I’m happy…

Today was perfect in a million small ways. I mean, there so much that could have gone better. I wish I’d been more proactive about housework and homework. It was absolutely soaking wet outside. I went to a dance, and wish that I’d have done something I didn’t have the courage to do.

But in another way, I wouldn’t change a thing. Driving to a soccer game in a warm car with rain all around and the sound of jazz enveloping everything and coating it with significance… getting ready for the dance with a group of friends (some new, some old)…actually wearing make-up and painting my nails…having far too much coffee and far too little food…dancing like a maniac, even though I can’t really dance…having my stomach do those stupid flips that prove I’m actually a human with feelings and emotions…driving home and experiencing that sense of camaraderie that makes you feel young and alive in a way few things do…

I think I’m beginning to understand that I’m a senior. I feel so utterly alive, in part because of the coffee and the late hour. But another reason is that I feel awake for the first time in a while. I feel like I’m living my life, not just watching it pass by. And I relish it.

That’s all I’ve got tonight, guys.

 

What Even Is This?

“When you experience uncertainty, you are on the right path – so don’t give it up. You don’t need to have a complete and rigid idea of what you’ll be doing next week or next year, because if you have a very clear idea of what’s going to happen and you get rigidly attached to it, then you shut out the whole range of possibilities.”

- Deepak Chopra

  My world is shifting in so many ways. This isn’t a complaint, just a statement of fact. I’m a senior in high school AND in my second year of college.  Dynamics with old friends are completely different. There are new friends I never saw coming. And I doubt freshman me with her Jane Austen, braids, and mousy demeanor would even recognize senior me with her brazen attitude, pixie cut, and Walt Whitman.

I’m working through the agonizing process of deciding where to transfer. There’s one school in particular that interests me…and it’s on the other side of the country. Part of me feels like that’s a good thing. I feel ready to severe my old ties and start new ones, to find myself, to go in pursuit of my Great Perhaps. But quite recently, there have been some changes that have made me consider whether leaving is such a good idea. There’s an opportunity to share a house with friends, a good scholarship from a local school, and yes, there is a boy.

I’m at the point where movies like Lost in Translation and Reality Bites seem surprisingly relevant and watching the prom and graduation episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer make me cry. There are moments when I surprise myself with my maturity and others where I behave like a child. I think this is what they call growing up.

Hope you’ve had a great summer and good luck to those of you headed back to school (or already in classes!).

A Challenge from Hayley

Hayley G. Hoover, one of my favorite YouTubers, posted a poetry writing prompt on her blog:

“In your poem, include at least fourteen of the following items: a statistic, a dish eaten cold, three forms of heat, a smell you can’t forget, a line from a movie, something out of a textbook, two things you wish you had said, a reference to an aunt or uncle, some kind of moving vehicle, two words beginning with R and ending with “-ion”, a stage direction, two distinct hours of the day, an historical figure, an adhesive, an animal only seen up close in the zoo, a slang expression (“call it quits,” for example), something really bad that you did, something that undermines or negates everything else you’ve said.”

I managed to fit all the items in. Here’s my poem

“Here’s looking at you, kid” he said

Toasting success to the best- the two of us.

And I didn’t respond, despondent silence

Louder than any shout, I hesitated.

I should have spoken, said something

Bring my congratulations to the surface

instead of mirthless fear but I didn’t.

I should’ve said “To us!” “Mazel tov!”

“I love you,” true every one. I said nothing.

 

Pungent, like fish weeks past their prime,

he stared at me, the world a train moving

Removing any distance between us

As I ate an 8 o’clock spaghetti at midnight,

Cold in a way no microwave or stove could restore,

Fiery glances passed between us, like a gust

Of death, come to cheer up the evening

that had begun so well, now gone bananas.

 

FDR said fear fears itself. I disagree

Revelation of reintegration between words and mouth

brought out this response: “Let us digress

to a non-relative discussion, percussion

Reverberation of static and non-static existence.”

I feared myself, my heart

No uncle, cousin, sister brother, father,

mother- dearer was he and I said

Nothing. And I was 72% sure I loved you.

