Another Pin In The Map

               The Roman Colosseum. Statue of David. The Sistine Chapel. The Dome of Florence. The Trevi Fountain. We see all of these things in movies, but we don't actually think about what they're like in real life. To quote my favorite movie of all time: "So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling." (Good Will Hunting). This is a fantastic quote. Though for some reason, I don't think I really understood it until I made this vacation.
              You can study something your entire life. Read books covering every aspect. Look up pictures or videos online giving exact views. But seeing and experiencing are two very different things. We've all seen the Lizzie Maguire Movie right? (Who hasn't?!) You see the Trevi Fountain, Hilary Duff throws her coin in and finds love, blah, blah blah. But when I was walking in Rome, knowing that I was headed towards the great fountain that I had seen before in movies and pictures, I had no idea what was to come. I turned a corner, and there it was, like nothing I had ever seen before. The rushing of the water, enormous crowds trying to get a perfect picture. The size and beauty felt almost unreal.
             To be in the entrance of the Colosseum where gladiators risked their lives against a lion. Thousands of years of history. I had studied the structure to no end through out social studies classes, but to be there was something completely different and indescribable. I feel so incredibly lucky that my parents put such a value upon travel and seeing the world for what it really is instead of just looking up pictures online. I will never forget the brilliant white of David's marble structure. The feel of the walls I held on which I held on for dear life in climbing the bell tower in Florence. The guy peeing outside the Vatican Walls. The smell of the Sistine Chapel. Memories not able to be reproduced by any book or article.

Rub A Dub Dub!

            I'm baaaaaaack! (in creepy horror movie tone of voice). I'm sure my ever-so devoted readers were so disappointed by my lack of writing for the past eleven days or so - yes, all two of you. If you were wondering my vacation was absolutely and incredibly...well incredible. Within just that ten days of sightseeing, I feel like a saw and experienced so much. Thinking back, it feels like I could have been gone over a month. I would like to explain in greater detail the wonder that was this vacation; but I have been awake four the past twenty four hours straight, more than ten of those hours were spent on an airplane...so as you may imagine...I'm a little exhausted. Especially not looking forward to getting up at six for school in the morning.
           So instead of droning on about Spain and Italy, instead I'm going to drone on about one of my favorite things in the world. Showers. Such a simple concept; a thing just meant for cleaning oneself to me is just so much more. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think of showers as kind of a reset button. The comfort of the warm water is not only capable of just washing away dirt and filth. If you allow it to, it can wash away anything. If I felt gross from running around in the hot sun all day, or if I was on an airplane all day next to a guy who kept sneezing into his hands, or if I had an awful day...a shower resets it all. Say you're playing a video game. You're walking around as Mario, trying with all of your might to save Princess Peach, and Bowser kills you. Just press the reset button, and it's all gone. You can still save Peach.
           Feeling dirty is - in my opinion - one of the worst feelings in the world. But sweating and being around others' germs isn't the only way to feel unclean. A bad memory can make your skin crawl every time you think about it. I feel that if I shower and let the warm water and soft soap do their jobs I can wash it all away. Press the reset button, and once again I'm clean and ready to start anew.

Spring Break! Time To Rest, Relax, and Get Tan...Oh Wait...I'm Norwegian

             No pain can quite be compared to the pure agony of counting down the seconds of your last class the day before school is temporarily out and spring break begins. At twenty five minutes left in my last class, watching a documentary all about the history of cold (yes, the history of cold) I'm wondering if chemistry will ever end. Fifteen minutes to go. Even my teacher wants to throw her papers in the air and storm out of the classroom. Ten more seconds...nine...eight...seven....six...five...four...three...two...SPRING BREAK!
             When I was younger spring break wasn't as big of a deal. Sometimes we went on fun vacations that I would always look forward to, but other than that, no big deal. Once I got to high school however, mid March brings such extreme fatigue, new sports are starting up again, teachers are piling on the homework, a week long break could be considered a requirement...that is if teachers don't want their students collapsing in class.
             In college it's time to get out the kegs and tanning oil, because spring break is a time to party (or so I've heard). A week full of sleepless out of control nights, and days of sleeping off the residual exhaustion from school and a bad hangover.
             No matter the age or where in the world you go, kids need a break from school before facing the last few months of school before the real break begins. Unfortunately, I will be unable to write for the next several days, seeing as I will be making a trek from here in Chicago all the way to Spain, through France, and to Italy. I don't believe I'll have access to the internet, but if I do in a certain hotel, I may try to sneak in a quick blog post. But if I am unable, I will write when I come back!
              I'm hoping that ahead of me lies an adventure. I don't know what to expect from this vacation. But it will certainly be interesting...especially seeing that no one in my family even remotely speaks Spanish or Italian...but that's where the adventure part comes in, right? Regardless, I promise to return with plenty of stories to tell and pictures to show. Adios!

