life is beautiful, but it's complicated...

Well, just like I said, spring came and life sped right up. Four days until spring break, then four weeks until APs, then a month to kill until Graduation. Then summer. Then (augh!) college. College. Have you ever repeated a word over and over to yourself until it's lost all meaning? I have spent two years anticipating, planning for, panicking over, and dreaming about college. In exactly five months, I will be in college. It's entirely outside the realm of my comprehension. I'm about to take out loans. Loans are scary, scary stuff when you're 17. And I can't even tell you how much I will miss my friends and family.

The other day, I was swinging in the park by my house, laughing with Mel, enjoying the sun, a half-drained milkshake at my feet. I was wondering how life could possibly get any better. But I think the moment I walk out of my small, ugly and smelly high school knowing that I never, ever have to come back, life is going to be really good. When I walk across the stage and grab my Diploma, that's going to be nice, too. Walking into my empty dormroom with a boxload of stuff and nothing else, I think I'll actually like that.

I don't like to think about saying goodbye. But this year I've learned a thing or two about flexibility. Everything will change, that's for sure. But if we can all encompass the change instead of fight it, and deal with weekend trips and bussing and seven time zone' difference, it can still be good. And I will have to go get my own life- but that's how it's supposed to be. Besides, it's the glorious 21 century. I can sit at breakfast with my webcam, and see and hear and talk with one friend 45 minutes away, and another friend an ocean and a continent away. It'll be hard, but we're tough, and we know it's worth it.

I'm ready.

Yes, again.

OK. The AP frenzy has begun. Papers and notes and tests and review projects galore. School is about to completely consume my life. Fortunately, after one year of AP agony, I have developed coping skills. They are basketball, swinging, Grey's Anatomy, and chocolate. These four things can improve the most horendous mood. Swinging especially, as obseved today. Grumbly to giggly in 60 seconds.

Oh, recent development; I have a new major. Yes, again. Everyone always, without fail, says "Oh, again?" So I waffled between film and theatre for awhile. I wanted to direct for four whole years, that should count for something. Besides, this is it.

Public Relations. It's everything I've ever dreamed of. It's mostly writing (newspaper articles, TV and radio broadcasts, speeches) and also making up powerpoints and videos, and traveling and meeting people and making speeches and presentations. And it's so versatile- you can work for a political campaign for a while, then run the whole show for a small local business, then lead a PR team for a huge corporation. I can do government, entertainment, healthcare, fashion, technology, non-profit, anything! Yeah, it's a 9-5 office job, but there's speeches and traveling and people everywhere and emergencies to handle and deadlines to meet. And yes, being short and a woman in communications means high heels, all the time, every day. Small price to pay for Dream Job.

As for the change from film, I figured that visual stuff is not so much my thing. And I've talked a lot about how I would be a writer, but I don't wnt to sit quietly at a desk all day, by myself. I have discovered a job that is mostly writing, but is loud and busy and pressured. Everything I liked about directing, the leading and busy and traveling and people and creativity and compitition is in PR. Plus writing. And steady employment and steady pay is a nice bonus.

So I suppose I could change my mind. But that would require finding something better than public relations, and I can't imagine a job like that existing.

busy busy busy

I've been neglecting my blog. I can't believe it's been a week since my last post. But this week was insane. I stayed after every day to get ready for the volleyball tournament. It actually went really well. Depsite the fact that one team bailed out the day before, and one team didn't show up, it went very smoothly. The weather said it was going to be 55 and sunny. Lies. It was 40 and raining and the wind was blowing sideways and everything. It was so much fun. People were slipping in the mud, and everyone was soaked and dirty and freezing. The teacher game was the best; Pauly made me proud. Even though I was wet and cold to the bones, and my umbrella blew inside-out, it was by far the best PIG project ever. To think I could have done a soup kitchen or something. I don't know exactly how much money we raised, I think it was close to $1,000.

On top of the tournament, my English paper is ruling my life. A Bend In The River by V.S. Naipaul the reason for my existence right now. This paper is going to be the hardest thing I've done academically so far, and I am going to nail this one. I want it to be flawless. Tomorrow I write up my outline, and I'm going to run it past my teacher before I even start writing it. I can stand up to Senioritis a little longer.

Oh. I heard from Syraucse. I'll just say that they made a very big mistake, and that when I'm rich and famous Penn State will be getting my money, and all Syracuse will be getting is an overwhelming feeling of regret. I'll spare you from my vicious attack on the massive flaws of the college admissions process. I also got my "financial aid" package from Penn State. I'll avoid my rant on the screwy economics of American universities, too.

