Camp.

Yesterday afternoon I returned from my second week long trip to Camp Hebron as a counselor for the fifth grade Outdoor Ed. at my school. And how I feel about that week... I can't even explain. I was so amazed by my experience. Although I had fun as a counselor last year, this year was different. Almost everything about camp was so eye opening, wonderful, and just plain fun. From camp songs to silly kids to going back to 5th grade lessons, I wouldn't change a thing.

All of the girls in my cabin were so individual and adorable and special in their own way. Ashlyn, the hilarious ginger! whose smile never left her face; Paige, the athletic outgoing girl who always had good ideas; Maddie, the tiny hyper one who wasn't afraid to share her feelings; Meredith, the bubbly blonde who was kind to everyone; April, the large girl who tripped over EVERYTHING but had the biggest heart; Tori, the small shy girl who finally came out of her shell; Corrine, the tall quiet one who appreciated nature; Jenny, the quiet girl with the adorable squeaky voice who never let anything keep her down; and Amira; the teensiest cutie who shouted instead of speaking. Each had her own good qualities, and together they made a fantastic group of girls who I'll never forget.

My girls <3

And then there were the boys. I've always been partial to boys over girls when they're at that age, to be honest. I don't know why, they're just so much more entertaining. And although I (obviously) had no males in my cabin, there are still a few whom I hope I'll never forget. There was Jonathan, the precious chubby kid who's a mirror image of my friend's brother and wore an orange polo with khakis to the square dance. Dillon, the little brother of Diana's friend, who had pretty eyes and was hesitant to meet new people. Colton was the precious and sweet Justin Bieber lookalike who was friendly to everyone. And Diana and I couldn't stop laughing at Caleb's dry sense of humor, so advanced for someone of his age (which makes sense, considering he looked to be about fifteen). On the bus Diana and I grew to love Zach, the big eared slightly annoying kid who somehow knew the words to every song that the radio had to offer. And who could forget Patrick and Cameron (known affectionately as Klocky due to the large purple watch that constantly graced his wrist), my favorite bus buddies and the only boys I know who aren't afraid to belt out the words to every song on the radio in front of their entire class. (I know I wasn't supposed to pick favorites, but they were the best).

Left to right: Diana with Dillon & Cameron, Patrick, Diana with Caleb, and Diana with Klocky <3

Not only did I love all of the kids so very much, but I grew to respect each and every one of my co-counselors in different ways. Like John, the assumed douche bag who actually turned out to be a silly and entertaining nature freak who walked EVERYWHERE in his bare feet. Or Matt, the kid who always seemed kind of dull, who cracked sexual jokes when the kids were caught up in the lessons. Alysia, who always seemed to be a cheerleader bimbo but turned out to be such a sweet and endearing girl. Nick (who I personally always thought secretly had a personality, but appeared to hate me throughout the entire year in physics), who I caught singing tunes under his breath on several occasions. Even Darren, the irritating kid in my study hall who, upon discovering that all the girls in my cabin were in love with him, danced with each of them at the square dance and swung them around adorably.

My favorite surprise of camp. Darren is a sweetie? Who knew.

Of course I can't finish this without mentioning my fabulous co-counselors! Oh, the Leahs. The artsy one and the musical one. Each talented, each fun to be around and easy to talk to. I couldn't have asked for better co-counselors... they were the ones that really made everything absolutely amazing. Thanks guys!

Best. Co-counselors. Ever.

Few things are more enjoyable to me than gaining a fresh perspective, and that's exactly what I got from camp. I could go on and on, but for now I'll end with... I'll miss it, and I'll never forget it <3

Ugh... High School

So my high school got the 51st edition of our annual yearbook today.

Now let me explain a little something about LD and yearbooks; each year, upon the release of the yearbook, the school is filled with mutters about "stupid layouts" or "spelling errors" or this and that. But this year, the mutters turned into full out shouts. As a result, chaos ensued.

