Okay, for anyone who has actually read my blog, I know you are like, "okay, I got the Hell thing, and maybe a little bit of the Heaven, but not enough to know... and where the hell did purgatory come from? and what is this Earth that you belong in?" I know there are a lot of blanks, I will try to fill them in. I just feel like it was important to write this because this actually pertains to real emotions right now.
Heaven. Hell. Purgatory.
Earth.
Normalcy.
This is where I belong. It frightens me. But this is where I belong.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The Determining
I was always a very studious person, more studious than the average kid. From a young age, I knew I wanted to be successful and have straight A’s.
My struggles with reading comprehension and writing would soon bring those dreams crashing down. When I was little, I always did horrible with Language Arts, but I loved it. I hated math and science, but it was definitely my strength. I always scored off the charts in state testing for math and average for English.
From the day I realized I struggled with English, I pushed myself even harder until I was good at it. That was when I started sucking at math, and I classify that as the best moment of my life. I knew my parents would no longer pressure me into doing anything math or science related.
I really didn’t realize my weakness in English until fifth grade. In my fifth grade class, we had these newspapers we had to read and do assignments with. One assignment was a creative writing thing where we had to create a new continent and describe the people that live there.
I spent forever writing this story and I was so incredibly proud of the piece I’d written. I called it “Hanterstein,” and everyone lived outdoors and raised Bengal Tigers. It focused around two people, Kirsa and Bryan, best friends working to save the tigers from evil hunters. I thought it was clever, original, creative, and was very proud of the piece I’d written.
Unfortunately, my teacher, Shirley Lee, did not feel the same way. I was expecting all of these congratulatory comments to fill the page. That didn’t happen. Instead, there was a big fat “C” on the top of the assignment.
She didn’t even give me any reasons why, there were no comments on the page or anything. I was offended.
It was the most painful feeling I’d felt in ten years. First of all, it was a “C” and second of all, I’d tried so super hard at this assignment.
That was the moment I decided I wanted to be a writer. I am usually one of those people who when you tell me I did something wrong, I never do that thing again. I give up. But with writing, it was a different story. I enjoyed it.
I struggled with it, getting lower scores in it than anything else, but I eventually pushed myself up to AP level English. I joined the newspaper at my school and got an internship at a local newspaper, getting an above the fold story before age 17. It was then that I crossed journalist off of my list. For a while I didn’t know where that left me standing as a writer. I still don’t necessarily know where I stand as a writer, but I am curious to see where I will go with my writings.
To this day, I don’t think I deserved to get a C. Maybe if I hadn’t, however, I wouldn’t have realized I wanted to be a writer and I wouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. Who knows? Maybe I would have accepted math and science as my strengths and pushed myself harder in those subjects.
So, in a way, I really have to be thankful to Shirley Lee for giving me that C on the assignment. Without it, I’m almost scared to know where I would be.
I still have the intentions of making my “continent” into a story. It’s a little different now, there are no tigers, for one, but I am still just as proud of my creativity as I was back then.
My struggles with reading comprehension and writing would soon bring those dreams crashing down. When I was little, I always did horrible with Language Arts, but I loved it. I hated math and science, but it was definitely my strength. I always scored off the charts in state testing for math and average for English.
From the day I realized I struggled with English, I pushed myself even harder until I was good at it. That was when I started sucking at math, and I classify that as the best moment of my life. I knew my parents would no longer pressure me into doing anything math or science related.
I really didn’t realize my weakness in English until fifth grade. In my fifth grade class, we had these newspapers we had to read and do assignments with. One assignment was a creative writing thing where we had to create a new continent and describe the people that live there.
I spent forever writing this story and I was so incredibly proud of the piece I’d written. I called it “Hanterstein,” and everyone lived outdoors and raised Bengal Tigers. It focused around two people, Kirsa and Bryan, best friends working to save the tigers from evil hunters. I thought it was clever, original, creative, and was very proud of the piece I’d written.
Unfortunately, my teacher, Shirley Lee, did not feel the same way. I was expecting all of these congratulatory comments to fill the page. That didn’t happen. Instead, there was a big fat “C” on the top of the assignment.
She didn’t even give me any reasons why, there were no comments on the page or anything. I was offended.
It was the most painful feeling I’d felt in ten years. First of all, it was a “C” and second of all, I’d tried so super hard at this assignment.
