cry, laugh, smile, scream.

The day before I started high school, I was a total wreck.

I was totally convinced that the seniors were all going to hate me and shove me into lockers, I was going to get lost in the vast, complicated and total nonsensically numbered network of hallways, I'd fail all my classes, never see my friends, fall down the stairs, contract mono from the water fountains and be force-fed illegal adult beverages the moment a teacher wasn't looking.

Sadly, due to my horrible habit of paranoia, that's only a slight exaggeration.

My actual first day of high school went something like this: I woke up too early, adjusted my outfit aproximately seven hundred times, refused breakfast due to the knot of nerves in my stomach, got dropped off at my friend's house by my chuckling, lord-its-just-high-school-calm-down-would-you father, and walked to school.

Shockingly enough, no upperclassmen threatened my life, I didn't fall, contract diseases or sample any suspiscious liquids and only got lost once.

Since then, my high school experience has improved drastically. I can navigate the still-nonsensically numbered hallways and walk up four flights in less than three minutes. I know the lunch schedule by heart and made Honor Roll for the first quarter. It is nowhere near as scary or dangerous as all the movies make it out to be. It's just school. It's just kids.

Arguably the most important aspect of high school, however, is social interaction. It is not exactly overblown by the media--more like those movies don't actually capture what teenage life is like, because the directors and writers and producers have all grown up and forgotten.

The adult population at large has forgotten what it was like to be in high school, forgotten that doing absolutely nothing can be crazy fun, that sleep deprivation is simply a fact of life, that sweatpants are gifts from God, that teenagers practically own Dunkin' Donuts, that friends are just as necessary to existence as air, that it's terrifying to talk to the person you like, that school can be stressful enough to make you cry, that teenagers live to eat and are nearly always hungry, that snow can be the cause of a school-wide celebration.

The movies have all forgotten all this, and focus on the negative traits of high school, drawing them out to get laughs. I'm not denying it--we're clique-y, whiny, profane, selfish, sarcastic and cutthroat.

But then again, aren't adults clique-y, whiny, profane, selfish, sarcastic and cutthroat too?

Adults also say we're overemotional...frankly, I take it as a compliment. I'd rather feel deeply and passionately then brush everything off casually with a shrug. We're humans. We have emotions. Might as well put those emotions to use.

High school will make you smile, cry, laugh and scream. And sometimes it'll make you do all four at once. I guess that's why some say it's the "glory days" and some say it's the four worst years we must endure in our lifetime. Whichever it is for me, I'm hoping my years at high school will challenge me to be a better person, because c'mon, we all need some characterisc improvement.

i guess that's life (day 1)

“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened”

I’ve recently started reading two more blogs, which are both excellently written and seven times more serious than mine. So to vary things up a little, I borrowed this picture

from  J'adore L'amour and I’m going to blog about all 30 of the topics on the list. Just not all in one month, because they’re pretty deep questions/subjects and I can’t do serious for a solid month. I’m not even sure I can do serious for three hours.

Moving on…

Today, the list of life dictates me to write about my current relationship slash what being single is like. Anybody who knows me personally knows very well what happened with my last relationship, and I’m not going to post all the details here, because this is the internet, people, and you could be a stalker. To make a long and slightly bitter story short, I dated a guy for about six months, and for almost all of those six months he was a great boyfriend. He never let me pay for anything, even when I acted annoyed. He made doing absolutely nothing fun. He made me laugh, made me feel pretty, made me happy.

And then he broke up with me two weeks after my birthday, one week before our six month, because of a girl he’s seen in person three times, who lives half an hour away. Now he and I don’t talk.

But I guess that’s life. I guess that’s love. I was slash am upset with how it ended, but I’m grateful and glad it happened. It was worth it.

So for now, yeah, I’m single. But hey, I was single for fourteen years before him, I think I can deal with it a while longer. Guys, however much we love them, certainly do complicate things, and I’m not exactly looking for complications right now. I’m just looking to have a good time with my friends and survive the rest of the term. Oh, and wishing for it to snow J

my daily internet travels

Despite the fact my computer is older than am I and is both pitifully and painfully slow, I have my daily internet routine whenever I get the chance to explore the vast land of the word wide web, which, between homework, school, dance, chores and sleep, isn’t as often as I’d like.