Whatever. I have a car, and I stood in the wind and the rain for a couple hours watching volleyball games today, and Friday was officially three months until graduation. I can't help but feel that life is really good right now. Busy, exhausting, and confusing, but very good.

One more thing. You know how every summer I get into a new sport? Two years ago it was rollerblading, last summer it was tennis. This year is basketball. I had no idea it was so much fun. My brother taught me how to dribble without looking at the ball, and pass three different ways, and block and free throw and make a lay-up. I could never do a lay-up; my brother must be an excellent coach. I'm going all out this summer, I'm getting decent sneakers (I rolled my ankle three times yesterday) and shorts and everything. It makes me wish I were taller....

Campbell, My First Love

Wow.

I have a car. My grampa (who I love oh so much) just got a new Subaru, and instead of trading in his old car he gave it to me! Crazy! It is a 2003 Toyota Camry, and I named it Campbell. I think it's the best car in the entire world. I can't believe how much I lucked out. So it's still on the lot, but I'm going to go get it Monday, and by the end of the week I'll have all of the paperwork done, and it will be driveable.

I'll be able to get somewhere at any given time, and I won't have to adjust the seat and the mirrors every single time I get in to drive, and I'll have the radio set to all my stations, and perpendicular parking will be easier because I won't be all messed up from driving a different car for so long. I can finally drive my friends around to make up for all of the chauffering they've done for me. I'll change oil and rotate tires and take such good care of it that it will live for 10 more years. I'll wash it and keep it looking nice, and take it out for ice cream and picnics, and sing to it at sunset on a warm summer night with the windows rolled down. We'll go to football, baseball and soccer games together, and I'll take it to the movies and out dancing. We'll skip school together, and in a couple of summers we'll go on a road trip and see the country up close togeher. We'll share good times and bad times, laughter and tears. We have so many memories to make.

I'll have other cars throughout my lifetime. But nothing will be like Campbell, my first love.

and now for some transcendentalism...

I knew it. Somehow, even when it was 10 degrees and snowy, I knew this wasn't far away. The wind was different, it smelled different and it didn't cut up your hands if you forgot gloves. You could see the road pavement. The birds were singing in the mornings, squirrels were coming out. Even though Rochester doesn't tap trees, I knew the sap had started running.

Then it was 60 and sunny, out of nowhere. I didn't need to bundle up just to let the dog out or get the mail. I haven't worn my winter coat in two days. The reason I haven't blogged lately is because I have been in the glorious outdoors, rollerblading, or just sitting outside to read or do homework. Last night I left my winow open, and when I woke up my room smelled like spring rain and I wasn't even cold. This morning, I did not even wear a hoodie.

I need to live north forever. I need my four seasons a year. Sure, in Florida it's 60 all winter, but you never get to experience this feeling of spring. Summer wouldn't be the same if it lasted 8 months, and fall might be my favorite season of all. I would even miss winter, the snow and gloves and hats, sledding. What would Christmas be without snow? But, I think I would miss this spring feeling the most. The feeling of the world becoming kind again, of life re-starting.

Even though it's supposed to get back into the 30's this weekend, and my even saying this tempts winter to move here permanently, it's ok, because spring is here. Everything we get from now on is just sugar snow, and poor man's fertilizer. The birds are out, and the winter wind is gone. The time of budding trees and lawn-mowing is fast approaching. Skirts and flip flops and lawn chairs and trips to the beach and ice cream and baseball are coming. The first spring of the rest of my life. I love it.

show me what you're made of

What am I made of? Some people are made of test scores and GPAs and the stack of college acceptances on their desks. Some people are made of the money in their banks, the cars in their driveway, their vacation albums. Some people are made of their hair gel, and exercise stations and closet full of clothes. Some people are made of their friends and signifigant others, and their friday nights.

So what am I made of? If you burned my house down, would I still be me? If you picked me up and moved me across the country, would I still be me? What about if you broke my bank, or made me fat, or stole my future? If you took everything from me, who would I be?

It's a hard question, especially for a 17-year-old. But it's a very important question. Especially for a 17-year-old. It's time to decide what to live for. It's time to decide what makes us up as people, who we really are. That is our only responsibility right now.

It's the ninth!

And you know what that means.

Today is the 8th month anniversary of the World Cup. My trip was eight months ago, and I'm still learning things from it. I still carry with me the things I found on that trip.

