The Worst Part // Senior Survival (Part 3 of 7)

Originally published on September 21st, 2017

At the end of August, my class and I hiked seven miles into the middle of nowhere along the Rubicon trail. These seven essays are a collection of stories from those three days. 

In hindsight, I probably should have expected something to happen that was less than ideal. On our first full day in The Great Wide Middle of Nowhere, something happened that made us all think differently about the experience. What no one knew going into Senior Survival was that a few of the sponsors had the idea to stage an accident to see how we would react. They told us we were going on another hike and had us all get our stuff ready. Once my small bag was packed with granola bars and my camel pack, I sat next to a few other girls to help them get their stuff together. We heard a small voice in the distance, but ignored it because we figured it was one of the guys doing something we'd never fully understand anyway (you know, per the usual). It wasn't until we heard a sponsor call out "did any of you hear that?" and start running towards a nearby rock that the majority of our class began rushing in behind her. I held back a little but was soon joining the hoards of people. 

Before I continue, my thought process was as follows: "It has to be fake... everything seems so staged. But then why are all the sponsors running over?  Wait, is that.... no, they're okay. But no, some sponsors are moving slower, why would they be simply meandering over if this was real?" It was then that I actually saw the "accident" and when I realized who it was, I instantly turned around to make sure the people behind me (who would have been affected by this horribly if it had been real) were okay. We were led closer to the group of people, and, seemingly out of nowhere, I lost it. Even though at this point I knew it was fake, it was extremely difficult to see one of the guys in my class staged to look as though he'd somehow been caught under a rock and had been seriously injured. I burst into tears, and although I tried to turn away, I was only turned back to watch as my class (who all knew by this point it was fake) try to treat him as though it was real. 

If I had to pick one event in which our class was bonded more than the others, this would be it. When a small group of people in my class were able to lift him out and over to a clearing, we were all gathered into a circle to debrief what had happened. A few of us were still in a state of shock, me included. Our leader called attention to us, and pointed out that none of the sponsors had expected "such a genuine reaction." To this I would like to respond by saying neither was I. To be completely honest, while I knew before this that I cared about the people in my class, this event made me realize just how thankful I am for everyone. 

This part of Senior Survival changed how I thought about the experience for a couple reasons. One, it made me realize how thankful I am for everyone I've met because my life would simply not be the same if none of them were there. Two, it made me think about how easily I could lose them. This is incredibly morbid, but unfortunately, as was pointed out during the debriefing, it's also realistic. For the rest of the weekend and even now, I've tried to make the most of every moment I have with these people. It doesn't have to be as tragic or morbid as an accident, because the simple fact of life is I'm not going to be around these people 90% of the time for forever. In eight months we're going to go our separate ways, and I know that in that amount of time I can either treat everyone horribly or I can be kind, supportive, and generous to them. We all have that choice, and we all have opportunity to be good to the people around us. Make the most of the time you have with the people you love. I promise you will never regret being kind. 

The Adventures of Carla and the Kings and Queens of the Rubicon // Senior Survival (Part 2 of 7)

Originally published on September 17th, 2017

At the end of August, my class and I hiked seven miles into the middle of nowhere along the Rubicon trail. These seven essays are a collection of stories from those three days. 

"Rise and shine, Kings and Queens of the Rubicon!" I and a couple of my friends were already awake and sitting by the lagoon, but when we turned around we could see people slowly rising up from their sleeping bags. Kings and Queens, alright. Disheveled royalty at its finest. 

This was our second morning in The Great Wide Middle of Nowhere, and two of my friends and I had decided to get up before everyone else and have a bonding session by the lagoon. We awoke around 7:15 and pulled our jackets tightly around us as we talked about big things like how our year had been going so far, what we wanted for the future, and smaller things such as what our dreams the previous night had been. A few more people woke up slowly and joined us, making a tiny circle of seniors huddled in the small patch of sunshine. 

This was only one of the many times people in our class were able to bond. We spent the entire weekend together, so it was only natural that we'd all get to know each other better. When all the girls woke up the first morning we crowded around the warmest sleeping bags and found the bags of bagels and containers of slightly questionable cream cheese. The cooking groups each attempted to make macaroni and cheese and ramen out of old coffee containers and boiled water, and some groups put up with teasing voices of those not interested in adding carrots to everything (don't make that face... my group simply wanted to be a little healthier!). 

When I think back on the trip and on the bonding moments we had together, four particular events come to mind. I'm going to talk about two such events today, because the other two deserve their own posts. Both of the times I'm going to talk about happened at night, and the first took place on the Friday. We were all crowded around the campfire when one of the sponsors asked us each to mention what our plan was for next year, and what our biggest goal in life was. As each person around the campfire spoke, everyone else learned things we didn't know before. While most of us want different things career wise, there were two common themes: all of us want to either help people or make them happy. 

The second bonding experience took place on the last night. Before I go on, you should know two things about me: I don't like the dark, and I don't like water. You should also know that while I've learned how to manage my anxiety for the most part, it becomes harder to do so when I feel out of control. What I didn't know going into Senior Survival is that there is a longstanding tradition of everyone in the class walking in a line with their hands on the shoulders of the person in front of them. This sounds fine, right (if you ignore the personal space bubble)? Try it in the pitch darkness with no talking and with no socks or shoes. Needless to say, I began to panic. Before I go on, let me offer some quick advice to anyone who may be reading this who goes to my school and is worried about going on Senior Survival in the future just because of this tradition: Stand in front of someone who knows you are anxious and who you know can calm you down, and behind someone who you trust to guide you. The sponsors are going to tell you not to talk, but honestly if you whisper quietly enough they aren't going to care. I kept a light with me just in case, and if that will make you feel better do that too.

Okay, back to the story. Luckily, I was behind someone I trusted and I was in front of someone who knew about my anxious tendencies and was able to calm me down. The girl in front of me whispered what was coming (including walking by water), and the girl behind me constantly reassured me. A girl a few people in front of me would reach her hand back every so often to make sure I was okay, and when everything was over, I was wrapped in a giant hug with about four other people. We were then instructed to go to the lagoon and "wash each other's feet" I stayed with three of the people and we all decided to skip the feet washing and one of the girls simply prayed something along the lines of "this may work for some, but for other's it seems stupid. Thanks for listening to us and caring for us no matter which group we fall in." 

Here's the thing: for an Adventist school, our class is big. With 42 students, it's the biggest class in the entire k-12 school. There are definite groups of people that get along, and there are definite groups of people who do not. In a class of this size, that is bound to happen. The thing I didn't realize before Senior Survival was that we all wanted to be more united. The Thursday after returning, the entire high school had their class elections. Each of the candidates for Senior class President had one major thing in common in their speech: helping our class bond and become united. These two experiences (and the others I'll talk about soon) started to process of getting there, and that is something I am very thankful for. 

