The Root of All That is Good and Evil

Starting school next week does not sound all that appealing to me. Though for different reasons, I remember dreading going to school first term as well; and yet I actually ended up enjoying it. I hope I have such luck this upcoming term.

Speaking of school, I find it so interesting that, in spite of having less friends, in spite of paying thousands of dollars to attend and in spite of classes being more difficult, college is so much more enjoyable than high school. After thinking about it for awhile, I've come to the conclusion that, at least for me, the enjoying stems from one root--and that is freedom. Coming and going as I please, not being micromanaged as much and choosing more of the classes I want to take are all mere manifestations of this increased freedom. Such importance there is in freedom! When used appropriately, correctly and prudently, how extensively it can brighten a circumstance that would otherwise be bleak.

But what opposition there is in our agency! Where much joy, goodness and peace may resound, there is also much lamentation, deterioration and contention. To think that the consequences of cold men crashing humans into skyscrapers can be traced to the same thing that the consequences of a heroic man risking his life to save lives is completely valid, yet completely mind-boggling.

However, maybe it's the stark difference in the outcomes of freedom that make us better appreciate it. After having six days of sunshine and then having a seventh, would you be as overjoyed on that seventh day as you would be if you had six days of rain, thunder and lightening and then the next day had sun? The negative outcomes of freedom should evoke in us a feeling of gratitude for the positive outcomes of choices and cause us to fix in ourselves a determination to hold fast to our freedom, whilst shunning that which would seek to destroy our agency, or even another's agency (whether that be an evasive government, drugs, murder, etc.).

So everything is made more beautiful because of freedom; even things that seem to have good intention behind it (such as high school) can be made more dull or worthless or evil when freedom is chiseled or altogether blown.

Wooden Toilet Seats are Warmer

There's a profound power in a change in geography--even if it's only for a few days. Being around the same landmarks, shops, etc. so easily can drag one down with the emotions and nostalgia and bitterness of certain memories; escaping those remembrances for a short time, however, often makes it easier to face them once again, but with less attachment, for which I am grateful.

I watched my grandpa talk a lot these past few days, especially at dinnertime. Generally speaking, he seems to be less prone to feeling the need to talk to a whole bunch to people, but I've discovered that he is extremely passionate about food and what better time to talk about food than when you're eating it? I know you're probably thinking, "Well, of course, he's passionate about food--he's a man"; however, his passion about food is more founded upon the concept that it is extremely important to be cautious about the things you put inside of you, the "being healthy" aspect of food, if you will. I found it intriguing to watch his eyes come to life, this 83-year old man be more energetic than a 13-year old and, most of all, see chunks of food come shooting out his mouth because he's missing some of his front teeth. My grandma and grandpa seem to structure their whole day around food, preparing it and making sure it's healthy. I wonder if that just happens as you get older, you know, where what matters the most when you were a baby becomes one of the most important aspects of life once again?

I've also realized lately that I have a hard time missing most people. It's not a matter of not caring, for there are many people that I care immensely about, nor is it a matter of not desiring to see someone on a more frequent basis; but it just seems like it's fairly easy for me to get on with my day and not have it affect me too extremely when I don't get to see them all the time. Of course, there are exceptions: one person, who is countries away, and little children. And sometimes a few others. I hope that doesn't sound too cruel.

I'm at an interesting point in my life. Going to Utah and seeing old friends again these past few days made me realize this may be the last time for many of them. Many of them are going on their missions soon and who knows where I'll be once they get back? I guess I've just always been able to go back; goodbyes were never final. This time is different and it's easy for me, probably because I know I'll always talk to Joe at least.

Oh, and by the way, I've decided I like wooden toilet seats. It's warmer when you sit down.

Realignment

All that has been happening in my life these past few months can be put into three categories: work, school or personal things I would not write on a public website. The first two would make for a boring blog and the latter has not been written about for obvious reasons. These are my justifications for my lack-of posts.

As I've seen many of my friends go off to college, it seems as if many of them now have Facebook albums full of pictures of new friends, dorms, and etc. There have been brief moments where I find myself envying the social aspect of their lives, wondering what life would be like if I would have chosen some of my other college options. When you're not living on campus, Portland State University, at least from my experience, seems to not be as unified as many of the schools my friends are at; making new friends seems to not be as high on the priority scale for many of the people there. I wonder if that's because the average age attending PSU is higher than schools like UofO and BYU. As people get older, it seems as if having that large circle of friends just becomes less practical. Which is why I guess I fit well in the PSU atmosphere. Although a part of me craves companionship, as I've cultivated the more independent side of myself, where I've had more opportunity to be alone, I've also found a very desirable way of living; constantly spending time with friends, texting nonsense for the majority of the day and all the other crevices of being a social butterfly I've started to find to be extremely impractical, not to mention time consuming and quite possibly worthless in a lot of cases. There is a certain amount of loneliness involved with making the switch in lifestyles, but there is still much to appreciate. Maybe I was a hermit in another life?

To leave that paragraph as is, without further clarification, would be to lie in my own little way. I am content in many ways without the obligation of talking to people, but I can't help but admit that I do desire a handful of friends on which I can thoroughly rely, maybe even just one person. This sounds very girlish of me, but my mind automatically turns to marriage; I don't require a lot of people to be happy, but I think having that one person I love would be more than enough. Who knows when that will be, though? I certainly don't suspect any time soon.

Do you know what I've started to realize lately? The times that I'm mad, it's because I want to be. The times that I make poor decisions, it's because I want to do it. Even if, in my head or to other people, I express my complete distaste in being mad or in making bad decisions, all I am is justifying and lying. And I don't think I stand alone in this. We want to be mad when certain things set us off because it satisfies some little dark spot inside of us; we want to make poor choices because it momentarily makes us happy. With that being said, when we're mad or feeling any other negative emotion known to man, we have nothing to blame but ourselves. It's difficult for me to fully grasp that, though something or someone may intentionally or unintentionally create some circumstance for bitterness or anger or malice to be provoked in me, such responsibility and power we have over our own reactions and emotions if we but want it!

I sure have a lot of realigning to do.