While normally the complaints about the yearbook range from "have they heard of spell check?" or "whose idea was it to charge us an extra $15 for this cover?, " this year the complaints were far more severe. Claims that the yearbook staff made up quotes and stuck a random name on them and had no idea what they were doing with the layout spread around the school like wildfire. And the worst rumor of all, that a certain staffer (who also happens to be one of my close friends) purposely messed up the senior pictures of other girls on her page in the yearbook to make herself look better, quickly escalated to ridiculous levels.

Comments like these make me so sick of high school... teenagers can be so nasty.

To make matters worse, in order to make themselves feel better about the fact that they paid $75 for a yearbook that they didn't know if they would like or not, many students are now taking their anger out on the yearbook staffers in the form of personal insults. And that's when I became ridiculously angry. I'm sorry, but I liked my yearbook. Loved it, even. It was well thought out, had an intelligent and put together overall concept, unique spreads, and witty commentary. And even if I hadn't liked it, I would never go so far as to have a personal vendetta against the yearbook staff. You know why? BECAUSE THIS IS HIGH SCHOOL. I repeat: This. Is. High. School. If anyone thinks that a high school yearbook really matters in the grand scheme of things, they are sadly mistaken. Let's face it: the same thing happens every year when the yearbook comes out. Everyone looks it over, paging through it carefully for about a week, after which it is generally shoved in a musty closet for the next 40 years, not to be thought of for a long while.

I know I shouldn't be this upset about the yearbook controversy; high school will be over in just one short month, and then I'll never see many of the people involved again. Even so, I can't help getting upset because it just reminds me of society's obsession with anything and everything that doesn't matter. Bad hair days, popularity, petty arguments - there are so much more important things in life to worry about. But for some reason it seems that everyone focuses on the small picture rather than the big picture. And therein lies the one of the major problems of the human race as a whole. It's one that could be so quickly solved, yet continues to find its way into our everyday lives. If perhaps we could somehow learn to focus on the important things in life rather than mundane, everyday activities, our perspectives could be vastly improved.

And that's my two cents for the day.

Under the Cherry Blossom Trees

Spring has sprung. And for once, I'm not hating it.

Sure, there's a lot to hate about spring (from my point of way, anyway). Bugs, humidity, trampy girls thinking that a temperature of above sixty degrees means they should wear ridiculously little clothing. This year, however, something's different. Maybe it's my growing appreciation for life, maybe it's my newfound optimism, I don't know. But this year, spring isn't so bad.

Yesterday my friend Alicia and I had a study picnic under the cherry blossom trees on our school grounds. It was so gorgeous it felt like I had been thrown out of Pennsylvania and into a movie set in some warm Southern state with plentiful vegetation. LD may not be the most fantastic high school, but it really is pretty. The trees bloom in mid-April each year, and I consistently look forward to watching them. It's like one moment the trees are brown and dead, and the next moment tiny, soft pink blossoms appear.

Love, love, love

SO BEAUTIFUL.

Anyways, the picnic turned out quite wonderfully. Start with the cherry blossom trees and throw in a tie dye blanket, baguette, fancy sliced cheese, ensalada de frutas, yummy cookies, and a lovely cupcake bag to hold it all, and you've got yourself a fantastic picnic. Which, by the way, was on my senior to-do list. Mental check! Seriously though, I love picnics. They're so yummy and quaint and appealing.

Our perfect picnic ingredients.

Almost promptly upon arrival at our little self-made cherry blossom haven just outside the 300 wing doors, we decided that we needed a photo shoot right that second (partly because unfortunately, as gorgeous as the cherry blossom trees are, the beautiful pink stage doesn't last long. But I digress). Because we had some studying to get to, the photo shoot didn't last long, but it was enough to remind me how much I miss photography. It was my favorite class (and hobby) last year, and I feel like I've lost touch with it. I miss the precision of adjusting the focus to be just right, the careful pondering of a beautiful scene in nature or a cool object, the satisfying "click" of the shutter when I've finally found the perfect angle. *Note to self: add "many photo adventures" to summer to do list.

Incorporating the cherry blossoms into inanimate objects? Yes.

