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 

Summertime Journaling

I love writing at any time of the year. Different seasons put me in different moods to write in different styles. Summer always puts me in a laid-back kind of feel, and my journaling strongly reflects that. As I was sitting up late one night a few days ago, I wrote this:

"It's 1:17 in the morning, and life is a virtual popsicle. Except filled with the most lovely feeling the heart can't describe. I'm sitting here listening to my favorite Alison Krauss songs, and it brings me back to being a little kid. It reminds me of riding in the back of Dad's black truck down a country road, or of driving through the Smokies at dusk. It brings me back to my five year old days. It makes me feel young. And sometimes it feels good to feel like a little kid again. Being reminded of being young makes me feel trusting. It makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like that country girl whose mind didn't wander very far past the oak tree in the back yard. The feeling I get is one I can't quite capture in words found in Webster's. It's an earthy, real feeling. It's beautiful, almost mysterious, in a very simple, understandable way. It makes my heart go crazy, while making my mind so peaceful that I feel like a mist hanging over pines in the mountains. I want so badly to capture this feeling in a song, but I can't write a song. I want to write poetry, a story, something. But not all things are intended for words."

I love summer.
I love watching fireworks while listening to Anberlin.
I love reading books on a stormy afternoon.
I love swimming at the river with my friends on a Saturday.
I love eating watermelon and strawberries.
I love going to coffee shops and frozen yogurt places with my mom.
I love eating green beans picked an hour beforehand from the garden.
But mostly I just love writing about how much I love these things in my journal.
Summertime is good.