"¡Tiempo para Español!"

Wow, this school year has just rolled by... Pretty much in all my classes, we're done. Reviewing is all we have left-- that and projects. Some, I actually enjoy doing and they leave me thinking, "Why didn't we do more of this, this year?"

And others... just leave me thinking, "...why." For example: A 5-paragraph essay... for MATH. What? Why? No. That doesn't work... It shouldn't... But, yes, that and another page paper on two articles with statistics in them. No me gusta.

Speaking of Spanish, (ha, speaking!)I think I speak Spanish more in AP Chem then I do in my actual Spanish class... Is that sad?
It's not that I don't like my Spanish class, it's nice... nice and early in the morning! Hahaha! But, I have a friend, Adam, in my chem class that's in Spanish III and we just randomly write conversations in Spanish on the board. :D
It's so fun because I can just ask him and he knows! And sometimes he doesn't remember a word-- and I do! Wahoo! Like, conseguir, I remembered that one today.

And, I learned what lightning is in español! I wrote on the board, "¿¡DONDE ESTA EL RELAMPAGO!? ¡DIME! ¡DIME! ¡AYUDAME! ¡Yo no consigo el RELAMPAGO!" And then I drew a picture of a person being struck my lightning, it was all very entertaining. (this was all after we studied diligently for the AP chem exam, of course)
Oh! I also learned today that when you write Spanish words in all caps you don't write the accent marks! Weird! (And handy) ;D

Today was just filled with laughter, it was wonderful. And, I still feel very giggly! :) Good day, good day indeed.

Part of Life.

Oh my... So many things that I could write about...
Well, first off, I went to a funeral today. My first one.. (not counting one I went the one when I was very young.) It was my friend's grandma and, it was very sad...
The service was very sweet and this woman was such a great person: absolutely devoted to helping others, wonderful with kids, always smiling, and doing everything she could for God's glory. I was very inspired by what they said about her.
I... would like to have stuff like that be said at my funeral. I want to be someone people love and have been affected positively by.

Well... I was going to go onto some other thoughts that have been sitting at the front of my mind... But, now that I've re-thought about the funeral and stuff, everything else seems so pointless.

So, I'll just continue on this thought. We got into the long line of cars behind the herse, heading toward the cemetary. It was... very extrordinary. The way cars stopped completely on the side of the road... it filled me with the feeling of immense respect.
Of course, there were the people who were inching along, tapping on the side of the car, and just being plain impatient.
And, I was a tad aggravated about that.

My friends were dicussing it in the car, saying that no where is too important and that they couldn't just wait a minute, in respect for this loss. They wanted to put a sign out for them to read, something along the lines of, "It doesn't matter where you're going, this is where you end up." There were other suggestions, but I don't remember them.

This whole expierence just makes me think about how many more funerals am I going to have to go to in my lifetime? Especially as I get old.

During chapel, I watched sweet old ladies dab their eyes with kleenexes from the pain of separtation from their friend. And, I couldn't help but imagine myself, old and frail, attending my friends funerals. What will it be like? I hope my life will be filled with amazingly good things and death...will be the next step to a new life.

I know future funerals will be sad. But... it's a part of life, right? I know practically all my family will be going to heaven when they die, as well as myself... And that's a very wonderous thing.

"See you later."

Trivial Thoughts.

I'm so glad that it's getting warmer outside! :)
Unfortunately, it's too hot upstairs so, to keep cool, I have a fan in my window. And, I'm one of those weird people who want to be at least a little bit cold so, then I can have a blanket ontop of me. I feel so...unprotected without it... I'm like a little kid who hasn't realized that the covers offer no real protection against any danger.
Anyway, so, I can't stand when I'm too warm, so my fan is blowing cold air in.
But...the cold air is making my throat hurt! Gah! I can't win...


Hm. This saturday is my school's prom. I'm... kinda freaking out. I'm going with a friend, but still... I don't know. I'm nervous about my dress and about actually getting there... And... dancing.

I went to this Valentine's Dance a while ago with some of my friends and Spencer recently told me he thought it was really cool that I danced with other guys and enjoyed myself. That's... really nice to hear, because I was so nervous. And, it took a bit of sugar and another crazy friend to get me to loosen up.

