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.

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. 

The Force Awakens Review -- Guest Post

Let me introduce Kristopher Swanson, one of my dearest and geekiest friends. Kris loves Star Wars more than anyone I know, and when he sent me this after I saw The Force Awakens, I knew I had to post it. It should be noted that the rest of this post is absolutely overrun with spoilers and theories, so if you haven't yet seen the Force Awakens, you should probably close this. Now.
Without farther ado, I hand it over to Kris.
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STAR WARS Episode VII - The Force Awakens
Post-Premiere Thoughts

Okay, let’s be honest. I don’t think that I’m the only fan whose reaction to Disney buying Star Wars and announcing the making of Episode VII was disappointed at best. I also don’t think that I’m the only fan who has been at least slightly annoyed with all these new Star Wars “fans” that just popped up out of hyperspace. Apparently it’s okay to call yourself a fan right before the movie comes out an think you’re cool by going to the premiere. Excuse me “fan,” how many times have you seen each of the Star Wars movies? Have you dueled with plastic lightsabers before or undergone Jedi reflex training using Nerf guns? Have you ever erected a homemade fort and watched Star Wars episodes countless times on a six-inch VHS TV? I’m sorry reader; I’ll stop ranting now.  Star Wars is a lifestyle, an integral part of my childhood, life today, and my heart. So when Disney announced this, of course I denounced the notion, saying things like, “They are going to ruin Star Wars!” “I am never going to see it!” and “Does this make Leia a Disney Princess?” I was so disturbed by this that I discredited the movie altogether. It was only until everything started becoming so real that I started to open my heart to this concept; the original actors all started to announce their return, trailers were made, and behind the scenes footage leaked. I finally started to let these things stir in the jawa juice of my heart, and then, the premiere happened…

Before I begin, let me get this straight. No movies will ever surpass the original Star Wars sequels in the cellblock of my heart. Star Wars (or Episode IV "A New Hope") will always be the movie at the top of my list, regardless of any other productions, even another Star Wars movie. This is closely followed by Episode V “The Empire Strikes Back” and then of course Episode VI “The Return of the Jedi.” No movie will ever trump one belonging to the original trilogy for me, and that is just how it is. So, if you’re getting any crazy ideas, no, this is not my favorite movie, and no, this is not my favorite Star Wars movie. Period. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for…

That all being said, I was absolutely blown away by Episode VII “The Force Awakens.” Yes, the standing in line for hours upon end with hordes of other nerds in costume probably helped. Yes, it being my first IMAX movie also probably helped. But seriously, I am very impressed with Episode VII. I cannot imagine the weight J. J. Abrams had on his shoulders in directing this film. Nothing much, just around 4.4 billion dollars and the hopes and dreams of millions of fans. I am here to tell you that I am thoroughly impressed with what Abrams has done. Props to you J.J. You have done the unthinkable and followed up the prequels to the greatest movies on planet earth.

First, Episode VII “The Force Awakens” felt like Star Wars. Well thanks, Captain Obvious (or Captain Phasma in this case). But, yes, I do mean what I just said. Star Wars has a certain feel. The way the action and the effects and the music and the plot twists and everything draws you in and suspends you in a state of galactic gaping is real. This movie had it. These very things are what make Star Wars Star Wars. The combination of camera pans, jokes, duels, space battles, snarky comments, cantina scenes, and everything in between bring the movie to life. The banner at the beginning almost pixilated and low quality? Completely intentional. Bless you J.J. The original Star Wars was revolutionary. The only film of its kind. This it still is and will always be. I’m going to try and systematically arrange all these, but it is 3:00 in the morning, so we’ll see how that goes.

Second, the parallelism between the original Star Wars and VII was ingenious. I am still in awe. References filled the movie! The trash compactor and 12 parsecs! Then the Death Star and planet comparisons, small jet fighters and their miraculous victory, the trenches of the planet in the space battle, the holographic chess board, Luke’s training droid, the come-from-nothing home on desert planet with Rey’s background. When this comes out on DVD I am seriously going to buy it and make a list of parallel situations and references. These were just some of the few I caught.

Third, the action was impeccable. This is the year 2015, and graphics are great. So, this is sort of a given, but Abrams made a point to keep things classic. The space battles and low-flying action made my blood roar like a Rancor. And the lightsaber duel between Kylo and Rey was stunning. The intensity was to the next level.