Anyhow. Here are the enjoyable little sites I frequent:

Facebook. For obvious reasons.

Amirite.com is what I went to after MLIA became annoying and overloaded with fake, immature okay-seriously-you-need-to-stop-now posts. Basically, it’s a site stuffed with clever little thoughts, strong opinions and wittily worded puns…you vote on whether or not you think the person is “rite.”

I usually meander on over to Youtube watch some =3 because Ray William Johnson’s a tad bit hilarious in that yeah-i-did-just-say-something-offensive-but-don’t-deny-it-was-funny kind of way. We all bash people on the internet—but somehow it’s more entertaining to see some guy with a comic book background and spikey hair tease these unfortunate internet sensations.

Then I lurk on over to a brilliant little blog called The Path Before Forever, written by a senior at my school who I’ve never actually talked to (ope…). The pictures she posts are gorgeous and she has wonderfully thought-provoking entries.

And then I spend at least half an hour on the Spartz Network, created by two college students named Gaby and Emerson (I think they’re engaged?). The byline for their first site, Givesmehope.com, used to be “Like FML, but for Omtimists!” and I suppose that is the best description. It is all user-submitted stories about random acts of kindness, or touching sacrifices people make for one another. It really does give you hope that maybe the world isn’t such a bad place after all J

Next up in the Spartz Network lineup in my personal favorite, Lovegivesmehope.com, similar in the fact of having uplifting contents, unique in the respect that all of them are about love, the sweet kind of things we all wish our boyfriend/significant other did or said or thought. It makes you believe in those gushy Valentine’s Day sentiments about soul mates and true love. Just a warning, don’t visit it for a while after a breakup; it won’t be a pleasant experience.

Then there’s Omg-facts.com, which is actually quite useless but highly interesting and great preparation for the improbable situation of winding up on Cash Cab. For example, I bet you didn’t know that George Washington was not technically the first person in America with the title of “President.”

There’s also Sixbillionsecrets.com, which I admit I don’t go on every day, because it is much darker than the other Spartz sites. The point of the website is to share user-admitted, anonymous secrets, which usually deal with terrible stories of rape, depression, self harm and death. To be honest, I’m not even sure why I read it as often as I do—maybe to remind myself that no matter how often or how much I complain that my life sucks, I have it pretty good.

And after I’m all done with the Spartz Network, I go on Pandora and jam out to music personally selected for me (sounds snobby, doesn’t it? But that’s just what Pandora does, and it’s kind of awesome)…usually, no one has ever heard of my bands or my music—people scroll through my iPod and find maybe two songs they know, then give me a strange look and hand it back, creating an awkward moment of wow-you’re-so-cool-with-all-your-semi-obscure-music. I don’t mind, though, because nobody ever wants to listen to my iPod, meaning I don’t usually have to share.

I do feel like I visit more websites than this, but they must not be particularly important if I can’t think of them.

Have a good weekend, kids.

the best and worst of december

"As we get older, time goes faster."
~some book I read once.

To be perfectly honest, I'm starting to get that haunting feeling that another year has gone by too fast, something I hate about December. Sometimes I wonder exactly how fifteen years have already escaped from me, how I am in high school, how I've come this far in such a short amount of time. I feel like it can't possibly be 2011 just next month, because I remember 2001 so vividly it can't have been ten years ago. It's like the years have been passing sneakily behind my back and I only just turned around and realized that a whole decade has gone by.

My friend ran for vice president this year, and a line in her campaign speech was, "there are some days we can't wait to grow up, and other days we never want to." It's very Peter-Pan, but also so, so true. That's why I'm making a goal of appreciating my high school years, because they're going to slip by too fast if I'm not careful to make the most of them.

