Making a difference

I was recently inducted into my high school’s chapter of the National Honor Society. To be perfectly honest, I don’t really know what a National Honor Society does. All I know is that it’s a group full of the best kids in the school, and our goal is to help people. However, in past years, our NHS hasn’t been helping people or our community. In fact, the people of NHS have barely been doing anything. I’m working on changing that. I’m an aggressive and driven person. I can only hope that my ambitious behavior will inspire my classmates to be the same way.

I’m the person that will volunteer to go first when nobody else raises their hand. I am always the first person to jump into the pool when we swim in gym class, and one time the girls in my class were whining about a band aid that was floating on top of the water. To shut them up, I scooped it up and threw it over the side. Simple as that. I do what nobody else will. That’s just how I am. Here I am again, carrying on with what has become a trend in my life.

I dreamed of doing an NHS garden. I knew right where I wanted to put it and could envision it in my mind when I closed my eyes. The only problem was getting my fellow NHS members to cooperate and also think that it was a good idea. Well, they all agreed with me and wanted to do something with our community for once. One of our advisors was right with me the whole time and supported me as I explained what I wanted to do. Every single hand went up in the room when I asked if anyone was interested in doing this project through NHS. I was beyond pleased.

From there, I contacted a lady I knew could help us plant flowers and offer her expertise on flower gardens. She was all for everything I had to say and even had ideas of her own for us to try out. The only thing I needed to do was find out who owns the land I wanted to plant our garden on. I texted one person, got an answer, called the answer to the question, then when that person didn’t own it anymore, left a message on the answering machine of the lady that currently owns it. The next morning, I got a text message from the lady whose answering machine I had left a message on. She wanted to meet with me that day at 5:00 (and thus begins what I referred to in my last post as a “hellish week”). So, that day I stayed after for tryouts for our annual G-Town Showdown (more on that later) and then skipped practice to take care of some things.

I made it to the bank in the nick of time and cashed my check, then paid a friend I owed money to in relation to prom, and then chatted with her for awhile. I talked to Robby’s mom and dad, bought Robby the Luden’s cough drops we both devour constantly and then took off to chat with my editor about a position on the payroll. When that was deemed impossible, we sat and chatted for awhile. We talked about everything. I barely know her as a person; I just know her as my boss. It was nice to sit down and have a normal conversation and discover that a lot of our opinions are very similar.

At quarter to five o’clock, I walked over to where I was to meet the lady. I sat down on the bench sitting in front of the patch of grass I want to plant our garden in and waited for her to arrive at her photo studio. When she did, we exchanged friendly hellos and then set about the task we had before us. We discussed what I had planned for the land she owned ride next to her studio. After I explained everything, she approved it and said we had creative freedom to do whatever we, NHS, want. It was like a personal victory for me. At that moment I realized that one person COULD make a difference.

Since then, I have been riding on a cloud, dreaming about that garden. In fifty years, when I come back and visit good ol’ Gowanda, I’m expecting that garden to still be there, with current NHS members still feeding it and giving it the nutrients it needs. I want this to be something that kids in National Honor Society can take care of every year.

Already, in one week of trying to get this project up and running, my ideas of earned us $122 toward the garden. I organized a “Wear Jeans Day” for the teachers at my school, and they donated money to our garden to pay for the fact that they were wearing jeans on Friday. $122 may not sound like much, but it’s more than half of what NHS had in its account to begin with. I’d say that’s a pretty big step toward making my dream come true. I hope that once we really start getting dirty in that garden that my fellow NHS members feel as passionate about this as I do.

I want us to do something we can be proud of. I want to do something for our community. One person CAN make a difference. I’m proof of that.

Another Sunday night

I was typing last night whilst sitting upright in bed and I realized just how much I enjoy the sound of keys getting tapped on a keyboard. So, here I am once again. It’s nearly midnight on yet another Sunday night in my life. Another week is gone and I keep getting older with every second that passes. It’s kind of a scary though, isn’t it?

I had been living in a dazed state up until recently. People didn’t bother me during that short amount of time and I found myself smiling for no reason at people I hardly even knew. However, lately people have been getting on my nerves more than ever. Maybe it’s because of the last week I have lived through that was hellish even without the assistance of the people that keep making their entrances and exits in my life. But, in that hell of a week I lived through I gained and retained friendships with some of the nicest people I have ever met. Everything happens for a reason.