I hope that'll happen at prom... It will. I'm just crazy and worry too much. It'll be fun. It will be fun. (that's me trying to convince myself, by the way)

There are so many other thoughts floating--more like zooming-- through my mind... But, there's nothing I feel like mentioning.

Oh, yeah, something that made me happy today: my English teacher, when I walked into our area in the library, said, "How are you today, my favorite blog person?!" Hahaha! I must've looked confused because for a second I had thought she had said "...my favorite blonde person." Hahaha! It tickled to me. :]

I Give into the Lies...

I hate feeling sad. And I hate it when it comes out of nowhere.

--Rambling Start--

And, it just mutiplies when my thoughts begin to wander and form sentences from tiny seeds of doubt that sprout.
Before long, those seeds have grown into what seems like an impassible jungle.

Why do I give into the lies?
Because they somewhat have a logical ancestry?

I see people--people I think are great-- just dog on people around them and always gripe about friends behind their backs, with no intention of actually saying something to help solve irritations.

Why do I not trust people very easily?
Because I see what happens behind-the-scenes. I have no excepts to that. I'm not perfect... no one is... It's just so difficult to put myself out there when I know people will mock me.
People who say I'm awesome. People who say that we're friends.
Gosh, I wish I could just ignore everything I see and be ignorant. I'd be so much more happy.

Geez. Why do I always go up and down in how I feel? Why do I feel like no one wants me? Cuz it's not true. People tell me it's not true. And friends and family who read this, this must hurt them to know that I think that. It's so stupid. Stupid.

I don't want to feel like that. Why is my mindset still stuck in the mud? My knowledge knows better.

I try to act like things don't bother me. But, they do. I have realized alot of things and I'm know what I need to do to better myself, to be me, right now. Why is it so difficult to be yourself? Anyway, lately, I've figured this stuff out, as all these just mentally-heavy things just keep falling on me.

I thought I cried them out a couple weeks back! But I just buried some things again! It's so aggravating! What is it going to take for me to just... magically "get it" to "live it." Which is impossible. These hurtful things... they are steering me. And I don't want that! I want happy things. Gosh, I want a guy to actually like me. I want best friends that... are naturally my friends... I want. I want. I want.

I sicken myself, really.

Oh. God. I know... I know you've sent people to encourage me. My English teacher told me, when I was saying I compare myself to others too much, "Whitney. I compare everyone else to YOU."
And, Mr. Steve, my Sunday school teacher, said something along the lines of: "Whitney. I'm so proud of you.... I know God has such a great plan for you... I look at my granddaughter and think that I want her to be just like you. You are a wonderful young woman and it has been an honor to know you." And I'm crying at that point and at my keyboard, now...
And Spencer, one of the best friends I've ever had was just telling what an amazing person I am. And that he's so glad we're friends.

It makes me so happy that they say that... I... wish I wouldn't just take their words so lightly. They weigh on my heart, for sure, but everything negative thats been going on has been pushing everything good off the front row.

I see God helping me through this. I see it so clearly.

...

What am I doing? ...I feel so incredibly human.

I give into the lies.

*EDIT*

--30 minutes later--

Deep breaths. Blabababa! Ok. I'm better. Thank you, Spencer, for spoon-feeding me my own advice... Hahaha
I was minorly melting down and simply giving into the lies. When they're just that. Lies.
Sorry, guys. I'll leave this up, just to show you what goes through my mind when I'm left to apply pessimisic theories to my situations.
But mostly I'm leaving this up for myself. To see that it's not true. Just a passing thought, with no truth.
The wind will quickly blow away all false ideas that have no roots. Thank you, God.

Where My Feet Take Me.

Its an amazing feeling, the feeling of just wanting to walk. To walk anywhere with no plan.... just to see where my feet take me.

But I'm boxed in. I can't even, for no reason... say, walk to the store, for example. It's too far from my house for my parent's comfort. Hahaha.
And I just can't walk down the road. It would look like I'm running away, which I don't have any intentions to.
I can't walk through fields because, they're fenced in.
I want to, though.
...Leave everything behind and just walk.
It would be an adventure.

