Friendly Traditions

In my creative writing class today, we were asked to write a poem about any gift we had ever given or received. This is what I came up with:

Friendly Traditions

A small stack of letters
sits next to my bed,
evidence of a tradition
long between friends.
Every year a new one
is added to the pile,
filled with words of our friendship
that always make me smil.
Always written in the long
weeks before summer
they make the last weeks of school
seem less of a bummer.
While others are signing
yearbooks galore,
my friend and I exchange
words that mean so much more.
And during those moments
when I feel all alonge,
I read all our letters
to feel like I'm home.

Miss M. gave us a challenge to write it in the rhythm of T'was the Night Before Christmas and to make it rhyme. So I know that it's not my strongest work, but I really enjoyed writing it.

Casual Acquaintance

I met you years ago.
We were only classmates,
but I always wanted to
be your friend.

Your intelligence awed me.
I wished I could have
your creativity, your
talented mind.

I remember the day
we talked for what
seemed like hours and
I realized that we could
become great friends.

I never took the chance,
made the effort to change
our casual acquaintance
into anything more.

I thought we were
too different.

I was wrong.

Now it's too late.

If I could, I would
turn back time. A
year and a day, to when
I last saw you.

I would take the
chance, then, to show
you what I had known,
to tell you that I
looked up to you.

Everyone wants one
last day to say goodbye.



In memory of Rachel Vigil
December 1992 - December 2009

Letters

Departed friend,

You left me here,

confused and disoriented.

I’m not sure how this

all occurred. One moment

you were here, I was in

your arms, the next I

was standing by your

grave, as I am now.

There is no rewinding

this life, no way for me

to hear your voice or

feel your strong arms around

me even one more time.

I don’t know how to say

goodbye. The void that

has opened, wide between

us is one I do not know

how to cross over. It is not

yet my time to speak to

you again. For now, read

this letter, left on your

grave, and know that I

will always remember.

Love forever,

Elizabeth

 

Dearest Elizabeth,

If there were a way

to ensure that this letter

made its way into your

delicate hands, I would

find it. I want to have

the power to reassure you.

You are not the only one

disoriented, confused.

I want for nothing

more than to be near you,

to hear your laughter, not

from a distance, but right

next to my ear, a result

of time spent together.

I am with you always,

though you come to my

grave, hoping to speak to

me again. I always hear

your words, spoken out of

mourning and despair.

I’m sorry.

Always with you,

Alexander

These two poems were written for my creative writing class. The assignment was to write two letter poems. The inspiration came from the two main characters in my novel. They do kind of give away a big part of the end of the novel, but I still really liked how they turned out.

Ecstatic Dilemma

Last week I had an interview for Sterling Scholar. My interview went really well, but I was competing for the English category with two of the smartest girls I have ever met. I had no idea which of us would win in the end.

I met these two girls in junior high and we have been involved in many of the same things since then. We have all had split interests between English and Science as well as other things. We have all been really good friends. There are not two other people in all of Davis School District who I would rather compete against. I was prepared to lose and I was prepared to be happy about it. No matter who won, I would have been happy for them. They would have deserved it.

We have been anxiously awaiting the results since our interviews. Today, while I was heading to my car so that I could go to Mr. T's class at Fairfield for my internship, the announcements came on and I was informed that the list of Sterling Scholars would be posted at lunch. Luckily, Mr. T kept me super busy during the three hours I was at my internship and the time passed without me being able to freak out too much. When I got back to the school, I found myself practically racing into the building.

I wanted to check the list at the same time as Carley, who was competing for the Visual Art category. So I called her and told her to wait for me. We met at the stairs and walked up to where the list was. I couldn't even concentrate on what the list said because I was so excited, but when I finally focused enough to see what name was under the English category I saw that it was mine. I don't think I could breath just then. Then I saw that Carley had also been chosen for Visual Arts. I don't think there is any cooler thing than sharing such an accomplishment with your twin sister.

However, soon after I noticed Carley and I were going to be competing at region, I also noticed that Nicole had been chosen for Science and that, of the three of us pictured above, Hillary was the one who would not be moving on. She was also the only one who was not able to see the list for herself. She was at her internship in Salt Lake and wanted Nicole and I to let her know the results.