There are some people who I know are living their lives while looking through masks they have molded throughout the years. I’d like to believe that they are the people they say they are, but I know better than to believe a single word they say. I’m sad that they are who they are. I wish I could change them for the better. From now on, I’ve decided to ignore who they are behind their facades and just deal with the people that they’re showing. There must be a reason why they’re hiding everything else, and who am I to expose it and question it? I’ve decided it’s none of my business despite the intense bout of curiosity I am feeling. I’ve decided to take advice from The Beatles and just “Let It Be.”

I’m growing up; I’m moving on; I’m getting things accomplished. I am so proud of myself for that. I’m not going to waste time worrying about the other people that come into my life. People that are only going to leave the next minute.

Room of testosterone

People seriously annoy the hell out of me. I lose all hope in humanity sometimes because of stupid people. And maybe this isn’t that big of a deal, but I just feel like ranting right now.

I hate girls that have super light hair and wear super dark eyeliner. It makes them look dead. It makes them look like they have black eyes. It makes them look, well, you get my point. There are also those girls with the side part that makes it look like they have a comb-over. It covers their dead, dark eyes. They have to tilt their head to get it back into place when it falls the way IT’S SUPPOSED TO GO. I hate girls that just don’t seem to get it. It annoys me when girls wear tons and tons of makeup, and yet boys can’t seem to see that. They are obviously self-conscious about their looks, but I guess that boys just eat that shit up. I shouldn’t be concerned about this, because I have a boyfriend who adores me no matter what I look like, makeup or no makeup (usually no), but it still pisses me off. I shouldn’t care about the insecurity of every girl in this world when I am totally secure. But, I do. It’s discouraging and saddening.

I hate girls in general, I suppose. I’d much rather be in a room full of testerone than one of estrogen. I think I’d commit suicide in the estrogen one. I grew up with boys. I’m used to them. Girls are catty… and I hate them.

DSCF1708

“Ignorance” is my new best friend

I think I have listened to the song “Ignorance” over ten times. And sure, that’s not a lot compared to the people that have played it 500 times and more, but that’s a big number for me. I don’t like to listen to the same song all the time; I like to mix it up a bit. Listening to “Ignorance” over 500 times in one sitting would make me hate it.

It still sounds like Paramore. The title looks like a word Paramore would use. I’m sure that if I were to taste the song it would taste like Paramore (whatever that flavor is). Hayley’s voice seems a little edgier in this song than any song I have ever heard her sing. It’s still beautiful, of course, but this makes me anxious to hear the other tracks on the new album Brand New Eyes. I have a live version of “Where The Lines Overlap,” but it’s so hard to listen to something that has screaming from people at the concert in the background. I guess I will have to wait until September 29th.

All We Know Is Falling is still my favorite Paramore album and has been since its release in 2005. Maybe this Brand New Eyes will top it. I don’t know though; it’s always hard to beat the original.

I cannot wait until September 29th.

BrandNewEyesgroupshotIGNORANCEhayleysingingbiglollipop

Thirteen poems later…

Thirty days hath September, April, June and November…

Throughout this 2009 month of June I:

  1. wrote thirteen poems,
  2. apparently listened to 398 songs from iTunes while sitting at my computer (and I’m still adding onto that number),
  3. learned that some people believe that the black bits in a banana are tarantula eggs,
  4. watched Charlie’s Angels with a friend – and laughed at all of the horrible special effects,
  5. ran the fastest 1500 I have ever run and reset my school record (4:54),
  6. helped reset our school record once again in the 4X800 (split time: 2:24),
  7. volunteered for a youth track program,
  8. met a little girl who coined herself the name “Taco,”
  9. read the first-ever Emily the Strange novel,
  10. got writing advice from the co-author of that first Emily novel,
  11. laughed my ass off over a cooler that had a sign labeled “MILK,”
  12. watched my youngest older brother graduate from high school,
  13. ate several giant strawberry flavored marshmallows,
  14. finished my sophomore year of high school,
  15. took three grueling NYS Regents exams,
  16. received my last report card for this school year and was surprised by the grade I earned without even trying,
  17. did enough laundry to last me a lifetime,
  18. found my Pretty Pretty Princess game which I had not been able to locate for the longest time,
  19. found tears rolling down my cheeks after the announcement one of my favorite teachers had to give,
  20. conducted several angry rants in my head toward certain people,
  21. petted little golden retriever puppies, one after the other,
  22. wore pretty pink heels with chains,
  23. created my very first portfolio in hopes of securing another writing job,
  24. shared many secrets with one of my very best friends,
  25. revisited The Waterfall with my boyfriend, and got pushed into the steady stream of cold water,
  26. pretended to be Chinese/Japanese ping pong players with my friend and my brother’s friend,
  27. got one of my favorite songs RUINED by a couple of my friends who went to college and suddenly discovered the hidden meaning of it,
  28. learned that people down in central Pennsylvania often slip and say “let’s go hale some bay!”,
  29. strapped parachutes onto little kids and watched them run around and
  30. lived and breathed during every single one of these.

