I should be writing a paper that is due in a few hours, but I have a lot on my mind, and reading about Native American religion isn't one of the things. Yesterday (or the day before..) I posted about "summer vacations" and how the experiences I had growing up seem to be nothing like peers of mine here at college. Today, I had a moment I had to laugh at.
"Imagine when you were in high school, you're standing in the middle of the hall, on one side of you is the "preps" and the other side is the dark gothic kids. Imagine how school uniforms would fix this problem."
Okay for starts, I suppose you can say I hung out with the "gothic kids with their band tees" and I still talked to the "preps" because I had classes with them, maybe it is a result of a small school and knowing everyone, I talked to almost anyone in high school unless I had a reason why I didn't like them, some of those reasons were stupid sure, but I don't know that uniforms are this quick fix, lets think of personalities. I am a kept to myself person about my life, and I tend to have a flat expression. The "goth kids" tend to be quiet and kept to themselves, and "preps" tend to be omg soo happy like O m G!
School uniforms aren't a terrible idea, I would have hated them in school, I caught enough hell on days I dyed my hair green or pink. However, the "cliques" will always exist because friendships are more often formed on personality than clothes. First impressions are based on looks, but I have met plenty of attractive guys and pretty girls I could not stand. And I have met some who are really ugly and made wonderful friends.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Macaroni and Cheese and Ham
Easter Dinner.
Everyones always dumbfounded when they ask me what we are having for Easter and I tell them Mac and Cheese and Ham. Its quite a family tradition. When I was nine, my "Grandpa Hoppy" had brain cancer and was in a nursing home, and the hospital. Well we brought him home for Easter, built a wheel chair ramp, prepared the house, and tried to figure out what he could eat. Well, we finally settled on Mac&Cheese, everyone likes it and it was easy enough to make for the crazy dinner we were planning.
This was the last Easter we had with him, the last meal he ate with us, and the last time I seen or spoke to him before he died, the 27th, shortly after Easter day. I remember not wanting to say goodbye and my parents almost having to force me to when they took him back, I hoped if I didn't say it he wouldn't die and he would come back on Sunday morning with a van full of "goodies" tell us to stop watching "mickey mouse" and us ask him what he brought us that week, which usually included bubble bath, which he had us stocked up on for years after he died. Coloring books, cookies and for me, word finds (he got me addicted to them), as well as stuffed animals and toys galore usually filled the bags he brought for us.
I smile on Easter while eating my Mac&Cheese, it is my favorite, much like Hoppy Poppy it was his favorite too.
Everyones always dumbfounded when they ask me what we are having for Easter and I tell them Mac and Cheese and Ham. Its quite a family tradition. When I was nine, my "Grandpa Hoppy" had brain cancer and was in a nursing home, and the hospital. Well we brought him home for Easter, built a wheel chair ramp, prepared the house, and tried to figure out what he could eat. Well, we finally settled on Mac&Cheese, everyone likes it and it was easy enough to make for the crazy dinner we were planning.
This was the last Easter we had with him, the last meal he ate with us, and the last time I seen or spoke to him before he died, the 27th, shortly after Easter day. I remember not wanting to say goodbye and my parents almost having to force me to when they took him back, I hoped if I didn't say it he wouldn't die and he would come back on Sunday morning with a van full of "goodies" tell us to stop watching "mickey mouse" and us ask him what he brought us that week, which usually included bubble bath, which he had us stocked up on for years after he died. Coloring books, cookies and for me, word finds (he got me addicted to them), as well as stuffed animals and toys galore usually filled the bags he brought for us.
I smile on Easter while eating my Mac&Cheese, it is my favorite, much like Hoppy Poppy it was his favorite too.
