Consolation

I was in church this morning when I heard a beautiful sermon given by my pastor. It talked about the idea of true comfort- or consolation and how it comes from Christ. For the sermon to really take its toll I needed to chew on it for a bit of time. Hours later I find myself amazed at the enlightenment that comes with figuring out the meaning of that idea: consolation.

The arrival of the one year anniversary of my continuous dilemma is approaching fast and as I reflect on the implications that it has left, I almost feel like laughing. I have had this silent mantra for the last year of, “someday” and while I haven’t neglected the current, I have failed to understand the past for what it really was. I don’t mean to be vague or nonsensical but the truth is that when I examine my actions and wishes I realize that they don’t even make sense. This elephant on my chest has been invited for no reason and I have been foolish to let it overstay a welcome it never should have received.

There are people at my school who can drive me up the wall with their answer to every struggle saying, “it’s life,” but when I take a few steps back and see things for what they really are I agree. We don’t always know why life seems inadequate, confusing, anguishing, or even trite but we can find hope knowing that it’s supposed to be that way because at the end of climb we reach the pinnacle and there we can see the valley we have trudged through. When we see that struggle it often times seems ridiculous or perhaps easier than we made it out to be, but by examining it we learn.

I guess what I have taken out of this long due epiphany is exactly what Oscar Wilde once wrote, “I am not young enough to know everything.” For this last year I have been so overwhelmed but I realize now that it wasn’t the situation that made me confused, but rather myself. Instead of trusting that things were going to change for the better I held the cards in my hand thinking that if I could just persevere a bit more I could win the game.

I didn’t win anything, but rather I lost precious time over something that doesn’t even matter anymore.

Today I want to begin living again. I want to stop dreaming for something to happen. I want to stop trying to be in control of situations that I could never dictate. I want this peace to continue that I feel right now in this instant, and I know that it only comes with succumbing to something bigger. In the future I am going to doubt and cry juts like have doubted and have cried. I am going to want to make it happen myself, and I wont make “it” happen. But if I let someone greater take the reigns, and I understand that the struggle will produce exactly what it needs to then I will jump with happiness at the top of that mountain.

In three weeks I am going to step onto pavement at a place filled with memories, but I am going to be alright. I will be able to qualify Wilde’s statement, I can agree with Tolstoy’s philosophy on the source of wisdom, and for the first time, in a long time, I will be able to feel something glorious, comfort.

A Letter to the Self Important

Pretentious people suck, especially when they go public. Seriously do you think that the world is so ignorant that we have no idea what you are trying to “subliminally” get across? Nine times out of ten your Josie and the Pussycats doll plan isn’t working.

Does my wall really need to be clogged with your nonsensical, annoying ideas?

Sure, everyone is guilty of being pompous and in this blog I subject myself to hypocrisy, but at least I am not flashing the world.

And on a rainy day too. I get on Facebook to comment on the apocalypse like weather that Hell is experiencing and instead I am competing with the attention that your status is receiving. COME ON!

I would just delete you from my friends, but then I would really be a jerk. (Instead I just blog about you- that is much friendlier)

I wonder if Dr. Pretentious Poster knows they are clashing with a good day. Probably. Dr. Pretentious Poster’s whole M.O. is to make them known. If I wanted to be ostentatious then I would drop names like Yale, Luis Vuitton, Versace, and Columbia too. But I don’t. Just saying.

So, my daily word of advice? Stop trying to use Socrates like humility. No one believed him and they certainly aren’t biting into your humble pie. You aren’t fooling anyone. This childish innocence you attempt to portray was old in kindergarten; please stop subjecting your peers to it.

The world would be a more wonderful place if no one had to hear, or read your haughty words, so why don’t you do us a favor and post something we would all enjoy from you:

Silence.

A Rant From Physics Class

For the second time I write from a class where no learning can take place, no science can be explored, and where classical music levels higher than the instructors voice. Yes, Physics class.

Chemistry last year, to put it midley, was hell. As an averadge student in math I struggled to excell in stochiometry, master balancing equations, take pride in moles, and while I ultimatly would pass the class any word realting to Dr. Davis's brutal college level course makes me shudder.