Oh, maybe I should explain who "Carla" is? She's me. One of the sponsors called me Carla for the entirety of the trip, which isn't completely out of the ordinary. Actually, people rarely get my name right the first time around. So much time had passed with her calling me Carla, though, that it just seemed strange to turn around and say "Actually, my name is Claira." Anyone else seen that episode of Friends where one of Chandler's coworkers continually gets him name wrong? Yeah, I'm just lucky it didn't turn out like that. The name is now an inside joke of sorts between me and one of my friends. So I guess this counts as another bonding experience? 

Me, at Seventeen

Originally published on September 14th, 2017

Hi, my name is Claira Eastwood, and this is me. Well, this is me at Seventeen. 

I sleep in a twin sized bed with two blankets, three pillows, a stuffed moose, and a giant bear I've had since I was three. The moose stays interlocked in my right arm, the bear stays at the foot of my bed, the pillows are scattered around, and the blankets usually end up tangled in my legs halfway through the night. I have glow in the dark stars on my ceiling and I sleep under the window so the moonlight shines over me. 

I wake up between 7:00 and 7:30 most mornings, and the first thing I do is make coffee, chai, or earl grey tea- it truly depends. I pour whatever I choose into one of my many mugs. I tend to use my The Little Prince one my mom got me for Christmas last year, the one my grandparents brought me from Spain last year, or my Friends one that one of my best friends got me a couple years ago, but sometimes I branch out and use something different. I take my coffee with a splash of creamer, my tea with with some milk and a spoonful of sugar, and my chai as is. I'd like to say I sip it slowly while looking out my window, but the reality is I'm taking long sips while getting ready. 

I love t-shirts, and right now I'm wearing my The 1975 one that I got from Amazon a lot. I usually wear jeans, partly because they're comfortable but mostly because I simply can after going to schools where I couldn't. After I get dressed I put a small black "x" over the date on my Troye Sivan calendar that hangs in my closet. I water whatever flowers are currently sitting on my dresser (right now I have orchids), and do my makeup. I use the term "makeup" loosely, as it's really just mascara and chapstick. I have this Magnolia flower lotion that I use all the time, so it's running low, but I still use it daily. 

On one wall of my room I have Christmas lights and pictures of my friends, and on another I have my The Giver Quartet poster and my calendar that displays a different location in France every month (yes, I do have two calendars). By my door hangs my mirror and my elephant chain, which I am quite fond of. I ring it every morning before I leave. My favorite candle right now smells like fern and moss, but I don't remember where I got it which is disappointing. 

Right now I'm rewatching Frasier a lot and listening to a lot of Oh Wonder. My favorite bands are The Beatles and The 1975 and my favorite solo artist is Ed Sheeran (shocking, I know ;-)). I go to sleep between 10:00 and 11:45 because I hate the idea of falling asleep when it's already morning. I take showers at night because I don't like going to sleep with the feeling of having dirty skin, and while I'd like to say I read before bed, in reality I just scroll through Facebook and Instagram a few times while watching Netflix until I'm sleepy. 

Right now I'm reading Someone Knows My Name by Lawrence Hill for my school's book club, and I'm mostly reading it during lunch and between classes. Ever since going back to school I've found that I read more but feel like I'm reading less. My days are spent studying for the SAT, ACT, my driving test, and regular class tests and quizzes. I work on Tuesdays, and I write in my journal almost daily. My favorite class is AP Literature, but honestly I thought I'd like Film Production the best. I'm scared of the dark but I'm learning to love the silence. I get tired around 2:00 in the afternoon, but magically wake up as soon as my mom picks me up from school. I miss my friends from last year, but their words of advice and encouragement are on replay in my head, and the people I'm surrounded by are wonderful too. 

I'm happy right now, and that fact makes me happier. I'll be eighteen in 45 days, but for the time being I am quite content with seventeen. 

I Have Wanted to Be Far Too Many Things

Originally published on September 10th, 2017

I have wanted to be far too many things to only be one
I have wanted to live in far too many places to stand still
I want to be an actress in New York, and a writer in Boston
A painter in Colorado,  a musician in Maryland, and a poet in Seattle

I have wanted to travel to far too many places to never leave home
Thailand, Marseille, Verona, and Kyoto
I have wanted to write far too many books to never pick up a pen
And I have wanted to sing far too many songs to let my voice be still

There are so many decisions I don’t feel ready to make
Where will I go? what will I do? who will I choose to be?
Will I let my poems speak for me, or will my songs sing my thoughts?
Will I find my way through countrysides and city lights or will I choose a quiet place to be still?

I have wanted to be far too many things to only be one
An astronaut, a tap dancer, and a potter
A storyteller, a teacher, and a journalist
A politician, an activist, and a poet

I have always wanted to be happy with what I choose
To have no regrets, and live a life fulfilled
To chase my dreams, and not let time stand in my way
To be proud of accomplishments, and always have one eye on the road ahead

So whether I become a writer, or a politician
A potter or a painter
And whether I live in Seattle or Nebraska,
Or somewhere overseas

I will chase my dreams and not give up until I’ve found them
I’m an idealist, but that hasn’t steered me wrong yet
I have wanted to be far too many things
But that’s just who I am, and that’s who I choose to be

Going Home

Originally published on September 07th, 2017

At the end of last month, I went back to where I grew up for a little less than 24 hours. It was a trip filled with nostalgia, but also with lots of closure. On the drive down, I slowly began to recognize the landmarks I'd used when I was a little kid. There is a hill that stands right before the ocean, and when I was little and we'd be driving home from a vacation, I used the hill to know we were almost home. It was dark as we drove past, but I could still make out the outline of the hill and when I squinted I could see the ocean. 

I woke up the next morning and went to the beach with my mom and grandmother. I hadn't been on this particular beach since June of 2014, but for some reason it still felt completely familiar. There are few times when I can say I felt completely at peace, but while walking I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of calm. 

Since my mom had to work, we went back and my grandmother and I went to get bagels for the three of us at the place my mom and I used to go all the time. The last time I'd eaten a bagel from that place was as we drove away in 2014 to our new house. I must say, the wait was worth it as they tasted exactly the same three years later. While my mom worked, my grandmother and I decided to drive into San Luis Obispo to go to the Barnes and Noble we used to go to all the time. But first, we made a small stop in my old neighborhood. We parked, and then I was able to walk past my old house. It's a different color now, and the yard doesn't look the same. We walked around the neighborhood, and as we went by my old favorite houses a quote from chapter one of A Separate Peace came to mind: "... It seemed to me standing there to resemble the giants of my childhood, whom you encounter years later and find that they are not merely smaller in relation to your growth, but that they are absolutely smaller, shrunken by age." 