And for the record, even with all the delicious food and random picture taking we managed to get some studying done for the AP Spanish test (insert horror movie-style scream here). 20 pages of vocab is a lot, but we at least made a dent. Go productivity!

Oh, hello there nature. Thanks for joining us.

Different Worlds.

I always forget about how much I love Florida until I actually get there. Honestly, thinking about it, it isn't that appealing to me. As a person who hates summer, the thought of year round hot weather and humidity makes me want to vomit. But once I'm actually there, it's a different story.

I visit my aunt, uncle, grandparents and cousins once a year at their homes in Florida. And every time I'm there, I feel like I'm in a completely different world - in a good way. It's amazing to think about how different my father and his sister are. Both are fairly well off, and don't really need to worry about money very much at the moment. How they handle their situations, however, is completely different. My father cringes at the thought of spending money, and budgets for himself carefully. My aunt is still responsible, but in a different way - she treats herself and her kids to various luxuries in their everyday life.

Being with my aunt's family in Florida, it's easy to get caught up in the luxury and magic. My relatives' perfectly polished nails, flawless pedicures, silky smooth hair, and extensive wardrobes have proven to be extremely enticing. Not to mention the environment; huge neutrally colored stucco houses, each with its own screened in pool filled with sparkling aqua water, all surrounded by perfectly groomed lawns and towering palm trees, swaying in the breeze. It's like the area is made for high living - and it probably is.

Anyways, you'd think that being surrounded by all these perfectly groomed people who seem to have everything handed to them on a platter would be incredibly intimidating - but it's not. It just motivates me. It seems that every time I return home from Florida my motivation for going the extra mile in terms of everything - school, grooming, clothing - increases astronomically.

So here I am, sitting in the Orlando airport, feeling this incredible urge to better myself.. we'll see how long it lasts, but for now it's pretty awesome. Here's to you, Florida.

Independence?

As the start of college creeps closer and closer, I've been finding that rather than becoming nervous and antsy, I'm becoming increasingly excited at the prospect of being on my own. I've got mixed feelings, really. As a neat freak in a family full of people who never have time to worry about their messes, life at home can get extremely aggravating, not to mention the fact that my brother and I don't exactly get along. Even so, there will be certain aspects of life that I'll miss about being at home; having someone cook for me every night, taking random trips in my car with friends, not having to worry about paying bills.

Still, as a seventeen year old in a small town, the fact remains that independence can't come soon enough. Decorating my own dorm room, controlling what I eat, taking classes that actually relate to what I want to do in my life? Sign me up. The other night I went over to Olivia's to work on our art projects & do a bit of shopping, and after returning from our short lived thrifting spree, we (and by we, I mean Olivia) decided to fix ourselves some dinner.

Eggs can only mean one thing - breakfast for dinner, my favorite.

It reminded me of our trip to the beach with Tiff and Rachel last summer, setting the table, cutting flowers from a nearby garden and mixing lemonade to go with our homemade meals. (Although summer is my least favorite season, relaxed meals with fresh flowers and lemonade make me love it on occasion. But I digress). Anyways, even though we cooked just about the easiest meal known to man, it made me realize how excited I am for college! Dancing around the kitchen as music plays softly through the old fashioned radio, throwing together whatever ingredients seem fitting - it's all so appealing to me. And although I'm not much of a cook, I feel like once I'm in college I'll be able to teach myself a few things about food. It's like when a parent throws their kid into a pool to teach them how to swim - sometimes, getting thrown into a situation without warning is the best way to learn. It may seem harsh, but it's a legitimate learning technique. 

"Makin' lemonade with the Kitchen Aid, makin' her a perfect life" - Ben Kweller

I feel like I often do better when I'm on my own. It's strange, I'm an extremely outgoing and social person, but I frequently enjoy simply spending time alone... frankly, it doesn't happen enough. Which is a shame, because it's not uncommon for me to be astronomically more productive when alone. Doing laundry, cleaning my room, organizing the kitchen - all things that seem to get done when I'm left to my own devices. Of course, it still takes time... I have to organize my thoughts and plan things out.