Summer
Everyone believes that everyone has similar experiences as they do, I have heard a million times just this week about how summer vacations were as children and I find myself learning more than remembering. I grew up in an area where the closest person my age lived a mile away other than my brother. Summer entailed siblings, who had to become your friends not because you necessarily liked them, which at the time they didn't particularly like me anymore than I liked them. They became your best friends because they were all you had. There was not any "hanging out with friends" everyday over summer like most of my peers here say there were, there hardly ever was because it was such an inconvenience to get a ride to their house or vice versa. Don't get me wrong we had friends and we went places, but if we went to a friends over summer it was no more than one night a week or so. As we got older it turned into who has their license and who doesn't. When most people think summer vacation and talk about it I hear about public pools, friends hanging out and playing outside and street vendors.
When I think summer vacations as a kid, I think family, my siblings yelling at my brother and I in the backyard, playing in the stacks of hay in the barn, feeding any animals we snuck home from a family friend's home. (A family friend of ours would give us ducks and chickens and rabbits anything we could catch as kids, and we would go there once every two weeks, we were little dad was busy working there and my mom was working or wanted a break, you can bet we didn't come home empty handed ever.) Summer also involved hay season, which requires a lot of work and even more people arguing about who is right and who is wrong, thats still to this day what summer entails for me, being the only one who is available to help.
In class today, a student was giving a speech on when you think of summer in like second grade you think about hanging out, going to the pool and not picking up a book. Well, we didn't have the friends close enough to play with, we hung out with one another, we went for walks in the woods, which were always interesting experiences -which is why I get told I walk too fast- but thats another story. We worked, played and lived together, which, could be why we have such a strange relationship with one another, girls are not any less than boys, we have arms and can work too, and WE WERE EXPECTED TO.
When I think summer vacations as a kid, I think family, my siblings yelling at my brother and I in the backyard, playing in the stacks of hay in the barn, feeding any animals we snuck home from a family friend's home. (A family friend of ours would give us ducks and chickens and rabbits anything we could catch as kids, and we would go there once every two weeks, we were little dad was busy working there and my mom was working or wanted a break, you can bet we didn't come home empty handed ever.) Summer also involved hay season, which requires a lot of work and even more people arguing about who is right and who is wrong, thats still to this day what summer entails for me, being the only one who is available to help.
In class today, a student was giving a speech on when you think of summer in like second grade you think about hanging out, going to the pool and not picking up a book. Well, we didn't have the friends close enough to play with, we hung out with one another, we went for walks in the woods, which were always interesting experiences -which is why I get told I walk too fast- but thats another story. We worked, played and lived together, which, could be why we have such a strange relationship with one another, girls are not any less than boys, we have arms and can work too, and WE WERE EXPECTED TO.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Initiation story, 11th grade AP English assignment
This is old, some of you may have read it, it is something personal, that I have written and those are usually my best.
The Truth of Acceptance
I had a new best friend, although we really didn't know everything about each other like we lead everyone to believe. We entrusted each other with our deepest darkest secrets from drama to problems with people around us. We were inseparable. If we were at home, we were on the phone. If we were out we were together if it was at all possible. As our friendship grew, we told each other more and more, we came to a point one did not even have to speak and the other understood. We could talk about things as stupid as what to wear to school and what the latest rumor was that as going along.
One day he told me he had something to tell me. Later that day he told me he was gay. I told him he wasn't and he was just trying to trick me. I argued with him for about two days, refusing to believe him. I was kinda homophobic at the time, and to be honest, he knew this. He entrusted me with this deep hidden secret of his regardlessly, thinking I would accept the fact right away. It was in fact a huge risk for him and me being his best friend he figured I would understand. Needless to say I didn't. He was upset about this, but so was I though I wouldn't admit that to him. For days after, he would try to talk to me, I would simply look away. He would call I'd hang up or just not answer. He would try at least once every night.
I regretfully had started a couple of rumors, everyone had always spread rumors of how we were going out and when he told me he was gay I was mad at him. I didn't want to have a gay friend. I didn't want to talk to someone who was gay. So, someone made a comment about how maybe “me and my boyfriend” were fighting. I immediately defended myself by telling the person he was in fact gay. Well, this person was not a big fan of my friend. So, to try to make him mad he spread rumors that he liked a few of the popular guys. It worked, he was upset about it all. He wrote me notes saying so even. I refused to reply back to them.