Going to the Barnes and Noble was really fun because it was like returning to where I found my love of books. While there I (of course) got a couple new things of poetry and Letters to a Young Poet, which I read last month. We then drove by the other beach I went to for most school vespers, which made me remember an old sweatshirt I lost there in third grade that is unfortunately lost forever. When we left, my grandmother and I drove past the health club where I had swim lessons/practice for five years. This was actually really cool, because I think about those days all the time and driving past the place was almost helpful in a way. 

After we left, I had the strange idea of driving past my old school. This was by far the strangest part of going back. I went to that school for nine years, and so much of my life was spent in those hallways, classrooms, and with those teachers and students. All we did was drive by (I didn't have any need to walk around), but I still got to look in a little bit. I had just read through some of my journals from eighth grade, and seeing a glimpse of the places where the things I'd written about had happened was very strange. 

They say you can't go home again, and they're right. Even so, for a few hours I was able to feel fourteen again. Last week while at my grandparents house, my family was talking about what ages we'd be fine repeating and which we never would. I said I would never want to repeat ages 11-14, and that's still true. Those five years were the hardest for so many reasons, but even so it was almost cathartic to return ever so slightly. You can't go home again, but you can return to the places, memories, and feelings. I had to say goodbye again, but this time with a new perspective. By going back I was able to notice how much I've grown in the last three years. I learned so much in the twelve years I lived there, but, if it's possible, I think I've learned even more in the few years I've been away. I'm thankful for the years I had there, but going back was able to give me a little bit of closure so I can look forward to the future. 

One Foot in Front of the Other // Senior Survival (Part 1 of 7)

Originally published on September 03rd, 2017

At the end of August, my class and I hiked seven miles into the middle of nowhere along the Rubicon trail. These seven essays are a collection of stories from those three days. 

"If you think about it, seven miles really isn't that much" I thought to myself the morning before leaving. I was right, it isn't much in relation to some things. Seven miles is less than the distance from my house to my school. It's only six more times around my neighborhood than I normally do, and it's definitely less than the 26.2 miles runners all of the world do all the time when they partake in a marathon. 

It is not, however, at all easy. 

I rode in the car in between two of my friends. Another girl sat in front of us and three others sat in the back. The drive up was shorter than I'd expected, so when we reached the parking lot before the trail at around 7:30 in the evening I wasn't as worried as I had been. I pulled on a jacket and my headlight before struggling to pull on the huge backpack that held my clothes, food, supplies, etc. for the next three days. When almost twenty minutes had gone by, I was convinced we'd be hiking in the dark. I knew we would be at least a little, but when it was 9:00 and we hadn't left yet, I knew I had seven miles of darkness to look forward to. 

Our leader gathered me, the 22 other seniors, and the sponsors into a circle to give us some last minute advice. Something about how to fall correctly (ha), something about helping each other out, and something about bears. No worries. My friend Mary and I stood together in the circle and tried to make sure the other was okay, but when you take two girls who have a tendency to worry and put them in the middle of nowhere in pitch black and start talking about bears, it's not going to be easy. 

Finally, we started walking. The first mile wasn't bad. In fact, I was convinced I'd be perfectly fine. The backpack wasn't too heavy, and I was walking by a few of my friends so I wasn't worried. Once we reached a small body of water, however, I cracked. "Claira, are you okay?" I heard someone ask. I hadn't realized it until then, but I felt tears slip down my cheeks. I heard someone tell us to take our socks and shoes off, and I choked back my fear of water and slipped my feet out of my tennis shoes and two pairs of socks ("to prevent blisters"). A couple of the guys in my class helped us across and soon we were on the other side. Being passed the water, I thought I'd be fine. However, I couldn't envision myself walking another six miles in the darkness, especially because I knew that the other side didn't hold my warm bed, Netflix, or my stuffed moose. 

A few miles and hours later and I wasn't as confident as I'd been heading out. My backpack felt heavier with each step, I was out of breath, and I really just wanted to go to sleep. Because I'd left my watch at home and my phone had turned off, I had no idea what time it was. Thinking back, it's probably good I didn't know. I'm sure knowing the time would only have made me feel sleepier. Eventually, we all stopped at a lookout point. There was a huge rock and I dumped the backpack at my feet and sat next to it. I lifted my head and saw more stars than I've ever seen at once before. "This is worth it" I thought, and felt my eyes begin to close. They were opened a few moments later, however, because I could hear the sound of backpacks being lifted back on and the scurry of feet moving again. My friend Joe lifted my backpack onto my shoulders and once again, I was moving. 

The next couple miles passed without too much excitement. I found that if I looked at the ground and focused on simply putting one foot in front of the other, it didn't feel so rough. It began to feel almost monotonous, and although I was tired, I was also bored, which I was thankful for. Eventually, however, the sleepiness set in. I heard someone say it was almost 2 o'clock in the morning, and when the group stopped again, I curled up in what I would later discover was a makeshift graveyard (more on this later), and fell asleep on my backpack for a good five minutes. One of my friends curled up next to me, and we could hear soft voices of laughter as our classmates noticed some people were falling asleep. 

We were woken up after a few minutes and the walking continued. At this point, I was done. I could feel myself choking back tear after tear and my legs felt numb. My shoulders ached from the weight of the backpack and I was cold. We reached another body of water and before reaching the clearing my ankle got cut on a fallen tree branch. I sat next to one of my friends and tried to breathe as deeply as possible as I shined my headlight on the bright red cut. "I'd honestly rather be anywhere but here" I thought. Yes, the stars had been worth it, but sitting on the sidelines as some people tried building a makeshift bridge to get us all across the water was not. When the bridge was complete, we were each helped across and stopped on some of the sand that lay on the other side. Based on my limited knowledge and the pictures I'd seen from last year's seniors, I and a few others assumed we'd reached the campsite. Someone even pulled out a ukulele before we heard a couple sponsors tell us to put our backpacks back on and keep moving. 

The sound of groans and a few sniffles accomponied our trail as we all continued to walk forward. Soon, it was just me, another girl, and our sponsor walking in a small group. We reached a fairly steep hill and I heard our sponsor say that all we had to do was reach the light on the other side. He was right, there was definitely something shining quite a ways ahead of us. I was almost delirious with lack of sleep at this point, but I kept moving forward.  

