No You Can't...Because I Couldn't

There's some point in every person's life, when their parents tell them that they cannot do something because they "aren't old enough". So, after a few minutes of futile begging, we maturely let the matter drop until the appointed age. No harm done, eh? We are being responsible people who respect the boundaries set forth by our parents. We assume that that's how it was for our older siblings (if we have them) as well as that the rules will be the same for the generations beneath us. Right?

You can never be more wrong. For some reason, parents have this thing that says that the farther down you are in the birth order, the more you get to do at a younger age. This drives me absolutely berzerk. See, I'm one of those people who like the fact that you "have to wait until you are x years old before you can do/get something". To me, it makes you feel like you are maturing and that there is some semblance of a plan to it. Like, you can start dating when you're 16. That's a good rule because it makes you wait until you're older, wiser, and more mature about yourself. I got lectured because I tried to date before I was 16, even though I hadn't realized that it was a rule in our house. So I thought, "Okay, I understand their reasoning, even though I don't like it, and I'll try to respect where they're coming from." Then, my little brother, when he was in 7th or 8th grade got a girlfriend. I was completely expecting him to get lectured about how he was too young, but no. In fact, they almost seemed to encourage it! Needless to say it made me very angry. But whenever I bring up the fact that it's not fair, I'm either told, "Life's not fair," or am soundly chastised for having a poor attitude. It's not that I don't want my little brothers to be happy, or receive gifts, it's just that if I asked politely and was refused, what makes them any different than me? If there are rules, we should all be made to follow them.

Put in Your Earphones!

Over the past year, I've discovered something new about myself: I have a lot of pet peeves. Granted, some get on my nerves more than others, and some can be characterized better as an abhorrence. But this particular one happens to me quite often. It's when someone is listening to music either without earphones, or they're singing really loudly. Whenever this happens I'm always tempted to walk over to them and say, "Now, do you see me bothering you by singing what song is stuck in my head? Do you see me playing my music loud so the whole world can hear? No. So WHY ARE YOU?!?!?!"

It's not necessarily that I don't like the song choice (though I often don't), it's more of the lack of respect that gets on my nerves. Just because you like that song doesn't mean that I do, and I should have the right to sit in silence without hearing whatever kind of music you want to hear. Sure it's not a big deal, but it's just one of those things that just really rubs me the wrong way. So please, the next time you think about playing your music out for everyone to hear, put some earphones in. Although I know your taste in music is amazing, not everyone is the same, and we all deserve the chance to listen to our own music uninterrupted, or be in silence, unbothered. Thank you!

Warning: Future Ahead

Right now, life is so crazy. I mean, sometimes I'm struggling just to make it through a class to get through a day, to get through the week. There's just so much to do between sports and practice and academics and volunteer work and clubs, that I don't really have time to think about the great unknown: life after high school.

I mean, I know what I like, and definately what I don't like, but what I'm not sure about is how to mold these things into a life that will suit me. And, until I know how to make it fit my personality, then I can't prepare for it and thus, I can't schedule for next year. Unfortunately, when I try to tell my guidance counselor, he looks at me as if I'd just grown a third arm. Come on, is it really that difficult to understand that as a high school junior, I have no idea what I want to do with my life? Seriously, I've heard so many stories about how people have changed their major three and four times, after they get in college. And then I wonder, if I don't know what major I want to go in, then how can I pick a college that will help me become the best I can be.

So basically, everyone is demanding that I hurry and make a decision about my life when I'm only seventeen. Sure, back in the day, many women were already married or prepared for marriage at my age, but we're not "back in the day". We are in the twenty-first century here and we don't learn near the same things that they did and we're required to learn so much more about a broader spectrum of topics. Oh well, maybe God will show me what I'm supposed to do in a couple of days so I can hurry and make a decision like everybody else. Hopefully, the future's not so scary as it is ambiguous.

Brownies? Really?

Okay so this morning, we had a glorious 2-hour delay after being snowed out of school for two days. As it is a Wednesday, I had an NHS meeting that I needed to attend at 9:45. So, at 9:10 I was sitting in my kitchen waiting for my little brothers to be ready (it takes 15 minutes to drive to town from my house, and then anywhere from five to ten to get through the middle school line). As I looked about me, I noticed that there are BROWNIES in the oven, with the timer set for 22 minutes. In complete disbelief, I yelled,"Who's making brownies???"
and added a second later,
"And why?"


For a few seconds, these questions remained unanswered. But then, my brother walked into the kitchen and said that he was making them. Astonished, I again asked why. To me, an elder, and of course, wiser sister, I knew that it must be for some school function or project that he had forgotten about the night before. Unfortunately, those were not the words I heard, what I heard was, "Oh, I just wanted to make them."