So all in all, I guess this was my completely long winded and pointless way of saying, Independence? Bring it on. I am so ready for whatever challenges independence throws my way... for now.

Chocolate milk and fried eggs in Oblivia's old fashioned kitchen... yum, yum

DD, Anyone?

Oh, Dunkin Donuts. Why are you occupying my thoughts today? I think when it's to the point that when my after school activities include Dunkin Donuts runs at least once a week, it means a) I've got a serious addiction, and b) I've got too much time on my hands.

A. Addiction? I think yes. I'll take chocolatey frosted goodness for $0.89, Alex. Thank you Tommy for getting me hooked. Those DD employees must be judging us SO hard. Not that we care...

B. As much as I love Dunkin Donuts, it doesn't exactly give me the productive feeling I'm looking for. Now that MiniTHON is essentially over for the year, I'm feeling like I need a new project... like, now. Today I went to school after hours to (attempt to) pick up my camera, and walked right into the middle of a spaghetti dinner raising money for the relief efforts for Japan. I was completely oblivious to the fact that this dinner was even going on, but ecstatic to discover it! I've been so caught up in MiniTHON stuff ever since I learned about the devastation in Japan that I've barely had time to gather my thoughts, let alone think about other causes. But now that I've finally got some free time, I want to do something to help. I need to do something to help.

Considering it's 2AM and I'm still wide awake watching crappy ABC Family movies and surfing the good ol' blogosphere, I'd say now's as good a time as any to get started on this little project of mine. I'm not sure what I'll do, or where it'll go, but I'm optimistic for the time being.

5 months until I'm in State College preparing for my first THON as a Penn State student, and 4 and a half years until I've got the degree in hand to do this stuff for a living.

Life is wonderful, and in the spirit of this whole newfound optimism things, I guess I'll plan for more and embrace the small things in life for now.

Inspiration

I feel inspired.

Last night Mom, Dad, Evan and I took a mini road trip to Philly for the evening to see the concert for Aradhna, a band that my parents sponsor financially. The band plays Christian Indian music, which I'm guessing is undoubtedly an unusual genre of music. I first met the band six years ago when they were introduced to my family by some of our missionary friends based in India. My parents spontaneously agreed to have a small concert in our living room with an Indian buffet dinner, and it was a fantastic experience. Since then, my parents have continued communication with Pete, Chris, Travis, and the other bandmates, eventually agreeing to be one of their financial backers.

You'd think that as a high schooler, I'd find their music a bit boring and strange... I mean, most teenagers aren't really up for listening to songs involving no English lyrics and a sitar. But surprisingly, I found the concert to be phenomenal. Not only was the music beautiful, but it was extremely thought provoking as well.

Namaste Sate Music Video... amazing.

The entire night as a whole was just phenomenal. I love Philly so much it's ridiculous. I think as a person who grew up in the middle of nowhere, I'm naturally inclined to love the city. It's a liberating change to go from a sleepy small town to a city that never sleeps. Anyways, we started off the night with dinner for Dad's birthday at this quaint little Belgian restaurant downtown. After some tasty scallops, pommes frites and chocolate belgian cake, we made our way to the Broad Street Ministry for the concert.

This church was seriously the coolest, most unique church I've ever seen. When I walked in the doors, it seemed like nothing special, just the average church. But upon climbing the stairs to the sanctuary, I was taken aback. Broad Street Ministry isn't your average church. In place of pews sits an eclectic variety of painted chairs arranged in neat rows. And while gorgeous stained glass windows mirror the traditional decor of many churches, the several miniature metal windmills with hundreds of colorful orogami birds interspersed between add a modern, individualistic feel. Moreover, the huge mural on the back wall and varying mixed media paintings give the sanctuary an artsy feel.

And now for some crappy iPhone pictures. (Ah, if only the iPhone that took them was mine).

Candles & the sitar... such an intriguing instrument

Eclectic painted chairs in place of pews

The back of the sanctuary... the awesome painted mural is barely visible at the bottom. 

I absolutely love these paper cranes. 

