Thunderstorm

The sky grew dark
The air went cold
A massive cloud
Blocked the sun's gold

The scent of wet earth
Filled up my nose
Out of the dirt
The earthworms rose

The storm was brewing
Before my eyes
A flash of lightning
Lit up the skies

The thunder followed
With a furious roar
Rattling my bones
And striking my core

The slow-falling rain
Had picked up the pace
It shot at the grass
And pelted my face

The wrath of the storm
Pulsed out all around
Nature's raw power
Free and unbound

Not gonna be a potato this summer!

I got the idea from a friend to make a summer bucket list. I know it's not really the correct use of the term bucket list, but you get my point. Here are my 42 goals for the summer of 2012:

1. Learn to play a piano accompaniment with song of choice
2. Learn to do proper 'A La Secondes'
3. Climb a tree
4. Find an easier way to dust blinds (they're the dustier things in the house, and they take forever to wipe off)
5. Write a song
6. Create a piano accompaniment to go along with the song I write
7. Write at least 5 poems
8. Post on this blog at least 7 times (this does not count!)
9. Take at least 10 photos on each vacation and trip
10. Take a photo of myself each day without makeup
11. At the end of summer, upload the self-taken photos into a montage, dates included (just to see change over time)
12. Read at least 6 books for fun
13. Finish Persepolis (high school reading requirement)
14. Finish reading requirement questions
15. Finish Persepolis book report
16. Take a virtual class
17. Tack on at least 10 volunteer/community service hours
18. Do Zumba Wii at least once a week while at home (so much fun, and a great workout)
19. Practice volleyball with the other chicks trying out next year
20. Practice dance with friends who are actually good at it
21. Come up with my own dance routine
22. Save up and buy a laptop
23. Write thank-you note to Grandma and Grandpa for the movie passes, recycled-juice box handbag (which I adore), and check towards laptop
24. Send random e-cards to parents every week
25. Go one week without cell-phone games (embarrassing to admit, but I'm highly addicted to them)
26. Go to a concert with friends
27. Throw a party
28. Smile and wave at a random stranger :)
29. Put post-it notes with inspirational quotes on them in at least 3 different public bathroom facilities
30. Keep finger and toe nails clean and painted at all times
31. Go one week without picking my skin ANYWHERE (for those who don't know, I have a horrible problem with picking me skin, and I am desperate to stop before it starts to permanently scar)
32. Wear retainer for at least 2 weeks straight (I always forget, and I can't let my teeth shift too much, or else it's back to braces I go 8/)
33. Sell iPod Touch, Nintendo DS, and DS games (they've been sitting unused in a corner of my room for quite some time now, and I'm pretty sure someone could find a use for them at the next community garage sale)
34. Upload at least 3 videos to YouTube (I love to rant, and if you lien you can visit my channel, OnMyWayToWherever)
35. Add at least one charm to Pandora bracelet
36. Walk the dog at least 3 times a week while at home
37. Stretch at least 3 times a week
38. Get into a full split on both legs (almost there!)
39. Learn to do a proper messy bun (feel free to call me stupid, I know this is a very simple task for those of you average humans)
40. Hang out with at least 2 different friends each week (determined not to stay holed up in my room this summer)
41. Learn to cook at least 4 different dishes (I am fairly self sufficient in every way except for cooking. That I have no experience with whatsoever)
42. Cook a full meal on my own for my family once a month

And there you have it, folks. Wish me luck!

Escape

This room is growing dimmer.

Dark will come upon soon.

All I see is the glimmer

Of the faint, cloud-covered moon.

All that’s left is the shimmer

Going, going, gone too soon.

This, too, is inevitably fading

Even as we speak.

All the while, I keep on waiting

For the evasive light I seek.

All the while, it continues to be

Too distant, far too weak.

Pitch black now, I felt around

For any sort of guide.

My hopes were being drowned

Ebbing like the tide.

I slid down the wall, sank to my knees,

Tipped back my head and sighed.

It was I who the darkness would swallow.

To the black, I prepared to give in.

But I brushed against something hollow

And metallic, sort of like tin.

Tilting the can, liquid sloshed around inside

And oil spilt from within.

New faith emerged in a flash,

The tide rising once more.

Swelling like a breaker and falling with a crash

Soaking the dry, sandy shore.

The oil could help me escape.

I could use it – but what for?

I rose upon my trembling feet

With outstretched hands that fumbled

For something else to aid my retreat –

Then onto a box I stumbled.

It held very little, for when it tipped over

Out a flint and steel tumbled.

The final piece to my puzzle,

The missing link in my plan,

Was worth the aching muscle.