That was the moment I decided I wanted to be a writer. I am usually one of those people who when you tell me I did something wrong, I never do that thing again. I give up. But with writing, it was a different story. I enjoyed it.
I struggled with it, getting lower scores in it than anything else, but I eventually pushed myself up to AP level English. I joined the newspaper at my school and got an internship at a local newspaper, getting an above the fold story before age 17. It was then that I crossed journalist off of my list. For a while I didn’t know where that left me standing as a writer. I still don’t necessarily know where I stand as a writer, but I am curious to see where I will go with my writings.
To this day, I don’t think I deserved to get a C. Maybe if I hadn’t, however, I wouldn’t have realized I wanted to be a writer and I wouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. Who knows? Maybe I would have accepted math and science as my strengths and pushed myself harder in those subjects.
So, in a way, I really have to be thankful to Shirley Lee for giving me that C on the assignment. Without it, I’m almost scared to know where I would be.
I still have the intentions of making my “continent” into a story. It’s a little different now, there are no tigers, for one, but I am still just as proud of my creativity as I was back then.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Eye Patch
My dear, dear sister... This isn't what I think of you in. You did, however, convince me that you worked for Santa Claus... and I believed you up until the point that I didn't believe in Santa Claus... (If mom and dad read this - I STILL believe in Santa Claus. Ha.) If this offends you, I am sorry. That isn't its purpose. Its purpose is to keep me at an A in English... So, I am posting it on my blog... it's okay, no one reads it anyway.
P.S. I am sorry... sometimes the name is "Marie" and sometimes it's "Mary." I think I caught all of the mistakes (I switched the name halfway through) but, if not, I know that I may have this issue.
The Eye Patch
My sister and I were watching an old episode of “Recess.” I’d just gotten home, and it was a tradition that we did together every Wednesday.
My sister, Mary, was the older one. She definitely understood more about the world at the time then I did. Now, I believe it’s quite the other way around, but that’s a whole other story. But at the time, Mary was 13, a teenager, and therefore I believe she ruled the world and knew everything. I had been so in awe of her that I believed there was no one greater than her.
I was a gullible child too. I always believed everything, as long as Mary said it. I had been so gullible, that she was able to convince me that she worked for Santa Claus and that she lived in another dimension as a dragon.
I had bad eyesight as a child. A lazy eye, which they had caught early. At the time, I thought the fact that they’d caught it early was the worst thing that could happen. The optometrist had sent me eye patches in the mail that I had to wear with the ugliest glasses. (It didn’t help that I had a huge head and a skinny body and was already teased on a daily basis for looking like a character out of “Peanuts.”) They tried to make them appealing by putting a cat and other patterns on the front of it, but it didn’t help. During “Recess,” I didn’t have to wear the patch.
I didn’t understand why I had to wear the eye patch. I didn’t even understand that my eyesight was bad. I could read and see just fine. They didn’t explain to me that only the muscles in my right eye were developing and the muscles in my left eye weren’t. These are things that they should tell the 7-year-old. All I knew was that I was the first kid with glasses in the class and it had just set my path for life. I would be forever-four-eyed and never chosen first in gym.
Maybe I looked more forward to not wearing the patch than I did hanging out with Mary. Sometimes, when Mom wasn’t looking, Mary would even let me take off my glasses.
That afternoon, we were sitting on the cool leather of the very lived-in green couches, looking at the old television cabinet, Mary with her Pepsi and I with my Juicy Juice. This was our only sister time.
I looked forward to this moment every single Wednesday. I even wore a red baseball cap, like the character TJ, to school so I could be ready to watch the show.
The episode of “Recess” dealt with TJ and his gang of friends getting into trouble yet again. I believe the teacher was named Ms. Gokey. Well, Ms. Gokey was meditating on top of her desk and Mary pointed out that she didn’t shave her legs.
I didn’t understand this at the time, but I nodded and shook my head and laughed. Mary was my cool older sister and I just wanted her to like me. I always did this. She usually didn’t catch onto my act, but this time she turned to me.
“Riley, don’t laugh, you don’t know what the heck that means.”
I was seriously offended. My sister had just crushed my heart. I think at that moment, I would have rather worn the ugly patch over my eye.
P.S. I am sorry... sometimes the name is "Marie" and sometimes it's "Mary." I think I caught all of the mistakes (I switched the name halfway through) but, if not, I know that I may have this issue.
The Eye Patch
My sister and I were watching an old episode of “Recess.” I’d just gotten home, and it was a tradition that we did together every Wednesday.