But I can't. I have responsiblity and there are too many dangers.
Maybe one day, I'll go backpacking through Europe with friends. (I'd make sure we'd have some guys, they'd protect us, right?) :D That would be pretty amazing.

Hm. I feel like I can't convey how it strong it feels to just start walking, like I can't describe it.

Well, I was thinking about this as I was walking through some nieghborhoods and I was heading toward the elementary school close-by because the path to get there is in this beautiful, cool forest.

A story began to form in my head. Of, stumbling apon a meeting of bad guys and I'm suddenly pursued because I saw them. I was thinking of my excuse to keep them from killing me by saying, "It's too cliche!" And the dumb henchman would be confused and I'd explain that killing someone to shut them up is used too much, and that my body would be found and the police would be more fired up to find out what happened to me. The leader, who would be handsome by the way (;D), is impressed. He decides he could use me...

Sidenote: Is it strange that I've always been the kind of girl that wants the bad guy to like me? Like, not like in real life, but in fairy-tales and super-hero comics/movies. The bad guy wants me, takes me, but the good guy saves me. It's the fantasy of my life. Hahaha! ;)

--But, the story forming in my head was cut short by being pulled back into stupid reality where people do short-sighted things. I came across these 3 middle-schoolers sitting on the side of the path with cigarettes. And their expressions, oh my gosh. They stared at me like I was some sort of idiot. Me. Wow. They must think they're pretty hot stuff. It's really sad, actually. I... just can feel how much they don't care about anything. I'm kinda disapointed.
Life is so simple and yet so complex. I wish people didn't just do things because they think it's cool. Or... to just rebel against their parents, or to just feel better about themselves. You only have one life. Come on. One.
I mean, that's... insane. One.

I guess I'm glad that I realize and understand that. It makes me want to take risks. And at the same time, it makes me cautious and the want to do things right. But, I still don't entirely "live" it. If you've read some of my posts before, you'll know I struggle with putting myself out there and talking to people.
Which is silly. Cuz I do understand that I have one life.

I don't want to waste it... and, I want to walk...

Mental and Physical Afflictions

Hmm... I guess today has been a "good" day--only because I've been in so much pain that I haven't been able to think. Hmm... I wonder if I could put a graph in here... Here, let me draw something, real quick...
...
(Couple hours later...)
Gosh, I'm such a perfectionist. Ridiculous...

(And look-! It's an adorable mini Whitney!)

--This is me, usually...my brain in overload, analyzing everything and everyone around me. I guess the simplest term for the "mental affliction" would be: worry.

And, I'm not really that much of a worry-wart. (though it does run in the family... ;])I just think too much.

(And our clothes even match!) :3

--Back to my original point: I noticed that I was in so much pain today, I just didn't care about what others were doing.

I get very apathetic when I'm feeling bad enough to actually show it. (Usually, if its little, I just brush it off.)

So, through my graphs that I so neatly drew, I have made some interesting discoveries.

As physical affliction's level (PAL) rises, mental affliction's level (MAL) decreases.

But, I don't think they're inversely related though. That would make the opposite true too: MAL increases, then PAL increases.

That's not true because, if I was trying to pull someone up, who was dangled off the side of a cliff, I would be in a great amount of pain. My arms would be burning, struggling to not only hold the person's weight but also work against gravity at the same time. And, the whole situation would make my mind go INSANE. Like, extreme worry!

I don't think increasing worry will make physical pain go away. If anything, MAL increasing increases PAL.

Now I'm thinking of all sort of equations that you could convert MAL to PAL and how they affect each other.......Oh my gosh... I just realized what just happened: I went into Chemistry mode. Holy crap. AP Chem has taken over my brain! Someone save me! AHHHHHH! STOICHIOMETRY! BLAAAAHH!!

...hrm. Annnnyway... I guess I was pretty vague about the "being in pain" Don't worry. It's not too serious.
It's my tooth; it was so unbearable today! It's been bothering me since January. But, today was different. I woke up with it hurting, expected the pain to subside... But, no. It got worse as the day went by, slowly making my entire mouth ache, then my nose, then it gave me this HUGE headache.
My whole face just hurt. (I was relcutant to tell people that with that particular phrasing because, I knew someone would say, "Yeah! And it's killing me!" Ha. Ha.)

