New and Old

Here is where the new and the old collide. Here is where there is only the unknown, and the possibility of a shift. Here, on this treacherous crevice of choices, I hesitate and wonder if I have the courage to jump off the edge or if I will simply fall backwards and trust the solidity of solid ground.

Balance

Hello, all!

I was planning on writing a blog post about feminism today, but that is temporarily delayed because other things came to mind today.

Do you remember my New Year's resolutions?

Well, if you don't, one of them was to find balance in my life. I'm learning that this is REALLY DIFFICULT. I mean, seriously! This week more than ever, I'm realizing how badly I need to find balance and how hard it is to find it. I am a teeter totter, never quite equal, always leaning to one side or the other. Or scales. I don't know, choose a metaphor. Balance beam, teetering gymnast. Possibilities are endless but what it all boils down to is that I am currently incapable of keeping my life in any sort of equilibrium.

This week, it feels like I'm being pulled in all directions. I'm trying to sort out my suddenly very complicated and backwards social life, apply to Important College-y Things, work hard on school stuff, starting track, blogging, trying to figure out plans for this weekend, trying to figure out what to do for my friend in the hospital and when I can visit, and attempting to have enough time to sleep, eat, and talk to my family. EVERYTHING is being thrown at me at once, and while most of it isn't bad, I don't know how to handle all of it at once.

How am I supposed to pick priorities? I mean, obviously, some things are more important than others, but some things I want to do more than I want to do others. What should be most important, the needs or the wants? The needs, traditionally, but where does one find value in life? In doing what MUST be done or by doing what you WANT to do?

I mean, I know the "right" answer to that. Needs, obviously. Basics. But nothing in life is really basic (other than food/water/shelter, but let's be honest here, those are not overwhelming me right now). Basics are not a problem for me. Sleep is a basic, too, but that doesn't end up being a priority. I can function on five hours of sleep, but I'd rather not. So sleep is sacrificed. School is a Need, because education is important and school matters enough to my idea of success that I can't allow myself NOT to do it. But the homework is time-consuming, and there's that one class (math) where I struggle endlessly, and it feels fruitless. I'm not deriving (ha, punny!) any pleasure from doing the work that I don't fully understand, despite paying attention and taking notes. The homework feels endless and it's frustrating. Is that a priority? Work harder, until I understand? (Well, that's what I'm trying to do, anyway.)

I consider family and friends to be important. I mean, I like having dinner with my mom (and my brother when he's around/if he comes upstairs), and talking a bit. But lately I feel like I'm home far too often, and never see my friends. My social life is in a state of flux as I try to figure out what's going on with whom and where my relationships with different friends are at right now. And now time is eaten up by track and I find myself exhausted and sore, confined to a set schedule, the same old thing, monotonously repeated every day. Wake up, finish homework (I'm a night person but I focus best in daylight. I make no sense.), go to school, go to track, come home. There's no room for adventure when time is cut into slices that must occur in perfect order.

The thing about balance is that it's orderly and I am typically a mess. I'm disorganized and forgetful, a procrastinator (sometimes to the extreme). I'm terrible at prioritizing and choosing Important Things over my own interests (I'd much rather learn something I want to learn than work on something I don't want to do). Maybe I cling to what was too much, unable to move on or separate what's happening now to what I'm used to. Am I resistant to change? That's a different question entirely, but the point is that I am finding it incredibly difficult to balance my life as is and my life as I want it to be. There's no way to do everything I want or to be the best at everything, but at the moment, I'm not even sure where to start. I have ideas, sure, and I'm working on it.

Balance is elusive and difficult, something I think that not many people are good at. That's why it's one of my resolutions or goals or whatever they are for this year-- I want to change that in myself. My fear is that it will be impossible to change though.

So I'll start with this, the acknowledgment that balance can only ever be temporarily. Things shift and change and the balance is thrown off; I can only move in the opposite direction and see if I can get it just right.

A demain!
-Aly

Happy I'm-Single-On-Valentine's Day

Hello, all!

Happy Valentine's Day, for those of you that find such holidays important. I like it for the chocolate, and all the lovey-dovey stuff is cute, if sometimes excessive. Oh well.

Valentine’s Day is a day where we honor love. The thing is, we sometimes forget that love isn’t just the romantic kind of love. It’s the love you have for your best friends, for your family… and we lose that sometimes.

So, yeah. I’m single on Valentine’s Day, but that doesn’t mean that I’m without love. I have friends and family that care about me, people that I really don’t know what I would do without. There are people that have given me valentines today, even though I didn’t expect it and they did it as friends. They get it. They see that Valentine’s Day is just a day of love. And although the argument could be made that Valentine’s day is a purely corporate holiday that manipulates people into spending money on worthless things (I definitely agree with your point, I mean… all the hearts have been all over the place since after Christmas…), but I like it. (I especially like the abundance of chocolate.)

