Ugh. Day 3 of my personal challenge and I’m down to the wire. Pictures count as a post, right? Whatever here….
Why is it that negativity is so much easier than positivity? I know I am guilty of constantly pointing out the negative things before considering the brighter side. I think in these trying times it’s easy to quickly point out how bad things are, but what good does that do us? Even if the only good thing is that things could be worse, that’s something. So today, 5 positive things that I love.
1) Sunny mornings that signal the promise of Spring.
2) Selling tickets to a concert for more than twice what I paid for them.
3) The reason I’m selling the tickets. The concert falls on the same night as a school coffee house, where I will help a friend ask his girlfriend to prom in front of the entire audience.
4) A text message from a friend asking me to come help make shirts for spirit week. Even though I obviously won’t be at school to see them, it’s nice to know I’m not forgotten.
5) Cookies and Cream ice cream for breakfast, because you only live once.
I’ve been cleaning my room for about a week now. It seems like every time I clean I have stop for at least a few hours to sift through this old pink boot box in the back of my closet. I keep almost everything that has any sort of meaning to me, and this box is like a little passport to special memories in my life. Sure, I could throw these things away, but for some reason I can’t seem to part with certain items. The box is filled to the brim and will probably need replacing soon.
There are at least two years worth of movie and concert tickets stubs. Notes passed in class. One of the handmade invitations to my sweet sixteen. Dozens of old birthday cards. Wristbands from every single school dance and event. Postcards from places I will never visit. A game card with a little sticker of my best friend and me from my eleventh birthday party. Of course the material things aren’t what’s really important. It’s the memories they trigger. I can pick almost anything out of that box and magically go back to that moment in time. The invitation takes me to the metro ride home from my sweet sixteen dinner. In the middle of our impromptu boy band sing along, a little girl on the train asked us why we all so dressed up, so we told her about the birthday party. You could just see it in her eyes, imagining that one day she would be able to look forward to such a special celebration. That memory puts a smile on my face. Then there are the silly notes, filled with seemingly pointless topics like boys and teachers, but I know how much they meant to me and my friends. There is a particular purple wristband among the tangled mess this box holds that makes me want to laugh, smile and almost cry. It’s from the time my friends snuck me into a students only pep rally, not long after I’d left public school. I remember begging my mom to take me up to the school, worrying that we wouldn’t make it on time. Wearing my purple t-shirt and hoping that no one would notice how out of place I felt. When I arrived they handed me the wrist band, I threw on my old ID, then we laughed, cheered, and screamed our lungs out. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank them enough for that day.
From the outside it’s an old boot box, but to me it’s so much more. It’s filled with things that trigger the memories that make me who I am. I often feel like the memories I’m making now will speed by too quickly. Thankfully the big pink box is always there to catch a few little reminders of the all good times, just in case I ever need to look back.
I’ve decided to challenge myself. I’m going to write something here everyday this week. I know I have a lot to say and I deserve to take the time to get it all out on “paper”. This might mean diving into one of my many journals or talking about personally uncomfortable subjects. Mostly I want to work on writing for myself and not an audience.
I feel like this is something that would be appropriate for Twitter, but I don’t use the one I have. So… OMG Bravo’s doing The Real Housewives of New Jersey!!!!!!! The end.
I’ve been nominated for an Honest Scrap award/meme. Thanks for thinking of me, Naomi!
The rules are: 1. Pick 7 or so blogs that make you happy. 2. Let them know and post their names on your blog. 3. List at least 10 honest things about yourself.
If we’re Facebook friends, you may notice some of these from my 25 things.
1. I never wear matching socks. They are all the same brand, but different colors and patterns. So I just pick two out of the drawer and go on with my day.
2. I’m cynical about love in real life, but I almost always cry during movies about love.
3. I hate the beach. Give me a pool any day.
4. By societies standards I am “black/African-American”, by my standards I am just me.
5. I want to go on a cross country road trip.
6. I don’t exactly love living in Maryland, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Compared to most people I know from other states/places I have the most diverse group of friends and experiences. I wouldn’t change that for the world.
7. I think when you learn the technicalities or over analyze certain things it takes all the magic away. For instance, I love to take pictures. I know enough to get what I want out of it, but if I were to take classes about composition etc I would probably end up hating it.
8. My closest is organized by color. Denim is not a color, so jeans have their own section in the back.
9. I love concerts. I don’t even have to know the band or artist to enjoy it. Also, as close to the front as you can get is preferable.
10. I pick the color of my elastic ties/o-rings on my braces based on what will make my teeth look whitest. Right now they are light blue.
Unfortunately I haven’t been reading many blogs lately and the ones that I do read have already been nominated. If you’re reading this and haven’t been nominated feel free to participate. Let me know when you’ve done the meme. I promise to stop by and leave a comment if you do.
When you’re younger you watch movies about growing up, the beginnings and ends of friendships, moving on. Plots so relevant you know that one day those characters’ stories will become your own. The only thing is, you never know when those moments will be a part of your life until you get there.
I’m think I’m there now.
I’m watching friendships dissolve because of boys, but really because there wasn’t much of a friendship to begin with. It’s amazing that you can spend years considering someone a friend, and then one day you just realize it was all a charade. Relationship of convenience, mutual friends, common interests but no true knowledge of the other person at all. Personalities clash, yet you still hang on to what could have been, what should have been. Learning to let go, drifting apart. Burning bridges, but building stronger ones with the people who matter.
More people than I can count are trying to make decisions about a future they are afraid of. Live at home? Out of state? Scholarships? Tuition? Questions that all need answers before most of them even have a foot in the door of adulthood. I didn’t apply to college. I’ve edited countless college essays, but have yet to write one of my own. There are many layers to the true reason why I didn’t, couldn’t. Honestly, I haven’t completed enough school to even consider sending an application. Seventeen years old and I have 13 credits to complete before I can receive a diploma. That’s almost two years worth of work. I’m mad at my life and myself. I lie to people and tell them that I’ll go to community college in the fall, and then transfer to the four-year school in town. It’s easier that way, fewer questions to answer. The truth is, I wish I could fast forward. I don’t want to make big decisions. I want to be older. I want to get through this.
My best friend’s parents are finalizing their divorce next month. Her mom is working two jobs to keep their house, because her father won’t contribute to the family. He just left them. Two amazing daughters, a dedicated wife, this is not the American dream they had when they moved here twelve years ago. She deserves more, and there isn’t much I can do to help.
My parents have been married for twenty-eight years, most of which have been spent in a constant state of “getting through the situation”. They are just now realizing that maybe all of this hasn’t been positive. I’ve known for years. I can’t tell them what my dream family would be like or what I think should happen next, but I know I don’t want to be a part of this family if it remains this way. I say things like, “I don’t want to leave you behind, but I will if you don’t try to fix this.” I don’t want to leave, but sometimes it feels like staying will only do me harm.
I don’t know if this clarity is something unique to the true end of childhood or just the natural way of life’s little cross roads. I just hope that like in the movies things work out for the best, even if it’s not what I expect.