Juillet

Every summer I make a playlist. It's a ritualistic marking of the season for me. Last summer's playlist was Tom Milsom and Summer Camp and We Were Evergreen. Listening to the songs now fills me up with this weird nostalgia for missing people that were too far away and unrequited feelings and Izzes. Those aren't really great things to be nostalgic about, but I hear my old feelings whenever I listen to that playlist.

This summer, I made another playlist. It's all New Order and Gwen Stefani and The Strokes and Bon Iver. I listen to these songs now and hear possibilities of memories. I hear July, a month that isn't fully realized until it's over, for me. A month of staying up too late watching movies and missing people too much and reciting pretty poetry to no one in particular at the pool. It's been a really strange time for me. I guess you could say it's been a period of growth(???) but it mainly feels like the sort of putzing around that people do when they've graduated from college and don't know what to do with themselves just yet. I've started saying "yo" in public so I mean if that isn't a clear enough image for you. My summer playlist has been the background music to all of it and out of all of it, the lyric that's resonated me with me the most is Every man is happy until happiness is suddenly a goal. Like goddamn. 

And I guess that's it. The reason I've probably struggled each year with the month of July is because I'm expecting that letter in the mail that never comes, instead of just enjoying my time.

In any case, August is always lovely.

This Book Changed My Life

Exactly a year and three days ago, I started this blog with the intention of documenting my experiences with The Book: This Book Will Change Your Life. Things didn't exactly pan out as I'd anticipated; I got a bit sidetracked and eventually stopped completing the tasks and subsequently stopped cataloging it. Apparently my life changed just fine without the help of The Book.

I guess The Book has become something more abstract for me, not so much a list of things to do, but a gentle reminder to continue to do things that I wouldn't normally consider.  (Not to mention The Book had like a lot of things I couldn't complete like try porn star sex positions um not happening sorry.) I started out with The Book as a very different person; someone a lot more cautious of crowds and eager to stay home when mention of a party was made. Now I'm less cautious of crowds and I stick around the food tables at parties. In all seriousness, my life has changed in many ways within the past revolution around the sun, and while I'm still working towards the person I want to be, I'm happy with where my life is right now.

A short aside to Mr Hancock, the person that gave me The Book: Thank you. My first summer in New Jersey was a lonely one, and The Book consumed a lot of my boredom during the long stretch before school. Still now, in situations where I'm feeling nervous, I find myself thinking "Ah, what the hell." Also, still haven't met Snooki, but maybe I'll get lucky soon.

I ate so many brownies I think I might puke.

Okay, so it's the end of the school year (pretty much), which entails a lot of unwanted nostalgia for things that happened about two months ago, summer goals, and complete negligence of anything it takes to reach those goals. Basically, it's the time of year when I tell myself I'll get out of bed at seven every morning to run and end up just waking up at ten and eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch straight from the box as I watch last night's episode of Parks and Rec in my pajamas.

It's been a good year for me, and not in just that I've met great people and genuinely enjoyed the past twelve months of my existence, but I feel sort of old-twenties-songy? And it's almost this sick-to-my-stomach sweetness, like the kind you feel after you've eaten a shitload of baked goods. I don't really know how to deal with that feeling because I'm sad that it's ending. It's this weird fear that I'm not going to feel the same sort of happiness or smile the same way or have the same laugh lines or something. I like where I am right now and I'm worried that the next year will only disappoint.

It's like when you go to your favorite restaurant and every time you order the same dish because YOU KNOW this is the only dish for you. Nothing else will live up to this. But eventually your friend or whoever else you eat with convinces you to try something new and so you try that bruschetta or whatever that you've been eyeing, but not without hesitation, because your expectations are extraordinarily high. And it's the best thing you've ever had. And you wonder why you wasted the past three years only eating that panini thing when you could've been trying all these other wonderful things.

I'm not talking about food. But I clearly need more metaphors to describe my life than just food.

