This Summer

Oh, boy. Here come the summertime memories.

I remember last summer I posted a blog at the end of August about how it went. It was definitely an unexpected summer, in absolutely stupendous ways. This summer? I have massive butterflies just thinking about it.

I have an idea of what I’ll be doing. But it’s like sitting in a roller coaster and waiting for it to move; people can rave about how much fun it’ll be, but you will be totally and utterly in the dark about the experience awaiting you until it jerks forward (and you’ll really be in the dark if this roller coaster is Space Mountain). And that’s based on the bare fact that everybody experiences things differently. Example: plop my dad in the Bahamas, and he will most certainly have a miserable time, being that he loves America and hates the beach (and Pina Coladas). Plop me there? You better believe I’ll be swimming with dolphins, taking long beach walks, exploring the island top from bottom, scuba diving, and downing a virgin Pina Colada daily.

I am told that I will be taking a trip to Europe, particularly Germany, England, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Switzerland. I know almost all of the activities we will be doing there (it’s part of this study-abroad program thing). But I don’t know what it’ll be like. Fun? Probably. Tiresome? Unfortunately. But out-of-this-world, spectacular, incredible, never-wanna-leave? Who KNOWS?

The best part is no parents. Yup, Dad can stay in Bahamas. Sure, there’s chaperones, and a gaggle of other kids, but no relatives. I have made a few friends, though, out of the bunch. And I better learn to love them if I’ll be stuck with them for 3 weeks without going back.

I sorta went off on a tangent, but the point is: summer is encroaching on us like a mighty huntress about to spring for her prey. Yay!

May we all have summers that rock.

What would you do?

Do you know those crazy ideas that you get? The ones that you would do in a heartbeat? And then you never do them?

I wonder why we never do them.

I think it’s because we hold ourselves back. For example, maybe you see a hitchhiker on the side of the road, and you think “I would totally walk across the state if I could.” Then you start thinking about pumpkin pie and charm bracelets and whatever else satisfies your mind, and you probably never return to your hitchhiking thought. And it’s because you said those three little words: if I could.

Why can’t you?

Sure, kids my age have high school, college, and social circles to worry about. Adults have jobs, families, and mortgages to worry about. But why would you put such a definite label on your wildest dreams? We have time. Years, days, hours lie ahead of us. If you can’t hitchhike across a state now, hitchhike when you’re 60 and you’ve got nothing else to do. But don’t assume that you can’t do anything. That’s just you getting in your own way.

My wildest dreams are to visit another country by myself for a few months; dye my hair lavender; and get an English bulldog and live with her in a yellow country house. All of these are pictures in my head that just satisfy some piece of me.

So if you could do anything, and you can, what would you do?

Being A Human

A few days ago, my good friend whom I’ve known for a solid 4 years startled me by explaining her definition of human life.

She started off by saying that, scientifically, it is absolutely true that we could have been any mixture of genes inherited from our families. For example, if your mom has blue eyes and your dad brown, and if you end up with blue, that was just one option. You could’ve had brown, dark blue, one blue and one brown, or even green from some distant relative. She continued to say that yes, this was “special”, but it was just chance, probability, and dominance.

Then she got into our actual lives: she said that every reflection we have is just a chemical reaction in our brains, and everything we learn is just our brains making connections. It’s all our brain. Brain, brain, brain. “That’s why I have trouble understanding when people say ‘just be yourself’”, she explained, “because I have no idea who that is.”

What she’s trying to get at is that she doesn’t know who she is, because she believes all she is is brain. She told me she doesn’t believe in souls, that someone made them up. She is also firmly atheist and very un-spiritual.

This girl has always been a very serious person. Sure, she has a laugh, and we have fun kidding around sometimes, but when you spoon out all of that foam, she’s as deep as a crevice. So it’s not like I didn’t expect her to have such a moving and rousing thing to say, especially knowing her lack of religion.

But I strongly disagree with everything she said.

