Beauty

Today my friend said something to me. She said "Everyone makes mistakes. But they are still perfect. If that makes sense."

To me, it does make sense. It makes sense in a weird, convoluted way, that I can't describe. It's complicated, an enigma. But I think it's the basic truth in everyone, and the sooner people realize that, the sooner the world will be a better place.

The thing about me is that I want to be beautiful. Not necessarily in the attractive, physical way, but I want there to be something beautiful about me. Everyone, it seems, is beautiful sometimes, even the girl who no one likes. For instance, there's this girl I know, who I'm not exactly friends with, but I try to not shun her outright and I speak to her sometimes. She's not the most attractive girl in the world, and she's not the lightest, but she loves singing. And when she starts to sing, you can tell that she loves it. It's written all over her face and seeps into your consciousness. She might not sing especially well (in my view of course), but she can sing. And she is beautiful when she sings. If she walked around singing all the time, she would have had so many boyfriends by now she wouldn't be able to keep track.

I love singing too, but I don't think I'm beautiful when I sing. I don't know, it's hard to explain, but I want there to be some aspect of beauty in my life. Maybe my writing's beautiful, and that makes people look at me in a new light, or maybe when I laugh (such a cliche, but I can't help it) my whole face changes or something.

My writing isn't particularly beautiful, and my laugh is somewhat harsh, but I know there's one time when I look beautiful. I just need to find it.

If everyone could find out when they look beautiful, then they could think back to that moment whenever they're feeling ugly or down or depressed, and be lifted up.

Beauty is everywhere. We just need to find it.

It's in that twisted, gnarled tree over by the pond that's frozen over in the winter. The trunk is black and scarred, but that's just a testament to how long it's lived, and how many adversities it's faced.

It's in that kid who never talks when they smile, when people get to see a slice of what they might be like if anyone ever bothered to find out.

It's in the summer breeze, cooling you after you've run for a long time. You might be sweaty, and you might be panting, but that breeze makes you feel refreshed. Because of the beauty in it.

The problem with people, especially busy, driven ones, is that we're all too caught up in our social life. Not just talking with friends, because friends are important, but our relationships with other people, and other things. Things such as computers, and televisions. You might not realize it at first, but these things practically control our lives (or at least most teenagers). Think about it. When was the last time you went outside and watched the sunset? When was the last time you ran around in a field, or just took a walk somewhere? I'm not suggesting we do these things in winter, because winter is a horrible season and it's way too cold outside to go walk around or run in a field. But...

When was the last time you had an adventure?

Have you ever noticed?

Have you ever noticed how when you look at individual things in a person, they're not that special, but when put together they are unique? For instance, say you like musicals. Well, a lot of people like musicals. Not that interesting. They also knit. Again, a lot of people knit. They're a teenager, along with 28 million in the U.S.. Maybe they also like to listen to hard rock. *Yawn*. They write essays about zombies. Hmm, that's sort of interesting, but it's not like no one's ever had that idea before. They want to be a psychiatrist. So do tons of others. BUt if you put them together, and get a teenager who listens to musicals and hard rock, knits, writes zombie essays, and wants to be a psychiatrist, now THAT is an individual. I'm thinking of putting something like that in my application to Brown University.

Did you know that Brown is the 15th best college in the U.S.A., and one of the hardest to get into? Only 14% of applicants make it. Those are not good odds. Especially if you had two Cs in your first semester of high school, like I did. Just thinking about that gives me a sick feeling in my stomach. It's only my freshman year of high school, and I'm already thinking about my college application essays.

Do you re-use the same essay for every school you apply to, or do you have to write a different one for each?

I don't expect to get a 4.0 GPA, mainly because I like having friends. But I'm really going to try for a 3.8, at least. Right now I have an A- in Math and Latin, which is pretty good, a B+ in Writing, and a B in Science, which I'm going to try to bring up because if you want to be a psychiatrist (like I do), then you have to have a really good background in math and science. I'm going to try to take more advanced math classes next year... if I can.

But enough about that. Now for something that's been kind of bugging me.

One of my friends at school I've known for a LONG time. Since kindergarten, if you want to be specific. She was in the same kindergarten class as me. She remembers things... a little differently than I do.

For example, she remembers this one time that I was sick and I threw up in the classroom. I don't remember this, but I'm not calling her a liar. In fact, this could have easily happened. But does she really need to bring it up ALL THE TIME? Does she really need to tell EVERYONE? What about that guy I know in my Writing class who annoys me constantly? Did she have to tell him? Now he's going to bring it up in Writing tomorrow, and I'll be sentenced to disgusted looks. Which I hate.

Now don't get me wrong, this person is really nice. She's so nice that she doesn't think about how this story telling is going to affect me, because I don't think that something like this has ever happened to her before. But it has happened to me.

