New Years Resolutions

I've never really gotten the appeal of New Years. I've never really counted down. I've never had champagne. I've never done the celebratory kiss. But I've always liked resolutions. I make them all the time. I generally make one at the beginning of the school year and one at the beginning of summer. I like the idea of looking back at your year and trying to figure out how you can make this one a better one.

Generally, you are supposed to come up with your resolutions before the New Year begins. Well, I'm 17 minutes late, as usual. Might as well do my resolutions sometime, why not now. So, instead of doing the smart thing and thinking about my resolutions in my head, or writing them down in a journal, I'm going to post them here. I figure that all of the people who read my blog are close friends of mine, so they already know about all my problems and history.

So here it goes.

One year ago, I stood on my grandma's front step and thought about how I finally had my life in some sort of order. I had my first real boyfriend. I had good friends and I had removed myself from some bad friends. I had school stuff sorted out, with college things looming in the far away future.

In the past year, I messed a lot of things up. I became single. I had my fair share of panic attacks. I stressed about everything. But I also managed to do a lot of things right. I made a lot of new friends. I grew closer to people who i already knew. I got accepted into the college of my dreams.

So today, now 33 minutes ago, there was a bittersweet twang when I stood on my grandma's front steps. I can't wait for the new year. For the challenges I will face. And the people i will meet. But I'm terrified that I will mess everything up again.

Finally, for my resolutions (written to myself):
1. Be healthy. Be active. Eat right. It's due time that when you look in the mirror you don't see your flaws. Don't point them out. Embrace them, or fix them. Stop being lazy about it. You know that you will feel better and be happier if you do.
2. Stop f*cking procrastinating. It's ridiculous. Stop putting off the hard work just because it's hard. Embrace the challenge. Stop spending all your time online doing stupid things. Either be working or doing something meaningful online. Do the stupid stuff later.
3. Think. Before. You. Act. Don't have it be so that you are thought of as unpredictable and spontaneous. Those aren't necessarily always good things. Sometimes it's good to be regular.
4. When you do mess up, and knowing you, you will, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve that. I'm not kidding. You don't.
5. Stop living in "What Ifs." Stop regretting every little decision. This will sound familiar. You may not want to hear it, but it was and still is true: In four years none of this will matter. In one year this won't matter. Honestly, are you going to spend your time thinking about all of this in six months? I know I won't. It's not worth thinking about or worth spending your time regretting things.
6. Have fun. This will be the end of your Senior year in High School and the beginning to your Freshman year of college. Do something fun. Live it up. Live now or you'll regret your time wasted later (Also, refer to #5).

Those are my resolutions. I have these, along with the specifics and some more profanity, in my head. For those few who read my blog, please post your resolutions. Also, thanks for reading this longa** post :) Love you all!

<3 <3 <3 e

Senior Lunch Reflections

I'm going to miss this. Sitting in the band hallway listening to everyone's conversations.

I'm going to miss talking to you.
The rushed homework everyone is trying to finish.
The passing conversations.
The slamming of locker doors.

I'm going to miss my friends.
The way they talk.
The way they gesticulate.
Their laughter.

As college fast approaches I feel myself becoming more and more reflective about what I'm going to miss. I've just realized just how much I'm going to miss this.

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Texting

I like the idea of texting.
The idea that I am constantly there in your life.
And that you are taking moment out of your conversations to reply to me.
I like the idea that I can contact you the second anything happens to me.

Still Not Perfect

Words are chosen,
Finessed and reworked.
Old phrases are changed
and erased.
Gray lines cross out the old,
and write the new. Edits are made,
reread and discarded.
Finally, typed and published.
Still not perfect...

Old Posts

I haven't posted in a while. That doesn't mean that I'm not writing. In fact, I looked on Blogger to see how many drafts of posts I had and there are 22. That's too much. So, in the next few days I'll be actually getting around to posting those...

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Photography

I take pictures because people don't notice the world
And because someone has to.

I find myself fascinated with things
And the beauty in the world.

I think that the fact that we even exist is something
I or anyone else will never understand.

