Star Wars: Rogue One Opinions

This has lots of spoilers. Go away if you didn't watch the movie.

Here's what I liked:
-- K-2SO
-- FEMALE X-WING PILOTS!! Yay!!!
-- The new planets
-- Vader actually being somewhat scary. That was good.
-- I am not an expert but it seemed like they did pretty well better than most with diverse casting which is super exciting.
-- JYN ERSO

-- The blind guy and his buddy were awesome (tbh I do not know any of the names except Jyn, Cassian, and Darth Vader)

-- The way it connected to the original/filled the huge plot hole of "Why does there just happen to be this one flaw in the Death Star???"

-- The darkness/realness of the rebellion and the fact that yeah, they did bad stuff too. They're not all Luke Skywalker.

-- R2 and 3PO's cameo

-- Jyn Erso again. Yas.

-- I think I'm in love with Cassian but that might just be because Diego Luna is really hot??

Here's what I didn't like:

I.  I typically watch movies for the characters. I think it's why I have started liking TV shows better than movies -- the characters have time to develop and get cooler and change. And while I LOVE humor and action and fun-ness, I am here for the characters. 

Rogue One had a lot of characters who are cool, yes, but you only got them for what, two hours? Two and a half maybe? You have no time to get attached or see them grow or anything. And because there's like six main characters, you have to try to learn about all of them really quickly. The droid was my favorite, mostly because his attitude reminded me of Holly. Everyone else did cool things, but they had very little personality. 

And because there was no time to learn about/care about the characters, their deaths were really hard to care about. It was like when you hear about a celebrity who you know about but don't really follow dying. Like you know it's sad because they were talented, but it doesn't really matter. 

II. I don't think I was ever wowed, or really even slightly surprised, by the movie. It was exactly predictable per se, but nor was it as twisty as I was led to believe. The moment that surprised me the most was Cassian's "death"... which was promptly ruined when he WASN'T dead, came and saved Jyn, and then died again in her arms. UGH, I should have seen that one coming. I was ANNOYED. 

I am so tired of characters not staying dead, guys. It causes trust issues. (Marvel, DC, I am looking at you.)

III.  There was just too much going on. Like, yes, I liked seeing all the new planets, but I don't remember a single one now and it's been less than twenty-four hours. The whole movie is a blur of gunshots and death, which I really don't think is good. It was all so rushed. 

IV. While Star Wars is doing good on the female character front, on the way home I started thinking about it and... yes, I am SO glad I got two female protagonists in a row, but every other main character in Rogue One was a guy. THERE WERE SIX MAIN CHARACTERS. ONE was a woman. C'mon. It's like, you're trying... but step it up. 

V. Tarkin's voice was so not right that I almost wish they hadn't attempted it. He looked pretty good, though. 

VI. There were several lines that made me laugh/cringe. "I hope you don't choke on your aspirations," for example. WHO LET THAT GO THROUGH. Actually, I laughed at many, many points in the movie that no one else seemed to think was funny... I don't know if I have a warped sense of humor or if everyone just didn't pick up on it. 

VII. They used multiple shots MULTIPLE TIMES. Like?? Buy the third time, it's not an easter egg anymore, it's laziness, guys. 

VIII. People have been bringing this up, but it didn't feel like Star Wars. And that is okay... but I went to see it because it IS Star Wars. I love that world and those stories. If anything, parts of it felt like the Hunger Games. And I LIKE the Hunger Games movies. But I came to see Star Wars.

IX. To go back to the top, JYN AND CASSIAN'S DEATH WAS SO CHEESY.  His first death was so much better. More real, more heartbreaking -- Jyn's glance back and then determined face as she kept climbing was WONDERFUL -- and then he wasn't dead. The clinging to each other on the beach death did not work for me. And the two of them died to what sounded eerily like Padme and Anakin's love theme which made me cringe so hard. 

The movie seemed very unnecessary. It's nice to have that information, but it would have been fine as a wookipedia article or a three-episode arc on Rebels. I feel like it would have been better for everyone if they just skipped this movie, focused on VIII, and made that the best it can be. They won't lose fans in two years. It felt more like a money thing, honestly. 

All in all: decent movie, but not great. I will probably see it again in the near future with my brother and we will see if my feelings change... but I doubt it.

Over-Caffeinated and Under-Motivated, Addi Suddenly Returns to the Scene

Good news, folks: I still possess the corner of the internet for my own thoughts/ramblings/stories/etc.

I realize my blog has been silent for three months. Oops?

Nothing like my impending doom in the form of finals to motivate me to blog.

Yes, I am procrastinating right now.

I want to talk about something that has been in the back of my head for a while.

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Since moving to New York, I have had dozens of people -- my old friends, my new friends, acquaintances, etc. -- comment on my life. I'm so lucky, people are jealous, life goals, that's so cool, I'm brave, etc. etc.

(Side note: This is literally the only picture I have of Times Square and I definitely just took it because of the Fantastic Beasts posters.)

And YES I am blessed beyond belief. If twelve-year-old me could see me now, she would be amazed and vaguely impressed. Also probably a little disappointed that I'm not actually on Broadway. (Lol at twelve/thirteen/fourteen-year-old me who had very different hopes and dreams and also an obsession with Wicked.)

I didn't ever think I would actually get to live here and have so many cool experiences and meet such amazing people. I NEVER thought I would be brave enough to live this far away from my family, but I am. I wouldn't have believed that I would get to stand backstage, even just for a bit, after a Broadway show, but I did. (Hopefully I will again.) I never thought I would get to make art museums and beautiful libraries my study haunts, but here we are. I definitely never thought I'd sleep on the streets of New York.