It sat in the palm of my hand.

I knew exactly what to do –

And I made my way back to the can.

Dunking the steel in the oil,

I took on a resolute stance.

Into friction the pieces were embroiled,

And the sparks began to dance.

Then flame engulfed them both –

This was my only chance.

I threw the two at the box,

Setting the whole thing aglow.

The hue of an autumn fox

Took over the ground below.

It’s strange to think I was so helpless,

So discouraged, not long ago.

Wide open I kept my eyes

As I dodged the flames across the floor.

Keeping my eyes on the prize,

I headed toward the door.

Once upon a time, not long ago,

I was trapped – but not anymore.

I was restless.
Tossing, turning, and writhing
Under my fleecy teal quilt.
I was too hot, too cold,
Too fidgety to find peace.
Whatever attempts I made
At grasping this evasive
Thing called sleep
All proved futile.
As long as worry
Was my opponent in battle
I doubted I should ever prevail.
I felt trapped in this empty room.
The empty drawers
Of my empty dresser
Moaned for old memories
To fill their voids.
This old, blank mirror
Reflected my blank expression
- or, so it seemed blank.
There was so much more
Going on behind these bars
These bars I erected
To hide others from
My reality.
This mirror reflected
Only the mask
Of what I pretend to be.
But, it's known me long enough
To know that this is my disguise.
As it has wizened
Along with me
And the reflection feels as I do.
My eyes and mind
Wander aimlessly around
For a little while longer.
That's when I turn
And take notice to the shutters.
Iridescent moonlight
Trying to pass through -
But blocked by
The dark silhouettes of the blinds.
And after much thought,
I realize that
These squeaky wooden shutters
Reflect my image
No more, no less
That does that old, dusty mirror
I've looked into so many times.
And this is what they both show:
A mask, a disguise
A cover of some sort
Designed to conceal
What lies behind.
But somewhere, somewhere deeper
If you look closely enough
One can see the truth
Peeking out, here and there,
In any available gap.
Just then, a fist -
Could it have been my own? -
Is pumped forward
By an untamed power
Of release
Of freedom
Of madness.
Chunks of sharp, broken glass
Are crushed smaller and smaller
Until I have obscured any view
To the reflection they once showed.
I whipped around to face the shutters
Tore off the latch
And ripped them open
With a violent yank.
The doors flew open with a clash.
I stood there for a moment,
Allowing myself to be exposed
To the unconcealed light
The uncovered power
The fully revealed truth.
Magnetizing, it was.
It kept pulling, pulling
Pulling me in.
With one swift shove,
I threw up the sash
Extended my arms
And took to the open night sky.

California ~ all it's cracked up to be!r

Unlike the overrated tourist destinations back home in Orlando, I've found that the Golden State isn't just all hype. I love how nature and development are so interspersed here, and how hills and buildings coexist so that the buildings jut right out of the earth. The weather isn't extreme in any way, the air is fresh, and the sun is always shining at an angle that seems to make everyone content. At least in San Diego. Residents would probably tell me otherwise, but as far as I've observed, it's been nothing but everything I want in city: sunny, modern, artistic, musical, and highly focused on preserving the environment. I love the culture here, the priorities of the communities, the architecture, the views from up high, the harbors, the seals, the foliage, the flowers, the cute little apartments downtown, how dog-friendly it is... I just love, love, love! I'd move here in a heartbeat if I could. One of my favorite things I've been doing here, other than checking out the clusters of tiny art studios of sculptors, painters, jewelry-makers and glass-blowers, has been taking pictures (of quite a lot!). I've gone through my phone (I promise, one day I'll get a legit camera) and narrowed it down to several favorites that I'll post here. Enjoy!

                                                                  I love Koi ponds.

                               How lucky I was to find this view completely empty of people!

 If you happen to notice the duck perched on an above-ground root just to the left of the base of the trunk, you can tell just how small it is in retrospect to this mammoth tree.

                                                              The botanical garden

                                                                 AMAZING view...

A very opportune moment, successfully taken advantage of. I caught this adorable baby bunny looking at me in the japanese garden :D

                                       I have no clue what these are, but I liked this close-up.

                                      Bonsai garden - another one of my all time favorite things.

 Liked this view

Newlyweds in Cali!

