Beauty?

Hey guys! I have some news to share with you. Recently, I’ve decided to change.

You know how I was just talking about being self-aware and critical of our own habits? Yeah. Well, in the past, I’d been considering this idea since before I wrote that post. And I had discovered something about myself that I’d never noted before. I’d like to tell you about it, because it really kinda rocked my world.

It happened when I was in the midst of my morning routine. My fingers were still tingling from when I had smashed them into my phone only a few minutes before in customary response to my shrieking alarm. I flopped out of bed, washed my face, and had managed to successfully prop myself in front of the mirror in my room. I typically do this in order to laugh at my zombie-fied reflection until the bleariness clears from my eyes. It’s the best way to ensure that I don’t completely phase out, miss my eye with my mascara brush, and draw sweeping black lines across my temples. Who knows? Maybe that’ll become the hottest trend soon. Though I can’t say I aspire to be the one who starts it.

So anyway, I was sitting in front of the mirror with mascara wand in hand for a solid five minutes or so, lost in thought, dazedly attempting to blink my eyes into submission. But it was only when I had leaned forward, elbow crooked and suspended, ready to lower my eyelashes into the stiff, glossy black bristles of the brush that I was hit with an overwhelming wave of amusement. I jerked my head back and glanced at the shimmery goo I was holding so strategically in front of my face.

This… is… ridiculous, I thought, What on earth am I doing?

I dropped my pose and giggled. Yet as I momentarily sat back in my seat and surveyed my reflection, I felt a peculiar thought wiggle out of the back of my subconscious and hit my brain with a resounding splat.

I’m making myself pretty. I’m nearly 17 years old, of course I’m going to wear makeup. This is the most I can physically do to get close to being as beautiful as everyone else. No makeup = me looking like a little hobo kid. This is just what girls do, right?

Right?

Right?

Um. Right. So, okay. This is normal. This is just what I need to do to look presentable in public. But then… why does it now feel so silly to me?

Guys, I couldn’t figure it out. I soon gave up trying to work up the inspiration to complete the task at hand and trudged downstairs to eat breakfast. But this idea stayed with me all day long, bumping and turning around in my head until I finally grasped it that night. And when I did, it blew my mind.

I had seriously come to believe that I am incapable of being noticeable until I smear black paste into my eyelashes. I have urgently felt the need to emphasize my eyes in black in order to gain confidence in comparison to the girls around me.

Okay, hold on.

How did I come to accept the belief that I’m not naturally pretty enough?

By comparing myself to others.

Hm. Sketchy.

So by wearing makeup, does that show that I’m discontent with how I really am?

Guess so.

Now, what does this mean about my subconscious purpose in life? If I invest time into doing it, I must have a reason in doing so that I consider to be worthwhile. So what do I mean to accomplish? What does any girl mean to accomplish by wearing makeup?

I could only find one main answer: attention from boys.

I mean, there is a degree of acceptance that you get from girls automatically if you look pretty, as opposed to if you don’t. People in general are inherently that shallow. But I digress.

I don’t want to be physically attractive to boys. I don’t. Yeah yeah, the results are flattering, but only until the unnecessary flirtation kicks in. So obnoxious.

See, as far as I’m concerned, I’m not here on this planet right now to physically attract boys to myself. I’m here to be their sister. Any chance of extra attraction just gets in the way of genuine friendship. Friendships that actually last go deeper than outside appearances. I want to do all I can to make sure a guy will find my personality alone my most attractive feature. And what’s the only way I can try to make that possible?

By simply being the best me I can manage.

 

No fake beauty features, no silly lines to make my eyes look brighter than they are. Just me. And if people accept me as I truly am, I’ll be grateful. If they reject me because my appearance may be sub-par in the attractiveness department when compared to the ever-changing standards of the world, I’ll know right off the silliness of their true character and save a bunch of time. Either way, I’m happy. Heck, maybe a guy will find my real face attractive anyway. Stuff happens. But at least I’ll know that it wasn’t a reaction I tried to encourage, you know?

So until my convictions change, I wouldn’t expect to see any extra dark shades gracing my eyelids any time soon. Sure, makeup is fun to wear on special occasions, but apart from that, I really have no use for it. Call me old-fashioned, call me silly. But I’m content with the body I was given. And I don’t intend on pretending to have much of anything else!

