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.

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 

Graduation - The Times are Changing

This past Saturday was the day of our home school group's graduation. I've been looking forward to this day for weeks now, and I have gotten really excited as the time approached. Graduation brings about a feeling of nostalgia for the past, excitement for the future, and joy about being done with high school forevverrr. (heaven knows some of us get more excited about that than others) Even though I was not graduating this year and didn't experience as much as the people who were, it still instilled that feeling in me a little bit, and I began to ponder the implications of graduating, and my own personal experience of graduation that will occur next year.
This year I am proud to say that my brother graduated as salutatorian of the home school class, and my cousin, Macy, and one of my best friends, Drew, graduated as honor students. I was so excited for them, but at the same time I'm quite sad. My brother and my cousin are going to schools about two hours away from here. Drew will be staying here for another year at a community college, but he's planning on going to a great school about an hour or so away from here the next year. I'm going to be so lonely without these three, because besides a couple of other people, they are my core group of friends and I love them more than anyone in the world. I was excited for them, but at the same time I can't help but feel a bit sad about the thought of them leaving in a couple of months.

However, that being said, I was honestly surprised at my lack of sadness. Yes, I was sad, and I felt a bit nostalgic, but I was amazed that I didn't feel more so. I was honestly expecting to write this post today about how sad it was to see them graduate, how I cried, how I couldn't believe they would be leaving soon, how much I'd miss them, etc. etc. However, I find myself today thinking about something entirely different. Something I wasn't expecting to feel. Something I didn't see coming, until it slowly smacked me in the face (an oxymoron, but trust me, it makes sense): this is coming for me. Now I know that I've written a couple of posts on this recently, but I can't help but write another one. It seems lately that different things will just smack me upside the head and I suddenly realize that certain things will be reality for me soon. In my Father of the Bride post, I referenced how that movie suddenly made me think about leaving, about how soon I'd be leaving to go to college and then leaving my home permanently to get married. Those things are very strange to ponder indeed. But at graduation, things got even more real. Suddenly I realized there were things even closer than leaving for college and getting married. I suddenly realized that literally within a matter of two or three months, I will begin the process that my brother just ended. Spencer began his college searching process last fall, and it didn't end until a couple of months ago. Not only that, he has been working on finishing last minute work for school, studying for last APs and tests, etc. I've just seen him go through the whole process of finishing high school. And mine begins within a matter of about twelve weeks.
In some ways, I felt the premature rumblings of senioritis begin yesterday, as I saw nearly all of my best friends graduating. Suddenly realizing that I, too, was nearly there, made me want to jump ahead a year and be graduating as well. It's so crazy to think that within a year, I'll know where I'm going to college. I might have even graduated by this time next year. All my favorite things from high school will be over: mock trial, prom (and my senior prom at that), the Christmas dance, Chick-fil-a after youth group with my buddies, chorus, Toastmasters, and all the little things that make up my school life. And yet, at that point, I'll be doing little but looking forward to my future: college, majors, classes, new friends, orientation, professors, and all those lovely things. It's so strange... I'm starting to feel a nostalgia for things that haven't even happened yet, and yet I'm so ready for those things to be over with.
I know that senior year will fly by, but somehow all of it seems so far away. When I think about how fast my junior year has gone by, I know that senior year will go by even more quickly. But then when I think about the individual experiences that make up a school year, it seems like it will be so long until it's over. Funny how days and little experiences drag on in life and in your memories, but years fly by like a gale of a thunderstorm.
I can't begin to express how excited I have suddenly become for senior year. I have suddenly realized that it is actually beginning soon, and I suddenly realize that everything Spencer has just done is my life for the next year. Doing last credits. Taking last AP tests. Taking the SAT for the last time. Finalizing college decisions. Applying for scholarships. Waiting in hope of that letter that will say that you're accepted, over even better, that you have a scholarship in wait of you at the college you're dieing to attend. Those things are big deals. Those things will shape my future. And just thinking that those things are awaiting me in a matter of two months makes me want to scream and shout and ponder and think and completely weird out that I'm "old."

