A Bone to Pick

(the disapproving giraffes disapprove)

This has kind of been sitting on my mind for a really long time, and I feel like I just need to tell someone about it. I hate telling my testimony. It's not that I hate what God has done in my life, because frankly, I'm really happy about the way things have turned out, but I hate that people treat me differently because of my past. It's like I'm suddenly fragile as soon as they learn that I used to be suicidal, and I've self-harmed on multiple occasions. Because, really, if they took the time to know me, they'd understand that I'm very alright in the head and I'm a very rational person. I'm not mindless, and I'm not impulsive. I'm on depression/anxiety medication. I'm okay. Those were the darkest days of my life, and they're behind me now.
I'd like people to see that.

I bring this up because I've sort of had it with people making jokes about suicide and people cutting themselves.They think that the idea of hurting oneself is, in some way, sort of comical. People who commit suicide are selfish, and those who cut are trying to get attention.
That's not the way it is for everyone, though, is my point. For me, it was literally either hurt myself, or kill myself. I'd ask you which one was more rational for me at the time? If I had to do something out of despair to feel something other than self-hatred and overwhelming temptation to end it all, would it not better to harm myself in a way that can be mended? I am not advocating self-harm for all people, but I'd like people to understand that neither of these topics are anything to joke about.

To those of you of whom I know outside of the net, please watch the "s" word around me, because there is no word that makes me feel more ashamed. No word that makes me feel more alienated, like I'm some sort of creature from a whole other universe. No word that makes me feel dirtier that everyone else. I am so embarrassed that I was even ready to do that to my family, and to my friends. To the person who found me. To the schools I've attended, and the people who know they've hurt me in some way and would blame themselves for the rest of their lives. I cannot explain the feeling I get in my gut when someone jokes about it. I'd encourage everyone to please watch what they say, because I know that I'm not the only one out there.

(what I look like when I forget to take my pills)

I'd also like to say now how my life has changed dramatically now that I'm on drugs, because I really can't wrap my mind around why people don't take them if they so obviously help with the quality of life. Depression runs in my family, and I know that my mom struggled with it for forty years before finally finding Zoloft, what I'm currently on. My dad, also, said that he went through a period in his life where he felt like he wanted to die as well. I know that for most people who are depressed, it is because of genetic dispositions. And so if help is out there to mend problems like depression by simply popping two little blue pills a day, why don't people take them?

I used to get very depressed after having to leave the room because someone was eating something I couldn't stand or getting a panic attack somewhere. But now that I've been on medication, when I do need to leave, the corrosive sadness does not engulf me anymore. I can shrug it off and tell myself that we'll try again next time, and it's going to be okay. It's truly amazing! My quality of life in regards to my 4S symptoms has gotten much better as well. I'm not freaking out because the lady at the vet's was chewing gum annoyingly. I still notice that I should be pulling my hair out with anxiety, but all I feel is annoyance - like if someone was poking me over an over with a stick, as opposed to someone branding me over and over with a hot iron. These are the dramatic differences I feel now, and I couldn't be happier with the results.

While I do have those small things that still make my skin crawl, like my parents eating cucumber and broccoli at dinner tonight, I figure I can live with what remains. And if not, I can always get my dosage increased to three pills.

Life is manageable once again, and I have a future. Thank you little blue pills.

"I ride the lightwhale to work."

                                           "Is that like a porpoise?"

                                                   (dinner table conversation)

 

Sabine the Dog

Ashley

I have this friend who's been there for me through thick and thin. Her seventeenth birthday was the other day, and that's partially why I'm thinking about it now at 11:40 at night. I think she should be acknowledged.
She asked me the other night why in the world I even liked her as much as I do, and why I still want to be friends even though she can get a little rough with words from time to time. I had actually never thought about it. Why would she, out of all my friends, be the one that stands out?

The answer was quite simple. She is the only one who gives back what I give to her. I sort of have this thing where if I really, truly love someone, I'll pour everything I have into them to let them know how I feel. It's sort of a bad habit, I think, because I've been hurt by so many people because of this. I've had a lot of people use and abuse this attribute, and I've got some pretty serious emotional scars to prove it.
But Ashley's different. Here's an example: Once I threw a good friend a birthday party, and she spent the entirety of it hanging off of her boyfriend, and hardly said a word to me. For my birthday this year, Ashley threw me a surprise birthday party with my entire youth group because I had mentioned once that nobody had ever done that for me before.
She's the only one I have super-serious discussions concerning topics like the meaning of life, the significance of prayer, and why anarchy is bad. She's the only one that I would end up spending the night with after helping her family keep the basement from flooding. She's the only one who shares the same affinity and love for music, as well as much of the same tastes. She's different from all the friends that I have ever known in my life. She's real with me, and I like that.
Ashley has helped me get through some of the more rough patches of my history, and I firmly believe that without her, I might not be alive today. So this is just a short post to show how much I love and appreciate her. Because, really, Ash, you're the only friend who I think has ever cared for me to the extent that you have.
I love you, and thank you. 

Some Ideas

As goes with pretty much every summer, I'd say that most people have a very long list of things that they wish to accomplish in the few short months of freedom they have. I am no exception to this idea. I have so many things that I'm trying to do that I don't even know where to begin.
First on this list is figuring out how to take my ACT while I'm still suffering from 4S. I didn't have the chance to write about my previous attempt at conquering the test, but I'll have you know that it was pretty pathetic. There was a girl with a very bad cold, and I got a panic attack. I wasn't able to focus on the questions in front of me or even process what the concepts were about, and ended up just having to leave because it was so terrible. However, I'm hoping that this next time will be easier since I'm on anxiety drugs. My mom said I could probably overdose and be completely cool as a cucumber, and that would be okay. Zoloft is amazing.


Next, I'm hoping that I'll be able to read my Bible more this year. I'm doing one of those One Year Bibles and trying to read through the whole thing this year since I lost track of it last year and didn't quite get all the way. So far, I'm a month behind, which kind of sucks because I have to read a ton every day. This next month, I plan to catch up.
I'm also in the middle of writing a story, which I'm posting here. So far, I have about seventy pages in Microsoft Word not double-spaced. I've been stuck on this one chapter for a couple of weeks and haven't been able to update because I've been too busy, but I'm planning on writing a whole lot more in the future. I tend to start projects and not finish them, but I'm looking to change that. Especially with writing.
I would like to check out some colleges as well. Ideally, I'd like to attend either Colorado State University, Moody Bible Institute, or Colombus College of Art and Design. I need to also look at other colleges and maybe try to pick a major. I'm still unsure of what God wants me to do with my life, so if I could get into Moody, that would probably help me a lot. Plus, Moody has no tuition provided one gets accepted. But in order to apply for colleges, I'm going to need my ACT score. So, these next few months could be really interesting.
I would like to go to the pool.
I would like to go to the Denver Zoo.
I would like to start working out, because I'm nothing if not a flab-monster.
I would like to start a portfolio in case I decide to go to art school. They won't accept you unless you have work to show them, so, yeah.
I would like to start posting more videos on my YoutTube channel. I like to sing and play guitar, which sounds sort of silly, but I kind of want to post it somewhere.
I want to blog more!
I'd like to save more money in case I do missions work next year.
So, you see, I have a lot of things, and even more, that I would like to accomplish this summer, and I really hope that I can see all of these things through.