I don’t really care if I’m single on Valentine’s Day. I’ve all of my life being single (except of that month-and-some and those silly “relationships” when I was really young), and I don’t wish for a Valentine. I’m okay with spending today with friends (even if that means that we complain a bit about the single-on-Valentine’s thing) because there are much bigger things to worry about than whether or not I’m “in love” or whatever. I’m not rushed to fall in love. But I like the sentiment of Valentine’s day, at least in the understanding of an appreciate for love.

Maybe it’s just because I’m a romantic. I think love is beautiful, but at the same time… I think all kinds and forms of love are beautiful (though not the creepy-stalker/Edward Cullen kind).

My main complaint with this day is that we have a tendency to categorize it as only a thing for couples. So, if you’re single on Valentine’s Day, well… me too. And plenty of other people are in the same boat. Tell the people you love that you love them (you should do that most days anyway), and enjoy the one day of the year dedicated to a beautiful emotion.

And finally, because it’s Valentine’s Day… a list! Ten people I love (without names, because I don't want anybody to be offended if they're not on the list. It doesn't mean I don't love you!). (Because I’m sappy.)

1. (La Bande) Vous etiez mes mellieurs amis quand j’etais en France. Je pense souvent a vous, de nos jours passee sous le soliel a midi, a Ville Aurelienne, en centre-ville et dans les cours. Je pense de nos blagues, les chansons (et les danses!), tous mes memoires de vous. Je reflechis sur mon temps en France et je realise, si je n’avais pas les amis comme vous, je n’aurais jamais survivrais. Sans vous, je suis deconnecte sur MSN et je parle jamais en francais. Vous me manquez. <3

2. You would probably be surprised if you knew you were on this list. The good news is that you rarely read my blog. I think you’re an incredibly interesting person, and I’m very lucky to know you (even if I don’t always understand you). I’m glad that you trust me, because though I don’t talk to you often on a regular basis, I still consider you one of my best friends. I try to remind you every now and again that I care about you (not in a romantic way), but I think you forget. Try to remember that I’m here for you, and that I am a friend, even if I’m sometimes distant.

3. I’ve only truly become close to you this year, and I realize how unfortunate that is. I love hanging out with you and going on random adventures (even if they don’t always end well), and I’m glad that we’ve been making a point to hang out more. I’m glad that I can call you friend, and that you understand my weird obsessions and listen to my unnecessarily long rants. Your nearly-constant Skype presence always seems to ensure I’ll have somebody to talk to. Also, thanks for the poem. You’re the best.

4. I have no idea when you became one of my best friends. I really have no clue. It’s like you just appeared in my life and BOOM! We were friends. It’s only been this year that we’ve gotten fairly close and you’ve shared some of your secrets with me. I worry about you, probably unnecessarily (you know how to take care of yourself), but I can’t help it. It’s hard to see that you’re struggling, but I hope you realize that you have somebody around that cares.

5. Sometimes I think I don’t get you at all anymore. You’ve fallen almost completely out of my life, except for those brief moments where we fall back into old habits. We’ve long since broken those habits, but it’s nice to pretend for a moment that I tell you everything and our conversation will never end. And even though I’m sometimes mean to you for no apparent reason, I hope you realize that I do miss having you around. We really need to follow through on the plans we keep trying and failing to make, because I haven’t talked to you in far too long.

6. I know you only hear from me periodically, but I promise it’s nothing planned. I just forget. I get carried away by the internet and life and everything that is going on here. You live so far away that it’s almost too easy to forget about you, to get caught up in HERE rather than ask about your life. I know I’m going to regret it, not saying enough as often as I should, but I hope you know that despite my silence, I’m incredibly grateful for everything you’ve done for me over the years and that I love you.

7. Sometimes I think that I’ve lost you completely. I mean, that’s not entirely a bad thing—being independent of others is good, right?—but I do miss having you around CONSTANTLY. It’s kind of strange to be here and you NOT being around. I keep expecting that you will just be there at any moment and always have the answer to whatever it is that’s on my mind. And although we’ve lost some of our closeness, I know that it is impossible for me to lose you. You’ll always understand me incredibly well, even if you don’t always understand me best.

8. I know what you think of me. I know what you expect from me and who you think I am, but I don’t always agree. I can’t be who you want me to be, and I don’t expect you to fulfill a role that you can’t fulfill, either. That wouldn’t be fair. The thing is, despite our frequent disagreements on far too many topics, I still love you. I’m incredibly thankful for all the things you’ve done for me and I hope that you remember that when we’re arguing about something pointless again. You’ve influenced my life more than I want you to believe.

