Brotherly Love?

So I'm currently sitting in the lobby of my hotel in Philadelphia. The city of Brotherly Love. But really? How brotherly or loving is it?

According to this guy I met on a boat ride in NYC, the murder rate from January to March of this year was higher than all of NYC last year. Do you know how insane that is? Of course, I don't know if this is actually true. it's all hearsay, but even if it was only partially correct, that still is crazy to think about.

I'm a rather hard core Catholic. I'm not gonna lie. And while I don't agree with everything the Catholic Church or the Pope has to say, I do believe in a lot of it. Like that we must treat our neighbors as ourselves. Basically to practice brotherly love.

In today's society though it's so hard to believe in brotherly love. With the number of teen deaths by shootings this year in Chicago going up the wazoo (this I know is true. I used to know the exact number, but from the beginning of the last school year (this past September) until the end, (This June) the numbers were higher than usual), with the war in Iraq and Afghanistan only growing, how could anyone possibly believe that there are good people in the world who really do believe in brotherly love.

But I suppose that's what faith is all about. Believing in the impossible. And hoping that everything will turn out alright.

Private Conversation

I'm crazy about this boy.

But based upon previous encounters, I don't think he realizes it. I didn't even realize it until something strange happened. I cancelled plans with another guy so I could hang out with him. Apparently he doesn't see the significance in this, but I do. Usually I cancel plans with this boy for other people. I'll tell him that I'm busy, or that my parents said I couldn't go. And instead I'll go out with someone else.

It doesn't help matters that I spent an hour last night crying and eating $5 worth of chocolate because of a third boy. One that I thought I was completely over, but I guess finding out that he was going out with my best friend (again) just kind of hurt. This third boy and I were kind of in limbo. We weren't together, but we weren't NOT together, if that makes any sense. I technically wasn't allowed to see him, but was willing to look past that and defy my parents wishes.

At the beginning of the summer we were really close. And then I guess that between him going out of town and us not really ever seeing each other or talking, he moved on. It would have been nice to know this though. Because then maybe I could have started moving on as well. But I didn't know. And so when I found out that he was hanging out with my best friend, I thought nothing of it. They're good friends. They should be allowed to hang out. Besides I had no claims on him. Apparently on this non-date. He kissed her. I didn't care. I really didn't.

But then I found out they were going out again. He made plans with her right after he came home from a vacation, but he didn't even tell me he was home. I guess I felt betrayed. And oh my gosh did it hurt. I didn't blame my friend. I didn't even really blame him. How could I? I had no claims. But it surprised me. It caught me off guard. And the hurt I felt through me for a loop.

About a half and hour into my crying/chocolate fest, I realized how stupid it was for me to be upset. And that really, I wasn't. And I'm not. Ok. I'm upset. But not because he went out with her. But because he didn't have the decency to tell me that we were through. And don't think I made this clear to guy number one. Because he got pissed at me. I think he thought that I still had feelings for guy number three. And maybe I kind of do. But they're not the same feelings that I had in the past. I have a soft spot for him, yes, but that's because we've been through so much together. We've had this thing that's been going on since February and has gone on until today. Now we are strictly friends. And I think that's a really good thing.

Now I guess I just have to go and explain all this to the guy I'm crazy about. And hope he doesn't get pissed at me. Even though I'm sure he will. I'm going to tell him that I'm giving up every guy that I could have for him, but he'll find some way to get pissed at me.

Oh Merlin. What the bloody hell am I going to do?

I am

So I went to see my college counselor for the first time today, and she asked me a very peculiar question: "If your friends were to describe you to someone, what would they say?" And I had no idea how to answer her. Maybe I was looking for the perfect all-encompassing answer that is not present, but I just couldn't answer. So then she said: "Well, just think about it. Who are you?"

So that got me thinking. Who am I? It should be a relatively easy question to answer, and at first it is.

