Fads. They come in to style almost as quickly as they go out of style. These fads range from fashion, to electronics, to slang phrases, even just ideas. Some can be personal short-lived obsessions, others can be a global trend. Regardless, we all get caught up in the next big and best thing. Here is my list of current strange addictions. I cannot pinpoint the exact reason I absolutely adore these things, I just do. I cannot explain why I am simply unable to live without these things at the moment, I just can't.
1. Instagram and Snapchat
Seriously. They're addicting. Like...ever tried crystal meth? If yes, then you know what I'm talking about.
2. The phrase "long hair, don't care"
All of a sudden, I just can't seem to stop saying it. It applies to just about everything that happens in my
life.
>My Friend: "I'm slightly considering staying up all night to relive my childhood by watching the Rugrats
marathon..."
Me: "DO IT! Long hair, don't care."
>American Eagle Sales Clerk: "I don't know which sweater it is on the receipt...it's either the crew neck
or the scoop neck. Screw it, I'm going with scoop neck."
Me: "Long hair, don't care."
>My Sister: (as I make a ridiculous face snapchatting a friend) "I've never judged you so much."
Me: "Long hair, don't care."
See? Applies to everything. Relatable to everyone
3. My new frother
Now, when I make tea, I can make the milk all frothy and delicious. I used to drink tea about twice a
day. Because of this frother...it has been increasing exponentially. I think I had five today...?
4. Andes Mints
They.Are.So.Good. Eat them alone? Delish. Get them as your after-meal mint at Olive Garden? Yum.
Bake them into brownies? Have trust in me and just do it. That is an experience that really just cannot be
described. Seriously, put half of your brownie batter in the pan, lay down a layer of Andes Mints, then
the rest of the batter. Just do it.
5. Scarves
I never thought I would be one to pull of scarves. They were a knit garment I wore in the winter time
outside when it was really cold, and that was it. Now? I wear them ALL THE TIME! Have a plain shirt
you wanna dress up a little bit? Throw on a scarf!
6. Henna
To make this story make sense, we must start with the simple fact that my family means everything to me.
So, as you can imagine, it just feels wrong when my older sister is away at college. BUT our tradition has
become that every time she comes home, we buy a box of henna from Michael's, and she just goes to
town on one of our body parts. I don't know if it's the henna, or just the fact that my sister is home, but I
love it.
We all have those fads. They come, they go. Some we look back on fondly, some we look back on and say "what was I thinking?" From Sparkly Uggs to YOLO; from Gangnam Style to mustaches, these trends are everywhere, and not one of us are completely immune to being sucked into the fun at least a little bit. Sometimes you've just gotta say "long hair, don't care".
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Santa's Gift To Our DVR's
This season brings light and happiness to so many multiple facets of our lives. The smell of holly and gingerbread int he air. The merry sleigh bells on street corners collecting for charity. The ever present jolly Christmas tunes reminding us what a lovely time of year it is. But one of my absolute favorite things about this countdown to the big holiday is the made for TV movies that infect every channel from Lifetime to ABC Family.
Sure, there are the classic Christmas movies that we all know and love. Who can resist Tim Allen growing a beard and a belly in The Santa Claus? Whose heart doesn't melt when The Grinch returns all of the presents to Whoville and breaks the heart-o-meter? Who doesn't want to help Buddy the Elf spread Christmas cheer by singing loud for all to hear? However, what I find cinematically magical about this time of year is the sheer amount of under appreciated Christmas movies out there. Are the plots deep and dynamic? No. Are the actors going to win Oscars for their moving performances? Probably not. But, that doesn't change the giddy feeling I get when I spy a new piece of holiday movie magic on my DVR.
Here's the basic plot of any of these movies. Someone is getting a little blue because something in their life is unsatisfactory around the holidays. But then amidst the lights and magic of Christmas, they meet someone who changes everything. Suddenly, the main character feels the merriment of December. They want to ice skate, and drink hot chocolate, and see Santa. Somehow a kid gets involved who thinks Santa's magic can cure anything. But, uh-oh, a problem arises. There's conflict. Suddenly, it's looking like it's going to be a blue blue Christmas. Right when the main character is losing faith in everything about this cursed time of year, Christmas cheer pulls through and they're swept off their feet in the snow. They fall in love and live happily ever after. The End.
The sap in these movies is so potent, I feel like I can almost taste it. Want to see for yourself? Here are some of my personal favorites...
1. The 12 Dates of Christmas
^seriously, that one is awesome, if you watch just one, make it this one
2. Holiday in Handcuffs
3. Dear Santa
4. Holly's Holiday
5. The Mistletones
^I haven't actually seen this one yet, but I'm so excited to!
Sure, there are the classic Christmas movies that we all know and love. Who can resist Tim Allen growing a beard and a belly in The Santa Claus? Whose heart doesn't melt when The Grinch returns all of the presents to Whoville and breaks the heart-o-meter? Who doesn't want to help Buddy the Elf spread Christmas cheer by singing loud for all to hear? However, what I find cinematically magical about this time of year is the sheer amount of under appreciated Christmas movies out there. Are the plots deep and dynamic? No. Are the actors going to win Oscars for their moving performances? Probably not. But, that doesn't change the giddy feeling I get when I spy a new piece of holiday movie magic on my DVR.
Here's the basic plot of any of these movies. Someone is getting a little blue because something in their life is unsatisfactory around the holidays. But then amidst the lights and magic of Christmas, they meet someone who changes everything. Suddenly, the main character feels the merriment of December. They want to ice skate, and drink hot chocolate, and see Santa. Somehow a kid gets involved who thinks Santa's magic can cure anything. But, uh-oh, a problem arises. There's conflict. Suddenly, it's looking like it's going to be a blue blue Christmas. Right when the main character is losing faith in everything about this cursed time of year, Christmas cheer pulls through and they're swept off their feet in the snow. They fall in love and live happily ever after. The End.
The sap in these movies is so potent, I feel like I can almost taste it. Want to see for yourself? Here are some of my personal favorites...
1. The 12 Dates of Christmas
^seriously, that one is awesome, if you watch just one, make it this one
2. Holiday in Handcuffs
3. Dear Santa
4. Holly's Holiday
5. The Mistletones
^I haven't actually seen this one yet, but I'm so excited to!
Friday, December 7, 2012
Pretty Little Liar
We all lie. There is not one person out there who has not done or said something at least slightly dishonest. These instances of mistruth can be good intentioned white lies to spare someone's feelings, or they can span to malicious deceit. Sometimes we lie when we think we have no other option. However, if my parents have taught me anything in the last seventeen years, it's that there is no such thing as a secret.
Everyone finds out everything eventually. It's a humbling yet inconvenient fact of life. This lesson has been proven to me time and time again, and each time, I feel a little stupider. That moment that you know your'e caught in a lie and there's no going back, that's the moment, I've learned, you must just come clean about everything. There's no point in continuing to try to cover it up or hide what you've done. While coming clean and facing the truth will be awful and painful, and may be embarrassing, it'll only be worse if you don't confess.
However, I do find a silver lining of comfort later, when I'm reflecting on the situation and I have that moment that I realize my regret. I realize that the regret comes whether I get caught or not, because while lying may seem right and important in the moment, it just ends up internally torturing me later. That torture, my relentless conscience, that's what reminds me that, even though I've done something bad that I can't take back, and I'll have to face the consequences, I am still a good person.
I am a good person who will learn from my mistakes. Though I know for a fact that I will continue to make errors in judgement and do things I will regret, I just hope that my past mistakes protect me from committing the same stupidity twice and to enhance my judgement with each regretful act of idiocy.
We all lie, we all do stupid things, and we will all have regrets. But tomorrow, you'll think about it a little less, and the next day a little less, then less, and less. Then a few months later, an enticing opportunity to be reckless or dishonest will present itself, and while it might look like the more attractive or easier option, you'll remind yourself. Everyone finds out everything eventually. And you'll ask yourself...is this worth it? For there are no secrets.
Everyone finds out everything eventually. It's a humbling yet inconvenient fact of life. This lesson has been proven to me time and time again, and each time, I feel a little stupider. That moment that you know your'e caught in a lie and there's no going back, that's the moment, I've learned, you must just come clean about everything. There's no point in continuing to try to cover it up or hide what you've done. While coming clean and facing the truth will be awful and painful, and may be embarrassing, it'll only be worse if you don't confess.