Homelessness

As I was walking around the Portland State campus today with my two pairs of socks, scarf, gloves, long sleeve shirt and jacket, I still felt cold. On top of my obvious measures to stay warm, I'm also fairly obvious about my preferences when it comes to weather; I feel bad for my friend who had to listen to my lack-of partiality to the cold. However, on my way home from school, once I had some time to myself, I started to think about what it would be like to have to sleep in this weather, to not have a nice, warm home to come to where I can take a bath to warm up my feet; my mind then flooded with the many lumps I've seen on the streets of Portland throughout my many visits there. And those lumps are people. People who get cold just like I do. My complaining quickly seemed foolish and I couldn't help but feel a little sad. Why are those people under those ragged sleeping bags there? I know that many of them are likely there as a direct result from poor choices, but that can't be the case with all of them. And even if those people are sleeping on a sidewalk because of poor choices, it makes me sad that they allowed those poor choices to control their lives to that extent, where another drink, another smoke becomes more appealing than a warm room with a fridge. Wherever those hidden faces under the sleeping bags are, no matter the reason for having a concrete as a bed, I hope they are able to find warmth.

Another aspect about the whole homelessness ordeal is that many of those people wandering the streets are extremely talented. I'm almost awed by how those people asking for money seem to be able to talk to anyone. From my perspective, they seem to not care what people think, to not be intimidated by people that "normal" people would be intimidated by. I'm convinced that many of those homeless people could make better salesmen than those guys who went to college for it--if only those talents and abilities were directed in a better way.

There's something that just seems so carefree about being on the streets that I sometimes envy if I don't really think about it. No worrying about bills. No worrying about what people think. No worrying about cleaning a house. No worrying about being stressed out about a job. No worrying about going to school. The homeless life just seems so simple and I feel like it's so easy for me to get caught up in the most trivial of things.

However, in spite of all the worries that come with not being homeless, it's worth it. Yes, I may have to worry about bills. Yes, I may be concerned about what people think to a certain extent. Yes, I may worry about having a clean house. Yes, I may have a job that may stress me out once in awhile. Yes, I may spend time going to college and doing homework. But all of those "negative" things also have an outweighing positive side, and at least I don't have to have the two big worries of being hungry and staying warm.

Once I met a homeless man that I really respected, and still respect. It was my birthday, so I decided to go to Portland with some friends and we ended up at Voo Doo Donuts. It's a fairly popular place, so it wasn't too big of a surprise that there was a line that extended past the door of the shop and, while my friends and I were waiting in line, a homeless man with a stack of newspapers came up to us. He explained that he's selling newspapers for a foundation that informs people about homelessness and that he was, in fact, homeless; he continued to educate us on how each newspaper costs $1.00 and that he receive $0.75 of that $1.00, with the $0.25 going to the foundation that prints it. I only had larger bills, so I told him that, once I bought my donut, I would love to come purchase a newspaper from him, which I did. The thing that amazes me the most is that he wasn't just sitting on the side of the street with a sign asking for money; but rather, he was doing what he could to work, even if he got very little money for it. What a great guy. You can meet all sorts of amazing people when you keep your eyes open.

Letter to a Termite

Dear Termite,

As with most of you secondary invaders, you are attracted to weakened, damaged and dying trees and, therefore, have little fault in your invasion of me. And then again, this brittle bark holds some bitterness yet.

Do not think I plead for your sympathy or strive to make any justification in my fall, but I've stood alone for so long; with no others plants or shrubs to console or help withstand, I took the brunt of a storm that left me vulnerable. The constant weight of wind plucking my leaves and breaking my branches cracked me open, caused me to wonder at the sight of myself falling to pieces.

Even you felt the storm and wind and needed shelter; it's a miracle and a condemnation that the hurricanes did not merely whisk you away. So, at the first touch of your buggy bones I shuttered with shock, welcoming in any creature, for I had seen none for days and days; and there we were, two entirely different organisms, seemingly as one. I could not help but smile sometimes, when I thought of enveloping you, keeping you safe, as I continued to be thrashed by wind and rain. I guess I was still alone then, in spite of you being in my creases and corners, feeding your appetite. But it is just hard when you have not seen a tree in days--it even causes one to settle for a termite.

Do not take offense when I speak of merely settling, dear termite, for you have your place among your own. It's just a tree and a termite do not do well together; well, unless you are the termite, for the termite doesn't have to do any losing, only gaining.

And I rejoiced for a time with you in my bark; I even dared hope that you were there solely for shelter. But, instead of shaking you off, whispering to the wind to just blow you away, I bathed in self-destruction and allowed you to stay; not only did I continue breaking apart on the outside, but quickly, I saw, that my innards easily became dust with you near.

And you were fat and happy and greedy; and I increasingly became a mere stick, torn apart and with nothing to give.

Hopping away, you looked back, for the initial coldness and cruelty of the wind came as a surprise to you, and called to this hallow tree to let you back in. I relented, for it was hard to see you go, in spite of your eating me alive.

And then I suspected: if a tree were to ever feed on termites you would not have sought shelter with me; if this parasitism were reversed, I knew you would quickly flee.

I shook and shuttered and quaked in anger, found that I had strength yet. And you left, for you realized I would no longer allow you to make sawdust out of me.

The wind still beats, but I've found within in me an invincible spring. I will not fall.

Love,
The Tree

Nothing Much

Today I left my debit card in an ATM; I needed to be somewhere and was in a hurry, so I accidentally left it in the machine at Bank of America. I didn't realize this until I looked at my phone, noticed I had a missed call from my assistant manager and listened to my voicemail, which told me a customer had kindly brought it in and that I could get my card on Friday.

I love people.

Though this person could have taken my card for themselves, though this person could have not taken the time to find someone to keep the card safe for me, this person had integrity--in spite of having no direct reward. I'm grateful for those who care enough about others to do those little things here and there that make a huge difference. I know that it's easy to think that there's so many bad things going on around us, which may be true, but to witness and experience all the good things about us is not only comforting but reassuring.

Though I love people, I've also began to realize how I've started to put less of a priority and value on socializing; this does not go to say that I feel like I don't need anyone, for I know a few people of which I need, but having tons and tons of friends to constantly spend time with is unnecessary--and quite time consuming. The word "alone" has often held many negative connotations for me, but I think it's starting to manifest a certain beauty and peace in it that people just can't replace.

A clean conscience is the best friend one could ask for. Other people and things in your life are replaceable, so be sure to cater to the most important one first.

There isn't much else to say that doesn't let you in on too much, other than the fact that school is going well. When I first started at Portland State University, I was really resenting going; however, there's a lot that I like about going to school, mostly the learning aspect of things and maybe a person here or there. It seems to me that a lot of people at PSU are just kind of distant from one another; we're not a very close-knit group or anything and I haven't made a huge handful of friends, but I kind of like it this way. It helps me stay focused on school, for my main goal is to get out of there as soon as possible.

Sorry this isn't much.

