That feeling

I hate that feeling of longing for something but you're not sure what. You can't decide what it is you miss, so you romanticize the past trying to figure it out. You try and fit people and memories into the emptiness, but it doesn't fill the holes. I feel like a dog running in circles and chasing its tail. I'm chasing the hypothetical mailman and loosing him every time. 

Look away

"So much to look at, and more then meets the eye"

Hiding behind maybe

We're all hiding. Maybe I'm hiding behind this blog. Maybe it's an excuse to say the things I won't stand up for personally. Maybe I will one day. Maybe 

Bounce

It's crazy how something you didn't appreciate, or even hated, can be something you regret taking for granted. As an older sister of two beautiful, blossoming siblings this is something I have come to understand. I love them more than anything, and always have. Of course, with me being 7 years older than my brother, and 10 years older than my sister, our interests rarely coincided. Looking back, there were times that I might have acted a little too cool for them in the past. You know, too "old" for all they asked me to join in. We have our futures ahead of us, but I already have a few regrets regarding our relationships.

My brothers birthday was yesterday. He has a birthday every couple of years that makes me realize he'll be all grown up one day, and those always make me the most emotional. The first was when I realized he wasn't a baby anymore, but a little individual. I had to share a room with my brother in the apartment we lived in before my sister, and I was less than pleased. He always had his baby toys mixed in with my toys. It's so petty in hindsight, but  I'll never forget how much that bothered me then. Mostly because of a distinct memory of the time it bothered me most. I got so aggravated with him playing while I was busy doing something else. He was still so little, but just learned to walk. Frustrated with his toys and playing, I picked him up and put him outside the door and closed it in his face. I felt guilty the minute I did it, so much that I'll never forget the feeling. I opened the door a few seconds later and saw him sitting their, sad and rejected. It one of the first times I remember being sorry and aggravated all at once. I always associate this guilt with my brother getting older, because soon after the toy incident, my brother turned into a child right before my eyes. I remember thinking, "Now I'll never get to blocks with him again.", and I still miss those blocks. The same blocks that I really hated at the time. 

This birthday my brother turned fourteen. Needles to say, this is the oldest he's ever been and it's scary. He's much bigger than I am and entering high school in August. He's going to have to face ignorant teachers, stupid kids, and drugs. I hate the thought of him facing real life decisions in adult situations. I hope he makes the best decisions possible, but I can only hope. 

With his birthday being yesterday, and him entering high school, I felt the pinch of guilt I remember from so long again  today. With him being 14 now we do have common interests a d great times. He's honestly one of my best friends, and I hope he always will be. That doesn't mean he doesn't occasionally bother me with situations similar to the toys. When my brother stopped playing with dinosaurs and blocks, our family was re-introduced to the basketball. I love his passion for basketball and fully support it. Although, the sound of him bouncing the basketball in the living room is far from relaxing. Normally, I complain and ask him to stop, but not today. Like I said, today I felt that guilt. I realized how similar the situation was to the past, and decided against it. In that moment it occurred to me, I would miss the basketball. Just like I missed the blocks in my room, I'm going to miss the basketball in my living room. I'm going to miss the sound of my little brother being just that, my little brother. One day I won't have a room down the hall from his room, and I'm going to really miss it. 

All of these thoughts and emotions were being fueled by the sound of the bouncing ball outside my room. In that moment, I loved the sound I usually hated. I welcomed it, and I let it control my thoughts. It led me to understand the true significance of appreciating the moment. As the ball still bounces, I take it all in. Living in this moment I feel my brothers love for basketball, and my love him. 

The next time I'm feeling aggravated, I hope that pinch of guilt reminds me to appreciate my brother for what he is right now, and not be bothered my the little things. The little things are what life is made up of, but the sad truth is we usually don't realize that until it's over. We never realize that one day we will greatly miss the things we take for granted. In this fleeting life we have to appreciate what we have when we have it, and that's a gift in itself.

Waiting on my world to change

When I realize that I don't need anybody, I can't tell if it's disturbing or comforting. Maybe it's both. When I feel alone, I feel really alone. Almost so alone, that I wonder if I should just go for it and live my life with no expectations from others. I feel like maybe I should just skip all the hoping to wind up happy with someone, and not risk the heartache. At the same time that thought is too lonely to finish. I'm just feeling lost and I want someone to find me and change that. 

Waking up on the right side of the bed

I've never thought that days were fair. Is it true what they say about waking up on the right side of the bed? One day, for no good reason, you can be so sad, and the next day so at peace. What is it about a day that changes these emotions inside of you? One day you can think of a sad memory you hadn't thought about in so long and it's a sad day. Then when a day is great, and you're so happy it's nothing more than a tease. No matter how many times you say you won't take the good days for granted, when they come along you always forget to appreciate that happiness. That happiness is gone with time, and a bad day will be worse in comparison. Then again, we wouldn't know happiness without sadness? It's a trap of emotions. It's not fair, and I'm confused by my own roller coaster of the two. 