My sister, Mary, was the older one. She definitely understood more about the world at the time then I did. Now, I believe it’s quite the other way around, but that’s a whole other story. But at the time, Mary was 13, a teenager, and therefore I believe she ruled the world and knew everything. I had been so in awe of her that I believed there was no one greater than her.
I was a gullible child too. I always believed everything, as long as Mary said it. I had been so gullible, that she was able to convince me that she worked for Santa Claus and that she lived in another dimension as a dragon.
I had bad eyesight as a child. A lazy eye, which they had caught early. At the time, I thought the fact that they’d caught it early was the worst thing that could happen. The optometrist had sent me eye patches in the mail that I had to wear with the ugliest glasses. (It didn’t help that I had a huge head and a skinny body and was already teased on a daily basis for looking like a character out of “Peanuts.”) They tried to make them appealing by putting a cat and other patterns on the front of it, but it didn’t help. During “Recess,” I didn’t have to wear the patch.
I didn’t understand why I had to wear the eye patch. I didn’t even understand that my eyesight was bad. I could read and see just fine. They didn’t explain to me that only the muscles in my right eye were developing and the muscles in my left eye weren’t. These are things that they should tell the 7-year-old. All I knew was that I was the first kid with glasses in the class and it had just set my path for life. I would be forever-four-eyed and never chosen first in gym.
Maybe I looked more forward to not wearing the patch than I did hanging out with Mary. Sometimes, when Mom wasn’t looking, Mary would even let me take off my glasses.
That afternoon, we were sitting on the cool leather of the very lived-in green couches, looking at the old television cabinet, Mary with her Pepsi and I with my Juicy Juice. This was our only sister time.
I looked forward to this moment every single Wednesday. I even wore a red baseball cap, like the character TJ, to school so I could be ready to watch the show.
The episode of “Recess” dealt with TJ and his gang of friends getting into trouble yet again. I believe the teacher was named Ms. Gokey. Well, Ms. Gokey was meditating on top of her desk and Mary pointed out that she didn’t shave her legs.
I didn’t understand this at the time, but I nodded and shook my head and laughed. Mary was my cool older sister and I just wanted her to like me. I always did this. She usually didn’t catch onto my act, but this time she turned to me.
“Riley, don’t laugh, you don’t know what the heck that means.”
I was seriously offended. My sister had just crushed my heart. I think at that moment, I would have rather worn the ugly patch over my eye.
Untitled
Inspiration? No idea. Meaning? No clue. True story? Nope.
Title? It was "The Night" but I don't like that name...
The girl got in her car, shaking, not knowing what to do. She was crying, something she wasn’t used to. She was supposed to be strong and brave. This was the life she had wanted, how could she be so unhappy?
Her shaking hand could barely hold the cell phone as she tried to dial Chase’s number, not knowing whether or not this would end up being a mistake. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen with their relationship and was confused why she had decided to let the relationship continue while she was at college in the first place. She’d decided that he was a low life going nowhere, but couldn’t find it in her heart to break up with him.
“Hello?” Chase’s cool, relaxing voice answered the phone.
“I don’t know what I am doing,” she was hysterical, tears running down her face, “I can’t do this anymore, I don’t have a place to go, I can’t stay here. I don’t know what to do, Chase.”
“Hey, calm down. You can stay here if you need to, you know that. You going to be okay?”
Are you, she thought. He was the only person in the world she didn’t correct though. She let his grammatical errors slide though they felt like nails on a chalkboard to her. It made her a hypocrite because she knew her grammar was horrible, but she didn’t bug herself with bad grammar. Other people bugged her.
“Yeah, are you sure I can stay?”
“Yeah, of course.”
She made the 102 mile drive until she reached his apartment complex, stealing the one remaining “Guest Parking Spot,” well, spot from the dimly lit parking lot. She was afraid to leave her 2008 Beamer, a graduation present, in such a dingy lot. This place always gave her the creeps, always seemed really shady, but it was the cheapest rent and when you are living paycheck to paycheck on a minimum wage job, it is the only way. She was just spoiled and would probably never live that way.
He was sitting on the stairs on the outside of his building, smoking a cigarette, when he saw her. He put the cigarette out and went over to greet her.
“Hey, kid, you sure you’re okay?” He asked, though her tear-stained cheeks couldn’t hide what she was really feeling.
“Ya, I just, I don’t think I am college material.”