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of putting one foot in front of the other, we could see the campsite. It was then that my legs gave out. I honestly have no idea what happened to make them do that, but I physically could not make myself take another step. Joe, who was slightly in front of me, turned around to see what had happened, and took my backpack off my shoulders and carried it to the campsite. When the 20-some students and five sponsors had all finally reached our destination, we set up the tarps, unwrapped sleeping bags, and were able to fall asleep. Ironically, this was the second time that week I'd fallen asleep at 4:00, and if you know anything about my sleep habits you'll know this isn't the smartest thing for me. 

Obviously, when we got to where we were going it was still totally dark, so we couldn't see what was surrounding us. When I woke up the next morning, this was my view:

Again, I had a moment of thinking the hike was worth it. This certainly wasn't the last time I thought this, but those stories will have to wait :-).

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

Originally published on August 31st, 2017

Well, that was a busy month. It started with house sitting for my Grandparents and ended with a visit back to the place I grew up, with the school year starting in the middle. Somewhere along the way I still read a bit and was luckily able to do some traveling (if you'd call it that!).

BOOKS I'VE READ

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel

Last month when I was in Seattle I was lucky enough to see the musical that was based on this book, and right afterward my uncle bought me a copy. I read the book and then listened to the soundtrack about four times all the way through, and I loved it more every time. The thing I love about books and musicals is that most of the time the consumer can take something away from it that speaks to them even if the overall story doesn't necessarily connect with them personally. I loved this book, and I've been recommending it all over the place ever since I finished it. 

Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke

I recently got a book of Rilke's poetry and have been slowly making my way through it. His poems are able to put words to things I didn't even realize I was thinking, and they're very comforting. While I was in San Luis Obispo at the end of this month I went to the Barnes and Noble I would go to all the time and saw this in the poetry section. I'd heard of it but hadn't been actively seeking it out, but now I can't imagine a life without it. Like his poetry, Rilke's letters give answers to questions, and comfort for confusion. I highly, highly, highly recommend it. 

PLACES I'VE LOVED

Granite Bay, CA

The week that school started was fairly insane. Although only two days were spent in classes, a lot of work was spent doing SA stuff. There was something on Friday morning, a vespers on Friday night, and a lock-in Saturday night. This picture was taken at the vespers, which I honestly really enjoyed. It happened on August 18th, which meant it had been a whole year since I'd started at the school I'm at. There was an odd sense of nostalgia with me all day, and that mixed with being extremely tired and honestly kind of irritated had me not really looking forward to the vespers. But once I was there and started talking to people I felt a lot better. One of my best friends from last year's senior class was speaking, and it was so good to see her. All in all, Granite Bay was definitely a place I loved this month. 

Literally the Middle of Nowhere, CA

Ah Senior Survival, a longstanding tradition my school has. We hiked seven miles into the wilderness and stayed there for the entire weekend. I came back tired, but also happy.  Blistered, bruised, and scratched, but also thankful for the time I was able to spend with my class. I have a seven part series coming shortly where I'll go into detail about this experience. There were many highs, many lows, and the occasional nap on the Rubicon Trail. 

Arroyo Grande, CA

The Tuesday after returning from Senior Survival, I took a day off of school and went to Arroyo Grande, CA. This is the place I lived for the longest- 12 years in fact. I walked on the beach, went by my old neighborhood, and went into San Luis Obispo a little bit. It was a very nostalgic trip for me, but definitely one that was necessary to make. 

This month was good. It was filled with both nostalgia and the ever pressing existence of the future. It was the end and beginning of many things, and I'm thankful for each day. This month gave me a look into what I want the rest of the year to be like, and I'm very excited to see what it has in store. 

For My Best Friends

Originally published on August 27th, 2017

Hi,

Everyone told you you'd have to work harder than everyone else. Everyone told you that fear is just to motivate you, and everyone told you that being tired is just a sign you're doing something right. 

Everyone was wrong. 

Yes, you will have to work hard to get to where you're going. But no, fear is not always good. And no, being tired does not mean you're doing what you should be. 

Being tired means you need to sleep. Yes, sleep. Close your laptop and shut off your phone. The messages, emails, and due dates can wait eight hours. Crawl under your blankets and hug your stuffed animals close. Close your eyes and drift off into sleep. 

But when your alarm goes off, don't hit snooze. Step onto your floor and lift your hands into the air. Let yourself be thankful for what you have and take deep breaths. Drink your coffee slowly and read a poem, or three. You don't need to rush. Eat something. I don't care what it is, just eat something. Whether it's as fancy and prepared as pancakes or as rushed and hurried as a granola bar, eat something before you leave. 

When you step outside into the fresh air, walk with the knowledge that you know. You know yourself, you know where you're going, and you know that even if you don't know those things yet you will soon. Work hard, but not so hard that you physically can't work any harder. Push yourself, but be kind to yourself. Try things first, but ask for help when you need it. 

You are not one-half of a whole, you are the freaking circle. You don't need anyone else to come in and rearrange you. If someone is taking away from who you are, or they are adding negativity and disaster, it's okay to walk away. There are people who will know that you are whole. They will know that all they can do is add, and they know that all you can do for them is add. You can't change people, and you certainly can't change the people who want you to change them.

There will be bad days. There will be days when even after you've slept and eaten and had enough water you still feel tired, and hungry, and dehydrated. Those are the days for good books, good music, good people, good silence. There will also be good days. Days when you feel as though you could run forever, and days when nothing is in your way. Those are the days for rejoicing and laughter. Remember these days, write them down or take pictures. Record them in your memories and hold on to them as long as you can. 

Lastly, remember that you are you. You are not anyone else, and that's a good thing. Cut your hair if you want or grow it out to be as long as Rapunzel's. Do the thing that scares you the most. Think about what you want in life and then chase it. You are smart, talented, funny, beautiful, kind, and all the other things that you've already been told. You are capable. I have complete faith that you can do whatever you set your mind to. 

Love,

Me 

Why I Love Dear Evan Hansen So Much (and no, it's not because I'm a generic teenager who thinks they know everything about musical theatre)

Originally published on August 24th, 2017

Content Warning: Brief mention of suicide. Skip over paragraph three if you don't want to read about it. 

Earlier this year, I heard about a new Broadway musical entitled Dear Evan Hansen. The first song I ever heard was Waving Through a Window, which is the second song in the show. I spent a Friday night listening to the whole cast recording, and was instantly falling in love. 

