Christmas Eve Musings

Right now I'm sitting in my dining room next to the Christmas tree, listening to Christmas Gregorian chants playing quietly in the background. Soon I'll be watching It's a Wonderful Life with my family while eating popcorn. But right now I wanted to sit down and type.
It's been a long semester. It's been filled with school, with extracurriculars, with college applications, with stress. But with Christmas here, I've been able to relax. To forget about some of the things that have been stressing me all semester. For me, Christmas has always been a time to take a break from the long year and just relax. It's often a haven in a sea of the year. And in that respect it hasn't been any different.
However, it has been different in some ways: I'm using this Christmas season to prepare myself for the last semester of high school. And I'm using it to be thankful for the little things. I suppose you could say that that has been the theme of this Christmas season for me. It's been all about little things:
My favorite Christmas song coming on the radio while I'm driving to Starbucks.
Finding the perfect Christmas present for someone.
Spending time with my closest friends.

Watching glitter gleam in the shine of Christmas lights.

Making fudge and candy.

Dancing with my favorite person.

Wearing red lipstick.
Talking to my best friends before watching The Hobbit.
Cuddling up on the couch with a blanket to watch a movie.
Snuggling in blankets with my cousin watching one of our favorite TV shows late at night.
Walking around in an abandoned barn.

Being reminded of my favorite things.
Perfectly wrapping a present or fluffing up tissue paper in a bag just right.
Simply having best friends.

Carefully unwrapping a present.
Going shopping and singing along with the radio while walking around in the cold.
Sitting in Starbucks on Christmas Eve, drinking chai, reading The Fellowship of the Ring.
The sheer, bare beauty of winter.

It has really been all about the little things in life. But isn't that what life really is? A conglomeration of little things fit together in a perfect puzzle of life?
Although we talk about the "big" things that happen in our life, and although those big things are important, our life consists of these little things. These every day beauties that pop up all around us. And even the big things come about because of the normal things that occur day to day.
The little things of this season have been everything about this season. Although it hasn't been a terribly eventful Christmas season, the little things have made it all that it is. It really has been a beautiful season, thanks to the little things, family, and incredible friends who have filled it.

Life of a High School Home School Senior

Yep. It's that time. I've been a senior for a month now, and I have to say I've never had such an exhilarating experience in my life.
Which for me means sitting at home all day every day doing school.
Seriously you guys, I'm an introvert, get over it.

Okay, no really, senior year has been awesome so far. And although my life hasn't been super filled with awesome things, it's starting to get that way.
Chorus starting this Friday.
Mock trial starting on the 20th.
Plus all the parties, dances, and all that jazz happen late autumn through the winter. So it's going to be an exciting time.
Plus I'm planning on having my senior pictures done soon by the lovely Mary Helen. (you should go check her out. she's pretty fantastic) I'm pretty excited. I mean, we're talking senior pictures you guys. You only get these things done once. It's really my first real, legit "photo shoot" I've ever had done. So yeah. Excitement you guys.

But really, senior year is just pretty chill.
Sometimes.
Today, not so much. It was more like get up, study like heck for a Latin test, take hour long test, go babysit, go to Panera, come back and stress out about school, go hang out at Chick fil a with buddies, go back home, type.
Friday, it'll be like, get up, do school like crazy, write papers, do last minute English AP work, go to chorus, go to my buddy's house, do school there, sleepover with her and our buddies.
That may not sound like much, but when you have ideas for paintings running around in your head, applications piling up on your desk, and tons of White Collar to watch, I can assure you things get more stressful. (and yes, White Collar IS just as important as college applications. I mean seriously you guys. We're talking Neal Caffrey here.)

