do we really care any longer?

wonder why i never posted this...
i just stumbled upon my old blog.
never really posted much...
at any rate, i read it and mit made me think...

it is a beautiful evening. wonderful sunset. lovely air. crystal-clear view of the stars. feels right. wish i were outside...



been a while since i've written, it has been quite the whirlwind of a summer. i volunteered all summer long at a camp, i had a job watching my three minions for the summer however that went out the window when their mother hired someone else becase she thought i would be at camp all summer long. so... i ended up being at camp all summer long.



it was wonderful. spending time outside, time away from normal life, and you are able to be yourself because people do not expect you to be anything.



moving on... it has bene a while since i let myself ramble. wonder where it will go...



today i went to a youth outing, the youth interns of our small church took us to their aprtments that are on their campus an hour away, neighbors from across the hall brought their youth group and we played things such as ultimate frisbee (as i'm sure you know, is the best team sport since hockey) and then had dinner. i found some of the girls' opinions of people interesting. they began talking about people that come into their pizza parlor or walk past on a regular basis. after giving an interesting description that leaves me wondering about the person, the beign making fun of said person.

what?

if an old homeless man walks past me and is searching the ground for half-smoked cigarettes, i would be curious about his life, not scared to look at him or laughing at him. if a tattered woman always comes in with a cat in her bicycle basket, would i treat her as if she were about to murder me? no. my mind would be off thinking about all the possibilities of where she came from as i made sure she was well served.



those people sound genuinly interesting to me...

perhaps small minds truely are easily occupied.



another random tidbit (that's an odd word, tidbit... i never use it, however it fits.) i apparently am the secretary of the service club that began at our school last year. good thing the sponser selected officers, had we voted i would have never made it. i'm excited, last year i had plenty of ideas however they never really got off the ground because of our club being in it's charter year and all of the things that needed to get done for that. this year, my sponser and i talked about raising money and awareness for an organizatin called free the slaves. an excellent cause, hopefully we can take action on our plans and get something moving and the students motivated! that and we can always donate old shoes and cothing to the local charities... anyhow, i was discussing this with the new president of said club, venting a bit of frustration that we did not do anything last year. his reply? basically he said "oh well. the club looks good on a college application."

it's comforting when someone higher up than you on the officer totem pole isn't in the service club to SERVE.

my reply?

"it's a service club. who cares about college applications? if it's a service club we should do service, that's why we formed the club. not to look good. i hope... anyhow, we need to get moving. service is more than saying you're for it and putting it on an application."



i can only pray that the rest of the club is in this for reasons other than to look good!



i wonder how many people sport livestrong bracelets, to write love on her arms shirts, product red items, etc just because it's a fad. how many really know what they're supporting? i know a few people that don't know anything about livestrong. some people with multiple TWLOHA shirts that still make cutting jokes. and some people with product red things that may know about the cause yet don't care.

it's hard to tell when people are sincere.



then again... that last paragraph was all about what the outside looks like. who knows what is going on inside. and suppoting a cause is more than sporting the gear, it's about taking action and spreading awareness. mainly taking action, i read an article today by someone who is tired of groups specifically to raise awareness. i agree, so many people raise awareness and stop there. i may not often have any opportunity to do anything save spread awareness, however i am always searching for ways to do more. there always is a way to do more waiting to be found.


-now that i've read this post after several months, i can't help but wonder: when did apathy become the american way of life? we are trying to change it, and we proudly spread awareness of causes like breast cancer and go 'yeah, i'm doing something!' only to not be changed by the cause, not to truely care, not to try and help with anything else...
we support causes because it looks good.
we do it to impress.
we do it because we think it's right.
we do not do it because we care.
why?

someone in my family likes to 'support the opressed' and claims to like causes supporting oppressed people. i got my Voice of the Martyrs newsletter in, and remembering her liking of 'oppressed people' i asked if she would like to read it. "oh, well, i hate stuff like that. i mean, i like it, but i hate reading about it. it's good to suport them, but i hate reading about it. i hate when..."
i was confused. and slightly stunned.
so... she supports oppressed people...
and hates learning about them?
indeed.