On another note, my friend and I went to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science yesterday because we had nothing to do. Seemingly, everyone else had something better they could be doing and ain't nobody got time for that, so we just went together. We saw snakes and lizards. And Darwinists. We actually debated with this atheist dude for an hour about different things. We orginally asked him why they say that the earth is millions of years old, and we got him to admit that nothing in science is exactly "fact". He said they don't know all of these things for sure. So we asked him why they would teach children things like that man evolved from primates if they didn't know it for sure. Also, I learned that most of the skeletons of things that they have are fabricated in some way. All of them are, he said. And of the skeleton they had of Lucy, they had a diagram showing her feet, but you could see that the only bone they found of her feet was small and seemingly insignificant. I asked him if the tools they displayed next to the partial skeleton were found by Lucy and he said, "Um...well, let me check...no. They're just examples of what she probably made."
I'm so sure.
We also got him to admit that mutations, as we have observed today, are never helpful. I asked him if he could think of an example of a mutation that would be helpful, and he directed us towards another fossil where he explained how dinosaurs turned into birds. This was not an example of modern day mutations, and he could not think of an example that people have observed where a mutation has helped a creature survive.

Doing things like this makes me feel a whole lot smarter. I don't get good grades at school, but knowing that I can have a philosophical argument with a man who has a doctorate while being only a teenager makes me feel accomplished. 

"Don't let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity" (1 Timothy 4:12). 

I Love My Job

Summit Ministries 2012

The last two weeks, I had the opportunity to attend classes at Summit Ministries with my little junior class after school got out. At first, I wasn't quite sure that I'd like it at all, and I was actually really worried. This was mostly due to the fact I have 4S, but I was put on anti-anxiety medication before going, so it actually ran quite smoothly. Nice for a change, right?

The basic goal of Summit is to equip young Christians with the ability to think clearly and defend their faith in a way which the world can see as, well, intelligent. So often, kids my age get into discussions and they realize that they actually have no idea why they believe what they believe, so this ministry puts kids in classrooms for nine hours a day for two weeks so they can learn about how the world works and what we can make of it. We were put boy/girl/boy/girl according to age in several rows of desks and were given a honking huge binder to fill with notes on what we were learning. There were one hundred and seventy pages.

First and foremost, we were taught about worldviews. We learned that culture is the result of what people express. Culture is what turns around and influences us in our daily lives, not the other way around. And the American culture, we learned, is what is going to eventually lead us to destruction. "I want it now, therefore, I get it" is sort of our thinking, and so debt and family demographics suffer. Darwinism has dehumanized man, and people are so wrapped up in working to make excess money that they sacrifice having children and creating families. We're not having enough babies, basically.
The six worldviews that influence us today are secular humanism (the happy human), cosmic humanism (new age spirituality), postmodernism, Christianity, Marxism (communism), and Islam. Worldviews are the frameworks of basic beliefs that we have that shape our view of and for the world. They are assumptions about origin, identity, meaning, morality, and destiny. Everyone has a worldview, but most do not think worldviewishly. Every cultural expression communicates worldview ideas, and we need to be intentional to think at the level of worldviews. In other words, always have your brain turned on! Ideas have consequences.
Now, we were taught more in depths about each and every one of these, which I'm not about to get into because they are so complicated and would take too long, but I might get into some of these as the summer progresses and I run out of things to do with myself.

A big portion of our classes revolved around the pro-life view. (Mostly taught by Scott Klusendorf and Dr. Mark Adams.) Making a case for life, and how do defend your pro-life views in five minutes or less.  I'm now going to mostly quote the text in my notes, written by Klusendorf. The first idea is to clarify the issue. The abortion argument can actually be simplified to one moral question: Is the unborn a member of the human family? If it is, killing that life for the benefit of others is a serious moral wrong. It treats a living human being as merely a disposable instrument.
Second, scientifically, we know that from the earliest stages of development, the unborn are distinct, living, and whole human beings. Dr. Alan Guttmacher, the former Planned Parenthood president said, "This all seems so simple and evident that it is difficult to picture a time when it wasn't part of the common knowledge."

We can say from a philosophical viewpoint that embryos are less developed than newborns (and, for that matter, toddlers as well), but this difference is not morally significant in the way abortion advocates need it to be in order to justify the killing of them. And so we must consider this next question: Why is some development needed? If human being are valuable as they are developed into, say, a toddler or a child, why would an embryo be any different? If one could justify killing one of them, they are also saying it is justifiable to kill a toddler because he is simply more developed. If a pro-abortion advocate does not also advocate killing a toddler for the same reasons as an embryo, he is assuming the unborn are not human.
Lastly, one can use the acronym of SLED:
Size: Embryos are smaller than newborns and adults, but how is that relevant? Are we going to say large people are more valuable than small people? Men are generally larger than women, but that doesn't mean they deserve rights more than women do.
Level of development: Embryos are less developed than you and I. But again, why is this relevant? Four-year-old girls are less developed than fourteen-year-old girls. Should older children have more rights than their younger siblings? Some will also say that self-awareness makes one human, but if that is true, newborn infants do not qualify as valuable human beings. Infants cannot perform human mental functions, but neither can the comatose or mentally disabled.
Environment: Where you are has no bearing on who you are. Does your value change suddenly when you cross the street or roll over in bed? If not, how can one justify a journey of eight inches down the birth canal changes the nature of the unborn from non-human to suddenly human? If the unborn are not already human, merely changing their location can't make them valuable.
Degree of Dependency: If viability makes us human, then all those who depend on insulin or kidney medication are not valuable and we may kill them. Conjoined twins who share blood type and bodily systems also have no right to life.

One of the other arguments you can use is "Trot Out Your Toddler".
"Abortion-advocate: But what about a woman who's been raped? Every time she looks at that kid, she's going to remember what happened to her. If that's not hardship, what is?
Pro-lifer: I agree that we should provide compassionate care for the victim and it should be the best care possible. That's not at issue here. It's your proposed solution I'm struggling to understand. Tell me, how should a civil society treat innocent human being that remind us of a painful event? Is it okay to kill them so we feel better? Can we, for example, kill a toddler who reminds her mother of a rape?"
Abortion-advocate: No, I wouldn't do that.

Pro-lifer: I wouldn't either. But again, in't that because you and I both agree that it's wrong to kill innocent human beings, even if they do remind us of a painful event? ...I don't understand her feelings. How could I? How could anybody? I'm just asking if hardship justifies homicide. Can we, for instance, kill toddlers who remind us of painful events? Again, my claim here is really quite modest. If the unborn are members of the human family, like toddlers, we should not kill them to make someone else feel better. It's better to suffer evil rather than inflict it...In the end, sometimes the right thing to do is not the easy thing to do. And what's right depends on the question: What is the unborn? We can't get around it."

This is just a taste of the endless lectures we listened to which, as a whole, I found immensely fascinating. I'm so glad I went. In addition to these lectures, we were also either given three hours of free time a day, or a few hours of sports time at the park. And we didn't even have to play sports, we could sit around and play guitar or read if we wanted, which I did in all circumstances. We, my friends and I, met several kids because of playing music all the time. There was Evan from New York, Josh from Connecticut, Austin from Michigan, and several others that just wanted to spend time listening to us jam out to Christian worship songs. We even went busking on several occasions, and made some pretty good money just playing music out on the street.
The food there was a little questionable at times, and I actually lost six pounds because I voluntarily had to fill myself with endless meals of salad because the quality of the meat was beyond my picky taste. We had a staff auction where the people working there sold services in order to raise money to send to Sudan. A different kid named Evan gave $200 along with my class to purchase a round of $400 smoothies and scones! What a way to send Bibles, right?