Fourth, the music was sensational. John Williams cannot stop writing perfect music, and his tunes did it yet again. I can’t really say much for this topic, because a lot of my appreciation will come with listening to the soundtrack all by itself. This is absolutely necessary for, when in the midst of the movie, you are drawn in by the culmination of every masterpiece, music or non. It was Star Wars music. Blended with effects to achieve the perfect soundtrack.

Fifth, and a huge one on my list, the casting was sensational! Not only were the classic characters appropriately incorporated but also the nobodies, the new rising stars, were perfectly blended for a mixture of young and old blood. Each original actor was not simply thrown in for good measure, but they were all intricately woven into the plot. And then, where to begin with the new characters, but it has to be Kylo Ren. In all honesty, I was more than suspicious about the casting of Adam Driver. Pictures of him in Star Wars apparel juxtaposed with his typical comedy movie aura was not doing it for me. And then, the movie happened…Holy Chewbacca! He killed it! Literally. Hands down my favorite character in the movie. The complexity of his character always kept me on edge. I love complex characters! His voice with and without the mask was perfect; you could hear hints of masked Kylo in his plain speech, and this voice is iconic to the movie. His obsession with Darth Vader is also another aspect I am excited to see continued in the next few. I could see the fire in his eyes, and his anger management and destructive tendencies delivered the Sith I had been waiting to see. Sith thrive off anger and hatred, and his character unleashed that. Not to mention, his lightsaber and mask are pretty dang cool. I am ecstatic to see where his tale goes from here, and I cannot wait to continue to view the path of his villainy and darkness! Rey and Finn were also sensational, and their bond seemed to spill off the screen. And shout out to BB-8, who I dismissed as some random soccer ball droid. Wow. Boy was I ever wrong. Droid personalities. Bless you again J.J.

Sixth, the humor was up a notch. I found myself laughing countless times. BB-8’s thumbs up was pretty memorable, and who can’t love Han’s sass and constant comments?

Seventh, I was super nervous about the script writing crew having to throw in cuss words just because it is the year 2015. This is such garbage. Throw that idea down in the trash compactor too! Star Wars has never been like that, and I was really nervous that this would happen. They simply don’t fit, so I was very much impressed by what was used. I was only able to pick out the use of “damn” once and “hell” twice, and by gosh, that sure is good for 2015. Why has it come to this? Star Wars got it right. No one needs cussing in order to make a funny movie.

Eighth, the plot twists were on point. My suspicions did correctly confirm Kylo Ren to be Han and Leia’s son, but that was pretty much all I figured out. I think everyone thought Finn would be the next Jedi. Wrong. I think everyone thought Poe was dead. Wrong. I think everyone thought Rey was a nobody. Wrong.  And, it pains me to mention this, cutting to the deepest recesses of my heart, but Han…Han…Han Solo…He’s…Dead…D-D-Dead…WHAT? Talk about getting your audience’s attention! Everyone’s favorite space cowboy and beloved character was just betrayed by his own son, Kylo Ren, after the most dramatic of words and watering eyes, and slaughtered on a shining bridge over a span of nothingness, only to fall into the darkness of death. R.I.P. J.J, can I cry on your shoulder until the next Clone Wars? AH! At least the death was meaningful and about the best way I can imagine Han dying: Sacrifice of self (considering his earlier movie motives were highly focused on self). Still haven’t recovered. Never will.

Ninth, the stormtroopers were great. I think they actually might have shot something, or was that just my imagination? The new look works really well, and I am still trying to process the weaponry.

Tenth, VII ended leaving me captivated for the next one. There are so many unsolved mysteries, and I love how Abrams leaves many things to the imagination of the viewer. Of course, everyone is wondering about the mysterious Supreme Leader, and it seems that the idea of the “Eternal Emperor” is the best solution I have (thanks Jacob!). Star Wars is dualism at its core, so one side will never completely destroy the other. Good and evil, the Jedi and the Sith, they will most likely be duking it out until the end. The Emperor is essentially an essence, and he uses bodies as vessels. His life comes by draining life from the universe around him. The strangely distorted character was a hologram, so his large size is probably not a thing. Also, I propose that he looks this way because right now he has a broken body. A lot of his strength was captured when he was betrayed by Vader in Episode VI. Anyway, I know this is speculation, but it completely makes sense in the context of the movie, and it is a super cool idea. He thrives off sucking life out of people and places, misleads people, uses people, searches for a powerful vessel, and tries to regain control. In addition, can I make a crazy prediction and say that Rey is Han and Leia’s daughter? This makes her and Kylo Ren brother and sister and adds even more meaning a whole new element to the snow woods duel! And what would follow? Another meeting, duel, and attempt by Rey to bring back Kylo? The possibilities are endless. Bless you a third time J.J. Did I forget to say that after every one? Good.