Herein was our dilemma. How were Nicole and I supposed to inform Hillary that, not only had her two friends been chosen for both categories she had competed in, but she had not? How were we supposed to be happy about this amazing accomplishment when our close friend was not able to share it with us? Was the right choice to just come out and tell her or let her find out on her own?

In the end we decided that, since she had asked both Nicole and I to inform her of the results, we had no other choice but to tell her. I tried calling her, hoping that an actual conversation would soften the blow a little, but I recieved no answer. After discussing it for a moment, Nicole and I decided that it would be best if both of us sent her a seperate text informing her of the results for our category.

I still don't know how Hillary will take this. I am currently sitting in my Newspaper class, hoping that she will not find our way of telling her too... I don't even know what the right word for this is. I'm torn between showing just how excited I am and feeling bad that Hillary does not get to compete for Region. I don't really know if there is a right answer or solution to this problem.

In the meantime, congratulations to everyone else who was chosen for Sterling Scholar! I know that we have all worked hard since starting high school to come to this point. There is a lot of work ahead of us, but each of us deserves what we were chosen for and I know that Layton High is going to be very well represented this year!

Overwhelmed

I say that I know certain things shouldn't matter anymore, that I don't care. But sometimes I just get overwhelmed by everything and I wish I had some of the more insignificant comforts to fall back on. Today is one of those days. I just wish there was someone that I could really tell everything. I don't think such a person truly exists, though.

This is a not-so-great poem I wrote today. I thought I would share.

You ask what is wrong and I

want to answer, freely, openly.

The answer, though, is too long,

too real to tell. I know that

you will not really care to hear it.

You do not really want to know

that I feel I am not good enough.

You have no desire to listen to

me say that I feel that there is

no one who really understands.

It is too cliché, too much of an

excuse for me to really feel.

Still, I want to tell you

everything.

Instead I keep my worries, my

insecurities to myself. They build

and build until I can no longer

stand them. I break down, unable

to resist any longer, but there is

still no one to listen.

Fragile Earth

The breeze blows, cool

against the fragile canvas of

the earth, writing crimson 

memoirs in the blue sky.

Fragile wings break

through, a barrier to the

ever wandering 

thoughts in the air.

Since the painful and

expectant sunrise, the earth

became chaotic. You stand,

observing intelligent trees,

rooted in their peaceful

ground, content with the

casual loneliness of their

existence as their leaves

drift to the ground

upon attentive wings.

Assurance.

So, I know that National Novel Writing Month has started and so instead of writing this blog I should be writing my novel... Or you know... Sleeping. However, I was just having some thoughts that I really wanted to preserve. I thought there was no better place than here to do that.

Any person my age has a lot of big things going on right now. College applications are beginning to become number one priority, we're beginning to realize how difficult it will be to afford living the lives we are hoping to live and how impossible it is to afford the lives we dream to be living. We have heard so many times in the past that senior year is a time to have fun, but none of us have time for fun at the moment. How can a person have fun when there are so many life altering decisions being made right now?

With all of these big thing going on, I wouldn't be surprised if we're all feeling a little bit like we're falling behind. Maybe we don't feel like we're doing the best we can or that we are screwing up. I can tell you from personal experience that assurance otherwise can mean a lot to people of my age right now. This is an independence that many of us have not experienced before and we are all worried that we are going to screw up. In fact, we most definitely will screw up somehow. Some of us have already screwed up. Either way, it's nice to hear that we're doing a little bit better than we think we are.

Tonight the person whose opinion matters most to me when it comes to how well I am doing with my life reassured me that I am doing pretty well. I was shocked, to say the least. I feel like a chicken running around with its head chopped off (or is that a turkey? I can't remember.) I have no idea how to get everything that I need done and still be sane. I am so worried that I am going to make a mistake that will cost me for the rest of my life. I'm worried that I'm going to miss something crucial. I'm worried that I'm disappointing my friends and my family with how I prefer to spend my downtime by myself more and more often.

It's not that I don't love the people in my life, I do, so much. I just really value the time I have to just relax and not stress about everything right now. It feels so hypocritical to how I feel about the ever increasing number of things that I miss at home and with my friends, but I've come to the point where missing these things doesn't upset as much as it did. I feel like I am not getting anything done and that I am not doing things very well. Sometimes I just want to break down and cry. To hear that my mom thinks that I am doing very well is a very good thing. It really helps me to hear that.

