I’ve Lived Here a Year

Originally published on July 13th, 2017

Technically when this post goes up I’ll have lived here for a year and two weeks, but as of writing this, I have lived here for exactly a year. A year ago I finished packing up all the boxes, swam in the pool for the last time, and danced with one of my best friends in the living room before saying goodbye. A year ago my mom and I drove with our dog in the back of the car and tried to find the right road again after stopping to get some incredibly salty french fries. A year ago I trudged up the stairs of my grandparents’ house with a black suitcase before going back down the stairs to sleep in my mom’s room instead.

So much can change in a year, and the last twelve months have proved over and over again that that is true. It’s hard to start over, but in my experience it’s been worth it. Moving was good for me, even if it meant going through a lot of hard stuff to get to the good stuff. Because even though the hard stuff was definitely there, this year was so good, and I am thankful for every part of it.

~ 205 words

Why I Return to the Same Place Twice

Originally published on July 09th, 2017

On June 25th of last year, my mom and I took a day trip to Mendocino, California. I had gone the previous October and had later realized that one of our favorite shows, Murder, She Wrote, had been partially filmed there. Because of this revelation, I decided that I would eventually go back, and luckily my mom also thought that was a wonderful idea. 

While we were there, I showed her some of my favorite things from my first visit. This included an introduction to mushroom ice cream (I stand by my belief that it has a weaker coffee flavor), a lot of beautiful pictures, and a glimpse into a small town. That day is one of my favorite memories with my mom, so when we were planning our summer trips for this year, I was happy that she also wanted to go back. 

On July 05th of this year, we made the return to Mendocino. First, we said goodbye to my best friend after she stayed over for the fourth of July, and then we headed off. We drove past a giant lake and through a forest of redwoods before finally reaching our destination. Of course, we had to stop at Jessica Fletcher's house to say hello, but then we went over to the Mendocino Highlands where I took the picture below (as well as many others). After staring at the beauty of the ocean we walked over the ice-cream place where we were sorely disappointed to discover that they were closed for the day. Sigh, no mushroom ice-cream this time. We went to a bookstore and walked around some more before getting back in the car and driving home. It was only a day trip, but wonderful memories came out of it. 

So why did I want to return to a place I've already been? As someone who is constantly dreaming of visiting new places, I sometimes wonder why my strong sense of nostalgia still manages to pull me back to old favorites. I guess it's for the same reason I look at my old books and journals- I want to see how I've changed. Last year when we went to Mendocino, everything was about to change. We visited only about four days before we moved, and that led to a year of almost constant change. Going back allowed me to reflect on those changes and what I've learned from them. It's why I want to go back to Mendocino again soon, and also why I want to return to St. Paul's Cathedral in London and the Scottish Highlands in Scotland. Things have changed so much since I last visited those places. 

I love to travel, and I love seeing new things. I love visiting new places and experiencing what those places have to offer. Even so, I will always leave some time in my adventures to revisit old places. I need the chance to reflect, and a little nostalgia never hurt anyone. 

When the Twelve Year Old Asks a Question

Originally published on July 06th, 2017

At the end of last year, I was one of five Juniors who taught the sixth-grade class baptismal studies. I got baptized when I was twelve, but I never finished the classes. Because of this and my background in the Adventist church, my approach was slightly, er, different than that of the other teachers. While we were told to stand above the students and speak out to them, I opted to sit at their level and ask a lot more questions (they didn't always answer, but that's beside the point). 

There was one kid who sat in the middle. He kept his hat on and was known for asking "too many" questions. In fact, before I even went inside, I was told not to encourage him to talk too much because he would take up the whole time with an irrelevant story. Sure enough, as soon as he got a chance to speak, he jumped into a spirited tale about what his weekend had been like. While his teacher and the head pastor tried to bring the conversation back to the topic at hand, I smiled knowing that at least one of us seemed happy to be there and happy to tell a story. 

On my second and last day of teaching, I was talking about baptism in particular and how it is a choice we all should make for ourselves. By this point, all of the students knew that I had been baptized on my birthday and that my main reason for wanting to be baptized at the age of twelve was so I could be baptized on my birthday. About halfway through the lesson, the kid who kept his hat on and asked "too many questions" raised his hand. Grateful for a chance to listen to someone else's voice, I called what I hoped was his name (two days is not enough time to learn fifteen names). He opened his mouth, closed it again, and paused. When he opened his mouth again, out came a question that almost reduced me to tears (and we all know how much I hate crying):

"What if you got baptized when you were younger and it was your parents' decision? Can you get rebaptized?"

The head pastor started to say something, but I promptly stood up and started talking. I try really hard not to interrupt people with my own thoughts, but as this was a question I myself had asked and I felt it was important to answer it (also I could tell what the pastor was going to say and I wanted to avoid that). I looked at him and said "I've asked myself that same question so many times. I got baptized when I was twelve but looking back on it now I honestly wish I'd waited at least a couple more years. Not because I didn't think I was ready, but because I felt like I had learned so much since getting baptized. That's the thing, though, getting baptized isn't the end, but the beginning. You can certainly get rebaptized if you want *cue head pastor's mouth at mid gasp*, but you can also simply make the decision to start over. You can make that decision anytime you want." (by the way, when reading what I said you may want to put some pauses, "ums", and deep breaths to make it more realistic). 

The other pastor that was there interjected and basically restated what I had said, so that was a nice form of validation for me. Even so, the main thing I've taken away from this experience is to listen to the people you're told not to listen to. They probably have millions of good ideas and billions of things to say that you could connect with. It's highly possible that, like me, you find someone going through the exact same thing you were going through a year ago and you'd never have been able to say anything had you not listened to them in the first place. We can all gain something from hearing what other people have to say, even if it's only a recap of how their weekend was. But no matter what it is, and whether or not we can connect to it or help in any way, when the twelve year old asks a question, we should listen. 