On the flip side, one of my favorite things about December is, of course, Christmas :) I don't enjoy the crazy commerical aspect of it, and my friends call me Scrooge because I refuse to get into the holiday spirit before December 1st, but I adore seeing Christmas lights decorate the dark neighborhoods, the scent of pine needles and apple pies and spending time with my cousins. There's a glow in family that only occurs around Christmastime, something that makes us all a little more charitable, a little more cheerful.

The wonderfully simple appeal of Christmas is that it is warm. Hot chocolate. Fireplaces. Red. Green. Candles. Lights. Candy. Hugs. Music. Food. Friends. Family.

And yes, gifts :)

Here is a cute Christmas song you haven't heard before, by the beautiful little band Brighten (they're my new obsession)...
Enjoy the rest of your 2010...make the most of the month you have left.

a parking lot proposal

I have a love/hate relationship with my bio class—it can be truly entertaining at times, when the whole class gets off-topic and we participate in discussions about Harry Potter, 2012 or Ned’s Declassified during long blocks. Then again, it can drag on miserably and leave me with a profound dislike of enzymes and biomolecules.

Today, however, was an extraordinarily eventful class, starting with the awkward question, “Hey, Hoffman, are you going to propose to your girlfriend?”

About twenty sleep deprived freshman went dead silent (which never happens) waiting for our teacher—who acquired his first teaching job this year and doesn’t have the best reputation for discipline—to react to such a personal question.

Instead of reprimanding the speaker about the boundaries of appropriate conversation, Hoffman got a strange look on his face and demanded to know where he’d heard that from.

With a nervous laugh, one girl in the front row admitted she’d overheard him mention something about a ring in the hallway before school, assuring him she hadn’t meant to and really, she wasn’t a stalker, please don’t be mad.

Hoffman gave an awkward sigh-laugh and then smiled at us. “Yeah, guys, I got engaged over the weekend,” he said, prompting the twenty sleep deprived freshman to burst into applause and catcalls.

The guys all squirmed uncomfortably and the girls leaned forward in their seats, demanding the full story, displaying the same affection commonly used for baby rabbits, puppies and chick flicks.

Our bio teacher went on to explain that the ring was a family heirloom that had belonged to his mother and he’d visited with her family for Thanksgiving and asked her father permission the night before—warning all the guys in our class to do the same when they proposed, which made them squirm more and the girls smile wider—and on Black Friday, he and his girlfriend went to Kohl’s to buy a vacuum and he got down on one knee right there in the department store parking lot.  

“But what did you say?” one girl gasped, clasping her hands eagerly, because we’re girls and this is what we do—we eat up cutesy stories like this, we “ohhh” and “awww” until we’re hoarse and daydream about our own weddings when class gets too boring.

“That’s a little personal,” Hoffman objected, reddening, but told us anyway…

Jill, you are my best friend and I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Will you marry me?

The collective, anticipated awwwwww! arose and made our teacher turn maroon, instantly regretting he’d told a classroom full of fifteen year old girls exactly how he had proposed, but we congratulated him profusely and he thanked us sincerely, but announced no, we would not be invited to the wedding.

At lunch, when I gushed to my friends about it, they wrinkled their noses. “A parking lot? You serious? I woulda said no if my boyfriend popped the question in a parking lot…”

I gave some generic answer while they explained to me about how their engagement was going to be on the beach, or in Paris, perfectly sweet and perfectly romantic and perfectly fake enough to be the plot of a Nick Spark’s sob story. Privately, I made the firm decision I’d chose a parking lot over a French beach any day…at least it would be real, instead of something plastic and Hollywood, scripted and filmed and force fed to teenage girls, driving this idea of Disney Prince perfection into their brains. At least it would be unique, instead of something stolen right out of a rom-com, with candles and rose petals and some caramel-coated profession of love.

As we shuffled out of class after the bell sounded, one kid called out, “You think she’s hot, Hoffman?”

“What do you think?” Hoffman shot back.

happy (late) thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving in my town is a pretty big deal. Most all of the hype centers around the annual football game against our bitter rivals, the Raiders. We’re told it’s one of the oldest football rivalries in the country, a fact the game announcers and teachers are never hesitant to repeat.