I just thought that I would share that. Life my be overwhelming and I may feel that I am not succeeding with all that I am supposed to be doing in my life to this point, but I have people who believe in me and who believe that I am doing well. I don't think they will ever understand just how much that means to me.

NaNoWriMo, Centurion and College!

So I haven't written in about a month. Whoops. It's not that there has been a lot going on. I've been working and going to school. Of course, the last week has been crazy because of the end of the term, but other than that I have just been going about my normal schedule.

There are some really awesome things coming up in the next month, though. Some of them require a lot of attention and are going to be really stressful and others are merely for fun. Either way, November is going to be an incredibly busy month for me.

First of all, my college applications are all due by the first and my Sterling Scholar application is due this week. Soon I'll have to make all of these big decisions that may affect me for the rest of my life. I took the ACT yesterday. I'll probably get my scores in November as well. Senior year has been crazy, so far. Everything is happening so fast and I have no idea where all this time is going.

The second thing is that it is once again time for NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month. The month every year when I delude myself into thinking that this year I will have the time and the creative ability to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. This year I'm going about the adventure differently. I've started planning my novel for once. I have some characters and a little bit of a plot. I am fully aware that with the time constraint, half of what I write will probably be crap. I understand that if I become too worried about the story being crap, there is no way that I will ever finish.

I have also found a friend who I will be talking with and encouraging throughout the month as he encourages me and we both kick each others' butts until we hit that 50,000 word mark. I was on the NaNoWriMo forums, looking for local people to do writeins, where everyone gets together somewhere and writes for several hours, and I found Friff14. He told me to send him an email and we could start planning something. I emailed him after looking at his profile and discovering that he was a year older than me. Then, when he told me his name in his response I realized that I very likely knew this guy. I asked him if he went to Layton High and once he said that he did we realized that we did, in fact, know each other.

The awesome thing about having someone who I know and who lives nearby participating as well is that I will have just a little bit more reason to keep writing. It will give me an extra boost that I definitely need in order to finish this thing after two years of trying and failing. My life isn't so dramatic as it has been in the past... However, my car freaked out at me as I was driving to work yesterday and is currently sitting in the Boondocks parking lot because there is no one here who can fix it until later today.

The last excited thing going on this month is the unveiling of the school newspaper website that I have been working on since Spring. It is located here. I can't wait to see what people think about it. I'm hoping that more people will read and care about it than they do our print paper. I really would like to have a successful newspaper for once.

That's all for now. I'm going to go work on my plot some more and enjoy the peace and quiet of the house prior to everyone being up and about.

Always Changing

Not quite three years ago I went on a trip to Washington DC for the National Science Olympiad competition. By the time I got home, not only was I absolutely sure that I wanted to go to George Washington University, I was pretty positive that I would be going there. At the time I was 15. I was the farthest from home I had ever been without my parents and I was high on life. Everything was just perfect. I had been... not at my best for a while before the trip and the sudden feeling of success made the whole trip one that I will never forget. Back then I was convinced about many things that I no longer think are true.

It hasn't even been three years. Yet, I am a completely different person from that girl who came home from DC with a silver medal and a dream to be a college student at a large university in probably one of the busiest places in the country. Back then I kept myself in the small cage that had been created by my experiences the two years prior. I only allowed myself to get so far from where I knew I already succeeded and I was so convinced that I was on the track I wanted to be on. What a way to be, right?

Something happened that summer. I don't know what it is, except that the basic idea is that I grew up. By the time school started I was already beginning to cling to the walls of that cage a little bit. I disliked my Chemistry class and my math class was boring. It was odd, but Newspaper was becoming my favorite part of my schedule. I had always been good at English, but never before had it been the subject I looked forward to more than anything else (Mrs. Money's Algebra 2 class was tied with Mr. T's English class in 9th grade, I was a nerd, I know.) Wheels began turning in my mind and the one thing I had always thought that I would never want to do, was something I was beginning to think may be pretty cool.

That was just the beginning. I went through a phase where I was absolutely certain I wanted to go to SUU and major in Journalism. Journalism faded slowly to the possibility of English and eventually USU came into the mix as well. Then I took AP Psychology and was enchanted by the workings of the human mind. I realized that not only was it something that intrigued me, but it was something I was good at. Since I had realized that I didn't really understand math and science, I had struggled to find that. To me, my ability to write essays does not really amount to a real world skill. Understanding people, now that is something that could get me into a good career. I spent some time being certain that I wanted to go into Psychology.