My Homework Break Thoughts

I hope I fall in-love multiple times in my life; whether it's expressed in a conversation with a friend, seen in the eyes of two people you spot walking down the street or glamorized in the movies, that fresh, new, always exciting love really has the potential of keeping one going. As a point of clarification, though, I would like to point out that when I say I hope to fall in-love multiple times in my life, I do not mean that I wish to fall in love with multiple people; what I mean is that I desire to have that person I'm meant to be with and to fall in-love with that one person over and over again. It's not that I plan on falling out-of-love or allowing a relationship to become monotonous and dull; but rather, I like the thought of always loving that person, yet having a consistent renewal of that love, a constant growth. I've heard over and over again that marriage is hard, that love is hard; and yes, though I may be ignorant and though there are difficult things that I can imagine to exist, I hate really focusing on that. If marriage be hard, let it be the times when the two of you are away from one another; if love be difficult, let it be the sleep and work that makes it so you cannot indulge in it. Maybe, as I get older, I'll speak with a more realistic tongue, but, even then, I hope that I won't focus on all the things that may be "hard", but realize how love has sincerely made my life easy in so many ways.

There's nothing quite as demeaning as finding out that you're not as strong and untouchable and great as you thought you were; and yet, though I find the chiseling away of my pride unsettling, I find the discomfort valuable, even beautiful in ways. These past few months, namely all of summer, I've attained a heightened sense of the areas in my life that I am lacking or, in other words, many of my vices. And, with the help of others, I'm starting to see much--if not all--of these vices or flaws in my character stem from pride. It's not the kind of pride where I view myself as better than those around me, but the kind of pride where I've seemed to try to put out this image in my mind that I'm completely above my weaknesses and cannot be affected by them. That doesn't go to say that I don't believe that one can overcome weaknesses or become master over the things that strive to imprison oneself, for I know that one can choose, with the help of friends, family, God, etc., to not allow weaknesses to get the best of one's actions, but to knowingly put oneself into risky situations in thinking one can easily exercise restraint is a danger I thought myself immune to. As I've read The Autobiography & Other Writings by Benjamin Franklin, I've discovered I really like his description and view on pride:

"In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as Pride. Disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I could conceive that I had completely overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility."

That last part made me laugh out loud when I first read it! Obtaining a humble way of living and thinking and presenting oneself seems almost impossible; however, though impossible it may seem, though pride will seek to "peep out and show itself" every once in awhile, it's wonderful knowing that I can start now, start today, by just doing better. I'm not going to be perfect, but it's just a matter of consistently trying to rid myself of pride and really taking a look at myself and seeing what is in need of improvement. Of course that's easier said than done and I will probably not have the chance to report an official success of becoming conqueror, for I suspect this is a lifelong process.

If it wasn't for my lack-of time, considering that my life mostly consists of work and school at the present, I think I'd be taking greater advantage of this blog; it actually means a lot to me right now as I start considering, just as my lack-of time, my lack-of companions. In spite of my obvious romanticism at the beginning of this blog, I don't want a boyfriend or any type of romance happening in my life right now; what I want are a good handful of friends that I can spend time with, listen to and speak with. It's not that I don't have anybody, and I am grateful for the friends that I do have, but it just seems that many have left or I'm just not as close to the people I once was extremely close to. Such is life, I suppose, but I can't help but desire something new, or some type or renewal in what already exists. But I only want something simple, something that makes me happy and encourages me to do what's right. If there's anything other than that, I think I'd rather just be alone for now.

Weeds

My hands seemingly vibrate as they graze the chain-linked fence as I'm strolling the perimeter of the school. It's not that I don't have any friends, because I really do; I could easily jump in to that game of basketball and beat all the boys or swing on the swings or jump rope with some of the girls in my class. That's what is great: I can spend time with my classmates or I can wander off on my own and no one will think twice about it. I can do what I want--as long as it's in line with my teacher's rules or it's not against the law or it's okay with my parents. What I mean is, is my classmates are so unassuming and if I'm found by myself I won't be thought weird for it. I can even wear red pants with black stripes and a huge baggy shirt that's mostly white with flowers and they still will view me as normal. Who knows why I wanted to be alone today. Maybe if I was thirteen or sixteen or older then I would need a reason, but, since I'm in elementary school, I don't need a reason; I don't need a reason for the things I do or a reason for the things other people do. As I hear the other children laughing in the background, I scan the grass for those plants with the fragile white seeds that I see people blow on. I was told that if you're able to blow all the seeds off and you make a wish it will come true, so, once I find one (it wasn't very difficult, for the grass seems to be full of them), I close my eyes, manufacture a wish and hope I blew hard enough.

And when I open my eyes again, I'm a woman and I realize how silly it was to blow on such a plant; what I hoped would make my dreams come true, really only planted seeds for more weeds to grow. And then from those weeds that grew, I can only imagine how man kids plucked and blew and spread those invasive killers as well. Although I wouldn't necessarily go back to my personal childhood, a part of me wishes I could go back to some form of ignorance, simplicity and contentment that many other childhoods have to offer--no matter how unreal it really is. But you can't go back, can't take back. All you can do is pull all the weeds out and pray that you dug deep enough and didn't leave the roots as residue. Problem is, I worked on a patch of that grass, thought I pulled out all the weeds and turned my back, thinking it was all over. But it wasn't all over, for when I returned there were even more weeds than before. This time there's no faint laughter from children or a recess, though. Those dandelions are deceiving and my hands are bleeding from these thorns that keep popping up and I wish someone were here to help me get them out, but there isn't.

From Carefree to Caustic

Imagine yourself in your room, that place of comfort and familiarity, with the blinds open, some slight light streaming through and your favorite radio station (mine happens to be 94.7) playing. Do you see yourself dancing? I do. In fact, I happened to do that today. There's something so freeing about being able to move the way I want, be it weird, suggestive or any other way, without thought or worry or concern of what others think.

It's too bad that most of day wasn't that carefree.

Apparently I should be more teachable. Apparently I should be less defensive. Well, a big shout out and thanks to those who have pointed that out, but, if that truly happens to be the case, do you really think that kindly telling me that is going to accomplish much? All I'd do is get defensive and not listen if you did, right? So, with that said, maybe next time you shouldn't waste your time and effort, for, if I really am what you say I am, it would all just be in vain.

I sure love it when people point out the obvious for no rhyme or reason, especially when I already know what I need to work on.

Wearing High Heels to Work: The Epitome of a Bad Idea

In spite of having a well-coordinated outfit, multiple compliments from co-workers about how cute my shoes are and pants that didn't drag on the ground, high heels are one of those inventions that people take part in out of stupidity--me included. What's more, is that, even though those blasted shoes hurt my feet, I'm going to continue wearing them. Please applaud me for being so judicious in my choice of wanting my stubby legs to look longer than they really are over practicality.

