - what it's normal to fear. Things from bugs, to heights, to what lies in one's closet. As a child, these were not the things that scared me. My big fears started with the fear of house fires. I have a bunk bed (yes, I am just awesome like that), and I thought that since I wouldn't be able to roll out of bed in case of a fire, I would get suffocated in the fumes of the flames. Eventually, I grew out of that fear, and I moved onto tornadoes (after understanding what was actually happening in The Wizard of Oz) I was terrified any time there was a tornado watch out (and I live in the midwest, we had them from time to time). However, neither of these fears are my longest running or greatest fears.
                 When I'm in my bed, sleep coming nearer and nearer, and all of a sudden thud! Crack! Whoosh! Clank! I would hear a noise in the night. If it was during a time I knew my parents were still awake, I could easily blame it on them, and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep feeling as safe as can be. But when my parents shut the door to their bedroom for the night, any noise I heard in the house brought immediate images of armed and dangerous burglars, ready to bind and gag me at any minute. Now I live in a big house along with two sisters, two parents, and two very rest less cats. Random creaking is bound to happen. However for years upon years, almost every single night I would hear a noise that pushed me to get out of bed and check the locks around the house.
                  Call this little thing obsessive compulsive if you must, but assuring myself that my house contained nothing but my family and my cats made me feel infinitely better. But if I didn't check, I couldn't sleep for hours. In the past year or so, I've managed to shake that little habit, however I've found myself from time to time feeling the urge to get up and check the locks due to a noise I may have heard.
                    Everyone has fears. Some as simple as small crawling creatures looking for residence in your house. Some are irrational and crazy like the fear of clowns or pudding. For some like me, it's fearing what exactly the darkness and stillness of night may be hiding in its shadows. It's okay to be afraid sometimes. However my fear drove me to do somewhat crazy things. However I wouldn't take them back. You never know what may be hiding....right around the corner.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Middle School...Those Were The Days

             Today as I'm walking towards my old middle school I attended just a short two years ago, I commented to my friend, "you know, I really miss middle school." She was incredulous, and replied that she had the exact opposite sentiment. She thought that middle school was an awkward time that doesn't even compare to the high school life. While I have to agree with her in some respects that high school is quite a bit better in the social aspect, returning to my middle school reminded me of the serious advantages of the pre-high school days.
             I remember first weeks of high school being a huge shock to me. In middle school, I didn't have to study for anything really at all. I got straight A report cards, I didn't really care at all about the work I turned in. The night before a test I barely even have the upcoming exam on my mind. Whereas now as a high schooler today, I have a U.S. History test tomorrow, and it's basically all I can think about. The only things going through my mind are the dates of major World War II battles, and the Jewish casualties on the Night of Broken Glass (Kristallnacht).
             Middle school was also a time when it was easy to shine. There weren't all that many students (much less than half of my current class). Within this group of students, you could find at least one, if not many, different areas to stand out in. Whether it was academics, leadership, performing arts, sports, whatever your thing may be. I recall feeling on top of the world when I was in middle school. I was in student ambassadors, a wrestling manager, in the chorus of the musicals, getting A's, first chair clarinet, I was living the dream. But then high school hits, and everyone is so smart and talented and wonderful, it's really hard to find anywhere in which you can stand out from the crowd.
              High school is probably better in the ways that freedom is increased by a landslide, you finally  have your group of friends you fit in with solidified, bigger school, definitely more entertaining and dramatic. I do love high school, and if I were given the choice, I would pick it over middle school. But sometimes, I can't help missing the feeling that I knew everyone in my class. The feeling that my life still had so many millions of places to go, that I was barely getting started. Now I feel like the finish line in the race of childhood is emerging, getting closer and closer by the day. Middle school was a time of limited pressure. A time when possibilities were endless. So now, as I digress from this blog entry, I must go study for the AP U.S. History test.....yes, that makes sense.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Nothing But The Clothes On My Back