They're Called The Magic Words

            "Can you pass the salt?"
            "What?"
            "Can you pass the salt?"
            "I'm sorry, I can't hear you...."
            "May I please have the salt when it is convenient."
             "Of course, since you asked like such a polite young lady."
            That conversation pretty much sums up my childhood. My parents' goal was to breed my older sister and I to be the most polite children...ever. Now I can't help reciting those lines whenever I have any request. I even take after my parents. If a friend asks if they "can" do something, I'll reply with: "I'm sure you can..." until they say "may I..." I can't tell if this is a blessing or a curse. But something that comes with this drippingly polite demeanor, comes a pet peeve.
             If ever someone is impolite--especially to service people or teachers--it really gets under my skin. So many workers in today's society are so completely under appreciated. While we like to think that the people we're rude to don't really matter since we probably won't ever see them again, we don't realize how much we may actually be hurting them with harsh words. All it takes is a smile to brighten a worker's day. Be polite, use those magic words Barney taught in his show: "please and thank you, they're called the magic words."
             I know it just kills me if I help someone--I'm not talking about holding a door open or picking up a dropped pencil--I mean really put time and effort into helping someone, and they say absolutely nothing. No "thank you", no "wow, that was really great of you", not even a smile. It takes almost no effort just to show your real appreciation for what someone does for you. If someone asks me for help, I will almost always give it to the best of my abilities. But to have that person just turn the other cheek without so much as a "thank you" after they've used me for homework help, or advice, whatever it is...I can't help but feel underappreciated and used.
              Make someone's day and make a goal to be polite. Say something nice, you have no idea how far a simple "thank you", or "it's really nice of you to help me" can go. Even if it's to someone you may consider "below you", everyone wants to feel needed and appreciated.
              Thank you. Merci. Gracias. Takk. Domo. Doesn't matter the language. Just say it.

Social Networking? Now It's Social Exploitation

            Debating topics. Something I will never say no to. I'm an opinionated person, and if someone doesn't agree with one of my beliefs, I will respectfully debate the topic with them. It's fun for me. Not in a trying to convert your beliefs way, but just in getting the other side of the story from someone else. Debating is always an interesting way to figure out why someone believes what they do. For speech class, I was assigned a "perception project". The goal: to ask several people the same controversial question, and compare everyone's answers, describing what makes them believe what they do. Maybe it has to do with their age, race, or background. Regardless, an interesting project.
             Today we began presenting our findings in these mini-field studies. One person brought up what I believe to be a particularly interesting topic for teenagers. Social Networking Sites--Facebook in particular. In todays day of age, not only are sites like Facebook used to stay connected with faraway relatives or try and learn as much as you can about the one you have a crush on. Now colleges and even employers are using Facebook to check out potential students or employees. If these administrators see incriminating comments or racy pictures, it may jeopardize your future.
              The even more debated part of this topic is that now high school administrators are checking out student Facebooks, looking for anything that may break school code. If coaches, councilors, or deans see pictures even suggesting the consumption of alcohol or illegal drugs, they have grounds to punish. Severely. I know people who have been kicked off of their sports teams because of one simple picture of them with a beer in their hands at a party.
              Personally, I wouldn't care at all if a university or work place were to look at my Facebook. While the fact that going on a trip to Disney World with my family is pretty racy, I put pictures of that vacation up for the world to see. No one forced me to. If I'm comfortable with the rest of the world seeing what I post, that I have to be sure that I'm alright with colleges seeing that too.
              My message is: if you're going to drink, party, and be stupid in high school, fine, it's your life--it's still idiotic--but you can do what you want if you understand the risks. But my suggestion is that you should keep at least part of your life private. Facebook doesn't need to see that you had a wild night of drinking, I don't care how perfect your fake tan looks in the picture, that great profile picture will not be worth it when you get kicked off of your sports team, rejected from your dream school, or passed up for the job you've earned.