Graduation brought an onset of the weirdest emotions possible.
Excitement for things I can't wait for.
Terror of things that might happen.
Anticipation of the things yet to come.
Graduation is an exciting time.
I'm ready for mine now.

City Places and High-Rise Spaces

I'll admit it wholeheartedly and without shame: I'm a city girl.

Despite my country girl tendencies to want to constantly have dirt under my finger nails from gardening, enjoying growing my own food, loving walking through fields and forests, loving hiking through miles of mountains, and wanting to live in a cottage in the middle of a pine forest, I have far more city tendencies than country tendencies.

I live in a lovely city, however it isn't the kind of city that I so much prefer. I love big cities. Flashing lights and skyscrapers, eclectic people groups and styles, museums and history on every corner; indeed, cities are my favorite and always will be.

I don't get to go to real big cities very often; perhaps two to four times a year. But I will spring at any chance I can possibly get to see the city skyline of some lovely place like Chicago. In April, I got the chance to go to a big city. The big city of the South: Atlanta. I go to Atlanta relatively frequently, but its almost never just to hang out and have fun. However, this time it was. My cousin, Macy, is a senior in high school this year and she wanted to have a senior trip. The destination: Atlanta.

Macy discovered a month or so ago that The Fox Theatre would soon be presenting Les Miserables, so she bought tickets for four, and we planned a trip up to Atlanta.

We arrived in Atlanta late in the afternoon on a day in late April, and went up to our hotel, which was right across the street from the Fox. Macy and I, admittedly, are not exactly used to acting upscale, high class, and rich. Trying to pull it off when walking in and seeing this was difficult:

As neat as I suppose it would be to be truly swanky, I don't think it would be nearly as much fun. When you're rich and often exposed to fancy architecture and cool big city adventures, I suppose things like this wouldn't take your breath away as much. You wouldn't take as much pleasure in it. So although I may want to act swanky, I don't think I ever would want to be that way.

We walked into the hotel, dressed up for our night at the Fox. I always greatly appreciate going into places like this, because I get to see those truly big city people. Somehow I think I've always had a fantasy about being the wife of a big-business, big-city guy and being that woman who walks around in her business skirt and black pumps in fancy hotels. And in this kind of hotel, you see those kinds of women. I've always loved how neat and professional they look, and imagined that I myself might be that schnazzy one day.

These nice, lovely men carried our bags upstairs for us (so nice to not have to drag my hundred pound bag stuffed with half of my belongings up 14 floors), and we got to look around our hotel room a bit before heading out to dinner.

{this was just the living room. we also had a kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms!}

After examining our room, we went downstairs to go find a restaurant. Once outside, we walked in a big circle only to come back around to the front of our hotel, when we saw an Italian restaurant diagonally across from our hotel, and decided to head in there since we had almost no time to eat before the show. Once we got in, we had to wait for a while, but once we got our seat, everything was super quick. Our waiter was a nice young man who was very professional and quick to make sure we got our meal and got out the door before the show started. I ordered the best salad I've ever had in my life. Most restaurants? Hello cheap iceberg salad. This restaurant? I got the fanciest salad made entirely of arugula with this awesome lemon dressing on top with cheese and some other fancy toppings. It was delish, and I have to admit, I felt pretty schmancy eating an arugula salad. 

After we finished eating, we walked up half a block at the most to the Fox theatre, and sat down probably 20 seconds after the show had started - we barely made it in time. It was absolutely excellent! Despite the fact that we were sitting in nearly the back of the theatre, it was a wonderful show. The singers were incredibly talented and the props and movement were wonderful. Eponine was definitely my favorite, tho  Jean Valjean can hardly be ignored. Everyone was absolutely wonderful!

However, after a three hour long show, I was quite ready to be headed back to the hotel, which thankfully was right across the street. We headed upstairs and Macy and I got some pictures outside on our three inch wide balcony that we could barely fit on.