As a quick synopsis of the show, a senior in high school named Evan Hansen is told by his therapist to write letters to himself, saying they'll help build up his confidence. After breaking his arm over the summer, his mom suggests that he ask the people in his class to sign his cast. In the first act, he writes a letter to himself and it prints in the computer lab at school. A guy in his class named Connor Murphy finds it and goes to give it to him. Connor offers to sign Evan's cast after noticing that no one has yet. As he turns to leave, Connor notices that his sister, Zoe's, name is in Evan's letter and starts yelling saying Evan purposley printed the letter knowing he would see it and his sister's name just to mess with him. Evan tries to explain but Connor doesn't listen and leaves with the letter. 

A few days go by and soon Evan is called to the principal's office where he sees Connor's parents. He learns that Connor had recently committed suicide and his parents learned that Evan had been one of the last people to see him. Evan tries to explain that he didn't really know him very well, but because of the name on his cast no one believes him. He then sets up an elaborate lie where he and Connor were actually best friends. Part of this is because he is in love with Zoe and thinks that maybe she'll start to like him too if he helps her parents heal after Connor's death. The other reason is Evan doesn't have the family he always wanted because his dad left when he was little and his mom is always working, and he is accepted by the Murphy's. 

Now onto why I love this show so much even though it's basically about a humongous lie that gets out of control. I love this show because I've been Evan. So many people have been Evan, and this show lets some light in on us. The first letter Evan writes in the show ends like this: I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean face it, would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow? 

These are words that I have said. I have a vivid memory of being in eighth grade and sitting at the kitchen table and thinking that if I disappeared no one would notice. Everything would be okay that way. I felt forgotten. I felt lonely, and like nothing I said mattered. Fast forward to the beginning of my Junior year, I again felt as if no one noticed what I said. This is partly why the senior girls affected me and my life so deeply, because I knew that they noticed. To give you a visual of how this feels, here's a video of the Tony's this year where they performed Waving Through a Window: (2:41-3:48). (I think it's important that I explain that I don't feel this way anymore. I'm surrounded by incredible, loving, kind, amazing people and I feel very lucky to have them.) 

I love this show because it shows how I used to feel. I also love it because of the message it gives: that no one deserves to be forgotten. No one should be alone, everyone matters. My favorite song in the entire show is You Will Be Found. I don't listen to it very much because I start to cry every time, but that's only because the message affects me so deeply. (You Will Be Found) I could go into further detail about why I also feel connected to Zoe Murphy and her songs in particular, but that's a story for another day. For now, I want to say that you all matter. You are all important. You don't deserve to be forgotten. You and the words you say matter. Please don't forget that. 

Lastly, I recommend listening to the entire cast recording. It's all on Youtube, and it was one of the best things I did last year (listening to it while doing math probably wasn't, but still). 

"No one deserves to be forgotten. No deserves to fade away. No one should flicker out or have any doubt that it matters that they are here. No one deserves to disappear." 

I’m a Senior

Originally published on August 17th, 2017

In life, we are constantly leveling up. All around us, something is always changing. Sometimes those changes happen over time, sometimes it happens all at once, and sometimes they seem like a combination of the two. For me, starting my senior year was a combination.

Yesterday was my first day, but instead of talking about how it went and what I did, I wanted to talk about change a little more. The first picture below was taken the night before I started my Freshman year, and the second one was taken a couple days ago, the night before I started my Senior year. Obviously, becoming a senior did not happen overnight. It took many years of education to get here, but at the same time, it still feels like it happened all of a sudden. It feels like just yesterday I was sitting on the diving board talking to my mom and she took that picture, but it wasn’t yesterday. It was three years and five days ago.

The thing that gets me the most is that three years and five days ago I had no idea what was to come. I didn’t know any of the people I would soon meet, and I had no clue how they’d affect me in the long term. I hadn’t failed the tests or passed the finals yet. I hadn’t been to those disaster banquets or those amazing ones yet. I hadn’t cried in bathroom stalls yet or jumped for joy with my soon to be best friends yet. When I think about it that way, I can’t help but think that I, in this moment, have no idea what this next year has in store me. And that, my friends, is a really exciting idea.

~ 292

August 12th, 2014 - the night before my Freshman year

August 15th, 2017 - the night before my Senior year

You Have to Learn to Fall

Originally published on August 13th, 2017

Last year I was in Kung Fu... sort of. I went six times and two of those six times was spent learning how to fall correctly. While doing any form of martial arts (and a myriad of other things), you have to be able to fall correctly in order to be as safe as possible. Considering I've never been great at gymnastics and any kind of rolling in general, this was quite difficult for me. After multiple attempts at doing a roll fall thing we moved on to something else. This time I just had to fall straight back and hit my hands on the mat underneath me. This, I could do. 

Or so I thought. 

Apparently it's much harder than you'd think, and I spent the remaining half hour learning how to fall. Before I left, my instructor called me back and said, "You have to learn to fall before you can do anything else. Don't worry, you're doing fine." 

Although I ended up not continuing with Kung Fu (not just because of the falling, I'm okay with that now), the phrase "you have to learn to fall before you can do anything else" has stayed with me. Throughout last year, I encountered problems. I took two English classes and practically drowned in essays. Chemistry was difficult. I went through a heartbreak. I lost motivation with this website. But I also did a lot of really cool things. I ran for SA. I was in Les Mis. I made friendships that I know will last for a long time. The beginning of the year was really rough. I didn't know anyone and had to crawl my way in. I fell, a lot. But then I got up, brushed myself off, and slowly but surely built a place for myself. 

My first day of school is on Wednesday, and although I'm 90% over the nerves and I'm feeling pretty good about it, I know that this year is going to filled with many things, and failure is more than likely going to be one of them. I'm not perfect (a recovering perfectionist's least favorite sentence to say), and I know that this year while I'm trying new things and working hard I will run into some problems. I'm going to have bad days. I'm going to struggle with projects. I'm going to forget my lunch one day and spend time looking for enough quarters in my backpack. My locker is going to get messy- my life may get messy. But I'm going to have good days. I'm going to ace tests. I'm going to take care of myself. I'm going to read good books and write good posts and connect with good people. But I had to learn how to fall before I could soar. 

Hi, I’m a Camel

Originally published on August 10th, 2017

The headboard was a disaster. 