Spanish Mugs & Church Bells

Originally published on July 02nd, 2017

One of my favorite things to do in the morning is drink coffee outside on the porch.  I'll admit I don't do this as often as I would like, but whenever I do I find that I'm much more peaceful than I would have been otherwise. I especially love doing this on Sunday mornings. There is a church near my house and on Sunday mornings the church bells ring out loud and clear. I can sit there with my coffee and listen to the bells and watch the squirrels dance through the trees. It's a peaceful time, and I know I need to do it more.

When I gave my speech to become the Religious Vice President (RVP), my main point was that I wanted to make sure that everyone was able to connect with God in the way they needed to, but also that no one felt that they had to.  This got me thinking about how church tends to work, and how I have been affected by it. 

On paper, here is what I look like in the eyes of the church:

- has attended Adventist schools since preschool

- went to church consistently until the age of fifteen

- was baptized at the age of twelve

- went to church camp from the ages of nine to thirteen

- taught baptismal classes to sixth graders

- is the religious vice president at her school 

- will probably go to an Adventist college

- will probably work at a church camp during college

My biggest problem with church is that the above list is considered important. It doesn't seem to matter that even though I have attended Adventist schools my whole life I still thought about leaving, and I will probably send my future kids to public schools. I wish I had gotten baptized later than I did, and that's what I told the sixth graders I taught. I'm the religious vice president because I want people to be able to see God however they feel they need to instead of forcing everyone into a box. It's the box I'm trying to avoid. 

What if instead of going to church on Saturday mornings I sit on the porch and drink coffee and listen to the church bells? What if I like the idea of lighting a candle in a church but don't really want to listen to sermons? What if sometimes all I want to do is sit and be quiet instead of talk about religion, but other times all I want to do is talk about beliefs? If I've learned anything in my experience in the Adventist church (actually, just church in general) it is that no one connects with God in the same way, and no one connects with God the same way every time. Right now, I am content to drink coffee out of Spanish mugs and listen to church bells. 

Books I’ve Read & Places I’ve Loved

Originally published on June 29th, 2017

The fact that it's almost July is crazy. It's already the second month of my summer vacation, and honestly, I'm amazed I've made it this far. June was definitely one of the hardest months of the year so far. I made plans that went unfulfilled, I started books that went unfinished, and I studied for tests that went unpassed (not a word, I know, but just for alliteration's sake). 

BOOKS I'VE READ

I hate to say this, but I didn't read any books this month. I started one, but it still remains unfinished on my bedside table. Like I mentioned above, this month was tough, but I have a few books I'm excited to read for July, so hopefully the end of next month will see me having read at least one of them :-). 

PLACES I'VE LOVED

Elk Grove Public Library

On the second day of my vacation, my mom had to go to the library for a work thing. I tagged along with her because I love libraries and there was the promise of coffee afterward (am I easy to sway? Probably...). While there, I sat at one of the wooden tables and worked on some of the things I posted this month and watched as lots of people came through to get books. Like I said, I love libraries but I hadn't been to one in a couple years. It was a great way to spend a Tuesday morning. 

Last year, July was the hardest month. I was going through a whole bunch of stuff, so in a way I was almost expecting this year to be the same. Oddly enough, June ended up being tough. Luckily, I have many traveling plans, writing ideas, and friends to see for next month. If your June was also kind of difficult, I hope July brings you lots of sunshine (but not a lot of heat because goodness gracious it's hot right now...). 

Environmentally Friendly Balloon

Originally published on June 24th, 2017

Be bright.
Spread your color into the world and don’t ever let it go.
Be unapologetically yourself.

Be above.
When people belittle others and throw hate and disgust at your doorstep, rise above.
Return with kindness and honesty, and don’t let the world deflate you.

Be grounded.
Think things through before floating away too quickly.
Stay close enough to the earth so you can help lift others higher.

Be well rounded.
Listen to different opinions on the same argument; 
be strong enough to share your own.

Be an environmentally friendly balloon,
they have more to teach us than we may think. 

Sunshine & People

Originally published on June 22nd, 2017

Last week at 10:00 on Friday night, I got a message from my best friend asking me what I do to cheer myself up. Without thinking, I wrote back "watch Friends, make lists of things that make me happy, buy flowers." As I was falling asleep, I found it funny how even in a tired state I was so used to doing things that would get me out of a bad mood that I could tell my friend what they were in a matter of seconds. The thing is, I am a very anxious person. I have days where I feel really off, and I have days where I'm so happy I could run forever. 

This should go without saying, but I love feeling happy. I smile more, talk more, and laugh more. But you know what I love more than feeling happy? Feeling happy after not feeling happy for a long time. Oddly enough, knowing this about myself has helped me through those stages when I'm not really feeling like myself. Whenever I go through a period of feeling anxious, sad, or generally unhappy, I remind myself of how incredibly good feeling happy will be in just a little while. 

A few years ago, I wasn't able to see past the present in terms of how I was feeling. Now, I'm much better at knowing that a bout of sadness isn't a lifetime of sadness. So for now I'm going to watch Friends, make lists of things that make me happy, and buy flowers. I'll walk in the sunshine and make plans with the people I love because I know that this day, this week, this month is just that. It's not a lifetime, and I'm okay.

The Time I Was Stranded on a Lake

Originally published on June 15th, 2017

I really like telling stories. Since I'm now on summer vacation, I'm not doing much. This means that I don't have a lot of new things to say, but instead spend lots of time reading old journals and notebooks. Because of this, I am reminded of things that have happened that could make good stories. The story about the time I was stranded on a lake in a canoe is one such story. 

This story takes place in the early fall of 2013 when I was thirteen about to turn fourteen. I was visiting my dad during the weekend of "church at the lake," an annual event where his church is moved outdoors by a lake. This was my first time attending, and since I had recently become friends with a few of the girls who lived there, I was looking forward to it. When we arrived, I discovered that one of the church members had brought some of the kayaks and one of the canoes that he owned. One of my friends who had been attending the event for a long time was thrilled, and invited me to join her on one of the two person kayaks while three of our other friends rode beside us in the canoe. 