Honestly, I've found senior year to be a time of reflection more than anything else. It's interesting to look back on my freshman and sophomore year, and see how I've progressed since then. Honestly, in some ways, I'm just the same. I'm still that uncomfortable, fourteen year old who hides in the bathroom when she gets scared of everyone (it's just now, I can hide behind the trusty iPhone). I'm still the girl who makes everything look worse than it is (it's just now, I only complain to my best friends). I'm still the girl who can walk outside on a crisp fall morning, breathe in the air, and feel like she just breathed in joy. I may or may not still dance around my room to Taylor Swift on occasion. I may or may not scribble down angry, ineloquent words in my journal from time to time about stupid people and the stupid things they do all the time.
But really, I've changed in many ways too. I'm more comfortable with myself. I know my passions and I constantly plan ways in which I can build up my expertise in them. I know when to say no to things. Although I'm still absolutely terrified of people, I've learned to be more outgoing, and less like a female Mr. Darcy; too proud to say a word to other people, because he would "not take the time to practice." I've learned to speak up and shut up at the proper times. (well. most of the time.) I've learned that God is the only solid foundation there is. I've learned that liking things even when they're not cool is okay. And I'm still learning not to worry about what other people think about the way I dress, talk, and act. It's a work in progress, but I'm getting there.

High school, as it is for most people, has been a time of learning for me. And yeah, I am basically going into the whole "I know who I am now" kind of thing that seniors go into, but can I say I'm honestly excited? As a freshman and sophomore I was terrified of what other people thought about me. It wasn't until I became a junior that I started letting go of that. High school is definitely a period of learning who you are, and it's happened to me.

However, now I'm not really focusing on the fact that I've learned who I am. I'm more focused on what I want to do with who I am. I'm an artist and a writer at heart. And I want to do incredible works to the glory of God with those passions. And considering that, I better get into college. And considering that... well... the applications are on my desk...

And so that's what's in the mind of a high school senior right now.

You and I

You and I sit on the back porch. It is mostly silent except for the squeaking of the old, wicker rocking chairs outside. We haven't said anything in five minutes, but it doesn't really matter. I don't think either of us care. I watch a bird flutter down onto the patio. It chirps, jumps, and flies away. I chuckle. You grin. We continue to sit. I look over at you. You look back. I smile at you. You smile back. And I look away, thinking about how good I have it.
It's the simple life. You chuckle. "What?" "Nothing." I grin. Nothing of any consequence may be said within an hour of us sitting like this, yet I feel like I've had the conversation of a lifetime.
It begins raining, and as we begin to talk, we can barely hear even our own voices over the sound of the roaring of water through the gutters overhead. The smell of April fills my lungs as the rain sends up an earthy smell from the ground. A disgruntled wren flies through the air to the bushes by the picket fence. You and I talk more. And our thoughts turn to a more serious mood as the wind flies through the screen and rushes into the brick wall behind us, finding no place to go. As we talk, I learn to think like you think, because I believe it's a much more interesting state of mind. And maybe we'll go back to sitting in silence, or maybe our conversation will continue for another two hours. I never know.
It's just you and me sitting together. And that's all I really want.

You and I ride down the interstate blasting Relient K or The Avett Brothers. We sit in absolute silence all the way up. The hypnotizing lull of the tires rasping across the black asphalt put me in a quiet state of mind. You and I sit there, occasionally making a comment on something, perhaps even holding a conversation from time to time. 45 minutes of this, and all is right with the world.
We're on the way back. Another 45 minutes of this. This time it's night, and we pass through states of city lights and star lights. We laugh the whole way back. Anberlin, or perhaps Rich Mullins or Simon and Garfunkel (or if we're feeling in an epic mood, the Dark Knight Rises soundtrack) is playing in the background. We talk about life and people and everything that comes to mind until we get home.
Sometimes we might even sit up in my room until three in the morning continuing a conversation that probably no one else would understand. But that's okay. I'd listen to you talk for three hours straight. It's fun to listen to you talk. I learn so much when I listen to you, and I think you teach me more about life than most "wise" people do. I don't want to be anywhere else right now. Because,
it's just you and me talking with each other. And that's all I really want.