I also was able to make friends with a few kids from Life Action Ministries. One in particular was Austin Loveing, who's link is here, and I ended up befriending towards the end of the second week. Evan from the smoothies and another girl named Jess were also part of this organization. Let me tell you, they were completely hilarious. I played Hand and Foot with Jess and Austin on the last sports day, and literally couldn't stop laughing. But more importantly, with the increasing intensity of the lectures and meeting this group of friends sort of made me feel like I should be part of something bigger. Like, maybe I wasn't meant to be a counselor, or even an artist. What if God wants me to be part of a ministry like this? What if he wants me to go to the ends of the earth? I have no idea, but the prospect of this seems exciting, and I can't seem to get it out of my mind. When I think about doing to the work of spreading the Gospel, I feel something I haven't felt before. If you all could pray for me this year as I finish up high school and decide where to go next, I'd be very thankful.

By the end of the week, I was really sad I had to go and leave all of the great people I had met as we went our separate ways. I suddenly wished I lived in Michigan, Missouri, New York, and North Dakota...all at once. I'm going to miss everyone so much, but I wish them well as they go off to serve the Lord on their different paths to please the King. 

Three-Part Photograpy

These are for my photography final that are due Friday. I used my best friend for a subject, and these are my final products. Let me know what you think of them! The concept was supposed to be a three part photo series which told a story. The beginning, pinnical moment, and then the finale. This idea here portrayed a girl who either is or has been labeled the things which are written on her body. The viewer could see it either way. The second photo shows her, fed up with what she is covered in, the accusations and names, and she washes them off of herself in the sink to free herself. In the third, she is clean, and has one final thought: She is above all of it. She doesn't care what they think. She is no longer the girl which was first shown, and now she can move on as a new person. 

The Fantastic Monday Flu

Adorable, but full of germs.

It's funny how most of the stress that I have in my life comes from two primary sources: a.) nannying, and b.) Chem. Class. While these two things are completely unrelated, they do occasionally find ways to connect themselves in my vast circle of Unimportant Stephic Events.
Take Monday for example. Dear Lord, Monday.
I showed up for work at the Nanny-Family's to be greeted with the news that I was not going to be alone the entire day with the small blonde one. The trio of Mexican cleaning ladies were going to come at three, much to my utter dismay. I'd made it clear to Nanny-Mommy that I wanted the cleaning ladies to come a different day, because it's a little hard to maneuver myself and Brody around them with their various chemicals, especially when it's about three degrees outside. Usually when they would come, I would just make a point to take Brody out in the stroller for two long periods of time, maybe arrive at the park, and spend a lot of time in the backyard. In the winter, it's so much harder. I also can't play one of the many bizarre games that I make up on a whim to entertain him inside, because they would think I was mental. So, when they arrive, we have to spend the three hours they are here in the child's tiny bedroom.
This, added onto the fact that I had a myriad of questions to answer for my Chemistry class and a Spanish III test to take, just made my stress level skyrocket.
So, the first half of the day went wonderful, mostly due to the fact that Brody took an hour and a half nap in the middle of the day, and we watched half of The Fantastic Mr. Fox. We couldn't take a walk, though, so he was completely hyped up on energy and had nothing to do with it except for pound up against the baby gate and defy my every movement. The joys of being one and a half.
Once the cleaning ladies came, there was no time for a second nap on Brody's watch. I was like, "Shit, now I will have about three hours of homework after I get home...", and since I get migraine headaches at the drop of a pen, I was now in a world of pain. And locked in the baby's room while he spun in circles like a helicopter and threw books at my head.
When Nanny-Daddy got home, I was feeling like my head was going to explode with pain. I was over-stressed, tired, and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a week. But life can't ever be that simple, can it? By the end of the night, I did manage to get everything done and take a shower before getting to bed, but I still can't believe I managed to live through it.

Then I got the flu.

Early Wednesday morning, I had to jump out of bed two times and sprint to the bathroom to toss my cookies into the loo before stumbling back and landing in Nod. I vaguely remembered Nanny-Mommy mentioning that Brody had had the flu that weekend, and had since recovered, and then regretted ever kissing his little his little head before placing him in his crib. Dang.
I called her and told her I was sick and couldn't make it to their house that morning, only to find out that she, too, had the flu. Coincidence, right?
Puke.

My mom had to go and work at Operation Christmas Child that afternoon, though, so I spent the next seven hours home alone with a plastic bowl and a cat. I don't think I've spent that much time asleep in, well, a very long time. From eight in the morning to seven-o-clock that night, I was more or less drifting in and out of consciousness until Mother and Dano came home with some 7-Up and water crackers for me to consume. Which, then, I realized, I hadn't eaten anything all day. Couldn't keep anything down.
So I ate, and went back to bed. 

180

Watch all of this. It's worth it.

Some Amazing People

I think it's interesting how one's music choice can change in such a short amount of time. The way someone is inside can determine what types of music they prefer over others, and how they stand with their Creator can make such a huge difference in the style they enjoy the most.
For example, my freshman year, I was all into the band Skillet. The only thing I really liked to listen to was the raspy tone of John Cooper's voice and the blaring of their guitars. I was so angry and searching for something outside of myself that I found comfort in the insecurities of the song writer and all the heartache he had experienced in the past. I think that the severity of the music also fed my rage, the way that Cooper was always yelling and shouting about the way he felt kind of soothed me. Nowadays, I can't bring myself to listen to much of their music. I like softer, more quiet tones.
My sophomore year, I was into more happy, upbeat, secular music. I think last year, I was very far away from God, and I didn't really know it. I thought I was all into him, but I found myself not listening to His voice through the music I was paying attention to. I was practically obsessed with Rachel, and wanting to be just like her, I decided to listen to the kind of music she liked, and found things that we could listen to together. Now there's a lot of songs on my library that I don't feel like I can bearly hear anymore because it reminds me so much of her. Now, because of the state of my heart, I'm very prejudiced against different songs that I have, and need to keep myself away from it.
And now, I think it's interesting how since I've wanted to be alone and more solitary, I listen to quieter things. I'm secluded and quiet inside, and so my music choice has changed to mirror what I feel inside. I've gotten very into the work of Shawn McDonald, because he's the type of guy I can really identify with. His biography is so heartbreaking, his story so close to my heart, and when he sings, I can feel what he feels. This man is someone who has hurt so much, and gives it all back to God. I find it inspiring.

I love how he just says how he feels, and puts it all out there for the world to see. His songs bring up topics of insecurity, loneliness, feeling lost, hopeless, and then finding redemption again and sanctuary from all of his troubles. Another artist whom I've really grown to adore is JJ Heller, a young woman who has also seen lots of trouble, but found ways to deal with it, and finally discovered God's plan for her. She's now married and has two sweet little girls, and is happy. Her music reflects that. She, also, is akin to quiet, guitar inspired music in a sort of Indie fashion. I absolutely love her.
These two artists have inspired me and kept me going through rough times. I'll post a few of my favorite songs by them, so maybe you can get to know them, too. 