Anyhow, VII captivated me beyond measure, and I was enlightsaberened in the same way that I have been with all the others. Though it will never be held to the same standard of nostalgic euphoria as the original Star Wars (Episode IV), it will always hold a special place in my heart along with all the other Star Wars movies, those which cannot be displaced. The best of the best. The greatest in the galaxy. I think I better go to bed. It is 4:11 and I am in this dream-like trance of Star Wars high yet extremely exhausted. This should be fun to read in the morning… I have a bad feeling about this…
May The Force Be With You, Always.

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There you have it. I agree with Kris on almost everything (I don't think Rey is Han and Leia's daughter, though I am inclined to believe she is related to them. I think she's Luke's daughter.) I though he covered everything wonderful about the movie quite well, and I'm very grateful he let me post this. :)

My Heart Is Breaking

Oh God.

Terrible, horrible things have happened today.

Paris. Lebanon. Baghdad.

I'm currently sitting in a hotel closet in order to not wake up Holly and Kensi and I'm just crying and typing.

And praying.

Assuming my math is right and the news is correct -- and I pray that this number is too high -- two hundred and fifteen people were murdered tonight, between Paris, Lebanon, and Baghdad.

Two hundred and fifteen.

I'm not naive. Well, okay, maybe a little. I am, however, an optimist of the highest degree.

But this? This is... Horrific. Appalling. Sickening, disgusting, tragic.

I'm full of all this rage and fear and grief and.... And I don't know what to do.

Why must it be like this? Why can't people be nice and love each other and realize how beautiful other people can be?

This breaks my optimistic heart. This makes me question hope and sunshine and the fact that people can be good and kind and loving and heroic. This is ugly and shitty and dark and it makes me so, so, sad and helpless and furious and guilty about things like sitting in a closet doing nothing when people have just lost friends and family members and lovers and...

Sometimes this world absolutely sucks.

And I hate that.

I'm just praying that good will come out of this, I guess. That the people in Paris and Lebanon and Baghdad will find love and comfort and help and support. I pray that somehow the death count is far higher than it should be. I pray that no one is left to deal with this alone.

I pray that someone will remember to turn on a light.

Because it has been a very, very dark day.

September First

Oh.

It's James Sirius Potter's first time going to Hogwarts today. 

And Teddy Remus Lupin's last. 

And I'm very emotional about it?

It makes me feel very old. I only read the books... five years ago, maybe six, but they mean so much to me and there's so much beauty in them, and in the fandom and I just can't deal and on days like this it hits you with the fact that this story that means so much and feels so important isn't even real and it's just.... It's weird. 

On one hand, the power of the language, my friends. Can we talk about how amazing it is that we live in a world where symbols can be rearranged into words and sentences and paragraphs and make up beautiful, wonderful stories that can reach millions and millions of people all over the world?

And, going slightly more abstract, the fact that this story started with just one woman's idea? And then it spread and it caught on and then people could share this story and could see in their heads the way she saw it and then other people picked it up and transferred it from words on paper into a movie? And actors portrayed these characters, portrayed them so well that sometimes it's hard to differentiate between the two? 

And then there's all the fans, who make fanart (art pictured here is courtesy of Viria) and fanfiction and fanmusicals and start things like the Harry Potter Alliance, and it just blows my mind how one little story about a boy can literally change the world. 

This is why I love reading and writing and stories. 

And I'm just really emotional right now so excuse me while I go listen to the Harry Potter soundtrack and read Harry Potter and wear my Harry Potter t-shirt and drink butterbeer and pl an a Harry Potter movie marathon and rewatch A Very Potter Musical, A Very Potter Sequel, and A Very Potter Senior Year and look at Harry Potter fanart and join the Harry Potter Alliance because I adore this story and I adore how much good has come from this story. 

Fernweh: (n) the ache for distant places, the craving to travel; wanderlust

This year has been marked by contentedness. Staying here, keeping busy, even the struggle of pre-calc, it has all had a measure of content simplicity. This is where I am now, and I want to be all here.

But... Summer has brought back that old restlessness. I'm listless, itching to go places and meet people and taste new foods and hear different languages and see new sights. 

I'm ready to go. 

It's made me think about college again.