We need to notice things that are around us
And not just try to spend our lives going from point A to point B.

I love watching people's reactions to my photos,
and the way the ask, what is that?

I love it when people have to think about what it is.

I like the idea that life isn't simple,
So why should my photos be?

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Dunn Bros People Watching

I have always loved watching people and the way that they interact. That's why I love public places where I can just sit and watch people. So, I've decided that instead of doing my environmental science homework, I'm going to write about the people that I see (this is probably going to be way more interesting for me than it is going to be reading it).

Table 1: A guy sitting alone on his Apple laptop. He looks vaguely like the father from Even Stevens. Okay, actually, he looks a lot like the dad from Even Stevens. He has been dutifully working on his computer for the last hour and has a large briefcase/computer bag. He keeps looking down at a pack of newspapers/magazines/pamphlets that he has sitting next to him. He's drinking tea. Ha. He just tried to catch a fly. I like this guy. He seems like he would be a good dad. He has a vague smile on his face like either he's reading something entertaining or that's just how his face is. He just went to the bathroom, which doesn't seem like a big thing (in fact it's pretty creepy), but he left all of his stuff out on his table, except for a folder which he put away right before he left. Why would you put that much trust in the strangers around you not to steal your stuff?

Table 2: 60-something guy on a black laptop. I don't recognize the logo, but it's really interesting. He has thick black frames and keps adjusting them. He has an 8-ounce disposable cup on his table, but I think there's another one on his table along with it that's larger. This makes me think that he was trying another type of coffee but didn't want a whole lot of it. He has a forest green back back sitting on the bench next to him. He has a displeased facial expression; the corners of his mouth are turned down. He hasn't been here for long, though he seems ver interesting in what he is doing. This guy isn't very interesting.

Table 3: Woman in her early 20s. I'm sure she's a student at one of the may campuses around. About 30 minutes ago there was a guy sitting with her. They were laughing about something that was on her computer. His cup is still there, but he is no where to be seen. She is dutifully taking notes off of something on her computer. She's written over a page of notes in the past 5 or 10 minutes. I wonder who the guy she was with was, and who he is.

Table 4: A father and son (age 5) that just got here. So far they are my favorite. The dad was eating, but just finished a banana, and the little boy is eating a donut. The dad asked whether he could have some of the donut. The little kid shook his head. I like him. The boy is wearing a helmet and the dad looks slightly sweaty so i'm guessing they biked here. Not too far, but a considerable amount. the little boy keeps looking over at me. But perhaps that's because i keep looking over at him. He and his dad are talking about the pictures that are above my head. The dad is doing something with his iPhone, i really can't tell what. He has a bluetooth in, which bothers me for some reason. The little boy is wearing tractor socks. Okay, this kid is offially my favorite. Apparently what the dad was doing was taking a panoramic shot of the inside of Dunn Bros. He's showing it to his son, but the kid isn't very interested. The kid has a really nice helmet. I've decided his name should be David. I don't know what his actual name is, I'm not eavesdropping, in fact, I'm listening to music. So there. David is still eating his donut, it's identical to the one i had when I got here and i agree with him. It's very good. Oh, no! They are leaving! I liked them. Goodbye David!

Table 5: A man sitting next to me. He was here when i got here (about and hour and a half ago) and has been writing in a moleskin notebook in green ink. I love green ink. His handwriting is really nice. I wonder what he's writing. He has a small lightbulb sitting on his table. I have no idea why. This guy confounds me. He has a crumpled piece of paper sitting on his table. Earlier he was looking at that and writing in his moleskin. He is now doing something on his Blackberry/Android (not an iPhone). He brought his own cup to drink from (GO ECO GUY). The second he got up, the guy from Table 2 moved over here. Why is this table better than the other? Oh, Table 1 guy is talking to the guy who is now sitting next to him. Maybe there was too much talking.

