Everything is connected and beautiful

It was beautiful. The snow glittered in the light the streetlamp gave off and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. He held my hand as we trudged across his yard, he in his boots and me in my Converse high tops. After awhile, I couldn’t handle it anymore, and he noticed. He scooped me up and carried me to our destination: the swings.

I immediately felt disappointment upon arriving. I saw that I couldn’t swing because the snow was so high that the necessary pumping would be impossible. He, wanting to fix the problem, set about trying to fling the swing over the bar to make the chains go up a little higher. When he couldn’t do it, I settled on the lowly swing (my pew, to those who read my poetry…oh wait, you don’t), and straightened my legs as he pushed me toward the tree. He stumbled and fell when he was pushing me, and I swung back and ended up on top of him. We got soaked, but couldn’t help but laugh. I kissed him, kept laughing, and then Becky and Thad came over to assist us after witnessing the whole thing.

Thad had a different way of getting the swing to go over the bar, so when he failed his first try, Robby tried the new method, and succeeded. I was finally free to swing without the snow on the ground interfering.

It was just like it had been over the summer, only so different. I can’t believe I sat on the same exact swing over the summer without knowing whose backyard I was practically in; without knowing that I would soon fall hard for the boy who lives in that yellow house. Because I am falling. Hard. And I know that once I’ve fallen all the way, he’ll be there to catch me so I don’t smash into a million pieces upon welcoming the ground with my body. He’ll be there to keep me safe as he has been doing for the past month and a half of my life. Since that night he stopped my tears and made me laugh. Since that night, I realized that there was something special about him.

After I got too high up for him to push me anymore, I looked at the tree whose leaves I had kicked over the summer. Things had definitely changed, but it was a beautiful change. The cold air pierced my exposed hands and bit into them, giving them more sore and dry cracks, but I didn’t care. It felt so good to swing after months of not having the chance to.

I slowed down, and he greeted me with a kiss. That’s the best greeting I could have asked for. It showed that I had left one dreamland and entered another one.

We trudged through the snow again, holding hands and looking up at the stars. It’s a beautiful thing. But then again, everything has been beautiful lately. To me, anyway.

It’s nice to have her back

I’m weird. That’s what I have learned over the past few days.

I had a few birthday parties to attend this past week (because it seems that everyone’s birthday falls on the SAME DAY). I had to celebrate my grandma’s for a few hours before attending the first one, so that’s what I did. We ate my mom’s special dessert, and I was itching to go, so I hopped on my bike and away I went. I arrived and they were watching a movie. And a really stupid one at that. I’m not a fan of stupid humor movies, so I obviously really didn’t like Airplane. I was also busy focusing on the boy behind me who was hugging me and running his hands through my hair. That can be distracting.

Because I’ve discovered just how much I love being all in my lonesome, I hate being around people. Even people I usually enjoy being around. I couldn’t wait to go home (well, of course, I stopped by my grandparents’ before going home).

The next day is when I found out how weird I am.

I went to another friend’s house (and was kind of dreading it because she doesn’t exactly invite all of the greatest people in the world), and was seriously like a little social butterfly. I went from group to group, just talking to everybody. I suddenly turned into my old outgoing self. I haven’t seen that part of me in quite awhile. It was nice to have her back. There was a specific group I hung out with (with didn’t include my boyfriend, oddly enough), and we even walked to my house to get my Pretty Pretty Princess board game we’d been itching to play. So, we did. In the dark of the trampoline. And swore at the game to make it more exciting.

After a summer of just wanting to be alone, feeling the urge to mingle and be around people was nice. I found a best friend in a girl I haven’t taken the time to talk to lately, and we’ve made plans to hang out all the time. I’m sorry I dreaded what turned out to be an awesome night.

“Sexting – and common sense”

“Eighteen-year-old Jessica Logan of Ohio committed suicide after her boyfriend put her naked photos out in public, but it was also girls who bullied and harassed her. The girl who trusted was socially ostracized more than the boy who violated that trust” (Goodman).

I am all about having an opinion, and it just so happens that Ellen Goodman and I share one on this particular subject. This article has helped me confirm the undeniable conclusion that girls are stupid.

Teenage girls get so absorbed in their “significant other” that nothing else is important to them. When the boyfriend texts and says “hey babe can I get some pics?” the girl will usually be more than happy to oblige. She will think he wants me! and give in to anything he asks. Girls want to feel loved, and when a boy feeds a girl what she wants to hear, she is all his.

I have common sense. I think about the consequences of my actions before I go through with them. If I have to think about something for thirty seconds or more, it probably is not a very good idea. I would never take part in this “sexting” because A) it is a stupid thing to do, and B) I do not even own a cellular telephone. Trust is vital, and honestly, most teenage boys cannot be trusted.

The girls who do have trust in someone have to face the consequences they never fathomed before. What really gets me in a tizzy is that boys have a choice. They can be responsible for a girl’s pain, humiliation, and the baby growing inside of her one minute, and then simply walk away the next. The girl is scarred for simply trusting somebody, but the male involved has no visible boo boos.

“Let’s not forget the sexism in sexting” (Goodman). Yeah, don’t remind me.

I’m strongly against all things sexting. Nobody considers the future consequences anymore and it is a shame. One mistake can screw up the whole problem for you on a math test . . . or it can ruin your life; like it did for Jessica Logan.