the extension of a day and the prevention of another

i am a very tired person.
not now, it's spring break, and somehow i'm awake for the first time since, oh, last year.
i'm not tired just because of my massive workload courtesy of school (alright, it is, in fact, not that massive. i just felt like using the phrase.) or have been running myself into the ground during track practice (i'm not a good runner. my form is horrendous and at the moment i struggle to get throguh two miles of straight running. the other day while doing farleks my sprint to jog became a jog to jog. what happened to cross country, and 'four miles, no problem.'??)
i just tend to stay up late.
the rest of the world is asleep...
and...
well, i procrastinate the next day. everything is peaceful late at night, work is finished, and i bask in the feeling of being done for the day. because when i go to sleep, in the blink of an eye it will all begin over again.
days are much too short anyhow, perhaps we oculd make a petition and present it to the earth, asking for two more hours during the day. however, the human race with it's short attention span would quickly compensate for that extra time and before you know it- you are back in the same place. the day isn't long enough, so i just cut into sleeping time. makes sense, until oyu have trouble staying awake in your classes... seven hours of sleep isn't enough for me. nor is eight hours. ah.
this entire post is procrastination.
because as soon as i go to sleep and wake up, it will be thursday.
the day before the last day of spring break.
i'm a glass half-full person, until it comes to time and such...
maybe i just don't want to go fail at running again. agh.
or go back to college algebra and college chemistry...

however, i still like to be awake when the world, or at least my part of it, is asleep.
wish i was outside in this cool spring air stargazing...
or that i could be in the garden tomorrow, planting flowers... well, flowers not yet. still a bit early...

perhaps those that lack significant thoughts and have blogs simply wish to procrastinate the end of another day.

overachieving for a piece of paper, and other nonsensical nothings.

i am an overachiever.
there. i admitted it.
isn't admitting you have a problem the first step to recovery?
i suppose that some (alright, perhaps most) would not consider being an overachiever a problem, yet when you feel ill because all your frustrations and worries about grades make your stomach declare war on you, that could be a problem.
just maybe.
or when you are upset for days simply because you missed a question on a biology test because you put the wrong answer on the answer sheet, when you had the correct answer on the test, thus preventing you from achieving the ever-elusive perfect score of 100% on a test put forth by a teacher everyone dreads and claims is increadibly difficult.
maybe it's just the freshman mindset that made him difficult because quite frankly i had no problems.
maybe the real secret of being an overachiever is those that are bored enough to be one, are one. or at least that was the case with me in grade school. i had read any book of interest to me in our relatively small library, and for simple boredom was rereading several of them. i was the kind of kid who lived for those scholastic book order things to come around so i could go home and plead with my mom to buy me fresh material, that i would then reread in my boredom. i would then complete my assignments... out of boredom.
had my k-8 school library boasted authors such as rand, dostoevsky, or kierkgaard, perhaps i would have simply gone on some philosphy spree and faked my way into seeming so smart that everyone would leave me alone in a corner to read by myself. the teacher would have tested me out of fourth grade, and i would then go to high school where everyone would marvel at the kid who should be swinging on a swingset rather then toting books and applying to famed liberal arts colleges on full-ride scholarships.
okay, i did read a lot and they did leave me alone (however, that was why i read alot, it was better than doing nothing and hearing the insults thrown around in your general direction. you get a book, you zone out.)

i suppose that i got used to everyone expecting me to be smart.
huh. whatever that means.
'smart' is a word that i really don't like. so many meanings.

what happens if ther person expected to be smart isn't really smart and they feel as if they are just faking it all? is it possible to fool everyone into thinking you're a good student when inside you're just a dunce?

ah well. at any rate, you end up on a dead-end road, convinced that you're nothing, headed only God knows where, and are becoming unsatisfied with outr grades.

