writer girl plus internet equals blog

Sorry for being a terrible blogger. Lately I've also been a terrible student, daughter, friend, and blog reader, among other things, so it's not just this part of my life that is suffering. Yay me.

Ahem. Anyway, I promise better posts at some point in the future, but for now, just something I don't really want to share with any of my friends but am for some reason relatively comfortable sharing with the internet in general....

 Three years ago or so, there was a guy, a friend of mine. He was pretty great, and the class I had with him was a part of my day I really looked forward to. He was one of the few people at the time who I felt like I could be myself with. We had some great times in art and gym class (they alternated days and we had both together), and I still can't see a gym uniform from that school or a piece of art I did in that class without thinking about him.

One Thursday, we parted ways after school and he said, "See you tomorrow."

I never saw him again. 

I still don't know what happened. He just vanished. He had existed on the outskirts of school society, so most everyone--teachers and students alike--quickly forgot him. The art teacher moved another kid into his desk just a few days later, just shrugging when I asked where he would sit when he came back.

I haven't really quit thinking about him or his mysterious disappearance without so much as a goodbye. I thought we were friends and I deserved at least that, but apparently not.  At first, I missed having him around, but now, why do I still think about him? Is it some idea of him that I miss, or actually him, or am I just still bothered at the mystery of his disappearance and pissed off that he didn't even say goodbye?

I think it's all three. 

Am I crazy to still spend far too much time searching for some trace of him on the internet when he's a vague memory to the handful of people here who remember him? It's futile; he has a common name. Why do I care so much? Why couldn't I just let him slide quietly out of my life as so many people have done through the years? What's wrong with me? I only knew him for a few months. What about him made that impact on me? I have no idea. Am I crazy?

This year, I applied for a summer program called North Carolina Governor's School, to study Spanish for six weeks this summer. It sounded awesome, and everyone that I knew who had been loved it. I really, really wanted to get in.

Today, I got the news: I didn't make the cut. 

And that really, really sucks. I am so disappointed. I don't know what I'm going to do with my summer. My mom says I have to do something besides stay home. But nothing that costs a lot of money. Which, really, that cuts out a lot. Sure, when one door closes, another opens--but there are a hell of a lot more doors for people with money. Which, is not me. Life's not really fair, is it? 

 I have always felt like high school is just the foundation for my life, not my life itself. High school is the place where the scope of my options is decided. Like: will I get into a good college? What will I study (I'm pretty much decided on international relations, double majoring in a specific cultural study, either latin american or middle eastern)? Where will I live? Etcetera. But my real life? That starts later. It starts in roughly a year and three months, actually. When I graduate high school. 

I'm not saying college is where my life starts, because I don't know if that'll be much realer than high school. It kind of depends on where I go. If I go to UNC (kind of a nightmare, but it is less expensive than my top choices, by far), it will not be real life because at least half of at least the top ten percent of my high school class will go there and I will know people and I will still be in small-ish-town-North-Carolina (albeit a different town). If I go to NYU, then that could be my real life, depending on what I do with the opportunity and experience.

But I'm not talking about college. I'm talking about my gap year. Yay gap year! Hopefully, assuming all of my plans fall into place. Plans are that my friend C and I will buy the cheapest plane tickets to Europe we can find by September 2009, and go! We are saving our money, we are doing research (well, I am doing more research and he is saving more money, but whatever), we are making packing lists and lists of places to look for accomodations and lists of places we want to see and lists of websites to look for cheap tickets. Lists galore! We are hoping that the exchange rate gets better. We are hoping that we travel well together as the only travelling we have done together that is further than the next town over has been on school trips which don't really count. We are planning to see the world, but not just to see it: to hear it, smell it, feel it, taste it, experience it. 

And that, that is where my life begins. My life begins in an airport, no more than eighteen months from now. The countdown began about a year ago when the first vague whisperings of this idea began to call to me, and it's just getting closer and closer. Yet still, it is so very unreal and far away. 

 Society would like to define us all by numbers. Usually, those numbers are on a scale. Or maybe a measuring tape. 

*** society.

How many times can I say it? A number on a scale only defines you if you let it. How many people have I said this to? So, so many. A close friend of mine (who is quite skinny) always complains about how fat she is. 1) She is not fat and 2) Even if she were fat by society's standards, who decides these standards, and who thinks they have the right to fucking judge people because of a number?