I've been in San Diego for the past 4 days or so for my uncle and his fiance's (now wife!) wedding. It was on St. Patrick's Day at the House of Hospitality in Balboa Park. In the spirit of the holiday, the bridesmaid's dresses were olive-leafy green (despite the hideous cost our matching J Crew attire, I will probably never wear it again due to the unusual color and suffocating fit). Not only was there an Irish theme to the reception, but the sunny coastal city seemed to have attracted some Irish weather to match (luckily, rain on your wedding day is apparently good fortune). We were all freezing out in the chilly wind and rain in our tiny dresses while the photographer took what seemed to be 50 snapshots of the same position. However, after we got all this over with, the fun part began. The gaggle of groomsmen, bridesmaids, flower girls and the ring bearer ducked inside to begin the ceremony. This is when I began to see that side of my uncle I didn't know existed until he met his soul mate (I'll call her 'D'). Let me give you a little of his background history:

He's always been the goofy guy who lacked common sense, responsibility, and often needed a reality check. He's got the brains of an engineer and plays saxaphone like a pro. Great potential, really, but his music kept him from the lifestyle he wanted. He was always more of an "I can't" or "I don't feel like trying" person. I guess a better way of putting it would be that he lacked direction up into his mid-thirties. For some time after he divorced his first wife, C, he got into drinking and was caught several times drunk driving.

Until, while kayaking in Kuwait, he met her. The woman that gave him a reason to change. And she obviously brought out that rational, responsible, more sensible(ish) side of him. One that would even make a good father.

Anyhoo, the wedding was lighthearted, cheerful, and fun. Some of his band buddies played a few upbeat celtic ditties for which everyone went footloose and didn't hesitate to kick off their sunday shoes. I managed to keep my crazy little cousins under control (they didn't break anything! Props to me!). The wedding cake was exceptional, to say the least. Everyone had a marvelous time mingling with friends of family and family of friends. Back at the hotel, I flopped down on the bed, exhausted. I tore off my dress, shawl and heels, yanked on a shirt, and passed out under the covers.

I had my moment.

Phew. I feel a bit better after getting all that off my chest last night. But since then I've become more secure with myself. The one thing I forgot and totally left out of the picture whilst pouring out the contents of my mind is how much time I still have. I have got to remember that I am still so young. Not even in high school yet - I'll just be turning 14 this month. The last thing I want to do is grow up too fast. Letting all those thoughts out made me realize just how tightly I am clinging to my innocence. Nothing gold can stay, I know, but nevertheless I will try my hardest to make it last.

Can I just say that poem is one that speaks to me more than any other? It's the story of my life. Reading it makes me feel... Closer to God, I suppose. The piece speaks of purity, innocence - life before it is hardened by knowledge and reality. It makes me think of Adam and Eve before they ate fruit from the tree of knowledge. Of young children unaware of and unexposed to evil. They get this baffled look on their faces when they hear of some horrible thing that someone has done, because they simply cannot fathom WHY or HOW it was done.

I think if the world could view itself through the eyes of a child, it would be in for a very rude awakening.

I refuse to leave this life without making my mark in this world.

I'm really not sure how to begin this. But if I don't then it will eat me up inside.

I read posts from the blog of an artist that inspires me. And what I've realized during the whole process is just how shallow I am in comparison.

He wrote about his dreams at night. His emotions. His daydream travels and internal idiosyncrasies. All so beautifully scripted and naturally flowing, as if he hadn't even tried . And the truth of it is, he didn't. It was his own personal release of things kept inside and never exposed to those outside his world.

I read everything, stayed up hours into the night, awestruck with how he poured his heart out. I was unaware that any human being had the capacity to bear such thoughts and emotions. I know I certainly don't, in spite of the fact that I've often been considered a girl of deeper, darker thoughts, with wisdom for my age.

The thing is... I want to have that capacity. I feel as if it is the only thing that let him get to the place he is now. It is what influences so many people to follow him, to admire him. It is what makes one desire to have a significant role in his life, in hopes that maybe you should be that one who caught his attention, the one he wants to figure out and get to know better. A foolish fantasy for many, but impossible to let go of.

I want to be that person who inspires others to look a little further inside themselves. However, I feel like in order to be that person, something has to traumatize me first. I mean, really, let's be honest - all those well-known people who are renowned for their wisdom, emotion, creativity, spirituality, raw talent, etc., and none of it is because of looks or any lucky privilege they had been conveniently graced with - they all had some kind of horrid tragedy happen to them. Or perhaps they had their own inner anxieties and conflicts that haunted them throughout childhood or began as they became a young adult. Either way, I've pretty much deduced that in order to be the person I desperately want to become, I have to have either been born a little insane (as much as I would liked to have been, this is not the case) or something will have to turn my world upside down - very soon.