After days had passed, it occurred to me, no matter what happened he was there for me. I didn't understand in my mind how to apologize, but I knew I had to, for his sake as well as mine. He meant a lot to me and he was the first true best friend I had ever had. So the next morning during homeroom I wrote him a note, after wadding up more than six papers I had it how I wanted – it had to be perfect. It couldn't sound like I was begging for his friendship or if he didn't want my friendship anymore it would look bad. I had to somehow explain that I was sorry, that I felt bad, and how hopefully he could forgive me because he meant a lot to me and was one of my best friends. I also added in that I realized I could never take it back or undo it, but I would always regret it. No matter what I hoped we could still be friends. I always had an easier time writing than telling someone something to their face; but this time even that seemed impossible.
I found someone to give this -newly perfected to the best of my ability- note to him and I was handed one back about ten minutes later sent with the same messenger, a person who we were both friends with at the time. This person told me he said thank you, before handing me the note which I read and couldn't stop smiling afterwards. He explained no matter what I was still his friend. If I wasn't he'd be greatly upset.
Growing up, I was always told to accept people even if they were different than myself. Along with acceptance, I was always told that some things although I did not necessarily agree with I had to grow to deal with. I managed to deal with those I didn't like. I seen few people as being much different than myself for quite some time. People were in fact different, but not enough it bothered me. I have in fact grown apart from this amazing friend of mine, years, distance, and disagreements have brought us apart. Yet I learned, loved, and grew with him - for him. I've learned everyone is different. Nothing sets people so far apart so far that they can't stand each other – or let's rephrase that - it shouldn't. To realize everyone is different and to accept that are two totally different things. There is also a difference in saying you accept people for exactly who they are and actually doing it. You cannot truly accept anything unless you personally see a reason to.
The Truth of Acceptance
I had a new best friend, although we really didn't know everything about each other like we lead everyone to believe. We entrusted each other with our deepest darkest secrets from drama to problems with people around us. We were inseparable. If we were at home, we were on the phone. If we were out we were together if it was at all possible. As our friendship grew, we told each other more and more, we came to a point one did not even have to speak and the other understood. We could talk about things as stupid as what to wear to school and what the latest rumor was that as going along.
One day he told me he had something to tell me. Later that day he told me he was gay. I told him he wasn't and he was just trying to trick me. I argued with him for about two days, refusing to believe him. I was kinda homophobic at the time, and to be honest, he knew this. He entrusted me with this deep hidden secret of his regardlessly, thinking I would accept the fact right away. It was in fact a huge risk for him and me being his best friend he figured I would understand. Needless to say I didn't. He was upset about this, but so was I though I wouldn't admit that to him. For days after, he would try to talk to me, I would simply look away. He would call I'd hang up or just not answer. He would try at least once every night.
I regretfully had started a couple of rumors, everyone had always spread rumors of how we were going out and when he told me he was gay I was mad at him. I didn't want to have a gay friend. I didn't want to talk to someone who was gay. So, someone made a comment about how maybe “me and my boyfriend” were fighting. I immediately defended myself by telling the person he was in fact gay. Well, this person was not a big fan of my friend. So, to try to make him mad he spread rumors that he liked a few of the popular guys. It worked, he was upset about it all. He wrote me notes saying so even. I refused to reply back to them.
After days had passed, it occurred to me, no matter what happened he was there for me. I didn't understand in my mind how to apologize, but I knew I had to, for his sake as well as mine. He meant a lot to me and he was the first true best friend I had ever had. So the next morning during homeroom I wrote him a note, after wadding up more than six papers I had it how I wanted – it had to be perfect. It couldn't sound like I was begging for his friendship or if he didn't want my friendship anymore it would look bad. I had to somehow explain that I was sorry, that I felt bad, and how hopefully he could forgive me because he meant a lot to me and was one of my best friends. I also added in that I realized I could never take it back or undo it, but I would always regret it. No matter what I hoped we could still be friends. I always had an easier time writing than telling someone something to their face; but this time even that seemed impossible.