I hope you enjoy them, and maybe they'll inspire you, too.

Good Evening.

I'm a failure. No blogging? Almost a year? I suck. Here is an "I suck" photo for you. In fact, its title is "I suck" and it is a picture of me sucking.

See, now, I feel like I've completely robbed humanity of my views and all the random crap I have to say. I think now I'll just ramble on something that's been on my mind lately, and something that's been closing in on my state of mind and such and makes me feel completely powerless. I'll just come out and say it.

I can't trust anyone.

There, it's out, I've uttered it, and bang, I already feel a little better. Um, I really hope she's not reading this, but that friend that I used to rave about, Rachel? She's no longer a part of my life. I don't know how to nicely say this, but I honestly feel like she used me. I was like a fad that went out of fashion, and now that she's gone and forgotten all about me and left me in this shocked, pathetic, exoskeleton, I'm beginning to question who else in my life that I have been trusting should I not trust anymore? Obviously, I'm not the best judge of character, seeing as four out of the five best friends I've had in the last three years have left me emotionally scarred to some degree, how many other "BFFs" in my life am I allowing to get to know me better?

And so now, I'm, like, this completely scared out of my beans, paranoid, and un-trusting hermit that has no fun and hangs out with no one because I don't know who actually likes me and who's just pretending. I'm not sure if the kids that I was trying to befriend in my photography class are just being nice because I'm annoying and emotional, or if they genuinely like me. What if they just laugh at my jokes because I say so many of them? Because they find me intimidating? Is my youth pastor's wife just having lunch with me on Thursdays because she feels sorry for me in my fragile state of being? I just don't know, and I have no idea what the duck is going on here.

It's a little like living in Inception.

And I really don't like it, because I can feel myself pulling away from anyone and everyone, and becoming much more cynical and sarcastic than I used to be, and far more darker in my "normal" state of mind than I previously allowed myself to be. Like, even when I'm having a good day, I'm, like, borderline Fang of Maximum Ride. It's frightening, to say the least.
What the blank am I becoming? Do I even like this?

I'm getting addicted to the Sims 3 again, getting lost in the land of Facebook, neglecting Chemistry homework and/or important studying I have to do, and it's just not healthy.
I'd get some help, but I just don't have time.

Maybe the root of all of this is the fact that I now spend sixteen hours a week babysitting a two-year-old who likes to kick and scream and demand things I'm not sure I'm allowed to give him. (I also work a hostessing job on weekends. I'm pretty sure I've broken every child-labor law out there.) Or that my room is never clean. Or that I have a dog that's fatter than a kid on a strict Twinkie diet. Or that the earth may or may not be warming. Or, um, I don't know, that some freaking moose in Alaska just died of heart failure because he wasn't following up on the Iditerod!

Clearly, I'm losing it.

Yeah, I'm losing it.

Also, damn, it's good to be back. I haven't written in so long, and then my history teacher, Mista' B., assigned this super long research paper on what America is all about, and somehow, it just felt...good to be writing. The sad thing was that it had to be a research paper that brought me back to all of this. Somehow I started thinking about my blog after I'd written the seven page monster in under two hours, and how amazing it was that I could write something of that magnitude is such a short amount of time. Maybe it's my eight words-per-minute typing speed or my addiction to caffeine, but I mean, who knows. I'm rethinking my career options after high school (I'm a junior now...is that crazy?), and earlier this month it was definitely a councilor for troubled teens, but then Nicole stole that, but that's a different story, and now I'm wondering if I should write. I mean, I don't mind doing it, it's easy for me, and I think it's kind of fun. And writing stuff like this, on a blog, obviously would not be a practical career field, but maybe writing articles or something. I dunno. It's a small idea. Baby steps, baby steps, that's how I roll.

Look at my cows!

I think I might change the name of my blog. I'm not really sure. But I do definitely need to change the profile picture of me, 'cause I got a new haircut, and I'm almost a year older than that photo. And, see, now that I have two jobs, I can afford to be all girly and stuff now and buy cute clothes and makeup and damaging hair products that make my hair way huger than it needs to be. I kind of love it, and I've come to the realization that I'm a workaholic. I love to be busy, and stressed, and I like to make money. See, and now I don't have to bug my family about buying me stuff, like Nutella and feminine necessities, because I can get them myself, and it feels way better to have earned it than to have mooched.

Anyway, so, yeah, this felt good. It's good to be back. I'll add some nice photos and stuff to make this post more worth your while to be reading it. But, then again, if you're reading this right now, you've probably moved ahead of that already.

And someone had been wondering about my hearing aids? They don't work in the way intended, but they do mask most sounds that normally bug me. It's a really weird concept, and half of the time, I don't even know if they're doing anything productive, but just wearing them gives me some sense of security. I tend to flip out a little more when I'm not wearing them than when I am, for some strange, psychological reason. 

Not Only Do I Have Orthopedic Shoe-Inserts - I Also Have Hearing-Aids. I'm Fifteen.

Yesterday, I learned something that kind of blew my mind: 4S may, in fact, be curable. INSANE, right? Let me start from the beginning.
My mother woke me up at about seven-o-clock and told me that we were going to an audiologist to go look at my ears and talk about my Selective Sound Sensitivity Syndrome (4S). It turns out that there's a man in Colorado Springs who not only has heard about it, but knows how to treat and hopefully cure it.
First off, he explained to me that we needed to take some hearing tests, he needed to look down my ear canal with a microscope thing that showed up on his computer (so freaking awesome), and he needed to vacuum some ear wax out of my left ear (very painful). So, I was put in a soundproof room after getting my ears cleaned and had to repeat words that he said to me, and also listen to different beep pitches so he could measure how good my hearing was. Turns out mine is weirdly acute.
After he was finished with that, he explained to me what 4S is and how my brain is different from everyone else’s. In everybody’s brain, there is a part that processes sound, and a part that processes anxiety sitting right next to it. Normally, these two regions do not interact. But, in my brain, there are connections and bridges between the two regions, and so they intermingle far too frequently.

What the doctor said one way we can break down these connections is through the use of hearing aids. One type of device used has been developed in Australia, and plays a series of chime-like notes in an infinitely random sequence. If I wear these all the time, whenever I come in contact with noises that trigger anxiety, the part of my brain that is beginning to freak out will relax more so my reactions begin to cease. Eventually, he said, these connections will begin to break down, and I should be able to see a difference in as little as two weeks. In a decade, Doc says, my 4S could be completely eliminated.

The ones I have right now are actually not mine, but the ones that my parents are going to buy for me have a switch on them so I can change the type of chime or white noise and control the volume. They'll also be brown so they match my hair color, and the wire will be clear, so they won't be that noticeable.  

Isn’t that cool? This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for! The only downside? They make my ear canals itch, but I think I can live with that.

100 Happy Things

So, I kind of had a rough day. I got home and read up about things to do when you're down, and one of them was to write out a list of one hundred things that make you smile. And I like making lists, so I did it.