Not unlike Annie Dillard's encounter with a weasel in Living Like Weasels, I stumbled across a gopher today. I was walking along one of my favorite paths to walk on next to my house when I stopped momentarily to better hear a voice message I had received from the very person who made that path so special to me; and then, after experiencing some slight nostalgia, I looked to my right to see a little brown gopher with big teeth popping his head through a hole. There was a pile of dirt next to his meager hole as if he was in the process of making some new additions to his home and I think I interrupted his work by so rudely staring at him for what felt like minutes. When I didn't turn my head, his gaze met mine and we stood fixed, entranced. What an odd occurrence it is to feel such a connection! Though I envy that gopher's lifestyle in the sense that he really has only two things he needs to worry about (having food and having shelter), what a dismal thing it would be to live underground; I would much rather choose the freedom of the sky as a bird. However, just as I barely pointed out, I'm sure the gopher doesn't know any better, doesn't worry that he lives in a hole nor complains about his place in life. What a cruel joke being a human can (I say can, because I must concede that we have the ability to improve our circumstances in many cases) be: we are given a certain place in life but we have the ability to be bothered by it.

What's the best way to gain and keep a lot of friends? I'm completely convinced that a major part of it is merely not caring. In friendships, it's quite easy to be offended if the other person doesn't seem to be reciprocating, if he or she seems to not come to talk to you about things anymore; and I think many people decide that, in order to set the friendship right, they must express that concern to their friends, explain that they care and that they're bothered by the way things are going. But the best way to keep those friendships are going is just not caring. Not caring causes you to not be offended by every little thing. Not being offended by every little thing causes you to not have overly high expectations. And not having overly high expectations causes you to take some of the things people do with a grain of salt and allows you to continue considering someone a friend. I find myself having a hard time not caring about things sometimes, but it's really when I don't care, when I don't let trivial things affect me, that my friendships flourish.

I finished that book about investing I spoke of last post! I really breezed through that thing. As a kid, it seemed that only fiction could ever catch my interest, but, as I continue to grow, I've really found a lot of treasures in both fiction and nonfiction, just different types of treasure yet both important nonetheless.

I recently had a conversation with a family friend about how, in school, we are forced to interpret pieces of literature certain ways and are told by people "in high places whose opinions really matter for some reason" that this poem means this and nothing else. I've decided I extremely dislike the boxes people create when it comes to art in the written form; I know that when a writer writes something, a poem for instance, that they often are trying to say something with his or her work, but words are such beautiful, subjective beings and I think a true writer wants their words to be something freeing, a creative adventure--and not something so narrow in scope that it has to be taken in only one way. I think that's why I've always had such a difficulty when I've been asked in school to pick out the important information in a piece of literature; in my mind, people place value on different things and what's important to me isn't important to the next person, which is why I hate it when some person decides that there is only one definite answer. Out of all the questions that ever present themselves in life, I feel like it's rare that there is ever only a sole answer.

Doing the Right Thing

I recently stopped talking to someone. As time continues, I learn more and more that even if you care about someone, even if a big part of you desires to associate with that said someone, that doesn't mean you should; sometimes whether you talk to someone or not is a matter of doing the right thing and, when you discover the appropriate path, it's best you take the corresponding action and go through with it--even if it's hard in a way. People can have a lot of good qualities and still not be meant to be in your life. I guess it's a matter of realizing that emotions are irrelevant; one should live a life of honor most of all, where one feels good about who one is and what one does. And merely associating with someone (or making any other type of choice or action) is never worth sacrificing that. The people who are meant to be in your life will expound on your virtue, honor and make you feel good about them being in your life.

The materialism of many women really makes me laugh sometimes, especially when they think that it can substitute sincerity and true emotion. This past week, my mom and I got into a conversation about how many women expect their husbands, boyfriends, significant others, etc. to buy them flowers if an argument has taken place; if the men in their lives wish to gain any amount of forgiveness, then some type of gift is in order. I, personally, think it's ridiculous! In a lot of cases, it seems that materialism trains men into thinking that flowers are a quick fix, causing men's apologies to be anything but genuine; it's as if any hope of change, any sorry that was in order, wilts just as the rose petals do and then men are back to their old habits. When the time comes for me to be in some type of committed relationship, I want the man I love to know that he doesn't have to buy that love with flowers or other nice things; moreover, I want our kind words and loyal actions to be what truly count, so that, if we ever for some strange reason get into a fight (like that could ever happen!), we resolve it in sincere, genuine ways that asks for true effort rather than shallow gifts that, in the end, amount to nothing.

I know generalizations are not always the best things to go with, but this one is not far from the truth: the male race is terrible at listening! I know I shouldn't be so surprised, for it happens quite frequently, but I still find it shocking and, not to mention, extremely annoying each time I experience it. So many times I feel like my voice isn't really valued--and it's something I see with other females as well. If I'm only around guys, I find myself continuously being interrupted; I find myself not being listened to after I intently listen to what each one of the guys I'm with has to say. I know our country has gone far in the area of women being treated as equals, but it seems like there still is this gap in many a man's mind that makes them think that what they have to say is somehow more important than what women have to say, that what women have to say is worth interrupting and not listening to. However, much of that will unlikely change, which is why I'm not really writing this to complain or anything; I'm writing this to express my deep appreciation, admiration and respect for those men that truly listen, that value what I have to say. There truly are people in this world that defy the norm and, though I find them a great exception, I think I tend to treasure them a lot more because they are rare diamonds amongst mounds of coal.

This past week I started reading a book about investing. I've always heard that investing was a good idea but it was never something that caused a deep interest to take root inside me--until this book. Admittedly, I am fairly ignorant when it comes to the money game, but now I have a desire to learn and a desire to sacrifice in order to become financially independent. I know becoming so will take time, but I'm excited about all the opportunity that is open to me and up for grabs! In this book, it speaks of discovering your own personal reason for wanting to invest and how it's so important to do that since that reason will carry you through all the difficult times and I think I discovered my reason: someday I'm going to be married and have children and I want to be able to focus on those relationships instead of always having to worry about scraping by. For me, my reason for wanting to invest is all about relationships and having those relationships enriched; I want my husband to know that I'm with him because I want to be--not because I need to be in order to be financially secure--and I want my children to have more than I have had. The book is directed towards women, so I wouldn't say I recommend it to everyone, but I do recommend that everyone give up a little time to actually look into investing and what it can do!