What I'm saying is I'm in this weird state where I want things to slow down. I want to be the person I am right now for a while. I want to stay here for a while and I want to hear my life from this month in a year from now when I listen to old songs. But I also know I'll be okay if I try that bruschetta. Mainly I want the literal sick-to-my-stomach feeling to go away because I actually ate about three brownies today and I'm paying for it now.

Note(s) for Future Reference

Use these notes for future reference. They will help you avoid things you regret/keep you up at night/make you shake your head and laugh in that all-knowing way.

1: Laughter is not an appropriate way to respond to compliments.

2: When you see that guy in a mask on Halloween and he says hello, run after him.

3: Take good care of your teeth. You’ll be happy you did later in life.

4: Do not keep crushing on the guy that barely talks to you. Just stop.

5: Start running and never stop.

6: Do more things that you temporarily regret. You’ll be happy you did them later.

7: Take Spanish. Seriously, what were you thinking with French?

8: Do not stay up at night obsessing over the fact that you pronounced polyamorous incorrectly. Really. You're the only one that noticed.

9: Never stop smiling at people. You never know when they’re getting a smile they didn’t think they needed.

10: Get really good at winking.

11: Document as much of your life as you can. It’s so nice to look back on things later.

12: Hindsight won’t always clear things up. Some things won’t ever make sense. It’s okay.

13: Do not burn your angsty art/writing/everything. There’s great importance in that angsty stuff that isn’t burdened by self-consciousness and semi-colons.

Lastly: Ignore all of this advice. Things turn out alright in the end. And who am I kidding, they make for good stories.

The Good Times Are Killing Me

Thoughts on dates 'n shit (not the fruity kind nor the romantic)
March 29: The first time I watched Fight Club and experienced the post-Fight Club phenomenon

May 12: The day we left Minot

May 17: The day we got to New Jersey

June 21: Moonrise Kingdom in Voorhees

July 7: The day I saw Coldplay

September 7: The  first day of seventh grade/the first day of eighth grade

October 13: First time in Manhattan

November 30: My second time to successfully finish Nanowrimo

December 13: The day I spent at the movies

January 1: The day I realized how short a year is

January 15: The day I was twenty feet away from my hero

January 17: The day I started writing a movie script with this guy

February 1: The day I remembered how much I hate the word February

March 18: The day I remembered how good running feels

April 1: The day I redefined home

Today:

3.18.13

Some days you just hear a really good song and it rocks your world.

Some days your nine year-old brother asks you what he should give his girlfriend, and you're like whaaaa?

Some days you have to spill out grand soliloquies detailing your recent epiphanies when no one is around and inadvertently burn your sandwich.

Some days are Mondays. And somehow, they kind of don't suck.

I cried in French today.

And not even because French "sounds like people trying to gargle marbles".

Today in my French class (which seemed like a romantic idea to take at the beginning of the year), someone made a remark that was worthy of a Texas bumper sticker. "I think everyone in America should be fluent in English." Mme La Prof* stopped her lesson on how to say our nationalities and ethnicities en français and gave a much needed lecture on such ignorant statements. It went something like this:
"I don't care what political party you align with, you could be the most conservative person in the world, or even on the opposite end of the spectrum, but we all need some empathy. When you see someone standing at McDonald's, struggling to get their order straight, with a heavy accent and a fresh citizenship, think twice before you start judging. You guys are complaining to me about how French people and Canadians discriminate against you when you travel to their homelands, yeah? Because you're not fluent in their tongue, are you? Things aren't so easy when you don't have the upper hand."
The class was silent, and the girl who made the remark was suddenly sheepish.
"Look, there are some countries where women are completely subjugated. You might not understand that because we live in a pretty progressive country, but there are countries where women don't get the opportunity to come to school like all of you." This struck a chord with me, as a huge enthusiast for women's rights, and moreover just fundamental human rights. "So they get the chance to come to this country, to work hard, not for themselves. They never had that primary or secondary education, no, they're here for their daughters. So that their daughters can go to high school, get a degree, find a career they're passionate about, and get married, if that's what they choose, because they want to. Not because they have to."
I cried in French today, and it wasn't even because of how much I hate conjugating verbs.