Table 6: The table on the other side of me. An old married couple. Well, not old. Early 60s maybe. The woman, I'll call her Maybelle, is reading the newspaper. He husband, Jerry, is people watching. Or at least I think he is. I can't really see him very well through the plant that is between us. They went to Breadsmith before they got here and they got something to eat now (don't remember what they got) and they have a loaf of bread sitting on a chair next to them. Maybelle is talking about how she wants to go see an exhibit at the history Museum (yes, I know I said I wasn't eavesdropping, but my music got quiet and they were talking kinda loudly). They both have some coffee type drink and a clear glass with water.

Table 7: A guy with sunglasses on his hed. He's pretty indistinguishable, though he has a clipboard and is drawing/writing on. I think he is the manager of a construction project. He seems to be marking out plans on his clipboard. He isn't drinking anything, meaning he's pretty focused on what he's doing. He's thinking a lot about it. He seems slightly confounded by a problem that has arisen. OH! He's drinking. Lol.

I think for now that this is definitely long enough. I'll be surprised if you read all of it!

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The Other Side of the Story

Why is it that no one ever writes about the other side of the story?

You always see those Chick Flicks where the woman realizes that she doesn't love her boyfriend, she loves that guy who's always been there for her. She scampers off to live a perfect life with perfect guy in a beautiful house with beautiful children and a picket fence.

But what happens to her boyfriend? The one who thought that they would have a beautiful house with beautiful children and a picket fence. The one who thought they would be together forever. The one who loved her.

They don't write that story because no one wants to be that guy. To be left behind. It's too sad.

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I Want A Change.

I'm sick of this.
I'm sick of that look you give me.
I'm sick of ignoring you.

I'm sick of caring.
I'm sick of second hand information.
I'm sick of pretending.

I'm sick of dealing.
I'm sick of hoping you'll one day apologize.
I'm sick of this emotional tug-of war.

I want confrontation.
I want to yell and scream at you.
I want to hate you.

I want to talk.
I want you to know what you did.
I want a change.

A Letter To Myself

Dear me,

This is a letter to myself, for when I go back and reread posts, which I commonly do.

In 15 days, school will have ended. You will have taken your SAT and ACT. You will have played at graduation, and had a dance performance. You will have studied and worked and tested and been exhausted. Congratulations on being done.

But, now that that is over, you have an entire summer to finally become what you want to become.

Last summer, you changed. Or at least, you would like to believe that you changed. You became louder. You cared less about what people thought of you. You dressed nicer. You started taking more chances. You did whatever the hell you wanted to do. You put yourself out there. That was a good thing. But you can do more. You are not at your full potential yet, and you know deep down that it would only take a little work to get you there.

This is your chance. Next school year you will be a senior. This is your last chance to make an impression on that box building high school you attend. So do it.

Make your summer count. Don't be one of those people who sleep until 1 and then sit around not doing anything. It was fun last year, but it can't happen again. Take initiative. Do things. Conquer the city.

So, as I finish my post in order to finish my work so that I can do well in these last 15 days until the last bell rings and we are finally released, you have already worked and tested and been exhausted. Lucky you. But, have fun this summer. Do what you need to do so you can do what you want to do. Be who you want to be no matter what you have to do to get there. Be happy.

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Prom!

For one night, we forget everything we know.



We dress as fancy as we want.



We cling to tradition.



We pose for pictures.



We walk carefully.



We dance like no one is watching.



We stay out later than we should.



Thank you all for a wonderful evening that I will never forget.
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Past, Present and Future

The future is a scary idea. It causes anxiety to swell up. It takes planning and effort. It influences everything that we do.

We pretend that we are old. We pretend we can be responsible. We pretend we know what to do. But in actuality, we have no idea what we are doing. We are children. Just because we can drive cars, have relationships and defy our parents doesn't that we are adults.

When we were little, our parents prepared us for life. We played dress up. We played school. We played house. We idealized the older kids, wishing we were that old. Wishing we knew that much. Wishing we had that much responsibility and freedom.

Now that we have it, we focus on the past. When we could play dress up without it costing so much. When we could play school and not actually attend it. When we could play house instead of having to work hard in order to keep ours. We value the innocence and little responsibility we had when we were little.