However, I do find a silver lining of comfort later, when I'm reflecting on the situation and I have that moment that I realize my regret. I realize that the regret comes whether I get caught or not, because while lying may seem right and important in the moment, it just ends up internally torturing me later. That torture, my relentless conscience, that's what reminds me that, even though I've done something bad that I can't take back, and I'll have to face the consequences, I am still a good person.
I am a good person who will learn from my mistakes. Though I know for a fact that I will continue to make errors in judgement and do things I will regret, I just hope that my past mistakes protect me from committing the same stupidity twice and to enhance my judgement with each regretful act of idiocy.
We all lie, we all do stupid things, and we will all have regrets. But tomorrow, you'll think about it a little less, and the next day a little less, then less, and less. Then a few months later, an enticing opportunity to be reckless or dishonest will present itself, and while it might look like the more attractive or easier option, you'll remind yourself. Everyone finds out everything eventually. And you'll ask yourself...is this worth it? For there are no secrets.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Dear Santa
Dear Santa,
I can't believe this is it. My last year writing you as a child. My last time writing you from under my parent's roof. This is why I write you this letter. Is it okay if I still want to believe in you? Is it okay that I don't want this to be my last letter I ever write to the jolly man in a red suit who will slither down my chimney on Christmas Eve? Over the last year, I have been forced to do a lot of growing up. In the past, there was always someone there who could ultimately tell me the right answer, even if I guessed wrong. Now, I am facing decisions that are mine and mine alone, and no one out there has the definitive answer. No one is there to hold my hand and tell me what to do.
As I face adulthood, and the difficult decisions I have ahead of me, is it okay if I still let sugarplum fairies perform a delicate ballet across my dreams? Is it okay for me to fantasize about what your elves are cooking up for me in your workshop? Is it okay if I jump every time I hear a clatter on Christmas Eve, because I know for sure that it's Rudolph landing on my roof? Is it okay that I still leave you cookies and milk to aid your tiring journey across the world?
Santa, all I want for Christmas is to never stop believing. I want to always have a conviction that there is a certain magic that the holiday season brings upon us all. I never want to give up on the notion that singing the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas will put a smile on anyone's face. I never want to stop believing in all of the good in the world. Even when we're forced to face so much bad at some times, I never want to stop believing in the fantasy, the excitement, the giddyness, and the pure absolute magic of Christmas. It's a time when friends feel a little friendlier, and families become a little closer, and the streets become a little brighter, and our hears become a little warmer. Next year, I may no longer be a child, but please, never let me stop believing.
Love,
Hanna
I can't believe this is it. My last year writing you as a child. My last time writing you from under my parent's roof. This is why I write you this letter. Is it okay if I still want to believe in you? Is it okay that I don't want this to be my last letter I ever write to the jolly man in a red suit who will slither down my chimney on Christmas Eve? Over the last year, I have been forced to do a lot of growing up. In the past, there was always someone there who could ultimately tell me the right answer, even if I guessed wrong. Now, I am facing decisions that are mine and mine alone, and no one out there has the definitive answer. No one is there to hold my hand and tell me what to do.
As I face adulthood, and the difficult decisions I have ahead of me, is it okay if I still let sugarplum fairies perform a delicate ballet across my dreams? Is it okay for me to fantasize about what your elves are cooking up for me in your workshop? Is it okay if I jump every time I hear a clatter on Christmas Eve, because I know for sure that it's Rudolph landing on my roof? Is it okay that I still leave you cookies and milk to aid your tiring journey across the world?
Santa, all I want for Christmas is to never stop believing. I want to always have a conviction that there is a certain magic that the holiday season brings upon us all. I never want to give up on the notion that singing the tune of The 12 Days of Christmas will put a smile on anyone's face. I never want to stop believing in all of the good in the world. Even when we're forced to face so much bad at some times, I never want to stop believing in the fantasy, the excitement, the giddyness, and the pure absolute magic of Christmas. It's a time when friends feel a little friendlier, and families become a little closer, and the streets become a little brighter, and our hears become a little warmer. Next year, I may no longer be a child, but please, never let me stop believing.
Love,
Hanna
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Crazy Concoctions
I've always been a huge fan of mixing and matching. When it comes to clothes, jewelry, food, and so on, I find great amusement in putting together new and unusual combinations. This comes out particularly when I bake. I can't tell you how much fun I think it is to just throw in some new "secret ingredient" to put a twist on an old classic recipe. Not going to lie, more often, these concoctions honestly end up being disgusting. Or at least not as good as the original. My biggest example: raspberry white chocolate brownies. Sounds good, right? Nope. Not even a little bit. But that's what experimentation is all about. I'll throw some stuff together, take a taste, sometimes I'll cock my head and say "hmm...". Sometimes I'll repress a gag reflex. But the ultimate reason for all of this concocting and combining is for that rare moment when I lift the finished product to my lips, sniff, chew, swallow, and that smile creeps its way along my face. That smile of success; the accomplished smile of knowing that I have discovered something great.
It's hard to realize new combinations that are better than the favorite regulars when it comes to baked goods because they're favorites for a reason. People have passed down the classic recipes for generations because they were the good ones. However, today I had that rare moment. Rapidly browning overly ripe bananas sat atop my kitchen counter, and I had a pantry full of pumpkin. Dilemma. What do I want? Pumpkin bread...banana bread...what to do? SMASH THEM TOGETHER!
I spun the mixer round and round, mushing squishy bananas with creamy pumpkin. A splash of vanilla to bring out the sweet banana flavor, and dashes of Fall spices to intensify the aura of Autumn goodness that is associated with fall. Into the oven the experiment went, and as I eagerly awaited the results, my house grew more and more heavily in fragrance.
The bread is served with dinner, and I slice it with a shaky hand, nervous that I may have just created a great-smelling monstrosity. My family lifts slices to their mouths, and I await with bated breath to hear the taste verdict. It's clear upon their faces: firstly confusion. Is it pumpkin bread? Is it banana bread? Who knows? Then, the smile: who cares? It's different, new, spicy, sweet; it's a success. Nothing can give me more satisfaction.
If I've made you hungry or just plain curious, try it for yourself...
It's hard to realize new combinations that are better than the favorite regulars when it comes to baked goods because they're favorites for a reason. People have passed down the classic recipes for generations because they were the good ones. However, today I had that rare moment. Rapidly browning overly ripe bananas sat atop my kitchen counter, and I had a pantry full of pumpkin. Dilemma. What do I want? Pumpkin bread...banana bread...what to do? SMASH THEM TOGETHER!
I spun the mixer round and round, mushing squishy bananas with creamy pumpkin. A splash of vanilla to bring out the sweet banana flavor, and dashes of Fall spices to intensify the aura of Autumn goodness that is associated with fall. Into the oven the experiment went, and as I eagerly awaited the results, my house grew more and more heavily in fragrance.
The bread is served with dinner, and I slice it with a shaky hand, nervous that I may have just created a great-smelling monstrosity. My family lifts slices to their mouths, and I await with bated breath to hear the taste verdict. It's clear upon their faces: firstly confusion. Is it pumpkin bread? Is it banana bread? Who knows? Then, the smile: who cares? It's different, new, spicy, sweet; it's a success. Nothing can give me more satisfaction.
If I've made you hungry or just plain curious, try it for yourself...
Banana Pumpkin Bread
Ingredients:
2-3 Ripe Bananas +
Slices For Garnish (optional)
2 Eggs
¼ Cup Vegetable Oil
1½ Cups Pumpkin
Puree
½ Cup Brown Sugar
½ Cup Sugar
2½ Cups Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking
Powder
1 Teaspoon Baking
Soda
½ Teaspoon Nutmeg
½ Teaspoon Ginger
½ Teaspoon Allspice
1½ Teaspoons
Cinnamon
1 Teaspoon Vanilla
¾ Cup Raisins
(Optional)
½ Cup Chopped
Walnuts (Optional)
Directions:
1. Squish bananas
until and stir together with eggs, oil, and pumpkin.
2. Add brown sugar,
sugar, flour, baking powder, soda, spices, and vanilla.