My mother's parents immigrated to America from Mexico. Neither of my grandparents had the opportunity to get a secondary education, as they were forced to work as child laborers. They came to the US just before my mother was born. I can never express how grateful I'll be to them for taking such a huge step for the sake of their daughter, and futhermore, their grandchildren. I guess that short little lecture woke me up a bit. I've always considered myself to be a feminist, but that small moment where we were all just listening to my teacher was profound for me. It solidified everything I believe in, and as Sylvia Plath might say, it touched a human string in the cat's cradle of my heart. It made me realize how lucky I am to have the things I have. I've never considered marriage, as it's not really a priority to me. I've never wanted kids, simply because I feel that sort of life would never equate to happiness for me. I've always thought of myself as a freethinker, but today I realized just what that meant. I have the opportunity to do the things I want-work hard in school, study the things I'm passionate about, become what I wish to be, and seek happiness (whatever that turns out to be). I have that opportunity and I'm not letting go of it. I just wish that everyone had that same chance to pursue their happiness.

And let the record show that by crying, I mean a few tears escaped. It was merely a physical reaction to an emotional stimulus.
Illustration credits to Nick Lu
*my teacher

Get Louder

A while ago, I brought home this really awful book, Are The Kids All Right?; something I found in the free section of my library. It's this patronizing, indignant novel cataloging the "satanical", "brainwashing" effects of kids being exposed to hard rock. It was written in the 1970s. I have now realized that it's a bad idea to get books from the free section...UNLESS you're in the mood to turn something disgustingly bad into something kind of, sort of awesome.

Said book in all its glory

I decided to start ripping out pages and turning them into banners, paper cranes, etc.

I'm thinking I'll do some sort of stop motion with all these cranes soon.

As I was skimming through the novel, I stumbled on this really great quote. I read it completely out of context so it was probably just something a guitarist said to a drummer, but I took it to mean something kind of profound.

"Our eternal goal in life is to get louder." How great is that? Maybe I should give the ranty book a second chance? I think I'll just continue belting out Arcade Fire whilst ripping out pages.

Friday Nights with Bill and Ray

This is the sort of thing that ensues when I get bored in English.

(In a bar somewhere in Chicago, two men in their late twenties lament about their mundane problems. All over a few beers.)

Bill: She was the type of person that got tattoos that said "peace" or something in Chinese. 

Ray: You're kidding me. (has a tattoo of marijuana on his neck)

Bill: Not even. And you know what's really rich? 

Ray: Hmm?

Bill: She said she was a Sagittarius within ten seconds of introducing herself.

Ray: HAHAHA!

Bill: That just about made me get up and leave and make her pay for her damn tempeh, but, you know...

Ray: I know. But you're a nice guy.

Bill: Something like that. 

Ray: (shakes his head in frustration) Working at the burger joint is so tiring, man. It's like every day there's gotta be somebody that 's gotta take it out on me because they caught their boyfriend cheating or they got laid off or they dry cleaner screwed up their favorite suit. It's like, all I wanna know is if you want fries or onion rings, you know what I'm sayin'?

Bill: (nods sympathetically and takes a drink) I feel ya. The office is a drag too.

Ray: I get home, man, and it's a different side of me. At work I'm all smiles and "would you like ketchup with that?", but I walk in that front door and I gotta let it out. Try being quiet for once, calms you down. I've gotta relax sometimes, you know? 

An Evening of Awesome

Looking For Alaska was the first book that I read. I mean really read. Everything before that had just been stories and strings of words, but Looking For Alaska was truly deserving of the word beautiful. Since I first read that book, John Green has become something of a hero to me. During the summer of 2011, I discovered nerdfighteria and the phrase that has been a constant refrain of mine,"Don't Forget To Be Awesome". On the surface, this was just a weird online community that wrote songs about homo-erotic watercolors of Sherlock Holmes and had a name suggesting that it was a street gang, but it's become so much more than that to me. 