I am a Roman Catholic, as I have told you in my post about Lent. I’m not by any means devout, but I follow and agree with most aspects of my faith. I believe that I have a soul. I believe that this world that I experience every day was not made entirely by man. But I didn’t get my beliefs from the colorful pages of Children’s Bible Stories; I postulate what I postulate based on my logic and my thinking. I know that we couldn’t have built our Earth empire from the skin on our hands and the bones in our bodies, even if we did have thousands of years, because we couldn’t have put the grass under our shoes. MiracleGro didn’t exist in B.C. times. And we couldn’t have made chickens out of dust or cows out of mud. Because it’s not possible. We couldn’t have done this alone.

I believe I have a soul because of numerous sensations that people in literature have dubbed over time as things like butterflies in the stomach or gut feelings. My brain takes care of most everything in my body, I’ll admit to that. But it doesn’t tell my heart what to feel. Have you ever just felt raw emotion? Not any words or pictures running on the conveyor belt in your head, but just powerful emotion that washes over you. I think I have. And I know immediately that I have a soul, because if I didn’t, it would make no sense to experience emotion without experiencing thoughts with it. At least, that’s how I think about it.

Finally, isn’t it a bit dull and two-dimensional to envision life as it is? That everything is cut and dry, that every science textbook is right? That when you experience love or great pain, you don’t feel it, only your brain does? Because it’s going through another damn chemical reaction? Life is full, blossoming, three-dimensional, and spiritual. Not everything needs explanations. Not everything can be laid out neatly for you in a science textbook. Life would have no meaning if we only consisted of chemical reactions.

Sorry if this post rubbed you the wrong way, or made you angry, or anything of the sort. But I wanted to express my views, and I invite you to share yours.

May we all remain human.

“You’re a wizard, Harry”…but so am I

I BET you think this is going to discuss my love for Harry Potter books, what with their lovely British dialogues, mysterious Hogwarts tunnels and darling red-haired Keepers. But no.

In fact, I only used the wizard thing in the title because I wanted to discuss something magical (ha).

I have just begun my creative writing class, and that class, that teacher, my seat…everything is just so perfect when I walk in there. My teacher is one of those people who you want to impress, who savors language like it’s rare cuisine, who reads poems aloud so beautifully you want to weep, who wears adorable button-up sweaters with flowery skirts, who wants you to find yourself, who isn’t afraid of being deep and complex and honest, The classroom is on the second floor, with airy windows and usually no lights. I sit in the absolute back, not even at a desk, but at a forgotten group table, with my friend, right in front of the airiest window. I have a perfect view of the board and my teacher, and the breeze from the window doesn’t hurt either.

The point IS that my teacher spins magic from her fingers, tells of other people’s magic, and encourages us to create the most magnificent magic we can muster…this “magic” being pieces of writing. Today, we did this incredible warm-up activity.

You’re supposed to ask yourself very odd questions about you particularly, like “what shape am I?” or “what mineral am I?” or “what color in the sunset am I?” It sounds batty, but you write down all these random answers/words/phrases, all stemming from the base of “I AM…”, and suddenly you’ve got yourself a poem. I embraced this assignment, and found myself scribbling down pretty hokey stuff, but loving it. You’ll find that you can go on for pages.

And writing that nonsense, well, I felt like I knew myself better than I have ever known myself before.

My New Favorite Things

I have a short but very sturdy list of things that I really, honestly can’t get enough of.

Some you may label as pathetic, others bland, still others boring. But I really like everything on this list, and if you don’t, so be it (it’s probably obvious at this point that I’m referring to the debates currently flying about the musical group ranked at number 1).