               Fashion. It can be defined as a certain manner in which something is done. It can be what's "in", what's "hot and not". We judge everyone we see on a daily basis by their fashion. But put most simply: it's the clothes you put upon your back. Something to cover your skin and offer protection. But since the beginning of society, fashion has meant so much more than that. It's been a marker. That marker may indicate who one is as a person, their class, one's mood, or social status. Some love to blend in, while others do everything in their power to stand out from the crowd. Me? Well...I'm definitely not one to fit in.
               In my high school, I'd say about 85% of the girls in the school wear either a "hoodie" zipped halfway up over a tank top or a t-shirt from some kind of program in school that they're a part of three out of five days of the week. There's nothing wrong with this style, it's what girls of my school are comfortable in. However, with the clothes I choose to wear, I love to get artistic with it. I go for different looks that not everyone likes, and that's okay. Not everything I put together is gorgeous, but to quote Good Will Hunting (my favorite movie of all time), "at least I won't be unoriginal."
               I go for suspenders, big bows in my hair, patterned tights (they are possibly my favorite thing!), changing my hair every day, one skirt over another (which in all honesty, I stole from my sister, but I do love it!), etc. Sometimes I'll go a little too far and wear something just a little too weird; but the beautiful thing is that the next day, I can start over with a clean new slate. Once on a day I was wearing a black and white striped skirt over a turquoise ballerina skirt, black lacy tights, a big purple bow in my curled hair, with purple suspenders, my friend Samantha compared what I was wearing to Alice in Wonderland and said "I always love what you wear, but I would never be brave enough to wear it myself!"
               I will never forget that comment. I get generic compliments on my outfits all the time, but it's rare to get a comment of this nature. Someone who admires what I do, but isn't brave enough to break the social boundaries into the new and unexplored. This comment could be taken as a bit of an insult, but nonetheless, I was flattered. When I wear something like I did that day, I feel confident, like I can combat anything that may come my way. When I blend in and wear a school t-shirt with jeans, I just feel like I have to be compared with every single other girl who's wearing the exact same thing, and I hate it! I'm much more comfortable when I'm dressing like me. Not quite fitting in all the time. But you know what? That's what I like about it.
               Don't be afraid to be bold. Society's boundaries are holding you back. Take a step forward and do what you want.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Compact The Magic of Books

              Problem: (The Average American's Perspective) Alright! I am so ready for a vacation! Like O-M-G, teachers are so annoying. I do my homework, then instead of rewarding me with a break, they just pile on more homework. Well it's spring break, and it's time to party! First thing's first, I've got to pack. I'll be gone for 7 nights and 8 days...so I'll pack sixteen outfits...just to be safe. Toothbrush, hairbrush, makeup brushes, sunblock, snorkel. What am I forgetting...? Oh! Books for the airplane and lounging on the beach! Hmm...I'll want the new Stephen King *carry on is halfway full*. But what if I get bored of that? I should pack in there a couple of my favorite Harry Potters *carry on is 3/4 of the way full*, but then again, I do want to read something new. Ahh a new Nicolas Sparks book, that'll work *carry on is 5/6 of the way full). Then of course the essential: Twilight (duh!) *stuff, stuff, stuff,* Ugh! It won't fit!!!
               Next Day: At The Airport
               "Carry on has exceeded the weight limit."
               Dangit
               Solution: E-Reading!
               I've ranted and raved about how much I adore reading; now for how I adore reading. My parents forced reading upon me from the first time I started understanding what a book was. As I said in earlier posts, I hated it at first. But at twelve years old with the reading of Twilight came a passion for reading. I wanted to read anything I could get my hands on. When the Kindle was launched as the first e-reading system to debut in 2007, my parents jumped at the chance to invest in the e-reading industry. Soon enough, my whole family was hooked. So I've been a devoted Kindle user for the past several years. And now, I can't even fathom going back to reading actual books.
              There are the obvious reasons why e-reading's so great: books are cheaper, the system's lighter, saves paper, etc. But there are hidden reasons beyond all of the superficial statistics. I think that with the purchase of my Kindle came a whole new kind of motivation to read. It's hard to explain. But a deal breaker for a lot of people with e-reading is that they'll miss the feel of a real book: the pages, and the feeling of accomplishment when closing the book with a hearty slam. However, with the Kindle, each percentage point I gain in a book feels like a mini accomplishment in itself. Then there's the prospect of free books. There are over 1.8 million free books available for download on amazon.com for the Kindle. Among these are old classics, and new books written by independent authors who chose to publish solely on Amazon as an e-book. When I read one of these independent books, I feel like I may be reading the next Harry Potter or Twilight, and I'm one of the first ones reading it.
              I could rant about e-reading for hours upon hours on end. It just so happened to be in my mind today because I gave a speech on the topic in my English class today. My advice to you: if you have the opportunity or desire to get an e-reader: DO IT! You will NOT regret it! I suggest the Kindle, I love it! $149 for the Wi-Fi version, $189 for 3G, there are a million reasons why I recommend it over the Nook, iPad, or Sony Reader, if you have any questions as to why, feel free to ask!