I guess I can't accurately express my feelings about John and Hank Green and the community they've created without sounding ridiculously sappy, which is why I've avoided writing anything about the Evening of Awesome. John and Hank created an expansive community for people to be unabashedly enthusiastic about the things they love. Through endeavors like the Project For Awesome, they've helped decrease world-suck and encouraged people to spread positivity. But the thing I love most about nerdfighteria isn't the shared love for Doctor Who or John's books, not the nerdiness or even the inside jokes shared with thousands. No, the thing I love best about nerdfighteria is that it's a community based on an idea, not characteristics. I know so many people who don't watch Sherlock or make references to Star Trek or even play ukuleles, and they're still nerdfighters. There are no "requirements", no liking or disliking things on principle-only the need to spread a little awesome. 

The Evening of Awesome was incredible, needless to say. I was literally twenty feet away from John and Hank. The Mountain Goats performed and scenes from The Fault In Our Stars were performed, the wonderful Kimya Dawson sang and NEIL GAIMAN WAS THERE. I was twenty feet away from Neil Gaiman, guys. And it's hard to think of anything more precious than hearing Neil Gaiman say "I would literally suck donkey balls." John talked about whether the meaning of life is something constructed or inherent, something I've talked a lot about, and Hank performed his endearingly quirky songs. 

The best was the end, though. The Mountain Goats came out and performed "This Year", a song that I've been listening to on repeat since, and everyone backstage came out. I don't know why, but seeing John and Hank with their friends and family, singing along and dancing made me smile uncontrollably. There was a warmness and enthusiasm in Carnegie Hall that night that I won't forget. 

We create our own meaning.

I was writing an essay about hope for a class of mine and realized that there was a lot I needed to say about the subject. It turned into this. Enjoy.

For me, hope can be found almost everywhere. I found hope in the books my parents gave me at the age of four when I found that there is so much in the world begging to be discovered. I found hope in the stories of stars and science, dinosaurs and adventures-stories that filled my head and heart with a burning sense of yearning. I find hope in the knowledge that I am an inconsequential, unimportant, insignificant collection of atoms thrown into a life that was created by luck. This may be confusing to some, but I find comfort in the feeling of being small. Because though, as a whole, the universe does not care about me, the people here do. I find hope in knowing that energy never leaves the universe, that when something dies it is born into something new. On days when gravity seems to be working overtime, I remind myself that my atoms came from the stars I admire so fervently from my bedroom window at night. It is a comfort to me that nothing here was created with a purpose, part of some intricate plan designed by a deity in the sky. We create that meaning. When the universe goes on without us, turning its back on us callously, we can begin to care for each other. We can see that our lives are just a series of happy accidents, and to me, that makes them even more beautiful than predestined stories. 

They say that all human emotions can be broken down into one of two ultimate emotions: fear or love. Every other emotion merely stems from one of the two. And I know which one hope is for me. 

Illustration by Yoshinori Kobayashi
Special thanks to Abhishek Shivkumar, who inspired this discussion of the insignificance of humanity in relation to the universe. 

To Create is To Destroy

I've recently discovered the greatness that is blackout poetry and I'm kind of in love with it. The whole idea of destruction and subtraction becoming a form of creating is very appealing, and in some ways reminds me of Keri Smith's books. It's been a lazy Saturday, and what do you do when boredom is threatening? Make things, obviously. Most of these poems were created from passages from a horrible book called Are the Kids All Right?, a novel from the 80s about how rock and roll is "evil". It felt good to destroy that batshit crazy propaganda.

A lot of these turned out much darker than I anticipated and the one about divorce has a certain dark humor to it. What's up with that? Maybe I should lay off the Woody Allen movies for a while.

A Lexical Gap

You know that feeling you get when you're looking for a word and it doesn't exist? And words seem like they will never do their subjects justice? There's a word for that-a lacuna, or lexical gap.

I've been reading a lot of memoirs and biographies lately. I'm not sure if this is one step toward the boring, domestic tastes of adults, but I have been getting a lot of insights from these books. I'm currently reading Life Itself by Roger Ebert, which is really amazing.