I'm just warning you, if you have a potentially embarrassing story about someone (even if it happened 8/9 years ago) think about how it'll affect that person before you go spreading it around.

BTW, this isn't JUST going to be a complaining blog. Sure, there'll be some of that here, but you can just skip over those parts if you so choose. I'm not looking for sympathy, I just want to tell someone about all of this. Otherwise I might go (even more) insane.

Way to be Immature

A couple days ago I was on facebook, and I noticed that a bunch of my friends had made a "friend quiz" to see how much your friends actually know about you. I took a couple of them and scored pretty well :) and then I decided to make one of my own. I put a bunch of easy questions on it and some harder ones. One was how old I am, and the choices were 13, 14, and 15. I just had my fifteenth birthday, so I thought this would be an easy one.

Then I checked my email to see who had taken it. It turned out that one of my good friends had taken it and scored only 50 or 60 percent. A little hurt, but brushing it off as a joke, I looked at what she had answered. I don't remember the other ones she got wrong, but on the age question she had said I was 13. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not (it's so hard to on the internet) so I talked to her about it the next day. As it turns out, when she took it she had had one of her friends over, and her friend had pressured her into answering all of the questions wrong. Guess who that friend was? If you guessed Bri, you get the million dollar prize. Really, Bri? How low do you have to go before you're pressuring one of your supposed "friends" into answering questions wrong on a FRIEND QUIZ? Have you hit rock bottom yet? I sure hope so, because I'm not sure how much lower you can get. Remember when we were in D.A.R.E. and they told us over and over that a friend who pressures you to do things you don't really want to do isn't actually a friend? Chew on that for a while, why don't you.

Then today, my "friend" (no names mentioned, but I'm sure you'll be able to tell who you are) was being a complete brat. I'd use stronger language, but it goes against my better nature (even though it's been hiding for the last couple years). I always do my makeup in school because 1. I don't have time to do it at home and 2. My mom would flip out if she knew I was using makeup. She's a weirdo like that. My "friend" usually joins me when and borrows my makeup. Except of course, when she's busy with her other friends who she likes more than me. That might not be true, but it's how it seems to me. Evidence: Whenever she's with these friends, she completely ignores me, even if she's looking right at me. Whenever I try to talk to her when she's with one of these friends, she brushes me off, or makes a snarky, sarcastic comment. It gets pretty annoying after a while. In fact, sometimes I don't know why I'm still friends with her. But anyways. Today, we were going to lunch, and someone had told us that there were chicken nuggets today. Since the chicken nuggets are the most popular of the things served in the cafeteria, and we have C lunch (the last lunch), they are almost always gone by the time we get there. So we started speedwalking, and since she was wearing a miniskirt and couldn't move her legs very far apart, I was walking faster than her, and in front of her. Somehow or other, she tripped and hit her knee. She made it through lunch, but after that it really started acting up and swelling. After lunch she asked me to walk to the nurse with her, and I walked most of the way there, but then I heard the bell ring and told her that I had to get to class. I admit, my reasons were selfish for this, because I could have walked the rest of the way there and still made it to my class, but I'm not going to tell you what my reasons were.

I left her walking to the nurse's office and went upstairs to grab my stuff before going to chorus. She reappeared in the middle of it (we have the same chorus class) with an ace bandage around her knee. I felt bad for her, and tried to convey this across the room without talking. I think she might have taken them as sarcastic, which totally was NOT the intention. Then after class, I went to talk to her to ask how her leg was feeling. As I was walking towards her, this boy we both talk to said "Nice going, Moira." I had no idea what he was talking about so I said "What?" He replied "You know what you did." Then walked away. Apparently my friend blames me for falling on her face and hurting her knee. I have no idea how she's come to this conclusion, because I was walking in front of her and felt someone stepping on the back of my shoe right before she fell. I don't know if this was her, but if it was, how the hell can she blame me for this? I was trying to be a good caring friend to make up for not walking with her to the nurse's office. But apparently she's giving me the silent treatment. That's actually okay by me, because I can give it right back to her. She's been a real bitch to me sometimes, and she probably deserves to know what it feels like.

Self Discovery

Italy

When I went to Italy in seventh grade, I thought I was going to have adventure and excitement, like you’re supposed to have in europe (and in Italy especially). This didn’t happen.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved Italy, and would go back there at the drop of a hat. It was beautiful and crazy and amazing and breathtaking... My family went to see the island of Murano, where they make all of those gorgeous glass sculptures. I got some really nice necklaces for my friends (one was this stunning clear glass heart, hollow, that had swirls of gold running through it) (my friend promptly broke it). I have to admit, though, I was a little disappointed. My parents never let me out of their sight, which was pretty annoying. I mean, how can you have adventure when your overprotective parents are breathing down your neck 24/7? There wasn’t even a chance for excitement. We did some really wonderful things, but they weren’t exactly exciting. For example, we must have seen 5 museums. Museums are nice and all, and some of the art is great, but they aren’t really my thing, and you have to admit, they are the some of the least exciting places on earth. I kept hoping that I’d be able to sneak off on my own through an unmarked door or something and have to save someone like in the movies (yeah right).