9. This list wouldn’t be complete without you on it. I mean, seriously. I may not talk to you as often as I like (that seems to be the case with a lot of people), but you know very well that leaving you off this list would be ignoring one of the people I care about most. Our conversations are the best, if less frequent than they used to be. I listen to what you have to say and I value your advice. You may be family, but you’re a friend, too. I’m glad I can trust you with as much as I do, and only wish that I lived closer to you so I could see you more often. There are so many adventures we should have, and I hope that we have a chance to have those adventures sometime. In the meantime, I’m just thankful that you care so much about me, too.

10. You’ve felt the full force of my sappy/rambly-ness before and seriously... I could probably top my own record. I love our random trips to Starbucks and the entirely ridiculous conversations we have. I think you’re brilliant, if insane (no offense, but you know it’s true). I never see you in the hallways, and our habitual hangouts have almost entirely died out. I know that you were probably annoyed about Valentine’s Day and being single (again), but once again, we prove that our lives are freakishly parallel. Thanks for listening and understanding my psycho-babble.

Well, as I finished THAT list, I realized that I could go on basically forever. I love so many people, and I realize that many of those could go for several people. Choose whichever one you want for yourself, and pretend I’m writing it to you. It’s possible that I am.

Anyway, to all the people I love (on this list or otherwise), thank you so much for everything. You’re amazing and I love you. Also, we should hang out/catch up/have adventures/make plans/send emails/etc. soon!

:)

A demain!

-Aly

P.S. A SONG. Which kind of inspired this. Well, this and John's vlogbrothers video (yes. I do spend too much time on youtube.)

The Math Class Narrative

I think there's something about this room.

I come in here smiling, usually having just laughed about something or other-- the subject is unimportant in the scheme of things-- and I take a deep breath, trying to hold on to that lightheartedness.

I sit down, waiting for the third bell to ring (the first announced the end of one period, the second announced 1 minute left to get to class, the final began class). I fidget a bit, nervous, but then grow still as the clock ticks closer and closer to my hour of impending doom.

The bell rings, echoing down the hallways and drowning out the raised voices of the students still dawdling outside the door.

I pull out my binder, catching my fingers in the metal ring to tug it from the overly crowded confines of my backpack. The plastic covering scratches as it slides across my desk and I reach into the pocket of my bag, fingers searching for the cool plastic of cheap pencils, a carefully cultivated collection of unextraordinary plastic, easily forgotten by other students until I claimed them as my own ad dropped them into this pocket.

My body is still awkwardly stretched into the aisle as my teacher finally enters, snapping the door shut behind him and locking us into this cinder block room. It's supposed to be a safety measure-- you can't come in here unless you're supposed to be here-- but, for the most part, that is entirely ignored. People wander in and out all the time, whether from tardiness, reluctance to be here, or the always-inconvenient call of nature. But me, I stay here. Exactly as I am, every day.

The teacher begins talking and I open my binder and reach for my agenda. The homework from yesterday has already been scratched out and a partially-filled page holds the promise of homework for tonight, too. I scribble the pages in, labeling it neatly with the class as though the contrasting handwriting styles balance out into the ideally-imperfect scrawl.

I close the agenda again, dropping it into my backpack to be forgotten until the next class. There is a rustling around the room as a few others begin to take out their materials for the class. Overly-stuffed binder, agenda, and pencil if you care enough, and a calculator if you retain hope of using it in this particular class, where archaic methods of actual "learning" defy the use of technology. It's a burden to think, of course; few of us know how to function without the comforting bulk of the calculator on our desk. I am one such person, but I have long since given up on the endlessly useful technology.

The teacher launches into class and I settle back in my seat, the connected desk allowing me to slouch, hoping that the teacher will not call on me for answers as he goes over the homework. His awful habit of making us think is largely centered on the front row and I am stationed here, my wish to be able to see overcoming my automatic tendency to settle into the back of the room where I can go unnoticed. He doesn't though, and I am temporarily saved. Part of me is annoyed, though. I had actually done the homework this time, but my crumpled sheet of paper is marked by the tiny question marks that indicate my confusion and the tell-tale remnants of wrong answers that I had erased. Of course he wouldn't check it today, the day I actually cared enough to struggle through the twenty problems we had for homework. I sigh and push the homework into the binder, where it will be forgotten until the next test and my confusion will be tripled by time and forgetfulness.

Homework questions are now irrelevant as class begins. I listen and copy down the notes dutifully, already feeling the twinges of confusion. Some (very) small part of me is interested in learning this, but for the most part, the part of me that is uncomfortable and unsure of this new topic is already winning the battle in my mind. Again.