It's really interesting to me to read about how these well-known people came to be. And I also like to prepare my own answers to my own future interviews. There's no such thing as too much confidence, people.

I love sifting through quotes. I feel like in some way we're all quoting each other and the idea of being made of the stuff of greats (assuming that energy is constantly passing through different states) gets me through those days when it seems like all the consonants and vowels are inadequate. And I guess I really want to leave my own quotes behind as well. One of my favorite people on the planet, John Green, once said,"Sometimes our favourite quotations say more about us than the stories or people we're quoting." I feel like I have way too many quotes to contain on paper. But here are a few that I've recently found that I love. A lot. Also, this video is beautiful and makes me fall in love with writing all over again.

--J.D. Salinger, one of my favorite writers

And lastly my favorite quote, from Alexander Supertramp, whose story has affected me so much

Let It Snow, December!

So it's finally December! Not only does that mean that I'm done with Nanowrimo (which I successfully finished), but it's also now the socially acceptable time of year to be singing Christmas songs.

Since we are currently living on a base with really small housing, my family had to be relatively conservative about the size of our Christmas tree. It was sort of like that one Charlie Brown movie about Christmas where the gang has to get a skimpy little tree. So it goes.

I'm really jazzed about Christmas this year, mainly because we'll be going to New York. I'll be able to live out all those cheesy romantic comedies. Which brings me to the topic of Christmas. Over the course of this past year, I've come to the conclusion that my religious views are secular. That still means I can watch Charlie Brown and decorate the pine tree, right? In my opinion, Christmas is becoming a largely secular holiday. It's becoming less about "the birth of Jesus" and more about just spending time with family and the cycle between giving and receiving. And who doesn't love that?

So whether you celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Chrismakwanzika, enjoy your December. (As well as this perfect picture of James Franco.)

Gratitude and Thanks

My birthday was the day before Thanksgiving. Double alibi for overt sappiness.
November 21st was a pretty grand day, including birthday French toast, cupcakes, and cookies, eating out and watching movies. But moreover I felt the need to give some sort of Oscars-acceptance speech, thanking every person that's ever been in my life. Yes, even the annoying perverts on my bus that are literally the definition of world-suck, because they're the fuel for my short stories and my need to spread awesomeness in the world.
I woke up this morning on the couch after I'd watched a decent amount of John Hughes movies and my dad asked me how old I was. "84," I replied. "I just happen to look really good for my age. Old soul, Dad."
So now I'm listening to the hilarious commentary and advice of Ferris Bueller and trying to make a list of all that I'm thankful for, because at some age you just have to start getting really sentimental about things and people. I can't avoid it anymore. So...
A list of things I'm thankful for: 

-my family and friends, because they can appreciate my unique madness
-movies (Particularly of the comedic and Wes Anderson variety) & movie theaters
-excellent fictional characters
-words
-microwave popcorn
-New York City
-non-condescending adults/teachers
-Coke
-pizza
-music
-coffee
-J.K. Rowling, J.D. Salinger, and John Green for instilling a need to write and be madly in love with the world
And lastly the internet, because I can put my thoughts and endeavors out into the world without making eye contact. Also because I can stay in contact with people that are thousands of miles away.

Okay, I have to go eat lunch before I choke on all the love. Happy Thanksgiving, guys.

Thank you and Don't Forget To Be Awesome.

My Life is a Sitcom, Okay?

I can't remember a time in my childhood where my parents and I weren't watching sitcoms together. My early childhood spanned from the 90s to the early years of the new millenium, so we ended up watching a lot of Friends and Seinfeld at night. I think this early exposure to really excellent TV shows inspired a deep love for film in general.

I can't tell you how close the TV show Friends is to my heart. I know, that sounds really dramatic, but you have no idea how many nights I've spent eating ice creaming and yearning for those years when I'd live in an apartment in NYC with a bunch of quirky people. What's really special about Friends is that it doesn't  in any way romanticize or gloss over what life is like. That's what I love about all sitcoms-they're painting reality in a really sweet and humorous way. Now, I am a complete Chandler. I'm basically convinced that Chandler and I are the same person,"hopeless, awkward, and desperate for love". He's charming, witty, lovable, and goofy. It's a Chandler thing. Somehow my parents still think I'm a Ross.