“It’s okay,” he said, putting an arm around her and leading her to his apartment, “you don’t have to be.”
He was the only one that could understand that. Her whole life she had parents who had told her she was going to go to college. They didn’t offer any other options. They used to point out the people waving signs on the side of the road and say, “See, that’s why you are going to college.” They didn’t understand that ambition didn’t necessarily equate to a college degree. Chase wasn’t going to college.
“It’s just, what am I going to do without college?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t you always have the dream of being a phlebotomist?”
She’d forgotten about her dream. She was too focused on the dream of others to remember that she had had a dream, but she had. She was planning on going to vocational school to become a phlebotomist, but when she told her parents, they gave her a look that said, “if you do, we’ll disown you.”
“It’s just, everyone is going to be so disappointed.”
“I won’t be,” he said, unlocking the door to his apartment. He didn’t tell her that he really was disappointed. Here was a girl who had the whole world going for, tuition being paid for by her parents, never going to have to worry about debt or anything and she was throwing it away, while he was living paycheck to paycheck until he could get a second job to pay for community college since his parents had kicked him out for no reason other than he was now 18 and no longer had to be their responsibility.
She almost seemed to give his apartment a look of disgust when she answered. What did she expect? Buckingham Palace? He didn’t understand why they stayed together. He loved her, but she was a spoiled brat and he knew that he would never be able to provide the life she has always wanted for her. He was never going to be the millionaire, he was probably never going to leave their hometown, he was never going anywhere in life. College was only a maybe right now and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be financially stable enough for that. He definitely wasn’t her dream guy, but she would never say.
She sat on the couch.
“Can I get you anything?”
“What do you have?”
“Instant coffee and top ramen.”
“Um, no thanks.”
She was hoping that he would at least have real food. Wasn’t it the college students who lived off of coffee and ramen? People in the real world were supposed to have real food. She didn’t want to say she was disappointed.
He came over and sat down next to her. “You sure you’re okay, kid? You don’t look okay.”
That was another thing that bothered her. He called her “kid.” What kind of pet name was kid? It made her feel so little and beneath him, like he was in complete control of her, like she couldn’t make the decisions she wanted to make. Her life was in his hands.
“Ya, Chase, I’m fine. I just needed to get away for a night. I just, I don’t know if I could go back. I don’t think I can do it, this college thing.”
“You’ve only been there a month, give it time. I’m sure it will get better.”
A month to her had felt at least like three. Had it really only been a month? How was she ever going to make it through four years of this? She didn’t think she ever would.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Calm down, of course you can.”
“No, Chase. I don’t think I can do this anymore, this long distance relationship thing.”
They’d been together for two years and now their relationship was on the line.
“Do you have a reason?”
“I just, I don’t know how to feel anymore. I don’t feel anything anymore. I don’t love you anymore and I can’t.”
It would have been better if she had another reason or had said she wanted to see other people, but to say she was breaking up with him because she was apathetic to life? It just wasn’t fair.
“Why are you here?”
“I wanted to have one more night to be someone, anyone, in someone else’s eyes. One more night to be in love, to have someone care about me unconditionally.”
“You know, if we break up, I will still feel that way about you.”
They started to kiss and eventually moved into the bedroom, knowing that this would be the last time they would ever be together.
“I love you, kid.”
She never said it back that time. She was gone by the time he woke up the next day. He wondered how she could just leave like that. He loved her. That was that. They were so flawed that they were perfect together.
He never heard from her again.
Title? It was "The Night" but I don't like that name...
The girl got in her car, shaking, not knowing what to do. She was crying, something she wasn’t used to. She was supposed to be strong and brave. This was the life she had wanted, how could she be so unhappy?
Her shaking hand could barely hold the cell phone as she tried to dial Chase’s number, not knowing whether or not this would end up being a mistake. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen with their relationship and was confused why she had decided to let the relationship continue while she was at college in the first place. She’d decided that he was a low life going nowhere, but couldn’t find it in her heart to break up with him.
“Hello?” Chase’s cool, relaxing voice answered the phone.
“I don’t know what I am doing,” she was hysterical, tears running down her face, “I can’t do this anymore, I don’t have a place to go, I can’t stay here. I don’t know what to do, Chase.”
“Hey, calm down. You can stay here if you need to, you know that. You going to be okay?”