3. Fold in raisins
and walnuts.
4. Split dough
evenly into two lightly sprayed 9x5 bread pans.
5. Garnish with
banana slices.
6. Bake at 350° for
40-45 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
The Ink On The Page
I must start this blog with a disclaimer. I am a proud Kindle owner and huge e-reading fan. The whole e-reading industry saves paper, is easier, faster, and the way of the future. However, even though in the last five years or so of owning a Kindle and seldom picking up a hard copy of an actual book, the magic of books is not lost on me. While I adore the feeling of my slim and sleek kindle in my hands, nothing quite compares the feel of a new book.
Whenever I pick up an actual book, a spark is ignited in me. All of the possibilities this novel may hold. The shocking drama, the psychologically thrilling mystery, the tear-jerking romance, it's all contained within this beacon of words. The power language can have over an audience continues to amaze me, and that's where the power and mystique of a book comes from. That irreplaceable smell as you flip through a new book; the author just waiting for you to uncover the secrets and fantasy they've laid out before you. The tangibility of the ink on the page. The feel of the rough pages as they slide through your fingers as if you can't get to the next sentence fast enough. As hard as Amazon may try, none of this can be quite perfectly replicated in the form of an electronic device.
When people ask me if I miss the feel of real books ever since I've switched to e-reading, I tell them no, because it's true. While I miss the feel of pages and the new book smell, I really don't miss the soreness in my wrists after hours of propping up a heavy hardcover. I don't miss having to lug out a booklight if I simply can't put down a book way past dark. E-reading is good, it's a big step in the right direction...it's just the little things that I miss.
As I was sorting through books at my local library for an upcoming book sale today, I couldn't help that twinge of excitement every time I picked up another book that sparked my interest. Browsing the titles, reading the inside covers, feeling the pages: none of this can quite be compared to browsing the Kindle e-book store on Amazon.com. While e-readers hold an ecological and economical intelligence, a huge convenience, and a futuristic attitude, books hold an unparalleled magic.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Beauty and the Not So Beastly
Alright. I have a bone to pick with the world. Lately, it's becoming a bit of a trend to take the classic Disney movies that we all love and cherish and revamp them into these new dramatic spin-offs. There have been two Snow White movies, Alice in Wonderland, the TV show "Once Upon A Time", the list goes on and on. Now don't get me wrong, I am all for the creation of these new and interesting takes on the old classics. However, my problem comes in with the Beauty and the Beast spin-offs.
There was Beastly, now a new show "Beauty and the Beast", and there are rumors of an upcoming Beauty and the Beast movie starring Anne Hathaway. All sounds lovely, right? I mean, who doesn't enjoy watching the brainy but beautiful Belle who feels like an outcast find unexpected love in a castled full of enchanted teapots and cursed princes? WRONG! Neither of the recent takes on the classic movie have done well at all, and I can tell you exactly why. Without fail, they completely mess up the beast!
I realize that in today's world, we're very caught up with appearances, especially in the world of Hollywood. We want to watch movies showcasing flawless faces that we can fantasize about. So, how does Hollywood deal with a story line that calls for the romantic lead to be a beast? They take an extraordinarily handsome actor, cover his flawless face in some rugged tattoos and silvery scars, and call it a day. Newsflash: THIS DOESN'T MAKE THEM UNATTRACTIVE! The best is supposed to be furry and animalistic, with claws and fangs. Making the beast a brooding teenager just makes him seem annoyingly sad...not scary.
A man with weird tattoos and scars could easily assimilate into society, so seeing these so-called "beasts" need to isolate themselves and see themselves as a monstrosity is just plain ridiculous. The animal-like Beast of the Disney version is lovable, and his pain and loneliness are realatable. I have distinct memories from when I was very young of being incredibly disappointed at the end of Beauty and the Beast when the beloved Beast transforms back into the handsome prince. I looked at him and thought: "where's Beast? I don't know this guy."
If Hollywood wants to revamp Disney movies into new action-packed and aesthetically interesting movies, I'm all for it. However, if they want to do it right, they need to get over their phobia of having a creature that is truthfully scary-looking on-screen. The Beast cannot be a man masked with intricate ink and scars, but what he really is: a vicious, misunderstood, hairy, toothy, adorable beast.
There was Beastly, now a new show "Beauty and the Beast", and there are rumors of an upcoming Beauty and the Beast movie starring Anne Hathaway. All sounds lovely, right? I mean, who doesn't enjoy watching the brainy but beautiful Belle who feels like an outcast find unexpected love in a castled full of enchanted teapots and cursed princes? WRONG! Neither of the recent takes on the classic movie have done well at all, and I can tell you exactly why. Without fail, they completely mess up the beast!
I realize that in today's world, we're very caught up with appearances, especially in the world of Hollywood. We want to watch movies showcasing flawless faces that we can fantasize about. So, how does Hollywood deal with a story line that calls for the romantic lead to be a beast? They take an extraordinarily handsome actor, cover his flawless face in some rugged tattoos and silvery scars, and call it a day. Newsflash: THIS DOESN'T MAKE THEM UNATTRACTIVE! The best is supposed to be furry and animalistic, with claws and fangs. Making the beast a brooding teenager just makes him seem annoyingly sad...not scary.
A man with weird tattoos and scars could easily assimilate into society, so seeing these so-called "beasts" need to isolate themselves and see themselves as a monstrosity is just plain ridiculous. The animal-like Beast of the Disney version is lovable, and his pain and loneliness are realatable. I have distinct memories from when I was very young of being incredibly disappointed at the end of Beauty and the Beast when the beloved Beast transforms back into the handsome prince. I looked at him and thought: "where's Beast? I don't know this guy."
If Hollywood wants to revamp Disney movies into new action-packed and aesthetically interesting movies, I'm all for it. However, if they want to do it right, they need to get over their phobia of having a creature that is truthfully scary-looking on-screen. The Beast cannot be a man masked with intricate ink and scars, but what he really is: a vicious, misunderstood, hairy, toothy, adorable beast.
Monday, October 8, 2012
I Dreamed A Dream
Dreams have always been something that has fascinated me. They serve as the most prominent medium through which our subconscious communicates with us. I can go dozens of nights in a row without remembering a single dream, and then I can also go weeks with nightly visits from my subconscious. Everyone dreams; it's just a fact of life. Some nights they can be pleasant, and others they can be terrifying. However, I always feel a twinge of exhilaration at the anticipation of dozing off, in case of what vivid splendors I may delve into.
For the past several years, I have made a conscious effort to write down my dreams right away when I wake up. Often, I'll find that I can wake up from the midst of an captivating story line of my subconscious, I'll lay in bed for another hour thinking about it, certain there's no way I'll forget it after thinking so hard about it. Then, lo and behold, it's gone the moment I sit up. Through writing down my dreams, I've found there are a few different categories to them.
First off, there's the good old fashioned nightmare. For example, when I was very, very young, I had a recurring nightmare of my Mom driving off a bridge into the Fox River, and beneath the bridge there were these trolls. The trolls forced us to do an obstacle course before they would let us go, and my Mom would always fall to her doom into the river while the trolls just laughed. Through the years, these nightmares have branched from bridge trolls, to house fires, to tornadoes, the usual.
Then there are those dreams that absolutely make no sense, but while you're dreaming them, it seems completely logical. My favorite of these for me is when I dreamed the Blues Brothers were robbing my house, and they had already killed my parents. I was hiding behind my older sister's bed, when John Belushi points a gun at my head and says "gotcha".
My most frequent version of dream is when I'm stressed or worried about something in particular, it will manifest itself and the dozens of ways it may play out in real life inside my head. These, in a way, are much more terrifying and disturbing than the classic nightmares. When I wake up, often I'll feel just more worried than I was to begin with, I'm not a fan of these nights.
This brings me to my favorite: the pleasant dreams. Usually, for me, these consist of replaying some of the best moments of my life. It's almost as if watching these scenes as a movie, allowing me to relive these wonderful times. The memories don't play out exactly as they happened, usually my subconscious will throw in something weird to shake things up: perhaps a stray giraffe, or something of the like. Regardless, these are the dreams I look forward to and hope for.
