Finding a Home

I haven't posted in over a year and a half, and it seems the same goes for my ability to process full thoughts. In the "Drafts" folder I have a dozen or so posts, some only a few sentences long, others full detailed descriptions of life; none have of which have been seen by any of the public. Most of the time my reasoning for closing the tab and deciding against sharing is because I think that whatever is happening in my life is really not that exciting or interesting. On the surface I don't have much to report. I skipped senior year, I have some reoccurring back pain but nothing major. My sister was sick for months and that was hard for my whole family, but now she's OK. We moved, I got a new job, I started college....the usual just living stuff that is normal in day to day living. But that's not really the type of thing I would even write about anyway.

If I did post I would write about my struggles with depression and anxiety through the year, how I found something I'm really passionate about and don't ever want to stop studying, and that in all my lightness and smiles, underneath I just feel heavy. I've written posts about it. But I've trained myself to think no one wants to listen.

This is usually where I would stop and close the tab. I have no idea where this is going, but I am tired of keeping everything inside. So I'm just gonna dive right in here.

I did Running Start my junior year and I was super duper lucky to take a history class(and then a Chicano Studies class) by one of the best educators I have ever had. Though he was a dic...tator(his joke) I learned incredible things and thus started me on the path of studying social justice. With the support of my teachers, friends, and parents, I was able to skip my senior year and jump straight in to freshman year at Western Washington University, as a Fairhaven student. I pushed for this jump for many reasons-that I was ready to be challenged educationally was one reason, but the idea really rooted from a strong need for change in my life.

Last winter I completely lost touch with myself. Nearly every interaction I had with my friends and family took incredible effort, and instead of ever addressing how I felt I suppressed it. This was a mistake, for I found that the longer I kept it inside the bigger the explosion was when I finally let it all out. For almost 3 years I have been in a relationship with a great guy and fell madly in love with him. When I started to feel depressed, I wasn't able to process my thoughts or feelings clearly-I always looked for someone to place the blame on the easiest person to blame was the one who was 200 miles away who couldn't physically be there to support me or see how much I was struggling. It was this situation that led me to feel even worse. I couldn't communicate with him like I needed to, which led me to believe that I had lost touch with my ability to explain myself at all. I often drew self portraits, and most often I was portrayed to have been placed in a box; naked, and stripped of my voice completely. I tried to make it seem like it was his fault I felt this way just so I wouldn't have to take responsibility, but that wasn't the case.

Ultimately it wasn't the distance that tore us apart, but the inability to be compatible once we were finally in the same place again. And honestly, I think I did wear him out with how emotional I always was. Countless times I would begin to cry myself to sleep not knowing why, and then cry harder when I felt that I realized that I was keeping him being able to do things he wanted because he was instead having to comfort me. We broke up over the summer and although it was months ago, I still like to avoid thinking about it in detail. It's hard now to be living in the same time town, wanting something I really can't have. The break up was what is best for both of us; issues with compatibility shouldn't be pushed. It's just hard to lose your best friend.

I kept myself busy over the summer with work, which helped a lot. I didn't have time to think about personal things and the presence of my depression seemed to wane. I don't know at what point I felt like I was coming out of the box. In retrospect, I don't think that I did-maybe just that there were more holes poked in it to give me more air to breathe. I started to make friends, something I hadn't done in years, and it was nice.

I moved to Bellingham last month and began my freshman year of University. I was extremely excited to begin the school year. Education matters to me more than social life. I came to college, not because I wanted to get out of the house and embrace my individuality and new found "freedom" as an adult-this was a part of it. My need to see new things and change my circumstances was a huge part of why I moved. But mostly I came to college because I was incredibly ready for higher education and to learn about things that I am passionate about. So when I start to feel sad, lonely, or any other version of the word "down," I remind myself that I'm doing what makes me happy, and that's what matters. Because that is what matters. Moving day, on September 18th I couldn't have been more excited to start this new chapter. And a week later I was ready again to do the exact same thing.