I did go to the dentist after school because, really, just... horrible aching. And, it turns out that the nerve in my tooth is dying. So, I have to get a root canal. Won't that be fun?

Ooh, I've written so much already and I didn't get to talk (write?) about how happy my day became after English class...

Darn you, Chemistry mode! Well, I'll talk (write?) about that tomorrow. :)

"Something Bad's Gonna Happen!"

Today has been an “up-and-down” kind of day.
It's like I'm trying to trick myself into being happy but, at the same time, I just want something to happen to make my day better.

"Oooh, don't put that much dependence on the universe, Whitney." I tell myself, "It's not going to just magically make you happy. Chance occurrences are just that. Chance."

Is it funny that in my head, I pictured  my "inner self" having a deeper voice? Like, that's what makes it wise. Hahaha!(And, is it funny that I say "pictured" when you can't picture voices? ;] Ooh, I'm crazy.)

And, I don't depend on something just happening, though I would appreciate it. And, if it did happen, it would be because I reeeally needed it.
Like, this one day where something bad happened and I had this...meltdown...
But, earlier that day, I had been sitting alone, kinda sad that I was alone, and this girl came and sat by me and asked, "Why are you alone?" I was shocked. No one's ever, ever done that to me before!
I didn't know how to answer. Why was I alone?
I shrugged, dumbfounded, and said, "I... don't know..."
She smiled and talked with me, asking me questions about my day and about what kind of music I listen to, stuff like that.
When my ride got there and I left, I was just thinking about how strange it was.
And even more strangely, I felt... like something bad was going to happen. (Haha, my family makes fun of me for saying that all the time during movies, so, I know you guys are chuckling right now!) And I was right, something bad did happen shortly after, but, I had a little bit of cushioning to fall on.

It's kind of like when you tell someone they look exceptionally nice today... then, you mention that you just ran over their cat.
Well, except that's kinda like you're trying to make yourself look less...I guess, horrible?
But, this felt like God was doing it for my benefit. He knew...
...I guess he always knows.

(Gosh, I hope no one's going to be paranoid about random good things happening to them, now: "Something bad's gonna happen!" Hahaha! Sorry!)

Magically Petrifying and Wonderful.

This is a "creative non-fiction" piece for my Creative Writing class. It captures those moments of my life pretty well. :)

We used to live in the middle of the woods, down a winding driveway only big enough for one car to go down. In the daytime, it was a beautiful and calm place to live. Our house was best described as a log cabin, though it was far from it.

It was great, but not always great in a good sense. When the sun set, darkness spread its wings, completely covering the forest and us. To a nine-year-old girl, with an over-active imagination, the woods, at night, was ten times more scary then it ought to be.
I remember looking out onto the barely-visible landscape and filling in the areas that I couldn’t make out with murders and monsters waiting for an opportunity to kidnap or kill me.
It was impossible to escape, especially in the summer when the windows were open to keep the house relatively cool.

To top it all off, my upstairs bedroom had three giant windows. The middle one was the biggest, reaching from the ceiling and almost to the floor. They terrified me--to this day, I still have nightmares about windows.
My parents put huge black curtains up, to keep me from getting them up in the middle of the night but… I could still imagine what possibly was behind those curtains…

The most recurring thought of what was outside my window, was an image of a man. If I happened to be brave enough to peek around the curtains, I knew his face would be there. His wildly murderous eyes would burn into mine and he would grin or maybe he would frown--he would be there, though. I was convinced.

My mother, when I expressed my fear one night, said in an exasperated tone, “Whitney. Your room is on the 2^nd floor.” I knew this, of course, but to justify my fear I explained that he could have gotten a ladder. She simply laughed and kissed me goodnight.
The lights went out and I nervously stared at the curtains, then slowly, with little movement as possible, I pulled my blankets up and over my head--because, as all children know, the covers protect you from everything.

As I mentioned before, I never got over this irrational fear of what could be outside windows at night…they can see you… you can‘t see them...I knew, in my head, that there was no way a man would get a ladder and stay in front of a window every single night, just to scare a little girl. But the fear lingered.