You and I sit up until five in the morning. We talk about the most insane things, and laugh about the stupidest things. Know what I like about you? I like the fact that you can make me laugh about stupid things. I like it when people can do that. And when I'm so mad at you that I want to scream, you just sit there and remain calm. Or laugh at me. Either one typically works, and you know when to use which one. We're best friends. You and I both have a sense of wonder about us that few people have. A sense of ridiculousness that few people have. And I like that. I like sitting out in the yard with you with no tent staring at the stars. I like watching the moon set behind the pine trees in your backyard until it has completely disappeared among the evergreens.
We may talk for hours. We may watch our favorite TV shows. We may watch a stupid movie from Disney. Whatever we do, we have fun at it. We ride in your car blasting music with the windows down in the middle of winter. We talk about the most serious of topics, and worry about things that shouldn't be worried about. But we get each other.
It's just you and me being best friends. And that's all I really want.

In Desire of Autumn

I'll admit it, I'm kind of a fall girl.
Although I'm pretty sure most of you know that.

I know I talk a lot about how much I love the sweaters, cicadas (just so long as they're not on my face, head, or within fifty feet of me), leggings and jeans, pumpkins, apple cider, and the like. And it's true, I absolutely adore those things. I love the idea of back to school supplies, carrying around Vera Bradley purses and bags, sitting in the backyard with my camera, and all those lovely things that just come with autumn.
However, there is something that I don't talk about a lot in relation to autumn, and that is music.
To me, each season has a "sound" in music. Spring is a conglomeration of beautiful indie music and the beginning of summer music. Summer music is some good rock music, ranging from Southern rock like Lynyrd Skynyrd to some good "hard" rock (at least in my terms) like Anberlin. Winter music is usually just Christmas music. Incessantly. Constantly. Every second of the day. I listen to a little bit of other stuff, you know, a little bit of Coldplay awesomeness, but really. Christmas music is really all I need during winter.
But as for autumn, it has probably the most distinct sound. It's just the most beautiful of sounds. To me, autumn sounds like The Avett Brothers, Relient K, Paul Colman Trio, Michael Buble, Ella Fitzgerald, Nickel Creek, David Crowder Band, and Dashboard Confessional. It's a mix of light rock, bluegrass, and the good 'ol 40s classics.
I know to most people some of these bands might not sound particularly "fallish," but to me they have particular memories attached to them. I remember finding the song "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional last autumn and absolutely falling in love with it, listening to it incessantly. I remember listening to Michael Buble and Ella Fitzgerald the past two years, and especially last year; that music helped me through so much. I remember blasting The Avett Brothers and Relient K while driving down the interstate with my brother. Paul Colman Trio reminds me of Chicago in the fall. These things are just lovely to me.

Since autumn is coming, I decided to follow the trend of posting playlists from Spotify to my blog. This is an August playlist. You'll definitely hear a mix of summer sounds and autumn sounds. It could go from Anberlin to Ella Fitzgerald in a heartbeat, so be prepared for anything. *wink*



To me these songs bring a roaring end to swimming in the river, eating frozen yogurt, driving down the interstate in the heat of summer, and watching summer flicks at the theater, while heralding in watching White Collar, drinking hot tea, cider, and chai incessantly, sitting outside with blankets and hot, homemade popcorn, and festivals.

So long summer. Welcome autumn.

August - A month for thought

August is my least favorite month of the year.

Although this might seem like a pessimistic thing to say, let me give you a few reasons why I hate August so much:

First. It's the month in which I start back to school. And this year I am a senior. And I am not ready for it. I started school on Monday, and literally sat at my desk for nearly thirty minutes thinking, "I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this." You guys, I'm seriously not ready to be a senior.

Second. For the past two years, I have just gotten back from a two week long camp where I had super close friends. And I return to home. And home isn't exactly that lovely fairy tale land called summer camp. Home is that place called real life. Fairy tale mindsets and the stuff the real life throws at you don't dwell well together, I've learned.

Third. I have many bad memories attached to August. For the past two years, August has been a time in which I have gone through something incredibly difficult in my life. I'm starting to feel like August is a virtual Friday the 13th for me.