Things That Make Me Happy:
1. Reading a book
2. Drawing a picture
3. Writing about life
4. Sunshine
5. Practicing the guitar
6. Practicing the cello
7. Taking a shower
8. The feeling after you're done crying
9. Playing on the Sims 3
10. Listening to music
11. Eating good food
12. Making CD's
13. Shopping
14. Playing with Boaz (my dog)
15. Snowboarding
16. Helping people
17. Having something to smile about
18. Looking at good photography
19. Having good grades
20. Not complaining about things and just taking things as they are
21. Singing
22. Sitting in my Bat Cave (my semi-furnished crawlspace)
23. Feeling like I'm pretty
24. Having nice things to wear
25. Chewing gum (not around other people!)
26. New pencils and pens

27. New books
28. Wearing pajamas
29. Getting a text message from someone
30. Having Facebook notifications
31. Comments on my blog
32. Fanfiction reviews
33. The feeling of after completing a lot of homework
34. Making something
35. Looking at childhood photos
36. Having a face clear of blemishes
37. Losing a few pounds
38. Oreos (funny how this one directly followed the previous...)
39. Chocolate in general
40. Going somewhere
41. Youth Group (when Ashley’s there)
42. Starbucks
43. Baking/Cooking
44. Educational videos
45. Watching movies
46. Going to the movies and being the only people there
47. Learning new things
48. Doing something with my hands
49. Accomplishing something difficult
50. Praying
51. Reading my Bible
52. Glee
53. Hugs
54. Driving
55. Toy cars
56. Dinosaurs
57. Really cold ice water
58. Warm baths
59. Being left alone

60. Flowers
61. Contacts
62. Doing my nails
63. Playing with my iPod
64. Complete and total silence
65. Riding my horse
66. Taking pictures
67. New music
68. Asian people
69. Speaking in Spanish
70. Coloring
71. Crayons
72. Kids TV shows
73. Babysitting
74. Sheep
75. Candles
76. A clean room
77. When my laundry is all done
78. Garlic bread
79. Just bread in general; carbs!
80. Caesar salads

81. Clean sheets

82. Ostriches

83. Anthropologie

84. Computers

85. Powerpoint presentations

86. Petting the cat

87. AFV
88. Painting walls
89. The library
90. The Dumb Friends League
91. Chips eaten in solitude. (Sounds weird, but...yeah.)
92. Earl Grey Tea
93. Hot Chocolate with whipped cream
94. The smell of the book store
95. Writing letters
96. Mika
97. Great art, like Van Gough, Monet, and Georgia O'Keefe
98. Yo-Yo Ma
99. Sporks
100. Not having a rash

To tell you the truth, it actually made me feel a bit better. So, next time you feel like punching the nearest wall, reach for your computer instead and start typing up words! It's kind of fun. Shortly after I finished this list, my mom and my sister came up to check on me because I refused to eat dinner with the fam, so we just talked, and it was nice.
Tomorrow, my mom and I are going to go see an audiologist who specializes in things like 4S, and he might be able to fit me with a pair of hearing aid-like devices which filter out the bad noises. Don't ask me how, but I'm really hoping this works. Please be praying that my situations at home and at school get better, because I'm not doing so well at the moment with everything in general. Life is kind of coming at me in all directions, and I'm just waiting for the storm to blow over.
Thanks, and I hope you all have a great week :)

Merry Christmas / Happy New Year

So, I’m not dead. I realize I haven’t posted in over a month, which is entirely my fault because I’ve had all of break to post again. Sorry. Like, geez, you’d think I could freaking motivate myself to use the computer for something other than the Sims 3 and Facebook. It has also come to my attention that I promised to post right after Thanksgiving about my Thanksgiving, but now I’m thinking that’s way overdue and you probably all don’t really care at this point.

Anyway.
First of all, I'd like to wish you all a Merry Late Christmas and a wonderful New Year ahead of you. I hope that all of you enjoyed your time with family and friends as you remembered the birth of the Christ and what Emmanuel promised to do for his people, and for all the world. In some ways, my holiday wish isn't late at all - we can remember the day the Savior of the world was sent any time or any hour. "Glory to God in the Highest! And on earth, peace to all men on whom His favor rests."

The highlights of the last month included snowboarding with a handful of kids from my school, seeing a Family Force 5 and Forever The Sickest Kids concert, and our drummer, Brice, ’s Christmas party at his house. (Sorry, wasn't entirely sure how to punctuate that.) Then after I got off school on December 13th, I was free to do whatever I wanted with myself for three whole weeks. The problem with that? I had no plans whatsoever for the first and last week. And, you know, that could kind of be a problem, considering I usually get pretty depressed when I’m all alone by myself. Week One sucked.

The second week of my break, my family and I had made plans to go volunteer over Christmas at InterVarsity’s Bear Trap Ranch to help serve a group of international students for the International House Party. My family got our own room to stay in, which was complete with a loft and several mattresses to sleep upon. We spent the week mainly cooking different international dishes in gigantic serving sizes, sloshing kimchi out of a big glass jar into a bowl (smelled disgusting), and quartering large sheets of sea weed. It was a lot of work, and I didn’t enjoy most of it, but I gained the satisfaction of listening in one night while the students shared what they had learned about God from the camp. Now I think I would even do it again just considering the spiritual growth that happened there. It was great to be part of something so huge!

(Enter comic relief, stage right:) Here's something funny that happened the day before we left for Bear Trap was opening presents a week early: Last year, to mask the fact I had gotten my brother a concert shirt for Christmas, I duct-taped two bricks to the inside of the box and filled it with packing peanuts, placing the shirt in the middle. This year, my brother did the exact same thing to me. He got the biggest dang box he could possibly find and put an entire cinder block inside of it. What did he get me? A capo and an ostrich Beanie Baby. For Kristen's, he placed the gift in a box, and then wrapped it up in about six other boxes, duct-tape everywhere. Glad to know he had fun doing it, right?

My sister and I decided that we would choose our own gifts for each other so that we spent about the same amount of money on one another. This year, I got her the first season of Glee, and she got me the Sims 3. And that totally rhymed. My life is such an epic.

I also had the opportunity to spend time with both of my best buds this Christmas break. The first week, Ashley spend the night while my sister was having her ugly Christmas sweater party. We played Pictionary Man with my mom and Daniel, jammed a bit with my guitar, made candy houses, and were able to catch up for the first time in what seems like months. I can't believe the last time we had a sleepover was during the summer, which says something: Ashley needs to come to my school!



The day before New Years Eve, I was also able to spend the night at Rachel’s house for the first time ever. Man, it was a blast. We even stayed up until five because we didn’t factor girl talk into our bucket list. She and I watched some Glee and a Will Ferrel movie, played some Sims 3, Facebooked, dressed up as Lady Gaga and Kesha to shoot a twenty minute video, and had a great time. Granted, it felt a little juvenile, but who cares? A kid has to be a kid every once in a while. Plus, I freaking love Rachel.