However, in comparison to chemistry, Physics is a breeze. Sure, really no learning has occured, but at least I can come into class fearless. I never have to worry about not having assignments or God forbid, not focusing entirley on Physics!

Well, I just wanted to rant, obviously. Now I am off to do something productful.

This Just In! Hollywood Has Real Grasp Of Reality!

Currently I am in my honors physics class "graphing equations." The truth is my physics teacher so far hasnt exactly given us the knowledge on how to do so, and has left us in the dark on this "Logger-Pro software. Behind me physics partners play cards, to my right a senior is texting, I can hear the clinging of tin cans as a kid with glasses finishes a "teenage" version of a healthy breakfast.

I myself have been personally avoiding this assignment along with the rest of my physics class by playing bubble struggle. I suck at bubble struggle.

But do not be discouraged readers, progress has been made in this class! My partner discovered the wonderful world of Chinese Youtube, behind me someone is successfully training to be a Vegas blackjack dealer. One guy actually understands what to do.

I never actually believed in Hollywood's version of high school, you know the jocks, cheerleaders, nerds in lockers (mainly becuase our school doesn't have lockers) and the main idea that kids can juts do whatever they want in class. Well, my Larry King twin of a physics teacher has slightly altered my doubts of their true knowledge of reality. Slightly.

Perhaps Will Ferrel is wrong in his new movie "The Other Guys" when he says that the movie induustry lies about explosions and how the human body reacts to them. Maybe the true charlotans in scoiety are the scientists and philosiphers...

NEW UPDATE ON THE CLASS EVENTS:
One more child finished a problem! Good job student, only seven more to go, at this rate you will be proving Einstein wrong in two lifetimes! You should feel proud.

True, my words can be harsh, but I say them it the most respect for 2/7 of my physics class. I have genuine faith that some people in here are actually intelligent when it comes to science. The main reason why I think that most of us are confused and finding non-physics realated activities to fill their 2nd hour, is becuase Larry King needs to actually teach.

Speaking of Larry King, (the actual Larry King, not Mr. Nicholls) he is on his last season of his show. Suprisingly I did learn this physics class.

Now, I understand that this blog post might be a tad unorganized and for that I apologize, but I would at this point like to venture on yet another tangent. Perhaps this lack of knowledge on how to do things in his class, is a sign that our dear Larry King look alike needs to retire.

Well, it is almost time to shut down the old computer. Goodbye readers. Off the Espanol!

Playlist

This is, truthfully a second post slightly devoted and made for _____. But since music seems to be having the most effect on my thoughts about ______ these days I will show you my play list, not that you really care, but it is a good way to document these feelings.

1. Half of My Heart –John Mayer
2. Baby- Justin Bieber
3. Somewhere Only We Know-Keane
4. Hero-Regina Spektor
5. Better-Regina Spektor
6. Come Around-Rosi Golan
7. Sweet Disposition- The Temper Trap
8. Here Comes Your Man-Meghan Smith
9. You’re Not Sorry-Taylor Swift
10. Forever & Always-Taylor Swift
11. You Belong With Me-Taylor Swift
12. Oceans-The Format
13. In the Dark of The Night-Anastasia

I think honestly this could continue longer, but then again what about this whole thing doesn’t continue to be continued longer than it should?

Shamu, Your Tank Makes Me Blue (no, I didn't get splashed)

The water parted left and right as the whales sailed through the water. Endless waves seemed to tower over the crowd when they pounded their tales into the blue pond. I was amazed at how wild creatures could be tamed and trained to do flips, twists, turns, and how they could soar.

When the dolphins launched themselves over fifteen feet in the air I was flabbergasted.

I saw Polar Bears up close; I fed Flamingos, flinched at the sight of eels, and stood under sharks, but despite all of my wonderful experiences and delightful company, something was wrong…

I’ve never been a crazy animal lover who only eats mushrooms and other vegetables but I’ve never been Kitler either, so writing this may be slightly shocking to my readers, and even me.

Did you know that Shamu’s tank is only 36 feet deep? This seems terribly small when considering that an adult orca can be up to 30 feet long and weigh more than a few tons?