I tried living in the dorms for something like 8 days and, in as simple a way to say it as possible: It wasn't my cup of tea, and I didn't need to stick it out to know that it wasn't going to get better. I began to stress about money and went over my budget for the year dozens of times, always coming up to the same result: I was going to run out of money, and fast. I moved out of the dorms but had no where to live yet, and even though I was technically out a home I didn't feel lost. After about a week and a half, I met some girls who were looking for a roommate to join them in a cute house just a short 10 minute bus ride from the campus. As of yesterday I unpacked my last box and am happy in my new home. I cleaned the bathroom, I did my laundry, I do dishes and have to go grocery shopping and pay bills-and it's more wonderful than I hoped. My roommates are all each so lovely in different ways and I'm extremely grateful that they have been so welcoming, making sure I know this is my home now-a place for me to feel completely comfortable. I'm not completely OK, but I am getting there. I'm meeting new people and going out of my comfort zone more and more, which has allowed me to realize: It is not weak to let go of the things that made up the invisible box which kept me bound. At the very bottom is my version of a self portrait now. Not in a box...but walking out.

Special thank you to Daniella, Dylan, Olivia, Bre, Miguel and the boys, for making sure I had food, a bed, a space to talk, and plenty of love throughout my week and a half of crazy couch surfing. <3 Thank you.

Giving Up on Missing Out

I have been thinking a lot lately about fear, and how it controls what we do with our lives every day. This is the kind of post I tell myself not to post because it is too vulnerable, and too personal. However this post is about letting go of fear, and that is why I will post it.

My fears are probably similar to a lot of yours. I am afraid that I am not wanted or that I don't fit in. I try to be kind to everyone, and I talk a lot so that people will notice me so that I never feel like I am excluded. However, in doing that I have developed a way of being for myself that is not true to who I am. I am afraid that I am a misfit, I am not a misfit. I am afraid that people don't want me, I am not unwanted. It is my fear that has me acting as if, and because I act as if, I am not living for real.

Everything we do is controlled by our fears.

One of the main things I am afraid of, is people. Like everyone, I am someone who can judge harshly, and judgment stems from fear. I have noticed that most of the time when I am judging someone I create reasons to not like them, and try to justify my judgment. But then I'll take a look at just what it is about them that I am judging, and I don't have anything negative to say about them. I have found that the people I am judging are wonderful, kind, beautiful people, and I am missing out on knowing them. When this happens, I write a letter to the person, and the issue is resolved with a smile and a feeling of relief. But there are some times when I am too afraid to send the letter. Too afraid that they will misunderstand and too afraid that they will blow me off, because I am afraid that if they do that I will become a misfit. 

There is one letter in particular I have written 8 times over and over again, rewording and reworking, trying to make it sound real and kind, but also getting a point across. I am too scared of their possible reaction that I won't send it. So instead I allow myself to be disappointed in myself any time I think about them. I know I need to send this letter, because I won't be able to finally be at peace until I do.

Dorothy Thompson once said, "Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live."  I think this perfectly incapsulates what I want to convey in this post. My fear of being a misfit, and my habits of judgment have led me to miss out on having friendships with people I could easily get a long with. In all honesty, I'm tired of missing out. I am so done with basing all my actions on my fears, and I am ready to live through happiness. I'd encourage you to think of what it is you are afraid of, and how different your life would be if you didn't have those fears, then decide what's stopping you from giving up on them.

Wintertime Boogietime

In honor of the Wintertime Boogietime(it's a thing, people) my family and I have been throwing dance parties every night. We go from swing dance, to (an attempt at) Salsa, to WOPing. It's the 21st century, WOPing is officially a thing(though we all pray this fad will end soon.) With the help of Michael Franti, James Brown, Bastille, Pharrel Williams, Zoot Suit Riot, Prince and so many more, I was able to turn my wintertime funk into a funky funk and Get Up Offa That Thing.  NPR recently put out their Cabin Fever playlist on Spotify, and you can bet your bottom dollar that for the past day I have been listening to it nonstop. It's got me dancing like

and moving like Napoleon. 

It is currently 9 degrees outside, and that's just a bit to cold for my comfort. To keep warm, I've been loading myself up with tea and donuts....okay so the donuts don't REALLY make me warm, but at least they're yummy. 

While I was searching to find these marvelous GIFs to articulate how my aftertnoons have been going when I have the house to myself, I also found this. I know I should have been concerned about a broken neck, but my initial reaction was to laugh...and because I am sick I shot snot through my nose....

So my friends, go find your groove and start dancing. Please, if I know more of you are doing it too I won't feel so silly when I go like this....

and this...

and this...