So, yes, I am living my dream.

But there's a lot that comes with that.

There's little mental breakdowns. There's drama amongst friends. There are homesickness and dirty dishes and hospital runs. There are whole seasons of New Girl and Teen Wolf because I don't know how to manage my time (see above, where I admit I am procrastinating literally right now). There are times when all I eat is muffins and cookies. There's the mild anxiety about everything from my grades to finding a job to what is my purpose and why am I here and am I living up to that and if I don't know what I want/am supposed to be doing then what am I working towards?

I guess... I thought, for some reason, that when I got to college everything would work itself out. College students would be much more mature than high schoolers, I would suddenly be responsible and less clumsy and awkward (HAH), a job or two would suddenly appear, etc. etc.

Naive, at best. Nothing like New York to give you a nice, cold reality check.

And as my first semester ends, I have learned a lot. Mostly what not to do. Mostly from experience.
I've learned that while I am very bad at time management and directions, I can do it.

I've learned how I need to organize everything from my notes to my to-do lists, because I have failed at both.

I can talk to strangers, although that works best if they start the conversation.

I have made doctors appointments ON THE PHONE by myself without saying something stupid.

I've gotten lost.

I've gone to the hospital.

I have failed quizzes and not turned in a paper and said really stupid things in class. Stupid as in pure blonde-moment, seriously-Addi-that-is-common-knowledge stuff.

I have embarrassed myself in every way possible and recovered.

And it has worked out okay. Not much scares me at this point. I will get through with a decent GPA and some solid friends and a lovely church.

This first semester has been wonderful. But, at the same time, it's been rough. Trust me, next semester can only get better.

So... what I've learned is that even "living the dream" is faaaaar from perfect. Because I am still a mess. And you know, it's real life.

But I'll be okay. I can handle New York with a little help from Jesus and my squad.

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Postscript: I reserve the right to take any and all of this back after my final grades are posted. There's still a decent chance I cannot handle anything and am actually just running on false confidence brought on by an abundance of caffeine.

Post-Postscript: Also, if someone wants to move in with me and take pictures for my blog or honestly just teach me how to use a camera so I don't have to subject everyone to blurry photos from my phone, that would be great.

I Could Live Here Forever, I Think

So here's an interesting paradox: I moved to New York for school. I moved here because I wanted to go to King's. Before I visited the school, I didn't want to live here.

And now I can't imagine living anywhere else.

The longer I'm here, the more I love the city. There is so much to do and see and explore. I haven't even been outside of Manhattan and Brooklyn yet.

I love the people here. I love the guy who jumped in on Amelia's and my conversation about the fall of Rome on the subway and talked about cities and names of things are really just labels and ideas in our heads. I love the people who perform in subway cars and on street corners. I love the girl at Target who commiserated with Kelsey and I about paying for groceries on a college budget. I love the man who worked at the theater tonight who was telling people about the theater's ghosts. I love the woman who pointed me toward the Manhattan-bound subway when I got lost in Brooklyn my second week here. I love the people at King's, of course. I love anyone and everyone who lets me pet their dog(s).

Don't let people tell you New Yorkers are rude. They're really not. There's just a different kind of courtesy here. It's not the same code of conduct as in the south or the Midwest. For the most part, it is assumed that people have their own agendas and time frames and are trying to get somewhere. They don't want to be talked to, so it's polite to not talk to them ninety-eight percent of the time. At least, that is my take on it.

I love the places here. The hole-in-the-wall pizza joints, the parks, the bookstores, the rooftops from where you can actually see the stars. I love Times Square at night, all lit up and crowded and feeling like a movie scene. I love Battery Park and looking out at the water and the ships and the Statue of Liberty. I love the Farmer's Markets that are all over the place if you know where and when to look. I love the Met. I love the designer stores that I am too poor to even look at.

I love, love the experiences that are possible here. Impulsively deciding to go to concerts and winning discounted Broadway tickets and watching late night shows get filmed. Stumbling upon street fairs. Meeting super cool people who actually live in China now. Going to book festivals and getting free books that you were going to buy anyways.

And I am sure that this "honeymoon stage" must end at some point. I will suddenly realize how many issues the subway system has, how annoying tourists are, how incredibly small and cold/hot/loud my apartment is, and how many rats are actually in the city.

But for now... For now these are just part of the charms of living here. They are the details that reassure me that I do not live in a cliche movie (although if I was in a movie, a) I would have met a tall, handsome stranger by now, and b) there would have already been at least three musical numbers and a ballad.)

Welcome to New York

I have been living in my apartment in New York City for a week now.

It doesn't feel like that long.

Unless I think about it harder, and then it feels like ages since I've seen my friends and family or ridden in a car or seen a Freddy's or slept in my bed.

But most of the time, it feels like it's only been a couple of days, and everything is still new and fresh and exciting.

I can ride the subway! I can hear protests right outside the building during class! I can walk past Alexander Hamilton's grave every day on the way to school! I can eat whatever I want! I can randomly go to the MET! (I haven't yet, but I can!) I can go to Central Park to study!

It's weird. Wonderful, but weird.

Sometimes it doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel real that I can pop over to Brooklyn for grocery shopping. That I live 1, 385.5 miles away from almost everyone I know. That I can pop over to Battery Park because it's just around the corner.

And other times, I'm carrying toilet paper down Washington Street, and it all feels totally normal. This is life, just in a different city. Life, just with different people.