Oh The Places You'll Go

               "Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. Oh! The places you'll go!" - Dr. Seuss (Oh, The Places You'll Go) Dr. Seuss was a genius. He saw things that others didn't. He wasn't afraid to be regarded as a loon. His books are so elaborate with metaphors and morals...yet somehow simple enough that you understand them best when you're a child. That I think is magic in itself. As Le Petit Prince says, sometimes adults just don't understand what's crystal clear to children. Somewhere along the way we lose that part of our imagination.
              This weekend was one of the most stressful in a while. Full of frantically looking for new vacation destinations. Places we could find available airline seats to. Vacant hotels. Transportation once we got there. It was a lot to put together. But in looking through all of the hundreds of possibilities, I can't help but marvel at how much there really is in the world. From the pyramids in Egypt to the mountains of Switzerland. The Eiffel Tower to the Australian Opera House. I've traveled quite a bit in my lifetime, but there's still just so much to see.
               The fantastic thing about traveling though is that the best things happen when you absolutely least expect it. Last year for spring break, we were hoping to go to New Mexico, Colorado, Oklahoma, Kansas, all of those states over there just to get them knocked out and say we'd been there. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the trip, but it ended up being one of the best we'd ever taken. Mostly because we had no idea what to expect. I'm sure if there had been no earthquake and we went to Japan, it would have been great. Lots to see and do. But I knew what I was headed towards. 
               Our last forty eight hours of searching, planning, booking, cancelling, rebooking, uncertainty have been insane. Three days ago I was certain I would be in Japan next week. It was crushed. Now my amazing parents have managed to put together a seriously fantastic-sounding vacation along the French Riviera on five days notice. I have no idea what to expect from this trip. It will be new to everyone in my family. I'm sure there will be bumps along the road. Like Dr. Seuss said, the journey may be hard, our arms may get sore and our sneakers may leak....but Oh....The Places We Will Go.

Here? There? Everywhere?!

         Possibly my biggest fault: impatience. I am quite possibly one of the most impatient people ever. If I see something I want or if an opportunity comes my way, I waste no time in taking it. I will do everything in my power to get it. If you read my last post, you know that my Spring Break plans pretty much crashed and burned with the destructive earthquake and leaking radiation in Japan. While fearing aftershocks and facing the possibility of contracting cancer from the radiation does sound like a swell spring break...my family has decided to pass on Japan for the moment.
         Since our decision has been made about Japan, we have been forced to move on. Unfortunately, doing so is easier said than done. Japan wasn't just a vacation destination to my family. This is my sister's last year before going to college. Going to Japan has been her dream for years. This was our big last harrah as a family. Moving on from our dreams coming true as a family to a big fat question mark is a little difficult.
          In the past thirty six hours, there have been a lot of tears. Some ignorant hope. Those hopes being crushed over and over by the never ending stream of bad news broadcast for the world to see. Now we have to move on to what to do about that big question mark. If there's one thing for sure about my family is that we absolutely never give up. This is the moment where I would like to profess the absolute wonder that is my parents. They will literally stop at nothing to find something near measuring up to Tokyo for spring break.
          Life comes at you fast. Things are never for sure until they actually happen. We've had to learn to stop trying to cling on to our hopes of the original vacation plan and move on to what to do next. A trip to Paris to see the sights? A driving trip along the French Riviera? Maybe my grandma's condo in Florida? Who knows? In a way, while I want to pull my hair out not knowing which country I'll be sleeping in six days from now, that's kind of the fun part. I have no idea what's going to happen. But it'll work out. Somehow, it always does.
          Mom. Dad. Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate what you're doing for me.
          But if France has an earthquake too...mother nature is receiving a strongly worded message from me. This entry had almost no point, but seeing as this has been some of the most stressful thirty six hours of my life (or at least this year), please forgive my ramblings. I digress.