As to what I've been up to lately, I've mostly just been working. There is a definite learning curve in any new job that is undertaken, but I'm looking forward to the time that I am more confident in my knowledge and that things just become second nature. Hope all is well with you guys!

Balloon Stealer

I stole something today. They were round, colorful, full of helium and tied around a sign that said: "1,2 & 3 bedroom apartments." With Jacob as the driver and with Meghan's house key in hand, I cut the balloons loose when the street was as clear as it was going to get and ran back to the car in order to try and stuff the balloons through the door; however, there were many more balloons than I was expecting, so I squished as many as I could in the back with Meghan (who was almost completely smothered) and cut the rest loose. We had fun sucking helium out of a few of them and trying to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star! What a great idea, right?

Work, Nicole and 27 Things About Me

When I'm starting something new, I usually feel a more-than-I-should amount of nervousness; wanting to be perfect at whatever I embark on plays a big role into that anxiousness, if I were to take a guess. However, though I did feel a little nervous starting at Bank of America today, I found myself being far more at ease than I was expecting. But I'm not complaining! I mostly shadowed one of my co-workers and got to do some hands-on learning, which turned out being really nice. All the people in my branch are women; surprisingly, I think I'm going to like that. I still have tons of room for improvement, but I would say that it was a good first day and I'm excited to get fully situated.

Nicole Rose is leaving for college tomorrow! It's a good thing I got back from Utah yesterday so her and I could see each other today. As our time together was nearing a close, I found myself not knowing how to say goodbye; the best way to do it, in my opinion, is to just act like it's any other time you're saying goodbye. There's really no need to dramatize things.

Because I don't really have anything else to write and because I just feel like doing it, here's a list of 27 things about me that you may or may not know (for those who read, you should tell me how many of them you sincerely knew, just for fun!):
1) When I do my make-up, it takes me the longest to put on mascara; I guess I just like having my eyelashes look nice.
2) My back has hurt everyday--without fail--since 6th grade. I honestly don't remember what it feels like not being in pain all the time.
3) When I'm tired, I have a tendency of rubbing my forehead and/or my eyebrows.
4) I really love running, walking or riding bikes at night, all by myself. There's few other things that can relax me as much.
5) I hate having my nails long because it makes me feel dirty.
6) I always sleep with a fan on at night, because I'm easily annoyed and have a hard time falling asleep to any other distracting noises that may be taking place in a house.
7) I find it easier to cry at a wedding than a funeral.
8) My favorite joke involves a cow and three baby calves.
9) Sometimes I'd rather go to Portland all by myself instead of going with other people, because I like not having to talk to anyone if I don't want to and being able to take in the whole scene, energy and aura of the city a little more.
10) I'd rather have a simple, cheaper wedding ring than a glamorous, flashy one; I also don't see the sense in having an engagement ring AND a wedding band. Just give me one dang ring please!
11) I have a bad habit of leaving my purses places (i.e. movie theaters, parks and people's houses), causing me to wonder why I carry one around at all.
12) When people smack their gum, I want to punch them in the face.
13) I think I look prettier after I've cried because my eyes turn super green.
14) I really like writing in journals; I have three that are already completely full and I'm more than halfway on my fourth one.
15) My favorite sports are probably basketball and volleyball, though I'm not really amazing at either.
16) I'm extremely competitive and I'm a big talker during games; however, I lose most of the time.
17) I ate a ladybug when I was little once.
18) I love the smells of gasoline and sharpies--but I don't sit there and sniff them.
19) My favorite flowers are lilies, roses and gerbera daisies.
20) A hammock is going to be found in my backyard when I have my own house.
21) When I get married, I'd feel content at living anywhere really, but, at some point, I hope to live in Bangour, Maine and Gig Harbor, Washington.
22) Most of my dreams are bad ones, involving me running away from scary people, not being in control of a car and smoking and drinking (even though I've never done that in real life and don't have much of a temptation to do so).
23) People who truly listen and ask me questions about how I feel, what I think or what I'm talking about have my heart.
24) Taylor Swift music annoys me now.
25) I have an extremely close relationship with my mom; I can tell her anything, probably more than basically everyone in my life.
26) When I think of perfect, genuinely good people, Cheyenne Webb, Matthew McDermott and Spencer Marsh are the people who come to mind.
27) I'm a big fan of roller coasters.

Life's Cruel Paradoxes

I've discovered at least two of the cruel paradoxes of life since the last time I wrote:

1) When I try to distance myself from others, when I build walls around myself, when I am secluded and morph into a hermit, I feel lonely; and yet, when I strive to put myself out there, when I drop myself into a crowd of people, when I fill my time with hanging out with friend after friend, I still feel lonely. Is there anything out there that takes this away?

2) After much consideration and observation of others, I've concluded that kissing (and all that comes after) creates yet destroy everything. What is meant as a beautiful show of affection that can take a relationship to new heights can, on the other hand, under the wrong circumstances, kill a friendship and breed bitterness. I guess it's a matter of experiencing those things with the right person--at the right time.

I just got back from Utah earlier today; as always, I had mixed emotions about leaving. It was amazing seeing family again and I'm extremely grateful that my little brothers Max and Jaden still remember me, though months sometimes pass between the times we get to see each other. I have to say, though, I did not miss the disgusting, almost milky water and all the cockroaches that can be found in St. George. My sister Sammy got married and I had to try hard not to cry when I was standing in the bridesmaid's line; there's just something so precious about the union of two people who love each other, in spite of any obstacles that may exist. Being I am a girl, I couldn't help but think about the day that I get married sometime in the future. So many people get married prematurely and then there are others that discourage getting married until after college; however, I don't know when I will get married and I kind of just like thinking about cutting the cake when the time is right, without thought of "Oh, it's too early" or "Gosh, I waited until I was 28." I also decided that I hope to not get too caught up in having a perfect cake and flower arrangements; I think it's so easy for girls to slip into stress from worrying about the most trivial parts of a wedding and I really just want to focus on the person I love. I'm sure that's easier said than done, as most things are.

I have a question! If you're not officially in a relationship with someone, but, inside, you really like that person and care for them, are you being disloyal to them and your feelings if you are going off with other people and allowing for yourself to feel attractions towards those said other people? Should you stay perfectly true to that one person you genuinely want to be with, even if you both don't have a title, and just cut yourself off from others of the opposite sex? That doesn't make any sense, does it?--Ha, that last one's merely rhetorical.

I also have a joke! What is the most dishonest animal in the whole wide world? A lion. I made that one up myself this past week, so don't make me feel bad by telling me how lame it is and reiterating what I already know deep down :)

I also have a conversation to relay to you!