Meeting people is weird. Trying to make friends can be hard, and I so, so grateful for the House system at King's. I'm grateful for the girls in Barton who will invite me over for cupcakes or just to hang out, who will come over and eat pasta on our floor because there aren't any chairs, for roommates who will teach me how to cook chicken and go grocery shopping with me and help me out when my debit card gets rejected. I'm soooo grateful for phone calls and skype so I can talk to my people back home. I'm grateful for the opportunities to jump right in and get to know kids and professors. I'm grateful for the list of churches and who goes to them so I can start looking for a church to invest in right away. I'm grateful for the first Refuge meeting, and for Eric Bennett for challenging us, and for friends who will already hold me accountable. I am grateful for the amount of freedom and responsibility given to King's students. I am grateful for the Honor Code and the fact that people do take it so seriously and will drill it into our heads.

I cried today -- actually, I've probably cried every day for various reasons: Mom and Dad left, I opened Mom and Dad's card, Ellen said she got to hug Holly, I watched the Priceless movie trailer, I watched Avatar, I watched a So You Think You Can Dance video, I listened to "Sunrise" from In the Heights, etc. I'm someone who cries at most things, really.

But anyway, today stands out because Laura -- who I have officially known for less than a week, although we did meet and talked a bit at the Founder's competition -- complimented me. I don't remember what it was, she was sitting on our hallway floor and I was making pasta and she said something nice and I probably jokingly said something like "Oh, keep going, this is how you can pay for your dinners." I didn't think she would but she did.

And I started crying, not just because a) she was so nice and it was so good to hear that someone appreciated me and that I, individually, was noticed in the sea of hundreds of people that we have met in the past week, but b) the compliments rang true and didn't feel contrived or made up, which reveals a great deal of observation from her, as we've known each other for less than a week, and c) the things she brought up -- individuality, authenticity straight from the start, going to Refuge, trying and wanting to be held accountable for trying to pursue Christ -- are all things that I try to prioritize.

Being myself and accepting myself in all my quirkiness is something I have struggled with and tried to do in the past four years of high school, and I was afraid that when I moved I would lose that confidence and try to fit into the mold again. And seeking Christ and making Him a priority even in the chaos of this city and college life is, again, something I want to strive to do and something I want help with and want someone to hold me to.

I was afraid those were things I would lose sight of amongst the craziness of the past week, and if I didn't start off, I would forget through the year as well.

So it made me cry because, even if it's only been a week, I feel like my fears have been kind of put at rest, at least for the time being.

Not to mention, now that I know someone is aware of what I'm really like I can't suddenly... quit being that person, I guess.

I am this person.

I am Addison Herndon, a clumsy, awkward, obsessive girl with a passion for people and creativity and books. I have too much of a penchant for sweets and procrastination. I am a romantic through and through. I cry... a lot. I have a deep faith in Jesus and His salvation. And dare I say it, I have faith in my fellow humans.

I was this person in Kansas and I am this person in New York.

And for that, I am grateful. 

Four Years

Dear Class of 2016,

I don’t like change. I don’t like moving, or losing friends, or getting rid of my books. The fact that the 13th street Freddy’s rearranged itself kind of stresses me out. I don’t like thinking about all of us being spread out all over the place.

But at the same time, endings mean new beginnings. Out with the old, in with the new. Every time you finish a book you can start a new one. (That being said, I’m the kind of person who reads like four books at one time instead of waiting to finish them because I am impatient.) When people leave your life, there is space for others to come in. And it’s not the same, no. But different doesn’t mean bad.

I think our class knows that. “We’re not the same, we’re different in a good way,” to quote High School Musical. We don’t mind joking about the difference in our backgrounds and talents. That being said, it’s not like we were shoved into a box. We were encouraged -- usually by each other -- to refuse to “stick the status quo,” whether that be the Troy Boltons in Singin’ in the Rain or the fact that Will and Ethan played basketball freshman year or Elise in Pirates of Penzance, and all sorts of other overlappings in clubs and activities. We were allowed to try new things and meet other people who were different from us.

I’m so glad we’re different. I’m glad we have Keri, who’s funny and a great writer; Sarah, who’s organized and classy and optimistic; Emery, who’s good at soccer and makes us laugh in Stats; Kaleigh -- both Kaylees, Kris, Claire, Mitchell and Hannah and Lulu and Josh and Ashlyn and Tarrance and Lexi and Caleb and I can’t keep naming everyone, I don’t have time.

I remember listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack with Ellen in Mr. Grissom’s class freshmen year and wanting to be her friend -- funny how things work out. I remember sitting in the sound booth during Intro to Theater with Abby Grier and Will Morris. I remember the limo ride to freshman year homecoming with a super random group with our music blasting, shaking off our slightly nervous anticipation of our first high school dance. I remember jumping on the big, bouncy mattress that made up Antarctica at Homecoming, and giggling every time Jost or Mr. Brewer walked past, terrified that we would get in trouble. I remember Romeo and Juliet vividly, of course.  I remember… well, perhaps I shouldn’t confess to sleeping in Biology. I remember staying up late working on the Around the World Day skit in Julia’s front yard. Everyone said freshmen always get last, and we -- in a spirit of rebellion that stuck with us through the years -- obviously had to prove them wrong. We succeeded and didn’t get fourth place once that week, quite possibly out of pure determination.