Unique, alternative artwork in a church? An interesting concept, and it works.

Mixed media art = <3

And of course, candles. I love love love candles.

40,134.85

40,134.85

I have little doubt that this number will be imprinted on my brain forever. Because this number, this number, is the number that represents how much money Lower Dauphin raised for the Four Diamonds Fund at its fifth annual MiniTHON. This number represents all the hard work, dedication, sweat and tears that each committee member put into making this year's MiniTHON a success.

Words cannot even describe how this number makes me feel. It has made all the late nights, all the organized folders, and all of the five million papers spilling out of my orange binder completely worth it. Because the next time I look down at the adorable, smiling face of one of the many Four Diamonds children and siblings whom the Four Diamonds Fund helps every day, I can think to myself, "I've made a difference in the life of this child. WE'VE made a difference in the life of this child."

I've never been more proud of my school. Let's face it, we all know that LD isn't exactly bursting at the seams with school spirit. But I think it's safe to say that this year at MiniTHON, we experienced the closest thing to a show of school spirit that LD has ever experienced. And we experienced it FTK.

I guess what I'm saying is, thank you. Thank you for donating, thank you for participating, thank you for caring.

Together, we've made a difference in the lives of these children, and so many more <3

I love these kids.

!!!!!!!!

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Today is the day that I got in to Penn State <3

THON

In general, I’m not one of those pour-out-your-feelings-in-a-Facebook-note type of people, but after a weekend like this one, I felt the need to. So here goes.

This past weekend I attended my 18th THON at Penn State University in State College. That’s crazy to even think about. 18 years?!?!?! It doesn’t even seem possible; I haven’t even celebrated my 18th birthday yet.

Throughout my life, many things have changed. I’ve moved from towns, schools, and houses, shifted friend groups, discovered new interests, and undergone complete personality changes. But through all that, the one constant has been THON. It never mattered whether I was having a bad day, or week, or year when I was at THON, because all that mattered was the people there, the family that I’ve come to know over the past 18 years of my life.

I could see how someone could think I wouldn’t appreciate THON as much as the average attendee from Hershey; after all, most of them are there because either a family member or they themselves suffer from cancer. I’m just a doctor’s daughter, never really personally affected by cancer. Even so, I now feel as though I have been. The friendships I’ve formed over the years are truly amazing… some of these people I only see once a year, but each year when THON rolls around again, we fall right back in to the rhythm of things as though we had just seen each other yesterday.

It’s so hard to find the right words to describe the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced, and maybe that’s because there are no right words. I don’t think it’s possible to truly understand THON until you’ve experienced it, and when you do experience it, you’ll never forget that experience. I’ve never laughed so hard, cried so hard, had so much fun, gone through so much pain, or felt as amazing as I have at THON. All of my best memories are linked THON, all of my strongest emotions are linked with THON, all of the best things about me are linked with THON.  It has completely changed me, and for the better; what was once a place where I had fun and was completely ridiculous has become a place where I’m inspired to be a better person and to make a difference (and still be completely ridiculous).

This year I was incredibly inspired by the speakers at Family Hour at THON… Family Hour is by far the most emotional part of THON, and one of my favorite parts each year. Several families share their stories, and two videos are shown; the “Where are They Now” video gives a brief synopsis of the accomplishments of Four Diamonds success stories, while the “Celebration of Life” video remembers those who lost their battle with cancer. Anyways, I was inspired by all of the speakers at Family Hour this year; the father of a Four Diamonds child, the family of a former Four Diamonds child, a Four Diamonds Child himself, and the sister of a former Four Diamonds child. I honestly can’t get over how truly moving each and every one of the speeches was.

The family of a former Four Diamonds child spoke of how they had often been asked why they continue to come to THON ever year even twelve years after the death of their daughter. They said that their response to that question remains the same: We want to help other families, because we know exactly what they’re going through. They also shared that THON was the one place their daughter loved most, and when they are at THON, they feel as though she is there with them. I can’t imagine how much strength it must take for them to return every year to a place filled with reminders of the terrible disease that took their daughter from them… but I guess along with the reminders of cancer, come the reminders of love, and hope, faith in others.