Dance till you drop. It's Wintertime Boogietime.

My Year in Review

At the beginning of the year, I had no clue what was in store for me. I'm looking back at the resolutions I made on January first, and little did I know how much they would change in just a few days.
At the beginning of January, I attended a course called the Landmark Education Forum in Seattle. It was an empowering weekend that left me feeling unstoppable and ready to live my life, not based on choices I had made in the past, but instead based on all of the possibility of the world residing in my hands. There is really no quick way I can sum up what the Landmark Education is all about, but if there is one thing I will remember when I am old, it will be how this forum lead me to be the person I am today.
This inspired me to live an authentic life, and to embrace every moment with joy and positivity, and to bring happiness to all those I meet.
Since I made those resolutions, I started dancing a whole lot more. Just little twists and wiggles that I let out whenever I felt completely in the moment.
In 2013 I also accomplished many of the bucket list items of things to do before growing old. I learned to drive, went to my first prom,  left the country for the first time, I fell in love, made new friends, shaved my cat, turned 16, and found the square that has my grandpa's name written on it in Pike Place Market.
Over the summer, we had a friend living with us. She had also attended the Landmark forum, and it was over that weekend that we really bonded and became friends. My sister and I became even closer this year. I think the fact that she was graduating and would be starting her freshman year in college really sparked us to get closer. We had a close friend group of about 10 or so people, and we spent our summer bowling, dancing, sleeping on the roof, and daring each other to jump in the lake. We always managed to do something fun; it was really never boring.
I went on a lot of walks this year. We have such a beautiful lake, and amazing mountains to hike. I'm very lucky to live where I do, and I try get out in the scenery as often as I can.
The highlight of my year would have to be my trip to Guatemala. I went with about 15 other kids and 5 chaperons. We split into micro groups and each group had their own job. I was in the group who spent time building fuel efficient stoves for those who had previously had to cook over an open fire. Even though there was a language barrier, I tried my hardest to speak spanish, and everyone was patient with me. I found that smiling and waving worked best to create a connection with someone. Everything in Guatemala was so beautiful and full of color. The market places had such extravagant fruit, and the flowers and trees were so different from those in the states. I can't wait to go back.
2013 was also filled with music! I spent a week in Canada with my family, at a music camp where I learned about music theory, and just had an incredible time. Aside from the bees who wouldn't leave our soda alone, and the painfully long car ride(notice the picture of my sister sleeping so soundly), the trip to canada was a blast.
2013 taught me that you don't have to go looking for happiness, but if you just put a smile on your face and surround yourself with those you love, it'll be there. I tried new things, went out of my comfort zone, and it is because of that that this year was so memorable. I hope you all had a fabulous year.
2014 is full of possibilities, and I can't wait to see the way it will unfold.
Happy New Year!

The Garbage Truck Law.

For about three weeks now I have been experiencing extreme stress. It's the kind of stress that causes late night sobbing, bitchy remarks at school, and weight loss. I've been nicknamed Scrooge by a few of my friends because I refused to get into the holiday spirit. I guess it started when I realized that my piano recital was in a few weeks, and I had nothing prepared. I have been playing piano for many many years, and with the exception of the first few years, I have hated it the whole time. 8 years later, I still hate it and avoid practicing the piano as much as I can. Of course, when you avoid doing something that you are supposed to present to 50 people, once that presentation time comes along and you have nothing prepared, stress begins to build up. And oh boy, did it build up on me.
Not only was my piano lesson coming around, but I had a midterm in my precalculus class coming up, a class that I am not understanding very well. I have pulled myself together and managed to land myself a B, but it was not easy. The midterm was on material that I couldn't understand, and I found myself growing bitter toward the class. On top of that, I had to take a unit test for my AP world history class and write an essay in 30 minutes with a surprise prompt, once again, covering material I was not overly familiar with. Then of course there's my online Spanish 3 class that I am supposed to be done with by mid-January, of which I have completed a little over a third of since September.
All of this stress just adds on to the already unstable me, and as a result I'm losing weight. I've never had a problem with weight gain or weight loss, and never felt self conscious about the way I am shaped. But as I keep losing weight I have told myself, "You're too skinny. You're too skinny, gain weight. Eat more." I decided today to stop listening to the voice in my head. I'm never going to starve myself to lose weight, or over endulge to gain. I will eat when I am hungry, and I have to allow my body to react the way it will. I want to apologize to anyone I have called fat or skinny. You are who you are and that is something that I just understood today.
My sister came home in the middle of this mess, and unfortunately I have dumped it all on to her. It's like the Garbage Truck Law, which I have tried so hard to avoid. I just couldn't help it, and all of the stress and frustration that I have toward every sideways glance in school, every sarcastic comment from a teacher, every missed piano practice, and every misunderstanding with my closest friends that had all piled up to make one emotional wreck who was ready to burst at any moment. I have slowly been dumping it all on to my family and friends and I've realized that it's not fair. It took me weeks to choose not be stressed, but I'm doing it now. This is a season for giving, and cheer, and spreading happiness, and with this constant feeling of stress hanging over me like a cloud, I can not be giving, or happiness, or cheer.
However I am ready to be.
Merry Christmas to you all, and Happy New Year. Make it a powerful one.
xoxo