Is it weird that I envy the people who are endowed with bursting emotion, thought and creativity, knowing that it is basically guaranteed to be served with a side of insanity from birth? Am I wishing something upon myself that I should feel lucky not to be automatically burdened with? In the words they put down, it is obvious that they are lacking in many essential areas: sleep, satisfaction with themselves, and, depending on the artist, socializing. These are all things that I have a little phobia of lacking. But even still... I want to make the impact they've made. And in the same manner as they have too - raw, effortlessly, without putting thought into what will please who, and without the constant worry of who they will disappoint, who will be left unimpressed. It is who they are that puts their followers in such awe and admiration of them - and what could be more effortless that being who you are?

But who I am is not impressive.
I am all too average to leave anyone "wonderstruck".

Key West vacation

This vacation tops all others. Nothing is structured, yet you're still out and about doing the things you enjoy. Our little cottage is quaint and adorned with several paintings and plants. The beds are unbelievably comfy - once you sleep in one, you'll never want to get up. The culture is much more relaxed and friendly than that of our redneck town back home. Most of the good clothing shops sell things that make you feel as if you're wearing a work of art (the other ones make you look like a slut, douche bag or a bad parent). Most of the guys here are really hot, but unfortunately almost all of them are gay. But that's alright, gay men are fun to talk to. Out on Duvall Street at night, it's pretty amusing to see just how trashed everyone gets. The good thing is we haven't encountered a drunk person yet who isn't friendly. According to the locals, the best time to drink and party is "every single freakin' night". I can't imagine what it will be like tonight - happy New Year, party people! Apparently a drag queen is going to be lowered down on a rope from an oversized conch shell suspended in the air. Should be interesting. Anyway here's some pictures from the trip do far.

The Church During Advent

We tiptoed up the steps

Onto the hushed balcony

Looming over the church worship center.

A band of young students

Instruments in laps

Sat silently awaiting their cue to play.

The conductor himself

An eccentric man indeed.

If ever a man could become one with the music, it was he.

He perched his hands

Above his head

As if the air would release them in time with the music.

The first bells rang

And the ode commenced.

The timpani boomed out to each and every ear.

The piano keys

Bobbed up and down

When two familiar voices rose out of the medley.

The guitarist man

And the lady in purple.

Their voices linked hands and sang out in unison.

His eyes were accented

With wrinkles from laughter.

His drawl that sounded of a slow-flowing creek.

Her eyes, like that

Of a mothering doe.

Round, wide, and seeing for miles.

They sang of the story

Of the first Noel

When God sent our savior in the form of a baby.

The hymn then ceased

And came to a close.

The last bits of music faded away with grace.

Hate to say I told you so, BUT...

So, folks, I suppose that you remember my post about my wonderful encounter with Coach O'Niell when I confronted her about our group dance? Yeah. Well, based on the praise we received from the audience, it turns out that her highness - (gasp) - was, believe it or not, WRONG. My first thought we walked onto the gym floor was "all right guys, if we screw up, just laugh it off and act like nothing happened." As it turned out, we had nothing to fear. As soon as we began our first segment of the dance, the crowd of students erupted into applause. Before we knew it countless people were fist pumping to the beat, shouting out "WOOHOO" followed by one of our names. I was surprised to hear mine called out several times. Every time the remix (that I made and am very proud of) faded out and switched to another segment of a song, there was an immediate round of whooping and cheering. We undoubtedly received the biggest applause of all the groups. Coach O'Niell's expression when we were finished just made my day. Not one muscle in her face attempted to hide just how furious she was that the crowd had loved our dance so much, while she had spent weeks turning her nose up at it in any way possible. Every day something else was bad about it. Then we perform for the people whose opinions actually matter to us, and we get the most rewarding reaction we could have asked for. Coach can suck it.

4 things NOT to buy online

So, lately, I've had some REALLY bad online shopping experiences lately, what with holiday shopping and all. And I've since realized that there are definitely some products you have to buy in stores. Here's my list of 4: 1. Makeup. For one, you have no sure way of determining the shade of anything because it all looks different on a screen. Often times the picture only shows you a solid color, not showing the texture or sheen of the makeup. There's no way of knowing how well the product blends or how natural it looks - sometimes you can't trust the reviews because others use different brushes and some are better at applying the product than others. Another problem: say some kind of chemical irritates your skin, or you have an allergy. Can't read the ingredients (at least not on every site I've checked). You can't sample anything. There are just so many factors involved that you can't test online. 2. Fragrance. That's pretty self explanatory - can't try the scent! Unless you've sampled the perfume/cologne in a magazine or store before, and you remember liking it, then this is a really dumb thing to do. Period. 3. Clothes. Especially pants, because everyone is built so differently in their lower body. Even if you know the brand and know your size, the pants could still end up not flattering you. Some brands run large and some small. Sometimes the way the pants are made just fets too tight in one area, and maybe it's got this one feature on it that's really unappealing, and it never ahowed up in the online picture. Shirts are less risky because they're usually more conforming to one's specific shape, but can still end you up dissapointed when you recieve the package. Shoes - again, different sizes for different brands. 4. Cheap designer goods. If you see an ad telling you about these Gucci jewelry and Burberry handbags for ridiculously low prices, that should be a big red flag with "counterfeit" written all over it. Chances are, if it sounds too good to be true, it is. And now you know. Thanks for reading!