Sophomore year rolled around with far more angst and homework. Mrs. B’s desserts and prayers got us through chemistry tests, Algebra II, and Red Badge of Courage. I think maybe six people in the whole class of 2016 actually read that book. Props to those six, because I didn’t make it. It was a rough year, academically, relationally, mentally. But we made it out, kids. We survived. And not everything was bad. I am so grateful for sixth hour apologetics, for curling up with blankets and talking about everything from boys to God to hell to homework to creation to dress code rules. I am so grateful for the chance to be open and real and to build relationships with that totally random but wonderful group of girls. It was relaxing and renewing and fabulous. I'm grateful for getting to live my childhood dream and dance in the "Marian the Librarian" number. (What can I say? It’s my two favorite things -- libraries and musicals.) Also, I’m told sports were really good that year. Congrats.

Junior year, for me at least, didn’t start out with much hope. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have come back if it hadn’t been for the Bible class sophomore year and the friends I’d made through it. But junior year surprised me, a lot. Philosophy was challenging and fascinating. Mr. Mueller obviously won us over without much struggle. Mr. Hendley’s enthusiasm about pre-calc was very nearly contagious -- don’t worry, I wasn’t infected. We had the first Poetry Slam, which was brilliant and full of talented poets. Pirates of Penzance was incredibly fun -- swooning over Will as the sisters, laughing offstage during the “Sighing Softly to the River” as the Pirates interpretively danced across the stage, learning four-part harmonies, and having that marvelous, wonderful cast. We downright killed Spirit Week that year, with Abby and Ethan singing “Don’t Stop Believin’” and our Finding Nemo skit and Holywood and Les Miserables. And then prom was the bomb.com. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that we were a lot more mature and confident and willing to have fun. And Grant Boesen was an amaaaazing DJ. A Little Knight Music was brilliant, with the Jared and Co. singing “Crocodile Rock” and Maddie and Ellen soloing in “Mama Who Bore Me.” Those were so good.

And then this year… Golly.

This year is over. This year, with the ridiculously long bus ride back from senior trip, with the utterly amazing Man of La Mancha, with our senioritis-filled AP Stats class. With questions and college applications and choices. We had cookie time, bonfires, Government and Music Theory -- well, I guess that last one only applies to three of us. The rest of you missed out. This year, with papers and theology and seeing the end of our time in uniforms and choir dresses and sports uniforms (jerseys? Guys, in four years you’d think I would have learned this stuff.)

This year, back where we began, with Mrs. Posson and Mr. Grissom. There’s something very poetic about that, about coming full circle.

I want to thank you, class of 2016.

Thanks for being there, together, through the good times and the bad.

Oh, we didn’t -- don’t -- always get along. No. But no one always gets along. I’m sure even Elise and Sarah must disagree sometimes.

But we did it. We made it through.

Thanks for growing up a little, and for letting me grow up with you.

Thanks for letting me go from the shy, annoyed, culture-shocked girl I was to the girl I am now.

Thanks for helping me be brave, whether that be by dancing (badly) at homecoming or trying a sport (also badly). Thanks for letting me come to your houses, for listening to me talk about books that you don’t care about, for helping me with homework, for making me laugh when I’m grumpy, for inspiring and challenging me. Thanks for being good at things that I’m not, for putting up with me when I’m being a know-it-all, for including me in everything from picnics to Ultimate Frisbee to movie nights to swimming. Thanks for the food, and laughter, and memories that last forever.

I'll miss so many little moments. Late night tea at Kris's house and talking about everything. Laying on Devin's trampoline with eight people and two blankets until three in the morning. Poetry nights. Third hour off and doing homework and lunch with my favorite people. Screaming when "Jenny" comes on at prom. Going to lunch with Julia, Kellie, Emery, and Kaylee. Praying with Abby before every show -- texting or calling each other when we're in different shows. Hanging out in the catwalk or sound booth with Hailey. Laughing at Maclaine's quick wit. Voice lessons with Mrs. Henderson. Dance parties in Newspaper. Cuddling in sixth hour apologetics. Falling out of Maddie's truck. Hearing Tarrance sing. Staying up late and talking with the M&M girls in our crazy hot cabin in Nicaragua. Bonding with David over The Name of the Wind. Quik Trip walks. Pranking Mrs. Posson. Hearing Mrs. Warren's stories at swim meets.

It's been four years of papers, of late nights, of math homework and Netflix and friendships and musicals and spirit weeks.

Four years of learning about myself and about other people.

I've loved the parties and the trips and classes (well, some of them).

But this group of people I have been privileged enough to call friends... They are what have made the tuition, the time, the tears worth it.

You’re a slightly rebellious, messy, random group of humans.

And I love you and am so thankful that this is the rebellious, messy, random group of humans I’ve spent the past four years with and now step into the future with.

Thanks for everything, fam.

Abundant Life

With our English Partners and the Vida Joven team

This post is extremely late getting up, so I apologize.

As you may or may not know, I recently(ish) went to Managua, Nicaragua on a mission trip with my Ministry and Missions class.

I'm trying to process the trip still. I'm really not sure where to start. There're so many aspects of it, and in hindsight it's all choppy and fragmented and I will leave things out, so I'm sorry.

It was beautiful
exhausting
refreshing
hilarious
draining
fulfilling
hot
fun
surprising
emotional
enlightening.

It so full of joy and wonderful people and good food and lessons learned and deep conversations and awkward moments.

No sleep. Hammocks. Swimming. Frisbee. Tight pants. Amazing people. Sweat. Dancing. Ridiculous skits. Best friends. Joy. Laughter. Jesus. Volcanoes. Lizards. Scorpions. Ella. Gilbert. Dito. Pratt. Eliezar.  Steysy. Ashley. Adda. Bonfires. Stargazing. Girl talks. Yelling until we lost our voices. Bus rides. "Self-discovery." Spanish. Taylor Swift. Folklore. Christ in Culture. Will's guitar. Relationships. Fruit. Plantains. Good, deep conversations.