1. One Direction (seen below in the collagey-thing I did at the end of this post) includes five British/Irish 18-to-20-year-old male members. This description alone sells me on them, and when I see their faces, it’s hard NOT to be a fan. Then I heard their songs, and let me tell you, these guys are not just gorgeous faces and perfect bodies. They have honest talent. A lot of their songs need a bit of lyrical work, but after seeing a lot of their live-preformance YouTube vids (A LOT — one of my best friends is a hardcore fan), they are on-pitch and fantastic live! Plus, we watched some of their videos entitled “Funny Moments”, which includes snippets of cute conversations or funny stunts the guys did caught on film, and they really are incredible. My new goal is to marry one or all of them by 2020 (preferably Harry, the one in the middle who looks a bit…frazzled). 
2. I have been known to snack constantly (earning me the nickname Baby Snackasaurus by mi madre), but these things are the bomb diggity. They are flaky and nutty and puffy and delicious! I ate five in one sitting once, which is not the best thing for your digestive system, but my tastebuds were pleased, at least. You can find them in pretty much any grocery store with a bakery. The picture in this post is just one example of a walnut pastry, but if you opt for a roll or a cake or a puff, you will be pleased. You will.
3. I have been so into the Easter spirit this year, and so this my new favorite holiday is…Easter! I actually got my parents presents, too. Jellybeans for the pop, caramels for the mum. Plus, who can go wrong with a day that serves ham, stuffing, lemon-meringue pie, and whatever you can stuff your face with from your basket? NOTHING can possibly be bad about that.
4. I have been on this kick where I feel like nothing can pull me down from cloud 9. I feel so happy…all the time! Either this is some twisted kind of PMS or I’m finally beginning to love myself. I went to the park with a friend for three hours a few days back, and we lounged around in the sun, dipped our toes in a tiny stream, and hiked through the wilderness. It was relaxing, and usually I’d find something wrong with it (i.e., the bugs were awful, I got poison ivy, etc.), but this time, I didn’t. Sure, I got sunburnt along my nose, but the next day I looked in the mirror and thought, “Well, I think it looks fine.” And it did — goodness knows I needed some sort of color after being an unhealthy pasty white all winter. And just today, I went out to eat with my grandmother, and I didn’t look around the restaraunt, wondering if someone I knew would enter and see me with Grandmom, like I ususally do. I enjoyed myself. And, even though I sorta feel like it won’t last, this whole feel-good thing, I really want it to. Who doesn’t want to smile every morning?
   

   #1: One Direction

   

   #2: Walnut Pastries

   

   #3: Easter

   

   #4: Happiness

 

School Subjects

The subjects our mentors teach us in school are varied, yes, but mostly useless.

I’m just being frank.

I wish, really wish, that I could savor every moment of receiving an education. Various children worldwide would kill for a spot in the classroom, an opportunity to raise a hand. They would love nothing more than to listen while things were presented on chalkboards and dissected meticulously. It would be their version of paradise.

I am generally pretty loving of school. It keeps me busy, it does a decent job of entertaining me, and half of the subjects I honestly like. But it’s the other half that cause my eye to tick.

Let’s start with chemistry.

I was planning on taking chem this year and bio next year, because I thought bio would lull me to sleep (in what world are plants amusing?). But I decided to double up, because it was recommended over the temporary skipping of biology. And I LOVED bio. So much so that I am taking an AP class next year of it. College-level biology for an hour and a half every single day? Count me in.

As for chemistry, well, let’s just say I’m glad I took it. Because now I do not have to suffer through it next year.

It’s so BORING. God-awfully boring. We have done a total of three experiments in two and a half months (woop-de-freakin’-do). Half of what we learn is so utterly inapplicable to life that I have to force myself to not protest every word spoken. It’s all math-based, too, which is the cherry on top of the hatred sundae. If there’s anything I disliked this year more than chem, it’d be precalc. So, in conclusion, take chemistry as quickly as possible, and try not to throw yourself upon the Bunsen burner in angst every fifteen minutes.

My ideal schedule would be:

• AP Biology, specifically the Embryology unit
• Gym class [Let the record show that I previously hated gym, but it has put me in better shape and I enjoy it way more than I did in Middle School].
• French, complete with fresh note-taking and accent-practicing
• Modern World History, particularly a World War to keep it interesting
• Drawing and Painting [Let the record show I am starting this class on Monday, and I will be sure to report as soon as humanly possible. For now, let's assume I love it].

Question: Would you change anything about your high school schedule, even if high school for you was ages ago?

You Are Most Certainly You.

You Are Most Certainly You.