high school meant to me actually having to try. the transition from my parents pressuring me into all A's was seemless: i went from an above average student who teachers thought should get all A's instead of the peppering of the ever-horrific B's that showed up... perhaps that was my way of rebelling. "i don't want to try, i'm going for mediocrity, take that! teach you all to call me stupid again, i'll be both! isn't that what you want? for me to be pleasantly stupid and smart?"
and then i went to an absurd, perfection driven kid whose parents have long backed off of the entire grade thing because she pressure herself enough and gets upset over a B in any assignment whatsoever.

i thought that post had dierection before i wrote it...
now it's just...
pointless.
kinda like how i feel.
hmm.

all of my thoughts, thought in one sentance, seem to take forever to get out because they get lost, and then require me to dig everything else out in the process or finding them.

moving on...
well, to begin again...
i have trouble with being an overachiever. you feel good when you do well, however even when you do well you don't feel good enough...
i suppose that is why i seem to strived for perfection.. even thought i don't want to.
you do well, yet you do simply 'well' for so long that it means nothing to you. you have to keep toping your previous achievements over and over again...
you get a B, it's a bad day, you get in the truck at the end of the day and sing as loud as you can to some song thta always makes you feel better. you remember that you are alive, that it's no big deal and move on.
your college chemistry teacher say you are taking too long on a test and takes it away before you have barely scratched the surface on the last page... you cry all over the test at the ten minute warning (and it is hard to circle a letter D when that letter is barely ledgible because it's soaked) and can't even see the last page of the test because of your tears. you then feel pathetic (the worst insult i give, with variances to show the degree of patheticness.) and the bring yourself together, only to realize at one minute left that you know how to do ALL of the last page however it's a long set of redox and therefore you do not have time to finish more that writing the equasion.
you gather yourself together.
walk out.
and are stopped by your spanish teacher.
who reacts to grades the way you do, so that when she sees your face she automatically says "grades?"
yep. (that's all that question needs. i never say yep. just fits.)
and then you learn that once grades may kind of be important, however don't ruin your life over them. Once oyu go to college, the A student, the B student, the AB student and the student who's grades love rollercoasters all get the same...
peice of paper.
just a piece of paper.
it's a bad day, you get in the truck at the end of the day and sing as loud as you can to some song thta always makes you feel better. you remember that you are alive, and cry all the way home.
you get your test back.
you don't have time to cry because while your worst nighmares of getting a... not a B or A come true, a friend got a worse grade and didn't have the spanish teacher pep-talk. so then you make her laugh. give her a hug. talk about various anything's. talk about why grades are important to you/her.

it's a good day, you overcome and help someone else while you're at it.

yet why is it that such a thing is so important?
i suppose that i just want to be good at something...
anything that defines who you are.
i do something, and i don't count the number of people i'm better than, i count how many people are better than me.


after a group quiz in chemistry the other day, i was told "you don't give yourself as much credit as you deserve"
i...
think that was a compliment. the best one i've gotten.
better than "you're amazing." "you're soooo smart!" or "what do you mean you're not good enough? you're one of the smartest people i know!!" (smart... i don't like that word...)
it means to me: you're good, you just don't see it. i know that you are capable of more than you think.

i just hope that other people of the overachiever persuasion do not try to achieve perfection...
it's not possible, and even when you know that, you still strive for it.
stubborn mind.

when your mirror is broken on the ground... wait, what mirror?

i apologize (to my friend laura, who i think is the only one reading this) however due to a virus on my laptop, i cannot get on the computer too often. my mom is addicted to facebook. without 'fluffriends' 'hatchlings' or 'pet society' i wonder if she would have a social life or hobby at all. before facebook it was television. it has now migrated to television and facebook.
and, to add to the amusement: my grandma is also addicted.
and her computer is currently being worked on.
so my mom is on double the time she normally is...
spledfirous.
splediferous?
splendiforous...
hmm.
i suppose for a made up word spelling doesn' t matter.
unless it isn't made up...?