One or two of the classes we worked with.

I just... I didn't expect it to be quite as fun as it was. It was so very uplifting and encouraging. I learned so, so much, and I was exhausted every night, but I was so refreshed, too.

I'm trying to put this all into words, so bear with me.

God taught me a lot about love and joy and about meeting people where they are. He taught me about finding rest and fulfillment in him. He taught me about healthy, true, positive relationships. He taught me that He is the same God working in a university in Managua as in Wichita as in Bangalore as in New York City and as large as the world is, He is infinitely bigger. It was such a good time to be reminded of that, at least for me. Everything changes in the next four, five, six months for most of us. Less time than that for Kaleigh and Pablo. But God doesn't change, whether we're in Asia or Hawaii or Chicago or Texas or New York or Kansas. And that's so very comforting.

We spent our days teaching, talking, being ridiculous, drawing people in, connecting students to Vida Joven. It doesn't sound like much, but coming up with conversation topics to last hours is super hard, not to mention tiring. Every day was a roller coaster of energy. It would be sky-high at one moment and crashing the next. Vida Joven itself is so high-energy and relational that there were moments when I, as an introvert, wanted to curl up by myself and sleep. But God gave us all energy every time we needed it.

It was like being on stage sometimes. Not that we were acting or performing (although sometimes we were), but in the sense that the actors feed off the audience's energy and vice versa. We fed off the Nicas enthusiasm and energy, and they did the same with us. It was a huge give and take.

And in the evenings, when most of us went and stargazed, there were times when I just sat on my bed/laid in my hammock to process/journal/pray/ just be alone.

There was one night where all eleven of us were in hammocks just chilling/journaling/listening to music. We weren't really talking to each other, there were soft murmured conversations and "Can you pass me that pen?" and such, but it was mostly just Matt Corby or Ben Howard or hymns and us each with our thoughts. Stargazing nights were good too. We'd lay out blankets and towels and sprawl out after swimming and dinner, a tangle of wet hair and dirty feet. We talked about the past, the present, the future. We were serious. We were silly. There were so many little moments of bonding.

But our days were so much better. Nicaragua, like most hot-climate cultures, is very, very relational. We could meet people and be best friends with them twenty minutes later. It was crazy. Everyone was full of boundless energy, whether it was midnight and they were greeting us at the airport or nine a.m. when we were in class.

The classes were really fun. We acted out the Wizard of Oz, line danced, had an Easter Egg hunt, listened to one of the most talented violinists I've ever heard, created dozens of skits, talked about ourselves, about the States, about God, about the Nicas.

This was right before an Easter Egg hunt

On Friday, the Vida Joven team came to the camp where were staying to hang out with us -- swim, hammock, eat dinner, pray, etc. -- and on the bus, I got to hang out with several of them. We bonded over music, my limited Spanish, magic tricks, and trying to draw on David's face as he slept. There were all sorts of times like that. I got to hear "Sorry" by Justin Bieber in Spanish because I heard it playing from another building and started dancing. (Guys, Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift are international. And One Direction.) Another time, I said my dog's name was Oakley and one of the guys asked if it was after Tyler Oakley. And then after that we were friends.

In one of the very first classes we were in, we acted out The Wizard of Oz. This was tricky, as few -- if any -- of the Nicas had seen it. Despite this, one of the girls in my group did a perfect Wicked Witch impression, just from my vague description. It was amazing.

Dancing. Makes. Friends. We showed them swing dancing, they showed us Nicaraguan folklore dances, and we all line danced and shimmied and nae-nae-d (is that even a word?) together. It was so cool. So stinking cool.

Don't doubt the power of weird questions or wearing wigs or breaking tables.

I think part of what I loved about the trip was how natural it felt. It never felt forced. We just naturally became friends and naturally talked about God and naturally cried when we left. I think that has a lot, a lot to do with Nicaraguan culture, but I also think we got a little at living life on mission on the trip. I also loved that even when we were just discussing Guardians of the Galaxy or the Intern, we still had a purpose. Everything felt intentional, while still natural. I don't know if I'm describing this well, but I'm sure it was because of the Vida Joven team's planning. Something else that was really well done, in my humble opinion, was the fact that we connected people to the team who is permanently in Managua, at UCA. Many of them went to Vida Joven club after we left. They sent us a video. I can't tell you how excited we were to see them and pick out faces we knew.

The people we met... I hope we blessed them a fraction of how much as they blessed us. Ella, Eliezar, Steysy, Pratt, and Gilbert were our main group. They were with us basically 24/7 and they taught us soooo much. Ella was a huge encouragement to us girls, as a young, single, white girl in a foreign country alone. Steysy was overwhelming kind and patient with us, and I am so grateful to her. All the Vida Joven people were so cool and kind and helpful. And our English partners were amazing and I could talk for hours about each person, but I won't.

"White shadow!" we stage-whispered

We got to explore a lot of the city of Managua -- the hill, the lakeshore, the cathedrals. We also went to a market in Masaya, stayed at a pineapple farm, and swam in a volcanic crater. I really appreciated all the different aspects of Nicaragua we got to see, even though we were only there for a week. The area around the cathedrals had vendors selling ice cream on the street, and kids running after us asking for money. In stark contrast, the volcano beach was the most touristy place we went. There were a couple of other groups of Americans there, and every time they talked we got super confused. We were so used to knowing everyone with an American accent that it seriously threw us off.

I'm sorry, I still feel like I'm not doing the trip and the people justice, but this is the best I can express it. And sorry, it's like a month late. Oops.

This is Alex. He had us sign his shirt after we painted tables before we said good-bye on Saturday. 