Abercrombie and Fitch vs Obesity

Over 1/3 of our youth in America are obese, and America accepts this as a reality vs a tragedy. We regard this fact as common knowledge and sit on our fat American asses and do nothing about it. Everyone would rather make excuses vs making changes. With that being said, this is to the women who is challenging ambercrombie and Fitch for not clothing obese people: 

 This clothing brand is not obligated to clothed you because you are obese. This line of clothing is designed for a group of kids, teens, and young adults that should not be obese. In 1988 when they first targeted this audiance, our country did not have a problem with obesity. It is not their obligation as a company to conform to a new way of accepting obesity into our culture. If 1/3 of these obese young adults today can not fit the clothing, then 1/3 should buy a gym membership instead of the $90 jeans. You want to pin the fact that people can't fit into these clothes on the company and it is not their problem. This company has remained the same, us as Americans is what has changed. If you want to fit into a specific brand of clothes, that's your problem. Get on a treadmill and fix it yourself. Instead of mocking Abercrombie ads with obese people in place of "beauitful" ones, use your time to get healthy. All you've proved is that America is fat and lazy society full of excuses and ignorance. 

A Picture is Worth a THousand Tears

Looking at your pictures made it seem less real at first. It was like you were there when I could see a picture and remember the day. I could remember how happy we were, and everyone who was there at the time. I could remember something funny you might have said at the moment it was being taken, even. Those pictures were all very real, and comforting to me at first. Tonight, I looked at your pictures and it didn't do that for me. I couldn't feel the times we had. It seemed like a life time ago, and it hurt most to realize it was a lifetime ago. Your lifetime. I didn't realize how long it had been since those pictures were what my life consisted of. I looked at you, and me, and all the people I never see anymore, and hated that it had to be you. Maybe that's selfish to admit, but there are so many people in those pictures, and in this world, for it to have been you. Somone so young and valuable. All life has value, but you could have been so much. You were so much. Looking at your pictures tonight made your death more real than it ever was before. I don't know why, but tonight when I looked at your pictures all I could see was all that was lost. We didn't just loose you, we lost the times we'll never recreate, and memories that are becoming harder to picture. With you died a part of my life that won't ever be the same, and tonight the part of me that hoped it could possibly be the same died, too.

You're in my thoughts, 

And all around me 

You're in the water,

When I feel small by the ocean 

You're in the sand,

Slipping through my fingers

You're in my garden,

A sunflower standing tall 

You're in the sky,

When I look to God

You're in my tears,

When I cry for all that's lost 

You're in my heart, 

Everyday

Dog: A Mans Best Friend

It was a cold December morning, 6am, and Tim was headed out the door to take his dog for a walk. From his dog Ben's perspective, this was the greatest thing in the world. Unfortunately, it was not for Tim. He loved Ben, but he also valued his sleep and would have liked the extra twenty minutes. He murmured some complaints, grabbed an extra coat, and headed outside. He was very petulant, but still put on a smile for Ben, and made the best of morning walks. Just a short bit ago business had been thriving at his new bike shop, but lately things were looking grim. This had been a slow year. He had just moved to Texas, and lost all the business he garnered in Kansas. He wasn't going to quit though. He had to much bravado. In the midst of his sorrows, he had managed to neglect Ben. He could tell Ben was feeling down, too. He wasn't behaving differently, but subtle things like the pep in his step just weren't what it once was. This made Tim feel guilty. He knew that if he was in better spirits, Ben would be as well. Haphazardly, Tim's phone rang. He wondered who would be calling this early as he reached for his phone. "Hello, Tim Burns speaking." Ben could only hear Tim's end of the conversation but it seemed as though he could hear it all. Tim had just made a huge sale, the kind of sale that was going to make Christmas better this year.  As soon as Tim hung up the phone, Ben sensed the good news and responded with excited licks. At that moment Tim was positive that a dog is mans best friend.

Mother knows best

Each year I grow wiser; In turn I acknowledge that I am unyieldingly ignorant. What might appear as a contradiction is an ironic truth. With more wisdom comes the realization that you are a forever growing, ignorant being, who will never know it all. The irony of growing older runs even deeper than that, as you realize how wrong you were for the majority of your youth. This might discourage a pessimist who feels as though he is always one step behind, and will continue to be. If you have an optimistic nature, one might see past mistakes as lessons learned, and hope for pure improvement in the future. I on the other hand am a realist. I see the past, the present and the future for what it is by concentrating on today. I take the realization that I was once ignorant and combine it with the understanding that I always will be. I work towards a better understanding of life by acknowledging that I am far from understanding it, and welcoming new information with my mind wide open. To keep your mind wide open is to give yourself the gift of learning. It sounds simply enough, but is rarely followed. The youths of our society often refuse to acknowledge their ignorance and the wisdom of their elders, and as I continue to grow I am faced with the truth of a matter. The children should cover their ears, and adults should rejoice. The parents of the world know a thing or two about life.