Luck Of The Irish? More Like The Japanese

           Mid March. It's that time where four leaved clovers are popping up all over and people are shoving luck of the Irish at you left and right. Well at the moment, I have another place they can shove that. Forgive me, the Irish are lovely, but their luck needs some work. I'm not exactly in the best mood at the moment. As most probably can relate to, Spring Break is coming up. For me, our well anticipated break is to start a week from today.
           As my sister's last year before graduating from high school and going off to college, we wanted to let her choose our destination for spring break. Naturally, she chose Japan, seeing as she's been enthralled with Japanese culture since before middle school. So we began to plan months ago. The plane tickets were booked. Hotels reserved. Plans for Tokyo Disneyland nailed down. We were beginning the countdown. I get in the car this morning on the way to school, and my sister turns to me and says "Wow, I hope Japan will still work out." At that moment, I knew we weren't going to Japan anymore, I just knew.
           She informed me that the most violent earthquake in Japanese recorded history hit 250 miles outside Tokyo several hours ago. Aftershocks were to be expected, and damage was massive. Throughout the day teachers brought up the thought of catastrophic tidal waves sweeping away buildings. I kept telling myself that in a week this would all blow over. Our vacation will be fine.
           Tokyo Airports: Closed.
           Tokyo Roads: Closed
           Tokyo Trains: Closed
           Tokyo Nuclear Power Plants: Leaking
           Aftershocks: To Be Expected For The Next Two Weeks
           fml
           Though of course every time I begin feeling sorry for myself, I think about the families who lost loved ones in this catastrophe, and I can't help thanking my lucky stars that I wasn't there when it actually happened. I'm not one of the hundreds of tourists in Japan just praying to go home. Then I think about how of all of the times for this enormous earthquake to occur, it happens the one time I have an opportunity to go there. I can't decide whether to consider myself unlucky for having my vacation ruined or lucky that my spring break wasn't a week earlier.
            My deep and utter respects to those who perished in this awful incident and their families.

When You're A Kid You Start With A, B, C

         "Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. When you read you begin with A, B, C. When you sing you begin with Do-Re-Mi." I quote the genius that is The Sound of Music because of the pure simplicity and innocence of it. Well...maybe not the part where the Nazi's invaded Austria and wanted to kill the VonTrapp's...but we can overlook that. Regardless, this song is the absolute embodiment of innocence. I can't tell you how many times just this week I have longed for the days when the only significance of A, B, C were letters of the alphabet. A way to make your way to the beginning.
          Today if I hear A, B, C, D, or F, all I can think of are the smudges that turn up on my transcript four times a year. Those indicators of how much we're worth in school. The indicator of what college you'll have a chance of getting in to. The ultimate indicator of your future. There's this enormous pressure to get good grades in today's day in age--especially with all the competition today. All the while, we have assemblies encouraging us about how "grades aren't everything". It seems a little contradictory if you ask me.
           When I was younger grades came easily. I worked well, did what the teacher asked, and got all A's. There was no cramming for exams. No hours of homework a night. I had time for myself in which I could waste hours filling my mind with Spongebob Squarepants's laughter. I could sit down and read a good book. On days like today I'm lucky to fit in a half hour sitcom with my family and writing this blog before I go to bed. Now when I get home from school and all I want to do is have a snack, watch some TV, and just relax for a little bit, all that goes through my head is "you have a math test that's worth 25% of your grade, a French test you're unprepared for, a French group project, and an undone Chemistry lab due tomorrow, and you're relaxing?! Get to work!"
             Watch out tomorrow at school. I'm a little afraid my mind is going to spontaneously combust one of these days. I keep piling on Speeches to make, U.S. presidents to memorize, French verb tenses to conjugate, equations to work out, what happens when you light which gases on fire, all while trying not to get hit with a dodge ball. Eventually, stuff is going to start spilling out.

Get Out The Beads: It's Mardi Gras!