Kaleigh and her English partners, Angie, Fabiola, and Cassandra

Will and William the violinist

Jenifers, Sarah, and Fernanda

Andres, T-Pa, and Devin

Bielka, Lauren, Marvin, and Allison

John, Carlos, Andres, David, Nefi, Marcos, and Alvaro

Cinthia, Julia, Scarleth, and Sahara

Team Mangos! Me, David, Elise, Pratt in the background on the phone, and the one and only Gilbert!

Gabriella with Maria Alejandra, Elise, Arianne, and Maria Gabriella

Devin and Marcos

****All photo credit to Paul, aka my hero. Seriously, knowing that someone else is photographing every second of the trip -- and photographing it well -- is so freeing. Thank you, Paul!! You're the best****

You Can Take This as "Addi's Moving to New York!"

Next fall, I will be attending the King's College in New York City.

(Random fun fact: I am unable to hear/see the words "New York City" without then thinking, "Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" Perhaps I should have a post about Hamilton in the future. Hmm...)

I'm a little scared, I'm not gonna lie. I'm scared to be that far away. I'm sad that it mean that I'll probably miss a lot of my siblings' shows or games or birthdays. I'm scared that I'll lose some of the friendships I have here. (And I know I'll lose a couple... but still. I hate the idea.) I'm scared about silly things like having to remember my phone number without Holly's help or remembering directions or not being able to ask Mom to double check my papers (actually, I'll probably still email her my papers). I'm scared that I'll get lost in the bigness of the city and the people. Not physically lost, but more like... forgotten, almost? I'm not sure how to describe this. I'm not sure if I even really know what I'm saying. Maybe we'll come back to it if I figure it out.

But I'm also so very excited.

I think I will be challenged at King's, and I want that. I'm ready for something that will be hard in a good way. Not in a "This is impossible and ridiculous and pointless" way, but a "this is new and hard and good and will make me a better person/student/writer/etc" way. Does that make sense?

I'm excited for the opportunities that come with King's and New York City. Whether that be seeing shows on Broadway -- which will be rare because I'm going to be sooo broke -- or joining a new club -- they have a swing dancing club, which sounds awesome, despite my lack of skill -- or internships at publishing houses, or studying abroad -- you can go to Oxford, for one. Yes, please.

I'm excited to live in New York City. I'm excited to live in the center of culture. I'm excited to have a tiny apartment and have to figure out how to decorate it. I'm excited to hunt down record stores and vintage boutiques in a new city. I'm excited for the independence that comes with moving away (which also kind of scares me, but it's fine).

I'm excited to meet new people. Like, do you ever think about how many people there are in the world? And that they all have different stories and interests and backgrounds and the idea of meeting more people just makes me really happy and also kind of fills me with social anxiety but you know, it's fine.

I'm excited to be a part of the House of Clara Barton (who won the House Cup this year, so that's a pretty good sign). I'm really glad the House System exists. I'm glad to know that there's a group of people who will have my back and be there for me, especially at first. Six or seven of the girls already followed me on Instagram and it made me feel really welcomed and happy.

I'm excited to see how God will use me in the next year/next four years/rest of my life.

I'm just excited to see what happens next.

Heck, I'm even excited for the business casual dress code, because I'm gonna wear vintage dresses all the time. (I actually am very interested to see how people make business-casual their own. Like, how do I combine business casual and indie grunge and vintage class? Is that even possible? I'm so excited it's ridiculous.)

I think it'll be worth it. Worth the fear and sacrifice. I know God has a plan, even if my plan only goes as far as moving day. It'll be good.

Anyway, now you all know.

Dear Fifteen-Year-Old Me,

Oh goodness. Freshman me. Just as awkward, far more innocent, so much more judgemental and insecure. Sweet, shy, ridiculous freshman me. Here are some things you should know:

-- Learn to love the States. I know you struggle with fitting in right now, and you struggle with anger towards most of the people in this country, but they know not what they do. They don't know about the people living under the caste system. They haven't experienced the crowds of Commercial Street or the monsoon season or pain of leaving your friends in a different country. They have not met the girls orphaned or abandoned in villages. They haven't sat through traffic for two hours in order to get to youth group. They will want a 30-second description of two years of your life, and you will want to hate them for that. I promise, I promise you it gets better. Remember: But for the grace of God, you could be where they are. The problems and blessings in the States will take a lot of re-learning, but they are there. Every country is flawed, every people group is flawed, and yet there is still beauty in all of them. It will take a while to feel like you belong here, and for that I am sorry.

-- Make good girl friends. And good guy friends. Just make friends. Be kind and don't prejudge people. The kids who annoyed you to no end sophomore might be your good friends senior year. Let them grow up. Heck, let yourself grow up.

-- Accept that no one is perfect. Not you, not your friends, not your teachers, not your parents. Everyone messes up, so give grace.

-- Don't just complain about things you dislike. Work on changing it if you can, and if you can't change it then suck it up and move on.

-- Sophomore year will be basically awful, but focus on the good things. Mrs. B, your new friends, dancing in the "Marian Librarian" scene, Jahn, The Name of the Wind, Newspaper, Concert Choir... It's not all bad. You'll grow and learn a lot this year, in spite of -- or really because of  -- the fact that it's mostly horrible.

-- Try new things. Do a sport. Try art. Let yourself be bad at things for the sake of learning. You might find out you love (and kind of hate) swimming or something.

-- Be silly and goofy. Don't worry about what people think. You'll be far happier if you just do what you want. Laugh at your mistakes and awkward moments. Store up embarrassing stories, because they make great ice breakers. Just accept that you are an awkward, clumsy human who can't do phone calls properly and spills everything and is just generally awkward.