  Today was a typical Friday morning. It began with my alarm clock screaming, my cat sitting on my face, and a lukewarm shower to match my cup of tea. Falling into the groove of my morning, I made something out of my mess of curly auburn hair, threw on a pair of black leggings, and grabbed my favorite sweater. Although my sweater isn't something you would consider extraordinary, it has beautiful simplicity. It's a chunky cream pullover from The Gap that goes with anything. What is now a key item in my wardrobe was once the bane of it. You heard me correctly, in another ironic twist; I use to hate my favorite sweater. A present from my mother, I didn't always give it the recognition it deserves. She purchased this sweater when I was a grade school teenager, unaware of my ignorance. This was a time when The Gap didn't represent style, but was said to represent being "gay and proud". That was the death of The Gap in grade school. My prejudice wasn't solely because of this, but developed from the common knowledge that oversized clothing wasn't in style at the time, another grand example of irony. I've also faced the possibility that I didn't like it because of the obvious reason that my mother liked it first. As a young, teenage girl, I could not agree with my mother’s taste in style on sheer principle.

With that being said, my sweater didn't see the light of day until recently, when I began college. As I put on my sweater this morning, all of these thoughts ran through my mind. My mother was right to have gotten me this sweater. She was right about it being comfortable, stylish, and something I would one day love. I questioned my previous, backwards principles, and wondered what else I had been wrong about. What else did our parents know best about? Shortly after, I joined my little sister Haley for breakfast.  Looking at Haley is like taking a rocket ship back to 1999, and watching me eat breakfast before elementary school. Besides that she could pass for my twin, she gives my poor mom the same sassy attitude that I had back in my heyday. After our cereal, my sister was heading off to school and my mother mentioned that Haley should bring a jacket because it might rain by lunch. With a toss of her curls and huff and a puff my sister exclaimed, "Why?! I'm never cold and I don't care if I get wet!”, and the tantrum began. Suddenly I wasn't just watching myself eat cereal, I was watching a mini me berate my mom, just like I had. Suddenly I felt defensive. I was on the other side of the fence this time, and it was a cold realization. Over my life span, I have picked countless arguments with my mother, and many of those arguments had a wrongful premise. My sister shouldn't have argued with my mother, or complained. In her best interest she should have happily grabbed a sweater. In that moment she should have appreciated all the wonderful sweaters my mother had gotten her, and should have wanted to take one to school to keep warm with. This seems most logical, of course. The problem is that children are not logical, and no amount of lectures can open their eyes to the ignorance that is youth. They have yet to acknowledge the ignorance within us all. In that moment I felt all the times I've yelled at my poor mother weighing down on me, and just wanted to say thank you for my favorite sweater.

Although I am less ignorant than I was in my childhood, I remind myself regularly that my ignorance is only on a grander scale now. I will continue to learn, make mistakes, and most of all value good advice. In the mean time I await for future lessons to reveal themselves and bring my current ignorance to light. Although I wish I hadn't made past mistakes, keeping those lessons close helps me understand the process of growing today. A part of growing up is realizing and accepting that the growing never ends. Don't be overly optimistic, or too pessimistic, but understand that ignorance will never be depleted. Your ignorance will only be subject to greater lessons. Lessons that I hope we are all mature enough to learn.

 In the future when someone has good advice to share, or a helpful suggestion, I will think twice before writing off valuable information. Now, I am thankful for those who know more than I do. I give my mother the respect and acknowledgment that she deserves for her wisdom. It is my mission to convey this concept to my sister, so she too can understand that mother knows best. I've always heard that someday we'll thank our parents, and for me that day was today.

OBESITY IN AMERICA

AMERICANS: Large, but far from in charge.


      In America we've welcomed obesity into our society with arms wide open. The overindulging nature of our country shows itself most in areas related to our health. Our motto is we want more and we want it now, and we believe we deserve that. We fought for the right to eat anything we want, so we will overindulge and bask in our self entitlement all the way to the grave.

      We've made it socially "normal", with ads about how you should "love your body" and "embrace your curves". Although the message is correct, because we should love our bodies, it's delivery is wrong. We live in a society of acceptance, enabling, and coddling. What we need is drive, motivation, and a sense of competition based on the fact that you're not okay exactly how you are. You have to work to be better, something Americans have lost sight of.