I am a girl.
I am 17.
I am a Mexican-German American.
I am a lover of cats and dogs and most things furry.
I am an avid reader.
I am a Jane Austin and Harry Potter fanatic.
I am a Chicagoan.
I am a Berwynite.
I am the product of some southern upbringing.
I am a barefoot walker.
I am a girl.
I am a lover, not a fighter.
I am compassionate.
I am sarcastic.
I am a brunette.
I am tan.
I am sitting down.
I am a piano player.
I am a singer.
I am a sometimes diver and a sometimes swimmer.
I am without a driver's licence.

Is that enough? Is that who I am? I don't know. I can probably go on for hours listing what I am, but where will that get me? Will it make me realize the potential I have? Will it make me feel better? I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe it will. Maybe that's why she wants me to think about it. I guess if I have to sell myself to a college, make them WANT me, I have to know why. I have to know who I am before I can go out into the world and try to make something of myself. I guess this all makes sense now.

If I am all of these things, then who are you?

Cold Coffee

So this morning, as I was perusing through blogs when I should probably be studying for finals, I somehow sat around long enough to let my coffee get cold. There wasn't a lot left in the cup, but it really bothered me.

Coffee is my pride and joy. I can make a mean cup o'jo. I like it simple, a little bit of cream, a little bit of sugar, none of this "Skinny, vanilla latte with three pumps instead of four, extra hot with extra maple syrup" nonsense. For me, despite how many times I've been in there, going to a Starbucks is like stepping into another world. A world where they speak a language that I could never understand. I hate making a scene, and I hate being a bother, so I would never actually ask what's in my coffee and how I can make it better to suit my own personal taste. Plus it's always so busy in there that there's no way I could actually do that.

The other reason my coffee went cold?

No, it's not that I'm sitting in my dad's cool (as in the temperature) office that used to be a porch, but is now closed in with no insulation and a giant picture window. It's because of my mom. I swear to god, that woman drives me insane. Yes, I love her to death, and I totally would dive in front of a bullet to save her just as she would do for me, but I can never just have a normal conversation with her without it turning into a lecture. Usually those lectures are about my bad behavior, or lack of work ethic, or my spending habits. But no matter what, she somehow never fails to turn a good moment in my day into a horrible one. And it's not even that she's mad at me, or lecturing me, it's that she's disappointed in me. Which is the worst thing in the world. I can handle her being mad; I can handle us not talking; I can handle a lot of things when it comes to her, but I've never, ever been able to handle her disappointment. It just makes me feel like such a horrible person. Like no matter what I do, it's never enough. And that doesn't help a teenage girl's self esteem. Mine is low enough as it is without her harping on me.

She's probably right. My life would be a hell of a lot easier if I just did what she told me to do. And I do try. On a daily basis I do try to do what she has told me to do in the past. But all I want to do is forget about her constant lecturing. So it all goes out the window. It doesn't help that I have horrible short term memory.

And I HATE asking her or my dad for anything. So instead I'll wait until the last minute when it's an even bigger inconvenience. But I don't think they realize, that really? I know all along that I said I would bring in bagels for the last day of classes, but instead of asking at four when it would have been a minor inconvenience for multiple people, I wait until nine when it's a major inconvenience for only one person. Everything I do, is based upon what I think my parents' reaction will be. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I get it wrong.

They wonder why I am the way that I am. I don't think they realize, that I am this way because of them. There are no other explanations. Yes, I am my own person, but they influence me more then they will ever realize.

The Rain

So I randomly ran out in the rain today. There was a serious storm here in sunny Berwyn. One of epic proportions. It was like movie rain, coming straight down. Big huge rain drops. It lasted about twenty or so minutes, and now it's nice and clear out.

I never really do anything crazy, so when I decided to call up my best friend to see if she wanted to run out in the rain with me via phone, I thought I was going insane. That's something she'd call me to do. But strangely, she didn't even answer her phone.

So I called another friend. One who... we have a very strange relationship to say the least. So I called him, while he was waiting for a train home. I ran out in the rain with him on the other end, and we had a great conversation. We haven't actually been able to talk for awhile, so it was nice.

But that's not the point of all of this. The rain. It really is one of the coolest parts of nature. I still don't quite know how it works. How does all that moisture stay up in the clouds for so long. And how does it decided that it's too full and needs to let go of some of the moisture. And what about lightning? and thunder!? (Which I know is really just a byproduct of the lighting, I'm not that stupid.)