And finally, New Years Eve came. There was no hint of sadness for me in seeing 2010 leave. I’m glad it’s over. The traumas of the first eight months will never my mind, but now I can see this new year ahead of me and think of nothing but hope. I have new friends, a new school, people in my life who genuinely care about me and my well-being. I know that this year will not be perfect, but I don’t think considering my circumstances, it could be any worse than last year.
I actually just finished reading through the Bible last night. Through watching the Israelites and how God continuously punishes them for what they’ve done wrong, but accepts them right back just as they were was encouraging. Reading Jesus’ teachings gave me hope, told me I am loved, and reminded me that no matter what happens to me, God will always love me. He’s taught me that he wants me to trust him because he is the one friend who will never let me down. He’s taught me that there’s a reason for everything that happens, whether good or bad, and that none of it is by accident or chance. God holds the world in his hands, and he sees each and every one of us. He collects my tears in a bottle and walks me through all of my hardships as they come.
Honestly, if God hadn’t been right there beside me throughout 2010, I may not have lived to see a 2011. So because I cannot find the words to describe my gratitude to Him, all I can do is try and honor him with everything I have in me. Let every breath that I take praise the Lord!


Happy New Year.

Holding On A Second

There are a lot of things that God has blessed me with that I should be thankful for this year. And since it's going to be Thanksgiving for another forty minutes, I'll go ahead and list these things which I am greatful for. My Thanksgiving post should arrive on Saturday, for those of you who want to know what I was doing with myself.
Here we go. I am thankful for...
- My family
- A big house to live in
- My dad and for all he provides for my family and his willingness to go out into the big scary world to make sure we have something to eat and a roof over our heads.
- My mom and her silliness; that she’s the only one in the family who I can go to when I feel stupid or frustrated with something, that she takes care of us when we’re sick, cooks food, and runs errands without ever complaining.
- Kristen, my older sister, and that she always takes the first step in everything to test the waters out for us. I’m thankful this year that she was the one who stood up for me and dragged me to the office when I was being bullied. I’m thankful that she remembers everything and is the quietest chewer in the entire family.
- Daniel, my little brother, that he listens to me when I talk to him. That he’ll come to me when he needs advice on something. I’m thankful that he and I have the same taste in music. I’m thankful that he looks up to me, even though that puts a lot of weight on my shoulders. I’m also thankful for his beautiful strawberry-blonde hair. It’s gorgeous.
- My school, that God provided a safe-haven for me in my desperation.
- Ashley, that she was there for me this summer when I had no friends at all and that she and I, even though we don’t see each other all the time, are still close no matter what.
- Rachel and that she's so much like me that it's scary. I’m thankful she is the only other person I know who also has 4S. I’m thankful she understands me in every single aspect of my life. I’m also thankful that she gives the greatest hugs in the world. Seriously, girl, they are the best.
- Jake, my music buddy. I’m thankful he’s the only other string player in my class and that he’s helped me form our band and help me lead it. I’m thankful he’s the only boy in my class who I can talk to and relate to. Also that he doesn’t drive me completely insane like most other boys I know.
- Rebekah, that she’s always willing to talk, always smiling, and always making me laugh in one way or the other. I love that she likes to take pictures. I love that she has the biggest cat in tarnation named Norman. I’m thankful that she, too, likes socks as much as I do.
- My new youth pastor and his wife. I love having coffee with Mandee, and it really helped me get through the first couple of weeks of school. I’m also thankful for their new baby!
- I’m thankful God didn’t let me kill myself before school started!
- I’m thankful He’s spoken to me through music I listen to and encouraged me through the one place He knew I’d listen.
- That I’m so creative, even when I’m frustrated and cursing because it makes me mathematically handicapped.
- Hence, I’m thankful for the online tutoring site I use for math every single day.
- For my teachers this year. All of them are Christians and share the same views as me. I’m thankful they’re so chill about everything (except for Mrs. Johnson, biology) and really care about you as a student. I’m also thankful they pray before class every day.
- I’m thankful for contacts!
- Oranges.
- Art.
- Music.
- Cell phones.
- Facebook.
- Texting.
- ALL OF MY SEVENTEEN FOLLOWERS. Seriously, I love that you guys care what I have to say and read my blog. (Am I a suck-up? Yes. Do I care? Not really.)
- The fact that I live in America and have a future, other than some of the kids in Mexico or in Romania who really don’t have anything to look forward to in their lives.
- That I can read people’s actions like a book.
- For my job.
- For my dog, Boaz Radley. I love that huge fluff-ball.
- Bacon.
- Our country not fighting some sort of war on our own soil. That could be scary, right?
- I’m thankful for airport security.
- I’m thankful for ostriches, elephant shrews, gazelles, and polyps.
- That I’m an intelligent person who can understand things on a deeper level.
- I’m thankful for being alive. I love my life right now, save 4S, but God has been taking care of me. He knows where my life is going and how certain hardships I go through will end up eventually.

Lastly, I’d like to encourage you to take a minute (or half an hour, like I just did) to take inventory of all the things you’ve been blessed with this year. How has God provided for you in your life?
Happy Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving!



(Sexy, right?)

 Truthfully, this post has nothing at all to do with my Thanksgiving, seeing that to me, it's technically still Wednesday. It's just 12:12 AM. Anyway, I figured I'd try and post something before the holiday so that I could still post about the holiday on the holiday. Actually, I probably won't post again until Saturday, because I'm kind of a slacker, but you get the gist. Anyway, let's carry on:

I don’t post as often as I should. I think I was meaning to post on Sunday ‘cause I’d had kind of an interesting day. But now, for the life of me, I can’t remember what I was going to write about. I need to keep a little journal in my back pocket or something, so I can write down all the memorable things that people say and can put them down on here. Also, I’m probably one of the laziest people I know. I need to remind myself that blogging is not a chore, it’s something that I enjoy. Can you remember that, Steph? No.
On Friday, I spent from three thirty until about seven hanging out with Rachel at the coffee shop down the street from our school and then back at my house for about twenty minutes. We would have had a sleepover or something in order to get a portion of our social activity with one another taken care of, but she had to go to freaking Arizona for Thanksgiving.
Anyway. The beginning of this week was kind of fun. Up until Sunday I’d had no social activity whatsoever since that Friday (a long time, I know) until Jake and his dad decided to drive all the way out from Golden to come eat at the restaurant I work at. I already mentioned this, I believe. Anyhow, I had gotten my Starbucks to drink and quite literally had nothing to do, because I’m a hostess, and it was really slow. I’m beginning to think that I should get into watching football so I can be entertained by the televisions which adorn the bar. So, eventually, a tall, thin figure and a short one next to him appeared at the door. I waved.
“I hear you’re the best hostess in town!” Mr. M chuckled.
I rolled my eyes, taking the menus from the hostess stand and placing them on my hip. “Yeah, ‘cause all I do is run into fish tanks and be egregiously awkward in front of everyone.”
Brittany, the waitress stopped and gaped at me. “You probably shouldn’t be telling customers about your failures.”
Inward groan.
Anyway, I sat them in the booth not directly behind where I’m supposed to stand so I couldn’t hear them eating chips. And, because it was dead slow, I was also able to stand around and talk to them for a good hour and a half. It was great fun! And, instead of me being the awkward one, Jake kept us entertained by choking on his water and sniffling because his burrito came with green chili instead of red.