Just for one day, I wish I could take the weight off my shoulders and run around in my backyard without anything holding me back.
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Visions of Summer

I find my self gazing out the window. If i focus long enough the blanket of snow lifts away, the puddles evaporate and the dead leaves are raked. Next the grass greens, and soon flowers burst from the gardens. I can hear birds chirping, children laughing and the sound of scooters on sidewalks. The sun shines brighter and everything seems better.

Moments later after my gaze is broken, I glance back and it is back to normal.

All I want is for my visions of summer to come true.

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Crashing Cars

I have always equated life to be like a car. Your parents teach you how to drive and then once you do you leave and are independent. You end up driving around slowly picking up people until it is too old and it eventually gives out.

But, as in life and in driving, there are always accidents. One second you are cruising down the road and then time slows. You have hit something. The front of your car buckles and in a last, desperate, attempt to save you, your air bag goes off. But nothing can stop the deafening silence after a crash. The feeling that everything that once was perfect, is now ruined.

I’m just waiting for my crash.

You don't understand

You don't understand
That every word you say hurts.

Every sentence you utter
Cuts me and scars.

Then you wait, and say it again.
Like pouring bleach on a wound.

Don't you understand
How talking to you makes me want to cry?

Nervousness

I went to a fashion show today, and I was struck by the intensity that all the designers must have felt. They took everything that they could and put it into their 5 garments.

I want something like that.

I think that's why I started my blog. I needed a way to tell people things about me, without actually having to tell them. I wanted to showcase my writing and my photography.

But I don't get nervous. Well, not nervous about anything that I'm passionate about. I want to feel that excitement. That terror. That feeling that all the time you put into this project is finally coming together.

I need to find something that I can be horribly nervous about. Any ideas??

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Do You Remember?

Do you remember when the sun shone?
When the flowers bloomed?
And you smiled?



Do you remember what it feels like?
The warm caress of light?
And the lazy wind?



Do you remember the laughter?
The feeling of freedom?
And the lack of stress?



But do you hear it?
The sound of water running?
Of birds starting to sing?



But can you see it?
Puddles forming on the ground?
And ice deteriorating?



I miss it.
So much it hurts.
So much I want to cry.

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Happy Valentines Day

After a really bad day, thank you for making today so nice.



From sitting outside Dunn Bros drinking coffee and hot chocolate, to walking down wet, slushy alleys letting me take as long as I wanted to take my pictures, you made today one of the best.



Happy Valentines Day!
<3 e

Melting Candles

This is a project that I had to do for my English class. We were supposed to think of a memory and then write a scene about it. Enjoy! (WARNING, it's kind of sad, sorry!)