Remember that scene in “Happy Feet” where Mumble is in the zoo exhibit and he keeps hitting the glass walls and he constantly runs into the arctic backdrop? Well this isn’t a classic Hollywood over exaggerated reenactment, it is so true! Today, when looking at the penguin exhibit I saw not one, but two penguins have the same “Happy Feet” moment minus the dancing.

I am torn at this point. I love seeing animals up close and personal, but when I consider the facilities provided for these animals, specifically the acute dimensions of these facilities, I am disgusted.

Who decided that these tanks and ponds were large enough for these animals? When was swimming in circles and sleeping on fake ice considered humane?

If these parks charge sixty dollars and over for each ticket and have thousands of people showing up every day why cant they spend the extra money to ensure that these animals have more space? Why wont they?

I had a great day today all things considered. I love seeing all of these exquisite creatures so you wont see me being some obsessive vegetarian-animal rights activist, or even protesting the owners of Seaworld and Bush Gardens. However fellow representatives you can bet that when I start writing bills this year there just might be one about expanding these animals’ habitats and I would hope you all vote to pass them.

Falling in Love at a Taco Shop

“I never knew just what it was about this old coffee (taco) shop I loved so much”

When one is hungry the question pops into your head, what for? Seeing that America is the land of many cultures, we have it all. Autumn and I had a dilemma though, where should we go to eat, and how far did we really want to walk? The answer we wanted Subway, but there was no way in the world we would walk the distance to get an over priced, under stuffed sandwich.

So we decided to be sloth and head over across the street to the less appealing, more walking friendly taco shop.

Autumn and I dined outside of the taco shop at an oversized table with a tostada and chicken burrito… but not for long…

While starting yet another game of 1,2,3 a group of guys came into the taco shop, ordered and one came out. I said he was Autumn’s 2 and as she was deciding, I realized something, he was staring at us a lot.

Autumn and I were chatting about my awesome “The Hangover” t-shirt when he started laughing and put his input into the conversation. Soon he sat down next to us and then what seemed like a second later his friend joined too.

“How old are you?” Was their question after they discovered we were from Phoenix (thanks Autumn for telling them everything) Autumn said she was a senior and before I could add my age they continued talking to us.

As soon as their food was ready they asked if they could eat with us. Autumn and I were already finished and though she gave me a look of deep desire to stay and enjoy the scruffy looking company I said goodbye to Autumn’s number two and his compadre with a bun and we walked across the street.

If you didn’t already guess, Autumn kept this number two and insisted that she was seriously liking him… ILLEGAL in so many ways was my immediate idea, but I trudged more than willingly back in the direction of the taco shop so I could try to get a picture of them for her… it failed, zoom in the dark only enhances so much.

And while the next part of our evening consisted of many other odd 20 something’s hitting on us, Autumn was oddly attracted to this number two… lets call him Connor for our purposes.

Back at the beach house we discovered along with “Last Name” by Carrie Underwood and “In my Head” By Jason Derulo, “Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop” or Taco shop was Autumn and Connor’s song.

My theory is that tomorrow we will make another trip to the taco shop where we will see if they happen to show up, if so I can certainly see a wedding in the near future, I picture a Spanish theme, mismatched plates for the dinner, a color scheme of bright golds, greens, reds, and yellows. The venue will naturally be the beach for the ceremony and then the reception will be held at the Dirty Bird, for reasons that the viewers of this blog wouldn’t understand. Her dress will be a simple mermaid dress with lots of lace. The food will be classic Mexican, and it will be served and eaten family style. The music will be classics meets now, with a spotlight first dance to a most brilliant Landon Pigg song…

“If I didn't know you I'd rather not know
If I couldn't have you I'd rather be alone

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much
All of the while I never knew

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much
All of the while I never knew

All of the while
All of the while
All of the while it was you, you!”

1,2,3 He's Yours

Seeing as I own every season of Gilmore Girls, I was bound to find this game out sooner or later. It’s called 1, 2, 3- He’s yours. But, we’ll discuss that later gator.