at any rate, a recent blog (recent would equal today) by stephen christian reminded me of how much the opinions of everyone shapes who we are... it made me think of back in my elementary school days (and they are not too long ago, my school was a k-8 school. so i considered jr. high to be elementary. my high school is three of the k-8 schools, each school being in it's own small town. my entire school is just over 400.)
i was always the 'model child' because i did as i was asked. the only 'real acting out' was two temper tantrums (i knew that they wouldn't get me what i wanted, i just threw a tantrum anyhow. i don't know why. i didn't even want anything.) and two accounts of cutting up clothing i didn't like. (with safety scissors. now that's impressive.) and those were all when i was seven and under.
maybe that was why everyone seemed to dislike me...
i would read through recess many times, and when i didn't i would sit and swing. swing and daydream. always by myself. completely in my dreams until that sharp recess whistle called me into the classroom. often i would dream of going away, and coming back to school completely different. i would be accepted and everyone would want to be my friend. i would then, with great indifference, casually tell them who i really was. they then would become embarrassed and ashamed at the thought of disliking someone so much only to later want to befriend them... i would then day dream about places in the school i could live. upstairs near the third grade hall (there were four rooms upstairs, three for third grade. i liked it up there...) seemed a favorite place of mine. i would live at school because the teachers were nice to me, and because the other students, were or course, ashamed. i have rambled on about this before, however i would also have a big brother in these dreams. being an only child is not something this only child dreamed of.

however, one thing i don't understand...
everything everyone ever said to me, at home, at school, everywhere... i believed it.
.
my brain was filled with the expectations of everyone. it didn't matter whether the expectations were good or bad, or even if i followed them.
i just believed them.
i still do
i know certain things are not true, however i still believe them. i don't think i'm stupid, however i don't think i'm smart. i don't think i'm worthless, i don't think that i'm a genius. what is true and what isn't? what happens when your self-image is not your own? when t is laying down on the floor, waiting to be picked up but you don't even know what shape it goes in to begin with?

well, i suppose you put it together anyway.
or just leave it there and become yourself while still wondering what to do with that mess on the floor. you see yourself broken and can't be sure what piece shows you without distortion.

how do you live with believing you are both smart and stupid?
i have gotten rid of one view...
however, getting rid of believing you are smart and still maintaing your position in the top ten in your grade...
does not work well.

a few weeks back, i didn't understand what we were doing in college algebra (my school offers dual credit classes.) and... it was due before i finished it. so, i wrote "i'm sorry i'm stupid" on problem 39 and turned it in.
did i believe i was stupid?
yes.
was i sorry?
yes i am.

i apologize profusely. my mom yells, immediately "i'm sorry!" runs through my mind. if she says it was my fault, i believe it. thankfully, i have limits on that. when my dad's eye problems (speaking of, after a year and a half my dad is BACK AT WORK!) were blamed on me, i was able to be hurt yet not believe it. thankfully, on that occasion she apologized.
i apologize for everything and anything that goes wrong. what do i mean when i say that?
well, mainly
"i'm sorry i'm stupid."

i said that once out loud.
to mom.
mistake.
what would you do, if your parent was calling something you said stupid?
well, for your sake, i hope that it isn't "i'm sorry i'm stupid"

what are you to think when your mom, a school psychologist who you think could handle such things a bit better, then tells you that it's a sin to think you're stupid because when you're "really smart" saying your stupid makes other people feel bad about themselves. then you do a double take realize that after saying something you said was stupid, she called you smart.

what?

you begin to feel oxymoronic.
i feel oxymoronic.
like you're stupid, yet you're expected to be smart.
that if you study and work hard enough, you can be both and therefore will not be letting anyone down.
i am a paradox.
that's...
not a good thing.