And what are clouds anyway? Sure, on a nice day they look all puffy and soft like your favorite pillow, but I know that they have no substance, and I could fall straight through it. I've always wanted to sit up on a cloud. You know, like the do in silly children's TV shows? I remember watching Dragon Tales with my brother when he was little, and always marveling at how the kids used to sit up in those clouds, never once falling through.

The rain, I think, is kind of like a good cry. You have all this stuff built up around you, and suddenly you just let it all go. You just let everything out. And then, once the tears stop, and your breathing returns to normal, you get this intense wave of calm that washes over you. Like nothing can go wrong.

I think the same goes for nature and the rain. All this pressure builds up just before a good storm, and when the rain finally pours down, it leave nature and the world around us feeling much calmer than before.

Dreams

So I've really been thinking about the power of dreams lately. I don't have dreams frequently, but when I do, I take them to heart, and I usually love them. Mainly because I hardly ever have them.

Last night, I had approximately three dreams. I think, but only one really stands out. Or maybe that one is the combination of all three? I don't know. Who does?

Anyways, so I had this dream right? And in it, was an ex-boyfriend (we'll call him Jack), and ex-fling (Tony) , and the guy that I still wish something would happen with (Riley). Get this though, they're all best friends. It was the strangest thing ever though. In my dream, I woke up and went downstairs, and all of them were sitting in my back room, and my mom was making breakfast and tea for them. The bazaar part? My mom hates Tony.

Now, up until about a week ago, I had a HUGE shot at having something happen with Riley, who I've been half in love with (maybe not really, but that's the best way to describe it) for the past school year. Last weekend, I was supposed to hang out with him, my best friend, and his best friend, who happens to be Tony. The point of all of us hanging out though, was so that something could happen between Riley and I. But by the end of the night, it was as though Tony and I were supposed to be together. Which normally I wouldn't have cared about, but looking back on it, I hated. I really really really wanted something to happen between me and Riley.

Gosh, I'm such a girl. I know I'm totally blowing this all out of proportion, but I don't know what else to do. Anyways, so on like Monday when I saw Riley, he said he was done. That because Tony liked me and stuff that nothing was ever going to happen, etc. And gosh did that hurt. Because on the car ride home with my best friend, I realized that really? I didn't like Tony anymore, and that really? I wanted to be with Riley in any way, shape, or form. Even if that meant not really having a relationship, but more of a fling type thing going.

Part of me wants to think that he still wants to be with me too. But because of his loyalty to his friend, that will never happen. And at this point, I'm trying to rack my brain with ways that I can get him back. But I don't know how to.

How does this all relate to the dream, you ask? Well, until early this morning, I had basically given up on anything happening with Riley. I was indifferent to him and the whole situation, but now? Now I realize that I don't care what he says, I'm still gonna try my hardest to get him and to get Tony to understand that I don't want to be with Tony anymore (despite the fact that in the past week I have told him that like three times. I have serious issues, I know.) and that really I want to be with Riley. Now it's just a matter of trying to figure out how to do that.

Facebook Official

Until today, I was listed as "Married" to one of my good friends. It was a joke that started when one of his best friends, and my ex-boyfriend actually, thought there was something going on between us. We decided to mess with him and kinda play it up a little. (In reality, the boy is like my brother. Which made the entire situation kinda wierd. Except, I totally would marry him if I had to make a spur of the moment decision. I could live with him the rest of my life and be totally content, perhaps even happy.)

Anyway, so he got rid of the 'status' section on his facebook with in the past few days, leaving me as just being "Married" basically, to no one. Normally, this wouldn't bother me, and to tell you the truth, it doesn't. It was just strange. I've been so used to having it there that it was wierd to suddenly look at my page to find that I was no longer married to a person, but just married in general.

It made me wonder about what facebook really does to relationships. When my friend and I first "married" via facebook, a lot of people actually asked me if there was something going on between the two of us. Which to me was quite absurd. But I suppose that to them, it wasn't. There are so many actual couples on facebook that are listed as "Engaged" or "Married" even though they are like 16 years-old.