Why don't people get it? You define yourself. If you let numbers define you, that's who you are. If you don't let it, you're so much more. How many times do I have to say it to be heard? Why does it feel, so often, like I'm the only one saying it? My family doesn't agree, my friends don't agree, society in general doesn't agree. Brainwashing, anyone?

Don't be brainwashed. Get a fucking clue. It's far too easy to define people by numbers, but it's a fucking lie, that's not who people are, and why don't people get that? 

I really love to ice skate, and I'm not terrible at it, either. I'd be better if there were a rink in my town, but there isn't. Today, though, I skated because I was in Knoxville, which has a rink.

It got me thinking. Ice skating is one of the very few things I've perservered at. Most of the things people tend to think are my big accomplishments-getting published, getting good grades, getting high test scores--are not such a big deal. I mean, they are still really awesome and important, but these are accomplishments in areas that come naturally to me. I've always been good with words and my schoolwork has always come easily.

Ice skating well is, however, quite possibly the achievement I am proudest of, despite its seeming insignificance. Why? Because it was so, so hard and embarrassing at first. I am far from being a natural athlete. The first time I went ice skating since being pushed around the rink a few times as a small child was in late 2006. I went with my friends and fell over twenty times in an hour and a half session without letting go of the wall! I was, to say the least, terrible.

But there was something about it I loved and, despite the embarassment, I've been going back whenever I get the chance since then, and, wow, have I improved. I can skate fast. I can skate steadily,  I can turn and avoid falling (if I fall at all, it's a bad session for me, as usually now I don't) and actually turn my head or look straight ahead and I don't flail my arms and I can keep my head up and back straight. In short, I can actually ice skate, which is nothing short of a miracle for me as I'm the least natural athlete ever.

Why? There's certainly no talent involved. It's sweat and hard work and passion for something that is so incredibly out of character for me, but one of my criteria for choosing a college is that there must be an ice rink within a reasonable distance! Ice skating is my biggest achievement because not one bit of it has ever come easily or naturally.  

News item numero uno: I am definitely going to Toronto (probably in June) to check out the University of Toronto! Yay! I was going to go by myself or possibly with my best friend, but then my dad decided to renew his passport and make it a business trip (he has a client in Toronto. (my dad is a statistician with his own business)). So, my dad and I are going to Toronto. Should be fun!

I am also hoping to get in a trip to Washington, DC, at the very least, before college applications are due, because I want to check out a couple of schools there. I don't think I'll be going anywhere exotically fun in the near future, though.

News item numero dos: Yo soy la bestia! Soy la mejor alumna en Espanol IV en mi escuela (la maestra dijo). Translation: I am the best! I am the best Spanish IV student in my school (the teacher said).

This makes me very happy! Spanish is my favorite subject, and I am actually hoping to get into the governor's school program this summer, which means I would live at college dorms in a city a couple hours away from home and study Spanish for six weeks. Acceptance letters aren't mailed until the last week of March, sadly, but my fingers are crossed.

News item numero tres (and the most important in terms of Red): I interviewed Amy G. on my book blog! Thanks, Amy, for having such interesting answers. For those of you who are interested, it's at  http://teenbookreview.wordpress.com/2008/03/04/interview-amy-goldwasser/.

I will be back with a more interesting blog post later. 

I am definitely a Democrat. I won't be able to vote, but, if I could, I'd vote Democrat. I'm very liberal, to the point, in fact, where I'm more liberal than the nominees, but they're closer to what I believe than John McCain.

But which candidate to support? Clinton or Obama? Me, I am a staunch supporter of Hillary Clinton. Of both the Clintons, really, and some people are upset by the notion of Bill being back in the White House. I'm not. First of all, it's in a different capacity. Second of all, he did great things for this country the first time (and his personal life was none of our business).

Obama and Clinton are similar, politically, on the big issues. What we are deciding between is being practical or being idealists. Sure, I might be an idealist in some ways, but I'm also very practical when it comes to politics. Hillary Clinton is a capable, experienced politician. Barack Obama has big dreams, but I don't think he is capable of making those dreams a reality. Therefore, I choose to go with practicality rather than optimist idealism.

For the Democrats out there--who have you decided to support, and why? Honestly, I'm quite curious.

"No matter what you believe, somebody believes you are going to hell."

