All Good Things Must Come To An End

                It's over. The fat lady has sung, the curtain has fallen, time to go and leave it all behind. Over the years, we have found as a species that when something is really great, the time in which it occurs seems to accelerate so much that it's hard to enjoy it while you're in the midst of it. It's just flashing by too quickly. No matter how wonderful or spectacular something is, it must come to an end eventually. I witnessed proof of that today.
               Over the past few days, I have been volunteering at my old middle school to do the hair and makeup of the cast of their production of Hairspray. I was in the musicals every year myself when I was a middle schooler. Today was their last show, and the memories of my last shows in the choruses of High School Musical and Les Miserables. Before the last show, the dressing rooms and makeup areas are filled with flashes of cameras, and extra jitters to make the last show the best one. The show is as wonderful as could be, and then after the curtain falls, the eighth graders whose last year it is at the middle school - boys and girls alike -  break down into tears.
               Being in something that takes as much incredible amounts of time and energy as it does to put on a show the caliber of this isn't something that can be taken lightly. It becomes something so big that your life revolves around it for the several months of many hour practices a day, running lines, and rehearsing dances that when it's all taken away so suddenly, you feel just a little bit empty for a while. However, during these months of rehearsal, it's a never ending stream of complaints of exhaustion and fatigue. The songs get repetitive, and you're just ready for it to be over. Then when it's done, you couldn't want anything more than to have just one more show.
               I find the similar effect with almost anything. Take school dances: during them, it's a crazy amount of fun, but your feet are killing you, it's boiling hot, swaying your hips back and forth has begun to seem a little redundant, and your ears are begin to take on a high pitched ringing sound. Then when it's all over, you just want to relive the night in your head over and over again. Vacations is the other big one. When you've been gone from home for a week and you're still in a hotel, eating foreign food, struggling to understand the heavily accented voices around you, you begin to long for the comfort of your own bed. Then when you're back, you can't believe the vacation ended so soon.
             These amazing things can last a few hours, weeks, months, years, maybe even for the rest of your life...but like I said, sooner or later, all good things must come to an end eventually. So when you're living through something great, stop and look around. Make sure you're experiencing it from the inside out, you'll regret the end a lot less, and have a lot more memories to relive when all is said and done.
             The curtain has fallen.

Seasonal Purgatory

                 Springtime! The season of flowers blooming, the smell of warm rain in the air. The grass is growing, each day is warmer and warmer. It's a beautiful season! NOT! I absolutely hate spring, it's my least favorite season of them all. While I have been enjoying all of the rain, otherwise, it's a miserable time of the year. Summer and winter are what I like to think of as "definite" seasons. They're warm or cold, one way or the other, no matter what. In winter, you wear your winter coat if you ever step outside the house, no exceptions. In summer it's hot, you can be confident in your decision to wear shorts and a tank top without checking the weather forecast.
                Fall and spring are what I like to think of as "purgatory" seasons. Seasons in which you must constantly check the temperature in order to determine what is appropriate to wear the next day. They are seasons of great change and transition. Luckily, in fall, the transition is very smooth and quick. The changing period is beautiful with the leaves changing colors to gorgeous reds and oranges. And in a period of just a couple of weeks, it goes from warm to cold, no big deal. Then there's spring. The worst of them all. It's dreadful months on end of a giant question mark in regards to weather. Less than a week ago it was eighty degrees. We broke out the shorts, played tennis outside, it was great. Today: it snowed.
                That's the big reason to absolutely detest spring. Then there's the fact of what's customarily happening in each of these seasons. Summer is great just because we're out of school. We're free to have all the time we want to ourselves. Sleep in, hang out with friends, stay out late. It's a time of freedom. In fall, school's just started, everything's exciting and new. Football (marching band) season, school hasn't quite gotten hard yet. With winter comes my favorite holidays: Christmas, New Years, AND my birthday. Also, I like the clothes I wear in winter better than the clothes I have for summer (superficial, I know, but I consider it important). But winter's my favorite because everyone really seems to be in a good mood for most of this season. Maybe because the Christmas season is upon us, but I think that the never ending possibility of a snow day, the looming holiday ahead, it just makes everything better.
                Then there's spring. School is STILL in session, feeling like it will never end. Everyone is just going through the motions while their minds are really just set on plans for the season to come. This seasonal purgatory that has a beautiful facade, isn't so beautiful on the inside.