Dreams can be scary, interesting, meaningful, pleasurable, sensory, or simply a mode of communication with our innermost thoughts. I feel like my dreams let me know myself a little bit better each time. The effect these visions have over me is incredible. Sometimes, they can be so vivid, I can feel, smell, or taste these manifestations of my mind. Sometimes they can wake me in a cold and terrified sweat, other times they can find me waking up with a big smile on my face. Regardless of what kind of dream I have, I'm always grateful when I get to experience them.
For the past several years, I have made a conscious effort to write down my dreams right away when I wake up. Often, I'll find that I can wake up from the midst of an captivating story line of my subconscious, I'll lay in bed for another hour thinking about it, certain there's no way I'll forget it after thinking so hard about it. Then, lo and behold, it's gone the moment I sit up. Through writing down my dreams, I've found there are a few different categories to them.
First off, there's the good old fashioned nightmare. For example, when I was very, very young, I had a recurring nightmare of my Mom driving off a bridge into the Fox River, and beneath the bridge there were these trolls. The trolls forced us to do an obstacle course before they would let us go, and my Mom would always fall to her doom into the river while the trolls just laughed. Through the years, these nightmares have branched from bridge trolls, to house fires, to tornadoes, the usual.
Then there are those dreams that absolutely make no sense, but while you're dreaming them, it seems completely logical. My favorite of these for me is when I dreamed the Blues Brothers were robbing my house, and they had already killed my parents. I was hiding behind my older sister's bed, when John Belushi points a gun at my head and says "gotcha".
My most frequent version of dream is when I'm stressed or worried about something in particular, it will manifest itself and the dozens of ways it may play out in real life inside my head. These, in a way, are much more terrifying and disturbing than the classic nightmares. When I wake up, often I'll feel just more worried than I was to begin with, I'm not a fan of these nights.
This brings me to my favorite: the pleasant dreams. Usually, for me, these consist of replaying some of the best moments of my life. It's almost as if watching these scenes as a movie, allowing me to relive these wonderful times. The memories don't play out exactly as they happened, usually my subconscious will throw in something weird to shake things up: perhaps a stray giraffe, or something of the like. Regardless, these are the dreams I look forward to and hope for.
Dreams can be scary, interesting, meaningful, pleasurable, sensory, or simply a mode of communication with our innermost thoughts. I feel like my dreams let me know myself a little bit better each time. The effect these visions have over me is incredible. Sometimes, they can be so vivid, I can feel, smell, or taste these manifestations of my mind. Sometimes they can wake me in a cold and terrified sweat, other times they can find me waking up with a big smile on my face. Regardless of what kind of dream I have, I'm always grateful when I get to experience them.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
A Few Kind Words
I first learned what a compliment was in my early days of elementary school. Our principal's name was Mr. Pauley, a balding man with a thick mustache and a permanent smile on his face. At the end of every school day, he would announce any birthdays in the school, followed by a joke, and ended his announcements with "Have a great day, and make sure to give somebody a compliment." At first, I didn't think much of his encouragement to say some kind words to someone everyday. However, looking back on it, I can't help but be impressed by how wonderful of advice that was.
It's so simple. No cost, with the possibility for incredible payoff. You never know how much a compliment may affect someone. Especially when you pay one to someone you don't even know. Today, I was at a restaurant, just waiting at the counter for my order to be ready, when two of the workers complimented my hair. Nothing fancy, probably didn't take much effort on their part, just "I really like your hair". Maybe it's silly that such a thing could have such an effect on me, but it really made my day! I was so happy after that, it was so nice of them!
I encourage all of you to follow Mr. Pauley's sage advice. Every single day, make it a goal to pay one person a truly genuine compliment. I don't care if it's a friend you've known for years, the sister you see every day, or the girl checking out your groceries at the supermarket. Everyone likes to be noticed and appreciated every once and a while. Whether you say some kind words about an outfit that strikes you as different or interesting, or something they do exceptionally well, it will make them feel good. I know whenever anyone compliments me, it makes me happy, makes me smile, gives me faith in how wonderful people can be sometimes.
So I leave you with the parting words of my beloved principal, have a great day and make sure to give somebody a compliment". You never know how big of a difference a few kind words can make.
It's so simple. No cost, with the possibility for incredible payoff. You never know how much a compliment may affect someone. Especially when you pay one to someone you don't even know. Today, I was at a restaurant, just waiting at the counter for my order to be ready, when two of the workers complimented my hair. Nothing fancy, probably didn't take much effort on their part, just "I really like your hair". Maybe it's silly that such a thing could have such an effect on me, but it really made my day! I was so happy after that, it was so nice of them!
I encourage all of you to follow Mr. Pauley's sage advice. Every single day, make it a goal to pay one person a truly genuine compliment. I don't care if it's a friend you've known for years, the sister you see every day, or the girl checking out your groceries at the supermarket. Everyone likes to be noticed and appreciated every once and a while. Whether you say some kind words about an outfit that strikes you as different or interesting, or something they do exceptionally well, it will make them feel good. I know whenever anyone compliments me, it makes me happy, makes me smile, gives me faith in how wonderful people can be sometimes.
So I leave you with the parting words of my beloved principal, have a great day and make sure to give somebody a compliment". You never know how big of a difference a few kind words can make.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Common Application
"Please write an essay (250-500 words) on a topic of your choice or on one of the options listed below. This personal essay helps us become acquainted with you as a person and student, apart from courses, grades, test scores, and other objective data. It will also demonstrate your ability to organize your thoughts and express yourself."
250-500 words. The fate of my future will be judged upon these words. Under a thousand words make or break my admittance into my dream school. Any admissions officer I've spoken with has told me that a really fantastic essay can set a college application apart from the others; it can even turn a denial into an acceptance. However, it goes both ways. A truly awful essay can deter the university from allowing you to attend their prestigious institution.
So, with this enormous amount of pressure weighing on the 500 words I choose to submit to the Common Application, I begin to go through my options. I could decide to use one of the topics provided by the Application itself. There are the typical prompts: explain a significant event in your life, discuss a person who has had a large influence over your life, etc. Seeing as I really don't know what the admissions offices are looking for, going off of one of the provided topics is a safe bet. It's safe, it's easy, it's...common. I want to do something new. Something these admissions officers haven't read a million times before.
Deciding against the given topics, I'm left with one option: "Topic of Your Choice". While it sounds like I've narrowed it down, I've really done just the opposite. There are infinite possibilities. I could talk about anything. I could discuss how my sister's illness impacted my life early on, and inspired me to want to enter health care. Maybe I could write about how my privilege of travel opened my eyes to how different cultures of the rest of the world live besides my own. I could talk about how Swedish Fish are arguably the best movie theater candy there is if I wanted to.
My mind swims with ideas. With no specific direction to take, my brain just shoots all over the place. I jump from topic to topic. I don't want my essay to be boring. I want it to be different...almost quirky. However, I can't have it be too weird, or controversial, or irreverent. Eventually, with all of this worry, and how much pressure weighs on this essay, I just get frustrated. What do I write about when I don't know what I'm trying to write about?
My mom advised me to start with something I'm passionate about. She said that if I wrote about something I care about, something about which words will flow freely from my fingertips, that my passion and interest would come out in my writing. She said that's what makes a piece of writing come alive. Never underestimate the power of passion.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Take Me Out To The Ball Game
As I walk through the crowds of people, all clad in the team's signature colors, the excitement is palpable. A woman checks my ticket, and I'm officially allowed into the stadium. Then I find myself immersed in a world of souvenir and food stands, all things branded with the team's logo. My nostrils are infested by the smell of ball park hot dogs that aren't quite the same anywhere else in the world. Eventually, I manage to weave my way through the shops and to the darkness of the tunnel. I know what's before me, I know what's to come. I had seen pictures of Wrigley Field before. It had been shown in countless movies. But as I neared the light at the end of the tunnel, and the anticipation peaked, I could not have been prepared for what I was about to experience.
The brilliant sunlight made the bright green of the baseball diamond absolutely blinding. The sight of the players, the enormity of the 50,000 person stadium, the smell of the field, it was all so overwhelming. Foam finger in hand, I took my seat, the players warmed up, the national anthem was sung, and it was time. Play ball!