This really hurt to hear

So, in 7th period today (a dance class I was put into regardless of my elective choices) each of our groups had to perform our own choreographed dances in front of coach O'Niell and the rest of the class. Of course, it had to be on the day when we are missing 3 people from our group, including the only one of us who has any dancing talent whatsoever. It ended up only being two of us, just me and a girl who's been absent a lot this year. Because of her absence, we had spent a lot of time trying to get her caught up on the choreography. I'm going to be completely honest with you, and I guaruntee you the other girl would say the same about herself: I am neither coordinated nor graceful in any way, point blank. I just don't dance. But, since I'm in this class, I'll do what I can. After mustering up the courge to get out in the center of the gym to perform our barely-practiced dance, practically on my own, I got up there and dis my best to remember to stick to the beat and remember the moves. I think I did alright at first, but then I got off beat after the other girl accidentally tripped. It would have been no big deal, if it weren't for our killjoy of a gym teacher, coach O'Niell, glaring right at us. At last we finished the dance. And you know what we recieved as feedback after weeks of working, editing, and creating the custom music and dance moves? Insults. From the teacher herself. All I got to hear about was how short it was and how sloppy it looked - right to my face in front of the entire gym period. The second after I attempted to explain the reason for something, she cut me off and retorted back at me with one of the harshest things I've ever heard from a teacher, and I quote: "You know what? No, you listen to me, that was painful, downright painful, for me to watch. The entire audience is sitting here wincing at how awful that looked. Even though that was only a 2-minute piece, I was just waiting for it to end. And if you don't get that dance cleaned up by tomorrow, your entire group has zeros for their mid-term exam grade." Even after that verbal punch in the stomach, I pulled myself together enough to calmly ask her if it was mandatory we perform for the school. Again, she answered that we would all have zeros if we didn't. I was inclined to say "Well, you're obviously embarrased to have me as a student... After all, if I'm not going to be your pride and joy, why show it off to the audience?!". Good Lord. And I have that woman next semester too...

Florida's new divorce laws: more hell for me

So, recently, state courts changed the divorce laws here so that they now do not entitle the main caregiver to nearly as much child support as previously. My parents are about to separate, and it's getting ugly. Since my father refuses to let go of his unnessecary grudge toward my mother, who did nothing, he refuses to give any more child support than is required by the law. He has some stupid paranoia that my mother is going to use that money for her own benefit. What a typical male - understands nothing of how selfless a mother becomes when it comes down to the well being of her children. Basically, this leaves him free as a bird to spend his $200,000 annual salary on whatever he pleases, on his own, while my mother, sister and I are left on nothing but child support - pretty much equivilent to miminum wage of a zoo technician. Not to mention she is out of work, and will be for some time until she gets the required education to begin her teaching career (and that job doesn't offer much financial support either). And, of course, all this crap had to spring up around Christmas time - way to go, Dad. I love him as my father, but I look with scorn upon him as my mother's husband.

Laying it on the line

A confrontational letter I wrote addressed to my father. Contemplating whether to show it to him or not.

Dear Dad ~

I can't pretend I don't know what's going on anymore. Through everything I've heard I have tried my absolute hardest to remain as neutral as possible. But at this point I have to confront you. Honestly, I'm afraid for my future.

And

My main fear is child support. Do you have some sort of paranoia that Mom will take the child support money into her own possession? I don't think you quite understand how selfless a mother becomes when it comes to providing for her children. Taking 50% custody in order to make sure she isn't paying for things of her own with that money is, in my opinion, showing an unnecessary and begrudging lack of trust. I don't know if you realize just how little the three of us would be living on compared to now - it's a bare minimum. And the money you'll be raking in - what exactly do you plan to do with that all on your own? Please don't leave C and I high and dry just because of your own personal issues between you and Mom.