Another TV show that I really love is The Office. Every character on there is hilarious and I would stand to work in an office if I were able to experience all the farces that these characters do. The parkour scene will always be a favorite of mine as well as the sweet relationship between Jim and Pam throughout the seasons. There are still days when I turn my face to the imaginary camera in my classes when someone says something unbearably stupid, Office-style.

There are always new comedic TV shows that I'm falling in love with: Arrested Development, Parks and Recreation, Portlandia, The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, The Mindy Project, amongst others. 

It's funny how many friendships of mine have started over a mutual love for TV shows, which I think is perfect. Great friendships and relations in general start from being able to laugh at the same things. I sometimes think that people want to seal my mouth shut with duct tape simply because of how many times I  make nerdy references (particularly to TV) in one day, but what can I say?

My life is a sitcom. 

Be The Change-TEDxYouth

"TED-ideas worth spreading". 

Through a night of networking with intellectual, bright young adults, listening to the eloquent speeches of high schoolers, and raiding the table of snacks, I had something of an epiphany. I like the word "epiphany"-that moment when an idea strikes you intensely and fiercely-but I don't necessarily believe in it. For me, ideas are things that gradually build up over time, but in this case, I'd never felt an idea hit me with such force.

I've always struggled with the idea of altruism. This is partly because I'm a little cynical and I have a hard time believing that people will do things solely for the benefit of someone besides themselves. Also because there's a certain sort of contempt that the word "altruism" displays. I've never been a fan of that holier-than-thou tone. But as I was listening to these teenagers talk about ways that they wanted to change the world, ways they were changing the world, my thoughts on altruism were changed. Maybe in giving people the things we never got, we can not only better their lives, but enhance our existence. 

I have a hard time talking about these things because of how vulnerable it makes me feel and the amount of sappiness I experience, but when you see someone just as vulnerable-well, I think that's liberating in a way. 

I don't want to get all philosophical here, because that would ensue an awful lot of vulnerability, but listening to those young adults speaking at the Princeton Public Library with such honesty and bareness was inspiring. Not only did it fill me up with that positive zeal that being around so many brilliant people does, but I got to meet so many interesting people! Each voice was so unique and special and I loved every minute of it. I also met a father who was from India who talked about how incredible it was to see the youth eager to change the world. He was always bobbing his head to music and nodded sincerely whenever the speakers talked. Possibly the sweetest person I've ever met. 

At the beginning of the event, we were asked to write down a dream of ours. It could be something small or something really grand, but it needed to be a dream we were committed to making happen. I decided my dream would be to change at least one person's life. Now, that sounds like something you'd read in a self-help book or hear in a rom-com, but I really meant it. I think we're constantly impacting each other, even in the smallest ways. I really love that, the idea that if we can all spread a little positivity, we can change the world. Did you know that one smile can cause the same amount of brain stimulation as eating 2,000 bars of chocolate? Not only that, but smiling is something contagious for humans. In theory, one smile could impact someone's life. 

In conclusion, TEDxYouth was a fantastic experience, what with the endless amount of donut holes and "light snacks" they were serving. We also got to hear an amazing a capella group sing a Regina Spektor song. REGINA SPEKTOR. A snazzy jazz band played for us too. It was perfect and left me feeling inspired and ready to write and have a coffee.

Revolutionary Voices reading

Ronak Trivedi giving his speech

How to Charm Your Teachers

As I've stated before, I'm currently writing a novel, which is scary and fun and chaotic. But mainly fun. Sharing writing is a nerve-wracking endeavor but, just like writing itself, feels so good after the coffee drinking-esque nervousness subsides. So here is a small snippet of chapter seven in my novel which is, as of now, still untitled. Enjoy. Or not. No pressure.