WHAT??? Please tell me I did not just hear that. Please tell me that he's just kidding and that he's not going to make me late to a meeting so he can have brownies just because he wanted to make them.


Nope, he did. And as I continued to yell at him because I was going to miss a meeting he shrugged and said, "Well, you could help me." Angered, I replied, "Do what? The pans are still hot from being in the oven and there is nothing that two people can do to make the process go faster than one." He just laughed, and continued to put all of his brownies in a plastic container. Needless to say, we left the house at 9:35, and I completely missed the NHS meeting. All I can say is that I better get a brownie after school!!!

Lost Art

Lately, I've been watching movies that are set in earlier time periods, generally around the turn of the nineteenth century. (And no, it was not Pride and Prejudice...it was Emma.) Anyways, I couldn't help but notice throughout the films that the characters chose their words carefully, almost as though they held some magical power. Before they spoke, they actually took a second to plan out their thoughts so they could convey them in the most concise way, while still making a valid and relative point. They seemed to coat their words with honey to make them easier to take as well as understand, and their conversations were almost riddles. People had to be very smart and tactful to converse. In addition, conversation seemed to be entertainment in itself, and they didn't need technology to provide an interesting break from monotonous days. In order to keep their audiences entertained, they had to be well versed on a variety of topics.

Even now, a few hours after finishing the movie, it all still seems so strange. Nowadays, people just throw their words around as if they were snowflakes in a blizzard, not caring about the impact they have on people. Rarely do people take the time to think before they speak, and that could very well be a cause of many a misunderstanding. I think that conversation has become a lost art. Through computers and cell phones and texting, people are looking for the fastest way to say something. Now, whether that requires abbreviation or cutting the more "flowery" words, it doesn't matter, but the end result is always the same: the bottom line. Nobody seems to have any time to sit down and chat over tea (maybe coffee is more American, but I'm still in an English mood). Why can't we go back to where people actually took pains not to hurt someone (no pun intended), and if they did by some chance, they hastened to remedy the situation? Perhaps in some ways we have revolutionized the world for the better, but I fear that in this twenty-first century, we have lost something very dear: the beauty and power of repartee (Vocab word!).

Chocolate in Your Pocket?

I know, that sounds a little bit weird, "chocolate in your pocket," but that's exactly what happened to me. Academic team District Governor's Cup was this Tuesday and Wednesday with the final rounds of quick recall played on Wednesday. So we were in the semifinals of the tournament playing Daviess County, who we had just lost to the night before. During one of the time outs, I felt something poking me so I put my hand in my pocket to figure out what it was. What I felt was soft little pieces of something. Confused, I glanced down at my hands and noticed the soft little pieces were brown, and smelled of only one thing: chocolate. Almost instantly I remembered what had happened earlier that day.

Time: 3rd period.
Class: orchestra.
I'd bought a candy bar from one of my best friends to eat during class. Turned out, the chocolate was really rich so I decided to save half of it for later. And, because I didn't want to lose it, I stuck it in my pocket. It was my full intention to eat it for dessert at lunch, but when I didn't eat, I forgot about it. Several hours of being smushed in my pocket allowed it to melt and get all over the inside of my pocket. So, right in the middle of the match, I noticed the chocolate all over my fingers. I asked my coach for a napkin, and he just looked at me really weird. I told/showed him what happened, and then he went through the whole room trying to find tissues and napkins. Naturally, no one had anything, but they all ended up knowing what happened to me.

After we beat Daviess County, I asked if I could go to the bathroom to wash it off, and Paff laughingly obliged. The awkwardness of cleaning out a pocket and proceeding to dry it, I won't explain, but what happened after was quite funny. So it took me a while to get all the chocolate out and get it dry enough to where I could comfortably sit. Then, I went back to the room and waited a few minutes before starting the match against Owensboro. At the half it was pretty close so the coaches were hurrying to get their inquiries in. Well, unfortunately for them, the period is only 3 minutes long and their coach turned it in 30 seconds after the timer went off. So, our coaches wouldn't allow it to count. Of course, she got mad, and sulked until the end of the match for the second inquiry period. There she put in 2 inquiries where one said that our team should forfeit for a "delay of game". The four of us were completely discombobulated as to how we could have delayed the game. You guessed it. It was me and my chocolate pocket. The lady wanted our team to forfeit the match because I had to clean my pocket out.

Good news: The judges didn't agree with her and we won that match.
Bad news: We ended up losing the final match and they got first place anyways :(