Let me tell you something. If you take kids (especially teenagers) to an exotic foreign place, they don’t want to spend family time with you every day, all day. They want to go off on their own, meet new people, form new relationships, build new bridges. They want to find someone who understands them, who they can have meaningful conversations with. How can they do all that when you’re dragging them to museums and tourist traps and to islands that you can’t immediately get off/take shelter in a safe dry place when a storm starts up? And then, when they do actually manage to escape your (good intentioned) chokehold, you are on the verge of calling the cops. Hello, 13 year olds know how to take care of themselves. I mean, most of them actually stay at home alone, without having their uncle look after them. *Gasp* How do they manage to keep from killing themselves or getting into a stranger’s car on the flimsy offer of candy or a new bike? How about a cellphone?

I read this book once, where the main character is a little bigger than most people, and her mother is always trying to force her to go on diets and stop eating as much. She has a horrible self image and is always putting herself down. Then her mom sends her off to Italy to stay with a family friend for the summer (I forget why). In Italy, she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, and slowly she gets stronger by walking everywhere and learns to love herself.

I wish something like this would happen to me. I have a few issues with my face and body (too plain and too skinny, respectively), and I just want to believe that if I got to go to a foreign country and give myself a social makeover (away from the prying eyes of my family) then I might learn to be happy with myself, too.

Oops ;)

Sorry I haven't been blogging for the past few days, but I've been kinda busy... Now for the musical, we're staying till 6:00 this week, and probably 10:00 next week. I have an overload of homework too, so that's not helping, but I'll try not to make this post just a complaint :)

I'll post the rest of the story later, but for right now I need you, my readers to do something. That something is to click on THIS. This is a website written and created by my friend Shelby, and right now I don't think that it has any readers (much like this blog). She asked me to get the word out, and I'm trying, but it's hard because she doesn't want anyone she knows to know about it, because she writes about people that we actually know :)

In other news, I had a "showdown" with Bri. I don't know if I told you about her, but she hates me for no reason. So she's always on my case and a bitch to me, and it was getting pretty annoying. Usually I try to ignore her, and it mostly works. but yesterday was just the last straw. We were backstage (unfortunately she's in the musical too) and I was sitting down because we were in the second act and my feet were pretty tired. I had about a song until I had to go on again, so I was just resting there. Guess who walks up? Bri. There were other people around, like my friends Heather and Sedona, but Bri goes right towards me. "YOU HAVE TO GET IN YOUR PLACE!!!" She said it quite rudely, but I did comply with her wishes. I just made a passing comment, which was "Alright Bri, but you don't have to be so rude." Her face practically turned purple! She couldn't believe that meek little me was actually defying her. All she could come up with was "But you have to be in your place!" "I was just going to my place. I'm just asking if you could be a tad politer." "BUT YOU HAVE TO BE IN YOUR PLACE!" "I understand that, Bri."

At this point Heather intervenes, telling me to drop it. And I do, because Bri obviously can't think what to say next and I'm a pretty nice person. Then, when we were almost done with the play, Heather comes up and says "Well, Bri won't be bothering you anymore." I was confused. Had she backed down that easily? But as it turns out, Bri was talking to Heather about the incident, and Heather was getting pretty annoyed. She finally told Bri to drop it because no one cared. Some other stuff too, but I don't remember that. Bri was getting all worked up about what Heather said when Mrs. Pierpont (the costumes lady who is AMAZINGLY NICE) asked Bri if there was a problem.

My friend Nicole works with Mrs. Pierpont sometimes after school when I'm in rehearsal, and if we have a break I usually go down and talk to her. On one occasion I had complained to her about Bri and how annoying she was being. Mrs. Pierpont overheard, so she knows a little of our mutual disliking.

Anyways, Heather told Mrs. Pierpont to talk to Bri about it. I don't know exactly what Bri said to her, but apparently she got told off. So that's one less thing to stress me out :)

Well, I have another half hour to kill. I'd read some MLIA, but I've already read all of them and voted on all the new submissions. I'll probably just read my book and listen to my iPod instead of doing my work. XD

Herman The Merman

Sorry I haven't been blogging, but I've been pretty busy, what with the musical and homework and everything. And I only have study hall every other day... so yeah. Anyways, here's Part 2 of my story :) Enjoy!