and then the stress from having an overachiever's mindset embedded in a mind that thinks it's stupid gets to you.
and you can't eat anything without it making you feel sick because the stress gets to you.
(went to the doctor for that. they took a blood test. i was laughing while blood was being drawn, apparently everyone handles anxiety differently. and this morning i went to get an ultrasound of my liver, stomach, gall bladder, etc because they wanted to check things out before they chalked it all up to stress. it's amazing. all of my organs look like gray blobs. and i see where the term 'kidney shaped drapery' comes from.)

why can't we just be ourselves without outside influence?
however, i suppose that the outside influence makes us who we are...
i wonder, if we all were raised in the exact same way if we would all turn out exactly the same.
hmm.

well, regardless, i wouldn't take back a moment of my life.
it makes me who i am, and without that who would i be?

i'm 17 going on WHAT?!?!

and just like that winter weather returns to the prairie. well, if you can really call this part of kansas a prairie. at any rate, thursday it felt so wonderful i almost went jogging (pity i didn't...) and the day after was absolutely freezing, as was today...
with the winter weather, feeling of spring was chased away. it appeared like we are in for quite the week of winter, so i changed the layout again...

before what i was really going to ramble on about, here's a special boring topic that i need to get out:

yesterday i was thinking about my schedule for next school year... and i began realizing things that i had known yet didn't really hit home. i will be a senior. and it will be my last year in high school. that is this fall. THIS fall. what happened to everyone saying "oh, you have plenty of time to figure out what college you are going to" and "don't worry about what career you will have" and "you have plenty of time"

well...

i kinda don't have plenty of time. it seems like just yesterday i was being told such things.

and the... WHOAH.

next year... i will be in college. not the whole high school/college credit think i'm doing now... i will be in college.

wow.

anyhow...

the whole college thing isn't as hard to comprehend as the fact that this september i will be turning... eighteen. i like seventeen. it sounds nice. college is comfortably far off, and you can search for colleges and careers without panic.

not that i will panic...

yet.

i would not mind going to college without a major or career decided, i would mind however, going to college without a college decided.

/end i have no idea what i'm doing ramble



aside from that...

back to the age thing.



ever just look around one day and wonder where your life went? i'm only seventeen, however i still find it odd that one day you're making elevators out of cardboard boxes with a girl from next door, the next you're in your basement singing into a porcelain-dolphin 'microphone' with a tennis racket guitar, the next you're playing pioneers with bicycle horses, then you're beginning high school... and then a few minutes after you began, you find yourself here thinking about your life for a longer amount of time than it feels like our life took.

and thinking of how you managed to chip that 'microphone' that your mom was so proud of.


people say that in heaven this life wil seem like it passed in the blink of an eye... to me it seems that all things past go in the blink of an eye. things can feel like they took forever yet in retrospect it still seems like it was over all too fast.


however i am convinced that somehow, when you are in a math class room or when a chemistry assignment is especially boring, time virtually stops for those inside. how else could i manage to concentrate for what seems like an hour, just to look up and realize that only five minutes have passed?

isn't it annoying how you remember the bad things in life? like when you didn't get as good of a grade as you hoped on that test, or seeing your bone while you were being stitched up (okay, that isn't bad... that is more memorable that other, better times.) or the time you got so fed up with yourself that when the college algebra assignment was due after you'd been frantically working on it, and since you couldn't finish you wrote "i'm sorry i'm stupid" on problem 39? (not that i have ever done that or anything... umm... yeah... that was pretty lame. and a pretty bad day. nothing i did went right.) pity that the good things can't be remmebered... for all of my life, whenever i have a good day or something good happens, i try to remember it... as in consciously attempt to store it in my head. sounds somewhat foolish, yet to an eight year old who was scared of growing up, it was somewhat comforting.

speaking of math... i really do not enjoy working on problems about working theories of how to get a certain figure that represents a qunatity of none exhistant matter from other figures representin other things that do not exist... aside from that, mathematics truly is amazing. ah.maze.ing. where else can figures work together so well, weaving in and out of each other forming the most theorhetical and well-built structure. it's astounding how well it all works together.
it just takes me forever to comprehend it.
probably because first i try to understand the reason for it.
and...
there is none, it just is. my mind does not like that unfortunatly...