Commitment Issues

                Get ready, because I'm about to be a humongous hypocrite! I can't stand it when people start things that they are really committed to, enthusiastic about, and obsess over for a week, or maybe even over a month, but then just completely give up on it. This is worst when they're committed to something that's making a difference in the world, and they give up simply because they "don't feel like it." Commitment is a problem with everyone in this universe. For me, it's hard to even commit to a choice of what to have for dinner. I'll get out four or five potential meals and mull over the decision for twenty minutes before deciding what to eat.
               This comes up because at the moment, it's 11:33 P.M....I've been up since 5:50 A.M...I'm exhausted (explaining why my thoughts may not be extremely cohesive). I got in bed, and I thought to myself "nahh, it's late, I'm tired, no one will miss it if I don't write a blog tonight." So I began to read a book, but then a new thought crossed my mind: "what will reading this stupid vampire chick-flick of a book do to change any life in the slightest way? I'm committed to my blog, and you know what, who cares about what my reader count is at the end of the day? I do my blog for me, to document my thoughts. It's my commitment, and I'm sticking to it!" 
               The term: "commitment issues" is often used to describe a state of men in which they refuse to settle down with their girlfriend because they have trouble being able to commit to just one woman for the rest of their lives. But a relationship is not the only thing one should be committed to. So when you start a project, regardless of what it is: extra credit for school, a really big book, exercising more, blogging close to every day, or writing in a daily journal, if it's something you're enthusiastic about, stick to it. If one night you don't "feel like" sticking to it, the next night it will escalate to: "well I didn't do it last night, why do it tonight?" and eventually you've given up on something you were so excited about! So find a project you can get enthusiastic and passionate about, and follow through. No matter how tired you are, just push through, and it will be worth it again.
               And my eyelids fall.

Look Out Behind You...

                 BOO! Yes, I'm sure I scared you severely - watch out for nightmares tonight. I just had a very interesting conversation with my Mom and I thought to myself: "you know what....I think I just found what I'm going to blog about". Fears. Those things that just put you a little on edge, all the way to that which makes you ready to burst into hysterics at any moment. We all have them, regardless of how irrational the fear may be. Today's lunch conversation with my friends conveniently had to do with fears as well, however that was exclusively discussing our mutual fear for bugs. That is of course one of the most common fears. The creepy crawly feeling one gets when they spy a bug on the wall. They never scared me as a child, but after hearing my 7th grade science teacher's story of how he almost died (twice) of a brown recluse spider bite, I've never been able to shake the fear I feel if I ever see a spider that I will get fatally bitten.
                There are things that we grow up being told that we should be afraid of - what it's normal to fear. Things from bugs, to heights, to what lies in one's closet. As a child, these were not the things that scared me. My big fears started with the fear of house fires. I have a bunk bed (yes, I am just awesome like that), and I thought that since I wouldn't be able to roll out of bed in case of a fire, I would get suffocated in the fumes of the flames. Eventually, I grew out of that fear, and I moved onto tornadoes (after understanding what was actually happening in The Wizard of Oz) I was terrified any time there was a tornado watch out (and I live in the midwest, we had them from time to time). However, neither of these fears are my longest running or greatest fears.
                 When I'm in my bed, sleep coming nearer and nearer, and all of a sudden thud! Crack! Whoosh! Clank! I would hear a noise in the night. If it was during a time I knew my parents were still awake, I could easily blame it on them, and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep feeling as safe as can be. But when my parents shut the door to their bedroom for the night, any noise I heard in the house brought immediate images of armed and dangerous burglars, ready to bind and gag me at any minute. Now I live in a big house along with two sisters, two parents, and two very rest less cats. Random creaking is bound to happen. However for years upon years, almost every single night I would hear a noise that pushed me to get out of bed and check the locks around the house.
                  Call this little thing obsessive compulsive if you must, but assuring myself that my house contained nothing but my family and my cats made me feel infinitely better. But if I didn't check, I couldn't sleep for hours. In the past year or so, I've managed to shake that little habit, however I've found myself from time to time feeling the urge to get up and check the locks due to a noise I may have heard.
                    Everyone has fears. Some as simple as small crawling creatures looking for residence in your house. Some are irrational and crazy like the fear of clowns or pudding. For some like me, it's fearing what exactly the darkness and stillness of night may be hiding in its shadows. It's okay to be afraid sometimes. However my fear drove me to do somewhat crazy things. However I wouldn't take them back. You never know what may be hiding....right around the corner.