      Oh Mardi Gras, how I love this holiday. For those of you who took Spanish, Latin, or anything other than French in high school, Mardi Gras translated to English means "Fat Tuesday". This is a holiday to celebrate the day before Ash Wednesday. That day Catholics around the world dread to no end, seeing that Ash Wednesday is the day that they must give up an item/habit/etc. that they will miss not having/using until Easter. I'm not sure exactly the point of this religious exercise, but oh well. Since what most Catholics end up giving up are things like sugar or junk food, Fat Tuesday is a day to shove as much of what you'll be giving up down your throat before you have to give it up for--in this year's case--well over a month.
      I am pretty much as opposite of religious as you can get, I grew up in a religiously neutral family, and I have decided for myself that I am agnostic. If you don't know what agnostic means: I interpret it as a religion of being unsure. There may be a god and a heaven. Maybe not. No human can possibly know. My religious motto is: "I dunno" with a casual shrug. One of the perks: not having to give anything up for Lent, but still getting to party on Mardi Gras.
      I have loved Mardi Gras ever since my sixth grade French teacher explained that it's basically a day of craziness if you're in places of specific French culture. These places include--of course--France, parts of Canada, (my sister informed me that Italy practices Mardi Gras as well, but called Carnivale), and the big one: New Orleans. On my bucket list is to be in New Orleans for Mardi Gras at least once. I've seen videos in French class, I've heard all about it: it's craziness! Huge parades, everyone screaming or eating, some doing both at the same time. Purple, gold, and green are everywhere you look. Masks and beads. Women will flash a parade float if they want the classic Mardi Gras beads thrown down to them.
       Most may see this holiday as a religious holiday ready to ring in yet another religious holiday. But if you look up some videos of what Mardi Gras really consists of down in New Orleans...I'm not sure there's much holy activity going on. So what it is to me is really just a time to appreciate being alive and how wonderful it is to have a time to let loose and be crazy. When I'm older I am going to New Orleans during Mardi Gras, getting a mask, and eating beignets to my heart's content.

Secrets Secrets Are No Fun Unless They Are For Everyone

       I have come to realize that no matter how well I know a person, I will never know all of their secrets. Whether these secrets are minor things like an embarrassing irrational fear or something as big as the important details from someone's past. I'll never know everything about anyone's life. I'll never even know everything about my own life. I'm hard enough to figure out, figuring out a mind of which I can't control or read is much more difficult that I wish it was sometimes.
      I consider myself very close with both of my parents. I talk to them about everything. The only problem is: I feel like they tell me nothing about their own pasts. Sometimes I wish they would give me the entire spiel like Ted Mosby does in the TV show How I Met Your Mother. Every once in a while they will let something about their past slip out as if the fact that my dad got his first job by turning in his resume printed on a cake is nothing. Like I wouldn't be interested in knowing where my parents met or about their previous relationships before they met each other.
      In case you didn't notice from my incessant ramblings on this blog, I'm one who likes to talk. I am a pro at carrying on one sided conversations for hours if need there be. So my best friend is naturally someone who also loves to talk. She and I can literally not stop talking to each other because there are just so many things to say. So you would think that after three years of being friends and countless three hour phone conversations, we would pretty much know everything about each other. No way. I will never stop being shocked each time I learn something big I didn't know about her.
      Sometimes these hidden pieces of information are hidden for a reason. Sometimes it's intentionally kept from being divulged. Sometimes--in my parents' case--these tidbits of information are just simply forgotten, or not deemed important enough to bring up into conversation. Regardless, everyone has their secrets. Never will you be able to know all of them. But I find that every time I discover a new secret about anybody I try to appreciate the fact that they chose to share this thing that was important enough to keep from the rest of the world with me. People say secrets are no fun unless they are for everyone. I think they're no fun if they're for everyone...that just means that there would be nothing more to find out about another person. And where's the fun if you already know everything?

Together We Can Do Anything...But Alone I Can Do It Better

         One of the possibly worst inevitabilities of high school life is the feat of working with your comrades to complete a project for a grade of which all members of the group share. If a teacher gives out a new project to do, and says that groups are optional, I do all in my power to do the project by myself. It always just works out better that way. I prefer to depend on myself than to depend on others to maintain my grade point average. The worst possible situation however is when a teacher puts you into groups that are "randomly selected". I swear, that random group generator is out to get me.
         I'm one of those people that if no one else takes charge within a group, I'll step up and make sure that everything gets done. Unfortunately, if I'm in a group with inefficient members, I get impatient. That's one of my worst faults...I'm impatient. Especially when it comes to school work. I was a slacker all through middle school. But then when classes actually got hard, I stepped it up, and now I can't help but want to get my school work done as soon as I possibly can. Putting it off just means that I'll be frantically doing it at the last minute.
        So now as I sit on Sunday night, waiting for two out of four group members to send me their parts of the project, you can imagine that I'm getting a little antsy about the project that has to be in the hands of my teacher tomorrow morning. It's natural for most students to put off their school work all weekend until Sunday night. But seeing as I was the one who volunteered to take everyone's pieces of the project and put them together into the final product, I'm eagerly awaiting their pieces of the project, seeing as without just one of these pieces, the project is far from complete.
        Teachers throughout my middle and high school career would always lecture about how imperative it was to learn how to work well in a group. Because the further you get in school, the more group projects you'll be stuck with. I've never understood why teachers force us together with a group of other students to finish a task. Do they realize that every group has the exact same people? There's the one who goes with the flow. They won't  take charge, but they'll do what they're asked. There's the slacker who depends completely on the rest of the group. They will usually lead the conversation on the day it's due with "that was due today?" And then there's the person like me who cares most about their grade, so they take charge of the group and picks up the slack if need be.
       I'm not trying to say that my work is better than anyone else's, not at all. I just get nervous when one group member has the capability to ruin the the grade of the entire group. Make work a little harder for the slackers of the world, don't force group projects upon your students.