Are you, she thought. He was the only person in the world she didn’t correct though. She let his grammatical errors slide though they felt like nails on a chalkboard to her. It made her a hypocrite because she knew her grammar was horrible, but she didn’t bug herself with bad grammar. Other people bugged her.
“Yeah, are you sure I can stay?”
“Yeah, of course.”
She made the 102 mile drive until she reached his apartment complex, stealing the one remaining “Guest Parking Spot,” well, spot from the dimly lit parking lot. She was afraid to leave her 2008 Beamer, a graduation present, in such a dingy lot. This place always gave her the creeps, always seemed really shady, but it was the cheapest rent and when you are living paycheck to paycheck on a minimum wage job, it is the only way. She was just spoiled and would probably never live that way.
He was sitting on the stairs on the outside of his building, smoking a cigarette, when he saw her. He put the cigarette out and went over to greet her.
“Hey, kid, you sure you’re okay?” He asked, though her tear-stained cheeks couldn’t hide what she was really feeling.
“Ya, I just, I don’t think I am college material.”
“It’s okay,” he said, putting an arm around her and leading her to his apartment, “you don’t have to be.”
He was the only one that could understand that. Her whole life she had parents who had told her she was going to go to college. They didn’t offer any other options. They used to point out the people waving signs on the side of the road and say, “See, that’s why you are going to college.” They didn’t understand that ambition didn’t necessarily equate to a college degree. Chase wasn’t going to college.
“It’s just, what am I going to do without college?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t you always have the dream of being a phlebotomist?”
She’d forgotten about her dream. She was too focused on the dream of others to remember that she had had a dream, but she had. She was planning on going to vocational school to become a phlebotomist, but when she told her parents, they gave her a look that said, “if you do, we’ll disown you.”
“It’s just, everyone is going to be so disappointed.”
“I won’t be,” he said, unlocking the door to his apartment. He didn’t tell her that he really was disappointed. Here was a girl who had the whole world going for, tuition being paid for by her parents, never going to have to worry about debt or anything and she was throwing it away, while he was living paycheck to paycheck until he could get a second job to pay for community college since his parents had kicked him out for no reason other than he was now 18 and no longer had to be their responsibility.
She almost seemed to give his apartment a look of disgust when she answered. What did she expect? Buckingham Palace? He didn’t understand why they stayed together. He loved her, but she was a spoiled brat and he knew that he would never be able to provide the life she has always wanted for her. He was never going to be the millionaire, he was probably never going to leave their hometown, he was never going anywhere in life. College was only a maybe right now and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be financially stable enough for that. He definitely wasn’t her dream guy, but she would never say.
She sat on the couch.
“Can I get you anything?”
“What do you have?”
“Instant coffee and top ramen.”
“Um, no thanks.”
She was hoping that he would at least have real food. Wasn’t it the college students who lived off of coffee and ramen? People in the real world were supposed to have real food. She didn’t want to say she was disappointed.
He came over and sat down next to her. “You sure you’re okay, kid? You don’t look okay.”
That was another thing that bothered her. He called her “kid.” What kind of pet name was kid? It made her feel so little and beneath him, like he was in complete control of her, like she couldn’t make the decisions she wanted to make. Her life was in his hands.
“Ya, Chase, I’m fine. I just needed to get away for a night. I just, I don’t know if I could go back. I don’t think I can do it, this college thing.”
“You’ve only been there a month, give it time. I’m sure it will get better.”
A month to her had felt at least like three. Had it really only been a month? How was she ever going to make it through four years of this? She didn’t think she ever would.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Calm down, of course you can.”
“No, Chase. I don’t think I can do this anymore, this long distance relationship thing.”
They’d been together for two years and now their relationship was on the line.
“Do you have a reason?”
“I just, I don’t know how to feel anymore. I don’t feel anything anymore. I don’t love you anymore and I can’t.”
It would have been better if she had another reason or had said she wanted to see other people, but to say she was breaking up with him because she was apathetic to life? It just wasn’t fair.
“Why are you here?”
“I wanted to have one more night to be someone, anyone, in someone else’s eyes. One more night to be in love, to have someone care about me unconditionally.”
“You know, if we break up, I will still feel that way about you.”
They started to kiss and eventually moved into the bedroom, knowing that this would be the last time they would ever be together.
“I love you, kid.”
She never said it back that time. She was gone by the time he woke up the next day. He wondered how she could just leave like that. He loved her. That was that. They were so flawed that they were perfect together.
He never heard from her again.
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