A Bit of Nothingness

It's like a lucid dream.
But one you can't wake up from.
Your nerves start dancing but your mind finally knows complete tranquility. The music that used to fill your ears flows through your veins so you can feel every beat, note, and strum. Moments that used to race by now are stuck on pause in a state of lethargy, only caring about floating with the breeze, reminding you that just like hot and cold, time is relative. And everything is all laid out, just waiting to be painted. 

Drop the Judgment.

I've kind of always thought of myself as a judgmental person. I noticed that I had thoughts flying around in my head, but I never did anything about it. "He is so annoying." "Even Satan would hate her." "The devil himself." "Snobby." "Awkward." "Tone deaf." "She's weird."
It was about a week ago when I slipped and said one of these things out loud. I got out of it easily because the girl who the comment was directed at is the kindest girl, and doesn't listen to negative comments. It was in that moment when I realized exactly how judgmental I was. My apologies were accepted, but her forgiveness didn't really help get rid of the feeling of shock. I don't articulate myself well with face to face conversations, so I just stayed quiet for the rest of class, only speaking when it was really necessary, and even then not making direct eye contact. I felt terrible. It was that day after school that I went home and  I thought up a list of as many of the negative things I had thought that day and was sickened to find how long the list was. I say these things everyday about people I care about, and even people who I've never spoken to.
Why do I do this? That's not the kind of person I want to be. I don't want to be centered around negativity. It was that day after art class that I decided I was done. I was done disrespecting people. I was done judging people around me and classifying them as, "snobbish", or "controlling." By spending so much energy on disliking people, or going out of my way to find something wrong with someone, I was just making myself unhappy.
As I focus on the good things about people, their creativity, talent, kindness, thoughtfulness, joyful attitudes, and their ability to do what makes them happy, I am recognizing more and more joy in myself.
"I don't want to go to go practice because SHE will be there" turned into, "I made a commitment to be part of this, and so did she. We both really enjoy this. Maybe there will be other things we have in common."
"He doesn't look at me in the halls. He not like me." turned into, "If I see him in the halls today, I'll start a conversation with him."
The thoughts in your head and the choices you make will reflect on whether or not you are happy. If you want to have a happy and full life, it's not hard to make decisions that will allow that.
I still catch myself beginning to say something, or think something less than respectful, and when that happens I replace the negative thing with a good thing. My hope is that eventually, I won't have to make a conscious effort to find something nice about someone, and that the negative comments will be hard to come by.
Judging doesn't do anyone any good, and by dropping judgment I've already noticed I have happier voices in my head.
Have a very merry winter time! 