We began our quest with a fellowship of four… nah that doesn’t sound right. Autumn, Brittney, Dad and I set forth this morning to head for California. After stopping at Grandmas, picking up our crap, and getting gas, we were off! Dad drove most of the way until we got to Gila Bend where he traded me seats and I became the driver.

I was supposed to drive to Yuma, then we would stop for lunch.

You know it is funny how some people don’t quite understand technology. My dad, being in the passenger seat, got to control the I-pod. After repeating the same song a few times, playing Justin Beiber, and confusing the menu button with play, he became a pro!

His selections we fairly predictable, The Kinks, Nirvana, Nickelback… but when he started playing “My Humps” by The Black Eyed Peas we were, obviously, a tad worried and very much amused.

Seeing that we are in California now, it goes without saying that my Dad and I drove us all in one piece.

1,2,3 He’s yours is a great game. Here is how it works. You and another girl (it could be interchanged for men I suppose) sit down, or walk in Autumn’s and my case. Then the first guy you see you offer to your friend. She can choose to keep him and be blissfully in love and have three million babies, or she can pass him. If number uno doesn’t make the cut, and number two doesn’t either she can have number three. BUT, number three stays because 1,2,3 He’s yours.

I ended up with a guy with a “Tapout” T-shirt, a hipster, and a lot of old men. Autumn received a few hobos, a hot dude, and my favorite, Santa. No joke this man was the most accurate depiction of Santa walking down Mission Beach.

But hey, it’s okay Autumn says he gives her lots of gifts. HA!

We then got pizza, a few movies, perused Urban Outfitters, and watched “500 Days of Summer.” All in all I’d say it was a successful first day in California, I cant wait until tomorrow morning coffee and sunrise.

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Lord knows it would be the first time…

You know The Smiths have an incredible insight to what I feel many people are feeling many a time in their lives. I think a lot of people are waiting for something they want, are desperately dreaming that they get it soon, or maybe even questioning why they want it.

Webster defines desire as long "to long or hope for, to express a wish for” Urban Dictionary defines desire as “the cause of suffering” or my personal favorite “when you want sumtin’ bad!”

As I sit in my bedroom listening to The Smiths and She & Him I have to wonder why things don’t always work out the way we want them to? Why am I still pining over something I know I shouldn’t? Why is there this desire for this something that didn’t do me well in the past?

A theory I have is perhaps I didn’t receive correct closer. Perhaps I wasn’t fully satisfied with the ending this haiku provided me with…

Just yesterday a friend of mine posed the question on his Facebook, “how come after all the sh**t you put me through, I still can’t get over you?” Most everyone agreed that this was a timeless question that they themselves couldn’t figure out. And after I examined it myself I wondered the same thing.

I am sitting next to where I first really realized something, where I wrote a bridge between this, where I got lost… I am not trying to confuse my perhaps two readers of this blog by being elusive, but at this time I refuse to give too many details away… it makes me both frustrating and deep I think.

Anyways, as I sit here so close to where so much happened I am sitting at a cross rode where I muse whether this is impractical and outlandish, or maybe I just haven’t looked deeply enough into this and I need to take a step back before I draw conclusions.

“So for once in my life, let me get what I want, lord knows it would be the first time…”

Do you find yourself identifying with these lyrics? Is there something you want but can’t get to right now? Do you wonder what makes you crave this thing? Are you debating whether these feelings are even called for?

I am. It is that simple, it is exactly what I feel. Not all the time I guess, but at night sometimes or when there is silence my thoughts go straight to this desire…

The sad thing is perhaps at one time myself and this desire were heading towards the same door but now I fear one, or both have resolved to change hall ways and get lost from the other.

At this point I know I am confused… not terminally, but for some time I will be. If you are in this same situation asking please, please, please let me then I feel utterly and entirely remorseful for you… because as amazing as those lyrics are, this desolate wasteland of thinking and wondering is more than I, and probably you, would like circle in.

Did I just agree with Darwin?

It is said that the best time to tell someone bad news is yesterday. And, unless the world is hiding their own personal time machines that allow them to travel back to yesterday, everyone is avoiding telling someone bad news.