It's true, isn't it? We certainly don't agree on religion (we being the human race), by any means. We are Protestants and Jews and Muslims and Zoroastrians and Wiccans and Atheists and Buddhists and Catholics and Mormons and Daoists and so many other things. Everyone believes their belief is the right belief. Everyone believes that all of the other millions and billions of people are wrong (and often this wrong-ness means going to hell). We can't all be right, but we can't all be wrong, either, with such a range of beliefs.

Just something I've been thinking about.

I'm in the spring semester of my junior year of high school, which means I'm looking at colleges. I haven't got long to decide which ones I'm applying to. I'm leaning towards Fordham or NYU, but I want to make some more college visits, too.

This should be my decision. Sure, there are people I ask for advice from, and, yeah, my parents are going to have an opinion whether I ask for it or not. But, really, this is my choice about where to spend four years (or thereabouts; factor in things like study abroad, and maybe less) of my life, so it should be my choice.

Everyone, though, has an opinion.  Everyone from the people who think I should go to community college because it's cheaper (I'm first in my class. I'm not going to go to community college. There's nothing wrong with that if it's what you want, but it is not what I want) to those who think I should be applying to Harvard (despite the fact that I don't want to go to Harvard and probably couldn't get in, anyway, because they have like a nine percent acceptance rate).

My grandmother keeps suggesting odd, random places she thinks I should go, for no apparent reason, and is very persistent about them no matter how many times I tell her I do not want to go to Vermont or Arizona! My grandfather regularly extolls the virtues of Boston (because he's from there). My aunt and uncle, for no apparent reason (they are not from there and have never lived there) tell me Chicago is the place to be. Other people have more specific ideas about exactly what school I should go to. A family friend heard about Stanford's improved financial aid and thinks that's where I belong. My mother says I should go anywhere that offers me a scholarship (no thanks. I'm not going to engineering school, for one). 

I'll stop the list there, but, suffice to say, everyone has an opinion. No matter what my opinion is, they think theirs is best. I am not letting anyone else run my life for me, and the people who know me well--my family--should have figured that out by now. Alas, no.

Obviously, I do write. I wrote my Red essay. I write school assignments. I write in a journal. I write two blogs (one for bookish things, and this one for whatever).

But I don't feel like a writer anymore. I don't feel like I'm capable of writing anything complete and worth reading, which discourages me so much that the only things I can write are, like I said, school assignments and blogs. I don't know how to get out of this rut other than to write, and, yeah, I'm capable of getting words out, but I just feel rather uninspired and unable to write anything but crap. I've been told, "write through it," but it just depresses me. So, while I do write, I don't know if I'm a writer anymore.   

Red is a Readergirlz suggested read this month, right along with some really fantastic books (including Siobhan Vivian’s A Little Friendly Advice and Garret Freymann-Weyr’s Stay With Me, both of which I absolutely adore). Readergirlz is a great program, so I’m truly honored that I and the other Red girls get to be a part of it! Thanks, Readergirlz!

I hope all of you will check out the Readergirlz program!  

All of my very skinny friends complain about how fat they are. My first reaction is, if weight is that important to you, and you think you're fat, then what do you think of me?

My second and more profound thought is, why is weight that important to you? I mean, I do understand why. It is all of the pressure that society puts on girls to be, above all else, thin. We see it every day. We see it in magazines and movies and billboards and everywhere we look--even my beloved books. Do you know, in books where the heroine is not expressly described as fat, the cover model is always so skinny she has bones poking out? I love books, I really do, but I'm so sick of it that I'm considering taking my stand so far as to not read books with skinny cover models unless the character is expressly described as thin! The assumption here is that if someone is not thin, they will moan and gripe about it so much and it will so terribly handicap her life that of course it would be mentioned in a book. But why? Why do people assume that weight should be such an integral part of who we are? There is so much more to everybody. 

There are a million things we should be striving for rather than being thin. We should be striving to be smart, creative, compassionate, loving, diligent, kind--so many things. Beinga  well-balanced, well-rounded individual is so much more important than being thin, but to look at the images we see every day in the media, to see the kind of celebrity-worship we partake in, you'd never guess it. 

And who, furthermore, gets to decide that being thin is the desireable appearance? Because in American culture, that is so important, but in other cultures--many African or Latin American cultures, for example--that's not the ideal. I also read an article in the New York Times that said recently that higher rates of being so-called "overweight" in women in cultures where there's not the stigma attached to it that there is in Caucasian American (and other Western, and also I think many Asian) cultures, do not result in higher mortality rates. The study said that feeling fat is actually a lot worse for your health than actually being fat! Why? Because self-esteem is crucial, and somewhere along the line, somebody decided starving yourself was beautiful, and it stuck.