Now, two years later, I have changed even more. It is the critical period in my high school career and I am split in so many directions. My internship with Mr. T is enlightening in that I think I really could be successful at teaching. I could like it, too. On top of all that, Westminster has been added to the list of colleges that I am considering. It is expensive, I know, but it is a good college and is located close enough to home that I could keep my job and not have to pay living costs. It's made my choosing a college that much more difficult. The thing is, I'm not that worried about it. I will end up at a college where I feel I will be successful. Eventually I will choose the major that I think I will enjoy most.

For now, my biggest concern is the application process. I have to make sure that I can get into the colleges that I want to apply to and I need to start applying for scholarships. I also need to make sure that I take the time to enjoy and appreciate the opportunities I am being given as a senior. I learned my lesson in 9th grade when I spent so much time worrying about things that proved to be so insignificant. I forgot to enjoy what I had then and there. I don't regret it because I learned something from it.

Anyway, this rant actually did come from somewhere. Tomorrow is my high school's college day. The seniors get to skip two class periods to go see presentations from three different colleges. I'm glad that my top three college choices will all be there. I don't know how much help it will be, but I plan to see what they have to say and hopefully be able to make some decisions from there. Then on Saturday I will be going down to Westminster to their senior open house. There's a lot of big things going on right now. It's absolutely crazy that we're already at midterm. This school year is going by so much faster than I had expected it to.

The Return

It was odd to be back here. Stepping off of the train and looking around the station he remembered the day he left. He could see the bench - which was actually no longer there - where he had left his luggage by accident all those years ago. He imagined the air, heavy with moisture from the rain, that contrasted so much with the warm, bright light that floated in from the windows now.

A decade had passed since he left this place. In that time he had traveled the world. He had been through many jobs before finally discovering one he could settle at. He had met new people and made new friends. He had forgotten and he had forgiven as was his intention when he boarded the train that took him away.

Maybe forgotten wasn't the right word. As he stood, looking around, noting the foreign familiarity of the room, he knew he did not forget. He moved on. He had found a new way to live, but his past hadn't left him. He knew that now.

The sudden appearance of her soft face and dark hair (which was shorter now, he thought) was shocking an expected all at the same time. She had not forgotten either. The look in her eyes as their gazes met proved that to him.

He was shocked by how different she looked. It was as if her sophistication and obvious maturity made her taller, somehow. It made him wonder if they could fix things now. They had both grown up... But that was the point, wasn't it?

As her train arrived and she climbed aboard, giving him one last, familiar smile, he knew that this was their destiny. They had influenced each others' lives as much as they were ever meant to.

He looked forward to the street as he left the station, feeling a kind of relief he hadn't felt in ten years.

The Other Side of the story

Why can't I move? Why can't I force myself from this spot? What is the point of standing here, staring at this train? It's not even the same train that he left on, and yet, I can't leave. I feel like maybe if I stand here long enough he will come back.

We all made our mistakes, but, though I know mine were the worst, shouldn't he be able to forgive me as well? I forgave him I forgot about all the lies, all the hurtful things he said. Why have I not been forgiven? He left me here all by myself without a single clue to where he was going.

A train. Tht's all I knew. He had taken his things and boarded a train. We weren't speaking to each other, I know, but he left. I never expected him to leave. I guess I should have tried to talk to him. Instead of months of silence there could have been words. I know that now. We could have fixed this. He didn't have to leave.

I have been a stone for so long. Maybe that is why he left. I had no remorse. I showed no sorrow for the events that tore us apart. I was cold and distant toward everyone. That didn't do any good. He left on a train and now I am here watching other trains go by. Trying to hold myself together. Trying to prevent the breakdown I know is just under the surface.

I didn't realize before, but without him I am completely alone.