Anyway, outside wasn’t the only frightening experiences I’ve had at that house. It was the inside, too…
My room was messy; it was filled Barbie dolls, a big dollhouse my grandfather had made for my mother when she was little, clothes, markers, paper, and other generic childhood toys.
The dark transformed my toys into blobs of unknown objects. The bathroom light shone into my room and cast strange shadows where anything could be hiding… just waiting for my little toes to hit the floor…

Naturally, I was terrified of walking around at night but, usually I was brave enough to scurry as fast as I could to the bathroom, where the light was, to extinguish all the shadow creatures and be safe …for that moment.

There was this one time, in my room, that I’m sure it wasn’t just my imagination playing tricks on me. But, I haven’t the faintest clue as to what actually happened.
One night, I remember turning off my light and making my way back to the safety of my bed, when, suddenly, this horribly loud CRASH of a heavy object and the sound of shattering plastic made me freeze mid-step.
The scattering pieces finally settled and I just stood there, shocked. It was my CD player, I knew. The sound had come from the right, where my CD player had been resting on the top of my dollhouse. It must’ve fell off!
Finally, the shock began to wear off and the fact that my mom would be mad, since my CD player just broke into a million pieces, began to sink in. For some reason, I didn’t turn on the lights and simply went over to the “scene-of-the-crime” to check it out. I searched for the broken pieces but I couldn’t find them. Briefly, I felt around with my hand but there was nothing there.

I quickly went to fetch my mother, being the good kid that I was. We went back upstairs together and she flipped on the light forcefully, and almost angrily because of the late hour.
I ran over and began to search the floor for my mangled up CD player--but… nothing was there.
“It fell right here… I heard it.” I explained, confused.
“Whitney. What are you talking about? It’s right here.” she said, pointing at my CD player sitting on the dollhouse still.
It couldn’t be! The crash… was so loud and I could hear the plastic breaking. My mother brushed it off as me just being strange and went to bed. I searched my room again and then again in the morning. But there was nothing broken in the entire room.

And now that I’m thinking about this incident again, I believe that my room was in fact, carpeted… What in the world was that crashing sound?

At night, the house and the woods were a little too dark for my liking, but it was a perfect place for my imagination to flourish, at night and during the day. Despite all the things there that frightened me, it has always been my favorite house, both magically petrifying and wonderful at the same time.

My Animations.

On my DSi, I absolutely love using the app, Flipnote. I enjoy drawing little animations so much! Though, I do get some skeptical looks from classmates when I'm playing on my DS during school... Psh! I get good grades.
I thought I'd share what I have "published" so far to the Flipnote Hatena website. So, check it out, it's just another part of who Whitney is.

I recommend looking at the first one, it's my most popular, so far. And, the one on the bottom row in the middle, it's the second. I love them all, perosnally. The last one on the first row is a Harry Potter joke. :)

**EDIT** Ohh.. well, it looks like whenever I add/upload new flipnotes, they change this thing! Thats pretty cool! So, ignore all the "try the first one" or whatever, they're all jumbled, so just check them all out! ;D

Who Knows You?

Going through life, it feels weird to reflect on the idea of "life"--consciousness, knowing. Like, how your parents have already gone through their childhoods, their teenage years, and have already become adults. (whether or not they act like it ;]) ...All before you even existed!

Or, how everyone has their own life, completely different and independent from yours and, you only catch a tiny glimpse--the tiniest fraction--of their lives, even if you’re friends!

Walking down the street, it’s amazing to think that that random person who just passed you has an entire past trailing behind him that got him to this moment of passing by you… and, he has a life ahead of him yet to be lived, trivial worries going through his mind, and hopes and dreams… all packed behind his stoic expression. It’s all so amazing!
You’ll never know what story his life held.
And he’ll never know yours.

Will anyone be able to see your story--the full completeness of it? I don’t think so. Even if you share parts of your life with someone, or you get married… You can’t convey your whole story.
Only you know your full story. You and God that is.
That’s a comforting and yet unnerving thought if you actually let it sink in.
That brings up another point, which is very weird: if we’re the only person on the Earth that knows our entire story, do we know ourselves better then anyone else? It never seems that way.
It’s like we have too much information on ourselves. It’s an overload. We either see all the mistakes we’ve made and sell ourselves short. Or we see all these great things we’ve done before and think we’re amazing.