Me: "Grandma, I heard you were looking at the Hyundai Genesis?"

Grandma: "Oh, yes! Grandpa and I are hoping to get it when the ship comes in!"

Me: "Mom showed me pictures on the computer and it looks really nice. What are all the things you like about it?"

(Grandma proceeds to list a few different answers, none of which I remember except for one) Grandma: "...And it has this thing in the middle of the car that kind of looks like a map, but it talks to you!"

Cheyenne: "You mean a GPS?"

Grandma: "Oh, I don't know!"

(Cheyenne and me slightly bouncing up and down in the back of the car as we try to hold in our intense laughter while grandma continues talking like nothing happened)

Sorry this was so long, but it's been awhile! My first day working at Bank of America is tomorrow; I'm really excited, but kind of nervous as well. Let's hope I catch on quickly!

As the Handprints Fade

When I woke up this morning (well, afternoon actually), it hurt to move my body; I tried lifting up my head, then my legs, then my arms and, with each attempt, each body part flopped back down to the bed. But you know what? My hopes and heart were still soaring high and I couldn't ask for more, couldn't be more thankful.

The job search continued today and I applied to two more places. Things started looking up even more when I got a call from Bank of America and now I have an interview for Monday! Wish me luck. It's kind of funny why I even started applying to banks: I had an interview at Macy's a week or so ago and I was told they would hire me on the spot if I only worked Sundays, but, since I don't, the lady interviewing me suggested I apply to banks, where I wouldn't have to work Sundays. I was a little bummed at first that I wouldn't be able to accept a job offer at Macy's, because I would have gotten to work either in cosmetics or fine jewelry, but it feels good knowing I stayed true to my beliefs, which I would be nothing without.

I took my little sisters Brandi and Kyra to the park today. Usually I would take them to Indian Hills, but they wanted some variety apparently, so I took them to Reedville Creek. I felt bad for little Kyra because she had the sun in her face the whole time we were walking there and I kept looking down at her in the stroller, where she had her arm across her eyes to shield herself from the light. There is a fountian at the park and I think that was Brandi and Kyra's favorite; I was a little hesistant to let them play in the water too much because of the sign that said "Please, don't play in the fountain", but I let them stick their feet in it. Kyra kept bending over, dipping her hands in the water and then leaving wet handprints on the stone enclosing the water; the first handprint would always be the most dark and defined, but then, with each consecutive slap on the stone, the handprints faded more and more. Maybe it was how little they were, but the fading handprints reminded me of how, with each passing year, each passing month, each passing day, even each passing minute, youth and innocence is constantly fading too. I don't like imagining not being able to hurriedly run up to my little sisters and enclose them in my arms with ease--and yet, I'd have it no other way, for I know that, though youth may be lost, with each inch they grow, our love and sisterhood grow two. I just hope that they always remember how much I love them, never questioning it, like a child.

I'm having a sleep over with Kendra tonight; we're planning on going to the store, picking up a bunch of candy and watching movies. Doesn't that sound great? It's been far too long since we last did anything like that together and I couldn't be looking forward to it more.

Diverted

In addition to having sore thighs and a huge bruise on my left elbow, going boating at the lake today with Nicole Rose provided me with a lot of inner freedom and peace; it's interesting that I could be hurting my body so good yet clearing and rejuvenating my mind at the same time. It's kind of an oxymoron. The tube Nicole and I went on was really hard to stay on, probably mostly because it was small, we were on our stomachs and we had just put on tanning lotion, which made us super slippery! I'm pretty sure I fell off the most; not sure why that happened. I also knee boarded for my second time and it made me happy that I was able to get up all three times that I tried. However, though I really enjoyed all the adrenaline of tubing and knee boarding, I think my favorite part was just sitting in the boat and making laps around the lake; there's something about the wind in my face and the sparkle in the water from the sun hitting it just right that is so diverting. It's like all my worries and all the things that were bothering me just whisked away with the air passing by--and it still hasn't come back to haunt me. I'm just really happy right now, and I haven't been able to say that for awhile. I think a big part of feeling happy again has to do with experiencing all of today with such a great friend, too; Nicole and I tried going tubing separately, but I know I soon realized that it was much nicer screaming and laughing and almost dying when you're next to someone, even if it did make the tube a little more squishy.

Today, as I was writing in my journal, something hit me: Why hold on to someone who leaves you feeling unhappy and unsatisfied after almost every time you try communicating with them? I understand that there are sometimes exceptions to that, like with a spouse or family member, but it just doesn't make sense to put yourself through a milder version of hell for someone who isn't going to be there long term, who, on top of that, really sucks at even being there short term. It's better to just cut your losses and move on sometimes, no matter how beautiful or invigorating the past may be.

Oh, today I also realized that you shouldn't just toss a grape in your mouth. Why you ask? Well, it just doesn't taste as good that way; the best way to eat a grape is to carefully peel off the skin with your teeth and then toss the grape in your mouth. I'm sure that you're a lot better off now that you know that information.

Want to know who is one of the best people I know? My younger sister Cheyenne. When I think of someone perfect, she immediately comes to mind; I deeply appreciate her raw goodness, her constant smile and so many other things that words could never do her justice. Years ago, though we've always loved each other, our relationship wasn't so good; however, I love the unique relationship we have now and how I can consider her one of my best friends. It's not like we constantly are having deep, long conversations together, but I can say with the utmost conviction that some of the most precious moments to me are the memories of her and I staying up late (on school nights when we really needed to go to bed) and simply just talking.

Well, speaking of Cheyenne, her and I are about to watch Phantom of the Opera, so I guess I'm done for tonight :)

Gorging on Distractions

Usually distractions get on my nerves, but, lately, I welcome them with open arms; there's nothing better than something to get your mind off things. Merely trying to not think about something is vicious, for it only causes my brain to tick even more about exactly what I want my mind to be vacant of. The only way to be free is to stuff my mind to the very brink with other things, like boating, which I'm doing tomorrow, and skydiving, which I'm doing in a little less than two weeks; anything with the wind striking my face, slipping through my skull and stealing my brain is much appreciated. I think I wish to not be able to think at all sometimes.

I'm really thankful for my friends Joe and Nicole today. It's not like I talk to them daily or hang out with them at least once a week, but--no matter how much time passes or the distance in between us--it's nice knowing that they are still there. I love 'em.

I have been eating out so much lately! Last week, I ate out at Shari's twice and Red Robins once; this week, I ate at some place (I can't remember the name, but it was a really yummy Italian place) in Portland with Mikel and Jimmy Mak's yesterday with Nicole. Jimmy Mak's is probably my favorite restraunt, for the live jazz band playing in the background just really brings some great energy to any dinner; the calamari there is also exceptional! You need to go there sometime if you've never been.