[The stage is filled with chairs lined up facing the audience with an isle down the middle. At the end of the isle is a podium that faces upstage. A door on stage right leads off to the entrance of the room. On stage right, downstage, there are wooden boxes stacked on top of each other with worn teddy bears sitting on top of them. White Christmas lights weave through the bears. On stage left, downstage, more wooden boxes are sitting on the floor with stacks of old, used books on top of them. Candles are on the stacks of book with wax dripping off of the candles and onto the books. On stage left another table is lined up with more books and photo albums, and stray photos. The walls are painted a happy yellow, which contrasts the mood of the room. In the far right side of the stage, downstage, there is an old couch separated by a screen representing another room. Next to the couch is a table with a box of tissues. The lighting is seemingly bright, but a sterile bright. The light is focused on the stacks of books and bears. As the curtain raises people begin to slowly fill the room, all are quietly talking, some are crying. Some people sit down right away, but others walk over to the table and flip through books or photo albums, but they seem distant and unengaged. A couple enters the room, and the light focuses on them. The wife, mid-50s, looks tired, with no makeup, puffy eyes and a shawl that wraps around her. The husband has white hair and is balding; he keeps his arm around his wife as they walk in. People are drawn to them to apologize for their loss, but they walk away once this is said. A family enters. A father, teary, but not crying wears a classic dark suit. His wife, who is in a black dress that seemingly fit her very well a long time ago, but has lost its beauty over the years, follows him. Behind them is a girl, mid-teens, who is quiet but not crying, unlike the others in the room. Another woman walks in, louder and with a forced happiness. She walks up to the podium and the light shifts to her.]
Woman: [Clearing her throat] Hello, everyone. Please have a seat. [People leave the books and photos to sit down. She waits until there is silence.] Thank you. [Pauses] We are here today to remember Lorin. A young man who left us too soon. But he is in a better place now. Now, he is with God.
[Her voice drifts off as the light switches from the woman to the young girl. She seems distracted and slightly bored. Every time the woman at the podium mentions God, her face changes as though the word doesn’t belong. The woman begins to sing a religious song. The rest of the room joins her except for the young girl. The song ends.]
Woman: [Her voice growing louder, until it finally reaches it’s original volume] Thank you. He will be sorely missed. [She turns to the wife.] Karen? [Motioning for the woman to come forward].
Karen: [Walked toward the podium, slowly. The lighting shifting from the young girl to the woman] Thank you all for coming today. It means so much to Dan and I [Motioning to her husband, who nods in agreement. She starts to say something else but her voice catches and she is forced to sit down again.]
Woman: [Standing from where she sat down, but not returning to the podium] If anyone would like to share a story about Lorin, now is the time.
[The room is silent. Finally a man near the back of the room stands up.]
Man: Hello, I’m Frank. I worked with [Pausing] Lorin at Northern Brewery. I knew him for years. I never knew that [Pausing. He decides not to say anymore about Lorin’s death]. Well, anyways. I remember one day when all the guys in the warehouse were having a debate on Aristotle’s philosophy. Then then next day, Lorin walked into walked into work with a sweatshirt that had a pizza stain on the back. When I pointed this out to him he looked at it and said “So there is…” but didn’t do anything about it. Lorin was a wonderful friend and we are sorry to loose him. [His voice fades away and he sits down]
[Another silence fills the room and everyone looks around to see who will share next. The father slowly rises from his seat. As he does this, the light switches to the father and his daughter who seems surprised at the fact that he has gotten up.]
Father: [Clearing his throat] Lorin was a wonderful boy. I knew him for almost his entire life. And he knew my daughter [Motioning to the girl] since she was born. I don’t have many anecdotes about Lorin. But I remember how he would show her [His daughter looks down to her lap, trying to disguise the fact that she feels like crying] video games that she probably shouldn’t have seen [The entire room chuckles quietly, all thinking about Lorin]. He showed her Grand Theft Auto when she was probably seven. I’m not sure if I agreed with his choice of showing her how to steal cars and beat up prostitutes but it was his way of connecting with her. That has always meant a lot to me [The young girl seems as though she is going to begin crying but she regains herself quickly. Her father sits down and the room remains silent until the woman stands up again.]
Woman: Thank you all for coming. There will be a reception at my house, I can give directions to anyone who needs them.
[Everyone rises from their seats and walk over to the tables or the couple who remain seated. The young girl walks over to the stack of books. The candles have dripped onto the books. This seems to bother the girl and she begins to pick at the wax. Her mother walks over to her and tries to talk to her, but the girl dismisses her and walks away. She slowly walks across the stage to the couch. As she does this the lighting on he rest of the room drops down to almost complete darkness. The lighting in the room with the couch remains dim. The girl sits down in the couch and reaches over to the table next to it and takes a tissue from the box. She remains silent as she plays with the tissue in her hands. All of a sudden she begins weeping. She continues weeping for a few seconds until the lights dim and the scene ends.]

It's Been A Long Time

Hey there Blogger!! It's been a long time since I've posted anything. I have been writing blog posts, I just haven't gotten around to taking the pictures for it, I'm just too lazy.

I don't really have anything to write about. Most of what I've been writing about lately is stuff that is personal and that I don't want to post on my blog, sorry!

I just wanted to post to let you know that I'm still alive and writing and taking pictures.
<3 e

I Miss You

I feel like you're not here. And I keep trying to pull you back towards me, but whatever I do you seem more distant. Maybe it's just my skewed view of the world but it seems like you don't want to be here.

I miss you.
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I find myself saying more than I meant to.

Or just not saying anything at all.