My dad decided that it was his right and his duty as a father to take each of his daughters to a Cubs baseball game at Wrigley Field at least once before we graduate high school. Last year, right before my older sister's graduation, my dad fulfilled this wish for her. Today, my time had come. I have never been one to appreciate sports. Yes, they can be fun, but if I'm flipping through channels on TV, I would never stop and watch a baseball game. I expected that I would somewhat enjoy this event, but eventually find myself keeping an eye on my watch out of boredom. I expected to make this a check off of my bucket list, and then never wanting to go back. I couldn't have been more wrong.
.JPG)
There's nothing quite like going to the ball park, Wrigley Field at that, the ball park of all ball parks, with my dad, and experiencing the competition, the rush, the camaraderie of the sport. This game was extra special to me, because the Cubs were playing the Cincinnati Reds - the same team they played when my Dad saw his first Cubs game as a little boy. Back when he brought his own catcher's mitt, dreaming of catching a fowl ball. Before today, I had no special attachment to the Cubs, or baseball in general. However, whenever a player did something remotely good, I would find myself standing and cheering at the top of my lungs. At the seventh inning stretch, I knew I was hooked on the excitement of the game. As I stood with my dad, his arm around me, as we screamed the words to "Take Me Out To The Ball Game", Cracker Jack and peanuts in hand, I knew nothing could be more special between a father and a daughter.
The brilliant sunlight made the bright green of the baseball diamond absolutely blinding. The sight of the players, the enormity of the 50,000 person stadium, the smell of the field, it was all so overwhelming. Foam finger in hand, I took my seat, the players warmed up, the national anthem was sung, and it was time. Play ball!
.JPG)
There's nothing quite like going to the ball park, Wrigley Field at that, the ball park of all ball parks, with my dad, and experiencing the competition, the rush, the camaraderie of the sport. This game was extra special to me, because the Cubs were playing the Cincinnati Reds - the same team they played when my Dad saw his first Cubs game as a little boy. Back when he brought his own catcher's mitt, dreaming of catching a fowl ball. Before today, I had no special attachment to the Cubs, or baseball in general. However, whenever a player did something remotely good, I would find myself standing and cheering at the top of my lungs. At the seventh inning stretch, I knew I was hooked on the excitement of the game. As I stood with my dad, his arm around me, as we screamed the words to "Take Me Out To The Ball Game", Cracker Jack and peanuts in hand, I knew nothing could be more special between a father and a daughter.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Early Bird Special
While I used
to be an enormous night owl, morning has now become my absolute favorite time
of the day. The few hours I have awake when the house is quiet are close to
perfection. During the day, everything seems so fast paced and rushed, which
isn't necessarily a bad thing. But in my head, where everything always seems
hustling and bustling, my few hours of quiet morning hour just seem to slow
everything down a notch or two. Being up so early, it feels okay to do mindless
tasks. I can move my hands slowly and methodically as I cut fruit for my
breakfast, and in turn, my mind can slow a bit. I can take a breath, think
about the little things, the big things, or think about nothing at all. It's
such a release from my normally worried, anxious and busy mind.
Since I've started
being up so early, I have fallen into somewhat of a routine. I wake in my warm
bed. When I realize that no more sleep will come to me, I reach for my phone
and check my e-mail and Facebook, read my Twitter feed, explore Instagram
updates, the important things in life. Then, I figure I've laid in bed enough,
and it's time to retreat from my down comforter. So, pulling on baggy,
oversized sweatshirt, my feet touch the ground and my day has begun.
I take my
first steps outside my room and into our front hallway and take a deep breath.
The silence is beautiful, and I let myself take it in. I make the journey
downstairs and open the refrigerator, pulling out sweet fruits of every color,
shape, and size. My favorite knife in hand, I slice up strawberries, peaches,
plums, bananas, anything. With a sprinkle of blueberries and raspberries, I
pour yogurt on top, and breakfast is served.
Now I sit.
Maybe with some soft television in the background, maybe just basking in the
silence. And I eat. I try to focus on being relaxed. I let this time be just
for me. I don't have to worry about making anyone else happy or entertaining
company. It's just me. I can read my book, browse the internet, or simply just
eat.
Once I'm
fed, I fill up my waterbottle, and it's time to exercise. If it's a really nice
morning, I'll go for a walk outside. But usually, I just take a walk in my
climate controlled basement on our treadmill. I walk for a half hour, not an
extreme workout or anything, but it wakes me up. It makes me feel ready for the
day. It energizes me. It's more time in which I don't have to think, or worry,
just be.
By this
time, I usually have another hour or two before the rest of my family is awake.
Sometimes I'll go out and do errands, like grocery shop or go to the library.
Other times, I'll work on cleaning different sections of my room. I strive to
get rid of one garbage bag of junk out of my room every weekend. Maybe I'll use
the quiet time to work on writing a blog entry like this one, or researching
colleges, or just simply and mindlessly browse Pinterest for delicious sounding
recipes or cute outfits.
It doesn't
really matter what I do with this time in the morning. What really matters to
me is that it is my time. Don't get
me wrong, I always look forward to when the rest of my family is awake too and
I get to spend the day with them. There's just something about this early
morning time though. It brings me into the day refreshed and relaxed. Before,
when I went to bed, I would get a feeling of dread if I knew I had to wake up
early. Now, I go to bed, and I think to myself "I get to wake up and have my lovely morning in just a few
hours!" Call me elderly, boring, freaking insane, whatever. I'll just
take it as a compliment and order the early bird special with a smile on my
face.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Short Lived...
"It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." This is a saying repeated through cheesy novels and romantic comedies since the beginning of time. However, is it really true? Maybe it applies sometimes, but from all of the heartbreak I'm observing right now, it's hard to have much faith in the saying.
Today started week three of a pre-medical institute at Washington University in St. Louis, the final week. Coming into the program, a group of thirty girls and guys are thrown together in a minimum security dorm, spending all day and all night with one another. I guess it should have been expected that bonds would be made and feelings would be developed. What I hadn't expected was that some of these feelings would be directed towards me. So, I had a decision to make. Do as the others in the program were doing and pursue a "relationship" that will meet an inevitable doom in three short weeks, or to not. Call me boring, too serious, a worrywart, whatever, I decided against it.
I didn't see a big enough upside to the guaranteed sadness and pain that would ensue from creating any tight bonds with these people I'll more than likely never see again. Maybe that sounds cold hearted, maybe it is cold hearted. Three weeks just wouldn't be worth it to me. However, I was one of the very few in this program that felt that way. My prediction came true. Bonds were formed, feelings developed...to the point where almost no boys or girls were sleeping in their own beds.
As one may assume, the second week was a romantic high for a lot of people here. There was a lot of hand holding, stolen kisses, relationship Facebook status alterations, the whole nine yards. But, anyone who's ridden a roller coaster knows that as exhilarating and wonderful as that high is, and as much as you may never want it to end, that high will eventually come crashing down. That brings us here. Week three.
Realizations are beginning to come into focus. That inevitable end that once seemed so far off is now baring its ugly face. I went home for the weekend and relationships were at nauseating as could be. When I returned, loving gazes have turned to regretful glances. Holding hands affectionately is now desperately clinging to what they know is slipping away.
Yes, the relationship high has indeed begun to plummet. Tears have already begun to flow in anticipation of the ride being over. So is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? Are all of these tears and heartache worth it? Who's to say? But when my friend - one shedding tears over soon leaving this program and consequentially her "boyfriend" who lives overseas - asked me for advice, I knew exactly what to say. We have one week left. A third of the program. She's going to face pain either way at this point, the ride will end, she's already had the high, there's no getting off now. But the ride isn't over yet. She has five more days to finish up the ride of her life. Would it have been better if she had never invested herself in this to begin with? Is it better to have loved and lost? Who's to say?
Today started week three of a pre-medical institute at Washington University in St. Louis, the final week. Coming into the program, a group of thirty girls and guys are thrown together in a minimum security dorm, spending all day and all night with one another. I guess it should have been expected that bonds would be made and feelings would be developed. What I hadn't expected was that some of these feelings would be directed towards me. So, I had a decision to make. Do as the others in the program were doing and pursue a "relationship" that will meet an inevitable doom in three short weeks, or to not. Call me boring, too serious, a worrywart, whatever, I decided against it.