During a moment given to work on the practice problems written on the board that I am still hopeless to understand, I turn to the friend that sits next to me, asking in a whisper if she understands what is going on. She is talking to herself quietly as she writes out numbers quickly and then smiles softly, proud of her work, before moving to the next question.

I sigh, my eyes flicking to the clock, counting seconds, and the inattentive murmurings of my classmates becomes louder. The teacher gives up his hopeless quest to shove inexpliquably complicated mathematical concepts into our heads and the period of math dissolves into a brief respite of social life when we should be working on the twenty-something homework problems for tonight.

At last, the teacher announces that he has our tests from two weeks ago. He calls our name and we shuffle forward to claim our own piece of failure.

My body freezes and I cross my fingers, wishing for an A. My name is called and my pounding heart is sufficiently masked by the din of the class. My fingers are clammy, trembling as I reach forward to take my last test from my teacher. I return to my seat with the paper facedown, all too aware of the expectant looks of my three friends that share my corner of the room. I sit, for a moment closing my eyes as I will for the grade to be decent.

I open my eyes and flip over the paper. An F, again.

I bite my lip, holding back the sound of despair by a hair and thinking about how much of a failure I am.

As I tuck the test into my artfully disorganized bakpack to be forgotten, I hope that my halfhearted ignorance of my failure will allow me to perform better the next time around.

But all I can think about is that this room is a trap, and I am trapped here, composing drawn-out odes to the class that always makes me cringe.

Return to Middle School

Hello!

So, this morning, a group of seniors from the two local high schools headed over to a middle school in the area to talk to the eighth graders about the "high school experience" and such.

And can I just say... four years is quite a long time. Four years since I sat in one of those rooms hearing very similar stuff to the things I said today. So much has changed since then, and all of it for the better.

I'm not sure about you, but my middle school experience was NOT the most pleasant. My eighth grade year sucked, mostly due to separation from my then-best-friends. High school, though, has been amazing. I mean, not like AMAZING, but it's been pretty dang good so far as I'm concerned. There have been bad parts and mistakes and the like, but seriously... nothing that made the entire experience awful.

Seeing my old middle school teachers reminds me how quickly time passes, and how quickly you can forget people. They all seemed to remember me, which surprised me. How memorable can each class of students be to these teachers? After so many years of teaching, how is it that some students-- or potentially all?-- can stay in their memories?

If they don't remember everybody, then I feel honored. I was significant enough to them to be remembered years after I have left the confines of their classrooms, and even though it's only middle school, that feels kind of important. It does to me now, anyway, thinking about how much different I am now than I was back then. I'm sure it's a curious sensation for the teachers to see the tiny little tweens they knew change suddenly into teenagers, ones that are adults so far as most places are concerned. How bizarre it must be for them to look at us, these vaguely familiar faces of years past and partially forgotten, blurred together into maybe decades of teaching. How strange it must be to look into the faces that hold echoes of children you knew once and realize you no longer know them.

What runs through their minds then?

Who is this person? This child no longer? What do they DO? What's different? Are they the same deep down?

Back then, I thought that everything I did MATTERED. The grades I got all through middle school MEANT something to me, and I measured myself against my academic success. I was terrible at sports (I tried out for the track team once... I ran a personal best at the time, 10 minute mile or something terrible), and... well, I was painfully socially awkward. I thought it was important that I had won the school spelling bee (it was a joke, but still, I thought it mattered), and that I was in the first violin section in the orchestra.

Who am I now, in comparison to that?

I mean, now I know that nothing I did back then really mattered *that* much, because once you leave middle school, nobody cares about how stellar of a student you were in middle school. I don't measure myself by grades now. I do, to an extent, but I know better-- that's not all there is to me. I'm decent at sports, and I love cross-country (I used to hate running, if you couldn't tell-- and my PR is quite a bit faster than 10!). I have awesome friends, and I seem to be finding more friends everywhere these days. And orchestra... well, I gave up on that one a long time ago, but I am not musically inclined. It doesn't bother me, though.

It's forcing me to think, though. Does that middle school me exist somewhere, still?
(I mean, other than preserved in the pages of myspace.)

Am I still the horribly awkward girl that sat at the front of classrooms, always ready to raise my hand when comfortable, or the girl that shrunk to the back of the class to be forgotten when confused? Am I still the girl that was a burden to her friends, exiled from lunch tables overandoverandover again for silly reasons that I didn't even understand then? Still a girl worth insulting? The one picked last for teams, last for projects, shoved into the corner when better options abound?