Before I stop, I have one last thing left to say. This is for my girls out there. Listen, dear. You don’t need anything but your personality to get what you truly need from the world. I’d like to encourage you to do all you can to let it stand alone and see how that action makes you feel. You might see more of your true self than you ever have before. Just try it out. Be strong.

Hearts. ❤

A Portrait of Society.

Society is a beast.

Into where do we invest our creative energy?

Society.

From where do we gain inspiration to form our own standards?

Society.

You could debate me on this if you’d like, but I’m convinced it’s from the people around us. We call ourselves individuals… but honestly, guys, at base value, we’re just a mish-mash of the things and people we’re exposed to every day. And what is the source of these exposures?

Society.

Now listennn. This is only natural, so don’t go all hipster-mob on me and get offended that I’m questioning your uniqueness. Everyone works this way. Ever since we were babies, if not simply processing, we’ve been imitating everything we witness. Experimenting, sampling, experiencing; this is life.

However! However. There is one enormous thing that makes you the only you in the universe: the extent and manner in which you interact with this world. Some people come to adopt and emulate the patterns of their society faster than others. Some question and test the validity behind these trends more than their peers.

As citizens, we’re exposed to social trends every day. They are sold to us nearly everywhere we go. Pressure to buy and adapt to them is the scariest thing I’ve yet discovered about living in modern-day America. I feel most comfortable when I am allowed time to weigh and form definitive opinions before I allow certain influences into my life. But with all the trends bouncing around and within my little corner of the world, it’s hard to do this effectively. Freaks.me.out.

Okay, okay. Let me stop and clarify. I realize I’m equating society with media and popular (or “pop”) culture, but in all honesty, I believe they’re entirely the same thing. They’re far too interrelated to be individual bodies. Definition time!

Society: n. a part of a community that is a unit distinguishable by particular aims or standards of living or conduct.

Media: n. the means of communication, as radio and television, newspapers, and magazines that reach or influence people widely.

Popular culture: n. contemporary lifestyle and items that are well known and generally accepted; cultural patterns that are widespread within a population.

So you see, as defined, a society cannot exist unless it is characterized by a unique, distinguishable form of popular culture which becomes “popular” through being introduced, spread, and communicated to the public by the media. For better or worse, these elements work together to build and uphold a society according to common interest. And “common” interest is just another word for the interest of the majority.

We all have a desire for fulfillment. I don’t mean to say that all aspects of mainstream society are negative, it’s just that… well… there are so many. Everywhere. And it’s hard to narrow down which ones are okay to accept and which ones aren’t, since many trends show striking similarities that aren’t quite so nice.

Here’s where we find the problem. The “Just live for the moment! You’re only young for so long! You deserve to have everything you want and more!” mantra has been chorused from almost every electronic screen and modern publication ever created. It’s from this mother-of-a-headache mentality that all the trends we see today are born. We’re conditioned to expect it. Regardless of how superficial the fix, we tend to chase it. It feels good. In this way, media has spread and invaded everything, growing into an industry titan. Magazines, movies, music… you can’t escape the screaming propaganda.

You and I? We’re directly in the line of fire, kid.

And this is where my concern lies.

See, I feel like we’ve all become so enamored with input, we’ve lost touch with our own consequential output. It’s terrifying to consider. We don’t think to predict our behavior or conjecture how these facets of society will move us when we adopt them. I don’t think we even consciously consider the reasons behind why we accept them. They’re just too overwhelming. We don’t have the energy to analyze each bombardment of new ideas as they come. So they become the new normal. And we get what we have here today.

The fact that I have to fight off all these dangerous voices on a day-to-day basis disgusts me; the twisted, intricate dance of modern comparative securities makes me dizzy. My brain wasn’t made for these gymnastics. I’m a fan of absolutes. Show me the genuine identities. Find me the honesty. Where do I find the Nutrition Facts on this mass of propaganda and influence? If I consume this product of society, what should I expect?

I’m very impressionable. I like liking things. It’s a bittersweet complex. But as a result, the only security I can cling to is founded in all the stubbornly objective perspectives I can muster. I try my best to keep knowledge of the blatant hypocrisy and superficiality of pop culture’s expectations at the forefront of my mental filter. Mostly because… well, I’m scared of conforming without noticing. When I look at my society, I see emptiness. I don’t want to get pulled into that trap by my own human nature. I think you might feel the same way.