Before I left for Europe, I thought that being grown-up meant being miserable. I had lived as a grown-up for a year, and that whole time I was miserable. I figured that joy belonged in childhood, and that everything left for me was going to be ugly and hard. I thought that everything I had believed in was stupid and niave, and that it was best to dig deep and stay there. That life was something to just get through.

Today is the celebration of my awakening. Today is the monthly reflection of how I came back into life. I talk about gelato and sunburns and soccer and bus rides and belltowers. And it's ridiculous how I can't stop talking about these things, and how they could be so important to a person. But it's something worth celebrating, and it's something that needs to be talked about and remembered every now and then.

Today I read my journal from the trip. Here are the words of a changing person.

""Right now my life is one big 'andiamo,' one big 'what are you doing sitting on your butt? You've got places to see, people to meet, things to accomplish, a life to start. Let's go.' "

"I have to change things. I have to think differently. I have got to stay me. I hated who I was this year. I can grieve, but I can grieve like Rachel. I can be wildly and unbearably sad, but I won't forget to write every day, I won't become cold and angry, and with time, I will get better. This isn't forever. The stuff that made this trip wonderful, those things are forever. It's still a fight, it's still hard, we can still doubt. But if we choose forever, we get forever."

"These two weeks have been the most intense time of my life. This was a journey of remembering how to live, finding all of the good things I used to be, and learning new things about who I am. I opened myself up to the world again, I laughed and breathed and learned and lost myself like I used to. This trip reminded me of the good things- showed me the good side of growing up. I had forgotten there was good, still. I had forgotten that life isn't always something to just get through. Life is good, and big, and there is enough of it out there for me to live."

" 'So take a shower, shine your shoes. You got no time to lose. You are young men, you must be living.' "

" 'And God's not through with you, in fact he's just getting started.' "

" 'I think that we've got what it takes to get this heart to start beating again.' "

it is the season, turn, turn.

I have mixed feelings about spring. I'm tired of bundling up just to run out and get the paper. I'm tired of salt stains on my jeans, and always having wet socks. I miss driving on clear roads, and just wearing a t-shirt and flip flops out. And spring will be wonderful, when APs are done, and all I have to do is hang out and drive around with my friends. I'm making so many plans for spring, I think it's going to be a lot of fun.

But it feels like that once spring comes, and I start having fun, life is going to move really, really fast. Like winter is coasting up the hill, and then spring and summer is just rocketing back down. For whatever reason, I've built up snow in my head as the barrier between me and change. Because the next time it snows, everything is going to be so different.

I think I'll love it. I think I'll be happy. But there are some things that I really don't want to say goodbye to. Summer will be spent working full-time and buying and packing and organzing and planning. Spring it is as far as my official childhood is concerned. I'm going to go to Niagara Falls, and out for ice cream and bike rides and walks, and playing in the park and lazing in my yard. Going out for ice cream and movies, dancing on the weekends, maybe out to the lake every once in a while. I'll watch movies in my AP classes, and spend study halls reading and writing instead of frantically doing homework. It will be sunny afternoons and sundresses and sunscreen and trampolines.

It will be bittersweet. And while I want spring to come, part of me wants to hold off a little bit. Parts of me don't want things to start moving.

don't worry; be happy

In English we learned about the philosophical theory that life is what we perceive it to be. So I tried it. I decided to be happy that the sun was up when I was getting ready, and that Mel got the Prelude back for today. I decided to be happy that in French I didn't have to present my dialogue. I decided to be happy that I got to play ping pong in gym. I decided to be happy about watching Hotel Rwanda in Government. It may be for the second time in school, but it is such an excellent movie I could watch it a hundred times. I decided to be happy that I had English today (that's always good.) When I came home, I was glad that I had a half an hour to myself, and that it's almost warm, and the sun is still out. I got to read a little and eat some grilled cheese. Now I have to do some psych notes, but those are usually interesting, and I can do them at my kitchen table, in the sun. I have to work tonight, but there's not that much to do, and after this I'm free until Tuesday. I'm glad that I'm still living in my wonderful house, and that my friends haven't moved away yet (be it as far as Romania or Pennsylvania.) I'm healthy, I have nothing real to worry about and tons of things to look foward to.


Sometimes you just need to be in a bad mood. And sometimes you can't help but be in a good mood. But on days like today, when it could be really easy to just be miserable about nothing in general, you have to put in the effort to be happy. Plain old bored is no reason to be grumpy. Save up the misery for when it really counts. So I guess the moral of this story, however strange, is suck it up and be happy.

breakfast is the most important meal of the day

So. All of the fun I did NOT have this week, I had today.