Get Out The Frosting: It's Time For A Sleepover

         To my devoted readers (all two of you): I apologize profusely for breaking my streak and not writing an entry yesterday. I ended up being extremely busy starting the day off with school, then hanging out with friends, eating delicious food, and the most cliche (which by the way is the best kind) girl talk, you wouldn't even believe it. We then proceeded to watch the most cliche chick flick movie--The Notebook. So basically the classic girl sleepover.
         We all like to think that we stick out from the crowd. We don't do that cliche stuff that looks stupid in movies and sounds fake in books. Well I don't know about you, but pretty much every sleepover I host is a fantastic ball of exactly what a girl is supposed to do on a sleepover. This being: eat exorbitant amounts of food (hopefully involving some sort of frosting item). Check. Do each other's makeup/hair. Check. Talk about all of the stuff that is always preceded by: "nothing we say here leaves this basement". Check. And watching a super romantic chick flick. Check. Although that last item is easily replaced with a musical that is so incredibly bad...that it's actually good. (Example: From Justin To Kelly).
         We like to say that we're not those stupid girls who sit together and talk about our feelings for hours at a time. We don't want to be those girls that we all see in the movies and say: "okay, that never actually happens in real life." But guess what...I'm proud to say that I look forward to an upcoming sleepover because that means that I'll spend the night with some of the people I love most in the world. Being stupid, eating a lot, and crying together when Allie and Noah couldn't be together. It's okay if it's cliche. I'm a girl, and I enjoy getting my hair and makeup done. I enjoy hearing my friends' secrets, and sharing mine with them.
          To all girls out there: don't think that being a classic girl is lame or stupid because you laughed at it in a movie once. When I was little, my grandma would tell me all about how every weekend my mom would turn on the radio, close the kitchen doors, and make cookies with her best friend. These are the things that girls do. I think that a healthy dose of girl talk when combined with frosting has the power to do just about anything.

My Past But Not My History

         I have just come out of my three hour studying binge. That's the lovely thing about having two ridiculously hard tests on the same day. I was thinking I wouldn't post because it's late and I have to get up for school in less than eight hours, but I've written every day so far...I couldn't break my streak. So I'll make this quick...-ish.
         I am more excited for tomorrow than I have been in a while. First off, my school's marching band (which I am a part of in case you're new to reading this blog), is putting on a sidewinder tomorrow morning. A sidewinder occurs when a school team gets either first or second place in a state tournament. When this happens, the band plays their instruments while walking through the halls of the school. Unlike most, I am a huge fan of sidewinders, so that already puts a good twist to my morning.
         The bigger reason of why I'm so excited: I'm getting a visitor. My very best friend: someone I pretty much considered a sister, moved halfway across the country back in September. Since she moved, she visited for about a week in November, but since then, I haven't seen her. So you can imagine how ecstatic I am to be able to see my best friend again!
         When she moved away, people kept asking me if we would still keep in contact , and I couldn't help saying "of course!". And people just seemed skeptical that we would really keep a friendship going from across the country. But that brings me to the title of my blog. When she moved away, I was forced to move on. When I needed someone to go with me to a school event, or to help me pick out a dress, I couldn't just call her up anymore. So she was forced to become a thing of my past...but definitely not my history. I was amazed how some of her other friends completely lost touch with her when she moved away.
          So my advice to you, is if you have a friend move away--even if it's not your very best friend--keep in touch. It's especially important in the beginning. The friend who moved away is in a new place with no friends...they need to know that they still have the support of the people who loved them. Don't give up on a friendship...no matter what, you'll regret it.