I didn't see a big enough upside to the guaranteed sadness and pain that would ensue from creating any tight bonds with these people I'll more than likely never see again. Maybe that sounds cold hearted, maybe it is cold hearted. Three weeks just wouldn't be worth it to me. However, I was one of the very few in this program that felt that way. My prediction came true. Bonds were formed, feelings developed...to the point where almost no boys or girls were sleeping in their own beds.
As one may assume, the second week was a romantic high for a lot of people here. There was a lot of hand holding, stolen kisses, relationship Facebook status alterations, the whole nine yards. But, anyone who's ridden a roller coaster knows that as exhilarating and wonderful as that high is, and as much as you may never want it to end, that high will eventually come crashing down. That brings us here. Week three.
Realizations are beginning to come into focus. That inevitable end that once seemed so far off is now baring its ugly face. I went home for the weekend and relationships were at nauseating as could be. When I returned, loving gazes have turned to regretful glances. Holding hands affectionately is now desperately clinging to what they know is slipping away.
Yes, the relationship high has indeed begun to plummet. Tears have already begun to flow in anticipation of the ride being over. So is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? Are all of these tears and heartache worth it? Who's to say? But when my friend - one shedding tears over soon leaving this program and consequentially her "boyfriend" who lives overseas - asked me for advice, I knew exactly what to say. We have one week left. A third of the program. She's going to face pain either way at this point, the ride will end, she's already had the high, there's no getting off now. But the ride isn't over yet. She has five more days to finish up the ride of her life. Would it have been better if she had never invested herself in this to begin with? Is it better to have loved and lost? Who's to say?
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Finding Your Footing
In any new situation, no matter how big or small the change, there's always a period of adjustment. Sometimes the change is for the better, sometimes for the better, but regardless of the circumstances, the adjustment is never very fun. Personally, I am currently in the midst of a very new situation to me. This change involves being four hundred miles away from my parents, my sister, my home. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I'm close with my family, and I've never been away from them for any extended period of time before, especially not away from them with no friends, acquaintances, just a lot of unfamiliar faces.
This is all exciting, scary, fun, and lonely at first, all at the same time. Most of the other kids at this three week pre-medical program have been away from home several times before and treasure the freedom it entails. However, over the last week of adjusting to this new environment, I've been feeling the opposite. I love what I'm doing; learning about the medical field, dissecting brains and eyeballs, meeting new people, it's all a lot of great experiences. Most of the people are fantastic, and it's so interesting hearing about their lives and how differently people from different states and countries live. But, I can't help the occasional wave of homesickness that washes over me.
Of course, I've been able to keep in contact with my parents and sisters via Skype and texting. I stay in touch with friends over frequent e-mails and such. But, I've had many moments during this program in which all I wanted to do was to be able to grab my mom or my dad and just give them the biggest, tightest, I-never-want-to-let-you-go-hugs EVER. It's already been a week, so you'd think I would be completely adjusted by now, but this is all just so new to me. I realize that I only have one more year left of high school, and then that's it. It'll be the college experience, but I'll be gone for good. No counting down the days until I get to go back to the safe and easy environment of my childhood home, because I'll have to make somewhere else my new home. And that's scaring the living daylights out of me.
However, maybe the fact that I'm getting this experience, scariness and homesickness and all, is a really good thing. Maybe it'll make the transition when I go to college for good a lot smoother and expected. It'll be less of a thrown-into-the-deep-end-of-the-pool feeling, and more of a gradual wading into the water; letting my body acclimate to the pool temperature before allowing myself to be completely submerged. Not to say that it won't be difficult a year from now, and I'll be getting ready to move into a university that will become my home for at least four years of my life. It'll still be a challenge, and I'll still get homesick. But they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and this program is very far from killing me. In fact, I'm extraordinarily happy here about 75% of the time, and that percentage is slowly creeping its way upward. So I'm just hoping to come out of this program with a lot of great memories, interesting experiences, and a much stronger person.
This is all exciting, scary, fun, and lonely at first, all at the same time. Most of the other kids at this three week pre-medical program have been away from home several times before and treasure the freedom it entails. However, over the last week of adjusting to this new environment, I've been feeling the opposite. I love what I'm doing; learning about the medical field, dissecting brains and eyeballs, meeting new people, it's all a lot of great experiences. Most of the people are fantastic, and it's so interesting hearing about their lives and how differently people from different states and countries live. But, I can't help the occasional wave of homesickness that washes over me.
Of course, I've been able to keep in contact with my parents and sisters via Skype and texting. I stay in touch with friends over frequent e-mails and such. But, I've had many moments during this program in which all I wanted to do was to be able to grab my mom or my dad and just give them the biggest, tightest, I-never-want-to-let-you-go-hugs EVER. It's already been a week, so you'd think I would be completely adjusted by now, but this is all just so new to me. I realize that I only have one more year left of high school, and then that's it. It'll be the college experience, but I'll be gone for good. No counting down the days until I get to go back to the safe and easy environment of my childhood home, because I'll have to make somewhere else my new home. And that's scaring the living daylights out of me.
However, maybe the fact that I'm getting this experience, scariness and homesickness and all, is a really good thing. Maybe it'll make the transition when I go to college for good a lot smoother and expected. It'll be less of a thrown-into-the-deep-end-of-the-pool feeling, and more of a gradual wading into the water; letting my body acclimate to the pool temperature before allowing myself to be completely submerged. Not to say that it won't be difficult a year from now, and I'll be getting ready to move into a university that will become my home for at least four years of my life. It'll still be a challenge, and I'll still get homesick. But they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and this program is very far from killing me. In fact, I'm extraordinarily happy here about 75% of the time, and that percentage is slowly creeping its way upward. So I'm just hoping to come out of this program with a lot of great memories, interesting experiences, and a much stronger person.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Pin It!
The topic of social networking has come up time and time again through school, newspapers, blogs, television, etc. There's Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, the list goes on and on. But in the last year or so, a new form of internet entertainment has emerged. I'm sure most of you have heard of the website Pinterest, but if you haven't, it's basically the ideal website for those of us who: A. ADORE being an extreme packrat and B. Enjoy procrastinating through browsing random internet articles and pictures.
For those of you who don't know, on www.pinterest.com, you have "boards" on which you can "pin" random articles, pictures, ideas, sayings, really anything, that you would like to come back to. You can browse what other people pin, it's enough to keep me entertained for hours while I should be doing something more productive. Most of what I pin consists of either really amazing outfits I wish I owned, interesting ideas I had never thought of before, or recipes that look delicious beyond belief.
I got to a point where I realized I was wasting WAY too much time on this website. While I found many articles extremely interesting, recipes to be enticing, and outfits to be dazzling, none of it was real. I could pin these things all I wanted, but in the end, it didn't amount to anything in the real world. So, I decided to make a compromise with myself. I would allow myself to go on Pinterest for a modest amount of time, as long as I actually DID the things that I pinned on the addicting website.
So far, I've been pretty good about this compromise. Examples: I once pinned the fact that if you write a letter to your favorite Disney princess and send it to Walt Disney World Communications, you will receive a lovely post card back. My Cinderella post card now hangs proudly on my bulletin board. I also once pinned a recipe that looked far too beautiful and complicated for me to ever achieve for an Apple Braid. It involved braiding bread dough. But by golly, I did it, and it was delicious.
Now that I actually take some of these virtual "pins" and put them into real-life actions, I feel so much more accomplished when I'm supposedly "wasting" time on the internet. Maybe it's just justifying wasting time, but hey, when the apple braid, lemon bars, cinnamon pull-apart bread, or WHATEVER you happen to "pin" tastes good, I say EAT IT!
For those of you who don't know, on www.pinterest.com, you have "boards" on which you can "pin" random articles, pictures, ideas, sayings, really anything, that you would like to come back to. You can browse what other people pin, it's enough to keep me entertained for hours while I should be doing something more productive. Most of what I pin consists of either really amazing outfits I wish I owned, interesting ideas I had never thought of before, or recipes that look delicious beyond belief.