It also made me ponder the phrase, "Facebook official." It seems like so many things are really, real until they're on facebook. Relationships aren't completely valid until you're listed as "in a relationship" on facebook. But really, what difference does it make to other people if you're in a relationship? Perhaps it makes finding a person to ask out easier. If they're listed as "in a relationship," you know not to go for them. But why does everyone need to know when you've ended your relationship?

So what do you think? Are you facebook official?

Mama

I wanted to update today to wish a Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's out there. I know that I would be nothing with out my mom, and aunts, and cousins, and grandmothers, so I'm sure that all of your family feels the same way.

So here's my shout out to my mom.

She's an amazing woman. She is the strongest person I know, and she does more for me and my family than I think that I ever could. I strive to be like her, and yet I know that I probably never will. I may come close at times, but there's no way that I could be exactly like her. That's just not possible. :)

I don't feel like writing any more. I need to work on a final paper for school. But later I will come back and regale you with stories of my mom and her hard work and dedication to not only my family, but so many others in our neighborhood.

QUESTION!

How do you break up with a boy who you're not even going out with? Not TECHNICALLY going out with that is.

Reality

So for the first time in my life, no, more like the second time in my life, the reality of the world around me has finally set it.


I know I haven't posted anything in awhile, but it's because everything I would have posted just made me sound like a silly little girl who is so wrapped up in her own problems. But now there are bigger problems at hand.


For a very long time now, more months than I can count. I think it's been over a year, the economy has pretty much been at rock bottom. None of that really hit me though. For me, it's sort of like the war going on in Iraq. We know about it, but we're so detached from it, so desensitized that when we hear about it, the graveness of the situation never really hits us. Until something happens to someone we know. Or until it effects a family we know.


The same goes for the economy. Every time I watch the news it just seems like everything is getting worse, but no one in my family ever really acts like it is. Sure, we talk about the fact that the economy is circling the drain, and we talk about the reforms Obama wants to make, etc., etc., but it's never really hit home. Well. Now it has.

My dad worked in the steel mills around Chicago from the time he got out of college until I was in fourth grade. Now, my dad is really smart. He went to IIT (Illinois Institute of Technology) and received his degree in Chemical Engineering. At the time he graduated, the oil companies were going through hard times, and he could not find a job where his degree would be in great use. So he worked in steel mills.


We moved around a bit when I was really young. I lived the first three or so years of my life in Arkansas where my dad was working. Then we moved to Memphis for a summer, but before we could ever be permanently situated there, my dad realized that he couldn't stand his job and we moved back to our small home in Berwyn, IL. This was when I was in about first grade.


I was... 10, I think, on September 11, 2001. And my life really crumbled a bit. I was young, so I never truly realized how horrible the situation was, but looking back I realize how much worse it could have been. The steel industry was going through horrible set backs. No one was buying any, no one was producing any. My dad lost his job. He wasn't unemployed for very long. He ended up finding a job where he worked in Mexico at a plant supervising for about six weeks or so. He went down there twice, and then he found a job as a plant manager for a grease company soon after that. Then the economy went up, and everything seemed to be alright.


I don't remember why, but a little more than a year ago, my dad switched jobs within the company. He was now selling the grease he once produced to steel mills. And I thought everything was going fine. My dad had never been a salesman in his life, but he had connections in the steel mills, so it sort of worked out for him. Everything seemed to be going fine. But then of course, when is anything ever as it seems.


This morning my dad came home from a meeting with his boss and his boss' boss. He has been layed off. Due to cut backs in the company.


Part of me knew this was coming. I am part of a family, both immediate and extended, where eavesdropping is a big thing. Everyone does it. Everyone knows everyone else's business regardless of whether it is said through a loud speaker or whispered into an ear.

This will be a hard, hard time. But then again, I suppose that's what reality is: the cold, hard truth. If we can make our way through it to the other side, then we will be stronger people who try to change the reality they live in and shape it to the reality they want it to be.

Author's note:
This was written like three weeks ago, but never published. I am publishing it now, regardless of how I think people will respond. I'm going to take a chance in letting people know, for once, what's going on in my life. Since this was written, my dad has had several interviews, and everything looks hopeful. But then again, it has only been three weeks.