Fourth. It is that time that is just before autumn. And you want autumn so badly. But you can't reach it because it's still ninety-six and a half degrees outside. 

And the list goes on.

I'm not a fan of August.

However, at the same time, I feel rather reclusive and thoughtful this month. As I said, the past two years, two of some of the hardest things in my life had either just happened or were happening in August, and it was just a tough month. Or, for last year, the first of several tough months.

I like to look back to those times and see where I have come from those. 

I have grown.

I am a different person.

I like to imagine that God has shaped me and is still shaping me from and through these experiences. Although they are painful at the time, they have led me to a deeper sense of God's presence, power, and love. And if I can see that, believe that, and feel that, I think that those experiences were for the best.

Also, since August is the month of starting school back for pretty much every school kid, I tend to muse about past school days. I feel like an eighty year old sometimes when I think back to my freshman year... it feels like it was so long ago, when in reality, it was only three years ago. But I like to imagine those late summer and early autumn days when I first started high school. It's especially funny and interesting this year, because I'm a senior. Looking at my freshman self and looking at myself now, in comparison, is quite amusing. And once again,

I like to look back to those times and see where I have come from those.

I have grown.

I am a different person.

Lastly, like I said, August is that time just before autumn when the cicadas start screaming their melodies in the oak tree behind our house. It's that time when you can just feel autumn coming. Although the weather doesn't seem to speak of its coming, I can just imagine the feeling of warm plaid shirts and sweaters, of my knee socks and blankets. I can imagine the cozy feeling of drinking apple cider out on the back porch, huddled up in a ball, sipping the spicy scent, wearing wool socks and a ridiculously large sweater, and watching the leaves change from green to yellow and fall to the ground. I love how the seasons reflect life. In nature there is a constant living and dying, and beginning of new things and ending of old ones. And it makes me think about our own lives. The fleeting senior year will soon turn to yellow leaves, and will fall slowly (or perhaps quickly depending on how much I procrastinate on graduation and college business) until every last hint of my life in high school is gone. Yet I'll still be there, ready to grow again in whatever lies ahead.
In August, I'll think about those things.

In August, I'll imagine the hearty taste of butternut squash filled with sausage and apples.

In August, I'll remember where I've come from and where God has brought me.

In August, I'll remember the feeling of warm socks and sweaters.

In August, I'll remember the scents I smell when I get pumpkins at Fresh Market.

In August, I'll remember the sight of the brightest blue sky.
In August, I'll prepare for the things that will one day be nostalgic remembrances.

In August, I'll remember skipping down the street singing Josh Bales and watching the leaves.

In August, I'll remember autumn. I'll remember change. I'll remember.

Past Augusts have brought a lot of things that have tried to bring me down. But this August, I'll remember how those things, in the end, brought me up.

"The first week of August hangs at the very top of 

summer,

the top of the live-long year, like the highest

Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.

The weeks that come before are only a climb from

balmy spring,

and those that follow a drop to the 

chill of autumn,

but the first week of August is motionless, and hot.

It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns

and glaring noons,

and sunsets smeared with too much color.

Often at night there is lightning,

but it quivers all alone."

-Natalie Babbitt 

The Blank Page

I sit in any room full with kids from the age of 14 to the age of 24. The auditorium is nearly silent except for the one person standing up at the front. Everyone's eyes are on that one person. All ears are listening (except a select few who got too little sleep the night before). The room is hushed. Then the speaker begins to talk. The blank page resting on three metal rings begins to be scribbled on furiously as the speaker gives the most important of information.
Suddenly all the kids are hearing information on ethics, worldview, ideas. Cosmic humanism, secular humanism, postmodernism, and many other worldviews are thrown at us. We wrestle with the idea of atheism, of abortion, and many other topics. The blank pages in the notebook are suddenly filled with ideas that had occurred to nearly no one in the room. Suddenly, all seems instantly clear.
Those blank pages become filled with why we believe what we believe.
Because ideas have consequences.
And if ideas have consequences, we better be well sure we know why we believe what we believe.
And as the hundreds of students sit in the large auditorium, we begin to hear these ideas explained.
This, my friends, is called The Summit.