When I first got the idea to paint my room, I also had the idea of redecorating it completely. I've been mildly successful so far, with a few mishaps and setbacks. The headboard was one such setback, and as I'm writing this it has yet to leave my room. Here is a brief list of the things it has done to me and my loved ones thus far:

- hurt my back after I carried the box from the front steps to my bedroom

- fell on my hands after falling apart for the second time

- made my mom's foot swell up after it fell apart for the third time and landed on her

- put a hole in my thumb with one of it's nails after a blanket got caught and I tried to fix it

Keep in mind that I have attempted to put this headboard together four times, and have never been successful. I'd also keep in mind that this contraption cost me $90 that I'd been saving for MONTHS. It was the first big thing I'd ever bought for myself, and as soon as I finished painting my room I got to work trying to set it up (well, actually I went to work first, but we'll get to that in a moment). It took me exactly four episodes of Friends, and when I went to stand it up right, it started to collapse. My mom came in to help me, but the fact that it was past 10:00 mixed with the day I'd had resulted in my not receiving her help as I should have and she left. 

It was then that I, much like the headboard, also broke down. You all know by now how much I hate crying in public, but the thing is I also hate crying in general (though who doesn't?). I tend to cry quite a lot anyway, but I rarely ever sob. That night, I slumped down in the corner that was as far from the headboard as I could get and just sobbed.

Back to my day at work: It hadn't gone well. Aside from working for 2Human Strategies, I also work for a retired teacher who lives in my area, and this day had been my third week of work. While I'm there I help her read things as she's slowly going blind, and considering I read all the time I'd figured it wouldn't be too difficult. As it turns out, reading out loud is a different skill than just reading. The week before, she'd continually asked me to slow down, which was perfectly fine as I do have a tendency while reading out loud to go very quickly. The problem came on this particular day when before going over the couch to read from her political magazines, she sat me down and told me that I wasn't a very good reader. 

I was crushed. 

I know, I know. She didn't know me very well and had no idea how much I read outside of work. She didn't know that my childhood anxiety had led to a stutter that still leads to nervousness when it comes to reading out loud. She didn't know that I had just failed my driving knowledge test and was sensitive to being told I wasn't good at things. She didn't know I was tired from painting. She didn't know me, and that's okay. I took a deep breath (or seven), and tried my hardest to read slower while pretending I was on NPR and was sharing a story. The next conundrum came when she started commenting on the stories I was reading. Here's the thing: we disagree politically. I've learned this year to be far more openminded than I've been in the past, but it's hard to not fire back facts when dealing with conspiracy theories. 

Flashforward to 10:30 that night, me in the corner sobbing my eyes out with a collapsed headboard on the other side of the room. I cried because of my failure at the DMV. I cried because I was told I wasn't a good reader. I cried because people I admire and look up to had been repeatedly bashed and I couldn't say anything for fear of being fired. I cried because I couldn't do something for myself. I cried because I felt out of control. In that moment, it was all too much. 

So, I did what I always do after sobbing and fell asleep. My bed was still at an odd angle from being moved aside so I could paint the wall next to it, but I crawled in anyway, clothes and all. I woke up an hour later and took a shower. I cried some more as the hot water rushed over me. I got out and put on my favorite shirt that has Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse on it and drank a full glass of water. I dried my eyes and went back to sleep, because there are some things that only sleep and a Walt Disney shirt can fix. Sometimes we collapse. Sometimes life is a bit too much and we can do nothing else but cry. The headboard was the straw that broke the camels back, and in this case the camel was a seventeen year old girl who was holding far too much weight on her shoulders for a Monday night.

Things are much better now, a month later. Work still has its tough moments, but overall things are fine. I'm turning the pieces of the headboard into new shelves for my books, so I'll still get some use out of it. The thing is, though, in the midst of my breakdown I couldn't see past what was in front of me. I'm all for thinking positively and finding the good in everything, but you don't have to do those things when life feels as though it's crashing down around you. Take care of yourself. Let yourself cry and don't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. We all have our bad moments, and sometimes going to sleep and waiting for the sun to rise is the best and simplest way to fix them. 

My Room is No Longer Green

Originally published on August 06th, 2017

Actually, it hasn’t been for some time now. At the end of June, my mom and I went to the Home Depot near our house and I picked out a light bluish lavender color to have instead of the bright almost Kermit-like green. Don’t get me wrong, I still love Kermit very much, only I had started to strongly dislike how my room looked. Superficial, maybe, but still the truth. That night I started painting, and the next day I finished it. Now, my room feels brighter and almost bigger, and I’m very happy with how it turned out, even if my novice painting skills allowed some of the green to peep through.  

Knowing me, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that almost everything I do becomes a metaphor. The green walls could represent all that I was and did last year, and the new lavender walls become my hopes and dreams and plans for the future. It is possible that I live in the past too much and need to step away from the nostalgia for a while, but for now I like the metaphor. I painted my room all by myself, and even though it can be deemed such a small thing, it was a big deal to me. Over the last couple months I’ve done more things that have proved in their own way just how able I am. I don’t feel any more ready to for the future than I did, but I do know that my resilience and optimism will get me through whatever it may hold.

~ 262 

5 Pictures Where You Feel the Most Beautiful

Originally published on August 03rd, 2017

One morning, a couple weeks ago, I was slowly scrolling through Facebook when a memory popped up.  As I looked through it, I found that three years ago I hopped on the bandwagon and posted five pictures where I thought I was the most beautiful. I apparently have no faith in my fourteen-year-old self, because my seventeen-year-old self assumed I had chosen pictures that I thought were the most beautiful stereotypically.  Alas, as I read what I had written, I was pleased to discover that my newly minted high school Freshman self had chosen pictures from her eighth class trip and graduation, pictures of her and her family, and so on.

None of the pictures were ones I necessarily thought were great, but they were pictures where I felt proud. They were pictures that conjured up memories of happy moments where I was happy to be where I was. There was a picture of me on the beach, one of me singing at graduation, and a blurry selfie with a friend on our class trip. As I looked through the pictures, I decided to do it again. I went over to Instagram, looked through my pictures on my phone, and plucked five memories from my collection. I thought carefully about the pictures and decided to put them below:

Picture #1: Claira in her natural habitat

This picture was taken on a trip to Los Angeles. Here I am holding a copy of A Separate Peace and To Kill a Mockingbird - two of my absolute favorite books. When I first posted this picture, I made it black and white to hide what I didn't like about myself. Looking at it now, all I see is a picture of me being perfectly at peace with where I am. I almost used another picture of me looking out at Los Angeles from the Griffith Observatory because it represents the same idea, but there's no getting past the fact that this is a picture of me in my favorite store holding my two favorite books. 

Picture #2: After finishing the final performance of Les Mis

There is definitely something to be said for the amount of joy I feel after a performance (also before a performance, during a performance, during rehearsals for a performance...). This picture is one of my favorites because I remember being so happy. Sure, I was sad Les Mis was over, but I was still on cloud 9 from the performances and the experience plus three of my best friends had come to see it. This picture captures so much joy, and I think it's really hard to not feel beautiful when you're happy. 