It was soon revealed how little experience I had in using kayaks, and by "little experience," I mean that I had absolutely zero. From what I can remember, I had never been in a kayak before, and if I had I'm pretty sure I was too young to row. Because of this, I could tell that my friend was starting to grow frustrated with my difficulty, and didn't like the fact that she was pretty much rowing all by herself. In the center of the lake, there was a small island where we stopped with the three girls from the canoe to take a break before rowing back. After a few minutes of reapplying sunscreen and dipping our toes in the water, me and two other girls discovered that the girl I'd rowed over with and one of the other girls from the canoe had taken the kayak and were quickly moving their way towards shore. 

Needless to say, I was worried. Out of the two girls I was left with, one was around the age of seven, and the other was, well, too distracted by other things to really notice the predicament we had been left in. As I looked out at the distance between the island and the shoreline, I tried to find a way to get back without actually having to row. The three options I could think of were to, 1) call someone to come get us on the boat, 2) swim back, and 3) just live on the island until someone noticed we were gone. Unfortunately, out of the three phones we had with us, one was waterlogged, one had died, and the other wasn't receiving any service. As for swimming back, I have a weird thing with fish and didn't like the idea of swimming in water I couldn't see the bottom of. Also we weren't sure how deep is was, and the youngest girl didn't know how to swim anyway and the thought of pulling someone along seemed worse than figuring out how to row. Our only other option seemed to be waiting for someone to come get us. Even so, no one was looking at the lake. Even from the great distance you could see that people were mostly congregated over by the food or under the gazebo, and it didn't seem likely that anyone would assume we were all stuck. So, we all piled into the canoe, and tried to row our way back. Does it sound like we were no longer stranded? Ha, the story is far from over. 

At first, everyone seemed to be going fine. The force from me pushing the canoe out into the lake before jumping in quickly seemed to propel it a fairly good distance. Me and the girl who was still slightly distracted each look of the oars, and slowly began our way to shore. Soon, we reached the middle of the lake. It was at this point that things began to grow worse. We had already been gone for over an hour, and the two girls who had left us had been back for a considerable amount of time. I still don't understand why no one noticed that three girls had still not returned, and if they did I'm not sure why no one stopped to wonder why/come rescue us. Either way, it was obvious we were going to have to reach shore by ourselves. We continued trying to row, but unfortunately me and the other girl were too out of synch. When I rowed one direction, she went the other. After a couple moments, I realized we weren't moving forward at all- we were simply traveling in a wide, awkward circle.

It was at this moment that the seven year old had the idea to pray. Here's the thing, I'm not the kind of person to say that prayer won't really work but instead our work will get us out of the situation. In fact, I'm quite the opposite. I believe very strongly in prayer, however in that moment I was both frustrated and slightly angry at the fact that one of the girls insisted on rowing the wrong way (she was unintentionally moving us closer to the island). Even so, I was "elected" to pray ("your dad is the pastor so you're good at it" side note: don't make a pastor's kid pray just because of who their parent is...), and so I rambled off something about wanting to get back to shore quickly, said amen, and then resumed rowing. 

So here's part of the story that I didn't learn until the drive home that night: a few people actually had noticed that three girls hadn't returned, and some even noticed that we were struggling with the canoe. Someone had volunteered to come get us, but that was at the moment when it looked like we were moving the right direction. Everyone decided that we were okay and let us continue, but later when they looked out again, we were farther away. It was at the moment that three of the church members got into some of the single person kayaks and made their way over to our canoe. By the time this happened, we had someone managed to get to roughly ten feet away from shore (I still have no idea how we managed to do this). Luckily, we were close enough that all they had to do was toss the end of a rope towards us, and then pull us to shore. 

This story took place about four years ago, but I still laugh to myself every time I think about it. No, I still haven't been a kayak or a canoe since that day, but it still remains one of my favorite memories to look back on. Not because it was a good experience or anything, but simply because it's a fun story to tell. Anyways, I hope you liked it, even if it strangely doesn't serve any real purpose or have anything to learn from :-) Well, not yet anyway... 

This is the same lake, but roughly four years later. The small island we stopped at is off to the left :-) 

For I myself shall like this decay

Originally published on June 11th, 2017

There is a song by the band Bastille called Poet. I was introduced to this song earlier this year and it instantly reminded me of a poem written by the sixteenth-century poet named Edmund Spenser (British Literature ruined me...) simply entitled Sonnet #75. The poem goes like this:

One day I wrote her name upon the strand,

But came the waves and washed it away:

Again I write it with a second hand,

But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.

Vain man, said she, that doest in vain assay,

A mortal thing so to immortalize,

For I myself shall like to this decay,*

And eek my name be wiped out likewise.

Not so, (quod I) let baser things devise

To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:

My verse, your virtues rare shall eternize,

And in the heavens write your glorious name.

Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,

Our love shall live, and later life renew.

Basically, this guy writes this girl's name in the sand and then the ocean washes it away because that's what the ocean does. He then writes her name again, and she's like "you weirdo, the ocean is always going to wash it away" and then she gets all morbid and is like "also I'm gonna die one day so maybe stop writing my name in the sand." But then Spenser says that because she's dating a poet she should realize that there will be poems about her and that she'll live forever in his writings blah blah blah beautiful stuff. 

Anyway, the chorus of Bastille's song goes like this: I have written you down/ you will live forever/ and all the world will read you/ you will live forever. Can you see the similarities? Like I said, when I heard the song I instantly remembered the poem, and promptly sent it to the person who showed me the song. This person didn't find the connection as exciting as I did, but it's possible that I seek these connections out (though it should be noted that I just looked it up, and the song actually was based on the poem, so...) 