Summertime Goodness

 And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees,

just as things grow in fast movies,

I had that familiar conviction that life was

beginning over again with the summer.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

It's full-fledged summer. In fact, you might almost say that summer is dieing off. I rather wish it would... despite my adoration of river-swimming, sun-bathing, and iced-chai-tea-latte-drinking habits, I can't help but desire my lovely autumn days in October.
However, I have enjoyed this summer a great deal more than past summers. Things have been delightfully laid back. I have enjoyed my Starbucks ice cream, loads of books, swimming, stormy afternoons, and even my schoolwork a great deal. Things have been a lovely shade of sepia with all the heat, but it's quite lovely. I love watching God's artistry throughout the year, and summer is quite beautiful.
I suppose this summer has been more beautiful than past summers, to me, because I have actually engaged myself in doing things that seem summerish. My first act was to go swimming with a few of my buddies and jump off of what seemed like a ridiculously tall tree into a ridiculously terrifying river (of which I have footage, but alas cannot find the cord to my old camera to upload it to my computer). I have gone to the river a couple more times, and honestly I can't say many other things in life make me more happy. Going to a river to swim seems like the epitome of summer activities. Besides, I'm doing it with my favorite people, so why shouldn't I be perfectly, splendidly happy?
I have also spent a great deal of time this summer being productive. In my past summers, I've been completely lazy and spent most of my time on the computer doing unproductive things. But I decided this summer that I would be at least slightly productive some of the time. I have rediscovered my love and adoration of reading. Honestly, the past year I haven't had time or desire to read. After Winston died last summer, I had a hard time taking interest in most things for a long time. When I did, I found myself slapped in the face with the realization that I had to begin studying for APs and the SAT. Really life? But I have begun to read again, and I have decided this is an activity I'm not apt to give up again any time soon.
I've also purposed myself to begin writing a great deal. I have been journaling more than I have in over a year, and have enjoyed it a great deal. I've also begun the rumblings of a story, but we'll see if that ever finishes itself. In any case, I have enjoyed writing a great deal. (and in fact, I would have written more on this blog had my laptop not given up the ghost, causing me to rely nearly solely on an iPad, on which it is nearly impossible to type)
Most of all, I have spent a great deal of time with my family and friends, which is more important to me than anything. Along with river swimming, I've gone to a frozen yogurt place with my mom several times, gotten chai tea lattes from Starbucks nearly every Sunday (and been greeted by the same awesome guy who asks me about Algebra 2 nearly every Sunday), watched fireworks with my friends, spent entire days tramping around in the woods and creek with my boyfriend while discussing deep and intellectual topics, talking about books and fashion with my best friends, talking with my soon-to-be-off-to-college brother until three in the morning, and other such pleasantries. I dearly love doing anything with my friends. And coming to the realization that four of my favorite people are soon to be off to college is indeed a daunting idea, and one that scares me and saddens me a great deal. My brother and cousin will soon be off two hours away doing their college-y things. Thus, watching She's the Man in my cousin's back yard at midnight with just a couple of sleeping bags or cutting up politically correct fruit salad with her is not exactly a strange or rare thing.
As you can see, summer to me means relaxing. It means enjoying God's beauty that He made for His glory to the full extent. It means laughing with my friends and watching my brother's face light up in a ridiculously luminescent way when he talks about The Dark Knight Rises. It means floating in tubes down a river and jumping off fifteen foot high trees into the murky water and mud below. It means pouring over a book while sitting on my bed, listening to the rain slapping and jumping off the leaves outside my window. It means playing on a playground and getting soaked with a hose while jumping on the blazing, colorful apparatus displayed out there. It means taping mustaches to my face with one of my best friends and taking stupid pictures that make us look like female versions of Poirot. It means sitting at my best friends' house with the power out, reading one liners from books in a circle and making everyone crack up.
It means summer.
Summer perfection.