The Platform

     "The world moved on."*
     The words came from a book he remembered reading long ago. Back then, he had thought it sounded cool but put no further thought to it than that.
     Now the words came to him from some dark and unused corner of his mind as he stood on the edge of the platform. His world had certainly moved on. Gone were the days of camaraderie and laughter. Somewhere between all of the words he had said and those he had always wanted, but never could actually say his world, and the separate worlds of all those around him, had moved on.
     He supposed that it must be time to move on as well. Forgive and forget was the phrase that came to his mind. Looking back, he knew that his past would always be a part of him, but maybe, just this once, he could move on without bringing the bitterness with him.
     Sounds of the approaching train reached his ears as he took a deep breath. It really was time to move on, he though, no denying it now.
     When the train came to a stop the man moved toward it, ready to board. He sat watching the platform as the train began to move. He never realized that he had left his luggage behind.


*Credit for this phrase actually goes to The Gunslinger by Stephen King.

Letter to a Season

Dear Summer,
     Though I am sad to see you go, I must admit that I am glad for the return of Fall. I am not saying that Fall is better than you.Don't feel betrayed. I will wait longingly for you once again come winter.
     There is just something about the cool air and the morning light that is better in Fall. I know, I never see your morning light, but you see, Fall gives me reason to.
     Fall colors also make me happy. The turning of the leaves from green to red is a sight quite unlike any other. Your colors are the blue of refreshing waters and the beige of sandy beaches. Don't be upset, I lovey our colors, too. I will be glad to return to them eventually.
     Summer, my time with you has been wonderful. I would not trade being forced awake by the late morning sunshine for anything. I love the warm nights spent in the backyard barbecuing as much as any person.
     I'm sorry, though. It's time for a change. I need to move on with my life and I think Fall is the most reasonable way to do so.

Regretfully,

Madi

Water Bottle

It is the first week of a new school year and, though it may no longer be summer to us, the temperature tries to tell us otherwise. It does not help that we are all stuck in classrooms where the air is not fresh and hallways filled with our classmates.

In this setting, my water bottle is my ally. The hot classrooms and crowded hallways leave me parched without it. Just the crack of the seal breaking as I open it leaves me feeling a little cooler and at moments when, without it, I would be fighting the desire to run out of class to the nearest drinking fountain, it saves me from the torture.

Without my water bottle I would not be nearly as successful in my classes. The heat and my thirst would leave me constantly distracted. My work would become jumbled and incoherrent and I would be nothing more than a new senior, deserate to return to the ever fading days of summer.

My water bottle allows me to make the transition between summer and school with the least amount of pain possible.

Name

My first name, Catherine, seems to be a sophisticated name.Right away, Queen Catherine comes to mind. That is not me, though. I am not royalty and I am far from queenly sophistication. Madi fits me much better. It is a nickname taken from Madison, a name once more associated with men and I think even that fits me. I have been a tom boy my whole life.
I used to be Madie. You wouldn't think that an 'e' would make much of a difference, but it did to me. Changing Madie to Madi gave me power over myself, even though Madi is not a powerful name. It is simple and logical, like myself. Madi is much more fitting than Catherine or Madison, but I have been called by other names that have also fit me well. To my mom I am sometimes Mac and to my youngest sisters I am often Kat. These names fit me when I am a daughter or an older sister, but when I am a friend or a student or when I am just me, Madi works just fine.

Coming Full Circle

About a week and a half from now I will be starting an internship with the very teacher who first had me start this blog three years ago. I am so excited for this experience not only because I will love being back in his classroom on a regular basis and I will love learning from him once again, but because I hope that it really gives me some insight into whether or not I really want to pursue becoming an English teacher.

In my life I have dreamed of becoming many things. The first that I can remember is a firefighter. After that  aerospace engineer, geologist, English teacher, journalist, and clinical psychologist all come to mind. That list (minus the firefighter) is just from junior high to the present and only includes the ones that I seriously considered as something I might like. There have been times when other, less realistic, ideas have come to mind. For example, I have always wanted to be a novelist. I have sometimes thought that being a foreign correspondent would be amazing. However, I don't believe that I could truly be successful at either one of those careers.

Last year I discovered that I have a true passion for Psychology. I also happened to hate my English class last year. Even though I was successful in AP Language, I did not like what I was learning (or lack thereof) and I found that I would much rather be in my AP Psychology class. This year I have a teacher (for AP Literature and Creative Writing) that I am sure that I will love. However, there are no more psychology related classes at my school for me to take. I don't know if it will be possible for me to get a side by side comparison of my two favorite subjects while in high school.