I found someone to give this -newly perfected to the best of my ability- note to him and I was handed one back about ten minutes later sent with the same messenger, a person who we were both friends with at the time. This person told me he said thank you, before handing me the note which I read and couldn't stop smiling afterwards. He explained no matter what I was still his friend. If I wasn't he'd be greatly upset.
Growing up, I was always told to accept people even if they were different than myself. Along with acceptance, I was always told that some things although I did not necessarily agree with I had to grow to deal with. I managed to deal with those I didn't like. I seen few people as being much different than myself for quite some time. People were in fact different, but not enough it bothered me. I have in fact grown apart from this amazing friend of mine, years, distance, and disagreements have brought us apart. Yet I learned, loved, and grew with him - for him. I've learned everyone is different. Nothing sets people so far apart so far that they can't stand each other – or let's rephrase that - it shouldn't. To realize everyone is different and to accept that are two totally different things. There is also a difference in saying you accept people for exactly who they are and actually doing it. You cannot truly accept anything unless you personally see a reason to.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Fire alarms
I hate fire alarms, I have for about... six years or better? We went to my sisters for thanksgiving one year somehow the fire alarm got set off, we won't go there on how, my sister and her husband might kill each other over it still, (LOL) well the alarm went off for like four hours straight.
I'm writing in a "fiery" color. The building I live in has a nasty habit of having a million fire alarms, usually at times that will simply piss a person off. We were having about 2 a week at least for a while, then one night we had some geniuses play with fire extinguishers at four a.m.. That night we got thrown out of here totally until noon the next day, ended up sleeping in the pews of the chapel on campus. More fire alarms happened. Eventually, they seemed to stop.
Last week there was on in the morning at about seven which I was somewhat pissed off about at first, but I grabbed my ipod and started an email reply to a friend. I finished it when we came in. The fire company took nine minutes to get here that day, they hate us. Well I came in to find a variety of people I wished to speak to on-line and talking to me, so I just stayed up and enjoyed some friends I usually don't have a chance to talk to.
Last night, was another fire alarm, it was warm out, it was only about 845 or so, not a huge deal. Well, after sitting outside for some time as usual the fire trucks left with their sirens on, another call, and we assumed pissed like usual. The ice cream truck decided to drive up and down the street continually, its like 9 at night and its Monday, what the heck? Come to find out the first time ever, no one was trying to cook, or make ramen without water, or even burn popcorn. Also, no one pulled any alarms, or played with any fire extinguishers. It wasn't set off by dust or hair straighteners either.
It was rather amusing, the building actually almost did catch on fire because of a fan over heating and everyone was laughing and smiling about it when we came back in, its amazing how you get so used to stupidity for once when it's serious it's nice to know that its not just an idiot being dumb.
I'm writing in a "fiery" color. The building I live in has a nasty habit of having a million fire alarms, usually at times that will simply piss a person off. We were having about 2 a week at least for a while, then one night we had some geniuses play with fire extinguishers at four a.m.. That night we got thrown out of here totally until noon the next day, ended up sleeping in the pews of the chapel on campus. More fire alarms happened. Eventually, they seemed to stop.
Last week there was on in the morning at about seven which I was somewhat pissed off about at first, but I grabbed my ipod and started an email reply to a friend. I finished it when we came in. The fire company took nine minutes to get here that day, they hate us. Well I came in to find a variety of people I wished to speak to on-line and talking to me, so I just stayed up and enjoyed some friends I usually don't have a chance to talk to.