On Monday, because both of us were beyond bored, Rebekah and I decided to have a sleepover at her house. My family was also still sick and hacking their lungs out, so I thought it would be good to escape and thus remain healthy for a few days longer. Somehow, I’m still holding up.
The very first thing I noticed about her house, more accurately, her room, was that she has a huge obsession with Celtic Thunder. She had all kinds of posters, photos, and autographs taped to her bedroom walls. I felt like I needed to bleach my eyes…they were wearing kilts!
Our first activity was taking a very long walk all over the place. We found dead fish. I wore my hoodie backwards. We found a toy fire truck bigger than my entire arm and played with it. We saw a squirrel. We sat on a bridge. We sat on a bench. We talked and talked and talked and didn’t get tired of it.
After our walk, we returned to her humble abode and took more pictures than I think I ever have taken before in my life in one sitting. She has yet to post them on Facebook, but I’m probably going to have at least fifty new photos of me up by the end of the week. Seriously, it was intense. (Kind of like what, Rachel?) Also, since I brought my guitar, we did a mini band practice with just me and her. I learned two new songs on the guitar, which is a lot for me in one sitting, but it was still loads of fun. I’m beginning to have a new appreciation for music that I never had before.
Apparently, she and her sister both really enjoy the show iCarly, which I’ve was not familiar with at all. I guess it’s a show on Nickelodeon. I thought it was a little bit immature for my taste, since I’m one to thoroughly enjoy a good episode of Seinfeld any day. It had a few funny sayings, which I thought were entertaining. I don’t think I’ll be selling my soul to this show, however, any time soon. I did get her acquainted with the FOX TV show, Glee, because she is a both a singer and a dancer. When she said she’d never watched it before, I was in shock. How could someone like Bekah not be affiliated with a show so compatible with her interests? It just seemed unheard of!
The next day, we started the off with bagles (which I thought was funny because she’s half Jewish) and then went to physical therapy. We’d called Jake and Brice to see if we could get together and play some music because we’re sort of the only committed members of the sophtie band. We’re in the middle of learning some new songs at the moment, but I’m thinking that we need to stick to the same set-list until we can make something sound nice for once. Then we can move on.

The entire practice was fueled on freshly-baked cookies and coffee. We did goof off um, a lot, and my guitar pick ended up in a certain boy’s mouth, but altogether it was pretty cool. I can’t wait until next Tuesday so we can get together and do it all again…but with our beloved drummer this time!

(No, these pictures do not have anything to do with the post,
in case you're wondering or confused.)

Today, I was holed up in my room yet again because of my sick family. My dad actually made a comment on how he hadn’t seen me at all that day. I thought that was pretty weird, because I definitely saw him multiple times as I came up and down the stairs to get certain things. I didn’t actually do a whole lot. I made a list of things to do on my school whiteboard and did none of them. Nada. Zilch. Wait, actually, that’s a lie. I didn’t play on the Sims 2, which was one of the things on my to-do list telling me not to do. (Weird sentence.)

I watched Glee.
I watched Raising Hope.
I read some fanfiction. (PATHETIC, I know!)
I ate lunch.
I made Rachel a pretty sick CD. The fun isn’t in making the playlist – it’s creating the CD case. I think I spent two or three hours on it and used about half a pad of Post-Its. (Come to think of it, I never texted her back two hours ago. Frick. The poor kid’s stuck in Arizona with her extended family.)

Tomorrow should be interesting. I have no idea what we’re going to go do, seeing as we can’t go to a movie or go to a play because I’m so freaking handicapped. We’re ordering our “feast” from Sprouts Natural Grocers because my mom is sick, and can’t figure out an activity to do as a family without driving me up the wall with sounds. I have no idea what’s happening, like I said. I promise I’ll blog about it and let you all know.
Happy Thanksgiving, world! I hope it’ll be a good one for everybody.

Just A Day Late

This was all written yesterday morning, I just didn’t get around to posting it:

EEP EEEP EEP EEEP EEP!
I nearly jumped out of my jammies as soon as the alarm on my cell phone began to sound at eight-thirty this morning. I grabbed the device positioned comfortably next to my pillow and quickly silenced it, thinking that I’d just sleep five minutes longer. Because I usually set three consecutive alarms to ensure that I will wake up to one of them, I had to repeat this two more times before giving up and deciding to sleep until nine. But the next time I opened my eyes and checked the clock, it wasn’t nine, but ten-thirty.
Some days, I hate myself.
Technically, I don’t have school today, but had wanted to get a head-start of everything anyway, because I knew that I didn’t have a lot of homework to do and wanted to complete all of it today. But, now that that was out, I decided to galumph down the stairs and find a suitable breakfast. An Oreo.
Where in the world is my mother? I couldn’t help thinking as I bit down and walked back upstairs to my room. Though my hair is naturally straight, sleeping on my stomach from eight to ten didn’t do very much good for my bangs, which were sticking up awkwardly in random directions. After trying a few different hairstyles and laughing at myself about how pathetic I was, I thought about sending a picture to Rachel just to show her that I am not, in fact, able to pull off everything under the sun. But I didn't, seeing as I looked anything but attractive at the moment.
The rest of the morning, I struggled to remain focused as I tried to email myself the online link for my Spanish assignment and then print it off on the downstairs computer. My Internet Explorer homepage, however, contains about seven different tabs, one of which is Facebook, so I ran into that obstacle a few more times while completing my task.
In all, I believe I spent two hours this morning trying to calculate the age difference between me and the rest of the kids in my class, looking at Mornings With Brant’s wall photos from CURE International in Afghanistan, and commenting on other people’s statuses. Am I pathetic, or am I pathetic?
By the time my mother had made it back from Bible Study, I hadn’t even noticed her absence. She had a few mini bundt cakes from a shop in Littleton which she and the other ladies at church had been sampling for the Christmas Woman’s Dessert. I am supposed to play cello for it in a few weeks, apparently. Joy, oh, joy.
And now, here I am after I’ve finished my History homework and my Spanish homework typing away at my computer. Last night, I’d been encouraged to put another post up to entertain the other kids at school who now read my blog, and I couldn’t think of anything to post about. And then I thought about band practice and my long conversation with Rachel on the phone last night, and my uneventful/eventful morning today. I’m still supposed to do the dishes, because I was too busy last night socializing to complete them, but haven’t even started. I can’t find my special shoe inserts so my back doesn’t hurt when I do them, but I doubt my mother is going to take that excuse when she wakes up from her nap and remembers my unfinished task.

Yesterday was Tuesday, meaning that band practice wasn’t far away. Every week on Tuesdays, we always stay after school and practice on the stage for two hours. Two weeks ago, we had a fantastic get-together and were able to play and harmonize without much difficulty. Yesterday was different. Due to lack of planning on both Jake and my parts, the rest of the band was uninformed about what we were playing, what the chords and lyrics were, and how the heck we were going to put it all together. And we’d forgotten about the sheet music to the songs we’d originally been practicing.

It was chaos.
We’d talked about learning “Hero” by Abandon and figured out the guitar and cello parts to it, but entirely forgot about getting Rebekah to learn the lyrics and/or piano, and Brice, our drummer, who wasn't going to have a part written out.
Also, I’m beginning to think that there needs to be some behavioral structure to our group. I believe I need a whistle or something so that when Bekah is playing The Pink Panther on the piano while Brice is spazzing out on the drums, and Jake is playing some fiddle accompaniment on the guitar, I can get everyone to quit it and focus. It gets a little out of control sometimes. I actually had to smack Jake upside the head at one point.
I was talking to Rachel on the phone afterwards at nine-o-clock and she’d suggested that the next time we get together, we should just sit around and talk about the band. If we’re going to have any structure, everyone needs to agree on things. We still don’t have a name or anything! So I think the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, we are just going to get together and discuss things. Maybe spend some time in prayer, and have some simple worship together with a single guitar. That sounds good to me. (A if you’re in my band, please talk to me and let me know what you think.)