So, I guess this is goodbye, June. You and May are my two most favorite months of the year, and both of you are over already. Thanks for the rain, the sun, the wind and the thunder and lightning. I’ll see you next year; the last June before the June of my high school graduation. What a scary thought.

Climbing to the top

All County tomorrow.

Am I nervous? Naw… I have a kick-ass outfit laid out that is dressy and sophisticated, yet it lets my style show through as opposed to the first outfit I had picked out. Now all I need to do is pack my bag, get some sleep, shower in the morning (this is my review time for the music I’ll be singing that day, of course), gulp down some coffee and a bowl of the last bit of shredded wheat I saved specifically for tomorrow, paint my nails, get dressed, put on some eye makeup so my eyes don’t disappear, clean my glasses, and get out the door successfully. It can be done; I’ve done it all before.

Last year I successfully climbed to the top of my All County ladder and held a major solo in my grasp. Unfortunately, our concert was canceled due to bad weather, but I am certain that that will not be the case this year. If it does happen, I might just jump out of a five-story window. Kidding, of course.

Tomorrow I have to be prepared for anything and everything. You’d better believe that one of my many Emily bags (which to choose?!?) will be transformed into the Barney bag for a while. If you need it, I’ll have it.

Tomorrow’s going to be awesome. I get to sit in a room all day with people that competed to get where they are, just like I and a few of my choir mates have. I get to listen to someone that knows what he’s talking about (not that I don’t get that everyday anyway, because I totally do), but this guy teaches those who are at a college level (my current teacher included). This will be interesting.

My only hope is that we get a nice cozy auditorium with comfy chairs. My bottom hurts right now just thinking of the chairs we had to sit on last year.

You be you, I’ll be me

I can see through people. Not many people have this ability, but I certainly do. When people lie, I can tell. When people cover something up, I can tell there’s something more. When someone only pretends to like me, I can tell. When people are fake, it makes me sad. When people copy what I do and call it their own, it depresses me a little. What? Can they not come up with something on their own? If you feel that you need to lie, that’s okay with me. If you don’t mention a major detail of a story, fine, I won’t pry. Go ahead and keep pretending to like me. As long as it avoids stupid drama I’m fine. If talking about me keeps you entertained, that’s okay with me. If you feel the need to hide yourself and put up a false front, okay. I’ll be me, you be not you. It’s when someone copies me that really gets to me. I don’t care if it’s supposed to be flattering – it honestly gets very annoying. Be you, I’ll be me. Get your own ideas, create your own style…and leave me be. I’ve accepted that original thoughts are next to impossible (the world is so full of people – it is only to be assumed that someone has thought of something before me), but my style; my original way of life; the way I go about my business has to be my own. You be you (unless you’re fake), and I’ll be me. Subtract original thoughts, but add in a lot of confidence. Confidence is what I thrive on. To be like me you must have confidence. Well, do you?

As you would have done unto you

I have learned many lessons in my fifteen years. Not as many as other people have, I’m sure, but I am getting there.  I could sit here and try to think of them all, but there is only one that stands out to me everyday to show just how prominent it is. Being polite gets you far. No question about it.

My parents have always taught me to say “please” and “thank you” whenever the chance arises; to be courteous and open a door or two for people, and to help an old lady out by loading her groceries into her car. (Okay, so that hasn’t happened yet, but I am waiting for the chance to do so!) It’s not like we – or I – believe in karma, that what goes around comes around (in this case, it’s a good “what”), it’s more like we go by “do unto others as you would have done unto you.” It’s that sort of thing. So, when I have to pass in front of a person or need a person to move out of the way, I say “excuse me” and get what I needed accomplished complete in a polite and sincere manner. I hold doors open for people, and when I hear a simple “thank you” it makes me happy and brightens my day considerably. I am careful to lower my voice when in public so as to not annoy or aggravate those around me whom I do not know. I am considerate, courteous, and thoughtful. I think about not only what I need, but what others need and wish for as well.