Wintertimes

Last winter the snow fell a little less than normal downtown. The hills got much more than they needed, but downtown we only saw a few huge dumpings, and then just some light snowfalls. It snowed last night, and this morning I was pleased to find the flakes had stuck. The ground is the same pillowy grey as the sky, and there is a feeling of needing a hot cup of coffee and snuggling with a blanket while reading a book. Or in my case, writing a blog post.
Last winter, times were hard. It was the first holiday season my family would spend without a fully tact group. My dad lived in a little condo that had a beautiful view of the town, the lake, and in the distant you could see the huge hills and mountains I have grown up with. For the first time in years, we had TV reception, so we spent most of our time eating chocolate covered raisins, and watching TLC. The condo had poor heating which gave us an excuse to constantly be dressed in sweats and fluffy socks while swaddled in a blanket. In retrospect, that sounds like heaven. But of course, as my siblings and I were living it, it was less than perfect. We were being juggled by our parents and it wasn't pleasant.
At the same time, my mom was struggling with keeping the house. She searched for a house with an affordable rent, and luckily for her, a family friend was moving out of a house, and the landlords needed a new tenant ASAP. Now she lives in the most darling home. Because we moved in a few days before Christmas, my best memories of the house so far are all winter related. This means the winter time will be even more special when are at her house. The cinnamon smell from the kitchen, the cute new cats, the nice lighting, old fashioned wall paper, and the fact that she completely unpacked everything in time for us to have a nice holiday in her house, all added up to a very lovely, homey house.
Despite the fact that every member of my family was extremely depressed last winter, it was one of the  better holiday seasons I've experienced.  Thanksgiving is coming soon, and with it, Christmas music. This music is unique to all other music, because no matter how many years in a row my family has been stuck with the same CDs, it brings a cheery feeling to my homes.
I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving, and a lovely Christmas season.

Serpent Tears

I just want to say thank you to everyone who's emailed me.

I've gotten your emails and I appreciate them. I want to reply but I don't know how....That's my thing. I can talk and talk but my communication skills are not very good. You've reached out to me and told me your stories-that's exactly what I want! I love hearing from you. At first I thought I would keep this as a blog for kids who's parent's are divorcing. But I've not heard from a single kid. Everyone who's emailed me has been an adult and they've told me their stories.

I apologize. I've wanted to reply so badly. But I just don't know how....It's something I'm going to work on.
So keep emailing me. Don't think that I want you to stop just because I haven't replied.

This picture was sent to me from a friend of mine, and it's actually amazing how much it means. (MBA-I've set it as my background so every time I see it I think of you. Thank you.)

Huzaah!

As you may know, last summer my parents split up. I had discovered that my dad was having an affair with a close family friend. This woman was my doctor for years, and I babysat her kids a lot so I trusted her. Well life was a downward spiral of crap after that.
For the first week I slept in a tent outside my house.
In the front of my brain I was thinking:  "It's hot in the house.  I want to see the stars at night. It will be fun."
But I know now that my subconscious was thinking: "I need to get out of the house to escape the chaos. It'll help me organize my thoughts to have an area to myself. I need alone time. etc..."
That's how I dealt with it.

But I've still been carrying around load of crud. Only yesterday I was telling myself I hated my dad for cheating and I hated the woman he cheated with, and that I hated everyone of my friends for any second of time that they spent being disloyal.
So today when I woke up, I was pissed like usual.
Pissed that I was too lazy to clean my sheets so I was sleeping on the couch.
Pissed that my back hurt from sleeping on the couch.
Pissed that our couch was at an angle instead of sitting like a normal couch so you don't slip into the crease where it was folded.
Then I fully woke up and I realized I was just grumpy cause it was early and I hadn't slept much.
So that was when I realized: Wait...then why AM I in a bad mood? Which is when it hit me.
Every morning I wake up unhappy about this one thing in particular and it was only this morning that I realized what it was and what I needed to do to get over it.
Step 1) Recognize the issue.
Issue is that papa cheated. I "hate" her. Mom is dating. I actually like him. This is unfair.

Step 2) Think it over.
I hate her because I was supposed to trust her-she was my doctor and she was a close family friend. She basically said, "Screw that" and tossed it away like it didn't matter. My mom has a boyfriend. He's a very cool dude. I like him. Why do I like him? Well for one thing, my mom didn't leave her marriage for him. Why is this unfair? Because it feels like I'm choosing sides.
HOLD IT!
Choosing sides? Where does that come from? All I'm doing is saying I like one person and that I don't like another. It means nothing about either one of my parents. I need to remember that.