The next morning Macy and I had planned on going up to the roof top pool and swimming for a while, but we had gotten to bed so late after the show we just slept late. After we got up we headed downstairs to a restaurant they have in the hotel, whose fruit, I might add, was delicious but ridiculously overpriced. Despite their overpriced fruit, everything was amazing; I had the most delicious french toast I've ever had in my life, and I even tried a raspberry for the first time. (and yes, I hated it. seriously, who eats those things?)

We sat outside for a bit and then we went up to the rooftop pool. It was quite lovely: there was a pool in the lower part, and then you could walk up a few stairs for a spectacular view of midtown Atlanta. We were quite close to the tallest building in Atlanta which excited me profusely. I do love skyscrapers quite a lot. Macy and I proceeded to take several pictures up there as well:

After our adventures up on the rooftop (and as Macy and I will both attest, there were indeed some adventures ;), we went back down to our room to pack up and head out. I must say I'll miss that hotel more than almost any hotel I've had the pleasure of staying in. Especially considering the fact that one of my favorite authors, F. Scott Fitzgerald, had stayed in it once. I do love old, swanky hotels.

After heading out of the hotel, we proceeded over to The World of Coke, where we tried a ridiculous amount of flavors of Coke products from around the world, most of which, I must add, were absolutely repulsive. I think I'll stick with my every day bottle of Coke.

We grabbed lunch (and got to watch a bunch of people learning how to ride a segway.... and as Macy so astutely put it, they looked like rolly pollies) and then went to Dillards to shop a bit. I found a really cute dress in the junior's dress department which I got for eighteen bucks. My thrifty mother has taught me well. I know a deal when I see one, and getting a dance dress for eighteen bucks is most *definitely* a deal.

After our outing at Dillards, we decided it was about time to head back. But before we did, we stopped at a Midtown Starbucks (um. can we say dream work place?) to grab a snack and some coffee. I got my usual iced chai tea latte, and my mom and I split our usual old fashioned doughnut. We sat outside and snagged a few more pictures before heading out:

 {I think at this point I was catching on to the whole swanky thing.

Don't you think?

really?

No?

okay...}

After our adventure to Starbucks and getting wind blown into our face, coffee, and food, we headed back out. We had had a lovely time, and I'm not sorry to admit that I pined away for at least fifteen minutes about wanting to live in a high rise apartment.

In fact, I determined after leaving that once I finish college, I'm going to live in a high rise apartment in Atlanta, get a cat and name it Cashmere, work in a Starbucks, and go to art museums all the time. Good? Good.

As strange as I might sound when I refer to Atlanta and any big city, it really can be explained. I lived the majority of my life in two ugly little towns. However, when I was seven or eight, a love for big cities and travel entered my brain, and ever since it has grown. Going to Chicago when I was eight didn't help anything. I remember that vacation as the best one I ever had. From a young age my love for travel has grown, and my love for travel includes big cities. 

Big cities have some kind of a hold on me. Like I said previously, although I do have some country girl tendencies, the big city has some sort of grasp on me. I can't explain what it is exactly. I've always loved different cultures, ideas, and fashion, so I know that that is part of it. But there seems some kind of mystery of a big city: how everything and everyone fits together in some ridiculous yet artful conglomeration. How history, art, culture, ideas, businesses, celebrities, average Joes, music, and life somehow mix into this great place where skyscrapers abound and there is never a moment when there isn't some movement of life. 

I suppose that is part of why I love a big city so much. Everything and everyone is always on the move. It's in a constant state of change. And although I don't like some change, I do love other kinds. The kinds you see in cities. New ideas, new faces, new opportunities springing up on every corner of the sidewalk. Inspiration galore. It's a lovely place for an aspiring writer, photographer, and art historian to be. 

A big city, to me, is a piece of art in and of itself. Art tends to revolve around a story, history, an idea, a person. A big city revolves around all of those things and then some. It's abounding with all of them, and coming up with new ones every day.