 

End scene, drop the curtain down

Drown out the sorrowful glance of rhino

Behind glass at the zoo, so close

I could reach out and touch it, if it were real.

Reality gone haywire, clinging like duct tape,

Absorbing everything. I take it back,

it’s better I stay silent, reliant quiet

in face of the tangles of the unrealities

Unraveling in my head. Better to say nothing.

 

 

Hope you enjoyed! Any comments, questions, or critics are appreciated.

Care to Dance?

This is exactly what I expect Saturday to be like....

Hello! I had classes until almost 6 and then youth group after that. Life is crazy busy sometimes, guys.

So apparently I’m going to a dance on Saturday. This will be interesting. As you may know, I’m in high school but I go to college. I’ve never really had a traditional high school experience, complete with dances, school events, and um…other kids.

However, not all my friends are as nontraditional. I mean, sure, most of them go to the local art school, but that’s still much more traditional than my education.

Anyways, one of my friends found himself without a date and asked me if I’d be his fallback. And I said yes. I’m just nice, I guess.

It’s “Spring Fling” with a beach theme. From what I can figure, spring fling is semi-formal, not super-dressed-up formal. Which is nice. But I’m still a bit befuddled about finding something to wear. One of my friends has offered me the use of a sundress that sounds perfect. So that’s good and stuff…

Ahhhhhh, I’ve never been to a dance. I mean, I’ve been asked but things have always kept me from going. I don’t even dance particularly well!!! The good news is, I have a lot of friends at this school so that should be fun. The bad news is, 2 of my 3 nemeses also attend this school (my other nemesis works at a theater and has a very distinctive voice…it’s complicated.) Betcha didn’t know I had not one but 3 nemeses, did you? :O

Have you ever been to a dance? Was it a good experience? Bad experience? Do you have any advice? Let me know in the comments!

I have to go read “The Hobbit” now (for school!!!! Yay!!!!), so I’ll ttyl.

 

In which I have a random adventure

My friends and I are kind of nuts!

I seriously can’t say how much my friends mean to me. They’re insane and wacky and I’m sometimes afraid for my safety when I’m with them. However, we have so much fun! They’ve always got my back and know how to make me smile even on the gloomiest days.

They were also the first people to ever read this blog (besides my mom. Love you, Mom!!!).

If you’re reading this, I love you guys! Thank you for being the personification of awesome in my life.

Oh by the way…

I forgot to mention it, but I’m totally doing BEDA. I’m a loser with no life and no friends so I may as well devote my time to the internet Just kidding! (or am I….?)

For the uninitiated, BEDA is Blog Everyday in April. This will be the third year I’ve done it. I love BEDA for the same reason I love NaNoWriMo or Drawtober or any other monthly challenge. It gives me a tangible goal for my creativity. I try to mix it up and post things from poetry to lists to explanations on why I like Highlander: The Quickening even though it was a horrendous mess of blah-ness. If  you have a topic you would like me to blog about, feel free to share it.

That is all! See ya tomorrow

A Monotonous Old School Post

Image by Mediocre2010 via Flickr

(Psh, old school. I’ve  had a blog f0r just over a year!)

Hi!

Do you ever wake-up and find that your brain is already running at a million miles an hour? Because that’s how I feel. My thoughts are moving so fast that’s pretty difficult to keep up with my own school of thought.

Today, I want to talk to you about the idea of creativity. I do a lot of “creative” things

• Blog
• Vlog
• Write
• Draw
• Paint
• Create random lists of ways in which I’m creative

But that’s not what I mean. Those are outlets, not creativity itself.  Creativity is that flow of ideas, that little voice saying “I wonder…”.

Creativity is any expression of self. It doesn’t have to be this great big epiphany. It could be a doodle on a napkin or a little tune you make up as you’re grocery shopping.

Let me know how you’d define creativity and some of the ways you’re creative. This topic fascinates  me.