So what are we going to do? We’re kinda low on the society food chain. We can’t change anything very big. Not yet. But we can start by changing ourselves.

Be self-aware. Objectively look at who you truly are every once in a while. Look at particular dominate qualities of yourself and question why you act that way. The instant you find a part of you that exists for reasons of pride or self-gain, tackle that thing with every ounce of will-power you’ve got and find its source.

Don’t try to conform to every empty fad of society. They have nothing for us. We don’t need the society’s vices to give us fulfillment. We’ve got our stubborn convictions. And we ain’t budgin’. Let’s give the media the toughest jury board of critics it’s ever seen.

Hearts. ❤

*like*

Hey. Hey, generation. Listen here for a sec. I have a secret for you.

We… are so lame.

Aha.

Do you know why? Honey, I’m gonna tell you.

What would appeal more to us teens than the chance to edit everything we say before we say it, to plan how we appear to others, to know what people think of what we say or how we look and if they “like” it?

I think you understand where I’m going with this. My case in point:

Oooh, shocker. I know you saw that coming.

Haha, here’s my thing. I’ve been analyzing us, guys, as usual. Except my current subject of interest is our common obsession with Facebook.

Subconsciously or not, I think I’ve deduced our reasons for even moderately enjoying our fine eight-lettered friend.

We hold our notifications in such high regard. It’s pretty ridiculous. And you know it. When you see that little red box pop up, the number inside of it determines how loved you feel. Facebook explicitly fulfills that acceptance factor in our circle of friends. I mean, come on, the “like” button?

“Aw, he ‘likes’ how I look in this picture.”

“They ‘like’  what I just did!”

“Hey, she ‘likes’  the same song lyrics I do!”

Uh. Yeah.

Acceptance. As mundane as it may be, this effects us. A lot.

And the comment option. Don’t you wish all the time that in real life you could read what someone thinks about what you say? Even the tiniest bit?

You got it.

Sure, it’s not all the time precisely what people are thinking, but we don’t care. At least they took the time to say something about what you just said.

Here, why do we post on Facebook about being sick? For the “DISLIKE. [sad face]” or “Aw, hope you get better soon!”, right?

Why do we post emotional song lyrics or dramatic status updates? To see something… anything, really, that shows people care about us.

Sympathy for the insecure teen.  And acceptance, dear. See?

We’re all insecure, but Facebook provides a place to alleviate a bit of that. Even though it’s virtual, it’s enough.

Mmm, and about the whole virtual thing. It is so comfortable to hide behind a screen. Hey, you pick your profile picture, love. And don’t get me started on emoticons.

How do you want to be seen by your peers?

For example, you could create a Facebook for yourself, make your profile name “Richard Smith”, put up a picture of a random middle-aged man as your profile picture, and completely pretend to be that person, easily. I… don’t know exactly why you’d do that, but for illustration’s sake, stick with me.

Do you realize how it is just as easy to be your ideal personality on Facebook? We can delete photos we don’t like of us or “Untag” ourselves from them. We can delete comments we regret saying right after posting them. We can choose our “friends”.

Do you see how this appeals to us?

Facebook, chat, and texting, however useful, have depreciated what we consider to be communication in this day and age. That’s my opinion and I’m stickin’ to it.

Maybe you already know all I’ve said. Don’t get me wrong, I think Facebook has potentially great useful properties. I’m not exactly against it. This particular post has no bearing on anything but your perspective.

Here’s what you can do. Instead of planning a chat meeting, have coffee together sometime. Or if you don’t live near enough to each other, get together on Skype or Oovoo. That’s about as personal as the internet gets these days.  The phone always works too, you know. Remember? That cell phone makes actual calls IN ADDITION to texts. Crazy stuff.

Help bring back the value of face-to-face communication, darlin’. Limit the Facebook-to-Facebook kind.

Hearts. ❤

How am I?

Have you noticed how everyone, friends, acquaintances, even the cashier at the grocery check-out will ask you how you’re doing? Do most people care? No. Then why do they ask?

Ah, societal codes. It’s just the thing to do. If you don’t do it, you’re considered unfriendly. And most people just do it automatically anyway. So now it means nothing, really.

Like many things, I find this sick and wrong. And I’ve been almost totally oblivious to it until just recently.

