What To Think

Sometimes, I can't decide if I'm not blogging (or rather, not blogging anything particularly interesting or relevant) because I'm too busy or because I don't want to plummet down the dark, jagged, winding, cavernous rabbit hole that thinking about important things like life will cause.

Because the truth is that life is incredibly eventful currently, and I don't even know if it would be morally decent to attempt a blog post of it all. It almost... I don't know, trivializes it. Turns it into something tangible or comprehendible.

Not to say I've gone skydiving or met my favorite actor or won the Nobel Prize recently. But I've thought some very profound thoughts, said a few profound things, and felt a couple profound feelings. And that deserves, if nothing else, a nod to the universe in 12-point font form.

I guess the thing that everyone seems to be leaning towards me, hand cupped around their ears for, is graduation. Like... how am I feeling? Am I excited? Am I sad? Everyone's so expectant for my feelings that it's subconsciously drained me of conscious emotion towards the whole affair. Like... yes. It's happening. Okay. I'll take Next Conversation Topic for 400, please.

I mean, I haven't even intrinsically grasped my own emotions on the subject. Maybe if the whole world would give me a chance to, I could articulate something presentable to respond to other people. As it is, I'm giving the standard, typical high school answer of "I'm ready to be done," which is true of course, but not a true answer to the question. It satisfies the asker though, and leaves me biting my lip and wondering... hold on. How do I feel about it?

I've been meaning to write some advice to Freshman Abby, though, and perhaps that will help. And watching a few darling eighth graders that I know prepare to captain the churning waters of public secondary education makes Subconscious Me stretch out my hand and open my mouth to call out some fragment of wisdom (though nothing comes yet), so I'd better work on that whole articulation thing sometime soon.

I should really try and fit something more thought-provoking into this post. Right now it's shaping up like one of those TV dinners that has so much potential to be your new favorite thing ever but then ends up being underheated and bland.

Okay. Well.

Here's something I've thought about recently: We are alive to take risks. If we never risk our hearts, our preconceptions, our physical health, our mental sanity, our personal hygiene, and so forth every once in a while, what's the point of living?

But there's a flip side. The idea behind risk-taking is not that you're brave enough to do it, but that you're doing it mentally prepared to deal with whatever consequences, unfathomably good or horrifically bad, that arise. It's not saying "Why not, I'm young and alive" and promising that this will be your only time getting high or breaking into some abandoned building or pretending to relish some drunk recklessness that is secretly making you cringe.

It's when you're with your best friend for the last time in probably years and you realize there is no good reason why you shouldn't go streaking at midnight behind a row of houses. Or when you're looking at your favorite person for the hundredth time and figuring out that it's not going to take a hundred and one for you to blurt out in pure, Shakespearean poetry why you love them. It's being with the people and places you love most and knowing that carrying on with the same old crap isn't going to do anyone or anything justice.

The last thing I want is to look back on anything and wonder if only. 

So at least until I leave for Wenham, Massachusetts on August 21st, I'll be taking some risks that hopefully shock Freshman Abby and rather impress her.

Cheers, folks. (I can't believe I just said that, but try and pretend it works.)

Dear World,

Hey. Buddy. Um, don't know if you got the newsletter, but if you did, go ahead and take another look at the calendar.

See where it says it's May? That means the busy-ness stops now. Like... now. I'm not supposed to be running around at all hours doing things I'd rather not have to do. I'm not supposed to be having to cancel on other people because I have conflicting plans. I'm not supposed to be having to tell the person that I want to see the most that we'll have to schedule something for next week. What's wrong with you?

This was supposed to be the part where I could skip school and go on adventures and not... like, you know... worry so much.

Sigh.

Just... get your life together, will ya? I'm tired.

And Now, a Metaphor

You know the part in The Parent Trap where Annie is jumping off the dock naked because she lost at poker and she's terrified but just totally goes for it and does a perfect dive, completely exposed, and then once she's underwater they all take her clothes and run, leaving her alone, naked, soaking wet, and forced to deal with a completely unplanned situation?

I totally get it now.