My question, which I send out to the void, is why do we wait to tell people bad news? It can’t be to spare anyone from the immense pain they are sure to face when we tell them… it has to be to save ourselves from our own pain. In fact, I know it is because I am very guilty of being concerned with myself in these situations.

It is very easy to see that people are selfish creatures. We do what we can for ourselves. Darwin describes it in his theory of survival of the fittest. The strongest, those who do the most for themselves, survive. The Bible talks about how we as people have wicked and selfish hearts. Even as children we are not only exposed to the selfishness of those people around us, but also we watch villains who are selfish in our Disney movies.

The classic phrase we all use as two year olds is “mine.” Mine, (“…and they call it a mine, a mine!) that word not only makes the other two year old on the playground mad when you wont give him the truck, but it also lets the world know that even at a young age we are selfish.

We try to be sympathetic, compassionate, and altruistic but many times we fail. We have our moments of true kindness, but many times our motives aren’t concerned about other people.

Don’t get me wrong though, I am not calling society heartless jerks, I am pointing out that we all fail. We try to help others and try to spare their feelings when it comes to bad news but most of the time they get hurt and so do we.

Avoid the news? Sure, that is smart let it resonate in the pit of your stomach, let your conscience eat it up, that will help. No avoiding telling someone doesn’t help anyone.

You may not believe it, but I don’t want to sound depressing. I don’t want to be one of those girls my drama describes who writes poetry about their “organs being filled with tar” I am just expressing the true disgust I have with this very unflattering characteristic I hold.

You can lie about bad news, but try living with that… try letting that person who you need to tell the bad news live without it. Try living a lie. It isn’t easy.

Until the wondrous time machine appears in society, we all have to face the best solution, which is our greatest fear… releasing the news. Sure, yesterday all of my troubles seemed so far away, but today, if I tell the news I can stop having a pit in my stomach. The Sounds may not want to hurt you, but wounds can heal with time, and time is a constant when nothing else is.

Above our selfish ways, above the pain we may feel when telling this bad news… time can be there to aid these situations.

If you made it through this laborious and depressing post, then perhaps you and I can realize that we need to just tell our bad news, stop wishing for yesterday, and realize today is the best day to try and make it better.

Grande In a Venti Cup - "The Blob"

At 11:35 am my ride picked me up and we were on our way to Starbucks. 10 minutes later I was ordering a Grande café vanilla frappachino with extra whip cream. The woman working there asked me if I wanted it in a venti cup. Sure, whatever floats your boat I was thinking, “Sure” I said.

When they called my name I pounded the rapper off of my straw and stuck it into my drink, only to find my hand being attached to a Blob of Whip cream! I didn’t know what to think of this drink, it was half coffee sure, but more importantly it was a huge Blob of whip cream that didn’t seem to dissipate, but instead just like in 1958 seemed to be taking over my drink and if I didn’t act fast might just consume me and the entire town! (Entire Starbucks.)

Just like Steve, poking it with a stick, or in my case a green Starbucks straw, only seemed to make it more active…

This ameba of whip cream made me want to throw it away and shoot it with a fire extinguisher, but seeing that it had not been I who purchased it, I began to drink the thing…

It was overly sweet, not only was the Blob mocking me, but the lady who prepared it was obviously new and overpowered the delicious legal caffeinated drug with too much vanilla. Every sip made me want to drink an ocean of water, bitter, bitter water; something with no taste that could counter this Irvin Yeaworth horror drink. The only refuge to this Blob was a delightful conversation of communism and taking over the galaxy.

Since I was 14 I have always dreamed of working at Starbucks, however you have to be 16 with a work permit from ones school, my dreams have been put on a temporary hold. But maybe, just maybe Starbucks should reconsider the age of their employees… as much as it would pain me and Anna Miller, to maybe anyone over the age of 52? That way a monstrosity of a drink can never be made for anyone again.

If that doesn’t work, perhaps the employees of Starbucks wouldn’t mind having a movie night where they could watch this movie and learn the correct ratio of whip cream to coffee? It might help many a Steve, polite cinema goers, and even one overly opinionated person such as myself.