I went to Youth Group one recent Sunday with a tremendous emptiness in my heart. I can’t explain it, and I know it sounds melodramatic, but I just felt this ache that I felt so helpless to get rid of, but I didn’t know what it was or how to fix it. All the same, though, I went that night to Youth Group and performed my usual social rounds, asking the same instinctive, superficial questions and answering them in the same exact expected way- “How are you? I’m doing really well! Okay… good to talk to you! Bye!”

Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends more than life itself. Wait a sec for me to explain.

After a particularly convicting lesson by the speaker that night, I was more than a bit shaken up, but continued to seek out any people I missed beforehand. I came to one of my closer friends there. I hadn’t talked to him in a while, so I went up to him to give him a hug and ask him too how he was doing. Guess how he responded.

Not a “Great!” or “Really good!” accompanied by a cheery grin that everyone else had.

But a small smile, an apologetic shrug, and “I’ve been better.”

Haha, I nearly cried. But I bit back the tears and smirked, probably kinda crookedly, and managed to croak out a “Hey. Same here.”

He may have noticed something, or maybe not. But when I met his eyes again, there was something in them that made me terrified of starting a torrential downpour of tears that I couldn’t stop. Even though I so wanted to elaborate and just spill my guts about how screwed up I felt, I was bitter-sweetly relieved when another friend of ours came up and changed the conversation from my brief yet painfully rambling explanation. The distraction gave me a chance to pull myself together and paste my smile-mask back on again. The night went on, it ended, and here I am today.

The kid who inspired this post, if you’re reading this, thank you. You don’t know how much that meant! Love you, dear.

I don’t know exactly why this experience meant so much to me. Maybe because it displayed the openness I knew friendships were about. And I was too scared to share my issues with others while I felt so vulnerable. Something like that, I suppose. I’m not normally an emotional person at all. Really. And that’s why this sudden urge to start blubbering like a little kid scared me so much.

Hey, I will tell you now, I hate admitting that I’m having issues or that I feel out of control. I’m not the kind of person that regularly talks about their problems, even with my closest friends. I like to fancy myself a support person, not one who needs support.

When this friend of mine honestly spoke exactly what I was feeling, it struck me how many other kids lie through their smiles the same way I do.

Do you understand what I’m getting at? I don’t think I need to explain myself further. Just listen, please.

Actually care about the answer when you ask someone how they are. And be honest about your own feelings. You need people to pray for you. People want to pray for you. If you tell someone right off that things aren’t all cool with you, it’s likely they’ll be taken aback. It’s simply not done nowadays. Your fellow Americans assume that you don’t care about them any more than the dead-pan cashiers at their local grocery store. Prove them wrong by your example. Show them that you need them.

And if you know me in person, which you probably do, when I ask you how you’re doing, I want you to meet my eyes and tell me the truth.  Please. It matters a lot to me. Or even if we’re talking on chat or email or anything, honestly let me know what’s going on if stuff isn’t cool with you. It doesn’t have to be too detailed if you don’t feel comfortable, but even a simple, “I’ve been better” would give me enough to pray about.

Care, my dear. I certainly do.

Hearts. ❤

Fishing For Men

Ahhh, the good old-fashioned fun of “innocent flirting”. Teens, adults…. even the odd senior citizen (this is disturbing but not rare) flirt. Most of the time, it’s harmless and it can be kind of hilarious too, as long as everyone understands it’s all just a joke.

I guess my biggest issue with this involves my generation. Why do teens seriously flirt? What’s the point? What are they accomplishing?

I will tell you. Through my typical merciless psychoanalysis. And a series of sah-nazzy numbered lists.

Why.

1. It’s artificial security, my dear. An abbreviated relationship with minimal responsibility.

2. You get all the fulfillment of a mutual attraction,

3. untrammeled freedom to act on your emotions,

4. and a feeling of acceptance from a member of the opposite sex.

And, seriously, who doesn’t want that?

Well, that’s the problem. Everyone does. But sometimes the playful nature isn’t mutual.

Wow. I’m getting way too ahead of myself. Hold that thought.

What.

I already covered what they’re trying to accomplish. But what is flirting?

My man Webster defines it as,

“Flirt. v. to behave amorously without serious intent; to show superficial or casual interest or liking“

AHA! The keyword is superficial.