I love this poem, and I love this song, but for a while it was hard to read and hard to listen to. I really don't want to say too much, but let's just say having Scout (my guinea pig who died a few months ago) around would have been greatly appreciated. Still, this morning when I clicked shuffle on my music and Poet started to play, I didn't skip it. Am I completely okay? Not at all; actually I'm not entirely sure what I am at this point. But I think that's what summer is for. At this point, all of you know that I tend to find things to learn in every experience, and that I chase personal growth. Summer, though it hasn't ever been my favorite season, has always been a time of reflection for me. A time to reflect on the past year, and a time to look ahead to the year in front of me. A time to read poetry and listen to music and to know that whatever happens, I'm okay. I'm happy with where I am, and that is enough. 

*I used this as the title because the first time I read it I thought it was the funniest thing. I'm not entirely sure why, but it must have had something to do with the thought of this girl having her name be written in sand, and then saying "nope, I'm going to decay anyways." 

For a Reason

Originally published on June 07th, 2017

I am a firm believer in the idea that everyone comes into our lives for a reason. As someone who moved before my Freshman year and then again before this past year, this idea is very special to me. As this school year has come to a close, I have been thinking about it a lot. Technically, I am now a senior (!!!), but this means that the seniors from last year are no longer around all the time. I spent a lot of my time this year with a few of the senior girls, as I connected with them better than with my own class at first. The problem with being friends with seniors is that at the end of the year, they have to leave. Throughout all of last year, the knowledge that at the end of the year they would leave was always in the back of my mind. 

From the end of April to last week, there were so many events and moments that made me realize just how much these people have impacted my life and also just how much I am going to miss them. From music tour, to the Junior/Senior banquet, to their graduation, I have been constantly reminded of the intelligence, beauty, strength, and amazingness that is my friends. 

These girls were in my life for a reason. They have all brought more laughter, conversation, and kindness into my life and I will be forever grateful. When I moved, the thing I wanted most was to be known as someone who was kind and willing to help anyone who needed it. I wanted to be known as that person at my old school too, but like I've said before, I think I was known by most people as the "blonde who used to be in drama and then quit." When I started at the school I'm at now, I was able to become the person I wanted to be because I was surrounded by the same kinds of people. People who built me up and encouraged me to do and be better.  People who would set aside their own stuff to be there for me. People who have the biggest hearts I've ever known. Words truly cannot express how thankful I am for this past year, but I've tried. I wholeheartedly believe that they were all placed in my life for a reason, and I know that I am better off for it. They have changed my life for good, and I hope they know just how much I mean that.

Books I’ve Read & Places I’ve Loved: May 2017

Originally published on June 01st, 2017

May has officially come to a close, and with it brings the end of my Junior year. Because this month was spent studying for finals and my written driving test, and the end of the school year in general, I wasn't able to read as much as I would have liked. Even so, I read a couple  of great books and was able to visit some pretty special places as well. 

BOOKS I'VE READ

Eighteen Years by Madisen Kuhn

I discovered this book a few months ago, and my original plan had been to buy it as a birthday present to myself this coming October (18th birthday, Eighteen Years, it makes sense...), but then I realized I have very little self control when it comes to books and bought it about five months early.

Whoops.

Still, this book is beautiful. It's poetry, so I read it very quickly, but it's still one of the most beautiful collections of poetry I own. It's very honest and vulnerable, and it was able to put words to the many things I've been feeling in the last month. I highly, highly, highly recommend reading this book or at least following the author on Instagram (@madisenkuhn). 

The Essential Neruda edited by Mark Eisner

For my Spanish II class this semester, we had to do a project where we did at least two things that worked with Spanish vocabulary, reading Spanish, writing Spanish, or doing something related to Spanish culture. I chose to write a research paper and read this book of poetry. I've never included a book I've read for school in one of these, but I loved this so much I had to. Since this was the bilingual version, the left side was in the original Spanish and the right side was translated into English. What I found while reading it is that Spanish poetry has a way of expressing what I'm feeling better than English poetry. I'm really sure why, but it does. I'd definitely recommend reading poetry in another language to see if it has the same affect on you. 

PLACES I'VE LOVED

My First Junior/Senior Banquet

Technically this picture was taken by my brother in my backyard before I left because all the pictures I got of the actual place are with other people and I wasn't sure if they'd be okay with having a picture of them up here. Still, the Junior/Senior banquet was one of my favorite parts of this month. I got to wear a dress that made me feel like Cinderella, take lots of my pictures with some of my favorite people, and just have a really great night before the craziness of finals started. 

Hidden Falls, CA

The weekend before finals hit and graduation weekend, one of my best friends and I took a Saturday afternoon and went hiking. We talked about everything from current stresses to our future plans, and I think we definitely grew closer than we already had. Over the past month, I've had many good moments in days, but few good days. This day that I spent in nature with one of my favorite people was a good day. 

May was a whirlwind. For me, it happened in a blink of an eye due to so much happening in such a short amount of time. Now that it's June, I hope you are all close to having a period of time where you can relax or at least breathe a little easier. Hopefully you can all have a month filled with good books, good people, and good memories. 

Not Just Beowulf & Chemistry: 3 Things I Learned My Senior Year

Originally published on May 28th, 2017

Technically, my Junior year is not over.  However, considering that it will be over in only a few days, I have put together a list of things I learned during my Junior Year. 

1. Being the new kid is hard.

When I made the decision to go to the school that I'm going to, I also made the decision to not go to the school where I knew someone. I chose to not go to that school simply because I liked the campus of my school better (it had a good vibe), and I didn't know the other girl very well anyway. However, on August 18th at around 8:00 a.m., knowing someone even a little bit would have been appreciated. It took me a long time to find my place, but once I did I was okay. Being the new kid is hard, but I'm so glad I did it. I was thinking a couple days ago that I have never been that terrified since, but I'm sure there will be moments in the future when that pit of dread in my stomach will return. I am a firm believer in everything happening for a reason, and I'm positive that I needed the experience of being new to be able to do whatever scary thing I will one day accomplish. 