at least in chemistry the numbers have a reason...

i digress...

where do you use that term? before or after the act of digressing?
i apologize for the rather scattered nature of this post... i was rather scattered when i wrote it...

at any rate... i wonder why you can know something without realizing it...

that which doesn't kill you... makes you what?

it feels like spring, never really felt like winter. that roller coaster of kansas weather makes it warm half a day and cold the other half, and for some reason has only delivered one of the three or four ice storms we normally have by this time. odd.
yet... it feels like spring. so i changed the layout to something that felt like spring as opposed to fall :)
moving on...

the other day, i said "ah well. it's in the past. whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger" and i really began to think about that phrase... i mean, is that always true? does it really only make you stronger? or should the phrase read "even if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger and forget the other stuff" perhaps that saying is meant in some cases, and in others it is used simply because you don't wish to tell you how whatever it is seems to be slowly killing you over time. maybe not physically killing, yet something in you is dieing. (i don't wish to think of how to spell that at the moment. i wonder how much they will count off of the writing portion of the ACT if i misspell something... i'll attempt to evade words i use on a regular basis and yet cannot spell.) i don't know. that's extreme perhaps, some people may just use it to shrug off further questions. i mean, what would make people leave the subject alone? "yeah, i'm really struggling in that area..." or "whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger!"

well, for whatever reason, even if it doesn't kill you, and even if it does make you stronger, it still may damage something in the process. i mean, for several years i was kind of shoved in the corner as a smart kid. and just the only outcast, no one was subject to bullying because the class took it out on me. and they ganged up on me, i mean they had to have made fun of others, yet even rivals could rally against me. that all took a pretty big toll on how i saw myself, and with other factors, i really didn't like myself. no one else did, why should i? yet through it all, i became stronger. yes, i am stronger. however... i am lacking in confidence. i always second guess myself. i never trust that what i thought i wrote is what i wrote. i find myself saying that i'm not good enough for anything when i should be able to do something right. (right? maybe?) i cut my finger rather badly on a jar today and began apologizing to my mom because i knew it was my fault and i was sorry that i had been so stupid. (my mom did the same thing two minutes later.)

i may be stronger now, yet it used to seem like a... a sort of hollow strength. i mean, one can appear Strong on the outside when everything inside is crumbling. kind of like a geode, you know those rocks you crack open and find empty space and a few crystals? it looks so strong on the outside... i'm apparently a good actor. during one of the hardest times of my life, i was completely torn up inside. (well, i know that there are people worse off... so sorry if i'm making it sound all horrible... well, it was to me at least.) and all the while, my closest friend (i only really saw friends twice a week. not cool.) was there and knew nothing. no one did. no one. just me. my friend still called me her 'rock' because of how 'strong' i was through all situations. she eventually saw through it... only because i finally told her. and she never really knew the full story until a few months ago!

moving on...
basically, i got stronger. however i wasn't really that strong. perhaps over time.
so, why do people use that expression?
i suppose i mean it when i say 'what doesn't kill me makes me stronger' because i choose to look at the positive aspects of... well, anything. (except for myself. i'm working on that.)

yet it doesn't always kill you or make you stronger, i talked to a friend about this that had something pretty major to her go on, and her reply was to the tune of "i don't feel like i got any stronger from that" however she said that maybe she'll see results later in life... maybe.

so...
"that which doesn't kill you will eventually make you stronger"?

a little bit o' thought on others' thoughts and siblings.

you know, for some reason or other we all care what people think. i don't understand why, some people want to impress others, some wish to play up their own lives and seem like what they are not, some wish to succeed simply do that they do not seem like a complete failure, and others... just want to get through life without falling flat on their face.