P.S. A shout out to whoever is reading my blog in Singapore, I've noticed that's the one country other than the U.S. that consistently reads my blog about weekly.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Do A Little Dance, Make A Little Love....Well Basically Get Down Tonight

            "Eyes closed" my friend Sarah commands. I obey, and I feel her masterfully dusting eyeshadow over every crevice of my eyelid. "Now look straight", I do as she says, and I feel the mascara wand making my eyelashes thicker, darker, and longer. The eyeliner is applied to come to a winged point at the sides of my face. Sparkles must go everywhere. Makeup done, time for hair. I sit in front of Michelle so she can take my hopelessly straight hair and turn it into a mass of curls. Each fragile strand of pin-like hair transforms into a bouncy brown ringlet. All I need now is my dress. Black, tight, spandex, with a stripe of silver and black rhinestones going down the center. Paired with giant silver hoops. Perfect.
             We pull up to the school, already booming with people, yet they're still filing in by the dozen. Everything is big, flashy, and most importantly: sparkly. This can only mean one thing: it's the annual disco dance. Girls in go-go boots, guys in white bell bottoms. Anything shiny and spandex is acceptable attire. Sounds of the 70's are heard from the gym. As we get closer, the music becomes more intolerable, and the lights dim until all that can be seen is the light from the disco ball and the dancing figures from music videos of a very dark time in our musical past: disco. Plenty of Michael Jackson and Abba to go around. 
             Couples are scattered about the dance floor - most of which either grinding or making out. Groups of single guys looking for a group of single girls to entertain themselves. Friends drifting from group to group, swaying along with the words of "Dancing Queen". Everyone points at one another: "you can dance, YOU can jive, having the time of your life!" High schoolers high on life (and some just plain high), yes, these are the treasured occasions of high school.
             Girls: let's not lie though. The best part of disco, is going back to a friend's house, taking off your shoes - and if you saw my shoes, you'd understand why I screamed "SWEET SALVATION!" - eating pizza and cookies to your heart's content, and recounting the events of the night past.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Beauty, Grace, and Elegance

            The stage is dark. Conversation is buzzing around the auditorium under the dim lights. The lights flash, then go out completely. The back light of the stage shines a bright red and the silhouette of a dancer is seen. The whispers of the crowd are hushed and all is silent. The arms of the dancer are raised and one can see the graceful way she holds her stance: toes pointed, fingers relaxed and set apart from one another.
            The music explodes and the dancer bursts in to action. Her dark silhouette's body is moving in every which way. Jumping at great heights. Spinning....one....two...three...four....five times to land perfectly and go into the next move. The timing between the movements and the music is uncanny, and the emotion packed into the dance is palpable. Other dancers enter and new lights brighten their faces. Each move is so elegant and perfect, they make it look as if it's nothing.
             Dance is one thing I will have endless respect for those who are able to do it and do it well. I wish I had been able to get into it as a child (and actually have been good at it). It's a beautiful art that has a certain emotion to it that can't really be displayed with many other kinds of music or design. You can always tell if a girl is a dancer or not too just in the way she holds herself in everyday life. You can easily spot a dancer from a crowd of girls just on the way she (or he of course!) somehow manages to glide instead of clumsily shifting from one foot to the other.
              If you were wondering, this post is not completely random; I just got back from seeing a performance by my school's dance group. It was all very beautiful and extremely impressive. The coordination, the hours of practice, the blood, sweat, and tears that must go into a show of such talent, I can't even imagine. Each dance gives off such emotion, you can see it in the faces of the performers with every point of their toes and each backbreaking curve of their spines. I could never do what they do, and for that they have my undying respect.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Skin And Bones