2. Asking for help is hard, but necessary. 

Especially when it comes to the classes that aren't your favorite. All of you know how much I didn't like Chemistry, but when I finally got the help I needed, it wasn't as bad. If I could go back and change one thing about this year, it would be asking for help much sooner. Of course, this isn't just a lesson for the academic side of school. There were times when I had to ask for help because I was feeling so anxious about something and needed someone to listen, or tell me if something I wrote made any sense, or sometimes just a hug. I hate asking for help, I really do, but I had to do that a lot this year, and even though I don't like it any more than I have in the past, I've learned that sometimes it really is necessary, and that you don't need to hold everything by yourself. 

3. Trying new things is important. 

This school year happened to be the year where I tried a lot of new things, and I definitely think that contributed to this year being as amazing as it was. Because of trying new things, I learned how to roller skate, I learned how to audition for musicals, I learned to not throw up before delivering a speech, and so many other things. Actually, this whole year was just one big new thing. I had never gone to a new school where I didn't know anyone (okay, that's not entirely true, but I had never had my first day at a new school where I didn't know anyone), and like I said earlier, I'm sure that the fact I was able to do that will one day be an important skill (skill?) to have. 

When I started my Junior year, I was of the mindset that everyone who said it was the hardest year of high school was just over exaggerating. It definitely wasn't as hard as people made it seem, but it was hard. However, it was also wonderful. As the year draws to a close, I can honestly say that I am happy. Everything that has happened since last August has shaped me in some way, shape, or form, and I'm thankful for that. I can already tell that so much is going to change next year, but honestly? I'm excited for it. I'm not as afraid of change as I used to be, and maybe that's the fourth thing I learned this year: Change is scary, but it's also good. You don't have to be afraid of it. Change, with all of its possible problems and heartache, can bring such happiness into our lives. I've gained a lot of happiness and clarity this year, and I can't wait to see what happens next. 

I’m Sorry But I’m Feeling Nostalgic

Originally published on May 21st, 2017

On August 18th of last year, I was late to my first British Literature class. I was also late to my AP Language and Composition class, which happened to be taught by the same teacher. For about a month I was convinced that said teacher thought I was destined to be late for everything, even though I was only late those two times. 

Until May 18th. Thursday of last week. 

My first class was optional that day because the day before we had taken the AP test and my teacher was giving us a break. So, my mom and I decided to walk to Starbucks, get some coffee, and then go to school. This plan would have been perfect had I not decided to spend three hours watching Parks and Rec the night before which led to me waking up an hour later than planned. I scrambled to get ready and spent the walk back from Starbucks panicking about being late for British Literature. When I got to school, I signed in at the office, jumped over backpacks in the hallway, and opened the door to the classroom only to see dozens of eyes stare up at me. 

Flashback to my first day, I very vividly remember walk/running from the gazebo (ahh, the blessed gazebo) to the classroom and opening the door. When I stepped into the room, dozens of eyes looked up at me and I felt my heart and stomach switch places- at least that's what it felt like. I'm sure it was only about two seconds, but it felt like a good minute and a half before someone motioned to an empty seat and I hurried to sit down. It was then that my teacher had an idea. It was an idea that would make taking attendance much easier. It was also an idea that quickly became my worst nightmare. I had just situated myself next to two complete strangers when the voice of my teacher said:

"When I call your name please stand up so I know you're here." 

Again, my heart and stomach seemed to switch places. 

I sat in my seat, dreading the moment I knew was coming soon. The projector showed the computer screen on the whiteboard and you could see the names of everyone in the class. From the table next to me, I heard a voice whisper "who's Claira Eastwood?" I slowly raised my hand to her and tried to smile. Soon, I heard my teachers voice call my name and I stood up, my gray skirt seeming like a bad idea as I tried to straighten myself up. Being the only one standing, I felt very front and center, and it was obvious that I was new, unknown, and unfamiliar. 

Back to where we left off on May 18th, nine long months later. I was standing in the doorway with my caramel macchiato in one hand, notebook in the other, looking out at the sea of eyes staring up at me. As I made my way over to my seat, I pulled out my copy of Frankenstein, and smiled to myself. I was no longer new, unknown, or unfamiliar. In fact, the yearbooks were passed out that day and I have never felt more like I belonged somewhere. 

Last Thursday, I reposted an essay I wrote when I had to get new shoes. I was sad about losing my gray shoes and replacing them because it felt like the end of an era. So many things had changed in the previous few months, and I didn't like the fact that my everyday pair of shoes had to change as well. Even so, as I read the essay the last paragraph struck me. It says: "Change isn't easy for anyone, and in many cases, it comes with feelings of loss. Whether you're moving or starting something new, change feels like a loss of the familiar. But sometimes the unfamiliar isn't a bad thing. Just like the purple shoes, it makes room for new memories, experiences, and adventures. It gives you a chance to become something different or expand on who you already are. It can fix the holes and clean the dirt and make you feel new and fresh. Sure, it's still scary and you need to break yourself in a little bit, but eventually, you'll look back on when everything was scary and different and realize that the blister is gone. You're comfortable and happy where and who you are."

This year has been one for new memories, experiences, and adventures. I have met people that will be friends for life, and I have changed in so many ways for the better. I had to break my way in, and the blister may have lasted for a while, but it is certainly gone now. I am comfortable and happy with where and who I am. 

The Time Our Bus Broke Down

Originally published on May 14th, 2017

Okay, so technically it just overheated. Still, on the journey home from my school's music tour, we found ourselves at a somewhat deserted gas station for about four hours. We left our hotel at around 10:00 in the morning, and after our first rest stop, the bus had to stop a second time because it was overheating. We were stuck on the side of the road for about half an hour, and then the bus driver decided it was okay and we could keep going. About an hour later, however, she stopped again, this time saying the bus was leaking coolant and was too overheated to continue. We were on the side of the road again for about 45 minutes to an hour, and, I'm not going to lie, about half way through I started to get frustrated. I was texting with my mom and kept thinking about how all I wanted was to just be home in my own room in my own bed. Finally, we began to drive incredibly slowly for about a mile until we reached that somewhat deserted gas station I mentioned earlier. 