-- Within the confines of the law and your parents' wishes, do crazy, stupid things. Be careful, but don't be fearful.

-- Don't get wrapped up in your friends' boy drama. Just don't. Be there for them, absolutely. But don't get sucked into the cycle of love and heartbreak.

-- Don't get wrapped up in your own boy drama. I don't mean "Swear off boys/dating completely." I mean, don't let youself become consumed by a boy at this point. Be wise. Pray through everything. Be cautious with whom you allow your heart. Some guys suck, and others just aren't right for you. It's okay to make mistakes, it's okay to try, it's okay for your heart to leap and for you to giggle with happiness after your first kiss or to cry after a breakup. But know who you are in Christ and know that no boy is perfect. None can "complete" you. Only Jesus can.

-- It's okay to let your friendships change over the years. It's okay to let go of people who aren't healthy for you to be around. Surround yourself with people who bring you joy and help you become a better person.

-- Embrace the geek within you. Own the fact that you play DragonVale and ship Dramione and listen to musicals about American history and read more than you work out and can quote Doctor Who and love Benedict Cumberbatch. Geek will be cool in a couple years. Or at least cooler. Well. At least not weird.

-- Your relationships are more important than your grades. Sometimes you need to get out and chill in Kris's basement or Ellen's backyard and just talk about stuff instead of doing a Government study guide. That being said, don't just blow off your grades completely. Turn off Netflix and do your math homework. Seriously.

-- Get Spotify asap. You will love it. Listen to all sorts of music and become somewhat familar with popular songs/dances. Dance parties are bonding experiences, and a decent Charleston can get you far in life.

-- Be grateful for the opportunities you get. Because you will have some fabulous opportunities. You will meet amazing people and be a part of amazing things and go amazing places. So take a moment and be thankful for them.

-- Get off your phone/computer/etc. sometimes. It's good for your soul.

-- Make your relationship with God a priority. Be a person after God's heart. "Improve your serve." This one actually takes you a long time to learn, but work at it. Love God, love people. Sounds simple, until you have to do Chemistry homework and memorize the presidents and make notecards for a research paper and work on musical stuff. Those things will alllll fade away, Addi. Christ and people will not.

-- Don't overcommit. Say no sometimes. It's good for you. It's hard, but it's good.

-- It's okay to cry during all movies ever. And all books. Which is good, because you do. Just go with it. If you're lucky, as cute boy will take pity on you and let you cry into his shoulder. (Just kidding. That never happens. You just cry alone over Harry Potter and eat ice cream.)

-- Do not place your value in your grades, your popularity, your talents, your looks, your likes on social media, your "spiritual-ness," or basically anything outside of the fact of knowing that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Don't fall into a comparison trap. Place your self-esteem in the fact that you are God's child and He has created you. Other's opinions of you -- and even your opinions of yourself -- will change, but God's love will not. I cannot even explain to you how important this is.

-- Don't ask boys what they're laughing about, especially if/when you're good enough friends that they'll actually tell you. You don't want to know. Trust me. 

The Big City

Over the course of this semester, I've gotten to go to Chicago and New York City on college visits.

I thought I would like Chicago far more than New York City, going just from their reputations.

I was wrong.

I really like NYC. It's not nearly as scary or crazy as people make it sound. Now, to be fair, I spent most of my time in the Financial District, which is mostly just business people. We did go to Broadway and Times Square and Grand Central Station. There was not a single time there when I felt unsafe or out of my element. Sure, there's a lot of people, and yeah there's not much green, but it didn't seem like this big, cruel machine. Everyone we encountered was nice. That being said, New York isn't a place where people are going to strike a conversation with you in the elevator or on the subway. But I don't think that's really normal anywhere (well, maybe the South? I don't know).

New York is more European than anywhere else I've been in America. I think maybe my time in London, Paris, and Rome prepared for that. Also, there were several times that reminded me of Bangalore. Other parents visiting would be marveling at the crowds or the traffic or the dirt, and Mom and I were just like, "I didn't think it was bad at all."

This post is actually sounding more pretentious/stuck-up by the second. I don't mean to be like, "Oh, you just think New York is crazy and scary because you've never been out of the Midwest." I would probably be overwhelmed too had it not been for living in India. As it was, I felt quite at home.

I've been wondering, for a while now, if that time in India was preparing me for something else. Now I'm wondering if this school and this city is that "something else." I don't know. It's too soon to tell. But the school I visited -- the King's College -- was amazing. I fell in love with it. I like it so much more than either of the other schools I'm considering, which surprised me. I didn't expect myself to adore this tiny little private school in the heart of Manhattan. I didn't expect to want to live in a skyscraper and have to probably work at least two jobs and wear business casual every day and have to make my own food and live that far away from home.

But I do. A lot. It scares me more than any of the other schools, but I think it's a good kind of fear. It's going to be a challenge, and I want a challenge.

That all being said, nothing is decided. Lots could change in the next six months -- heck, a lot could change in the next six weeks. So don't take this as an "Addi's moving to New York!" post. No. I'm just saying that as of right now, I would very much like to go to New York.

So that's the current status of my college search. 

Impostor Syndrome and Other Fears

Okay so the following post is from January 24, when I was in my car without internet. And there's like, an update/followup thing at the end.

**********************************************************************
Impostor Syndrome.

So I’m currently on my way to a scholarship competition and the past week or so, this has all been bouncing around in my head.