That’s what the title reads, anyways. It’s not like our personalities haven’t been molded by society.

But let’s just pretend that they really haven’t been.

That comment you were dying to say at lunch yesterday? It was all over the table — along with the chocolate milk your friend spit out at the rashness of it all. The smile you made yourself contain after you thought about a happy memory? You flashed it, all right, and it gleamed all the way through science class.

But our friends, peers, even people we hate have taken our clay-like personalities and pushed them, pulled them, and the like. Be honest. When someone complains about a hard assignment, do you say “yeah” (the ultimate neutral word), or do you say what you mean,which happens to be: “What the heck are you talking about? It was a complete-the-sentence with a word bank, you idiot. You can’t get any simpler.”

Of course you don’t.

I’ve been trying to be more truthful, but I am a praise-giver by nature. I just dish that stuff out even when something extremely un-note-worthy pops up. For example, if my dad buys the cookies I love but haven’t had recently, I simply ooze at him, “You’re the best! Wow, Duplex, my favorite! Wow, thanks, Dad! Yummy!”

(Let the record show that Duplex are, indeed, my favorite cookies).

The point is, it’s hard to resist the pushing and pulling of our lumpy spirits. There’s no kind way to fight it, really, because being completely honest flies in the face of manners. And if we spoke our minds about everything, we might not be left with many friends.

But think about the positive side of revealing our hidden feelings: sincere compliments would be shared, pure advice given. We wouldn’t hold back if our chemistry partner had the cutestshoesyoueversawinyourentirelifeohmygosh. We would be straight with our friend if she presented us with a perilous situation. And though it takes a bit of bravery to conjure the true feelings to the surface, it should be worthwhile. I mean, what’s the point of emotion if we try to hide it so much?

So show the entire planet that you are, in fact, most certainly and utterly you. Maybe the response will be positive.

May we all take leaps of faith.

A Note on Lists

He he he…you liked that little pun in the title?

I really quite enjoy making lists. So much so, in fact, that if I make one, I become a bit ill with Mother-Bear-itis and must know its whereabouts at all times, how many things I’ve crossed out, what could be added, etc.

But then there’s that lackadaisical list that is just there, unconsciously recruiting members in your mind. Didn’t you ever become aware of muttering to yourself, “this makes me smile” or “man, I gotta remember to do this again” or even “why don’t I enjoy this more often”? I call it the HAPPY list. No, not the happy list, the HAPPY list. Whenever something unusually good happens to me, I feel great, and I make a mental note to myself to remember to do it again. But I never remember, and alas, that is the HAPPY list’s downfall: it’s forgettable.

Here is a sampling of my HAPPY list, but it’s all I could come up with right now, since I forget what was mentally inscribed on it before.

• wading in water with normal, everyday clothes on
• picking vegetables
• visiting the beach when it’s cold and cloudy
• creating adventures in the woods
• cooking something truly spectacular
• the feeling you get after running long and hard
• sitting under cherry blossom trees
• the sound of wind against windpipes
• walking barefoot in the middle of the street

May we all take leaps of faith.

Helping

I volunteer at my local homeless shelter and food pantry, and I was struck with a blinding realization whilst setting out a bag of second-hand clothing for the folks gathering around the pantry door.

Whenever I surrender my time to working at the shelter, I dread going but leave feeling satisfied. Not the shallow sort of satisfied that you get when finishing homework or completing a required task — the kind that fills you with bubbly warmth from doing something that benefits someone else without being ordered to do it. Then I wondered, why did I dread going if I left feeling so pure? The answer was simple enough. I dreaded going because it felt like a set of chores, doing things like taking out garbage, cleaning windows, re-stocking the pantry with canned tomatoes…but at the end of my hour, I remembered that someone out there would be thanking me. It just took me another hour of work to realize that again.