Since the music department at my school is so large, we had to take two busses. Because only one of those busses was overheated (the one I was on), some of the people were able to continue on home. The rest of us, however, were stuck. We were given money to get food at the gas station, and then told to stay congregated around the overheated bus. 

After we got food, I found myself sitting with a group of people on the pavement looking out at the sunset. All things considered, the situation wasn't actually that bad. A mechanic was on their way to fix the old bus, and a new bus was on it's way to pick us up and take us home. Still, we were stuck in the middle of the central valley with no concrete idea of when the new bus was going to arrive. Even so, I ended up sitting with a group of people singing and laughing for the four hours we were stuck. At one point, I just kind of sat back and looked out at all the people who were there. We were all in our little groups, but at the same time we were all still together in a way. The bus overheating and our gas station dinner wasn't expected, and it wasn't necessarily what any of us had planned on doing. Still, we made the best out of the situation. Some people had ukuleles, playing cards, and fully charged phones, so we definitely weren't bored.

I love my school, and this is one of the reasons why. We were able to turn an unfortunate experience into one of the best moments of the entire tour. The songs we sang, the laughs that escaped, and the mutual joy we all had when we saw that new bus pull up made me realize just how happy I am that I moved and came to this new school. It's crazy how the oddest circumstances can show us how happy we are to be somewhere, but it's definitely the truth. The people that you're surrounded by can make or break an experience, and in this case I was with some really cool people. I got really lucky this year, even if I was one of the people who had to stay and wait for the new bus ;-). 

Yes I am aware that I've posted this before, but it's the only one I took while we were there :-) 

One of My Favorite Memories

Originally published on May 11th, 2017

Last week when my school was talking about the upcoming music tour (that we will have already been on when you're reading this...), I remembered one of my favorite memories. I was a 15-year-old Freshman on my very first music tour, and my school at the time was staying in a school gym in Armona, California. The school happened to have a swing set, and one of my best friends and I decided that after dinner we would go try them out. 

So, after we finished a dinner of spaghetti using phone flashlights as a dim light, we moved over to the playground. We jumped onto this swings, and I divulged a secret to her that I had been keeping for four months ("YOU WAITED FOUR MONTHS TO TELL ME?!"). That secret led to a night of telling each other almost everything. We had known each other less than a year, and had only gone to school together for about eight months, but that night I realized that she would always be one of my best friends. We sat on the swings listening to music from her phone while we talked, and eventually walked over to the grassy field where we sat on the grass and stared at the stars for a while. Of course, being a field, there were many thistles when we stood up, but that didn't really matter. 

It's such a small story, but that day has remained one of my favorite memories ever since. The smell of distant cows wasn't a problem, and the thistles that followed us home were like funny reminders of the inside jokes that have lasted until now. We live about two and a half hours away from each other now, but the inside jokes, memories, and stories have continued. I think that when you find a friend who you can connect with so quickly and so strongly, you do whatever you can to make sure that friendship lasts. I love thinking back on this story, not only because it's a funny memory in many ways, but also because it reminds me of why I'm still friends with her. I didn't have great friendships until I got to high school, but I owe many of the friends I have now to her because she's the one who not only introduced me to a lot of people, but also put me in situations where I would get to know them better. I'm very thankful for this friendship, and the many others that I have acquired over the last three years. 

A different swing set that we found the next day 

Apparently, No One is “Ready”

Originally published on May 07th, 2017

My choir teacher and Les Mis director emails us to let us know important information quite often. At the end of every email, there is a quote from Daniel Handler that says "If we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives." Every time I read this, I wonder how many times I've ignored or completely avoided doing something simply because I didn't feel "ready." It's almost the end of April, and with that comes the beginning of May, which eventually turns into the end of the school year. Next year, I will be a senior in high school. Over the course of this year, many current seniors have told me that they didn't necessarily feel like seniors until they had to. Most said that until you're a senior yourself, you don't necessarily feel old enough, smart enough, or just... enough. They said you don't have to feel ready to be ready, but that by the time you have to be, you are. 

Last July, I started the process of getting my driver's license. It took me a good seven months to actually complete the online driver's ed. course, but once I did, I began studying for the written test. If I want my license by the end of this year, I will need to take the test by the end of this month, yet I haven't made any appointments yet. When Les Mis ended, I was more upset than I thought I would be. This led to me searching for different theater projects that I could be a part of. Most of the websites that I found made the audition process seem terrifying, and I haven't booked anything yet. There's a Shakespeare Festival internship that I could do this summer, but I have a half-filled application that has yet to be sent. 

Before moving to the area I now live in, I had the option of attending one of two schools. The first school had a girl that I knew a little, and I didn't know anyone at the second school. About a month before school started, I made the decision to go to the school where I knew no one, based on a myriad of different things. This seemed like a good idea until August 18th, 2016- my first day. When my mom pulled into the parking lot and parked, I found myself slipping down in my seat. I don't think I have ever been that nervous in my entire life, but I knew that my future self needed me to be able to walk onto a campus where I didn't know anyone. She needed me to be able to do that so she could one day take her driving test, audition for things, and be a senior who knows what she's doing. 

I still have half-filled applications, study guides partially looked over, and a stomach filled with butterflies in anticipation for the year ahead, but maybe that's normal. Maybe, on some level, it's good to feel nervous about these things. Maybe the nerves and butterflies are signs that I care enough about the thing I'm about to do. Like I mentioned earlier, a few seniors have told me that they didn't feel ready until they just were. People in my life who drive have told me that they were nervous at first, and if you look up stories of famous actors and actresses, you'll find that the majority have shared an embarrassing moment in an audition or scene. Apparently, nerves are normal. Apparently, nerves are okay and good. Apparently, no one is "ready." I'm still very nervous about all that's ahead of me, but I also know that I am in no way alone in any of this. 