I've pretty much always said that I wanted to get away for college, but this year my friends and my city felt so... home-y, I guess. I started thinking that maybe I'd just stay here. Go to WSU. Work at the library. Move in with Maddie. 

Now I'm realizing why I don't want to do that. 

My soul yearns for something... else. 

I've been thinking a lot about Paper Towns by John Green and Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. Two very, very different books, but they have similar themes. Both are about leaving in order to find... more.

For those of you unfamiliar with the books, Paper Towns is about a boy named Quentin. Q has a plan for his life. He wants the stereotypical American dream. He'll graduate, go to a good college, get a good job, have a family and house with a white picket fence. One night, Margo Roth Spiegelman -- his adventurous, slightly crazy, super attractive neighbor -- brings him along for a madcap night of revenge.

Q has the best night of his life and is sure that afterwards the two will be best friends (at the very least). But the next day, Margo is gone. Q and his friends search for Margo, eventually going on a cross-country road trip, looking for a girl who doesn't want to be found and a town that doesn't exist.

Into the Wild is the non-fiction account of Chris McCandless, who leaves everything in order to live on the road. He cuts off all communication with his family, ditches his car, burns his money, and vanishes. He ends up in an abandoned bus in Alaska, alone, and dies there. Krakauer explores the whys behind McCandless: why he didn't tell anyone, why he left, why he died. It's engrossing and fascinating, and, strangely, very relatable.

Into the Wild seems like a book that Margo Roth Spiegelman would read. I feel like she would be so inspired by McCandless, by his courage, his idealism, his sense of morality. McCandless always does what he thinks is right, no matter the risk to his well-being. He didn't ever consider death. He was a mover, a doer, a man who wanted to live. 

McCandless and Margo both just vanish, searching for something. Both have strained relationships with their parents. Both are sick of the fake lives they lead, and so they... leave them. They are so similar, and it's kind of weird. They're also both super controversial. People either love or hate Margo (personally I like her) and the same for McCandless. A looot of people think he was an idiot for tramping out into unknown Alaska by himself. 

Now, my relationships are in pretty good shape, and I don't feel like I'm living a fake life. But leaving sounds so good some days. Just abandoning my responsibilities and my possessions and the expectations for me and the thousands of daily distractions. It's just... such an interesting thought. Just leaving. Erasing my existence.

I couldn't do it. Not now. Probably not ever

Maybe someday I'll go. Leave everything. Write a note to my parents, give them an address. Try not to let them worry. Not for very long. A month maybe.

For now, I am here. I will content myself with watching travel vlogs and pinning travel hacks and reading books about people who left.  That's all I can do for now. The world calls, but I cannot answer yet. 

Thoughts on the Library and Into the Wild

It is 1:08 am on Wednesday night and I'm still not asleep.

Nor am I cramming for finals or writing papers.

I love summer.

So far, summer has been rainy, quiet. I've read, swam, listened to Father John Misty and Tame Impala. I bought overalls and got in a wreck (but I'm fine and the other person is fine and the car will be fine). I've looked for jobs and eaten chocolate and had a picnic and stayed up late.

I worked at the library for four hours today (well. volunteered). I like working there. I think I would rather work at the library than a bookstore, unless it's a bookstore like Eighth Day Books or some other local/small bookstore. Chain bookstores just don't have the same... vibe. I mean, I love them. I take full advantage of Barnes and Noble. They have new books sooner than the library, their vinyl collection grows by the day, and obviously Starbucks is a perk.

But the library has a different aura to it. It's more personable. Maybe I only see it at the library because I work there, but the library is always bustling. Kids are looking for school books, adults are using the internet, teens are writing papers. It's so relaxed, but also always moving, always changing.

One of my favorite things ever is seeing what people read. It's fun seeing what books people put on hold and trying to figure out their personality. Today someone got an alt-J CD and We Were Liars (by E. Lockhart. AMAZING book) and I totally wanted to be friends with them. (Actually, that person came and picked them up and it was my small group leader from sophomore year. How crazy is that?)

Sometimes people ask me where books are or kids ask for recommendations, and it's pretty much the best thing ever. People asking you, genuinely asking you, about stuff you're passionate about is really cool. And sometimes there's really good parents who bring their kids to the library and play with them in the Children's Area and have imaginary tea parties. One time a girl and her little brother came and did homework and ate McFlurrys. It was really cute. Today a kid asked where the Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane was, and I got all excited because I totally read that book in like fourth or fifth grade. He also got the first Warriors book (you know, the one about the cats). There's one old lady who has come a couple times, and she always ends up talking to the librarians for a really long time. Plus there's usually cookies in the workroom, and I always leave with two or three or ten books, so... yeah. I like it. It's fun being somewhere every week that I love, with people I really like. I'm the youngest one on Wednesdays, and I get the feeling that teen volunteers during the school year are a rarity. It's an honor, really.