today was my first home basketball game where i played the bass guitar all by myself, as in no graduated senior coming in to help out on the songs i didn't know. before jazz band this year, all i knew was treble clef due to playing my flute in band. and now with pep band,i have to learn songs... very quickly. it's fairly ridiculous, yet i'm getting there... my vaguely small school doesn't have a very good amplifier, and naturally, i was nervous so i didn't play very loud. whoops. why did i care about a gym full of people that i really wouldn't see again, a student body that doesn't care about me, and some basketball players that probably didn't even notice? i didn't, it's just my nature to be worried when i don't know what i'm doing or don't feel confident in what i'm doing. (as stated before, i really don't have much confidence.) my friends didn't care, they like me just the same

after the game (we lost, as usual.) as i was walking out to the truck with a friend, i was feeling energetic and happy, i had survived my first game and my band director thought i did well. and, i was about to get in the truck and therefore 'fiestas con alto musica' could commence. i was singing and skipping my way out, sometimes i just don't care what people think.
what makes that so different from the gym?
i suppose more people are in the gym... more that i will never see or talk to.

i don't see why we all feel the need to be accepted... accepted by who? by people who would only care for you if you conform to them? accepted by people who ignore the real you and see whatever you mimick from them? i'm just tired of seeing people conform to others, when if you are not going to be yourself why be anyone at all, even trying to be yourself is a big step in today's world. are we really so starved for friends that we would change ourselves? then again, i've been there, and not having friends... well, it's not a good place to be. especially if you're an only child. (an only child with parents that do not even like board games. a stack of board games with dust on them is somewhat depressing. and you can only play scrabbble, monopoly, or chess with yourself so many times before it gets kinda old.)

i'm gong to switch topics on you.
keep you on your toes ;) (especially you laura. i know you need it.)
i'm not sure that people with siblings realize how lucky they are. i'm sure that some with siblings will say that i don't realize how lucky i am, however 'the grass is always greener' i suppose. i've always wanted a big brother. someone to bug when he has a girlfriend, play games with, get upset over dirty sock on the floor with, build forts with, have a snowball fight with... to kind of look out for me and i in turn for him. well, it's kind of late to have a big brother. (and i... have never built a snowman with anybody. or had a snowball fight. the only time i had an opportunity was when i took care of my minions {read as: babysat three boys} however the snow was rock hard. however we went sledding ^_^ however i now make snow angels and stargaze at the same time. it's wonderful to just fall down in the snow, a bright winter moon reflecting off of the snow, a few luminous clouds, and stars more clear than one can believe...)
also, an only child is the only child for their parents to yell at when they are angry, stressed, or upset. during a hard time (my family just went through a hard time with my dad, he was already blind in one eye then a series of problems in the other eye left him basically bed ridden for several months. and then another few months. he hasn't been able to work in a year and a half... at one point, the stress factor taking over, it was decided that it was my fault. right...) you become the make-shift stress ball for the family. something bad happens, you did it. something goes missing, where did you hide it. something needs to be done and your parents are watching television as usual, you drop everything and do it. something gets broken, you ruin everything you touch. the list goes on... and you have no one to go to when it's the end of a rough day. your parents watch tv as usual. (i always wanted to have supper at the table, or have a family game night... oh well. the game night did happen a few times however ^_^) and you're left alone. i'm not saying that siblings are glued to you 24/7, yet they i wouldn't think that they would be away 24/7 either. (then again, what would i know?) for those that think only children are spoiled: well, i guess it depends on the family. i'm amazed at how much some people get for Christmas... i mean, my family isn't poor or anything... just... wow. anyhow...

i suppose one should be happy with whatever life they are given, and i truely am, yet i've always dreamed, and dreaming sometimes was all that i had. yet what has been has made me who i am, and that's a good place to be.

life: well, what do we do with it?

someone i know on facebook (odd, you add people 'as a friend' even if you hardly know them. anyhow...) had this on their status; "the first step into getting what you want out of life-decide what you want....hmmm...." don't get me wrong, it's wonderful that whoever it is is thinking about such things (given it was meant and not a random thing put on the status)yet what do we want out of life?