7. How To Charm You Teachers

I don’t know if I’m like, the Hermione Granger of my school or something, but all of my teachers adore me.* Like this morning, I was walking in to get some coffee from Dunkin Donuts and I saw my old tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Smyrna. If I hadn’t seen him, I would’ve made my way to work and sat through another boring day, listlessly checking in books. But when you’ve charmed a teacher and they see you in a coffee shop a year later, you end up staying behind half an hour and chatting with this humorous, unfairly handsome man.
There are a few pointers that I’d like to share with you to get to this point.

• Read books. Lots of them and especially the ones from the classic section. Teachers dig it when their students are lounging during class reading a copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. Just make sure you've got a twentieth century American classic in hand, otherwise the lounging part is counterproductive.
• Be a respectful, studious wallflower. This one is pretty obvious, I mean, what teacher wants their students drawing caricatures of them and talking about last night’s episode of Jersey Shore in class?
• Even though you want to be respectful and studious and whatnot, you have to learn to walk that fine line between being coquettish and cheeky and being Daniel Tosh. You’ll learn as you go.
• Stay a little while after class and talk to your teacher. It could be a question about the assignment, a remark about how amazing their new haircut looks (although you should use this one sparingly, as they know how to spot out empty compliments which this one mostly likely will be), or a conversation about how wonderful Roger Ebert’s tweets are. Once you engage with your teacher, they’ll know you’re a sweet and saucy intellectual with fine taste that enjoys talking to elders.**
• Finally, be me. It’s that simple. This will one hundred percent guarantee you to win the heart of every teacher you meet. Every. One.

*With the exception of my French teacher. What can I say? French is hard, and she’s an angsty teacher that writes poetry in a notebook that's bigger than her head. And also my freshman history teacher, the one that wore Winne the Pooh sweaters-What do you mean Wikipedia isn’t a reliable source of information?!

**What? This isn’t you? Now would be a great time to fake it if you want that 4.0 GPA, honey.

Day 125: I wrote a novel once

I wrote a novel at age thirteen, what did you ever do?
You know when you're watching the Olympics, gawking at these teenage world-class athletes, thinking What the hell am I doing with my life? Yeah, not me. Because I wrote a novel last year at age thirteen and that's enough to make me feel more accomplished than a gold medal-winner in London.
I'm doing this crazy thing called NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. That's right, a month dedicated to writing a 50,000 word-novel in 30 days. What's more is that November is my birth month. Happy birthday to me.
So I'm sure you're just dying to know what I'm writing about, aren't you? Here is the premise:

Audrey is an observant, opinionated, and witty 16 year-old, working at a public library. Through her time working as a librarian there, she discovers the beauty of human relationships, missed connections, and working with very eccentric people. As an aspiring writer, Audrey catalogs her insights and experiences each night at midnight over coffee with her boyfriend, Michael and her best friend, Stella, soon realizing that these small trinkets and conversations she's having with people are leading to an interweaving mystery all of its own.
This is her story.

Intriguing, no? It's a very memoir-meets-fiction-meets-mystery novel type of deal. I resist all labels and genres. So far I'm doing swimmingly, at over 2000 words on day one and documenting ideas and inspiration sources in a nifty journal of mine. It's fun and insane and stressful and exhilarating all at once, which is why I love writing so much.
It's weird to think that in less than 30 days I'll have a novel. Brain 'splosion. And hurricane Sandy almost interfered with that. Don't frak with the Trinster.
Also, I've been writing small couplets and poems lately like this one:
Seventeen, sexy, severing you soliloquy.
They tell me that I'm wordy,
That lisps are for the nerdy.

Not sure where that one is going, but I like it. Pretty brill, right? Happy November, kids and Don't Forget To Be Awesome.

Interlude about Politics and Friends

Lesson learned today: do not talk about politics with your friends at lunch unless they a) have the same views as you b) you never really liked them anyway or c) you want to engage in a verbal smackdown, with you ultimately winning but also losing a friend.
When you have a wide range of friends "expressing" their opinions-some having conservative views and you having liberal views-there will be mushroom clouds. Trust me.

Just don't do it.

But you know you've got awesome friends when they make political jokes like,"binders full of nerds". The best.