State swimming is Friday and Saturday in Topeka. I'm an alternate, which is fine by me because a) there's little chance that I'll swim, and therefore no stress, b) I still get to go and hang out and cheer for my team, and c) my name is on the state shirt.

I'm very proud about that one, to be honest.

I'm currently reading Into The Wild, by Jon Krakauer. It is exceedingly fascinating and you should definitely read it. It's abut Chris McCandless, who trekked across the U.S. (and some of Mexico) for about two years before ending up in Alaska, where he died.

I really do admire Chris. He had guts, and there's no denying he was smart. He was an idealist of the highest order, and he lived what he believed. But gooosh I don't understand why he didn't pack more supplies, why he didn't wait until it was warmer, why he let himself starve. Lots of whys.

I'm only halfway through the book, so maybe it gets explained, but somehow I doubt it.

I get what drove him. I've felt it, that stirring, that urge to pack up and vanish one day. Were Margo Roth Spiegelman a real person, she would looove Chris McCandless. There are so many connections between the two.

And Chris was scared of people, of liking people, of connections and getting hurt. So I get that.

But... who just runs off to Alaska with out thinking through what you'll need? Without realizing "Wow, it's really snowy. I will need way more food." Over and over in the book, Chris proves he isn't stupid.

So why then? Why does he have a lapse in judgement when it is most crucial?

Also, why the third person journal entries? Actually, that is probably the weirdest part. That is what makes me question his sanity. Maybe he just liked third person, but it feels... off. Uncanny. Worrisome.

Ah well. Hopefully some answers will come through by the end of the book. But I doubt it. It wouldn't be nonfiction if everything was cleared up. It has to stay a mystery, I really do like this book, and I kind of want to hitchhike across America now.

Peace out.

"A Lot to Think About"

I know I said three weeks, but I'm just saying "Screw math" and writing this now.
You really don't have to read it. It's not eloquent or pretty, it's mostly me trying to get stuff OUT OF MY HEAD so there's spaced for Algebra tests and Chemistry homework and Newspaper stories.

A bit of what's on my mind:
~ 80s music and comic books (don't ask).
~ Picking out next year's classes. It's actually quite stressful, because COLLEGE COURSES. WHAT THE HECK I'M NOT READY FOR ANYTHING TO DO WITH COLLEGE.
~ Abortion and my anger about the fact that is so accepted in our culture. Seriously, I could rant about this. A lot. It's hard to be forgiving and righteously freaking furious at the same time, but I feel like I have to be. My heart kinda got destroyed by this a couple weeks ago.
~ Sex, and how we are totally lied to about it in our culture. (Am I allowed to use that word? I'm going with yes. My blog, my rules.) And love, too. (Can you guess what we're talking about in Spiritual Formations?)
~ Stuff I'm not actually allowed to to talk about yet (or maybe ever).
~ I need to drive. Annnnnd I still hate driving.
~ The school system really is awful. (I designed a completely new one a few days ago. I think it'll work.)
~ Freaking finals are coming up.
~ I am constantly tired. Always.
~ I really hate how big the earth is sometimes. And time differences. And it's just... Bugging me, right now. I can deal, I have dealt, I will keep dealing. I just wish it was different.
~ I have no idea what to do with my life. I know I want to write, to travel, to love, to worship, and to serve, but I don't know how or what that will entail.
~ Physical limits in relationships are easy. Emotional limits are really hard. Like, how much do you say? I just don't know what I'm doing (shocking, I know).
~ I want change and it terrifies me at the same time.
~ Cuss words. I do not understand this. I don't know why there is such a thing.
~ I hate talking about stuff that's important to me. But I don't like small talk either. There's this middle area, of stuff that's real, but not... Really close to my heart. If that makes sense.
~ Relient K understands me.
~ I just want it to be summer. I need Lilli time and books and swimming and flip-flops.
~ Please tell me everyone else is faking this whole "life together" thing. It's not even bad, I'm just so overwhelmed and I really don't know what I'm doing. This is not an exaggeration.

Honestly, take very little notice of this post. I just need to write some things down and get them out of my head.