Middle School...Those Were The Days

             Today as I'm walking towards my old middle school I attended just a short two years ago, I commented to my friend, "you know, I really miss middle school." She was incredulous, and replied that she had the exact opposite sentiment. She thought that middle school was an awkward time that doesn't even compare to the high school life. While I have to agree with her in some respects that high school is quite a bit better in the social aspect, returning to my middle school reminded me of the serious advantages of the pre-high school days.
             I remember first weeks of high school being a huge shock to me. In middle school, I didn't have to study for anything really at all. I got straight A report cards, I didn't really care at all about the work I turned in. The night before a test I barely even have the upcoming exam on my mind. Whereas now as a high schooler today, I have a U.S. History test tomorrow, and it's basically all I can think about. The only things going through my mind are the dates of major World War II battles, and the Jewish casualties on the Night of Broken Glass (Kristallnacht).
             Middle school was also a time when it was easy to shine. There weren't all that many students (much less than half of my current class). Within this group of students, you could find at least one, if not many, different areas to stand out in. Whether it was academics, leadership, performing arts, sports, whatever your thing may be. I recall feeling on top of the world when I was in middle school. I was in student ambassadors, a wrestling manager, in the chorus of the musicals, getting A's, first chair clarinet, I was living the dream. But then high school hits, and everyone is so smart and talented and wonderful, it's really hard to find anywhere in which you can stand out from the crowd.
              High school is probably better in the ways that freedom is increased by a landslide, you finally  have your group of friends you fit in with solidified, bigger school, definitely more entertaining and dramatic. I do love high school, and if I were given the choice, I would pick it over middle school. But sometimes, I can't help missing the feeling that I knew everyone in my class. The feeling that my life still had so many millions of places to go, that I was barely getting started. Now I feel like the finish line in the race of childhood is emerging, getting closer and closer by the day. Middle school was a time of limited pressure. A time when possibilities were endless. So now, as I digress from this blog entry, I must go study for the AP U.S. History test.....yes, that makes sense.

Nothing But The Clothes On My Back

               Fashion. It can be defined as a certain manner in which something is done. It can be what's "in", what's "hot and not". We judge everyone we see on a daily basis by their fashion. But put most simply: it's the clothes you put upon your back. Something to cover your skin and offer protection. But since the beginning of society, fashion has meant so much more than that. It's been a marker. That marker may indicate who one is as a person, their class, one's mood, or social status. Some love to blend in, while others do everything in their power to stand out from the crowd. Me? Well...I'm definitely not one to fit in.
               In my high school, I'd say about 85% of the girls in the school wear either a "hoodie" zipped halfway up over a tank top or a t-shirt from some kind of program in school that they're a part of three out of five days of the week. There's nothing wrong with this style, it's what girls of my school are comfortable in. However, with the clothes I choose to wear, I love to get artistic with it. I go for different looks that not everyone likes, and that's okay. Not everything I put together is gorgeous, but to quote Good Will Hunting (my favorite movie of all time), "at least I won't be unoriginal."
               I go for suspenders, big bows in my hair, patterned tights (they are possibly my favorite thing!), changing my hair every day, one skirt over another (which in all honesty, I stole from my sister, but I do love it!), etc. Sometimes I'll go a little too far and wear something just a little too weird; but the beautiful thing is that the next day, I can start over with a clean new slate. Once on a day I was wearing a black and white striped skirt over a turquoise ballerina skirt, black lacy tights, a big purple bow in my curled hair, with purple suspenders, my friend Samantha compared what I was wearing to Alice in Wonderland and said "I always love what you wear, but I would never be brave enough to wear it myself!"
               I will never forget that comment. I get generic compliments on my outfits all the time, but it's rare to get a comment of this nature. Someone who admires what I do, but isn't brave enough to break the social boundaries into the new and unexplored. This comment could be taken as a bit of an insult, but nonetheless, I was flattered. When I wear something like I did that day, I feel confident, like I can combat anything that may come my way. When I blend in and wear a school t-shirt with jeans, I just feel like I have to be compared with every single other girl who's wearing the exact same thing, and I hate it! I'm much more comfortable when I'm dressing like me. Not quite fitting in all the time. But you know what? That's what I like about it.
               Don't be afraid to be bold. Society's boundaries are holding you back. Take a step forward and do what you want.

