Two years of “The Bubble”

Two years.

Two freakin’ years.

You have got to be kidding me.

 

Papa handed me the check. I cashed it. Envelope overflowing with money. Most I’ve ever held.

Most I’ve ever spent. I handed it over and drove an iridescent Volkswagen Bug home. Mom and I were positively giddy on that ride back.

 

During the Eucharist at mass this morning, Oct. 14 (I’m not a usual churchgoer…I just happened to be at Mt. Irenaeus), I noticed an older gentleman go up for his share. He wore khaki pants and a checkered dress shirt. He hunched over just a tad.

My eyes were glued.

He reminded me so much of Papa.

Reminders of Papa do not crop up as often as they used to. I’m on year two; I’ve adapted. I get sad sometimes, but it’s not as overwhelming as it used to be.

I had to stare at the floor so nobody would notice my tears. My chin started to do its “I’M ABOUT TO CRY!” wobble and I bit my lip to halt it.

I’m in college. The only older gentlemen I see are friars and a few professors. How often do I see men in their 80s? It’s just not a daily thing anymore.

So it struck me. Especially on the day marking two years since the purchase of Bubbles.

 

I felt you today, Papa. Thank you.

Thank you for “The Bubble.”

For(n)ever

The word “forever.” What an overused word. Nobody knows the concept of forever. Nobody knows where forever is or how long forever is going to take. “This is going to take forever!” Yeah, doubt it. What a stupid hyperbole.

I can sort of understand if two people believe that they are going to be together “forever” if they are united in holy matrimony, but Divorce can still but its ugly head in there and Devour that useless forever. Forever is a hard word to comprehend, so why do people use it so often? Nobody knows the true meaning!

Teenagers are stupid. When it comes to relationships, they overuse this silly seven-letter word. (Yes, I am a teenager. I, however, am not stupid.) If someone can break your heart once, chances are they are capable of doing it again. Surely it would be a mistake to assume that the second time around is going to “last forever!” That’s just setting yourself up for heartbreak. Once that “forever” isn’t met, someone is left heartbroken. Assumptions lead to disappointment. Your aunt and uncle may have been high school sweethearts, but times have changed. There are far more fish in the sea.

I’m not dissing high school relationships. I’m dissing the stupid kids that think that they have found “the one” when their “significant other” is the only one they have ever met or fallen in “love” with. How do you know a person is The One when they have been the only one? I am a practical person. I care for my boyfriend with all of my heart, but I know not to assume that in ten years I’ll still be with him. I’m in high school. In two years, I’ll be facing my last summer as a real kid. In two years, no matter where he and I are in our relationship, we will most likely part ways. Until that time comes, I’m going to spend all of my free time with him; my best friend and my boyfriend. I can’t expect a “forever.”

I don’t know everything about everything, I’m just tired of people that seem to think that they do. I’m tired of people that talk about this concept of forever like they’re experts. None of us are; none of us ever will be. You can’t expect a “forever” when nobody even knows what this “forever” is.

Emily’s poetry, a history

I’ve been writing poetry for years. My mother named me after her favorite poet, so why not carry it on? I started out with a composition notebook that I decorated with stickers. Everyone just assumed it was my diary, as if it couldn’t be anything but a shallow notebook with all of my deepest secrets and fears hidden inside. Nobody gave me enough credit. Boys would steal it from me, but I managed to get it back without any harm done. They were only teasing. Teasing is harmless, right?

After that was filled, I moved onto a pink camouflage notebook that had pens attached to the front of it. It was nifty because if I had an idea I didn’t have to hunt for a pen before being able to write it down. The pens were just there. That notebook was also known as my “diary” and even a teacher asked: “why do you bring your diary to school?” To which I simply replied: “it’s not a diary.”

I poured random thoughts and whimsical dreams into those notebooks. Within about a month, the pages started ripping out of the pink camo notebook, so I saved the paper, but threw the rest of the notebook in the garbage. It was time to move on again.

I found a regular old yellow spiral notebook and plastered it with quotes, stickers, drawings, and pop-up sunflowers that I ripped off a thing I had at home. Poetry was transferred from my head onto the pages of that thing for about a year. I entered the seventh grade with the same notebook, and only showed the ones I was proud of to my then English teacher (who is now a teacher in the high school). The boys in my grade grew up a little and stopped calling it my diary, and I continued writing.

For my birthday that year, one of my best friends (we barely speak anymore…) bought me a hardcover spiral notebook with puppies on the front. Said notebook lasted me for nearly two years. That notebook taught me something important. Because I wanted the notebook to last, I only wrote poetry when I really really felt like it and had a good feeling about an idea. I decided that I didn’t have to write about everything – but there are some things that I will always wish to remember. I still have one page left in that notebook that remains empty. If I fill it in, the notebook is done forever. I always want to have the option of being able to fill it up totally. It’s amazing to go from the earlier poems in that book to the last few. It’s like traveling through two years of my life in thirty minutes.

Eventually, I took a little notebook that was a party favor at some birthday party I went to (I think it was Carin’s) and ripped out the used pages. I then covered it with duct tape, and voila! New notebook.

Using the duct tape notebook, I rewrote some of the ones I am really proud of, but I also wrote a year’s worth of new material. I am still busy filling it up with my life, so it’s a work in progress. It’s crazy to see how much I have grown in the past year. There are some poems in said book that are extremely naive and young-sounding. I know I will say the same thing in the future when I look back at what I wrote when I was fifteen (the present… for now), but I like what is exploding out of my pen at the moment. Maybe I will post some examples in the near future (which is defined as: later today).

Paramore Obsession

Just to clear the air, I have been a devoted fan to Paramore for almost two years. I have been with them through the early stages of their career, and have witnessed their rise to fame after appearing on MTV. The fact that they were on MTV really – in the words of Bleeker – “cheesed me off,” but I remained loyal. I ignored all of the people at school singing Misery Business because I knew that that was the only song by Paramore that any of them knew. So far, quite a few people have told me that they know only Misery Business and Crushcrushcrush when I ask them which Paramore song they like the most. They only have two to choose from! They are not fans!

Anyways, I have an insane obsession with Paramore, and most of all, the lady herself: Hayley Williams. She is my idol and such a great inspiration and artist. I love the whole I’m a girl, but I am in a kick-ass band. The past month (boring summer) I have spent gathering as many Paramore songs as I possibly can. I have both of their CDs (I’ve had them for quite some time), but now my goal is to acquire all of the rare unreleased songs of theirs. I love hearing songs that not very many people have heard (especially since they have OH SO MANY “fans” these days). I sing along, and am in the process of compiling a Paramore tribute on Garage Band. I now have forty-six songs by Paramore. Compare that to the twenty-four that are on their two CDs. Yes, I have been doing my research. Getting acoustic versions and hearing how lovely Hayley’s voice really is is such a treat.

My dream is for my brother to take me to a Paramore concert (he has already attended one – how unfair!!!). I would love to at least meet my idol in person: the one and only Hayley Williams.

PARAMORE ROCKS, FOO’!