I wish I could tell you this all in person, but unfortunately that just won't work. I know you would interrupt me saying that I'm completely off, that I'm hearing some kind of twisted version of the story, and somehow I'll end up being wrong. I won't be able to get my point across, and since email has pretty much been the gist of all forms of communication between us in the past six months, I figured this would do just fine. Please don't forget that I love you and I'm only opposing you because my future is more dependent on your choices than you may realize.

Love,

H

PS: Please don't make me go on this catamaran trip with the cousins. I don't know what made you think I would feel OK about going after you spent twenty minutes spilling to me about all the different ways life with them is chaotic and how much disrespect they show toward others. They never paid attention to us anyway, and even you can't deny that. I'm sure you have memory of the Christmas we spent up there in 2010.

A look back on summer days past

I'm dealing with a bout of insomnia right now, and I'm feeling a little nostalgic, so I figure there's no better place to express it that here.

Yellow dog barks through the screen

A cluster of kids on the trampoline
Relay races, squirrel chases
Beating sun and bright red faces
Bathing suits and crowded beaches
Picnic blankets, Georgia peaches
Late-night talks and midnight walks
Brand-new pool toys in a box
A golf club swing, a football pass
Sprinkler play in the centipede grass
Cherry popsicle colored tongue
Country songs and doorbells rung
Small boys in baggy swim trunks
Fruit punch and watermelon chunks
Tailgate parties and barbeque
Fireworks red, white, and blue
Towhead blonde hair turning green
From the local pool and all the chlorine
Anti-insect outdoor candles
Two-wheel scooters with rubber handles
Lawn chair forts and tree branch huts
Hot metal bleachers with burning butts
Young romance, summer flings
Lizards dart, a cardinal sings
Gaggles of kids chasing ice cream trucks
Elderly couples feeding the ducks
On a wood-deck porch, an old ginger cat
Rests her paws on the welcome mat
While that same yellow dog I mentioned before
Continues barking mindlessly through that screen door.

~sleepinl8

Let Me Out... Please

When people say that childhood is what you spend the rest of your life trying to get over... They weren't kidding, huh?

Even though its only about 4 weeks into the school year, I'm already hating 8th grade. Most of my friends have left me behind. I can't focus on anything anymore. I can barely get the determination to sit and post on this blog. I used to be such an overachiever who always got everything done in time. I used to have everything worked out on my own, for the most part. What's happened to me?

I haven't turned in one assignment on time in the past month. I haven't yet caught the bus without making a mad dash to the bus stop. I haven't left school even slightly content with me day so far. I'm terribly depressed in all my classes, mostly due to loneliness. In a way, loneliness is a sort of fear for me, but it's something I can't change once I'm feeling it. I guess that's probably why I fear it so much.

I just wish everyone could understand my depression - I'm not shy, I'm not snobbish, I'm not anti-social. I'm just surrounded by this foggy cloud that looms around my head 24/7. I want people to know that this is not who I am. Depression is not my identity. Loneliness is not what I want.

Even my very best friends seem to be moving upward and onward without me. Sure, they still talk to me and like me - but something's changed. There are people I didn't know they were friends with, things I didn't know they regularly participated in - I feel so out of it. And the worst part is, they assume that my dead expressions and tired attitude mean "I don't care". So, naturally, they just find someone more lively to talk to.

Should I just put on an act? I know pretending to be someone your not isn't the right thing to do, but it seems faking my feelings might be the only thing to bring me closer to others. Problem is, that's nearly impossible for me to do. I can't just shove my depression under the bed - it's carved into everything I say and do, everywhere I go, how I react, the way I see things. I've lost my gift of humor somewhere along the way this past summer. I'm no longer any help to people who need advice, like I always was before. All the gifts of my character have been taken... and my flaws remain.

I've prayed and prayed and prayed. I've never questioned how I pray and what I pray about before, but now I'm beginning to. Am I praying too much for myself? Or is it OK to incessantly request aid in wishing away the hazy fog that follows me? Should I offer to do good deeds that please God when I pray for help from Him? Am I not doing enough on my own to change? Am I not believing in Him enough? Am I not doing enough to worship Him?

I just don't know. My brain is a total mess as is... I needn't further confuse myself. My apologies for the pity party. There's nothing else to post about since I'm not a virtuoso in photography or creative writing, nor am I traveling the world as a church missionary.

~sleepinl8

My favorite nursery rhyme

Ladies and gentlemen,
Hobos and tramps,
Cross-eyed mosquitoes
And bow-legged ants,
Pull up a chair
And sit on the floor,
I'll tell you a story
I haven't heard before.

One bright day
In the middle of night,
Two dead boys
Got up to fight,
Back to back
They faced each other,
Drew their swords,
And shot each other.