The 13th Day of January

Because I have failed so much at my One-Picture-A-Day-In-January-Thing, I'm going to semi-redeem myself by doing two things.

First off is giving you a measly excuse. Pick one to your liking:

1. a. I was busy.
b. I forgot.
c. I fail.
d. I got a new camera for Christmas and I have no idea how to use it. Yet. I'm working on it.

Second is I've decided that I'm going to give you the 13 pictures that you WOULD have received had I done what I had originally said I was going to. But instead of having taken one of these each day, this was me trying to learn my new camera and my new software over the course of the three days after Christmas before I had to start doing homework again (which is what I really should be doing right now). Like with 1, please pick one to you liking.

2. a. My messing around with my camera in my car. I found out how to take Black & White photos on my actual camera and not just through editing. It's the console of my car from where I sit on 6 hour car trips. Can you say fun? No. You can't. Because it's not. Not even remotely.



b. Also taken in the car. In order to add to the fun *cough* we have in the car, we bring out cranky throwing up cats. This was when they were taking a break from blowing out my eardrums. This specifically is Bob sleeping in my mom's lap while she was driving.



c. The bush outside my Grandma's house taken from inside the house with my amazing new zoom. When we arrived it looked something like this, when we left I could see grass. You can imagine my excitement upon arriving back in St. Paul. Ohh the joy.



d. My Grandma's fake Christmas tree. Funny enough, this year she decorated it all alone. My Aunt Jill came over and set up the tree and was going to come over to help my Grandma decorate it, but got super busy so she wasn't able to. So instead, my 87 year old grandma filled a pan full of Christmas ornaments and walked around the tree until she got tired. Sat down. And started all over again. Good going Grandma, it looked amazing as usual!



e. Another view out my Grandma's front window. There were so many icicles when we arrived! I loved how they looked against the grey sky.



f. I don't know why I like this picture so much. There's nothing that's all that pretty about it. I think I like the way that the snow turned out in front of the trash cans. Or maybe it's the contrast between the blue of the cans and the white of the street. Either way, I like it. And now you have to look at it. Ha.



g. This was actually a test shot. My dad was teaching me about the exposures and how to set f-stops because I was trying to get the right settings so that I could take manual shots of the Christmas tree lights (don't worry, I finally got the settings). These are decorations that my Grandma has on her wall. She did the needlepoint herself many years ago and her house if full of them.



h. Speaking/Typing of those Christmas tree lights. I have many of these pictures but this is one of my favorites because of the way that you can see her front bush through the lights. Taking pictures of lights is hard to do. Obviously something I'm going to have to work on.



i. I have found that the best way to take picture of winter is inside. This was from inside my Grandma's front window at the icicles hanging off her roof.



j. More icicles hanging off her roof, except this time the sky was looking really cool.



k. My Grandma's neighbor's trees against the sky. It looked artsy. How could I resist?



l. More Christmas tree lights.



m. The view of the Christmas tree from my Grandma's chair.



n. Technically this is the 14th letter of the alphabet but I couldn't resist. This is my cat. He's crazy.



I'll be adding more later. Probably before the end of January. I hope. But no promises. You know how good at those I am.

Happy New Year!!
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Too Long

You know it's been too long since you've blogged when Blogger doesn't automatically sign you in...

Being Independent is Different Than Being Alone

I used to think that to be independent you had to distance yourself from others in order to "find yourself."

Dictionary.com defines 'independent' as "not influenced or controlled by others in matters of opinion, conduct, etc.; thinking or acting for oneself."

And, by definition, the easiest way to be independent, or to not be influenced by anyone, would to not be near anyone, or, alone.

But there's a difference between being independent and being alone.

When you are independent you can do things for yourself. You know that other people respect you for the fact that you know what you are talking about. You walk proud of who you are, and who you represent.

When you are alone, you can still be independent, but there are more differences in what you feel. The way you feel when you walk into a room where you used to know that you would sit next to someone, but now you don't. Alone is when even in a room full of friends you don't know what any of them did yesterday.

So, for the New Year, be independent, but not alone. No one wants to feel alone.

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