War Paint

So I was on the train this morning on my way to school. As per usual, I rummaged through my bag to find my wallet, which also houses my monthly train pass.

While rummaging, I realized that I had my makeup bag with me. There's not much in it: two eyeliners, two mascaras, a blush, a concealer, a foundation, and an eyeshadow... ok maybe there is a lot in there. It didn't seem like much at the time, and the bag itself isn't even completely full.

The point of the matter is that as I was sitting there contemplating whether I should put on the makeup, it occurred to me: Why is it that women feel the need to wear make up? Why is it that we must always be the must fashionable, the best looking, and the one that stands out from all the rest?

We as women are so caught up in our looks, but I don't know why. I've never understood the fascination with lotions and other magic potions that are supposed to make your skin look younger or reduce the wrinkles or boost the collagen in your skin. Who cares about it all? We're human. We're not supposed to be perfect or look perfect or have the perfect anything. Life isn't about perfection. It's about the imperfections.

My opinion is this: wrinkles? They should not be covered up or fretted over. Wrinkles show that we are real. We have been through life, and despite all the hardship, we made it through. Wrinkles show that we know how to laugh. They show that we know how to cry. They are what makes us real to the next generation. When I look at pictures of women from earlier in the century. Women who did not have the greatest lives, I don't see wrinkles that make them ugly. I see a map of everywhere they have been in their lives. It adds grace and it adds character.

I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy. But is it crazy to think that American women spend way too much time and money on making sure they look good. And for who? For themselves... maybe, but more likely it's for a man in their life. And do you know how depressing that thought is. To define who you are and what you look like upon a standard set by a man.

I don't wear a lot of makeup. And I don't wear it very often. So I'm really hoping that I don't turn into one of those women who live off of the cosmetics department/aisle.

In the Computer Lab

So I'm in the computer lab at school right now. It's pretty sweet. My friends and I are planning out how to make a giant March Madness bracket that we're going to hang outside the A.P. Bio Lab. We're not sure just how it's gonna be done. And we realize that we're doing this a little bit late, but we're hoping that it'll be done by the end of the weekend. Then we can mess with it during the coming weeks.

This is where I segway into my love of college basketball. Well, really just March Madness. I love putting together my brackets and doing research on the teams. I don't know when this started. I want to say in the past couple of years.

My mom has always had a love of sports: baseball, college basketball, football. And this love has passed to me as well . Baseball and football are my favorites, but college basketball just does something to me. It instills a sense of excitement. Everyone is rooting for different teams as opposed to everyone cheering for the same team. The biggest rivalry in my school is Cubs v. Sox. We don't even talk about the stupid Chicagoans who root for the Packers instead of the Bears. We just ostracize them. :)

The Crushing of a Dream

So I found out today that apparently I'm not allowed to go to Jr. Prom.

This is a horrible, horrible thing.
I was really looking forward to it.

And really, I think the reasoning for me not being allowed to go to prom is pretty stupid. I already paid my punishment. This is like being in jail, finishing your sentence, and then being sent back a year into your freedom for the crime you were already in jail for.

Basically it goes like this:

I came home an hour late after the last school dance, Turnabout, in late January. I was grounded for like two weeks, and then my mom decided that because of that, and the events that ensued on Valentines day (see The Puppy), I would not be able to date my date. (Ha. that sounds funny.) She said I could not date the guy I went to the dance with.

So basically I've been twice punished already. 1) I was grounded, 2) I can't go out with the guy.

I will admit that it is mostly my own fault for arriving home late after Turnabout. I insisted on going out, but he didn't persist. (Not that I would have expected him too.)

Anyways, after that my mom might have said something about me not being allowed to go to Jr. Prom. But that was a long time ago. And I didn't think she was actually being serious. Serious enough that she would enforce stricter rules, but not serious enough to actually not let me go.

The saddest part about this is that the guy I want to go with... the guy with whom I will be going with if I can negotiate my way out of this... she loves! The guy reminds my dad of his best friend, and my mom loves him. How could she possibly think that what happened at Turnabout would happen again?