     You should love your body, but not by acceptance, with respect. You should love your body enough to get on a treadmill, and put down the chocolate. You should love your body enough to stop eating McDonald's and to start cooking at home more often, and by researching what you put inside yourself on a daily basis. You shouldn't love your body by accepting the defeat of food, but love your body by treating it with the respect it deserves. Your body is the most amazing machine of all, and it needs care that reflects that. Everyone wants a quick diet and an easy way out, and they want to complain when their "diets" fail. Good news, I found the problem. Less butter on your popcorn at the movies, and one less taco for dinner is not a diet. A diet is being conscious of everything you put into your mouth and wondering "Will this put me closer to my goal?". If you don't have that mindset, don't have complaints when you fail. There is no easy way out, you must work hard.

      It's not rocket science, but it is science. When you run your body like a machine, it shows on your thighs. Start your body, the machine, by starting your metabolism first thing in the morning. Breakfast truly is the most important meal of the day, and is the easiest start to a diet. To start your metabolism in the morning, is to start your weight loss for the day. Your body needs something to burn. Like gas for a car, all machines need fuel to start. The question now is what kind of fuel do we use. Now, I ask you to think of your body as a Lamborghini. You're on your way to work with your Lambo, and you stop for gas, which leads to a decision. Your Lambo takes premium gas, but the regular is cheaper and it gives you the same results, right? Wrong, your Lamborghini will have best results with the gas it deserves, and if you don't use the right gas it will ruin your car eventually. Your body is no different. Years of terrible food will fuel your body towards a life full of a turmoil, saggy thighs, and a wrinkly face. In the end your body reflects what you thought it deserved all along. So ask yourself, do you want your Lambo to be old and depleted of value in twenty years, or do you want it's value magnified by age, so it becomes a classic? With the right care, we could all become classics.

      No matter how much you don't want to believe it, put aside what America has brain washed you with and become a free thinking individual, who isn't ignorant to the failures of our country. You can be better if you try. You can't run a mile once and expect to win gold in a marathon, and you can't eat how you please and expect a great body in return. Hard work is always the key to success, and in this case a great body, too.

How to Start a Blog

Chapter 1 - How to start a blog

"In recent news a new blog is sweeping over the nation and invading the minds of youths and elderly alike. The overpowering response from the public has the media up in a roar of chaos, and the United States Government in a panic over what this might do to their pull in society."

I wish. That was just a literary device often called an attention grabber, but I do have high hopes. 

Now that I have your attention, I'd like to announce the creation of my blog. I'm trying to figure life out, and thought this might help. This is going to be diary style, meets informative information, meets whatever else I decided to mix in. This can be entertainment for you, and an outlet for me. My journey is just beginning and I want to let others join as I write about my experiences along the way. The figurative journey of life, that is. I'm not actually going anywhere.....yet.

I'm not really sure how personal I plan on being, so for now. I decided that my name is not necessary to include in this blog. A name is not who I am. A name is a chain that society hangs from your neck at birth. A name is what people hide behind on a job application, or when they first meet someone. It's the first impression you make. "Hello, my name is___.", is the start of many things.You want me to give you a key to who I am, a clue to my face, a name. Instead I want to represent what I am beyond that. Hello, I'm a complex individual, with strong values, and a lot of opinions. I am a sister, a daughter, a cousin, a friend. A lover of the beach, reading, writing, and media. I am passionate, composed, thoughtful, moral, loyal, excitable, a visionary, and an idealist. I am anxious, stubborn, secretive, heard headed, picky, manipulative, and my own worst enemy. Love me or hate me.

I would describe myself as multidimensional, in a particular sense. I am interested in many things, but my passions and interests are specific, for my passions are driven by interest and desire. I can not interest myself. Instead, I wait to be interested, and run with it. I like to have many different plans, experiences, and encounters. I enjoy exploring and I do not fear the unknown. I tend to give reason to crazy dreams based on the premise that you don't know how something will turn out if you don't give it a try. People often judge this life style, but I have no regrets so far. Something I do fear is having regrets. Most of all I fear the regret of not listening to my heart. One of my worst nightmares is that one day the opinions and doubts of others will kill my ambition and drown my dreams. It begins with me repressing the cries of my heart, as it screams out from the depths of my soul, and rips at my chest. I feel the twisting and churning of waiting sorrows, and I am fighting a loosing battle against society.  Every day we fight a futile war against life. Few of us come out swinging, but those who fought to accomplish their dreams is enough to fuel my imagination. If in a great misfortune my dreams all die, this blog can be proof that they did live, once upon a time. Although, I hope that doesn't happen, and we all live happy ever after instead. 

“Sometimes people call me an idealist. Well, that is the way I know I am an American.“ 

-PeaceHopeLove