Then I started thinking about the kinds of people who have to complete their service hours. Whether it’s for some sort of religious purpose, a school club, or as a punishment, these types of people arrive sometimes at the shelter, awaiting instructions, but more eagerly awaiting their ride home in an hour. They are often assigned to work with me, since I know the ropes. Conversations begin with “what’s your name” and transform into “why are you here”. My answer is usually a form of “just because”, and this answer is hard for them to wrap their heads around. “Just because”? What does that mean? Who would do this voluntarily?

I would. It’s not about the points you can gain or the bragging rights. It’s about the human spirit, quite honestly. People helping people — it used to be unquestionable. An old man drops his package, you pick it up. A woman holding groceries can’t get the door, you get it for her. More and more I have to be the one picking up the package and holding the door. My peers just stand around and look, unless there’s a reward. Since when is getting a prize for helping someone better than getting gratitude? I feel so happy when the old man smiles his gummy smile at me, or when the woman says thanks from the bottom of her heart. Isn’t that tangible enough?

So don’t be that person who stands around and looks, or who questions the Just Because. People helping people: join the revolution!

I want you to document helping another person without any intention of receiving a gift at the end. See how it makes you feel, and blog about it. If you don’t have a blog, comment here about it. Tell someone. Pass the message along. It’s not about making a difference, it’s about being the difference. Let’s make the helping reflex second-nature again.

May we all take leaps of faith.

FAQ’s

Everyone has a small collection of FAQ’s.

Being a high-schooler, some of mine are quite unimportant (i.e., I believe one down there is “what do you do to your hair”). But it’s semi-amusing to see how some people are asked questions that have never come close to approaching me before. If you think about it, sometimes you’re asked questions several times a day, but you might never notice. So, I am going to use my brain to dig for all the most popular FAQ’s and answer them. Then, if you wish, post an unusual FAQ that you get asked. By the way, FAQ is Frequently Asked Questions, just in case you live under a rock and/or you’ve always been told it means Farts And Quacks.

Okay.

1. Do you like chemistry?

Oh, what a dreaded question. I’ve been asked this at least fifteen times in the past two weeks. And the answer right now is NO. Chemistry is so much worse than Biology, which I took the first semester of this year. Please, all you students out there: put off Chem AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. Only look the beast in the eye when you have no other option.

2. How do you get your hair like that?

This comes about relatively frequently, even though I have no idea why. My hair is brown, and that is probably the best adjective to suit it. Sometimes, though, I get it curly, and this is when the question likes to arise most. To get your hair is nice wavy spirals overnight without using heat, twist it into two ballerina buns when it’s half-wet and sleep on it. I also get asked this question when my hair is straight. To do this, I blow dry my hair straight at night, sleep in a wrap-up, and straighten any kinks in the morning. Now stop asking.

3. What’d you get on the [insert subject] test?

This question is my frenemy, because when I do well I want to blab it everywhere, and when I don’t I’d rather bite off one of my fingers than share (honestly). The very last test I took, I did well on. The one before that…eh.

4. Do you like being an only child?

I change my answer to that depending on my mood. If I say yes, then I have to deal with the ever-popular follow-up: “Do you get, like, everything you want?” If I say no, then it’s: “Why NAWT? I’d seriously, like, love to be an only.” The answer is that it has its ups and downs. Though I get more quality time with my parents, I find that I have to open myself up to more people to have something to fall back on when my parents don’t get it. In other words, friends have to replace siblings. And, in response to the first follow-up, I absolutely do not get everything I want.

5. What do you want to do when you get older?

I have one definite plan: to become a speech therapist. Quirky, eh? But it pretty much fits all my requirements: steady pay, guaranteed to find a job, ability to help people change their lives, ability to work with the old and young, ability to wear cute pencil skirts and blazers to work…I’m relatively pleased. But, and don’t call me crazy, my French teacher planted in my mind this idea about minoring in a language. I absolutely adore French. I’m crazy for it, even if there are fifteen million rules and the word for bracelet is masculine (so stupid). And even though I’m not at the absolute tippy-top of my class, I’m up there; even though my accent needs definite refining, I could go around saying j’adore les ananas all day. If I find that passion for it still in me by the time I graduate high school, I’d minor in French for sure.

Now tell me your FAQ’s!