Picture #3: Coffee and Christmas lights

During the school year, my mom and I have a tradition where on Friday night we walk to the nearby Starbucks. Around Christmas time last year, this tradition was made even better because not only did we have coffee (decaf), but there were also lots of Christmas lights. This is another example of feeling the most beautiful while happy, as my mom makes me very happy and I love spending time with her (though the coffee helps, too ;-)). 

Picture #4: Being enveloped in friendship

This is one of my favorite pictures from the last year. I love it because it encapsulates some of the friendships I've made and how wonderful my friends are. This was taken on our music tour outside the theatre where we saw Into the Woods, and as we all know that was one of my favorite parts of April. The music tour had a couple rocky moments for me, but it also showed me just how lucky I am to have the friends that I do, and it's hard not to feel beautiful when you're surrounded by people who lift you up.

Picture #5: A window in the Lincoln Capitol building. 

When I visited Nebraska in January, one of the things we did was go to the Lincoln Capitol building. Although the library was absolutely wonderful, I was partial to the hallway that is pictured here with all the windows. I chose this picture because that weekend was one where I found myself reaching out of my comfort zone and doing new things. I loved being in Nebraska and I was happy while I was there, and, again, it's hard not to feel beautiful when you're happy. 

So, how about you? What are the five pictures, moments, or memories that make you feel the most beautiful, loved, and happy? 

"I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls." -Audrey Hepburn

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

Originally published on July 30th, 2017

July, I love you. This month was overflowing with wonderful things, from the road trip I took with my mom to meetings I had to plan the next school year. I went to Seattle for work and wrote and read so many new things. I'm so thankful for this month, and I hope August follows in it's footsteps. 

BOOKS I'VE READ

Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera

This month I bit the bullet and bought an audio book. Okay, technically I had a credit so this book cost me zero dollars and zero cents, but still. In the past, I've been known as a huge advocate for paper books, and I still am. For me, nothing beats the feeling of holding a book in your hands and physically turning the pages, but after last month I wanted to make sure I read something. I figured by listening to a book I'd be able to read it while doing other things like finishing the process of redoing my room, and I was right. 

But onto the actual book! There is a book club podcast that I listen to sometimes, and this was their book for the month. This is also the first time I read the book, and I'm really glad I did. Not only did it make listening to the podcast far more interesting, but the book itself was simply incredible. 

This book challenged my way of thinking in regards to feminism, race, etc. It's interesting when you think you know all you need, and then read something that makes you go "oh, hmm, I've definitely done that and thought I was doing the right thing." I love this book. I love that it made me think, and I love that it challenged my views on things. 

The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros

This is yet another book I never read my Freshmen year so decided I should read it now. I loved the way it written so much; like essays compiled together to tell a continuing story. The story itself was wonderful as well. It made me think, broke my heart, and lifted my spirits all at once. This book had underlying tones of race and feminism as well, so this month was spent in a constant state of questioning my past views and ways of thinking. 

PLACES I'VE LOVED

Mendocino, CA

I wrote about my day trip here with my mom earlier in the month, but I wanted to say again just how much I love it. This place is so beautiful and it was so good to hear ocean waves and seagulls again after over a year of being away. Even if the ice-cream place was closed, I'm glad we went. 

The Oregon Shakespeare Festival, OR

Our first official stop on the road trip led me and my mom to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival where we saw The Merry Wives of Windsor, which can apparently become a musical if you want. I really loved being there, and it reminded me of the Globe Theatre in the best way possible. 

Bellingham, Washington

Yes, that is me hugging a tree. I loved being in Washington so much, but before I went Seattle I got to stay even farther North for a couple days. I know, I know, I've talked about the road trip so much this month, but I loved it so much. This hike was especially beautiful, and I would definitely go back. 

Seattle, Washington

Ah, possibly my favorite part of the entire month. I got to work in a city, walk everywhere, see Fun Home after hearing so many good things, visit the University of Washington, and so much more. I miss being there, but I know that I'll be back. 

Folsom Lake, CA

July turned out to be the month of hiking (also sunburns, but that's a different story). As someone who used to hike all the time, it was nice to get back into it at least a little bit. Folsom Lake was something that I had heard a lot about over the last year or so, and getting to experience it for myself was really cool. The hike was absolutely lovely, and I'd be very happy to go back.  

Well, happy almost August everybody! I start school this month, and to be honest I'm still in that stage where I keep having dreams about missing the first day, forgetting my computer on the first day, etc, but I'm still very excited about what is to come! Have a good month, everybody! 

A Bruised Knee, Some Garlic, and a Little Saltwater

Originally published on July 27th, 2017

"Are you okay?" a voice called from above me. I quickly tried to stand up again while simultaneously pulling my jeans up higher and adjusting my jacket. "Oh, yeah I'm fine", I said, hobbling to the window of the Dutch Bros. "Are you sure?" the girl asked. Her face looked worried, but I tried to assure her I was okay while trying not to look at my knee or my side. I turned my back to the few cars in the drive through and texted my mom: "I fell. I'm okay but can you come get me?" She appeared what seemed to be out of nowhere, made sure I was okay, and I hobbled over to the car where I waited for her to return with coffee for the both of us. 

Once we were both back in the car, I recounted to her what had happened. After I walked from the gas station where she was filling up the car to the nearby Dutch Bros., I tripped over either a grate or my own feet (the latter seemed more probable), and suddenly I found myself lying on the ground beside a drive through. 

This was only 7:15 in the morning. 

We then proceeded to drive to the community garden that is connected to my grandparents' church. As an incoming high school senior, community service hours now seem like less of an "oh, I'll go on that one mission trip and then I'll weed something and call it a day" and more of an "I need 46 hours of weeding or I can't graduate" kind of a thing. While at the garden, I picked blackberries and dug up garlic and then my grandmother showed me and my mom around the center itself. I've never really been one for gardening, but the whole idea behind this one is pretty cool to me. 

Later that afternoon my grandfather took me and my mom to the swimming pool near their house. I hadn't been swimming in a really long time, almost a year in fact. I've mentioned this before, but I was actually on a swim team from 6th-8th grade, and I had the same teacher/coach from 3rd-8th grade. It was only five years, but those years have had a lasting impact. When we moved, I had trouble getting back into swimming even though we had a pool. I'm still not exactly sure as to why, but I think it had to do with the fact that I missed my teacher so much, and it felt weird to swim without her being around. Swimming again was really good for me to do, and I hope I can start doing it more and more. 