Now, what’s the point of this insightful post? Well, today was one of those days where every person I met was not polite in any way whatsoever. In Walmart, my mother and I were in the produce department looking at the Clementine oranges, and this lady came over and leaned over where we were standing without a single uttering of “excuse me.” Each time someone does this to us, either my mother or myself will say “excuse me” for the person who lacked to do so. It is so rude to just barge in near a person whom you are not acquainted with. The nerve of some people!

Lastly, my mother and I went to Kohls to check out what kind of a selection of flannel shirts they carried. We purchased what we wanted, and headed out the door. Well, almost entering the  door we are heading out of troops three women. Okay, so my mom went on through and opened the outside door for them, and I opened the second door that led to the inside of the store. They walked on by. No acknowledgment. Not a single one of those three women said a tiny little “thank you.” They didn’t even look at us. Well, my mom yelled “you’re welcome!” and then we walked across the parking lot, ranting about how there are no polite people these days.

And it’s the truth. Honestly, some people have no class and are so rude that it kills me. No wonder our country is so messed up. People take the help they receive for granted, and don’t know how to feel thankful for anything. I was raised to be cordial and polite to everyone I ever come in contact with, whether I like the person or not. You’d better believe that my children will have manners and know how to say “thank you” more than every once in awhile. They will appreciate everything I have provided them with, and will hopefully spread it on to this thankless nation. The people in this state, in this country, no, in this world, need a little make-over. Maybe I shall build an arc and rid the world of all of these people with a teensy little flood. Start the world over with a group of people that know and adhere to my policy. “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.”

We get it! You kissed a girl and you liked it

Katy Perry.

When I first heard her hit “I Kissed A Girl,” I thought, hey, this isn’t bad. It’s actually kind of funny. Then I heard it again. And again. And again. And again. Everytime I turned on the radio. Every single time I flipped to Playlist. Everywhere I turned, people were singing it. I took it off my iPod after having it on there for less than a week. Goodbye, Katy.

I have not listened to her full CD, but the ones I have heard have not brought pleasure to my ears. Namely “Ur So Gay.” Honestly?!? HONESTLY?!?!? I disliked it right away because of the spelling of “you’re,” but then the song was horrible as well. It was mostly the lyrics that really pissed me off.

I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf
While jacking off listening to Mozart
You bitch and moan about LA
Wishing you were in the rain reading Hemingway
You don’t eat meat
And drive electrical cars
You’re so indie rock it’s almost an art
You need SPF 45 just to stay alive

You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like boys
You’re so gay and you don’t even like boys
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like
No you don’t even like…

…and that’s not even the whole song.

Listen, I’m not all about gay rights or anything, but this song and these lyrics are so awful! There are plenty more creative people with meaningful lyrics that deserve what she has and more. Sure, she may be homophobic, but that does not mean she has to profess her dislike of the gay population to the whole world. I mean, c’mon! She kissed a girl! Should she not be sick with herself?

She got famous with the most meaningless song on the planet, became even more famous with her other meaningless songs, and now her music is sung by young girls across the country? What’s wrong here?

I hate the little onesie things that she wears for concerts. I watched her performance on MTV one night, and her voice was even worse than her lyrics. She’s like one of those Disney kids where you can tell just how much technology has interfered with their “talent.” (‘Cause for some reason every Disney kid has to sing as well – that’s another thing I get pissed about.)

I respected her at first. I thought “I Kissed A Girl” was neat because it was different; no other artist I know of would ever come up with something so bizarre. Now it’s old, and she’s trying to use another single off of her album (the soft song on the album) to show her vulnerable side. Well, I don’t see it. Keep kissing girls and telling people that they don’t even like… PENIS. (Seriously, look up those “Ur So Gay” lyrics and you’ll know what I am talking about.)

Emily out.

What gives you the right?

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately. Mostly about life, death, murder, killing… etc…

Where am I going with this? Well…

I have been thinking about people that have taken another person’s life. Murderers, crazy people, people that should call a jail cell home as punishment for what they’ve done… What gives those people the right to take someone’s life away? Do they think that they are important enough to do something as horrible as that? How can someone stand up, point a gun at someone, shoot, and then still be able to live with themselves afterward?  I have future spreading out in front of me, or so it seems. What if I don’t? What if someone suddenly decides that they are good enough to take my life because they are not happy with their own? Yes, I am full of “what ifs,” but that’s just how I am.

I think guns should be illegal. Yes, they’re useful for hunting and whatnot, but these instruments can end someone’s life with the pull of the trigger – what gives a person the right to do that?