Because honestly... I don't think so. I hope not, anyway. Parts of that girl still exist-- I mean, I'm still quite awkward, but at this point, it's no longer the "awkward stage" of not knowing who I was, who I wanted to be, and what everybody expected of me.

And I am very glad not to be that girl anymore.

At the same time, I'm quite fascinated by who I was then. That's why I haven't deleted the myspace that I probably should delete-- it holds her, the Aly of what feels like so long ago. The one that saw the world in black and white; the innocent girl that believed that everybody was kind and that even the people that treated her poorly were still good; the one that believed in absurd crushes and impossibilities. The one that believed in so much without question. That is the me I want to remember from back then.

Years from now, what will I want to remember from NOW? Will I laugh at myself for thinking I understood myself? Do I even understand myself now?

That's it I guess. Middle school was awful, High school's been pretty great... but it's ending and I'm ridiculously excited to move on.

Happy February 1st!
-Aly

forgiveness

I'm a forgiving person,
I will eventually forgive

For once you'll have to earn it

My friend says the Bible says to forgive
because Jesus forgave;
I do not care what the Bible says,

I can't keep giving away forgiveness
like it's candy
And today is Halloween
Just to anybody

I am always willing to forgive

But I hate when
People turn around
And seem to throw it in my face
But doesn't everybody do that?
I would hope so,
The problem, though, is that
Sometimes, when you forgive

People throw it in your face
Like cups of boiling water

And I find myself crumbling
My spirits sinking
And I end up hurt
Foolish enough to think that
Everybody deserves
An unconditional chance

But sometimes,

In some cases,
Forgiving the same person

For similar things

And they keep breaking my trust

Is an impossibility if I am to stay sane

My friend points out
Wouldn't I like the same?

To be forgiven
And loved unconditionally?

In this case, no

Even though, for most people
I am willing to forgive
And forgive
And forgive

I will do it a hundred million times over

Until it reaches the point
Where they no longer make an effort
To apologize or to show me
That my forgiveness
Means something
I can't...
handle that
And maybe that makes me completely selfish.
Even then, my friend says,

If you did something stupid,
wouldn't you want to be forgiven?

and loved still?

Yes, I say,
But usually I make an effort
To apologize

if i screw up massively
And want to be forgiven
Then I own up to it

I never just expect people to forgive me

And when people DO forgive me,
I still make an effort
To show them that I AM sorry
and that I do deserve to be forgiven.

Time will only tell
If I can forgive this time

I'll try to be patient,
But I'm not one for waiting

I want decisive answers
And I want honesty,
Even if it's not what I want to hear.

I may be as stubborn as a mule
But I know what I want
And what is right
What should and is supposed to happen.
And so, I wait.
I'll forgive you, one day,
Though it may not be that soon.

******

The text of this poem was taken from a conversation between me and a good friend; I turned it into a poem to protect their identity.

And if you know what this is about, kudos for that & thanks.

Anyway, later!
-Aly

Imagining Stories

HELLO!

I didn't intend to blog today, but I felt weird *not* blogging, so here I am again.

I swear that it must be much later on in the week. Thursday at best. My eyelids are sliding down and so am I, already partially asleep on the awkward corner of my bed that serves as my "homework area". What utter nonsense; I'm not accomplishing much because I'm so tired. I won't move, either. My legs protest. My mind protests, too.

It's nearing that time of year when I want to sit down in the woods with a notebook and write. A small breeze encircling me in my solitude as I engross myself in whatever story I happen to be composing, a world of paper and imaginary lines.

As I run through workouts (of course we had another one today), I muse about the world around me. My running buddies and my teammates; I wonder what goes through their minds? As I drive down the road exactly at the speed limit, what do the people in the cars around me think? I like to compose their stories and their thoughts in my head. Maybe they're anxious to be home, or maybe they're fleeing a place where they find themselves drained of energy. Either way, I speed up. Imagining people complexly.

I've been storing up a file of inspirational quotes and pictures, tidbits of randomness. I guess I've been collecting such things for a while, pictures on my computer, words in my falling-apart Moleskine (I need a new one, I carried mine with me every day for seven months and it is rather sad now). My newest portfolio, if you will, exists in OneNote. I keep looking for more to add, but I suppose, as with everything, you cannot look for specific types of things. For it to be truly inspiring, it should just... come to you. Sneak up on you from the middle of nowhere, tackling you to the ground. Or just whispering, "hey, you!" before floating away as you grasp at clouds.

Is it November yet? I want to write a novel.

A demain!
-Aly

Lunchables

HELLO!

I tried to post via text message, but that failed epically. :(

Today was kind of bleh. Nothing extraordinary, as always. I didn't get my school's nomination for that scholarship-- it went to exactly who I thought it would. That's okay, though, I'll self-nominate which is lame... and I'm very proud of my friends who DID get the nominations.