Stop Judging Me

I think soccer jerseys are awesome. (I also love rugby shirts, but that has no pertinence to this post. I just think it's worth saying.) Specifically, Manchester United home jerseys are pretty sick. Maybe it's because my brother loves them, so they're some of the only jerseys I'm familiar with, but regardless, I dig that fiery red. However, I can't wear one. And I'll tell you why.

(I'd like to take a minute here and recognize the fact that I'm writing about sports right now, which makes me uncharacteristically gangster. Moving on.)

It's impossible for me to just buy a ManU jersey for myself and wear it simply because I think it's awesome because I don't follow the team. Which means that if a cool athlete kid at college were to compliment me on it and then proceed to ask what I think of the new manager, or who I think will be strong this season, or whatever... I would have no clue what they were saying. I would be put in the position of having to say the most ignorant thing ever, which is that I don't watch soccer, but merely wear a jersey for no reason at all. Like a completely uninteresting white girl. Ick.

And to be honest, that bugs me a little. That people get so worked up about sports teams or TV shows or book series' (serieses? serei?) or fandoms or whatever that no one is allowed to like anything anymore. 

I can't wear soccer jerseys because I'm "not a true fan of the sport". I can't say I listen to Sleigh Bells because I "only have their #1 song, so it doesn't count". I can't say I like Doctor Who if I don't have a favorite monster, doctor, season, companion, and so on. I can't appreciate Hermoine Granger's sassy intelligence or wish I'd get my Hogwarts letter at age 17 because.....because....

....I've never read the Harry Potter books. There, I said it.

See what I mean? A bunch of you just gasped and vowed to snub me the next time you saw me. Don't even deny it.

We as a culture have made other human beings ashamed to have sincere feelings for something we enjoy or be innocently naive of a certain aspect of pop culture. What is wrong with us?

Why can't we just let people enjoy discovering new things without requiring that they explore every aspect of that thing known to humanity so they can say they're a true "fan"? Why can't we be okay with people that didn't read/watch/listen to/enjoy the same cool thing that everyone else did when they were kids? It has no bearing whatsoever on how cultured or intelligent someone is. So lay off, fandom police.

While we're on the subject, I might as well confess some other stuff too:

I've never read Harry Potter, and have seen only 3.5 of the movies. But I have some of the film scores on my iPod.

I have read the entire first Twilight book (never saw the movies though), and a few chapters of the second. Secretly, shamefully, at the library.

I will love High School Musical forever, even though I never saw all three movies until I was 13.

I've never seen LOTR, and have only read The Hobbit. But I was given an authentic Ring (complete with the inscriptions on the outside) of my own... and I lost it last year.

I have the Jonas Brothers (among other things) on my iPod and still jam out to them...often.

I have no affiliation for SpongeBob. I never watched it as a kid and have yet to understand the obsession.

I read the Hunger Games books after I heard the movie was coming out just so I could say I'd read them to the fandom police.

I still haven't seen the series finale of How I Met Your Mother. Actually, I've only watched parts of the last few seasons. But I call myself a fan.

I don't like rap music all that much. I know the lyrics to a few rap songs because I literally googled them.

I do, however, still have Blurred Lines on my iPod, and have yet to be annoyed by the song Happy.

I inwardly fangirl like a 13-year-old over Niall Horan. And I secretly find OneDirection in general extremely catchy... and okay, hot.

I had a very, very short obsession with Justin Beiber, though publicly I professed my disgust with everyone else.

I only watched 1 episode of Community, and I make witty jokes about the Troy and Abed mugs (even gave one as a gift once) without ever having legitimately seen them on the show.

I didn't see The Little Mermaid until I was 12.

I could not name any of the 49'ers players besides Colin Kaepernick, but yes, they are absolutely my favorite NFL team. (Also the Raiders. No, I can't name any of them either.)

I've never once played a game of Monopoly.

I have no knowledge of the old, comic book DC vs. Marvel universe. I adore superheroes, and I love the movies. But I have no opinions on which universe is better. (Except Spiderman. I grew up on the old cartoons, with the original theme song. So when people ask, I say Marvel is better... because of Spiderman.)

I think Kristen Stewart is a decent actress.