It used to bother me, not being skinny like my friends, because I equated skinny with beautiful. I equated skinny with successful. I equated skinny with being a worthwhile human being. It's none of those things. It is what it is: skinny, neither good nor bad. In some cultures, it's an ideal. In others, it's something to get away from. Everywhere, all it should be is simply skinny, with no stigma, positive or negative, attached to the word. Just, skinny.

I know this is long, but bear with me. I have a lot of weeks of not blogging to make up for! 

I'm well aware that I currently suck as a blogger. I'll try to do better! It's just that there's this one class I'm really worried about (love the subject matter, hate the class) and when I'm stressed and worried, all I can do is be stressed and worried and upset and I lose the motivation to do much else besides worry (even working to improve the grade is beyond my grasp when I get like this, which really sucks). Things that suffer because of this are: my reading (only twenty-three books in February), my writing (almost nothing besides school assignments and book reviews in February), my relationships with other people (returning phone calls and emails becomes too stressful), and, well, everything. I know, I know. I am working on it. I really truly am. Just by posting this blog, I'm working on it. At least I'm aware of my problems, and isn't that the first step to solving them?

I am home on a Friday night. Fun, fun. Pathetic, really. Why? Because I couldn't be bothered to make plans. I called one of my friends a few minutes ago but she has the SATs tomorrow, so she won't be doing anything tonight. I really do have friends, lots of them, and a social life--but recently you wouldn't know it.

 To make this a little bit of a happier post, I have some news! First of all, by last count I am now first in my class! I was fourth last time rankings came out, so this is a really exciting improvement. Second of all, I pulled an A in Algebra II Honors! That class really challenged me, not in the least because my teacher was awful. I just barely got an A, but letter grades are all that go on our transcripts, anyway, so it works.

In the middle-of-the-road news, I got my SAT scores back. I am not too disappointed in most of it, but I will be taking the test again. In math, I got a 690 (math is always my worst subject). In critical reading, I got a 730 (but missed no vocab questions! Only reading comprehension questions, which are dumb and subjective anyway). In writing, I got a 740--my best score, you'd think, but the one I'm disappointed with. Apparently, I only missed one of the multiple choice writing questions, so that is where the scores are high--but I only got a 6/12 on the essay. I know! And I call myself a writer! That is rather abysmal. I will definitely be working on that. I'm a little embarassed to admit that score on a blog where everyone knows that I'm a published author but I can't get a high score on the SAT essay section. Of course, I know the essay was bad. The essays I write in Spanish class are better, and Spanish is not my native language (it is my favorite language, but that is irrelevant). 

When my scores and grades are low, I totally panic. I worry so much about getting into the right college so that I will be on my way to my career path. Right now, my top pick schools are Fordham and NYU. Yes, I want to live in New York City--not in the least because the United Nations is there, and I want to study international relations and then work for the UN. I feel like I can help people that way, like it is the best use of my talents where I can do some good in the world, and that's my goal for life. The world sucks, and if I can do even one small thing to make it better, then that's what I need to be doing, no matter what my more self-indulgent side would have me do. 

 I stole this post idea from Jordyn :-) I'm going to talk about ten books that have in some way influenced me. In no particular order and without any further ado:

1. Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.  This is the book that I think really made me into the reader I am today. I mean, I'd been a voracious reader since I discovered the Babysitters' Club when I was six, so I can't really explain why I think this book changed me as a reader, but it did. It made me want more!
   
2. Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone by JK Rowling. Cliche'? Yes. True? Yes. I discovered this book when my third-grade teacher began reading it aloud to the class. Harry Potter rapidly became a big part of my life, and of pop culture! The reason this book is important is because the Harry Potter characters are the ones I grew up with. I fell in love with these books at the age of eight, and at sixteen I waited in line last summer for hours to get the seventh and final book at midnight (and then I stayed up all night to finish it, and then I cried). I look back on other books with fondness, and don't stop liking them, but I don't think I've ever actively loved any other series for so long, rereading it and speculating and everything!
3. Bras & Broomsticks by Sarah Mlynowski. It's not the book itself that influenced me; that was fun but not particularly memorable, except for one reason: it was the first book I reviewed on my book blog back in July 2006. Since then, I've gotten the chance to read tons of books I wouldn't have otherwise (and share my opinions on them!), become a part of a great community of YA lit bloggers, and gotten to meet (for the most part, online, but in a few cases, actual real-life meeting) some of my favorite authors! So that's pretty awesome.
4. Hope Was Here by Joan Bauer. This book made me want to be a waitress! Okay, so that's not the reason it influenced me so much (though that's true). Hope is a great character, and she's stuck with me for years. This book is one that ranks high on my all-time favorites list (obviously different from the 'books that influenced me' list), and has consistently since I first read it. It also lead me to discover one of my favorite authors. And it made me change my name to "October" in eighth grade, but that's another story.
   
5. Go Figure by Jo Edwards. If you know this book, you'll think this might be ridiculous and stupid, that it's just fluff. And, yeah, it's a pretty fluffy book in some respects, but it also changed my whole attitude about body image. I don't want to go into detail--that's kind of personal, and I'm not ready to share that, at least not right now--but it is important to me.
6. Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn. Every time I read this book, I am just so, so impressed with it's awesomeness. Like Hope, Cyd Charisse is a character I love, but they are completely different. Cyd Charisse is something of an inspiration; she's tough, she's herself, but she's also remarkably real for a fictional character! Also, this book makes me want to go to San Francisco. Or at least listen to the Vanessa Carlton song.
7. When I Was Older by Garret Freymann-Weyr. Aside from introducing me to one of my favorite authors, this book made me want to go to New York City, a lot. Since I am all about travelling, books that make me want to go somewhere get extra points.
   
8. Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli. I love Stargirl. She's a character so totally not afraid to be herself. Though myself isn't quite as odd as hers, I don't think, she's still one of my role models. There's a sequel to this book out now, but I haven't been able to bring myself to read it yet, afraid it might ruin the original.
9. So Far From Malabar by Joy De Weese Wehen. It's been ages since I read this book, so I don't remember all the details too well. It really really made me want to go to India, though. But looking back on it, I don't think it was actually very good, but I loved it at the time. Also it may have been kind of racist (I am not a racist).
   
10. Greater Than Angels by Carol Matas. This book started my love of history! I adored this book, and it made me want to read more about history--starting with World War II Fiction, then branching out to WWII non-fiction, and then finally just loving history in general the way I do now!
11. Red. As Jordyn said, this doesn't really need explanation.

 I said this to a couple of my friends in the car yesterday. They thought I was kidding or being overly dramatic. I was completely serious. *** Cheney is Voldemort.

Voldemort took over the Ministry of Magic but he did it secretly; he didn't declare himself Minister of Magic, he just controlled said Minister. He killed and tortured lots of people. He was evil. 

*** Cheney is not the President, but the real President is too stupid to think for himself. His brain has a name: *** Cheney. *** Cheney controls the government. He is the evil puppetmaster. He condones torture. He has killed tens of thousands of people, civillians, through the war in Iraq. And he's just as power-hungry as Voldemort ever was. The executive branch has made huge power grabs in recent years, making it by far the most powerful. And the most powerful person in the executive branch is *** Cheney.

*** Cheney is arguably the most powerful person in American history. This administration has taken more power than any other I can think of, a student of both AP US History and AP US Government and Politics. I mean, I know what I'm talking about. I read TIME, US News & World Report, and the New York Times. This administration is certainly one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, and *** Cheney is the driving force behind it all.

This, quite frankly, is terrifying. The man is evil to the bone. Evil and bloodthirsty and powerhungry. He makes me want to run away to Sweden. He is Voldemort. He is in charge of us all, and we do nothing. We are the "good Germans" in World War II!  Sitting here, doing nothing, while innocent people die because we have elected the real-life equivalent of Voldemort to rule us! Thank God for his health problems, that he's not running for president. I would honestly leave the country. I've been research cheap flights out. $322 to Kiev. 

America has a tradition of a peaceful transition of power. At the end of his eight years, *** Cheney will probably step down peacefully. But...I have that nagging fear. That nagging fear that he will try to take over the government. Is this ridiculous? Probably. But I wouldn't rule it out.

The CIA will probably show up at my house tomorrow and take me to a secret detention center in Afghanistan to use illegal torture techniques on me for writing this.