Superficiality sucks.

C’mon, you know it does. It’s like honesty. Everything or nothing. There is no such thing as a half truth.

The Result.

In a perfect world, everyone would take flirtatious behavior purely as a playful joke and laugh it off.

But we all know that this world isn’t perfect so… what do we get instead?

It really depends on the person’s intentions. They determine the degree the person’s flirting will take and ultimately what will happen. But generally, if a teenager takes the initiative to flirt with another teenager, it’s usually not because they actually like them. They’re just looking for the flattering feeling of someone returning their attentions. To the person confronted it can be extremely misleading and eventually pretty hurtful when the flirt stops talking to them and moves on to someone else. It leaves them feeling insecure about themselves, wondering if they did something wrong.

Believe me. I know members of both these parties. This drama is sooo common, you’d think we’ve learned enough to warn others about it, but no.

I hate it.

Hence this post.

Now, you’re probably wondering about the title. I realize it’s sort of weird. Let me explain.

Remember in Mark 1:17 where Jesus says to his disciples, “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”

This, mes amis, if you didn’t know already, is our goal in life. Not to fish for men (or women if you’re a guy) to seduce or tease in a romantic way, but to befriend them and direct all of who you are and what you do to God for his glory.

So, tell me, what do you accomplish from flirting?

Well, since we have these screens glued in front of our faces and I can’t hear you, I will use my fabulous skills of prophetic telepathy and dictate your brilliant thoughts.

1. I mess up the emphasis of a possibly awesome sibling-like friendship. Check!

2. I give someone the wrong idea and quite possibly hurt them a lot. Check!

3. And even more than that, I draw attention to myself rather than the FANTASTIC God who put me here to be a caring support in that person’s life! CHECK!

You’re such a good listener.

A’ight, so I’ve ranted and speculated, but I’ve never said what you can do. You’re probably like “OMG, I never realized what I was doing was so bad! OH NO! What should I do? How am I supposed to act around guys/girls if I can’t flirt?”

I sincerely hope I’m misrepresenting you there.

But here’s the main tippy top thing you *should* do:

Thing of everyone as siblings, NOT prospective love interests. There is a difference. One is healthy, the other painful. And stupid. And pointless. Because it mostly involves hormones. And hormones are mischievous little things, as you probably know. So don’t involve them. Don’t do it.

So the next time you meet a cute guy or girl, what are you going to do?

Will you fish for men or fish for men?

Hearts. ❤

Taking Risks

You know that sick feeling you get in your stomach… or tightness in your throat when you know you’ve just disappointed tons of people… but you can’t feel like your decision was a bad one?

Yeah.

Dear reader, I’ve quit the cello after almost 4 years and picked up the guitar. Officially. I just called my teacher to cancel my lessons and drop out of my orchestra.

And I’m ready to throw up.

Because…

My mom cried.

My dad continuously makes his disapproval known.

And my teacher’s shocked reaction just made it worse.

Past all the sadness that people are angry at me, I can’t feel anything but excitement for the change! A bit overwhelmed at the idea, yes. I love the sound of the cello and I know I always will. I will admit I’m feeling a bit of regret (though much of it is only of the inflicted sort) but here’s what’s up:

I want to be an everywhere musician. I know some consider the guitar cliche, but I don’t want to waste time pursuing an instrument now that I know I won’t want to continue to play as I get older.

I want to play the music I like. The happy coffee-shop ‘coustic stuff.

I want to be able to develop a skill that I can joyfully share with others for God’s glory, not forcibly.

Trust me, I’ve thought long and hard about this. About 6 months, in fact. It’s unlike me to make such big decisions, but I’m actually confident in this one. So here I go.

Hearts. ❤

Failure

“Oooh, fail.”

“Epic… FAILURE.”

“Hah, fail.”

“Ugh, crap, total fail.”

“That… was a fail.”

Have you noticed how popular this term has become recently? I’m pretty sure it’s now used within many if not all circles of American teens. Where did it come from?

You know in video games, how if you die in a level, you get a big “FAILURE” slapped across your screen? Mhmm. Maybe not. Well, avid RPG gamers, along with the term pwned (birthed from too many misspellings of the word “owned”) and many others, integrated it into their vocabulary. I think we all know how liberally the gamers are dispersed among us. And so it happens.