          One of the heaviest burden's to bare as a girl....our weight (no pun intended). Being skinny is a common obsession shared by most teenage girls around the world. Having toned thighs, a trim waist. Instead of being a step towards the future, each step is another calorie burned. Instead of food being a blessing, it's a vicious enemy that should be consumed as infrequently as possible. The idea of looking perfect in your new dress makes a girl stick up her nose to cake.
          Today in U.S. history class, we watched a documentary on World War II. We all know the stories of concentration/death camps. The inhumane and vast cruelty forced upon Jews of the time. Millions slaughtered. Gas chambers. Worked to death. Fatal medical testing. We've heard it all before. It's been studied for months in different social studies classes throughout my years as a student. However, I saw something in this documentary that I had never seen before. More of the untold story unfolded before my eyes. Images that stung my eyes with tears.
           Children orphaned and thrown onto the streets at ages as young as four years old. Not only were these children cold, homeless, and living off of what they could collect begging...they were starving. Not in the "I haven't eaten for a week way", more like "I've lived off of crumbs for a year" way. These kids legs looked thinner than my pencil; it made me wonder why they weren't crushed beneath the weight of their bodies. The Germans were so proud of their work that they videotaped it all. Thinking they'd look back on these images and feel that they brought honor upon their country.
           With these images burned into my brain, never will I look at my legs with shame again. Never will I deny a meal because I want to fit into a smaller pair of jeans. When I feel my soft waistline, I will not feel spite towards Victoria Secret models. I will eat my bread with a smile on my face, and with each bite, my thoughts will not be on how many calories I'm putting into my mouth. It will be on how lucky I am to live in a world where I can believe what I wish to and still be provided with such incredible luxuries.
           Next time you feel the need to be skin and bones, think about what skin and bones means in the literal sense of the words. Think about what it meant to the children who died in the Holocaust of starvation. Pick up a piece of bread and with think to yourself that each bite is going towards one of the perished kids that were starved so cruelly. You will never feel guilty for having that extra slice of bread ever again.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Reading Rainbow All The Way Across The Sky!!!

            Average American Worker: "Wow was that a long day at work Why does my boss have to be so demanding and my clients so whiny. Do they realize I have a life too? I see my comfy recliner through the window as I pull up the driveway in my car. The garage door is closed, now where are those keys buried? Ahh there it is, into the lock it goes. Just steps away from sweet salvation. *drops into the recliner* ahhh. Now time to pass the evening with some good old fashioned, mindless, American television!" Wait, wait, wait, back this up! Pick up that remote turn that glowing box off, throw the flipper out the window, put a book into that man's hands, and roll it! "Now to curl up in my comfy seat and pass the evening by losing myself in an entirely different universe created within the pages of a good book." Thank you, that's better.
            How sad America has become. A country in which reading has really become almost obsolete for most teenagers. Apart from school, extra curricular activities, and studying text books, reading for fun is not on the list of top priorities of how to spend that rare free time. An exhausted high school student would rather lay like broccoli in front of a glowing box playing "Jersey Shore" reruns. And while "Jersey Shore" is quite the complex alternative reality and takes some serious mental power to comprehend; I happen to think it would be a much better choice to ignore the TV, flip open a good book, and lose yourself in Robert Landon's rigid excitement in The Da Vinci Code, feel Noah and Allie's pure love in The Notebook (I know the movie's good, but give the book a try!), sink your teeth into a halfway decent vampire book (I know, punny), anything! 
            When any of my friends tell me that they hate reading, I just laugh in their face and say "of course you don't. You love reading, you just haven't found any good books yet, trust me." It takes one good book. Just one to get convert a "Jersey Shore" addict to one who just lives to devour books. For me it was Twilight when I was twelve (as embarrassing as that may be now). After that all I wanted to do was read anything I could get my hands on. My shelves full of picture books from my youth were constantly being replaced with increasingly mature novels, until my parents invested in the e-reading industry and bought my sisters and I Kindles.
             The influential power a book may have over me is far more intense than any half hour sitcom could ever possibly hope to obtain. Heathcliff and Catherine's selfish love. Harry's destiny to save the wizarding community. Even Edward, Bella, and Jacob's supernatural love triangle. None of it can be reproduced through a glass screen. Put down the remote and try the pages that authors poured their heart and soul upon. Trust me, you won't be disappointed.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The Churn of the Mixer Goes Round and Round

            I hastily take out the mixer from its hiding spot under the counter. Ingredients are gathered from all over the kitchen. Plop, in go the sticks of butter. The sugar falls in an elegant swish. I'm feeling calmer already. The concoction is beat together into a decadent looking crystal paste. Crack with the eggs and splash with the vanilla. Time to count the cups of flour. One, two, three, and when the mixer is clicked on a white cloud is thrown out of the bowl. The problems of my day are being beat up along with the cookie dough. All that's left is the chocolate chips, they fall out of the bag with a little plink from each morsel. Half of what's left in the bag? Nah, let's do a little more. Maybe a little more. Ehh just dump the whole bag in there. Who really needs measurements.
            The dough: possibly the best part of the cookie making process, with a tall glass of cold milk (and I even hate milk), can cure just about anything. The dough is formed into little balls, soon to be morphed into misshapen cookies. They go into the oven, I watch as stress from the day melts along with the chocolate chips. The little balls become flat, and then begin to rise into their puffy forms. Then they're done, I clumsily pull them from the oven. Too hot to eat, but who cares? I made them start to finish. I take a breath of relief. I feel better.
            Baking. It can be messy and a pain. It takes time and effort. It's seen as silly when you can just go to the store and pick out any kind of cookie you want without any work put into it. Yet somehow, it's one of the most therapeutic things I can think of. When I'm throwing ingredients together and creating something for others to enjoy, I feel like I'm in control. I'm doing something from scratch that will be appreciated by all around.
            After a day when I feel like I have no real power or control over anything that's going on; that first bite into the cookie that was made according to my standards, my preferences, and my time, nothing can make me feel quite as good.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Guilty Pleasures