I got to a point where I realized I was wasting WAY too much time on this website. While I found many articles extremely interesting, recipes to be enticing, and outfits to be dazzling, none of it was real. I could pin these things all I wanted, but in the end, it didn't amount to anything in the real world. So, I decided to make a compromise with myself. I would allow myself to go on Pinterest for a modest amount of time, as long as I actually DID the things that I pinned on the addicting website.
So far, I've been pretty good about this compromise. Examples: I once pinned the fact that if you write a letter to your favorite Disney princess and send it to Walt Disney World Communications, you will receive a lovely post card back. My Cinderella post card now hangs proudly on my bulletin board. I also once pinned a recipe that looked far too beautiful and complicated for me to ever achieve for an Apple Braid. It involved braiding bread dough. But by golly, I did it, and it was delicious.
Now that I actually take some of these virtual "pins" and put them into real-life actions, I feel so much more accomplished when I'm supposedly "wasting" time on the internet. Maybe it's just justifying wasting time, but hey, when the apple braid, lemon bars, cinnamon pull-apart bread, or WHATEVER you happen to "pin" tastes good, I say EAT IT!
Leaving The Nest
This is the subject that has been floating around everyone my age's mind for the last few months. However, usually it's not an immediate worry for another year. I'm going to be a senior in high school next year, so this is the summer that's all about college visiting, thinking about applications, and coming to terms with the reality that you most likely will be leaving the comfort of your home and parents to stand on your own two feet. I just so happen to be lucky enough to get a little taste of this before I've even applied to a single university.
Tomorrow I leave home behind for three weeks in order to explore the medical profession in a college setting. I'll be staying in a university dorm, eating the college food, going to lectures and labs from 9 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon. Three weeks on my own. Three weeks of no parents to answer to. Three weeks of making my own decisions and living my own life. While this is very exciting and I'm sure my pre-med program will be extraordinarily interesting and enlightening, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared.
Some may say that three weeks is nothing. Lots of others my age go away for way longer than three weeks for summer camps, internships, and so on. However, I've never been away from my family for more than a week at a time, and even then, I was with my friends. This is the first time I'm going to be thrown into a completely new environment, not knowing anyone else, and hoping for the best. I'm glad I'm getting this experience now. This time, when my parents hug and kiss me goodbye and I feel a twinge of homesickness beginning to kick in, I'll be able to tell myself: "it's only for three weeks." Next time, it'll be at whatever college I decide to study at for my undergrad, and it won't be only for three weeks. It'll be for the year, and ultimately, the rest of my life.
I'll miss my parents and sisters like crazy, but deep down, I know that this is good for me. New experiences, stepping outside my comfort zone, learning to be on my own, getting the roommate and dorm experience. I'm ready to embark on this adventure and have a wonderful time, but not without a few looks backward at the loving and comfortable home and family I'll be leaving behind.
Tomorrow I leave home behind for three weeks in order to explore the medical profession in a college setting. I'll be staying in a university dorm, eating the college food, going to lectures and labs from 9 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon. Three weeks on my own. Three weeks of no parents to answer to. Three weeks of making my own decisions and living my own life. While this is very exciting and I'm sure my pre-med program will be extraordinarily interesting and enlightening, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared.
Some may say that three weeks is nothing. Lots of others my age go away for way longer than three weeks for summer camps, internships, and so on. However, I've never been away from my family for more than a week at a time, and even then, I was with my friends. This is the first time I'm going to be thrown into a completely new environment, not knowing anyone else, and hoping for the best. I'm glad I'm getting this experience now. This time, when my parents hug and kiss me goodbye and I feel a twinge of homesickness beginning to kick in, I'll be able to tell myself: "it's only for three weeks." Next time, it'll be at whatever college I decide to study at for my undergrad, and it won't be only for three weeks. It'll be for the year, and ultimately, the rest of my life.
I'll miss my parents and sisters like crazy, but deep down, I know that this is good for me. New experiences, stepping outside my comfort zone, learning to be on my own, getting the roommate and dorm experience. I'm ready to embark on this adventure and have a wonderful time, but not without a few looks backward at the loving and comfortable home and family I'll be leaving behind.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Expect The Unexpected
Growing up in my family, vacations were never exactly standard. To begin, my dad is a pilot and used to fly commercially. This occupation brought a certain chache when it came to traveling. He would often fly my family in our small private airplane. While that may sound extraordinarily glamorous, it's not as fancy as most probably imagine. However, growing up, this was just the norm for me.
One difference between the airline and our small airplane is assurance. Usually, when a friend tells you they're going on vacation, they can tell you for sure where and when they are going. When a friend asks me where I'm going on vacation, very often my answer will be something like "well...we're thinking East coast. But we're not sure, we may end up going out West instead." When they ask when I'll be leaving for my trip, my answer will almost always be along the lines of "No idea...we might not even end up going if the weather changes." So as one may imagine, we've gone on our fair share of adventures in our small plane. Several times, a trip we've been planning for months gets completely ruined by the unreliability of the weather. Even more often, it just leads to unexpected adventures. So you could say that I've had to get used to "flying by the seat of my pants" when it comes to vacations.
About a week ago, my grandma began talking about cruises and got a wistful look on her face. If it were up to her, she would spend her golden years traveling the world. However, my grandpa doesn't exactly have the same plans. That day, I saw ads for cheap last minute cruises. I looked into it, just for fun, and found several options that looked like they could maybe fit our busy schedule. Though I didn't think anything would come of it. However, as of Friday, we have airline tickets booked for Copenhagen, Denmark and cruise ship cabins booked to leave on Tuesday. If someone told me that was hasty or spontaneous I would say "why yes, it is" with a proud smile on my face.
Friday morning, my expectation was to be in Boston this week visiting my sister. However, maybe it was due to the shift in the winds or fate or whatever you may want to say, now I am expecting to be in Northern Europe this week. Who even knows what will end up happening? All I know is that I'll enjoy the ride and have some great stories to tell when I get back.
One difference between the airline and our small airplane is assurance. Usually, when a friend tells you they're going on vacation, they can tell you for sure where and when they are going. When a friend asks me where I'm going on vacation, very often my answer will be something like "well...we're thinking East coast. But we're not sure, we may end up going out West instead." When they ask when I'll be leaving for my trip, my answer will almost always be along the lines of "No idea...we might not even end up going if the weather changes." So as one may imagine, we've gone on our fair share of adventures in our small plane. Several times, a trip we've been planning for months gets completely ruined by the unreliability of the weather. Even more often, it just leads to unexpected adventures. So you could say that I've had to get used to "flying by the seat of my pants" when it comes to vacations.
About a week ago, my grandma began talking about cruises and got a wistful look on her face. If it were up to her, she would spend her golden years traveling the world. However, my grandpa doesn't exactly have the same plans. That day, I saw ads for cheap last minute cruises. I looked into it, just for fun, and found several options that looked like they could maybe fit our busy schedule. Though I didn't think anything would come of it. However, as of Friday, we have airline tickets booked for Copenhagen, Denmark and cruise ship cabins booked to leave on Tuesday. If someone told me that was hasty or spontaneous I would say "why yes, it is" with a proud smile on my face.
Friday morning, my expectation was to be in Boston this week visiting my sister. However, maybe it was due to the shift in the winds or fate or whatever you may want to say, now I am expecting to be in Northern Europe this week. Who even knows what will end up happening? All I know is that I'll enjoy the ride and have some great stories to tell when I get back.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
When You Feel Sad...
It's been an interesting few weeks since I last posted a blog entry. I had some of the best days of my life, and probably some of the worst as well. I've had a ton of fun, been incredibly happy, been incredibly stressed, felt extraordinarily confused. However, that description is probably pretty standard for life in general. Cycles of happiness and sadness. But, I've found the cure. Yes, it's revolutionary and something no one's ever thought of before, I am sure of it.
So are you ready to hear my secret? Keep in mind, this is not a permanent fix for sadness, however it is a temporary solution. Okay, here it is...
Stop.
Being.
Sad.
Be.
Happy.
Instead.
That is all.
When things seem so bad, and you just cannot stop thinking about whatever it is that's making you sad, STOP BEING SAD! Now, I know what you're thinking, that's much easier said than done. Well, luckily, I've come up with a few steps you can take in order to ward off these bad feelings that get you down.