Why has it caught on so quickly?

Hmm.

Insecurity?

**Generalization Alert!**

Yeah, I’m pulling this card again.

But really, it makes sense. If teens fail at something and end up looking ridiculous, they can now loudly admit to their shortcomings, quite efficiently, with one or two brief words. I’ve come to two conclusions of why they feel the need to do this (hooray for numbered lists!):

1)     To ensure everyone knows they don’t care about what they think, thereby trying to prove they aren’t embarrassed.

2)     To remove any doubt from their peers’ minds that they don’t actually think what they just did still made them deserving of being classified as cool.

Now, these are ironic, because the very reason the teens do it is to make themselves appear comfortable with who they are…. when they actually aren’t! When they feel judged, everyone has confidence only if they think everyone else thinks they do too. It’s kind of a contest.

I’m not saying this is the case with every teen. I personally have found the term useful in my full-time job, which is teasing people, and now it’s a bad habit. I’m sure that’s the same situation with many others as well. But I’m just sayin’.

Here’s the thing that bothers me. Failure is presented in such a negative way. Yeah, in joking around some times, but it’s never said positively. What about celebrating when we fail? It’s become so underrated.

Yes. Celebration of our failures.

…

Whyyy…?

Well, I think you know, right? No, not for the sake of personal counseling. At least, not singularly. Wow, now I feel like a therapist.

Hey, failure is awesome! I’m not being sarcastic. With every failure you learn something new. It gives you the drive to go beyond what you think you can possibly do. And yes, injuries, whether mortally or of your pride, are mandatory.

I love how Thomas Edison puts it. This is what he said when people asked him why he wasn’t screaming and yelling like a madman after over one thousand failures at trying to perfect the filament of the modern light bulb:

“If I find 10,000 ways something won’t work, I haven’t failed. I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward.”

Yaaay! Haha, I adore that quote.

Failure isn’t truly failure, dears, but another step towards refining who you are.

So happily cheer with a genuine smile on your face when you fail, whether it’s an awful grade or a collarbone-busting tumble down a ski slope from a failed aerial. You’ll know how to better study or write a better paper next time. And you’ll know that throwing in a tailgrab after a sweet airborne 720 *never* is a good idea.

But don’t be sarcastic. It only makes you angrier. I know how you want to do it. But don’t. At least try not to. ;]

Love who God has created you to be for *His* glory, and be a smiley light in this youth trend of self-bashing. Encourage others when they beat up on themselves. And it’s tempting, but try to eliminate that word from your vocabulary when it’s in that context. Just to be safe, mmkay? A’ight. I’m done here.

Hearts. ❤



Moving Along

Lemony Snicket, in his usual brilliantly concise way, states,

“It is always sad when someone leaves home, unless they are simply going around the corner and will return in a few minutes with ice-cream sandwiches.”

Yeah… well… I see no ice cream sandwiches. And as much as I would love one at the moment, I certainly would be alarmed if my now collegiate sister should appear along with them.

 

Indeed. Elle s’en va. I’ve been told it is for the cause of higher education, but think most everyone would agree (if you know my sister and you probably do) that the reason we all breathe a sigh of somewhat hesitant relief for her is a different subject altogether. My sister left the house to aide herself in the maintenance of sanity. She really needed to go. And as much as I miss the fool (I say this lovingly), I applaud this next exciting step in her life.

People (especially older friends of the family) ask me ALL the time how I’m doing since she’s gone. Every time, the same cliche jokes about “being the next older sister”, my “new position of power”, and the ever-popular comment on having a room to myself ensue as I try to figure out how to put the truth better this time… maybe in a lighter way to avoid seeming like either a nasty sibling or an emotional teenager in denial.

I’ve found the best way to do this is through accompanying my response with something between an indulgent grin and a guilty expression, heavily laden with a conspiratorial air as I lean towards the askee.  What follows usually goes something like this:

” Well,  I hate to say it, as terrible as it sounds, but it hasn’t been as difficult as I thought it would be. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” I add when the look on the person’s face turns from a delighted secretive to half-shocked smile. “I miss her a lot and the dynamics of the household haven’t completely adjusted yet. But she was really eager for independence in the few months before she left and I couldn’t be happier or excited for her.” Here I smile wanly and the sympathetic nods abound.