Two deaf policeman
Heard the noise,
Came and killed
The two dead boys.
If you don't believe
That this lie is true,
Ask the blind man.
He saw it too.

I thought I was going to keep up with this blogging thing!

Holy cow, has it been a while or what? Looks like I failed to fulfill my promise made in the previous post. Whoops. Good lord, where do I start?

Well, let's see... school ended, of course, and on a good note. As I said I would be before, I finished the year a week and a half early in order to join my best friend on a trip to Mackinac Island, which her family so kindly invited me to come on. We spent four days driving up there. The first day we spent in a 6-person max pickup truck, but managed to squeeze seven in there. We started driving at 11PM on the night of May 27th. We were originally going to leave by five, but there was a holdup, I'm assuming. We drove through the night, parked at a rest stop so that her dad, who was driving, could get a few hours of sleep. The only problem was that there was no AC (the car was off) and a lot of people, which makes for a lot of heat. Not to mention we were in Georgia in summertime.

So the following day we arrived at the RV place and transferred all the luggage into the RV. The AC was a huge relief. We got going as soon as we could and drove off with the windows open and the AC blasting. And we drove for 3 more days like that, pretty comfortable with enough space and amenaties for the lot of us.

On that fourth day, we parked the RV outside the ferry harbor. Porters gathered up our mountains of luggage and Saran-wrapped it to a giant bellhop cart. They put our bikes (neccesary for transportation because of the 'no motor vehicles' law) in the ferry's cargo. In the meantime, we boarded to ferry and scanned the scenery. We could see several landmarks on the island, but perhaps the most predominant was the Grand Hotel, locally known on the island as 'The Grand'. Now, her family had already taken a few trips to Mackinac in past years, but this was my first time. How strange it was to see such high elevation, especially on an island! The highest points above sea level in Florida are the overpasses! We all continued to marvel at Mackinac's beauties until we came ashore.

There, we unloaded our biked and watched as several porters pedaled by, all carrying equal portions of our luggage. We headed down the street past horse-drawn buggies, countless fudge shops and cutesy cottages for rent, when we found our place. It was a mauve-lavender townhome complex with 5 or so townhomes connected. If you stood on the front porch and looked out ahead, you would see a large dandelion field and then a tiny road separating the field into two - the second half, further to the right, was a big slope with lots of lanscaped flowers. Down the slope and further to the right was another road, small golf course, and a tavern where a live band often performed classics in the evening. Coming inside the house was surprising, for it seemed much bigger than it had appeared to be from the outside. There were 3 stories - big, open kitchen - living room area downstairs and bedrooms on the second and third floors. It was veyr clean and quaint, with short, cream-colored carpeting and nautical-beachy themed furnishings. Molly and I finally decided on a room after switching at least three times. Although the other kids picked out rooms of their own, by the first night we spent there, they were all sound asleep in our room on blankets and blowup-beds, the soft hum and glow of the TV continuing through the night.

I'll give you the gist of how we passed the time during our stay - as you might have guessed, there was LOTS of biking involved. Nearly every day we would mash down on the pedals, furiously trying to bike up a hill so that we could lose ourselves in the lush, enclosed woods. Tiny trails in every direction. Scenic rocks with nooks and crannies perfect for climbing. The air unbelievably crisp and clean, for there was no exhaust in the air. Glorious temperatures and very sunny as well - you'd think I'd be OK with a few more cozy, rainy days hence the fact that I live in the sunshine state, but I never do seem to get sick of it.

Other than biking, we went downtown (or whatever you would call the 2-block shopping area that sat by the shore) several times to  look over souvenirs. A couple of stores were the usual chinsy, tourist-town, trading-post style shops, but a lot of them were actually really pleasant! Plus, the souvenirs there were surprisingly unique - for example, there's this specific hat that I saw nearly every kid walking around on the island wearing. I HAD to buy one, of course. I would post a picture, however I don't have the hat with me while I'm on vacation. I'll get to that later.

So we spent our days outside with her cousins, checking out the so-called 'downtown' area, and of course, biking and exploring. In addition to this daily routine we also went to tour The Grand, rent a horse-and-buggy to ride around the island, hang out in an abandoned theatre, and eventually get what you cannot leave the island without buying: fudge. Oh, and saltwater taffy. Mmm...