Step 3) Fix it!
I don't hate her. I hate the fact that she betrayed her husband, her kids, the friendship between her and my mom, me, my sister, and my brother. I hate the fact that I gave this woman full disclosure and now I don't trust her.
I hate that instead of trying to make a connection with me and my siblings, she's made sure we can't contact her in any way except in person. If you are going to date someone who has children, you should be making a connection with the kids. Not blocking them on facebook or avoiding eye contact while in a public area.
It's not like I woke up this morning and all of a sudden I want to be best pals with her and have her take me shopping or to go out to lunch or any of that. But it'd be nice if she put in some effort. And I hate the fact that I'm the first one to accept her. It's not like I am suddenly happy she and my dad are seeing each other. I'm not at all pleased about that. I still think she did wrong, and my opinion on the matter will never change.
But knowing that I am no longer going to have an immediate "F**** you" response to even the mention of her name.
I'm moving on cause I'm sick of all the anger, confusion, and hurt.
And now I leave you with a song and a quote. Both have been running through my head and they fit the post nicely.

"Hatred is far too great a burden to bare. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated." 

~Coretta Scott King

2011-2012

2011. My Personal Year. of. suck.

There were great times, and there were bad times. Heart wrenching things happened. Not for better or worse, they just happened.
I've been told, "Well, it's a new year, none of that stuff matters anymore." I want to ask them, "Who do you think you are?"
I know. It's rude of me.
"Sophie, you shouldn't get so caught up in it all."
"Sophia, you're so strong, you never worry."
"Sophia, why do you even let it bother you?"
"It's just one year, in the long run it doesn't matter."
These are the things I get told so often. I shove those words away because, while they are trying to comfort me, it doesn't help. I almost find it insulting. What do you mean I shouldn't get caught up in it all? It's my life, my family. These are problems that I can't ignore.
I'm not going to say I'm not strong. I know I am. But If I am so strong, why is it never put out of my head? I worry all the time. I've met you like..twice[the person who's said that that to me], so how could you know if I am worry free?
This last one, while partly true, is baloney. Yes in the long run, one year's activities won't be remembered forever. But to say that it doesn't matter? You're kidding yourself.
Every year, month, week, day, second matter of your life. Whether its' a glace at a stranger, a meal with friends, a meal by yourself, a laugh, a cry, scream or a shout, it all matters. Don't tell me that when my parent's get a divorce it doesn't matter. So far it's the biggest thing that's happened in my life.
It might hurt, but it's not something I'll ever try to forget. It's been half a year since my parents split and I've already learned so much about myself that I didn't know before. If my parent's hadn't broken up, I wouldn't be this same girl.  2011 mattered, even in the long run.

2012 is going to be a full year. Not full as in busy, but full of life. This coming year will be difficult. We'll all get angry, and we'll all be excited. We'll be sad, and joyful, friendly, and distant throughout the year.

This year I am going to make New years resolutions and a Bucket list. I'm going to find awesome music and I won't stop listening to it. It makes me happy. I'm going to write like crazy, and paint lots. I'm going to do what I like to do, and just live more. I'm 14 years old, but I'm ready to live. It doesn't matter your age. This year, I challenge you to live.

So, go out and have a marvelous New Year. And a very full year.

Finding Joy

This happened a while ago, but I'm still really inspired by it. :) I posted it on my other blog, So Write, a few weeks ago.

Today I went to school. I was expecting the usual; being bored out of my mind, avoiding tripping over the other students in the crammed hallways, teachers yelling to get our attention. I didn't know we were having a guest speaker talk to us about the Columbine Highschool Incident in '99.
I hadn't ever heard the story before, and it was unbelievable. By the end of the 2 hour presentation, everyone was in tears. I don't want to get into it, because I've only heard the story once, I'm afraid I might get it wrong. But I'll leave a few links on where you can find out more about what happened, and the story of Rachel Joy Scott's life.
There are a few guys at our school who act super tough. They're the ones who pick on people the most. They were the ones who were touched the most by Rachel's story. It was an incredible experience.
I was also nominated in my advisory to go to an extra session with two other people from each of the advisories at the school. There were about 60 people crammed in the library, after the main assembly. The speaker didn't focus so much on the violence, but more on Rachel's life story. How she affected those around her-the ones who didn't treat her with respect, the ones she met once, the ones she didn't know, the one's who were her close friends and family-all of them. They were all affected by Rachel's story.
In the smaller session, we had a few students stand up and share with the rest of us their personal story. Lots of people were crying, lots of people were silent. Everyone was thinking about Rachel.
Rachel was all about being kind, and reaching out to others.
By the end of the day, we all walked to our last classes feeling more confident, with more goals, with more self knowledge, and more joy. It seems odd that I could've found joy from her story. But I did. Her way of life was so amazing. She wanted to know people, and help people. And she didn't just want to do it, she did do it. Every minute of every day that's what she did. It was so inspiring. And the stories that my fellow classmates told were so touching. We all felt safe crying together, no one was laughing at us for doing so. We were comforting each other, and being each other's Rachel's.
It was amazing.
I've just finished making cupcakes, because I am happy, and baking makes my happiness last, I've found. I'll post a picture eventually, but I don't have it on my computer at the moment.
Click the links, and read up on Rachel Scott, and Rachel's Challenge. It will change your life. I promise.
http://rachelschallenge.org/
http://www.facebook.com/pages/In-Memory-of-Rachel-Joy-Scott/189023856889?sk=wall
http://www.facebook.com/rachelschallenge
http://twitter.com/#!/RachelsChalleng