Then that would mean that other people know us best. But that’s not true either. People catch others in moments of weakness, when we’ve made a mistake that we usually wouldn’t and people judge each other based on little things they’ve noticed, holding onto those "first impressions" forevermore.

But that’s not who I am. If who I was, was based on what people randomly saw of me, they’d think I never talked, and never wanted to talk. I probably look lost or sad, because I’m thinking and trying not to get trampled in the halls at the same time.

So… whoever knows you best has to know your entire story but at the same time have an outside view of your life………… Hmmmmmm… ;)

Continuing to Ponder.

I was trying to revise my thoughts earlier today at Cracker Barrel and I rephrased some words, using my phone, and came up with this:

“My life’s motif had been loneliness, I’ve noticed. Every impactful moment in my entire life has been about me struggling to belong to a community: a group of friends, or my church youth group. I hate being alone... Yet, I find comfort in that loneliness.”

And, I can't seem to get it out of my head, I’ve just been constantly thinking about this idea, and it’s really been hitting me that it’s so... true. (that sentence might've been very repetitive, but its the true emphasis of my thinking!) The notion has just brushed by me. Every time I’ve had a big moment and I’ve seen God working through me... I thought it was just something to make me stronger: “I can do this by myself now.”

When really, God has been trying to show me that I need people.
I can’t go through life closing myself off. Keeping my feelings locked in a vault buried in the ground! Family heals. Friends heal.

I’m not sure what I was afraid of. Weakness, maybe? I do hate admitting that I’m weak. I like to be strong. To be someone that others look up to and try to get through things.
When, let’s face it, I’m pretty much a doll sewn together to look perfect on the outside, while my insides are just fluff and no structure. Eventually, my seems would come undone and everything would see what a horrible wreck I am, if they hadn’t already guessed.

I guess God planned on that. Nobody’s perfect.
Except Jesus. And gosh, I find great comfort in the fact that Jesus knows and understands how I feel--probably to a much higher degree. But, the sadness, the rejection, and the loneliness most of all. He went through it all. To the extreme. Before, I was very... Sad, almost guilty, that he had to die on the cross for us: “We [humans] are all so stupid! Gah! Why do we continue to make mistakes!?”
But now, I have such an amazement. And such gratitude. He... Died for me. He went through all that pain, just so we wouldn’t have to pay the price for what we do. Gosh. That. Is. Love.

The Beginning of Starting Again.

This was written yesterday, Saturday, April 16, 2011.

In the transition from sophomore year to junior year, I was faced with some pretty big changes. The catalyst of all these changes was that my close group of friends had just graduated--I was going to be alone my junior year. More like, I would be if I didn’t find some new friends, a new group.
Which I wasn’t looking forward to. I wouldn’t say I’m anti-social, just majorly self-conscious and confidence-lacking... So that was definitely going to be difficult...
It was going to be a clean-slate, though.
A new start.
Could I change? Could I allow myself to show others who I really am?
I wanted to.
And, it seems kind of terrible, but because of this thought of a “clean-slate”, I lost contact with some of my old friends, dropping off their radars...drifting apart... (I do love you guys dearly.)
But, I...needed this. I gained some new friends over the summer and my mindset did a complete 180...

Before, I was yearning to go to college, live by myself, work, and get married... All things I thought would make me...me. I felt like... I was waiting to become myself.

And, I feel, now, that I am myself.

I don't have to "grow up" to finally be somebody... That may seem like such an...obvious statement, and I thought that too, before. But, now that I've tasted what it feels like to just be me... I realize that I wasn't "living" that statement.

I liked myself more then I ever have before. I gained confidence over the summer and was goofy, (because I am goofy!) and I... felt great. I enjoyed being me!
Unfortunately, this school year has been going on for around 8 months and slowly my newly-found confidence has been being chiseled away...and old self-hating habits have worked their way back out of the ground... I have dwindled severely. I’m, again, afraid to talk to people--to be myself...
But, I haven’t given up. I continue to try and be myself. And I know that... I am myself... And I shouldn’t hold back because of what others may think.
Like so many things, that is... much easier said, then done.