Soon I come to find out that they were planning on staying at the island longer than they said before. I was told that we'd be back by June 10th, however, it turns out they meant leaving the island by the 10th. This was a problem because I had to be back by the tenth max to be able to join my family on a month-long trip to Virginia to visit family. So what ended up happening was, we drove to the Detroit airport, and of course, there's nowhere to park the huge RV, and they had to idle outside the gate by the curb. Inside I wenr to get my baggage checked and my ticket with her dad, when suddenly we find out that the airport staff chaperone that my parents paid extra for and called in to make sure about, is nowhere to be found. And so, since I was an unaccompanied minor, her dad had to get past security with me and wait with me at the gate. Since he's the only one who knew how to drive the RV, we had no choice but to let it idle there outside the gate. And of course, that's when the cops came over to her mom, who was waiting at the RV, and reprimanded her. she explained the whole complicated situation  to them and they eventually let her stay there until I boarded the plane and the dad could come back to the RV and drive it away from the curb. I could not thank them enough for doing that for me.

Sooner than I expected, I was back home in the central Florida sauna. Typical me, I left nearly a third of my luggage with the other family. Then only three days later, I was off again with my own family heading northeast to visit our clutches of close friends and family, placed in various states along the east coast. We traveled back and forth between South Carolina, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, until a month later we were finally home again.

And that concludes, in a nutshell, what I've done this summer to this day. Other notes: I gave up reading Undaunted Courage (I promised myself I would just do it for the sake of feeling accomplished, but that wasn't enough to make me go through with it). Too many footnotes. So instead I picked up a classic my aunt gave to me: East of Eden. And I am finding that much more interesting.

And 'till I post again, have a great summer! (Or winter, if anyone in the southern hemisphere is reading this).

~sleepinl8

Trying to catch up after a long blogging withdrawal

Good Lord, it has been a while now, hasn't it? SO sorry for not posting - I was unbelievably busy trying to cram for exams, especially knowing that I actually had to take them much earlier than the other students (I had to do them early because I would be missing them to go to Mackinac Island, Michigan with my best friend - unfortunately for the exams, their presence will not be missed). But I won't bore you with all the details of that - now that I'm back into the posting routine I've got so much to say! It's really overwhelming, but to get this over with I'll start at square one...

So, I hadn't made any plans for my birthday yet this year, even though it was exactly 4 months ago yesterday. I had debated with myself on whether to round up lots of people to do something casual and unstructured, or take a few friends for a weekend at the beach. Little did I know that behind my back my best friend (the same one I will be going to Mackinac Island with - we'll call her "M") and my mother were scheming... for a weekend later she invited me to her house just to "hang out". When I arrive there's food set out on the counter and a funky tablecloth dressing the table, and I'm just starting to get the slightest idea of what might be going on when... SURPRISE!!!!!!!!! Seven of my very good friends - A1, A2, A3, C, E, R, and T - pop out from behind the couch, table and kitchen counters (one knocks over a 2-liter soda bottle in the process) with their arms held high and wide, and big, goofy grins  spread across their faces. Maybe a cliche thing to do, but nonetheless, it was undoubtedly the best birthday I've ever had. Being silly, I pretended to cry with happiness, but inside I think I really was. And the whole thing was out of the kindness of M's heart. I really was not expecting that. That party was the best gift that could ever have been given to me. So I did my doofus-like things, being the ultimate dancing (if that's even what you call the movements I was making) super-freak. I think all the smiling I did that day gave me the laugh-lines (crow's feet, if you'd prefer to be cynical) and parentheses of a 60-year-old (not intending to offend anyone out there reading this who is close to 60+ years of age!).

Oh, hmm... what else? Can't think of anything but I know something happened... well I guess I didn't have as much to say as I thought I did (lucky for all you readers!) but I suppose I'll briefly summarize my last day of school, which was, in fact, today. Without the trip I would be at school until my last day on June 2nd, but due to the vacation I'll be missing everything past today. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about this, because I've always liked the atmosphere that surrounds the school on our final day before summer break - constant hugs and goodbyes and "call me"s. But I hardly had to think about it - it wasn't a big deal. Plus, if I was going to have my last day before everyone else, think about all the exclusive attention I'd get! I know that sounds haughty, but I know there are countless others in this world that love to be the center of attention as well! Anyway, it was a good last day - plenty of yearbook signatures and phone numbers and hugs goodbye. I think I would have given a few more hugs if I wasn't sick as a dog right now.

Anyhoo, I'm all packed and ready to leave for Mackinac Island! No cars, no crime, perfect weather, gorgeous scenery... couldn't get any better. Oh, one thing that maybe probably will come as a shock to you is that we're driving - from central Florida to northern Michigan - the whole way, in an RV. Thank the Lord - we'll have WiFi. 'Till next time folks!

~sleepinl8