Later after school, as I said, I talked to Rachel on the phone for almost two hours. I kind of just felt like I needed to have a conversation with someone that day, and since I can relate to this girl so well, I thought I’d call her up. Lately, I’ve been dwelling too much on how my 4S is progressing angrily and getting much worse than it has ever been before. I’ve gotten so I can’t really eat with my family at dinner anymore without having to listen to my iPod. I’ve also foiled just about all of my family’s Thanksgiving plans to go see a play or a Christmas movie because I can’t stand being in a crowd of people. I’ve told them over and over again that they should just go anyway and leave me at home, because I don’t want to interfere with them having a good time as a family, and I can stay home and watch a movie in the quietness of the basement while they go to a theatre full of people munching on popcorn.

I also told her of my nervousness about going on my class’ Costa Rica trip this summer because about fifteen parents (almost more than the number of sophomores attending) are coming too. I’ve noticed that many of the home school mothers enjoy chewing gum, which is #1 on my list of things I hate. I’m afraid that I won’t be allowed to bring my iPod with me, or worse, be able to charge it anywhere. What if someone very obnoxious is sitting behind me on the plane? What am I supposed to do then?
So, obviously, I’m getting very frustrated with existing. As I’ve said before, it’s not reasonable for me to commit suicide, but I still think about it a lot. And, you know, now that I have a blog which everyone I know is reading, I feel like I can’t really say that anymore. (But, point taken, I am posting it now. I'm not entirely sure why. You're all big kids and can handle it, right?)

But the yesterday, I just needed to say all those things to someone. And since Rachel has 4S, too, she’s also the only other person in the world who understands what I’m talking about and was able to give me some good advice.  I love how we're so similar in just about every aspect of our lives, and that she can always me feel like I'm not completely bizarre.What are the odds that God would just put someone like that in my life so suddenly when I need it?

To Write Love On Her Arms

My handiwork (right), and my friends' (left).

 Mission Statement:

"To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.


"You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you're part of a bigger story. You need to know that your life matters.
We live in a difficult world, a broken world. My friend Byron is very smart - he says that life is hard for most people most of the time. We believe that everyone can relate to pain, that all of us live with questions, and all of us get stuck in moments. You need to know that you're not alone in the places you feel stuck.


"The vision is that community and hope and help would replace secrets and silence.
The vision is people putting down guns and blades and bottles.
The vision is that we can reduce the suicide rate in America and around the world.
The vision is that we would learn what it means to love our friends, and that we would love ourselves enough to get the help we need.
The vision is better endings. The vision is the restoration of broken families and broken relationships. The vision is people finding life, finding freedom, finding love. The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise. The vision is people becoming incredible parents, people breaking cycles, making change.

The vision is the possibility that your best days are ahead.

The vision is the possibility that we're more loved than we'll ever know.

The vision is hope, and hope is real.

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story" (TWLOHA).

I know this is kind of a short and belated post, but yesterday was To-Write-Love-On-Her-Arms Day!

TWLOHA is an organization which is making an effort to prevent teen suicide and self-harm. I actually have a link on the side of my site which goes to their website.
And real quick to those of you from school, I'd like to say thanks for supporting me by letting me draw on your arms yesterday! It really did mean a lot, and I hope your parents didn't get mad at you for letting me give you tattoos. I think it was worth it.

Quite Simply, Life is Beautiful

First of all, today was a great day; as are most these days. I was almost late for school due to complications with my sister’s car resulting in my mother having to drive all three of us to separate schools. When I arrived, Rachel tackle-hugged me, but I kind of had to wriggle away ‘cause I was going to be late for Algebra. Which, in that class, I didn’t understand the lesson the least bit because I’m so mathematically handicapped. So that was frustrating. Anyhow, the passing period before the next class, I was like, “Okay, let’s try this again,” and then we were able to SNL roommate huggle.
During study hall in fourth period, I was forced to endure another period with the one woman mentioned in the Pink Shirt post who chews/pops gum and has it all the time. Let me give you a little tip, I will like you as long as you never, ever happen to have gum in your mouth. You lose a little of my respect every time I see you with it.
Also, Colorado recieved its first snow of the year today! Way to be late, weather.
After school, we were able to go to the coffee shop (down the street from school) following watching an Alive at 25 seminar, which does nothing for a teenager except for scare them out of ever wanting to drive again. “If you think this won’t happen to you, it will!”
Thank you, Riley Raincloud.
Anyhow, (erasing all bunnytrails) at the coffee shop, Rebekah, Rachel, Josh F. and I were able to hang out and just have a good time together. All of us, except maybe Josh - I think, got hot chocolate and some sort of baked goods to consume after such a long and exuberating day. I asked everyone about their day, because that’s what I do, and made conversation. I found out that Rachel saves all of my text messages (Everybody say ‘Aw!’). I found out that Rebekah is almost a black-belt. I learned that snorting sugar up your nose with a straw, as illustrated by Josh, is both painful and entertaining. And also that whenever I text Bekah or Rachel, they bounce around their rooms going, “Yayayay! I got a text message from Steph! Yayayay!” Which was, you know, kind of sweet in a juvenile sort of way, but I don’t really care one way or another.
After school (I just remembered I didn’t do the dishes…) I talked to Rachel on the phone for two hours and four minutes. Let me tell you, all those seconds really added up to an interesting conversation. It’s weird how you can be so blatantly honest with some friends, and never tell your family a thing about it. I feel like I could tell Rachel anything and she wouldn’t care the slightest bit. Like, if I was, say, lesbian, she’d probably still accept me for who I am. (That is truly an example; I’m as straight as yellow hay.)

I dunno. It was like we talked about anything and everything, no secrets anywhere. I can tell you right now, I haven’t just been able to do that for…what seems like forever. We talked about boys we’ve liked, friends we’ve had, freshman year, fights, school caste systems, my first day of this year compared to hers, suicide, depression, college, sound sensitivity, fun things, music, art styles, God, and just about everything that came to mind. Mind you, the brain of a teenage female can sure jump around from subject to subject.
I just…I don’t know, I wanted to post and say how much I really appreciated someone just sitting down with me for two hours and talking to me about everything under the sun and not getting tired of anything I have to say. That just hasn’t really happened with me for a long time. Honesty can be such a beautiful thing. Incredibly…freeing. Like, if you think I say too much about everything I feel about life on this blog, I’m sure you’d be surprised about the things which have never been mentioned here.
I’d like to make it official that I no longer have more bad things going on in my life than good. My little scale has been flipped around, and the good finally outweighs all the…shit. (Sorry for the sudden vulgarity, but there is no better word to place there, honestly.) I’d also like to make it official that, while I still think about suicide, I don’t think it’s worth it anymore. I have too much to be happy about and thankful to God about right now to speed up the process of death, which I’m sure some of you will be happy to hear. Just speaking with Rachel today has reminded me of really how far I’ve come. It’s kind of awesome to look back on and see how God has been providing for me all along, even in the places where I thought nothing good would ever come out of.
I love it, quite simply.