The race today was better than I expected. I ran it like I would a tempo run (as did most of the team) but still managed to run faster than the previous race at this course. It was nice and relaxed, and for once I wasn't stressed out over the race. If I were to actually race and be that relaxed, I could probably do much better. Strange how that works.

I'm going to take a break from studying for my first AP US History test by writing this post. This seems counter-intuitive, but whatever. I'll be waking up early to study more for APUSH anyway, so I might as well write what I want to.

Something I've been thinking about lately is body image and the way that we each see ourselves. Beyond that, the way in which people we don't know that well perceive us based on our bodies or even the pieces of our personalities exposed during certain moments. We have a tendency to judge others; we don't do a very good job of "imagining them complexly" (as John Green would say).

My question is this: have you ever experienced body liberty? One moment in time where no one could judge you, where you are completely content with your body in both form and function. I would say that very few people actually have that moment, and even fewer can make that feeling last for an extended period of time.

Lately I've been struggling with my perception of what my body should be and what it is. For me, this is a result of my body insecurity following my time in France (oh, that food, again...), and the demands that cross-country places on my body. It's getting to the point again, or perhaps for the first time, where I've had that moment of body liberty and I am happy with my body. It's very comforting to me to reflect on that moment and pull that feeling into my daily life. Impossible, of course, but still a reminder.

The thing is that other people do not seem to realize how important this is to me. The throwaway comments of others, degrading their own bodies or insulting others bodies, frustrate me. I want to ask them about why they think so poorly of their own bodies (or others). And then, beyond that, when they make comments about people that they don't know very well, comments that hurt unintentionally... do you not realize that you aren't imaging them complexly?

The way you view somebody is related to their appearance and their personality. If you only see or understand facets of either part of a person, then do not judge. Think of your own body and your own flaws, the small bits of yourself that you reveal at certain points. Think of your own insecurity about your body and your soul; pause a minute and think of body liberty and the personality that is greater than what you initially see.

...That wasn't a very well put-together thought. Uhm. I hope you got my point; I was kind of pulling in two things that have been bothering me lately. One of those issues will be taken care of soon, which will be fun.

The person I appreciate today is Sean, for the non-nominee hug in the parking lot, despite his initial reluctance. xD

A demain!
-Aly

Failed Crepes

HELLO!

I don't know what it is about cooking French cuisine that always has me stumped. It's crepes more than anything, but the inability to make crepes seems to only occur in the States. I am determined though, and one of these days I'll be successful. >.<

Today was less mind-numbing as yesterday, though once again I have too much to do. I'm working on various tasks at once, if that counts for anything. I'm surrounded by a field of paper, if textbooks, notebooks, binders, books, and my French pencil case all count as paper, the field being the dining room table or my bedroom floor. (Two very different places, however both seem to be disaster zones of Important Things.)

Tomorrow we're supposed to find out about that one scholarship. And then there's a cross-country race that afternoon, at a course that I'm not overly fond of. I'll survive, though I make no promises about my mental health after that point.

There are some topics I have yet to blog about that I want to tackle, but they don't really fit into the details of my life. I don't have time right now to sit down and organize my thoughts on the matter. Some of those are France-related, and others aren't.

I've got to go now; the field of paper is pushing back into my mind.

OH!
The person I appreciate the most today is Caroline. She's one of my freshman buddies, and is completely awesome. She had this great quote today as we were running after the French Club meeting (she and Molly are joining all the language clubs, and since today was a French Club meeting that lasted quite a while and involved food, we were quite stuffed when we got to practice 30 minutes late...), she said "I'm feelin' the craps! ... Crepes!". I died laughing :)

A demain!
-Aly

The Samaritan

HELLO!

I didn't intend to blog again today, but of course, sometimes you have to just go with it.

This afternoon after cross-country practice, Molly, Margaret, Katherine, and I dashed off to Margaret's house to meet up with their youth pastor and John (who is in our grade, though I'm not particularly close to him), and Will ended up going as well.

We got to Samaritan Ministries later than planned, but soon, we were working, serving food to the men that would come in. We would cheerfully say "hi!" as they came in, pausing momentarily in our tasks to flash smiles.

After all the work was done, we retreated to the common room, where some played cards while others talked or watched a football game on TV. Margaret was speaking in Spanish to a man that works as a construction worker; I couldn't understand every detail of their conversation, but I understood enough that I knew what was going on. It must be comforting for him to have the opportunity to speak to somebody in such an environment, and talk about his life and topics beyond this town.