And here's the cupcake recipe: http://betweenfactandfiction.blogspot.com/2011/08/happy-writers-lime-cupcakes-for.html

On a Rainy Day

I wrote this a few days ago and posted it on my other blog, So Write. Now I'm sharing it with you. 

Right this second I want to be somewhere rainy, and cold, and Far Far Far away from this town, and my life.
I want to make tea for myself, and get out my journal and my computer and have time to myself to write.


I don't want to have to go to school tomorrow. Running a mile is not something I feel like doing at this time. Doing math does not sound appealing. Studying mnemonics does seem boring and uninteresting.
What I want to do is go somewhere I've never been, and write. I could write anything right now, but I'd really love to finish my book. I know I'm not yet half way done with the first draft, but once I'm finished with it, I'll feel so much better.



I told someone this, and they said, "You're just depressed."
No, I'm not depressed. I'm fed up. At this moment, It's time for me to have a little while to myself without having discussions about astrology, geometry, weight lifting, or solfege notes.

Right now, I need to be somewhere where It's quiet, and peaceful, and I don't have to worry about having an awkward conversation about how long I'll stay at each parent's house.


I want to be somewhere wet, clean, and alone. To get away from my life for a while, and just WRITE.
I desire a different setting right now. That is all.

I'm Not Taking My Own Advice In This Post....

Just catching you up. I posted this a while ago on my other blog, So Write.

Tonight, I am going to an art show. The Confluence Art Walk to be exact. I've never heard of them, but a friend of mine is hosting, and so we are going. I can't wait! Every time I see any art, I get a sense of respect for....everything. I'm making it sound corny, which is not my intention.
It's like I realize that they spent so long  on that piece of work.
A lot of artists think it's not just right, that it's not good enough, and we'll work and work to get it the way we want. Not everyone will like our finished products. A lot will. But we don't let that get in our way.
We keep sculpting, or painting, or writing or what ever it is we do and don't let others' opinions define us. This doesn't mean we don't care what other people think, it just means we know what makes us happy, and how we like to express our emotions.
I honesty believe that everyone is an artist(If my sister is reading this, Naomi, I apologize for the corniness. At least it's not as bad as Beauty and the Beast) no matter what they do it. If they're a constructor, a painter, a designer, a knitter, a baker, a writer, or really anything, it's a form of art.
And as if this cheesy enough, here's what I'm trying to get at.
You are wonderful. You're talented. You don't have to care what the other people think about you, as long as you know who you are, and what do what you love. Don't go the extra mile just to please other people. If you do something you really love, someone out there will really love it, just like you.
“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life. Define yourself.” ~Harvey Fierstein

What 'Home' Means to Me

This is one of my journal entries that I wrote a few months ago while visiting my grandparents. My parent's had been split up less than a month, I think. So, I'm just catching you up. I posted this a while ago on my other blog, So Write.