The Four Diamonds child that spoke at THON was just as inspiring as the family, and his speech was perhaps the most relatable because of the fact that he, like me, is a senior in high school. It was beyond inspiring that through all of the ordeals he has had to face in the past year, he continues, it seems, to be the eternal optimist. I’m honestly not sure that I’m that optimistic now, and I haven’t faced near as many obstacles as he has.

The speech that most affected me, however, was that of the sister of a former Four Diamonds child. She has faced the same hardships as the other speakers, but the thing that stood out about her story was the fact that she lost not one, but two important people in her life to cancer within the same year. Her younger brother passed away just 6 weeks before she was to dance for him in THON as a freshman, and having to dance without him by her side must have been absolutely heartbreaking. But not as heartbreaking as dancing in her second THON as a sophomore minus a brother and a close friend… the fact that she managed to stay strong enough to continue helping save lives is absolutely amazing, and to me makes her someone to look up to. I can’t even imagine the strength she must have, and it’s really something that I look up to.

People like the ones who spoke at family hour are the reason I THON. I THON for family, for faith, hope, strength, courage, honesty, wisdom, and love. But most of all, I THON for the kids.

FTK <3

THON 2011 Family Hour Videos:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fl1qJA7_ss

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlOev-GRuek

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_Imuwunbok&feature=player_embedded

Technology.

I love nights like tonight.

They happen so rarely... those nights when you rediscover a friendship. Jared and I have been pretty good friends for a while now, and although we hang out frequently, tonight was a different kind of night.

I feel like technology has completely hindered so many areas of my life in recent years. At a time when I used to pick up a good book, I peruse Facebook and Youtube... time that I at one time used to focus on my studies, I now use watch a movie. It's a consistent pattern - and a consistently bad one. It's hard to remember when it all happened... when technology went from a helpful tool to a complete addiction. It's not like it happened suddenly - I didn't suddenly start spending all this time on meaningless and petty activities. But somewhere along the way, what began as an occasional pasttime turned into a daily activity.

When I was younger, I always resented my parents for the way they did things. As other kids played videogames and ran around aimlessly, I was forced to read a half hour each day to increase my reading and comprehension skills. While other children excitedly plopped themselves down in front of the TV for an hour of their favorite cartoons, I didn't even have cable. At the time, I didn't see my parents' reasoning. I thought they were being extremist, difficult, and stubborn. Years later, however, I wholeheartedly appreciate the way I was raised. I've been taught to appreciate art, literature, music, other cultures, and trying new things, and I'm entirely grateful for the ability to experience that. I miss the days when I could sit holed up in my room for an entire day reading a good book, when I didn't need a million mindless activities to keep me entertained.

Tonight reminded me of just how much I miss that.

After a fantastic meal at Tokyo Diner and dessert at Panera with Jaclyn and Olivia, Jared and I decided to run to Borders. We spent around 45 minutes perusing the aisles, occasionally commenting on interesting titles and recommending good reads to each other. I was thrilled that I actually bought two books, because although I'm absolutely in love with bookstores, I can't remember the last time I read a book not for school, let alone the last time I actually bought one.As cliche as it sounds, it reminded me of simpler times. Times when I didn't constantly need my laptop or cell phone or TV or gaming system to talk to friends and enjoy their company. It felt nice to finally hang out with someone without technology, discussing something besides the last episode of our favorite shows or the latest school gossip. And as much as I love singing along to the radio in the car like a five year old, turning the radio off for once and discussing our favorite literature and writers was refreshing.

I'm going to attempt to shy away from technology in the coming weeks; I honestly don't know how successful I'll be, but I'm anticipating putting the time I normally use to mindlessly surf the web to better use.

Keep It Inside.

Sometimes I wonder about myself.