I've barely read any plays. (In the inner circle of theater kids, this is a cardinal sin. You have to be able to make references to David Mamet or whoever at a moment's notice.)

In general, I make references to things I have no knowledge of so people will think I'm more cultured than I really am.

I thoroughly enjoyed most of the movies my critical, theater friends labeled as "terrible." I'm not going to list them all.

Most of my hipster music (and by hipster I mean the hipster bands that all hipsters are into, i.e. the 1975 and twenty one pilots) I only know about through other people... I only found my most obscure music on my own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[I literally cringed after typing each one of those. Like, I had to physically force myself to type some of them. Readers of this blog are not allowed to use these against me. I published them on the internet. That means I don't care how much you make fun of me. So just don't.]

Now that I've sufficiently traveled down the deepest, darkest hole possible with this post, there's not much left to say. Except that if I can be this lame, pop-culturally, and still act like I'm cool, the rest of you can have the decency to be nice to others who may not be on the same level of obsession that you are with a sport or actor or TV show or band.

Just chill. Okay?

Candid Wisdom and Wit

Inspired by dearest Olivia's perfect blog post today on finishing a John Green novel, I decided to share a few quotes said by the people who choose to grace my life, and maybe you all will realize why I pretend to be witty and wise (because compared to these people, I'm not).

"Falling in love with book characters is not so incredibly pathetic as it seems. It means that the reader is enjoying and loving something completely abstract, and that is a unique, advanced characteristic requiring a great deal of thoughtfulness and understanding. " 
-Olivia Parvin

"I think in poetry and colors and bits of sound and it really is beautiful, having the mind of a writer, but sometimes it just really hurts." -Coree Stuart

"I'm really good at things that don't matter." -Marshal Nichols ... (Not particularly poetic, but I thought about it for a while, and the longer you think about it, the deeper it gets.)

"We live in a culture where everyone is encouraged to 'be different, be yourself'. With everyone trying so hard to be different from everyone else, it's hard. But you're one of the few genuinely unique people I've ever met." -Ali Thomas

 "You can go anywhere and have the power of the one true living God inside you. And that makes you pretty darn mighty." -Dave Hutchings

"You always try so hard to make your life like a movie. But you're already like a movie, you don't have to try." -Matt Zimmerman 

And last but certainly not least, my all-time favorite, by the author of a hundred nuggets of wisdom. This has come back to me hundreds of times over the past few years. 

"Dear 4am,
The scariest things we submit ourselves to are hardly ever spiders or snakes or clowns. To me at least, the greatest fear is found in those moments in which you allow what people think of you to be replaced with who you are. And knowing that where you stand with them is inevitably going to shift." 
-Sarah Labanc

Chills.

All of these, though. Gosh. I live surrounded by poets. 

[Author's Note: If you come back to this post in days following, there may be some added. I can't think of any more right now, but I know they're floating out there in my mental universe. They'll come to me later.] 

Dear Prom,

Your day is charged with a tingly anticipatory excitement from the moment my eyes squint awake. It's hectic, and the new curlers are frustrating, and there's always some last minute important thing that was forgotten. But I love it.

There's something exhilarating about being a girl on days like this. The oh-so-important scent of hairspray hanging in the air, the warmth of steaming curls next to your ears, the glitter of your rarely-painted nails, the sticky shine of mascara and lipstick. There's something strangely satisfying about sliding a zipper up your side to enclose yourself in silk and satin and beads. Suddenly, you're slipping painted toenails into the perfectly matching pair of shoes and the dress-transformation scene from Cinderella flashes through your head in brilliant color and you look in the mirror.

The angel-soft curls cascade around your face - which for once looks magazine-cover worthy, your dress snuggles around all the curves you want it to, you smell like sunshine and the Botanical Gardens, your eyes sparkle, and without realizing it, the word princess floats to the surface of your mind. Wait a second. This is the same person who looked in the mirror this morning and saw messiness and tired eyes, right? The transformation is nothing short of magical.

And then, as you finish a dreamy sigh, the doorbell rings, and your breath catches. The pumpkin carriage and the prince have arrived.

The night is young, and so are you.