Starbucks, in all fairness, has my favorite coffee on most days, despite the trauma forced on me today. Maybe one day a comical sequel will be made for this drink, “Beware! The Blob!” But, for now, I’ll keep my grandes, grandes and ventis, ventis…

You're Addicted to Love! (Love, Games, they are interchangeable)

Have you ever played Tetris? You know those random shapes you have to put together to make fit so that you don't die when they all add up and make one huge block? Oh yes that one, yes that one... have you ever played double Tetris? It is ADDICTING!!! I must have just played it for about an hour straight! That is an hour I could have spent reading, running in front of cars, making food, or talking to my friend (who is sitting in the same room playing the same game!)

This obsessive behavior I adopted for this last hour, constantly thinking "I have to win, I have to win, NO SERIOUSLY I have to win" is making me think of the classic Robert Palmer song "Addicted to Love." Well Rob, I might as well face it, I was addicted to Double Tetris. I wanted to get to the next level every single time, I wanted more stars, I wanted to beat my opponent every single time... but God forbid I lost... I would just try harder, and harder!

Instead of admitting defeat, instead of talking to my friend, I continued to play, and play, AND PLAY! (insert EVIL LAUGH!!)

It is this behavior that reminded me of my speech in my final round for the Rotary Speech Competition of this year, why parents need to limit the amount of time their children spend on video games... In my speech I advocated why games created alternate realities, irritable behavior, and a false sense of identity.

For double Tetris I hit the bullseye for each of these well constructed, highly persuasive points. I was in an alternate reality- the reality of the game.. thinking about the game... wanting to beat the game... needing the game, when in fact, reality and huge amounts of time passed me right by. I became irritable, or got irritated at the game. "WHY DID IT KEEP BEATING ME!" Smack talk was coming from every end of the room! "Crap, I just got stuck in a hole of crap-ness." "Grr, this sucks!" and the timeless question.. "WHY!" But finally, I took on a new identity. For every level I passed the game bestowed upon me a new title, Practitioner, Master, Specialist. The list never ended and I loved my new alias.

When my back started to hurt so bad from bending over I stopped. Only to realize that I was an idiot, no joke. This game just tricked me into playing it when the whole time I lost basically. Then after having a Matrix fight with the computer that ended with me blowing it up using 50 tons of explosives I carry on hand, I turned on the song "Addicted to Love" and began typing... with the computer I just... blew... up... Okay so I stepped away frustrated, checked my phone, THEN began typing this long rant about how games, be video, or computer will most always result in addictive behavior.

Moral of the post, learn to stop while you are ahead, or behind in my case.

*Music begins to play...

"You think you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah

it's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

you know you're gonna have to face it

you're addicted to love..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcATvu5f9vE

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

As unfortunate as it may be, this first post is about the infamous Miley Cyrus. More importantly, her video that I recently watched, "Can't Be Tamed" Huh? It seems tome that I am not the only one questioning Miley and her new "look."

Maya Angelou says, in her poem "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,"

"But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage

can seldom see through his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing..."

Perhaps our not so dear Miley feels as if she is trapped inside a small, narrow cage

of 

oppression 

from the millions of tween girls who idolize her and her "Disney

image?" Who knows, all I can say is that she is doing a terrible job of imitating

Lady Gaga, Beyonce, and Ringling Brothers Circus.

Addressing another aspect of the poem, "...he opens his mouth to sing..."

Now, I am not sure if this bird is an alto, soprano, or any other kind of mobster

but I can guarantee that it has a better sound, and better consistency in terms of

songs. Seriously MIley, are you a country star? No.. a pop star? No.. What is next,

Miley Cyrus rapping with T-Pain? Oh, wait I have just been informed she did

make a rap video about why she deleted her Twitter... I follow that with who

cares? Okay Miley what is next... a new CD titled "Miley Cyrus: Polka!"

Perhaps deep down Miley is a good girl, perhaps we should find fault with

Cobra Starship for making this good girl "go bad," but perhaps maybe just maybe

Miley is trying to fit her music and self into a different demographic? My guess is

that we will never know; MIley will still be Flip Flop Miley and wont be caged

for long...