Although I should admit that part of me is not entirely content with my date. He's like my best friend. And I definitely have feelings for him. The fluttering of my heart whenever I'm near him should be enough proof. But it's hard for me to see the two of us actually being together. He can be a rather awkward person at times, and this makes it difficult for me to visualize the... more physical aspects of a relationship. Plus he's been my best friend for so long, that part of me sees him as a brother. (Mind you that's a small piece.) On top of that, I definitely have feelings for another guy.

It's very difficult for me to explain why. We sort of have a love/hate relationship. More in the sense that there are days that I love him and days that I hate him. I don't think he likes me beyond the physical though. I mean, I believe that he genuinely thinks of me as a friend, and he likes the fact that I'm intelligent and don't put up with his crap, but I don't think he has feelings for me beyond that of a friend. He once told me that I was the only girl he could actually be himself around. And I thought that it was some momentous thing. Apparently it wasn't though because it amounted to nothing. I really believe that he is a lost cause when it comes to a relationship in any way, shape, or form, but it's nice to think about. And I really do like him, despite the fact that I know it's detrimental to my mental health.

Basically, the whole point of this very journal like post is that... although I have a date to jr. prom, a dance I probably will NOT be going to, and although I adore my date emensely, part of me will always want to go with a different guy. And I don't know how to get over that.

Preventative Measures

So I'm supposed to be correcting my Jr. Research paper right now. The boy spoken of in my last real post corrected it for me. He gave me a B-. The Last person who corrected it gave me an A. I don't know what he saw that was so different from someone who is just as smart as him. But that's not the point of this post.

My paper is about childhood vaccines and why they should be mandatory. For the paper, I am require to present both sides of the issue. It's basically one giant pro/con paper with a strong conclusion as to what I would do if I was king of the world. Well, if I was king of the world, I would make them mandatory, but then people might get mad at me and resent me and then want to kill me. And we wouldn't want that would we?

So basically I am very much for forced vaccination. Although I admit that some of the arguments against it are valid, most of them are ludicrous. The one I despise the most is the one that says, "Vaccines cause autism."

Vaccines do not cause autism... or at least there is no proof for it. All previously confirmed evidence has since been disproven. The mercury in Thimerosal is not at all linked to people with autism.

And seriously? The chance that your child will get sick from the vaccine is much smaller than the chance that your child could die from not receiving the vaccine and contracting the virus itself.

That's my opinion.

Based upon Mr. Skelding's true statement about my last entry. I will now explain my own stupidity in my current situation.

So basically I am a giant flirt. And that has led me to be in a really really bad situation. Because of my stupid actions, I now have a group of boys who happen to like me, and I have to break all of their hearts', except maybe one.

Conor sad that it wasn't fair, the way that I made a general blanket statement about boys being stupid and performing rather idiotic actions. This very short entry is to explain that while I believe that boys are stupid, I know that girls are too.

The Puppy

So for Valentine's Day, I received this really cute stuffed animal from my... I don't know what to call him exactly. Currently we're friends. At the time I suppose he could be called a prospect? I liked him, he liked me. It all seemed like it would work out. And then Valentine's Day arrived. And he decided to act in a fashion that resembles that of most boys: like an idiot. I suppose, however, that I should not complain, for I will have a wonderful story to tell for the rest of my days.

Basically what happened, was this boy, scaring the crap out of me in order to leave me a Valentine's Day gift. Normally, I would find this type of behavior quite endearing, but unfortunately, my terror, caused me to awaken my parents. It was they who found the puppy sitting with a card and a homemade CD on my front steps, not me. This of course, caused them, a whole lot of anger. It was like 11pm and they were sound asleep when I woke them up.

I suppose I could have been a brave girl and gone and opened the front door myself, but I live on a busy street with a bar on the corner. You never know who's knocking on your door at 10:30, 11 o'clock at night.

I couldn't have asked for a better gift, however. And I don't think he quite realizes this. The puppy, who's name is Lucia, sleeps with me every night. She fits perfectly into my arms because of the way that I sleep: curled up, basically like a cat, in a ball.

Speaking of sleep, I probably should go do that now. I have school in the morning.