Despite my admitted love for all the distractions in my life right now, I do feel slightly guilty gorging in them the way I have; I feel that I need to start focusing myself again. Many may say that having a bunch of fun could never be a bad thing, but too much of practically anything can be detrimental. As long as I get my act together before, Septemeber 27, when school starts, I think I'll be fine.

Well, I'm off to go swimming with some friends. Maybe I'll sit at the bottom of the pool for awhile.

Desolate

I have so much to say, yet nothing to say at all; I don't know if I'll be able to pull the words from my heart, through my shoulders, through my arms, to my hands today. It's a twisted paradox that makes it difficult to write a blog with as much enthusiasm as I usually feel, but I hole up, create walls and sit in those confines all alone far too often, so here's my feeble, momentary attempt to defy my usual trend. And yet, I can't help but think it all in vain, this vulnerability.

I've decided that I really like nice people. I guess most people do, but lately I've felt prone to especially appreciating them. As I've been applying to different places for jobs and calling to follow-up, I've talked to some of the most helpful, kind people; these strangers I've never even seen brightened up my day when many of those that I know, that I talk to often, that I spend time with haven't afforded me with the same type of seemingly genuine interest. I make it seem that I need all sorts of special attention, but it's not like that; it's more that I simply desire to have someone of which I can depend on--and those someones seem to be very scarce (or in another country). Some reciprocity would be nice; and not feeling like opening up who I am, what I think, how I feel is a burden on another would be the nicer still, which I guess is why I'm communicating this to a blog rather than an actual person. I miss feeling needed by someone and it's bothering me that strangers seem to care more than the people I'm closer to. Maybe my perspective is just especially skewed and unclear; however, whether I'm justified or not, it doesn't matter. The only person that I have to live with 24/7 is myself, so I think I just need to find ways to keep myself busy and distract myself. In fact, my mom, in her good nature, suggested that I look into some type of service, which sounds like a wise idea, though, ironically, it's when we're feeling down or having a hard time that it feels hardest to step up and focus on other people's problems. It really helps, though. I'll keep my eyes open for someone who needs me.

There's so much more I could say, and even feel like saying to a certain extent, but this is enough for now.

Thoughts on Flying

When I was riding back home from work in Portland yesterday, I saw a ladybug land on the outside of the max. It simply landed there for a few seconds and then flew away and my eyes followed it until it disappeared from view. It made me wonder: why did it do that? Why do lady bugs land on max trains or animals decide to run across the road only when cars come or cranes stay with one partner during their lifetime when humans have such a hard time doing that? Why do things do the things they do? Why do we love one person and not another? It's so beautiful that things are the way they are; there are so many inner workings of humans and animals and, though I wonder why a lady bug would land on a max train, I like not knowing. I like seeing little things that awe me and being able to appreciate them--because I don't know. Somethings become more beautiful and wondrous the more you know about them, but, on the other hand, somethings remain more beautiful and wondrous when they are left unknown. So I guess I will never know why that ladybug landed on the max train instead of a flower or a blade of grass, but maybe it just felt like doing something different. Or maybe it envied the silent people, except for the lady that wouldn't stop sneezing, sitting inside, though that wouldn't make sense because the ladybug is the one that gets to fly around and not worry about things. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be a ladybug or a bird or a bat--anything that can fly away.

Do you know what feeling I immensely love? Well, other than back rubs, of course, I have this thing of really enjoying sitting at the bottom of a pool and looking up; there's something so peaceful and relaxing in the way the water moves, how, though water is easily penetrated, the surface of the water acts as a barrier that cuts off all the cares and noise of the regular world--and I don't mind if it burns my eyes a little. My biggest problem is that I can't hold my breath long enough to take everything in to the degree that I wish I could. I guess on top of flying, it would be nice to be able to breath underwater.

I'm making things sound terrible, though, as if I would rather be either be above the ground or somewhere below and just not on it like I am now. But I would be lying if I didn't admit that there are some wonderful things to partake of here on the ground. If I were only able to fly or swim underwater, I'm certain I would miss walking along the path near my house that conjures of memories of last summer, rubbing my feet together when I'm under two blankets in bed and dancing in my room by myself. Yes, I think it's much better to be on the ground, but it would be something, wouldn't it, if we could experience all three?

Vulnerability

Maybe this is a slight hyperbole, but being vulnerable is one of the most frightening things; when I put myself out there, tell someone how I feel, it scares me. I never know if that person will reciprocate or if they will just discard the piece of my mind or heart I just slipped into that person's pocket. Ironically, though, in spite of that person's ability to utterly destroy me when I open up more and more, it's in that nakedness that there's also the possibility of being made far more happy than I could ever be on my own. It's a worthwhile risk, wouldn't you agree? :)

I was disillusioned in one of my classes today. It's so easy for me to look back at my past, or even take a look at my life now, and feel that it was and is really hard; however, though there have been things that have been difficult, after having a more intimate, personal class period (most of the class was gone, so there was less people there), I realized that I am so blessed to have the life I do. A few of my classmates spoke about their past and their lives up to this point and I never realized how many of my peers have been physically, verbally and sexually abused. I heard about people who had been in and out of foster care and people who had been ignored by many of their classmates, always being interrupted every single time they talked and had felt extremely alone. My heart hurt for them, yet I felt so inspired to see how optimistic they are about life, which was comforting. Everything just really made me realize that we never know what people are going through, so we should tread lightly and always be willing to be a friend and be grateful for what we have.

I have the most adorable three year old sister! A few days ago, when it was actually sunny (not raining super hard like today, yesterday and the day before that), I decided to go lay out in my secluded backyard. I wear a one piece swimsuit if I go out swimming, for modesty purposes, but, I have to admit, I own a bikini so that I can lay out in my backyard if I am lucky enough to see some sun here in Oregon. Anyways, when I was out in my backyard, basking in the sun, my little sister Kyra decided to come out. At first, she had clothes on, but, after a few minutes passed by, I looked up to see her walking over to me without a shirt on and then she decided to lay down next to me. She seemed so proud of herself and I couldn't stop laughing.

Do you know what else makes me laugh? When I hear boyfriends and girlfriends complaining and whining about not seeing each other for a day or two. However, after my initial amusement, I almost want to punch them in the faces! I never actually would, but I wonder how they would feel about not seeing the person you like for eight months. I know how it feels and it sucks and it's lonely and it's hard, especially when I have another year and four months to go. It's okay, though :) I've realized more and more that distance does not affect the way I feel inside towards this person (It must be just him, because, with any other person or emotion, things fade with time) and time doesn't mean anything when we have so much more of it. At least I have plenty to look forward to.