I opened the box slowly, not sure what to expect. The confetti and card was nice, but what if this was all a trap? There were some people out there trying to capture me, that I knew. And my sister too... Oh well. If I didn't open this box, it was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I just knew it.

I gently tore off a corner of the paper. Nothing exploded, made a loud noise, or gave off radiation... so I guessed it was okay. I dove into the rest of the box eagerly, throwing paper and cardboard everywhere. When the melee had finally calmed down a bit, I peeked inside. GUESS WHAT IT WAS. A PLATYPUS. There was a freaking PLATYPUS in my house!!! Another card was attached to it's neck with a loop of string, but this one just said "Herman the Merman". I had no idea who this Herman the Merman was. Maybe he was the guy who sent this present to me. Maybe I was supposed to find him... but who cared? I had a platypus!!! Hmmm... first things first. Was my platypus a boy or a girl? I had to think up a name, as well. Being very careful not to prick myself with the poisonous barbs at it's knees, I turned it onto it's back. Well, what do you know? It was a boy.

However interesting that was, I still needed a name for him. I glanced around, looking for inspiration. I tended to not be very imaginative when it came to names, so I usually named my pets after things in the room I was currently in (I once named my dog Cabinet). My gaze got caught by the name on the card that was around his neck. Herman the Merman. It had a nice ring to it, and was way more creative than anything I could ever come up with. Herman the Merman it was.

I set Herman down so he could explore his new house. He was actually pretty curious, sniffing at everything. He even "marked his territory" once or twice. I was going to have to fix that. Then my sister came down. Trea glanced at the platypus, looked at me, and said "I haven't had my coffee yet, have I?" "Nope," I replied, smothering laughter. Trea always looked insanely odd when she was transforming from angel to devil. Especially when she hadn't brushed her hair yet.

Herman squeaked suddenly. I looked down to see his sharp little teeth gnawing on the bathroom wall. I sighed. This was going to be a long day.

This Is A Completely Made Up Post. Have Fun!

Yesterday. A day I will forever remember fondly. Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.

It started out normally enough. I was sleeping in my bedroom. All of a sudden, my ninja clock went off. It started to karate chop me and beep shrilly. I finally found the snooze button, after chasing it all around the room, it's maniacal laughter audible throughout the house. I walked into my sister's room to find her still asleep in her cage. She was such an angel when she was asleep. Literally. She had a halo and everything. It was only when she was awake that the red tail snaked out of her back, twitching eagerly, and the horns materialized in her thick, curly dark hair. Red and brown actually wasn't such a bad combination...

I went downstairs, leaving the devil-child to her usual dreams of maiming people and stealing their souls. Everything in the house was already awake, and angry. My dog barked at me, sending his golden coins all across the room as he made for me to give me a big sloppy kiss. The toaster oven was sighing again. "Clara, must you insist on having that frightful alarm clock? It always startles me out of a peaceful sleep, and then I cannot perform properly. I insist you get rid of it this instant!" All across the kitchen the appliances and animals were agreeing... heartily. "Hey, hey, you guys!" I managed to calm them down, somewhat. "The ninja is one of us too. Be nice, will you? Remember when you first came here? Remember how everyone else welcomed you into the family, and was nice to you, and now look. You're all friends. Think of how the ninja feels. The minute I bring him home you are all suspicious because he's not a "classic" like you! Just because he's not twenty years old doesn't mean he isn't as good. We need to make him feel welcome."

Everyone agreed, reluctantly. I shook out my hair, feeling it snap into it's usual position after a troubled sleep. I tried to comb it with my mind, but I could only get the left side tamed before I got dizzy. I guess the mental effort was more than it seemed. Oh well. I grudgingly took the hair brush offered to me by my cat, and wandered into the bathroom. That was when I got my first surprise of the day, though it certainly wasn't my last.

On the rug, between the Jacuzzi and the sauna, was an enormous present, wrapped in gold paper that reflected the daylight. Practically blinded, I groped around for the card to see who it was for. Finally finding it, I opened up the modest card, which was just a manila square folded in half. Opening the thick, creamy paper, I was suddenly showered in confetti. I opened my mouth to gasp in surprise, but the confetti went it it immediately. This was my second surprise. The little pieces of (seemingly) paper floating around were edible! They tasted delicious, like raspberries and sweet cream. No, it was more like the best ice cream in the world now. And now it was pizza. The flavors just kept changing.

When my head had cleared enough to remember where I was, I looked down at the card. No longer the plain manila it had been before, it was now covered in swirling, moving pictures. They were simple ink drawings, but I think that's what made them beautiful. The card was addressed to me!

Come back tomorrow to find out what happens... and what is with that huge golden box?

Yes, that is a shameless attempt to get more people to read my blog. I just hope it works. XD