So the purpose of my internship with Mr. T is to see if being an English teacher is a career that I want to seriously consider. The other career option that I have in my mind is a clinical psychologist. I would really love the classes required to become either, I think. The real question lies in which work would satisfy me most or make me the happiest. I am going to see if I can get another internship next semester with a clinical psychologist and maybe narrow my career (or at least college course) a little bit. I don't know how successful this will be (for all I know, I will decide that I would not be successful in either career) but I think that it is going to be well worth my time.

Even if I decide that I don't want to be an English teacher, I am sure that my experience as Mr. T's intern will be a great one for me. No matter what I end up doing in college or in my life, English will always be a passion of mine. It has been since I was in elementary school.

I can't wait to begin my internship. I can't wait to be back in the halls of Fairfield on a regular basis (I know, I'm a nerd.) I can't wait to see where this takes me, how working with Mr. T will, once again, change the course of my plans and dreams. I think it is going to awesome.

The Ups and Downs of Growing Up

Since I wrote last, nearly 3 weeks ago, a lot has happened in my life. I am working 2 jobs, I have finally managed to get my van (temporarily) registered, and I have done a lot of thinking. The last one is not really that unusual. I do a lot of thinking on a daily basis. The subject matter isn't really that unusual either.

Change.

It's a topic that have written about so many times on this blog. It makes sense. I started this blog when I was 14, almost 15. That is a major time for change in any person's life. Now, I'm almost 18. The change that has occurred in my life in the last 3 years is unbelievable in some ways. I don't think I could have ever imagined it when I was 14. I probably could not have even imagined the things that would happen before the end of that year.

Now I am being faced with so many HUGE changes. Some of them are proving to be really, really good. I love the feeling I get from making my own money and paying for my own car. The feeling that I can do these things myself, that I have reached that level of independence is amazing. It's a feeling that I was able to feel very briefly last year before I totaled my car, though I don't believe that feeling was as strong as the feeling I have now. I've had to work hard to get to where I am now. I have gained a knowledge of the real world and of real life that I didn't have last summer.

I love that I can tell the difference between how grown up I thought I was last year and how I am growing up now. It's like comparing the feeling had in elementary school when you finally reached 6th grade and the feeling my friends and I discuss now as we realize that, holy cow, we're graduating this year. How did that happen? How did I reach this point?

Sometimes I still feel like a 6th grader. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by it all and am left feeling small and not quite ready for all of this. It's like the feeling I had when I walked into Fairfield for the first time. I had said over and over again that I was not at all afraid of moving on to junior high, but at that moment, as I looked around the commons for the first time, I felt small and overwhelmed. I suddenly worried that I would never fit in, that I would get bad grades and that I wouldn't be able to handle it all. My confidence came back before that night was over, but periodically throughout 7th grade it returned.

I think that is just how I adjust to big changes in my life. Moving on to high school was not as bad because by then I knew myself more and was incredibly confident that my friends and I would survive our sophomore year. I was luckier in junior high than I was in elementary school. It gave me a sense of control over my life that made the transition into high school a breeze. I realized that it really wasn't that big of a move.

The changes that are happening and will happen in the next year, however, feel very big to me. I find that I am back to feeling small and overwhelmed sometimes. I worry that, with all of these big things going on, I'm going to miss something big and I'll find myself struggling to find a new path to go down. I find myself worrying that I am going to get lost again, like I did last summer. Those are the moments when I find myself thinking about the more difficult parts of my new-found independence.

There are moments when I realize that there is some part of all of these changes that I don't like so much. That happened to me before I started writing this blog. Lately, because of the work I have been doing to earn money for my van, I have had to miss out on time with my sisters and my mom. Today they all went to Salt Lake to help my mom with her work while I was working at Boondocks. I know that this doesn't sound very exciting, but I miss doing things and going places with them. When everyone else was done with dinner I found myself sitting at the table, holding my glass of milk and thinking 'This is going to happen more and more often from now on.' It's the part of growing up that I think I am going to like the least.

I guess I never realized in the past when I was so anxious to get to this point in my life that independence meant doing more things on my own and doing less things with my family. It kind of seems like a 'duh', huh?

My cousin, Jack, who I have been babysitting 4 days a week loves pirates, especially Captain Hook. My first week watching him I watched Peter Pan at least twice. I guess there are some parts of living in Neverland that I wouldn't mind. I mean, the Lost Boys spend all of their time together. I think my sisters and I should become the Lost Girls. I don't think that they would agree with me that we should hang out together constantly. I just miss them, I guess.