Books I’ve Read & Places I’ve Loved: April 2017

Originally published on May 04th, 2017

"Books I've Read & Places I've Loved" is a series where I talk about, yup, the books I've read and the places I've loved in a particular month (my titling skills are exquisite as we all know ;-)). 

GUYS!! APRIL IS OVER!! This month was INSANE. Many people in my family had birthdays, my school had our Les Mis performances and our music tour, and I managed to do some traveling (mostly the music tour...) and read a couple of books along the way! Needless to say, this month felt long, but it was also wonderful, and I'm very thankful for everything that happened. 

BOOKS I'VE READ

I Am Malala by Malala Yousafzai

This is a book that had been on my reading list for a while. I bought it MONTHS ago, and started it a while back as well. One night this month when I didn't have any homework, I read the first four parts (out of five), and then finished it the next morning. For anyone is isn't aware, Malala Yousafzai is the girl who was shot by the Taliban after speaking out about the right for education. Miraculously, she survived. She is the youngest person to ever win a Nobel Peace Prize, which she was awarded in 2014 alongside Kailash Satyarthi. She is now 19 and still fighting for the right for education. I couldn't help but underline the majority of this book, simply because it is so honest and heartbreaking yet hopeful and inspiring at the same time. I thought I would include some of my favorite quotes:

"At night, our fear is strong... but in the morning, in the light, we find our courage again." (pg. 65, ch. 10)

"'Isn't it a miracle you all happened to be here when Malala was shot?" my father said. "It is my belief that God sends the solution first and the problem later," replied Dr. Javid." (pg. 161, ch. 31)

""Truth will always triumph over falsehood." (pg. 164, ch. 31)

"What I'm finding is that we have much more in common than we have different, and every day we learn something new from one another." (pg. 181, ch. 33)

No Matter the Wreckage by Sarah Kay

Is it possible that the majority of my reading list this year has been poetry? Yes. Sarah Kay has been one of my favorite poets ever since I watched her TEDTalk and she performed "If I Should Have a Daughter," which has remained one of my favorite poems ever since. I had spent the last three trips to bookstores looking for this book, but alas, had not been able to find it. I was, however, able to find it on Amazon, and then found it in my Easter basket. My own way to explain this book is that it makes you feel emotions much more than you normally do. Some of my favorite poems from it are "Love Poem #137," "The First Poem in the Imaginary Book," "Montauk,"  "Brother," and "The Type." This is a book to savor. 

Mosquitoland by David Arnold

I don't even know where to begin with this book. The story is vivid, inviting, and easy to get lost in. The writing is witty, intelligent, and has an uncanny resembles to the voice of my best friend. The whole time I was reading, I couldn't help but see myself in the main character as well as who I wish I was. This book has earned a place on my list of favorite books not just because I loved the writing and the story, but because of the way it made me feel. Books like To Kill A Mockingbird and A Separate Peace are some of my favorite books because they make me feel more than other books do, and Mosquitoland did the same thing. 

PLACES I'VE LOVED

Los Angeles, CA

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love LA. I have since I was little, and even though I've never been exactly sure of why, I know that I'm always very happy while in this city. My school had it's music tour last week, and this picture was taken at Knottsberry Farm, where we performed on the Thursday. 

Ahmanson Theatre, Los Angeles

Technically, I'm breaking a rule by showing this picture, but if we all stay quiet about it I think it's okay ;-). On the Saturday night of the tour, we all had the opportunity to see Into The Woods, which was one of my favorite things about the five days I was away. Until Saturday, I didn't know anything about it, so I was very excited. The show was funny, made me think, and the songs have been stuck in my head ever since. 

The Middle of Nowhere, CA

What else happened this month? Let me think... Oh that's right! Our bus overheated and we were stranded for four hours! Good times, good times. I'm writing another bus all about that day in particular, so I'm not including too many details right now, but I will say that even though being stuck for a long time wasn't ideal, it has actually become one of my favorite memories. 

That's it! Happy May, everybody! Enjoy the rest of your month :-) 

A Reminder of Bravery

Originally published on April 23rd, 2017

When my Freshman year was drawing to a close, my brother and I took part in a couple studies at Stanford University. Well, I should say we attempted to take part in a couple studies. Neither of us ended up completeting them, but that is where this story comes in. 

I have three main memories of my experience at Stanford, but the one that stands out the most is the MRI simulator. The study required me to have an MRI scan so they could look at my brain to see how it reacted to certain things. I was put in the simulator (it was just an outdated MRI that didn't work) for what I think was half an hour, but for what felt like forever. I don't consider myself to be claustrophobic, but that is the closest I've ever come to feeling that way. When asked how they could make the simulator experience easier, the only thing I requested was that my mom always be present in the room with me. About halfway through, I thought I heard her leave, and instantly I could feel the panic set in. My time in the simulator felt both oddly short and excruciatingly long, if that makes any sense, but either way I was relieved when it was over. 

For some reason, I still agreed to continue with the study, and a short time later I found myself in the car on the drive back to Stanford. On the drive over, I was worried and anxious about what would happen. It wasn't the MRI that worried me, it was the fact that I would be answering questions and taking tests ("playing games") while inside. Another memory I have of the experience is the IQ test I had to take the first day, and that left me in tears thinking that I was stupid and somehow I had lost all ability to learn new information. Because of this, the anxiety over answering questions in a way I still didn't fully understand while in a confined space was hard to wrap my head around.