Big cities are lovely places. They will always have a hold on me. They will always catch my eye. They will always make me want to hold on to them a little bit longer, explore them a little bit more, and watch the movement pass by. Those movements pass every moment and if you don't catch them at that exact second, they'll be gone forever. Oh the moments of a big city: they're entrancing and beautiful. Elegant and mysterious. And if no one else misses them, I will. I'll wish I had seen them before they passed. I'll wish I had been there before they were gone. But I'll imagine them. Wish for them. And perhaps one day, I'll create some of those little moments that make up a big city. 

Every city is a living body.
{st. augustine} 

Father of the Bride & Leaving - BEDA #6

This movie has been one of my favorites for years. And over the years it has been one of my favorites for different reasons. When I was younger, I loved this movie so much because it made me laugh incessantly and was so true to life. It was a sweet story and the acting was good. I really liked it for those reasons.
But now it's for an entirely different reason. It's because I actually am starting to understand the feelings that are shown in the movie. I understand the pain of the prospect of leaving, but the excitement of a new life.

My favorite movie is Father of the Bride.




I watched this movie just last night. But this time with new eyes. Of course I've recently begun to relate to it more and more as I've gotten older, but last night, as I watched it by myself without the company of others and without feeling weird to reacting to it naturally, I suddenly found myself wanting to cry in so many parts. I realized that I understood how Annie feels as she describes to George that she does want to marry Brian, but she doesn't want to leave home. How she is trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she's leaving.

Although I'm not engaged nor am I even with a year or two of getting married, I somehow comprehended a little bit how she is supposed to feel. I felt a nervousness and excitement in the pit of my stomach and tears started welling up in my eyes as the scene changed to the wedding scene above. I have realized recently that I am getting older. I will be a senior this fall. I'll be in college next year. I expect to finish college early and I hope and pray I get married soon after. And thinking about all of these adventures I'm about to embark on suddenly sets me on edge. It makes me so excited and yet so nervous.

I love my family and I love my home. But I know soon it will be time for me to go to college. To get married. To form my own family. And when I consider these prospects, I start freaking out. At the age of eight, I obviously considered these ideas: oh yeah, I'll go to college one day. Oh yeah, I'll get married one day. Oh yeah, I'll have kids one day. But suddenly, eight years later, I realize these things aren't just fairy tales that live off in the distant land called the future. Suddenly I realize these things are reality. They're coming soon. I hope to be done with college and married within the next five or six years. Five years ago, I was nearly twelve. And twelve seems but just a couple of seconds ago. Which means in just a couple of seconds I'll be out on my own. And that scares me a little.

However, as much as I say I'm scared, I can't forget that feeling of excitement I get in my soul whenever I think about these things. They're scary, sure, but they're exciting as well. They're new promises. They're a new life. Soon I'll be out in the real world. I'll have to deal with the things that my parents have taken care of without me noticing for the past 16 years of my life. Life will be... well... life. But it will be different.

Obviously, I've considered college and marriage. But when I actually think about them, in a realistic sense, like "This is actually going to happen to me," that's when I really start getting excited and nervous. Like I said, at the age of eight, these things were in far of lands. They seemed like they would never reach me. And I was content playing video games and Legos with my brother, writing in my journal about the great injustices that came along with being eight and the huge crushes I had on guys, reading Anne of Green Gables and wishing I was her, scrapbooking and rubber stamping and doing anything and everything my mom did because she automatically made it cool, daydreaming about these things in the back of my mind, never really considering their reality in life. But now I see that they are real. And they really will happen to me. They're not just going to happen to my friends and acquaintances. They're going to happen to me. They'll really happen. And they're not just in movies that I've always loved so much. Like Father of the Bride.

And I guess that is what brings me back to why I love Father of the Bride so much. It is so true to life. Okay, so maybe the superfluous buns and jail part is a little over the top, but in general. -wink- But it really captures the feelings that we as humans have in these huge life experiences. It doesn't over-dramatize the feelings and experiences. It offers true to life stuff. The good and bad. The stress. But the eventual happiness. And I like that. I like that it gives off such an honest feel.
Leaving is part of life.
Leaving is painful.
But leaving also offers good things in exchange.
And despite the nervousness the idea of all of these things bring to me,
it brings me excitement for the promise of good things too.
And I like that.