August 2nd, 2011            Current Age--13

Home.
Some people don't realize how strong this word is. I sometimes say, "I've got to go home," when I am actually referring to the house in which I live in. Just because it is my house, doesn't make it my home. In my family, things are occurring, that will make me and my siblings have two houses. For me, neither of them will completely my home.
I have lived in many houses. Lots of them were completely 'Home'. In fact, all of them, except for the two most recent houses have been 'home'.
For a year, I lived in a house that my family was renting. We shared the house with my mom's parents, which was nice. Oliver, my brother, and I shared a room. It was okay that we were sharing. I had always had a bedroom buddy, so I didn't know that I was missing out. It was a good house to live in, but we all knew it wouldn't be home.
Now I'm living in a house with my own bedroom. I've decorated it to my liking, and I have plenty of space to spread out. It is the first house I've ever lived in, where I had my own bedroom. The house is nice. Pretty big, and a nice yard, but something about it just hasn't been quite 'home'. And now, with the arrangement between my parents, it will only be one of mine.
When I think 'home', I think about the house that my dad grew up in. A cozy little place in Centralia. My Grandma, and Grandpa are still living in it, and we go to visit them from time to time.
A few days ago, Oliver and I decided we wanted to stay with them for a week. We were both excited until my mom drove away.
I've never been homesick before. Even when I was a really little kid, I never missed my family.
But as soon as my mom got in the car and started to drive back, I regretted coming. It was wonderful to see my grandparents, but I just wanted to be with my family.
For the rest of the day, I would hover around the bathroom, convincing myself not to cry. Something about being back in that house, was bringing out all of my unspoken emotions. I wanted to be in MY house. In MY town. Being there made me realize, that there can be more that one 'home'. This house was my home. And Chelan, was my home.
Just when I thought I had overcome my homesickness, I went to the living room and lay down on the couch. And too late, I realized my mistake. This couch was a hide-a-bed, and whenever my family was visiting, this was where my parents slept. As soon as I lay down on the couch, all of my feelings came flooding to me.
Tears were running down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop them, though I tried.  I think I was so homesick because of everything that's been going on with my family. Laying in the same place my parents did so many times, was like having them present, when they were together.
This house was reminding me of all the old times that we probably won't see again. When all together, the five of us, were a Home, no matter where we were.
I know it sounds corny, but this is Life, As Written by a Nobody.

The Importance of Keeping a Journal

Just catching you up. :) This is something I wrote for my other blog, So Write.

Hello! I hAve been keeping a journal. With things the way they are here(crazy), it's inspired me to write about what's happening in my life. So later on, I can look back at the journal and say, "Wow. That was quite an eventful time. I would have forgotten parts of how I felt then, if I hadn't written the journal." Plus, journalism, as far as I've heard, is the best way to practice writing-no matter what subject your writing is.
So, this post is about the importance of keeping a journal. That has two meanings. 1) Write about the events in your life, no matter how unimportant they seem. They will be important later, while you are reading through your journals, trying to remember bits of your past. Not everything will be extremely important, but everything is worth writing about. And 2)It's really, really, really important to keep a journal. Keep every bit of paper that you wrote on. It's not being a pack rat. It's being a memory keeper. I'm only 13, and I already regret recycling some of my old journals. Because now I don't remember everything I did when I was 9. What I did at sleep overs, how I felt about arguments I was in, and many other things. It helps so much to keep your journals for many reasons. To remember your life, and also, learning new ways of writing and remembering the old ways of writing.
I now keep every journal I fill up. Because someday I am going to look through them and I am going to appreciate what I did and how I felt even more. Plus, not only is it good practice to write about your life, but it is also a ton of fun.
Happy writing!!

Welcome!

This is a place where I will share my thoughts. For a while I wrote about my thoughts on my other blog, which I decided I'm only going to use for my actual writing.
On this blog, I will post things mostly involving my parent's separation.
I'm not the kind of person who likes to talk to other people about heavy stuff. I've actually only talked to three people about it(outside of my family) in person. When I write it down, it's so much easier for me to grasp what my actual emotions are. When I'm talking to my friends I'm afraid of being judged. It's like...I don't know how to put it into words....All I know is that when I'm writing, it just flows out from my head onto the journal where I can look at it, and understand what I am feeling, and put it into vocal words.
SO, this is a place where I am going to post my journal entries. I'm not looking for critiquing. Not really even looking for sympathy. Mostly I'm just speaking my mind, and sharing my experience with other kids who are going through the same thing. Letting them know that they're not the only ones. I'm stating facts, that may not be true to anyone but me.
Now, without further ado, I welcome you to my mind. Please, get a comfortable seat; It's most likely going to be a bumpy ride.