All I Want For Christmas Is...Inspiration?

       The game is high school and the enemy is depression. That may sound a little skewed since high school is supposed to be the best years of our lives as the youth of the world. But every issue of our school newspaper (which comes out monthly), has a featured article about depression. Although this may sound like a little bit of overkill, it's understandable considering the steady stream of tragic suicides that have occurred within our school district. Almost all committed by jumping in front of a train. When we had three high schoolers commit suicide in one school year, apparently the school district thought it was time to do something.
       An organization was started within the school that was supposed to battle depression through spirited events in which students could let loose and just have fun. In my opinion, I'm not quite sure what hiring Smash Mouth to play at a pep rally will do to stop kids with serious psychological issues stop themselves from taking their own lives...but hey, Smash Mouth was fun. Also to help high schoolers combat depression and stress, our school has begun hiring an inspirational speaker to take an hour and a half our of our school day to "inspire" us to be all we can be.
       I'm just a sophomore, so I've only seen one of these inspirational speeches. But the one I saw last year...well it hasn't made me excited for sitting through another one. It was a man talking to us about how life was a mountain, and in order to get over the mountain, we need hard work and support from our friends, family, and most importantly ourselves. Then he turned the tables and said life was actually a tupperware box, and we had to separate it into compartments. I know, pretty exciting stuff. However, I've heard that the speaker this year is a guy that spoke at our school three years ago, and my sister who saw him before said he was fantastic. She said she actually left the assembly feeling good, happy, and well...inspired.
       For the first time, I think I'm actually excited for an inspirational speaker...as I mentioned in my first post, I cannot successfully complete a photo shoot if I'm not inspired. So a little motivating boost couldn't hurt. Plus, I've heard that the speech includes something about crayons...and well....who doesn't love crayons?

Zzzz....Wait What?

        Exhaustion. This is possibly the one inescapable thing for teenagers in high school. While lack of sleep tends to be what most blame this demon on, I have found that sleeping is not the only thing that cures my drooping eyelids. Studies done by Mayo Clinic show that school age children (this including the high school age group) need ten to eleven hours of sleep every night. But if you take a survey of how many hours of sleep everyone gets a night in my high school, the average wouldn't be anywhere near ten to eleven hours. Me, I consider myself lucky if I get anywhere near eight hours of sleep on a school night.
        When I trudge sleepily into my first class of the day, I hear "I am so tired" or the same sentiment from at least four different people in just the first class period. And I have to admit that I catch myself complaining of the same thing to my friends on several occasions. For the most part, I will be so exhausted I feel like I won't be able to function for the first hour and a half or so after I wake up. After that dreary period of time, I find myself waking up and feeling more capable to face the day ahead of me.
        On days like I had today in which I only got around six hours of sleep the night before with a long and boring day of school, I get home and all I want to do is take a nap. But of course there's homework to do and tests to study for. So instead of catching up on some sleep or doing homework, I just spend my time doing nothing and thinking about my day. While doing this, I realize that I wasn't this exhausted all day. Sure I was tired when I first woke up, but first hour we played games the entire class, and I was wide awake. Then for the next few classes I felt myself drifting into a dream like state for a few minutes. In my sixth hour math class, my teacher said something that made the entire class erupt in laughter. I felt bright and awake for the rest of the class.
       I think that I have found that sleep is not the only thing that is directly related to how tired you are. I don't know if this applies to everyone, but to me, it seems that if something fun, exciting, or slightly different happens, it flows through my like adrenaline, and it works as a boost of energy. ...then I burn through that energy again (how fast depending on how sleep deprived I am), and then I need something new to happen.
       My point is that if during these last few months of school that seem to be the absolute most tiring, if teachers would take the extra minute or two to do something fun or interesting at the beginning of class, they may see a little more energy from their exhausted students. My suggestion: maybe play some music while students are filing into the classroom. Music is what I turn to when I need to change my mood or indulge my current mood. A good song has more power than one may think...but my thoughts on that are for another blog entry in the future. Maybe it's just me...but I know that when the school played "Dancing Queen" by Abba throughout the whole school, the energy in my U.S. History classroom couldn't be contained.

       So to all of those teachers out there...consider it. Wake up your students so they don't feel like I do in the picture above which I titled "School Daze".