1. Embrace the power of music. The right song can change your mood at the drop of a hat. That may be a cliche, but trust me, don't waste your time on angsty music that just makes you feel more sad. Use those songs that make you want to dance and sing to your heart's content.
2. Food. Another huge cliche, but seriously, you're sad, these are the moments for your version of comfort food. Whether that be ice cream, pickles, chocolate, just go for it.
3. Things that are self-fulfilling. Exercising, studying, learning a new skill, a big project. Anything that gives a feeling of accomplishment.
4. My biggest suggestion, and probably what is the most effective: Friends. Surround yourself with the people you love who will make you laugh and smile. It's moments like these when you realize how invaluable your friends and family really are.
On another note, I've had a lot of crazy stuff been going on in my life lately, and I wrote down subjects I wanted to talk about at one point or another, but never got to writing an entry on, so those will trickle in in the next few blogs.
So are you ready to hear my secret? Keep in mind, this is not a permanent fix for sadness, however it is a temporary solution. Okay, here it is...
Stop.
Being.
Sad.
Be.
Happy.
Instead.
That is all.
When things seem so bad, and you just cannot stop thinking about whatever it is that's making you sad, STOP BEING SAD! Now, I know what you're thinking, that's much easier said than done. Well, luckily, I've come up with a few steps you can take in order to ward off these bad feelings that get you down.
1. Embrace the power of music. The right song can change your mood at the drop of a hat. That may be a cliche, but trust me, don't waste your time on angsty music that just makes you feel more sad. Use those songs that make you want to dance and sing to your heart's content.
2. Food. Another huge cliche, but seriously, you're sad, these are the moments for your version of comfort food. Whether that be ice cream, pickles, chocolate, just go for it.
3. Things that are self-fulfilling. Exercising, studying, learning a new skill, a big project. Anything that gives a feeling of accomplishment.
4. My biggest suggestion, and probably what is the most effective: Friends. Surround yourself with the people you love who will make you laugh and smile. It's moments like these when you realize how invaluable your friends and family really are.
On another note, I've had a lot of crazy stuff been going on in my life lately, and I wrote down subjects I wanted to talk about at one point or another, but never got to writing an entry on, so those will trickle in in the next few blogs.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Pancakes
We go to school for eight hours a day. Eight class periods of lectures, tests, quizzes, projects, basically cramming as much knowledge as your brain can take. Needless to say, I think the average high school student's mind is mildly fried by the end of a full day of school. This is why I think that everyone should have a lunch period. If I took eight classes straight through the day, I'm not sure what I would do. My lunch period is what I look forward to in my day. It's a time when I can shut off my mind for 49 minutes, sit with my friends, and let my brain ease off of overdrive.
I'm going to preface the beginning of this story with the fact that I sit with three of my favorite people in the world during my lunch. They're the kind of friends I don't really have to worry about what I say when I'm around, because no matter how stupid it may be, we can all just laugh about it. Now, we may not have the most intellectual conversations in the world...but that doesn't meant that they're not the most entertaining in the world. We spent our entire lunch period today inserting the word "pancake" into movie titles, band names, etc. For example, Blink 182 becomes Blink 18pancake. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows becomes Harry Potter and the Deathly Pancakes. Sir Mix A Lot is Sir Mix A Pancake. I could go on and on.
When I told my Mom about this lunch conversation, she gave me that "you're a stupid teenager" face. We've all gotten it from our parents at one point or another. But honestly, I don't care that those 49 minutes consisted of possibly the most pointless conversation of my life. During this time, I did not have a stressful thought about my upcoming physics test. I didn't dwell on the fact that I haven't started studying for AP tests yet. All I did, was think of great movie titles that we could drizzle in butter and syrup. Everyone needs to have a time in their day when they can kick back, let go of their worries, and simply discuss The Girl With The Pancake Tattoo.
I'm going to preface the beginning of this story with the fact that I sit with three of my favorite people in the world during my lunch. They're the kind of friends I don't really have to worry about what I say when I'm around, because no matter how stupid it may be, we can all just laugh about it. Now, we may not have the most intellectual conversations in the world...but that doesn't meant that they're not the most entertaining in the world. We spent our entire lunch period today inserting the word "pancake" into movie titles, band names, etc. For example, Blink 182 becomes Blink 18pancake. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows becomes Harry Potter and the Deathly Pancakes. Sir Mix A Lot is Sir Mix A Pancake. I could go on and on.
When I told my Mom about this lunch conversation, she gave me that "you're a stupid teenager" face. We've all gotten it from our parents at one point or another. But honestly, I don't care that those 49 minutes consisted of possibly the most pointless conversation of my life. During this time, I did not have a stressful thought about my upcoming physics test. I didn't dwell on the fact that I haven't started studying for AP tests yet. All I did, was think of great movie titles that we could drizzle in butter and syrup. Everyone needs to have a time in their day when they can kick back, let go of their worries, and simply discuss The Girl With The Pancake Tattoo.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Hopping Down The Bunny Trail
Happy Easter to all! At the moment, I hope that you're scouring your house or backyard for hidden pastel eggs, or indulging in your basket full of chocolate, or sharing a wholesome brunch with people that you love. However, is it just me, or is Easter one of those holidays that I just forget about. There's nothing wrong with it, it's a perfectly lovely holiday. We get Friday off of school, I love treasure hunts, and I love brunch. So what is it that makes this holiday so forgettable to me?
I've pondered the memorability of this holiday several times, and I've come to one conclusion. There are just too many darn things I don't understand about the holiday! Obviously, Easter is quite the religious holiday. Coming from a religiously neutral family doesn't really help me in understanding the technical aspects as to what happened on this day that made it so special. I know that it starts with Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), where you feast and party and sin until the sun goes down. Then on Ash Wednesday, Lent begins, where you give up something you regularly indulge in. Then there's Good Friday, which who even knows what's happening on that day? Then on Easter Sunday, Lent is over and an over sized bunny invades your home and leaves eggs. Excuse me for being confused.
Now this brings me to my biggest confusion. The eggs. If it's an Easter Bunny that is leaving you these little treats...why the heck is he leaving you eggs? Am I the only one who's perplexed by this? Bunny's do not lay eggs. Where did they get these eggs? Were they stolen? Is the Easter bunny really a bandit, nabbing eggs from innocent birds' nests?
Don't get me wrong, I really do like Mardi Gras, and Good Friday, and Easter, and all that jazz; they're very enjoyable holidays. It's just that every year it seems they just sneak up on me. I'm always counting down to holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, however Easter just seems to go right under my nose every year. In order to cure this lapse in memory, I think it's about time I do some reading up on the true significance of Easter. We've all heard the Christmas stories told and retold since before we can remember. We know the tale of the first Thanksgiving by heart. Now I think it's the Easter Bunny's turn, it's time to learn about his origins and culture.
I've pondered the memorability of this holiday several times, and I've come to one conclusion. There are just too many darn things I don't understand about the holiday! Obviously, Easter is quite the religious holiday. Coming from a religiously neutral family doesn't really help me in understanding the technical aspects as to what happened on this day that made it so special. I know that it starts with Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), where you feast and party and sin until the sun goes down. Then on Ash Wednesday, Lent begins, where you give up something you regularly indulge in. Then there's Good Friday, which who even knows what's happening on that day? Then on Easter Sunday, Lent is over and an over sized bunny invades your home and leaves eggs. Excuse me for being confused.
Now this brings me to my biggest confusion. The eggs. If it's an Easter Bunny that is leaving you these little treats...why the heck is he leaving you eggs? Am I the only one who's perplexed by this? Bunny's do not lay eggs. Where did they get these eggs? Were they stolen? Is the Easter bunny really a bandit, nabbing eggs from innocent birds' nests?
Don't get me wrong, I really do like Mardi Gras, and Good Friday, and Easter, and all that jazz; they're very enjoyable holidays. It's just that every year it seems they just sneak up on me. I'm always counting down to holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, however Easter just seems to go right under my nose every year. In order to cure this lapse in memory, I think it's about time I do some reading up on the true significance of Easter. We've all heard the Christmas stories told and retold since before we can remember. We know the tale of the first Thanksgiving by heart. Now I think it's the Easter Bunny's turn, it's time to learn about his origins and culture.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)