Anyway, at 10, there was a devotion. Usually I shy away from discussing religion on this blog, but I am going to address it now, because that devotion was the best I have ever seen. It was inspiring in a way I had never seen, and being in that room, filled with these people, attention centered on this one man, who is the director of the Samaritan, was really interesting. I couldn't help but realize how BADLY some people need to have a God in their lives. They need the guidance and comfort of somebody watching over them, the idea of the good that is coming in their lives. Pulling through a dark time defines these people, and as they continue to struggle, the message of a god that is looking out for them is necessary.

Tonight, two men were saved at the Samaritan. One man had been drunk, and was contemplating suicide. Steve talked to him, and told him to stay here for the night. Later that night, another man was choking; the man from earlier in the day performed the Heimlich. The irony-- the one that had been saved, continuing on to save another man. They spoke of the purpose in each of their lives, guided by God. A reason to live. Having faith and religion gives them that reason, no matter what the difficulties in their lives.

I respect that, and it is interesting to see the ways that religion impacts people's lives. Though I am not religious, and have moved beyond the point where I can truly understand it, I find this reminder of the "truly faithful" to be a good reminder of the good that is the origin of some religious ideals.

Anyhow, I just wanted to share that. I'm glad I had the opportunity to see that, and though my personal beliefs will not likely change because of it, I did appreciate seeing the good in Christianity again. The reason religion exists is because people need God. Not everybody does, and the gods may come in different forms, but in order for some people to find purpose in their life, they need to have this idea of god.

That is all. Time to finish packing! WILMINGTON SOON! :D
Until Monday! (seriously this time)
-Aly

HUMMUS!

SALUT!

I was going to write in French but then I realized that I have something besides the daily workings of my life to discuss, so I will postpone le français for another day.

(Side note: did you realize how much of my last post RHYMED?! Completely unintentional. My brain just works like that sometimes.)

Today, Molly and I were discussing bisous, as in the French air-kisses. The premise of the conversation was the question about whether or not it would be possible for bisous to be introduced to American society, similar to how I introduced our affinity for hugs to my circle of French friends.

We both have been to Europe and experienced that style of greeting, and neither of us mind it very much. I would even go so far as to say that we like it, and I kind of miss that as part of my daily interaction with friends. Bisous add a different level to friendship, even though they are used so casually in countries like France. ALMOST casually, but not quite. Like how we give out hugs so easily, but it expresses more than just waving. It adds a physical-but-not-sexual level to the relationship that cannot really be expressed in another way. What if Americans accepted bisous as another level of interaction with friends? Would it work?

This brings us to sociology, which is basically the study of culture, and that means its impact on our lives and developement. Sociology, and our culture, affects every aspect of our lives, even if we don't notice it. Our social development and status are based on sociology. The immediate perceptions and definition of our very SELF is rooted in sociology, and the expectations that our society places upon us as individuals, as members of a greater group.

In European society, bisous are accepted and welcomed. It has become part of the definition of who they are. Molly and I agreed, that we didn't think that bisous could be accepted within American society, because the interaction is not a societal norm. Changing such a thing would be next to impossible, as anybody experiencing that kind of interaction for the first time would be incredibly confused about the reason.

That got me thinking about how different the culture of a particular area forces you to act in a certain way. I do miss the way I had to act in France, but only in the sense that I feel like I'm losing that feeling of it being "normal", when here, it is extraordinarily strange. It makes me think back to freshman year (or was it earlier? later?) when some teacher (I think it was my seminar World History teacher, who is a legend) brought up the idea about how much DIFFERENT your life would be if you were born in a different time, or a different place. What would you be like? What would the social norms be? What would you wish for in your time or place, or what would you consider to be ridiculous?

Just thinking.
-Aly

P.S. I'm such a humanities nerd.

Popsicles and Ice Cream

Hello again!

See what I said about blogging every day? I’m making this happen.

So, today was BUSY. Not that every day isn’t, but today was borderline hectic.

We had a long run this morning. My run was strangely satisfying. I wore my NEW SHOES which are the same as Molly’s shoes, which was of course, completely unintentional. It was sunny again, thus really humid, after all the rain we’ve had lately. My shoes are ALREADY dirty, but hopefully they won’t smell as bad as my spikes do anytime soon.

(For you non-cross-country-runners, spikes are the racing shoes we wear… and they have a very pungent odor. I refuse to take mine out of the box, and they stay in a corner of the basement where the stench can’t hurt the quality of life…)

Our coach brought Popsicles for us for after the run (YAY! TREATS!), and since there were so many of them, Molly and I got three each. We were laughing, being like “oh, Fattie Club is BACK IN SESSION!” and “I wonder if we can make this a thing?”, so Coach Cromwell took us off to the side for a Lecture. It wasn’t so much of a Lecture as it was an Expression of Worry About Our Mental Health, which made it rather humorous. But, in a way, it was complimentary and I think both Molly and I realized how awkward and difficult it must be for him to confront “girly” problems (even if they are perceived as problems, but aren’t).