Do you ever feel like at some point everyone is going to realize that you’re not actually a deep thinker, or a leader, or a great Christian, or a good singer or writer or whatever?

That fear hit me really, really hard this week as I was preparing for auditions and interviews and everything.

That’s not to say that I have lied and said that I am any of these things. People have told me I am for years now, and maybe it’s just deep-rooted insecurity that made “impostor syndrome” crop up right now.

Because… I thought I was all of those things, until fairly recently, and now… I’m scared that I’m not? That all of the things that people associate with me, that I associate with me… that I’m not actually those things. And now I’m scared that if I can discover that, maybe everyone else will.

And that’s scary as heck.

(I realize I have said “that” about twelve billion times in this post. So sorry.)

To be honest, I am not scared of very much. Rollercoasters. Disappointing my parents. Gas stations after dark. Not being used for the Kingdom of God. Being trapped. Not being worthy.

Which is stupid, because no one is “worthy.” That’s the point of grace.

And I know that I myself can’t do anything on my own and that it’s really all God and that my identity shouldn’t be found in my talents or lack thereof and absolutely should not be found in people’s perception of me but…

I’m still scared.

Maybe it’s that fact that I have tried, really hard to be comfortable as who I am and be genuine and honest (although sometimes I’m really not) and so the idea that people would think that I’ve been faking everything scares me…

I really can’t put my finger on it.

There’s just a lot of pent-up anxiety and insecurity, okay.

And it all decided that right now would be the best time to show up.

Uggggh.

**********************************************************************

So, that scholarship thing went pretty well. But more importantly, I kind of learned, over that weekend, that 

1. God knows what's up and you can trust Him. 

2. My value is not my abilities or lack thereof. 

I was actually standing in the bathroom before my audition, staring at myself in the mirror and praying that over and over. 

"Remind me where my value lies... Help me use my talents for Your glory alone." 

Just those two ideas in different wordings, the whole time of that weekend. 

And it was great. It helped, a lot. The next scholarship thing came around, and I didn't get nearly as nervous or stressed. 

Well. I didn't get nervous or stressed about the same things. 

And that's something I really want to work on this year. I struggle with pride sooo much, and I want this year to strip me of my ego. I don't want to have to randomly switch between super arrogant and super terrified, which is pretty much what I currently do. (I sincerely hope that that's all in my head and doesn't spill out into how I act around other people. Because ugh that's annoying.)

So I guess this year, one of my goals/prayers is that I am able to direct my confidence and security and value in the right place (that is, God) and not in myself and my abilities/possessions/gifts.

Now that's a rather scary prayer. 

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

I am of the firm opinion that Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is the best TV show available. There are looots of reasons why, but here are some that Sophie and I came up with.

- Epic, three-dimensional female characters. Skye. Bobbi. May. Simmons. Reyna. I love the depth of each and every woman on this show. I never feel like the girls are weak or unrealistic or forced. They're all flawed, and unique, and fun, and interesting, and likable. Even Reyna.
- The cast. First of all, they're all perfect for their roles. Second of all, they're great (I mean, as far as I know) in real life. If you want proof, please look up the Agent Carter vs. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. dubsmash battle. It is glorious. (Speaking of Agent Carter, holy smokes is that show stunning. Please watch that as well.)

Simmons and I have the same feelings about Peggy Carter.

- Wit. This show is so clever and funny. Plus I always appreciate the Harry Potter and Doctor Who references. 

- Beautiful combat scenes. So. Good. 

- Humor. This goes back to wit, but seriously this show is hilarious.

This was classic.

- Amazing writing. Such good plots. And wonderful dialogue. 

- Superpowers. I'm a sucker for superheroes. 

- Drama. This too.
- Attractive men by the dozen. Goodness me. Ward. Lincoln. Tripp. Mack. Hunter. Seriously, where do they find these men. That being said, I also completely appreciate their characters and personalities. Hunter is so funny, Mack is wise, Fitz is basically perfection, Coulson is human, Ward is... Well. Ward is something else. I really don't think there's a character on this show I truly dislike. Whitehall. Whitehall is horrible.

Seriously. That jawline. 

- Romantic subplots that are stunning but not overpowering. One word: FitzSimmons.
- Plots that remain engaging, surprising, and epic after three years. I have watched this show for almost three years and I still love it. I haven't gotten sick of it, which does happen with some shows sometime in the third or fourth season. The plots always feel new and fresh, but they make sense (well, within the universe of the show). I can distinctly remember episodes that shocked me to my core and kept me up thinking about them and made me scream because WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT COMING.

- Cool tech.

- FitzSimmons. Fitz and Simmons. Simmons and Fitz. FiTzSiMmOnS.

- Real-life application: 

           -- the very best people are flawed and make mistakes (Coulson, May, pretty much every character on the show)

           -- just because someone is on the "wrong" side doesn't mean they're evil

           -- tragedy doesn't justify brutality

           -- the entire Inhuman arc speaks for itself

- The dynamics between characters.

- So much depth. Backstories, overarching plots, subtle actions and dialogue that aren't important for a year or more. I love shows that do that. Love. It.

- Moral complexity. Seriously, I love shows/books/etc. that deal with war and humanity and what is right and wrong. Complex situations that force you to think fascinate me.
- It is, at its core, a spy show. And who doesn't love a spy show?

- The character development. The difference between characters in season one and season three is mind-blowing and it's beautiful. 

- How it goes with the MCU. References to Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff? Plots that match up to the events of CATWS? Lady Sif showing up? Yes, please.

So basically, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is one of the most underrated shows ever. It's completely amazing and you should go watch it. You will be a better person for it. That's a scientific fact, I'm sure.