 

I’m sick

Not mentally. I’m actually physically sick. My eyes are watery, my nose is runny, and my outlook on life is negative. That’s how I know. I turn into a pessimist when I’m sick.  I also crave the Beatles. And Audrey Hepburn. So I’m a pessimistic, Beatle- enthused, Audrey Hepburn watching girl with bleary, teary eyes and a nose that would give Rudolph a run for his money when it comes to redness.

Lately, I’ve had another interest related to being sick: watching all my favorite movies…in Spanish. I do actually know Spanish, or at least an elementary amount. I studied it for one year in middle school and two in high school. But the whole idea of watching films in Spanish never occurred to me until my mother brought me the Spanish version of Lilo and Stitch . Now I love it! My favorites are Toy Story 3, The Princess Bride, and The Phantom of the Opera.

It strikes me as funny to watch a movie I know and love in another language. It’s not that Spanish is a particularly funny language. At least, I didn’t find it funny when I was studying past participles.  But hearing Gandalf speaking with an unfamiliar accent or watching Wesley’s mouth move out of sync with his dialogue somehow seems like first-rate comedy to my cold med affected mind.

I’m not alone in my strangeness. Everyone in my family has their own little quirky thing they do when they’re sick. My mother watches Civil War flicks ranging from Gettysburg to Gone With the Wind (she was born in Georgia, which might explain it…). My youngest sister needs cuddle time, soup, and about 25 stuffed animals. My middle sister watches Hallmark movies while eating Top Ramen. My daddy takes long naps in his comfy chair and puts warm rice bags over his eyes.

I have no idea where this comes from. Do you have any odd habits when you’re sick?

Got to run! I hate everyone, “Hey Jude” is playing on my Pandora account, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s is in my DVD player set to Spanish audio.

Technology Hates Me

Hello! Have you missed me? I’ve missed you.

So here’s the story. I’m away from home for a while and so I have no internet. “But that’s fine,” rational me says, “because I’ll have a computer just as soon as I get home.”  Yeah.

 As it turns out, my lovely laptop (or Lulu, as I call her) has picked up a bug in my absence. So now, I’m without a computer. “Don’t panic,” says my rational self, “you can use the computers at the library.”

 My last post was written at the library. I discovered that library computers only provide 15 minutes of use to users. Believe me when I tell you that writing a post in 15 minutes is harder than it sounds. You have to throw grammar and spelling to the wind in order to have enough time to even partially develop a topic.  Plus, you have to add in time for logging in and out.

 I was telling my sister about this today, and she turns to me. “You’re an idiot, you know,” she says matter of factly, “a smart idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. “Well, I have a netbook. You can borrow it if you really need it so badly.”

And that is the story of why I have been MIA.

What’s Up with Poetry?

Poetry isn't about dead, boring old men jabbering in a foreign language.

So, I write poetry. Poetry has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Because of this, it is strange to me when I hear people saying they dislike poetry. Dictionary.com (oh how I love thee) defines poetry as: “the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts.”

How could anyone dislike that?  I mean, I understand disliking a particular poem, poet, or type of poetry, but I do not understand how anyone can dislike the genre as a whole.  It’s like saying that you hate art or that you hate music. It doesn’t make sense.

I think that the reason people feel like they hate poetry is because they associate it with classrooms, syllables, rhyme patterns, and analysis. It’s something you have to “get” in order to pass a test.  But if that’s all you see, that isn’t poetry at all.

Poetry is “the measured language of emotion.” It’s a way of taking what you feel and turning it into something that others can understand. It’s about using language as a sieve through which you filter the messy existence of yourself and see what you find.

In the words of poet Babette Deutsch, “Poetry is important. No less than science, it seeks a hold upon reality, and the closeness of its approach is the test of its success.”  But I think Elizabeth Dew describes it best.

“We read poetry because the poets, like ourselves, have been haunted by the inescapable tyranny of time and death; have suffered the pain of loss, and the more wearing, continuous pain of frustration and failure; and have had moods of unlooked-for release and peace. They have known and watched in themselves and others.”

I don’t know if that makes sense, but I hope that you “get” poetry a little better.