Last night, was another fire alarm, it was warm out, it was only about 845 or so, not a huge deal. Well, after sitting outside for some time as usual the fire trucks left with their sirens on, another call, and we assumed pissed like usual. The ice cream truck decided to drive up and down the street continually, its like 9 at night and its Monday, what the heck? Come to find out the first time ever, no one was trying to cook, or make ramen without water, or even burn popcorn. Also, no one pulled any alarms, or played with any fire extinguishers. It wasn't set off by dust or hair straighteners either.
It was rather amusing, the building actually almost did catch on fire because of a fan over heating and everyone was laughing and smiling about it when we came back in, its amazing how you get so used to stupidity for once when it's serious it's nice to know that its not just an idiot being dumb.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Letters that will never be read, or even sent
If I sent you here to see my pictures scroll down and hit "older posts," I post almost every day now and I want to keep posting.
I think at some point we all have probably had something we wanted to tell someone so bad that we felt like we had to. Sometimes what I would like to say would end up hurting those I love. I don't want to hurt my friends, and I don't want to control the choices they make.
I hate some of the actions my friends take when it comes to relationships, nothing tops that. I also know some of my friends bit their lips when I screwed up, and more importantly and recently when I blew one of my best friends off for a guy, hes done the same, but not like I did. I was never so thankful for that friend I blew off when I called him crying after my boyfriend and I broke up after not talking to him in about a month or better and I wasn't even suppose to talk to him before that.
The moral of that is essentially the quote "Some people walk in and out of your lives but your true friends leave footprints in your heart." I hate things my best friends have done, and yet for some odd reason even when these things hurt me and they have put me in tears on multiple occasions, I still can't hold it against them. They are perfect to me, even if thats a bit messed up.
Back to the letter, I wanted to type an email to someone, but I felt like they probably shouldn't read it, at least not yet. They probably never will, but while I was writing it I felt better. I rant to people a lot, I always have, but I haven't found anyone I could tell what I wrote (or rather typed) in that letter (aka notepad on itouch).
Sometimes I think we all need to do something to express whats on our minds, some people draw or paint, I am essentially retarded when it comes to both of those so I write. And I write a lot, the letter that resulted last night has been something I am not willing to share with anyone, and it has been weighing on me for about a month now, I needed it to become something, so it didn't seem like it was so, secret anymore. I'm terrible with secrets, I always end up too willing to tell them, even if they are good.
I think at some point we all have probably had something we wanted to tell someone so bad that we felt like we had to. Sometimes what I would like to say would end up hurting those I love. I don't want to hurt my friends, and I don't want to control the choices they make.
I hate some of the actions my friends take when it comes to relationships, nothing tops that. I also know some of my friends bit their lips when I screwed up, and more importantly and recently when I blew one of my best friends off for a guy, hes done the same, but not like I did. I was never so thankful for that friend I blew off when I called him crying after my boyfriend and I broke up after not talking to him in about a month or better and I wasn't even suppose to talk to him before that.
The moral of that is essentially the quote "Some people walk in and out of your lives but your true friends leave footprints in your heart." I hate things my best friends have done, and yet for some odd reason even when these things hurt me and they have put me in tears on multiple occasions, I still can't hold it against them. They are perfect to me, even if thats a bit messed up.
Back to the letter, I wanted to type an email to someone, but I felt like they probably shouldn't read it, at least not yet. They probably never will, but while I was writing it I felt better. I rant to people a lot, I always have, but I haven't found anyone I could tell what I wrote (or rather typed) in that letter (aka notepad on itouch).
Sometimes I think we all need to do something to express whats on our minds, some people draw or paint, I am essentially retarded when it comes to both of those so I write. And I write a lot, the letter that resulted last night has been something I am not willing to share with anyone, and it has been weighing on me for about a month now, I needed it to become something, so it didn't seem like it was so, secret anymore. I'm terrible with secrets, I always end up too willing to tell them, even if they are good.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Wonderful day
I have been pretty stressed so, today was amazing <3 heres pics to prove it! Spring is here!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)