            Eww, you like Justin Bieber? Lady Gaga? Taylor Swift? Gross. I like music no one else knows that shows that I have a super creative personality. I'm sorry, but I'm not one of those people. While some of my music is really weird stuff mostly no one has heard of (most of which I get from my sister), and I'm hardly the person to like T-Swift music, and I would love to say that I hate her...I just can't! I think everyone  has that one artist, band, TV show, or movie that they know that they probably shouldn't like, or that they feel embarrassed for enjoying, and Taylor Swift is mine.
           Taylor Swift is one of those artists who's beat down upon a lot for not being a good singer live. Writing all of her songs about passed boyfriends. Being a boring, country-impersonating, pop singer. Well I'm sorry to all of the extremely deep and talented artists out there...but I love Taylor Swift. The two things I love most about her music is 1. she writes it herself (unlike most artists in today's world), and that most of her songs tell absolutely  adorable stories.
            At first I tried to hate her. The first song I heard by her was "You Belong With Me" and I hated it because the music video made out the marching band to be the supreme geeks. But then I couldn't get the song out of my head, and eventually I found myself singing it all the time. Then the song "Love Story" put the question of hating her to rest. Adorable story lines. Very fun to sing along to songs. What girl could really hate her?
            My sister agrees with me on this prospect. She has possibly the most unique sense in music of anyone I know. But among some of her most played songs of all time lies "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga. She'll always say she wishes she didn't love Lady Gaga, but she just does. Lady Gaga is her guilty pleasure artist, and Taylor Swift is mine.
             My message: don't be ashamed of anything you're interested in. Sing out loud the lines you love. Whether it's "Ra ra ah ah ah, ro ma ro ma ma, ga ga ooh la la, want your bad romance", "Baby baby baby ooooh, like baby baby baby ooooh", or even "Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone, I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess, it's a love story baby just say yes." Love what you want and don't worry about whether or not it's cool to love it.

Friday, April 1, 2011

The Sun Goes Down and Inspiration Goes Up

          Ahh spring is here. It's getting lighter earlier and dark later. Daytime is lengthening while night is swiftly shrinking. Soon to come is an endless streak of days filled with an unflinching sun without a cloud in the sky. Most everyone I know is just incapable of waiting for the season change. Me? No WAY! Don't get me wrong, I enjoy warm weather (the cold is beginning to become a bit monotonous). The thought of not being forced to go to seven hours of school each day is also tantalizing. However, the downfall for me is the dwindling hours of nighttime.
         I function best at night. I've felt this way for years now. During the day I feel the pressures of school and the future. I feel like if I'm not doing homework or studying, that I should be working out or at least trying to find something productive to do. But, night is my savior. When the sun goes down, pressures are off and I feel like I can just take a deep breath and relax. However, that's the opposite of what I end up doing. I'm a night owl, I like to stay up late. I'm more productive at night. If I attempt something creative or interesting during the day, it just never seems to work out. With night comes inspiration.
         Really, the fact that I work best at night is quite the curse. I'm one of those people who when they start a project, they must finish it before taking a break and finishing later. So I start projects late at night and I have to finish it before I go to bed...meaning I end up staying up all night. This is why I love the days of winter. The sun goes down at 4:30 P.M. and I have seven hours of inspired time before it starts getting late. A disclaimer: I am not "goth" or "emo" or whatever other label you would like to tack on to me for loving night time. It just so happens to be the time that I feel most comfortable, productive, and inspired.
         Darkness takes over and my mind is cleared. Pressures of daytime are gone. I no longer feel the need to look and act perfect. Night is my time. My time to be creative. Do things that mean something to me. If I'm the only one who feels this way so be it. Summer is just sure to bring long days and short nights. You can decide what that means to you.