I’ve always told myself (as well as others) that with me, what you see is what you get. I don’t morph myself to fit society’s molds, or try to change myself so others will like me. That much is true, but at the same time it’s not. Although I don’t change myself or lie about my opinions per se, there is more to me than meets the eye. I may be exactly who you see in terms of my personality traits and likes and dislikes, but when it comes to emotions, I’m a closed book. I avoid showing emotions at all cost; not because I’m afraid of what others will think of me, just because… I guess I don’t like feeling vulnerable. I was that girl once. The girl who makes all of her emotions utterly apparent, the girl whose heart is broken easily, the girl who cries at the simplest thing. I don’t want to be her again, I know that. But I also don’t want to be made of stone. It’s one thing to stop myself from being overly emotional, but it’s another thing entirely to hide all of my emotions completely.

Sometimes I think people don’t understand me. They see the funny person, always cracking jokes and laughing at stupid things. And in a sense, I am that person. But – and I know this sounds cliché – there’s more to me than meets the eye. I have emotions, opinions, thoughts, worries, dreams.

I’m a pretty amicable person, so I have lots of friends. But I have few real friends, friends I can truly talk to about anything. It’s not that they don’t make the effort, some of them do. It’s just that when I start to get close to someone, I naturally clam up. I don’t know why I do it, but the point is that I do. I think I’m pretty good at avoiding things – it seems to me that with a simple topic change most people can forget that they even asked me a personal question in the first place.

Lately I’ve been thinking that the reason I keep so many things inside is because I’m waiting for someone who I can share everything with. Someone I feel comfortable enough around to tell my deepest, darkest secrets. Considering the fact that I’m a seventeen year old girl living in Central Pennsylvania, maybe dark isn’t the right word for my secrets, but I digress.

I’ve been crying a lot lately. Not that anyone knows… with the freedom that comes with a driver’s license comes the privacy. I’ll be honest, to me, right now, there’s no better feeling than driving around on the back roads in the dead of winter with the radio cranked up and the sunroof open. And although that may (and often does) involve randomly crying for seemingly no reason, it’s still the best feeling in the world. Sometimes I like to be alone. It may seem impossible considering how loud I am, but I absolutely love the peace and quiet the open road brings.

My brain feels weird right now. It’s like my thoughts are swirling around in my head and I just have to grab one and try to hold on to it and focus. I’ve always either got writer’s block or word vomit. I can’t make up my mind. I’m unfocused and completely counterproductive. Hopefully this vacation will help get my mind a little more on track…

Snow

I love snow.

I love looking outside my bedroom window late at night and seeing the beautiful, seemingly enchanted white forest that snow creates out of the woods surrounding my house. I love standing outside in the middle of a snowstorm trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue. I love staring at the beauty that is winter, glimpsing small puffs of my breath in front of me and feeling my cheeks grow rosy from the wonderful, wonderful cold that snow brings.

I know what you're thinking. Everyone loves snow, right? Maybe, but I feel like few people truly appreciate it. To all the realists out there: yes, I am aware that snow is really just a form of precipitation that occurs when the temperature drops below 32 degrees Fahrenheit. That may be the proper scientific definition, but to me, snow is something more.

Snow is like a blank canvas; you can do anything you want with it. The possibilities are endless - sledding, snow angels, snow men - hell, shovel it out of there if you want. Point is, what you do with snow is your choice; and in many cases, the possibilities are endless. Sound familiar? I guess what I'm trying to say is, snow is like life. It starts out clean, pure, and white; no imperfections, no memories. But as time goes on, the snow is shaped and molded according to those who use it. Footprints are embedded in its surface, and eventually it loses its pearly white color, until, one day, it melts completely.

You can say it's inconvenient if you want; you can whine and gripe about shoveling the snow out of the driveway and driving carefully on the freshly plowed roads. But let's face it; that's life. Nothing actually stays perfectly white and untouched. At some point, someone's going to step on the snow. Some plow is going to shove some nasty street snow into it, turning it an unpleasant grey color. But even if all of that happens, the fact remains; it's still snow. And just because it's tainted, doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy it. In the same way, life can be inconvenient. It's not all a walk through a bed of roses. Times are tough, and not every person you meet is going to be your favorite person in the world, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy life while you can. After all, snow never lasts long; before you know it, it's melted completely. And although that exact snow will never return, it's memory will remain imprinted on the minds of those it affected. Memories of snow forts, sledding, making snow angels with best friends as a child often stay with a person throughout his or her entire life. And hopefully, if you're lucky, the memory of you will stay with the people in your life throughout their entire lives.