Compact The Magic of Books

              Problem: (The Average American's Perspective) Alright! I am so ready for a vacation! Like O-M-G, teachers are so annoying. I do my homework, then instead of rewarding me with a break, they just pile on more homework. Well it's spring break, and it's time to party! First thing's first, I've got to pack. I'll be gone for 7 nights and 8 days...so I'll pack sixteen outfits...just to be safe. Toothbrush, hairbrush, makeup brushes, sunblock, snorkel. What am I forgetting...? Oh! Books for the airplane and lounging on the beach! Hmm...I'll want the new Stephen King *carry on is halfway full*. But what if I get bored of that? I should pack in there a couple of my favorite Harry Potters *carry on is 3/4 of the way full*, but then again, I do want to read something new. Ahh a new Nicolas Sparks book, that'll work *carry on is 5/6 of the way full). Then of course the essential: Twilight (duh!) *stuff, stuff, stuff,* Ugh! It won't fit!!!
               Next Day: At The Airport
               "Carry on has exceeded the weight limit."
               Dangit
               Solution: E-Reading!
               I've ranted and raved about how much I adore reading; now for how I adore reading. My parents forced reading upon me from the first time I started understanding what a book was. As I said in earlier posts, I hated it at first. But at twelve years old with the reading of Twilight came a passion for reading. I wanted to read anything I could get my hands on. When the Kindle was launched as the first e-reading system to debut in 2007, my parents jumped at the chance to invest in the e-reading industry. Soon enough, my whole family was hooked. So I've been a devoted Kindle user for the past several years. And now, I can't even fathom going back to reading actual books.
              There are the obvious reasons why e-reading's so great: books are cheaper, the system's lighter, saves paper, etc. But there are hidden reasons beyond all of the superficial statistics. I think that with the purchase of my Kindle came a whole new kind of motivation to read. It's hard to explain. But a deal breaker for a lot of people with e-reading is that they'll miss the feel of a real book: the pages, and the feeling of accomplishment when closing the book with a hearty slam. However, with the Kindle, each percentage point I gain in a book feels like a mini accomplishment in itself. Then there's the prospect of free books. There are over 1.8 million free books available for download on amazon.com for the Kindle. Among these are old classics, and new books written by independent authors who chose to publish solely on Amazon as an e-book. When I read one of these independent books, I feel like I may be reading the next Harry Potter or Twilight, and I'm one of the first ones reading it.
              I could rant about e-reading for hours upon hours on end. It just so happened to be in my mind today because I gave a speech on the topic in my English class today. My advice to you: if you have the opportunity or desire to get an e-reader: DO IT! You will NOT regret it! I suggest the Kindle, I love it! $149 for the Wi-Fi version, $189 for 3G, there are a million reasons why I recommend it over the Nook, iPad, or Sony Reader, if you have any questions as to why, feel free to ask!

P.S. A shout out to whoever is reading my blog in Singapore, I've noticed that's the one country other than the U.S. that consistently reads my blog about weekly.