Our pep rally on Wednesday was a thing of beauty—over a thousand kids decked out in blue and gold, clapping and singing and screaming. Admittedly, most of the aforementioned verbs were being demonstrated by seniors—us freshmen had to sit on the floor and we got maybe half the jokes the MCs told. We were generally intimidated and thoroughly awed by such rambunctious display of school spirit. Apparently, this gush of unity propelled our team to victory, because we won 20-17 in an overtime nail biter the next day. It was gratifying to see so many heartbroken Raiders in the parking lot, especially after witnessing a tense chant contest between some hardcore Rocket and Raider fans during the overtime period.

Thanksgiving, is of course, a holiday of food, football and gratitude, so here is my thoughtful little list of all the things in my life I’m grateful for slash couldn’t live without (I enjoy writing out the word ‘slash’.).

-My friends I’m sorry for the cliché, but my apologies don’t make it any less true. I am blessed with truly extraordinary friends, none of whom I could live without. They know my weaknesses, know my strengths, make me laugh, pick me up and keep me going. My friends are also amazing therapists and have saved my sanity more than once. You guys are my air and my everything and I love you all to death.

-My family Another cliché, but what sort of person wouldn’t give thanks to their family? At the very least, they are responsible for your existence. My parents are, of course, frustrating, but they’re selfless and hard-working and loving. My siblings are loud, annoying and immature—but then again, they are funny, endearing and supportive. I’m also fortunate enough to have a wealth of cousins, aunts and uncles who are never stingy with their praise or hugs. I may not always show it, but I love my family.

-Music I’m one of those kids who spend their free time crawling through various youtube links and falling in love with underground bands. Music gets me through my day. It is universal. It is expressive. It is soothing. It is exciting. It is loud. It is beautiful.

-My bed. This may sound creepy, but I love my bed—it is fluffy and purple and queen-sized. I read, write, think and dream there. Needless to say, I’ve gained great naps on that oversize pillow as well. I realize that not every kid in the world has a bed—no, you’re not allowed to get on my case for sounding like one of those Sponsor-an-African-Child infomercials—so I’m lucky that I have such a wonderful and dependable place to sleep every night.

-Dance. I take Irish dance lessons—shut up, I have a whole rant you’ll most likely hear later—and I couldn’t be more thrilled or dedicated to it. I’ve become completely obsessed with the subculture Irish dance has. I love the friends I’ve made, I’m proud of the awards I’ve won and the competitions I’ve attended and the great leg muscles I’ve acquired during my five years dancing. I’m lucky to be so passionate about my pastime, and grateful for all the support I get.

And thus my corny Thanksgiving themed post ends J

so my blogging career begins...

I’ll just go ahead and pose the question you’re asking—why was I self-centered enough to start a blog about my painfully average life?

The answer’s really very simple—I talk far too much and I like to write. The former is nothing new—I am, after all, a teenage girl. I would like to say that I do not conform to the hour-long-phone-conversations-about-absolutely-nothing slash texting-almost-every-waking-second stereotype, but then I would by lying. My brother says I get honesty points for admitting the fact I depend on my cell phone. However, my brother also claims potatoes are religious objects, so his opinions are not especially valuable to me.

The latter is actually an understatement. I do not simply like to write—I adore it. In the third grade, I wrote my first novella about four girls who found a secret passage to an underground town and embarked on a quest to defeat an evil lord with the aid of their flying horses. I like to think I’ve improved since then, but who knows? I’ve written short stories, novels, personal narratives, vignettes, but I’ve never been able to keep a diary for more than a month or two. When I go back and read them, my diaries contain multiple misspellings and a lot of uninteresting complaints. On the other hand, I don’t want to write about made-up characters all the time, because they aren’t real and I could use some serious doses of reality. That’s where the blogging comes in (I hope I’m making sense…)

So, ladies and gentlemen, I present you with this laughable little blog of a mediocre teenager’s twisted thoughts. Enjoy!