Second Chances

http://www.pennlive.com/midstate/index.ssf/2011/01/4_manheim_central_students_kil.html

That's what happened on Sunday.

Four high schoolers lost their lives in a tragic car accident. Stuff like that happens every day, right? Maybe, but nothing ever happens in my tiny little town nestled in the midst of central PA. Until now, apparently.

The thing that really gets me about this whole incident is how sudden it was. Those people, they were just kids having fun. They went out to breakfast like they did every week, expecting to return home in an hour, expecting to go back to their lives. Only they didn't. Because their lives just... stopped.

I've always wondered what a situation like that would do to me. What I'd do if I were in the crash but survived, if I were given a second chance at life when I thought it was all over. I'd like to think that I'd change my ways, that I'd be completely honest with everyone I know and start doing all the things I've always dreamed of doing. But to be honest, I'm not sure if that would actually happen. I'd probably have one catharctic moment, then immediately go back to my life as though nothing had even happened.

I feel kind of numb right now. I can't really explain why; I had never even met these kids. I guess it's just the fact that they were so close, the fact that they were MY age... it all seems pretty surreal. Sometimes life is just too short.

Pretending.

The past few days have been hard.

Jeanice died on Friday.

There. That's the first time I've actually said it out loud - or at least as out loud as it gets on the internet. I've been feeling the strangest mix of emotions since Dad told me about it. It's like I want to cry, but I just can't. I just feel sad, and confused, and... empty. On Saturday in the midst of a fun impromptu trip to the grocery store with my friends, I started feeling really sad. I'm talking sit on the floor and cry until the tears stop coming sad. Break down in the middle of the aisle sad. But I didn't. I pulled myself together and pretended nothing was wrong like I always do. I wandered off for a moment to gather my thoughts, and the next thing I knew I was staring at the meat aisle fighting off tears.

It kind of bugs me that none of my friends even noticed that anything was wrong. I mean, I know it shouldn't. They're not psychic, and I was holding in my emotions, so why would I even want them to notice? It's not so much that I want the attention, because to be perfectly honest that's one of the last things that I want. I just want someone to know me, to care. To know me well enough to see when something is wrong, and care enough to ask if I'm okay.

That's all I've ever wanted, really.

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Memories

Did you ever have one of those moments where you look at a picture and a thousand memories and emotions come flooding back within seconds?

The other day I was looking through some old pictures in search of some "younger year" photos for the yearbook, when I came across a picture. It was a photo of my father holding a small child, broad grin plastered on his face. I smiled for a moment, then it hit me. It was him. I hadn't seen a photo of him in years, but the minute it hit me, it all came flooding back; the twisting in my gut that I feel every time I see his picture, the tears that trickle down my cheek.

Sometimes I still don't understand why I feel the way I do about him. I mean, I never even met him... never introduced myself, never looked into his eyes, never saw that adorable smile in person. Not that I can recall, anyways. But he's had more of an effect on me than anyone I've ever known, or heard of. Inspired me more than all the other people in my life combined.

I remember the first time I saw him as though it were yesterday. Thousands of people crowded in a silent gym, faces somber, eyes glassy and glued to the Jumbotron containing the slideshow of children who succombed to childhood cancer. I'd seen the slideshow many times before, seen the faces of many more children who didn't make it. But none of them seemed to hit me like his did. I still don't know what it is about him that gets to me so much. In the end, I don't think it was his innocent brown eyes, his genuine grin - it was the way he hugged his sister in those few photos of him that I saw.

I've never told anyone about him before, not a single soul. I guess I've just never met someone I can be completely open with, share all of my emotions with. I hope one day I'll be able to actually tell someone about him, that I'll feel comfortable enough with a person to divulge my deepest feelings. One can only hope...