I was going to go to Cheeburger Cheeburger with Mel. It was closed. So we drove out to Bazil's, which was kind of tricky. We had to find our own way with the map, which is pretty hard considering our lack of naviagtion experiance. We left the house a little after one, and I think we finally sat down at a table just before 3. Then we had to order, and wait for food to come, and then we had to eat it. We finished lunch a bit after 4, and would have been home 4:30 no problem, but Mel never told me to get onto the 490. That's important.

We're driving along, and I ask "Are we supposed to go through Greece?"
"Oh, yeah, we're good. Don't worry about it."
Ten minutes later, she says "Uh, Rach, we're going the wrong way. Turn around and get off the Buffalo exit."
Good navigating, Mel.

We finally get into town around 5, and we decided to rent a movie. I think I enjoyed the renting process more than actually watching the movie. Good conversation with guys that weren't afraid of girls. (You think high school seniors have outgrown that. Almost, but no.) Here was some of it:

Me: I'm sooo full. I don't think I'll even eat breakfast tomorrow.
Employee 1: What? You have to eat breakfast.
Employee 2: It's the most important meal of the day.
Employee 1: And the first meal of the day. Is this all?
Me: Yeah
Employee 1: Ok, I need your number. How about both your numbers?
Me and Mel at the exact same time: 574-76482-463-9.
Mel: Catch that?
Employee 2: Hahaha!

Then I had a late fee and was all out of money (lunch was more than I planned.) Mel had to run out to the car to get more. The the car was locked, and she had to come back in get keys, and go back out to the car again. Let me tell you, what a rough 2 minutes. More talk of breakfasts, then a Mary Poppins sing-a-long. Anyways, we finally got our movie and then we watched it. It was bad, but I had never seen a Channing Tatum movie, and apparently life is not worth living without seeing a Channing Tatum movie. I won't say it was a wasted 2 hours. I laughed until I cried at one point.

Tomorrow is a Monday, and I have French-which-I-hate, and Gym-which-I-hate. I still have 50 pages of English to read and take notes on before bed. But today I got lost, ate myself to death on fantastic food, had a good flirt, and laughed until I cried. A little reminiscent of Europe. That's enough fun to get me through a week of crappy days.

Summer Job

I think I know what I want to do for a summer job.

Mrs Dale, get ready to laugh.

Day camp counselor. It's full-time, I get to go places, and be outside all summer, and work with kids. I'm sure it will be exhausting, but it's a lot better than waiting tables or shelving books. Plus, with one year of camping experiance, and then if I get certified in First Aid, CPR, and Lifeguarding, I can work at sleepaway camps. These pay a lot better, and it's a great job to have during college summers.

So, they start early in the morning, but that means I'll have nights and weekends off. 35 hours a week at minimum wage is not bad. Then for coming summers, if I'm certified in everything, I can almost make room and board for a year in one summer. That's really not bad. I'm kind of excited. If anything, it will provide me with tons of stories.

Alright, I need to stop procrastinating. I have 50 pages to read for English, and I'm done for the day.

I'm going now.

I swear.

Really.

Bye.

A Day In The Life

My 50th post! Yay!

I don't have too much to talk about today. In Government I watched a movie on the lost boys from Sudan and decided that I really needed to be happier with my life. Getting up at 6:00 to go to high school is really not the worst thing. I mean, it's really not fun, but I'm not getting eaten alive by lions and crocodiles, either.

So I came home and did some Pilates, and ran up and down my stairs 15 times. That's 180 stairs up, and 180 stairs down. Swimming has addicted me to cardio work and lactic acid. Then I felt kind of weird and I was afraid I was sick. But I slept for an hour and ate dinner and had a milkshake, and now I feel fine. Except that my legs are still kind of burning. I studied for my Euro test for two hours. Now I'm here, writing about absolutely nothing. Because Grey's Anatomy is a repeat (argh) I'm going to read for a little bit, then go to bed obscenely early.

Sometime this weekend, preferably Saturday, I am going to get out of here for a little bit. I'm thinking of going up to the lake and get hamburgers for lunch and walk around a little bit. I know it's winter, but if I don't get out and go somewhere, I will lose my mind. I wanted to go to Niagara Falls, but the parental unit doesn't like that idea so much. Oh well. At this point I'll take what I can get.

Fun story of the day: Mrs Westby got married in a laundromat. I don't think I would actually want to get married in a laundromat, but doesn't that make a great story? If you're at a party, and one person says "I got married on horseback in Aruba," and you say, "Oh, I got married in a laundromat," which story do you think people want to hear?

That was my day. Not exciting, but again, no lions or crocodiles.