Once I got to where I needed to be, my mom and I were greeted by three people who had taken time out of their Friday to go through the whole thing with me. There was some issue with getting into the building, and while the three people went looking for a key or for someone else to let them in, I told my mom that I wasn't sure I wanted to go through with the MRI after all. This conversation continued in hushed whispers all the way to the room where I could see the MRI scanner through a glass window. It felt as though my stomach had switched places with my heart, and I could feel myself growing more anxious by the second. I was handed the scrubs I had to change into (this, by the way, was enough to make me nervous enough without the MRI), and I looked at my mom. I was then led out of the room and told that if I didn't want to go through it, I had to tell them myself because they had taken time out of their day for me and it wasn't fair if I didn't follow through. I knew this, but I also knew that I wasn't emotionally ready for what was required. For some reason, though, telling the three people behind the door next to me that I didn't want to continue was just as difficult.

If I remember correctly, it took me a good few minutes before I finally walked back in and said I was very sorry, but I didn't think I was going to be able to continue. Everyone was very kind and said they understood. I could feel myself beginning to cry, but was able to choke back the tears (as you know, I detest crying it public). This is when the woman who had been there when I went into the MRI simulator took a box from the desk by the wall and held it out to me. Inside were many small toys like the ones you would find at a dentist's office, and she motioned for me to take one. I picked up one of those wind up toys that hops when you let go. It was a blushing bumble bee that despite not being pink, always looks pink in my memory and I'm not sure why. After I had picked it up, the woman looked at me and said it was to remind me of a time when I had been brave enough to say what I needed. 

I'm not sure how much she knew about me or my life, but with those few words she changed how I have thought about the entire experience. I could look at it as a failure because I wasn't able to go through with something, but instead, every time I look at the not-pink-bumble bee that still sits on my desk, I look at it as a time when I was able to be brave enough to say what I needed. With those words, she also cut right through to some of the deepest parts of me. The part of myself that is too afraid to say anything for fear that it will disrupt someone else. The part of me that doesn't want to cause trouble or conflict. The part of me that isn't brave. 

This whole experience happened almost two years ago now, but like I've said, the not-pink-bumble bee still sits on my desk, right beside paper clips and post-it notes. Those parts of myself that are afraid of conflict are definitely still there, but I still have this strange toy as an odd symbol of courage. A reminder of a time when I wasn't afraid to say what I needed even though it disrupted things. A reminder of bravery. 

It's the weirdest thing, but I still love it. 

National Poetry Month

Originally published on April 16th, 2017

I recently learned that April is National Poetry Month in the United States. Considering the fact that I have been struggling to find something to write about, I thought it might be interesting to compile a list of my favorite poems. This list will include both traditional poems as well as spoken word (because why not). 

TRADITIONAL:

- Go For a Walk If It Is Not Too Dark (Hafiz)

- Hope Is The Thing With Feathers (Emily Dickinson)

- Laughter (Hafiz)

- Annabel Lee (Edgar Allen Poe)

- 7 billion people (rupi kaur)

- balance (rupi kaur)

- outlook (rupi kaur)

- [i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] (E.E. Cummings)

- I Wondered Lonely As a Cloud (William Wordsworth)

- She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways (William Wordsworth) 

- Sonnet 116 (Shakespeare)

SPOKEN WORD:

- If I Should Have a Daughter (Sarah Kay)

- Dreaming Boy (Sarah Kay)

- When Love Arrives (Sarah Kay & Phil Kaye)

- Table Games (Sarah Kay)

- Camaro (Phil Kaye)

- Beginning, Middle, and End (Phil Kaye)

- 9 Things I Would Like to Tell to Every Teenage Girl (Melissa Newman-Evans)

- Loving Like an Existentialist (Savannah Brown)

- i wish i was (a flaw examination) (Savannah Brown) 

What my floor looked like after I finished writing this... 

Too much? :-) 

Portland, Oregon

Originally published on April 02nd, 2017

At the end of my spring break and the beginning of hers, my mom and I drove to Portland, Oregon. We hadn't done a road trip in a while, and needless to say, I was happy to be traveling again. I hadn't been to Portland in SO LONG, and I hadn't been to Oregon since our road trip to Idaho when I was around ten (so seven years ago), and I was very excited. We left on a Friday afternoon, and returned the following Monday. It was a short trip, but definitely a good one. Here were some of my favorite moments:

Mt. Shasta (maybe)

On our way up, we stopped at a rest stop and I took this picture of Mt. Shasta (I think...). There was a very tall red fence in the way, so this picture was taken by holding my phone over my head and jumping while hoping with all my might that it would turn out okay. Also it was 39 degrees and windy and I wasn't wearing a jacket...

Powell's City of Books:

OH MY GOODNESS. OH. MY. GOODNESS. It was a city of books. I was thrilled. This elaborate bookstore had many floors, many sections, and what must have been thousands upon thousands upon thousands of books ranging from every topic imaginable. I came home with a book on Race, Class, and Gender in the United States (actually, it's a textbook. I didn't realize this until I got home), and another about acting and directing Shakespeare in the United States. I'm pretty sure I could just live in this bookstore, it was so incredible. 

A Coffee Tour:

My mom has a friend from college who does coffee tours in Portland, and we were lucky enough to go on one right before leaving the city. I learned that I still have yet to mature in my coffee tasting because everything tasted the same to me (sorry, everybody), and I also learned that I actually love public transportation. I don't know why, but I do. I also really love lattes with a slight taste of rose. 

The Portland Art Museum

We didn't stay here long, and most of our time was spent looking for the Impressionism (my favorite), but I still say it was worth it. Anytime I have the chance to go to an art museum, I'll take it. I'm not really an artist in the painting sense, but I still love being surrounded by it. 

Overall, I loved my road trip to Portland with my mom. We have more inside jokes and memories than we did before we left, and I was able to add another trip taken to my 2017 list. This small list of adventures didn't include the yellow daffodils that were on almost every road we drove on, the delicious ricotta on our pizza, or our teeth whitening experience, but those smaller things were probably my favorite parts. Thank you for the memories, Oregon, I hope I'll be back soon!