This was one day in my life, and although it wasn't typical, it made for a story to tell when I really had no idea what to write about. 

Seattle

Originally published on July 23rd, 2017

I recently visited Seattle, Washington for a few days. The road trip I took with my mom ended on the tenth when she dropped me off at the office I worked at and we said goodbye. I stayed in the city until the morning of the fourteenth, and although that's less than a week, there was a lot involved. I'm starting to write this the same day I flew home, and considering how much I currently miss everything this may end up being a bunch of paragraphs of emotions. 

When my mom and I parted ways, I realized that I was officially in a city I didn't know very well surrounded by people I didn't know very well, but my sense of adventure somehow overtook any anxiety I could have had and I felt perfectly fine. I stayed with one of my mom's friends from college, and the first thing I did after looking at the office was walk down to a pier with her to look out at the water. Some of my favorite memories from the trip involve eating breakfast and drinking coffee with her while talking about a myriad of different things. 

I think one of the funniest parts of this trip was finding people who are pretty much the living embodiment of what is running through my head most of the time. This made the couple meetings we had quite interesting (read: enjoyable) for me, but now it makes me miss everyone all the more. Even so, there are some people that you meet and you just know that they are going to be important to you for a long, long time. 

A few days into my visit, my uncle took me to the campus of the University of Washington. Although I had spent the last six months being 99% sure of where I was going to college, I kept my mind open and sort of fell in love with the campus. I only visited two places (the library and theatre building. Ahem, theatre building), but I still loved it. I'm not sure I can say that I see myself there, but I like the possibility. This then leads to me sitting on my uncles' roof on my last night in the city. I took the picture below and kept thinking about the previous few days. I've always loved Seattle, and ever since I was little I've liked the idea of living there some day. The idea that I could live there earlier than some day is both terrifying and exciting. 

I loved being in Seattle. I honestly think my few days there couldn't have come at a better time, as it gave me a sense of clarity that I don't think I would have received anywhere else. After walking in a city by myself and flying back alone I feel far more able than I did before. After working I feel more experienced, and after the three days as a whole I feel better. Seattle is a good place, and I'm glad I'll get to go back. 

I took this incredibly subpar picture the night before I left. 

Komorebi

Originally published on July 20th, 2017

In Japanese, the word komorebi is used to describe the way light and leaves look when there is sunlight shining through trees. It’s a simple word that describes such a simple thing, but I've always found the simplest things to be the most beautiful anyway. While in Bellingham on our road trip, my mom and I went on a hike and at one point we stopped and I took the picture below. It’s not the best picture I’ve ever taken, but it still embodies a little bit of the light and a little bit of the leaves.

I love words, and I especially love words in other languages that don’t have a direct English translation. Komorebi is one such word, and I love the meaning behind it. The simple things in life are beautiful, and looking for beauty in the ordinary can often lead to the greatest of things.

~ 146 words 

I Grew Up in Gray

Originally published on July 20th, 2017

I grew up in gray
I was raised in such a way to understand that nothing is completely right and nothing is completely wrong; Yin and yang, good and bad
People march to different drums, people run to different songs.
I grew up knowing that it is the differences that make us strong.

Life will hand some of us lemons and some of us limes.
We all have our trials they’re just different kinds,
So don’t hold your nose up in the air like that,
We all go through crap, we all fall flat.

Just because someone is different doesn’t mean they are less,
Give up the stress of division and open your arms to one shared vision.
Just because someone is quiet doesn’t mean they don’t have something to say,
And just because someone stands in the back doesn’t mean that’s where they should stay.

If someone is falling, catch them if you can because I can guarantee that life is not what they planned, and if someone raises their hand let them say what’s on their mind because it doesn’t take much to simply be kind.

Love one another, do something good.
Spread joy in the world, like you’d hope others would.
Open your arms, lend a shoulder, a listening ear,
Look deeper than appearance, and don’t give in to fear.

We are far more alike than they would have us think,
And life is passing us by faster than our eyes can blink,
So let’s not waste more time spreading hate and deceit,
Lift your eyes to the clouds and feel your heartbeat.

It’s a sign that you’re breathing, you’ve made it this far.
And with the life that you’ve lived, you can raise the bar for goodness and kindness and humor and love, you have all it takes, you just need to rise above.

So go, live your life, live it well, live it long.
Meet lots of new people, and know that the differences make us strong.
We can change the world, we just need a little more gray.
We’re all looking for answers, so c’mon, what do you say?

Roadtrip, 2017

When my mom finished her school year, we packed the car and began our three-state road trip.  Our plan was as follows:

1. Go back to Mendocino, California for a day trip 

2. See a play at the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon

3. Go hiking in Bellingham, Washington.

4. Get to Seattle a little early so we could go to Pikes Place together before parting ways- sadly- so I could go work for 2Human Strategies in person for the first time.

It was a good plan. We started preparing a few days in advance and I started counting down the days right away. To be honest, I didn't care where we went as long as I got to spend some extra time with my mom and I got to go to some new places. 

Mendocino (or, the land with no ice cream)

I'd be lying if I said one of our main reasons for going back was simply to get some of the best ice-cream I've ever had. We were sadly disappointed to discover that July 05th is not a good day to visit a small town because there will be lots of tourists and no ice-cream. Even so, we walked along the coast, took lots and lots of pictures (ladybugs included), and drove through a forest of redwoods. It was really good to go back. 

Ashland, Oregon

I have started to notice a trend where whenever I go see a play or musical I feel like crying as soon as it starts. I still have no idea why this is the case, but it always happens. While my mom and I were in Ashland, we saw The Merry Wives of Windsor at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The outdoor theatre was beautiful, and I was very happy to be seeing a play (er, musical?) with my mom. 

Bellingham, Washington

The drive from Ashland to Bellingham was incredibly long, but I'd say it was worth it. On our first official day in Washington, my mom and I went hiking. We'd had a trail in mind but after being unable to find it, we found ourselves somewhere else. It was beautiful, though, and I am very glad we went. 

Seattle, Washington

Before we parted ways, we went to Pikes Place where we stood in the long line at the original Starbucks (worth it, but if I ever go again I'm wearing different shoes) and tried chocolate pasta. After a couple hours, my mom started the drive home and I stayed until I flew back last Friday. I'm in the process of writing a whole post about my time in Seattle, but I'll quickly say that I loved my time there and I think it was important that I went. 

The whole road trip experience was wonderful. I loved visiting new places and, as always, spending a lot of time with my mom. I can't wait for our next series of adventures.