Now, just because I put the bad parts of growing up at the end of this blog does not mean that I am not happy with my life right now. In fact, I am happier with my life as it is at this moment than I have been in the past year. I love that I am working and that I am going to have money. I absolutely love that I can get to and from work and basically anywhere else I have to go without having to ask someone for a ride. I love that this is my last year of high school and I am excited for all of the college preparation I get to do this year.

Life is good. It really is, but I wouldn't mind escaping to Neverland for just a little while.

Music is LIFE

While browsing the internet last night, I somehow came across Avril Lavigne website. I don't really remember how I came to it, just that I did. Avril Lavigne was a singer that I absolutely loved when I was in elementary school and junior high. I remember when her album, Under My Skin, came out, I was so excited. Sometime during those years Avril got married and faded from the music scene. Like most people I knew, I slowly stopped listening to her music and hoping for a new song. Then, in March, I went to see Alice in Wonderland and realized that the song at the beginning of the credits had a very distinct Avril sound to it. I downloaded it and found that I really liked the song. Since then, I have found myself hoping that she will put out a new album. However, I don't really think this is going to happen.

Anyway, last night I found myself watching music videos on her webpage. Then I found myself downloading all of her old songs that I used to love. I now have over 20 Avril Lavigne songs in my iTunes that I probably won't be listening to all that often. It's good music to have, though, when I'm in the mood for it. I think it was that thought that then led me over to Taylor Swift's webpage. In general I have not really been a Taylor Swift fan. There was one summer two or three years ago when all of my sisters and I listened to Taylor Swift constantly, but, compared to years and years of 'rocking out' to Avril Lavigne, one summer of obsession of Taylor does not really make me a fan. Yet, last night I downloaded 30 Taylor Swift songs that will probably not have many play counts on them when I get around to updating my iPod again. 

Then, this morning, I opened my iTunes to listen to some music while I was waiting for my cousin, Jack, to get here for the day for me to babysit him. I turned on some Imogen Heap. Weird, huh? I haven't really been into Imogen Heap in years. My older sister, Wendy, introduced me to her a long time ago, but I was never really hooked on her. Imogen Heap songs are weird and cool. They always make me think of things that happened in junior high, though, that I really don't care to think about. So it was weird that I actually found myself wanting to listen to her music this morning.

All of this got me thinking about how music can make you feel. I think music manipulates emotions in a way that nothing else in the world really can. Not only does a song hold its own emotions that, if really good, can find their own way into a listener, but people put their own emotions into the music that they listen to. I don't often listen to Imogen Heap, not because I don't like the emotion or the music itself, but because I don't like what I have come to associate it with. I associate my own experiences and emotions with all of the music that I listen to. Switchfoot makes me think of when I was a seventh grader, fresh into junior high. I like listening to that music sometimes because I like the emotions that I have come to associate it with. Though I doubt many other people feel the same way as I do when they listen to Learning to Breathe.

Avril Lavigne and Taylor Swift have come to be associated with times spent with my sisters. Here are two artists that all of us have really liked and we have liked them at the same time. That doesn't happen very often anymore (mostly because I can't stand a lot of the music that the others listen to.) These songs have very good feelings and memories attached to them. It doesn't matter that Skater Boy is not really supposed to be a silly song. It still reminds me of the day that my sisters and I took a radio outside and tried to create a dance on roller skates to it. Picture to Burn is supposed to be a song filled with anger, but that doesn't stop me from feeling exhilarated and completely content when I hear it. The song reminds me of tubing at Pineview with two of my little sisters, screaming at the top of our lungs.

The emotions attached to the songs are the reasons that I have come to download them again. I like that when I listen to them I can be transported back in time. If I close my eyes I can be the ten year old girl skating around her front yard, singing Skater boy as loud as she can. By listening to Switchfoot I can feel the excitement of a time when every experience was new. 

Music, to me, is my life, literally. There are songs from all parts of my life that have all kinds of memories and emotions associated with them. It's what happens when you listen to music as much as I do. I wouldn't change that, though. I love that weird, almost deja vu, feeling that comes with listening to a song that you haven't listened to in a while. 

I guess that is just why I love music.