If you're reading this, create a blog and start writing right now! I want to know what's going on with other people and Facebook statuses just don't cut it.

"Precious and fragile things need special handling"

Is it better to love in your own way or in society's way? Loving in your own way can result in a lot of loneliness, for if you are so immovable in the way you treat people, it can chase people away; however, loving in society's way can also result in a lot of loneliness, too, because, while you may still have people flocking to you, you would probably never be completely satisfied inside, since you would be a product of your environment when you should be learning to live for yourself. It's hard for me to choose either way, but, luckily, many things are never completely black and white and there's some gray area.

I know I posted this on Facebook not too long ago, but I really like it: If you wish to touch the fingertips of love, rather than conforming to the way society feels you have to love, love in your own way and on your own terms; if you want to move past the fingertips of love, to caress and embrace, you must compromise a little: you must find the one you are meant to be with, discover their terms, and then try to fulfill them--it's about loving in eachother's way, together. After watcing Citizen Kane (which is apparently one of the best films ever made according to the film gods), I was inspired to write that, because, even though I much dislike the idea of conforming, I decided a little conformity is necessary, but, when dealing with love, on a small scale and with the one you are meant to be with; it's okay to love them the way they want to be loved in some ways without giving up who you are.

I feel kind of alone lately. Which, then again, I don't know why I say lately because it's really nothing new. Someone can have a mass amount of people surrounding them or have very few he or she knows at all, but it's what goes on inside that birthes loneliness. For me, it's like there's so many things working, yearning and churning inside and sometimes I wish I could just pull them out, but it seems to always be that I either don't feel like the person would understand or it seems like they wouldn't care to understand. Plus, no one really asks and it would seem absurd to just randomly walk up to someone and dump out everything when they weren't really expecting it. On the other hand, sometimes I don't really have anything to say, but it sounds nice having a constant. I guess I do have a few constants, though, and that's my family. I remember that, when I was younger, it would always be that I would go to my friends with my problems and always seek their advice, but I rarely do that now; it has become for frequent that I go to my parents. I just feel like my parents have more experience and would be better at helping me overcome anything I am going through; most of my friends have just about the same experience as me, or less, and could not offer me any words that I wouldn't have already thought of.

Do you know what I've realized more and more as I've gotten older? No one can make you upset, but you. It's funny, because it's hard to really believe that some of the words people say can truly not have an effect on you, especially if they are harsh, but it's just a matter of growing thicker skin. Though it's hard, it's beautiful in a way, because it means that none of us have to always be swayed by our environment. But, with that, comes individual responsibility; it's easy to blame others for the way we are feeling, but, when we recognize that it's our choice to allow them to move us, then all the blame should really fall on ourselves. It's, of course, easier said than done, but it makes me happy, knowing that I can choose, because I've realized that some people don't care or feel bad about outwardly throwing dirt on the things that I hold most precious and it's comforting to know that I can hold my ground in spite of that.

A Few Words

This blog is pretty blank. I think I chose the most unexciting, unoriginal background; it probably won't catch eyes, but I'm okay with that. As I was looking at the different templates and thinking of the possibility of creating my own, I thought: Why strive for so much extravagance? Isn't it the words, the thoughts, the ideas that really matter? So I hope that the very few that chance by can look past the appearance and soak in the color of words.

I think that, if I were to create a list of some of my favorite things, words (literally) would be somewhere at the top of my list. I love it when people say, "A picture's worth a thousand words." And, though I agree, I would argue that a word is worth a thousand pictures, for how is it that one could not picture blue waves calmly kissing the sand, flip-flops, children chasing seagulls and those in-love holding hands, when I say the word beach? The thing that is nice about words is that the pictures they paint vary from one mind to the next; if one were to see a picture of a beach, the next person would see the exact same picture and the exact same beach. Words are far more subjective and individual, although a photographer would probably disagree with me.

It's going to be interesting to see if I'm able to get back into the habit of writing in a blog. I remember doing it fairly consistently years and years ago, but that was when all I cared about was communicating: my social life was my most prized possession. I guess I still care about "having a social life" to some extent even now, but, in so many cases, I find it extremely superficial and a waste of time; it's the same old small talk and the same old drama and it's rare that I find anything refreshingly new. There are some exceptions, though, of which I am grateful. Moreover, no matter how old a person is, self-expression, especially in writing, is something we should all strive for, for it lets people peek over walls and look back into the portal of what once was.

So, for starters, graduation is up and coming--a little over a month to be more exact. It's scarcely real to me, although I feel like I've looked forward to graduating ever since I first started high school. Do most people think that it feels so surreal, too? It's strange, because, though I haven't had any scarring or damaging things happen to me within those walls, I hate high school; I've had friends, good grades and fairly nice classes, yet I'm so excited for this portion of my life to be over. Yes, I'm excited for the obvious reasons, like not having homework, but it's more than that. I've felt so constrained these past few years, as if I was a little puppet to do the school's bidding. I understand all the rules to an extent, why students have to write papers a certain way and why students must do worksheets, but I felt that each individual and his or her talents, desires and personality got lost when all students were required to do everything the same way, required to take the same classes. I guess I didn't like the robotic, mechanical feeling of having to learn a specific way; I like to think of gaining knowledge as a highly personal matter, where people are allowed to flow and dance to wherever their hearts take them. Even today, during my AP Government final, we were told: "You can't have your jackets on your chairs. You either have to put it on or keep it under your chair." and "Don't take your stuff out from under your chair until all the packets are picked up." Why does everything need to be so rigid? I'm sure they have some "good" reason from some idiot doing something really stupid, but it really made me wonder why so many school officials feel the need to micromanage every little thing, consequently causing people to not be able to live for themselves and, often times, killing people's imagination. I put my jacket on anyway. I didn't care that all the packets hadn't been picked up yet. I know it may seem like a stretch, saying that I feel constrained from people telling me to "put my jacket under that chair", but it's just one of the many examples where I feel like school, to put it generally, was constraining me in the most unnecessary manner. So yes, I'm excited to not have to be micromanaged for six hours of the day anymore and to live for myself a little more.

However, on a lighter, more appreciative note, there have been many things about school, both good and bad, that have made me a better person. Just thinking about it now, I'm amazed at the goodness of many of my teachers who have spent extra time after school to work with me or to write letters of recommendation when they really didn't need to. I'm really thankful to everyone who has helped me grow and did it without thought for themselves.