maybe it's just the way the statement was worded that made me begin to think (well, actually, when it's late at night and i am in a certain mood i will probably ramble on anything. literally. i can look at a bug on the floor, and begin to think about if they feel any purpose in what they are doing, what purpose if any that i am feeling, what others think is their purpose, if there is a reason for... well, you get the picture. why can i never stay with one topic...)

i just deleted a LOT of this post and have decided to rewrite it from here on. why? well, it got too noncensical for comfort. my friend laura was right, i do tend to downplay what i think too much... i've gotten much to used to people not caring about what i say that even i began to not care... i hope that blogging will help. yet this is onluy my second post, i can't expect improvement yet... besically, i had a lot of typing and too much negative. the negative was not about the topic. it was just about me. sadly. ah well.
moving on...

life to me is a wonderful thing. truly being alive is one of the best gifts ever, yet i don't really think that it can be lived to the fulledt when lived for yourself... i'm the sort of person that believes in living for God, maybe you don't agree, yet it's hard not to agree with what God says to live for: others. have you ever seen the smile on the face of someone yuou've helped? maybe it is selfish to live for others, that feeling can be addicting. i helped an elderly lady that i didn't even know over to a wall a week ago because she was tired and wanted to lean on something other than her cane, she said i had made her day, that smile made my week.

why people don't care to help others is beyond me... things are probably going on that i don't understand, and everyone has a different story... ever wander around some days and wonder what various people are like? what their story is, where they are going, whether they are happy with life or are searching for something more... i suppose that is a ramble for another day.

i once saw several binders all with "i <3 me!" scribbled all over them. i began thinking of what kind of culture we live in where people just throw out such sayings, and draw them all over everything. maybe i was just jealous because i didn't love myself. it seems that the "i <3 me!" idea is taking over the "excuse me, may i help you?" idea of serving others. yet nevertheless, it got me to thinking: i wonder what people think while they write such things? do they really think about what they are writing means? wouldn't that be a horrible mindset to be increadibly me-centric? of course, i was bored in algebra III class. naturally, my mind takes ANY opportunity to wander despite how hard i try to keep it focused on the oh-so-wonderful world of theories about figures representing nothing. so my thoughts were bound to get ridiculous.

for me, it's not a matter of finding out what i want. it's a matter of A) finding what God wants of me and B) doing what i can to serve others in the process and after i find what i should do with my life. were i to put such things on my status (i... don't. my mom is on facebook. and i tend to hide the thinking side of me from her. i don't really know why...) i would put "lindsay is trying to find what God plans to produce from her life"
for many others, they have life and their reaction is 'what do we do with it?' i wonder at people who have figured out what to do with their life so early! they have over half a century to plan, and i am a junior in high school... and am the only person i know in my class that is undecided in a college. or a major. or a profession. "let go and let God," right?

it bothers me how some people throw life around as if it were a game, a 'whoever dies with the most stuff wins' sort of thing. Can't we just live our lives in such a way that when it's almost done, we can sit down and think of years past, of all of the lives that we have helped, of all of the smiles that we have seen, and of what's to come.
for some reason that last sentance makes me want to find an absurdly green place in the country in the spring and sit on a porch swing. all day. on a cloudy day. the kind after a storm, all days after a storm are wonderful, yet i think a specific day that i remmber is perfect... a wonderul clear morning with a few clouds to create amazing colors while watching the stars dissapear, watching the clouds take shape all day, not just any clouds, the kind that look... real. like they are popping out of the sky at you, beggin you to jump up and reach for them. then evening... brilliant colors. a fiery orange sky. the stars will begin to shine thgough the orange, and before you know it the clouds give way to a clear starry sky.
have i meantioned that i love kansas weather?
that would be a perfect day to contemplate how my life went...

and now i would like a porch swing on the front porch of a house in the country.
one can always dream, right?