Now, please understand. I love people.  I really do. And they’re all very thoughtful to ask. But just in case you were going to ask, I’m going to set the record completely straight in my little circle of the blogosphere.

1. Yep. I do miss my sister. But there is such thing as Skype and holiday breaks.

2. It’s because I love kt that I’m not sad she’s gone. Just think about that for a while, if you wish. Trust me, it makes sense.

3. Things are not very different at all from when she was here. We still have our familial issues and falling outs when my parents get frustrated… and yes, they are more directed at me than before. Mom is definitely much more emotional and Dad tends to gang up on Boosle a lot more. But that crazy little curly-head and I are growing a lot closer from all the parent drama.

Kt is out making her own decisions…  going places I’ve never heard of… befriending people I don’t know… and, well, being a college student. It’s a scary thought, granted, but I’ve found it has truly challenged me to trust God fully. I know He’s always looking out for me and everyone in my family, whether they’re under the roof of the Tomlinson household or not. Everything that happens is a part of God’s plan and I am blessed beyond my imagination to be His. It’s way more than I could ever ask for!

So God bless you, God bless your family, and God bless everything. I know He already has and continues to do so. And I suggest getting yourself an ice cream sandwich right about… now.

Hearts. ❤

Packin’

On this coming Sunday, I’ll be heading out to Lancaster with several other teens to a week-long leadership conference called City on the Hill (or COTH). YAY! Haha, I honestly have no idea exactly of what I’m getting myself into.

All that I do know about it is that we be be temporary senators for the duration of the trip, hosted in a mock senate. I’ll research, lobby, and do a bit of debate according to the party I’m assigned. I think we’re also to attend lectures. I am so psyched!

Yes. I am a geek.

Yes. I am proud of it.

No. I do not think any moment of this will be dull.

Because… yes. Yes, I am a geek.

The point is that I will be gone from all networking sites for the next week. All that means is I’ll be back with even more ideas for posts when it’s over! So talk to you all later! I better start packing… being that I’m leaving tomorrow morning… yeah. Mmkay.

Hearts. ❤

Cooking

So, darling, do you know what’s going on right now? DESPERATION. I’ve been grappling to do something productive. I feel so useless just sitting around, reading and Facebooking all day. Random epic biking adventures around my neighborhood are the usual outlet for this hopeless energy, provided I can sneak out and outrun my mother to avoid having a piece of foam force-strapped to my head.

But unfortunately the 90 degree weather and hilly roads can only allow for so much entertainment, considering how out of shape I am. And we never have any lemons in the house, gosh-darnnit, to make rehab lemonade.

So all that remains for me is to cook. And goodness knows I’m not complaining. If you don’t know me in person, most of the people who do understand that this is already my highest priority material passion. I talk about food all the time. I eat it all the time (it’s a wonder I’m not morbidly obese). I critique it at restaurants, research it, and am always collecting recipes to try out. The biggest problem is, again, this heat. My parents seldom let me play around in the kitchen or heat up the stove during the summer because we don’t have air conditioning in the house. Hence my initial hesitations.

Despite this, I have still managed to go crazy with the baked goods this summer. Cupcakes, muffins, pies, tarts, breads, cookies, biscuits, scones… What can I say? I’m a food nut before anything else, the host of an admittedly savage baked goods fetish, and I get bored when it’s hot outside. Scary things can happen when a whisk-wielding freckled blond like this hits the kitchen in a tank-top and Daisy-Dukes.

Yep.  From grilled pizzas to mini cheesecakes, I’ve been whipping up enough boredom-busting action to make even Eeyore do a lil’ happy dance. At least I’m having fun doing something. And it’s a rather tasty something too.

Does this sound like it would work for you? Well, even if it doesn’t, I want you to try something to get you started.

Crazy Summer Fun–

(serves 6)

Ingredients:

2 pint of really really really cold heavy whipping cream

1/2 cup of honey or a bit less if powdered sugar is preferred (haters)

a splash or three of vanilla extract

Directions:

1. Beat the whipping cream until it’s fluffy.

2. Fold in the honey and vanilla and stir gently.

3. Proceed to apply it to every berry, edible substance, or family member in your house. I prefer a spatula for this step, but I’ve also found that spoons make excellent catapults.

Get off your butt.

Go have fun.

Hearts. ❤