Though it is funny to note his reaction to us senior girls with our water-guns at yesterday’s practice and then what he said to Molly and I today. We’re just enigmas. :)

Other than that, I spent today shopping for books with my mother, which ended in me getting a couple books from the Free Shelf (ONE IS A PLAY IN FRENCH!) and lots of Shakespeare. She finally showed me the houses she likes, one of which we will hopefully buy… as soon as our house sells.

After all that, I went to Via’s house (with Molly) to help her pack for college. That was fun, but the reasoning is sad. It SUCKS to say goodbye, and she’s not ready to leave. For that matter, I’m not ready for any of my “ex-senior” friends to be gone. I know I’ll keep in touch somehow and this won’t be goodbye forever (at least, I SINCERELY hope not!), but still, the whole people-leaving thing is just not fun as leaving yourself.

During all that, we stopped by Cold Stone. Hence, ice cream. Delicious, FattieClub worthy, ice cream. YAYYY SUMMER! (I’m holding on to Summertime for dear life, though I could do with some nice fall-like temperatures…)

A demain! ;)

-Aly

NaBloPoMo

Hello, everybody!

So, I’ve been back from France for a month-and-several-days, and time is still passing far too quickly. I’ve got less than a week until school starts again, and to be honest, I’m not at ALL ready. I still haven’t come to terms with the fact that this is my last year of high school, though I’ve been worrying excessively about colleges since about April.

In other news, I’ve been REALLY busy lately, which is why I haven’t yet finished the last two blog posts from France. Sorry about that. Part of the reason is that finishing those posts feels like saying goodbye to that time in my life. I’m still holding on to the memories and the people I met there, my friends and “dreamland”.

Since I’m not that great at blogging or keeping up with this blog, I’ve decided that I’m dedicating this month to be my National Blog Posting Month, which is rather like NaNoWriMo, except it’s basically any time you like. I’ll be blogging daily until September 19th, even if it’s a small post. During this time, expect the last couple blog posts about France, and a few other big posts with excessive pictures. However, it’ll all depend on my schedule—cross-country season is nearly here for good (not just pre-season), and I’ll be busy with college applications, classes, and volunteering soon enough. With a bit MORE luck, I’ll be able to keep up with my French by tutoring others in French, since they cut the AP French program. Basically, if you know anybody that wants to learn French or is struggling with French, let me know, and I’ll see if I can help! ;)

(In reference to the “volunteering” thing—I’m applying to volunteer at the public library! I turned in the application yesterday, before settling in for an hour and some of working on school stuff. I love libraries :D)

Last night was Orientation (at least I didn’t have to go to REAL orientation in the silly clothes I wore to the “What Not To Wear skit” for Freshman orientation in the morning. The Freshman are probably embarrassed about the seniors xD), so I got to “meet” my teachers, though I more-or-less know them all. I’m really excited for my English class, because I have it with Molly, Matt, and Duncan… though I feel sorry for my teacher.

My dual enrollment classes begin Monday. With luck, I’ll be able to change my study hall to be a study hall with French… so that I can speak in French for an hour of my day!

In a strange way, I’m excited for this year. I just know it’ll be hard and crazy, though I think I can handle it. Don’t hold me to that one, though, because I’m probably going to spaz out in a few weeks!

-Aly

Kick Ass Frenchies

JP, Lisa, Nolwenn, me, and Cindy before Kick Ass :D
(Picture credit: Jean Paul, except I think Charlotte took this one.)

Hello again!

I know, you probably feel like you're hearing from me a lot lately. This is due to the fact that I've decided I really need to use my time better, and I've just kind of needed to write on here lately. I think this will be my goal for the next 2 months, so you should be hearing a lot more from me! (I've actually got plans for some things for this blog; check for updates and interesting things! :D)
I have FIVE more postcards. I sent 4, then 10 last week, and today another 11. I lie, it's technically two, since I owe three of you a postcard! Though I may cave in and buy more, if I get more people that want them. So, uhh, seriously, ASK IF YOU WANT A POSTCARD! I would love to send one! Also, I love postcards. Even with pears on them-- thank you, Katherine! (She is awesome! Go check out her blog full of pretty things, happy thoughts, and Grand Schemes :D)

I've been hanging out with my friends lately! They have completely pulled through for me on things we've mentioned doing, such as going to Nice and having sleepovers and such.

I spent Saturday hanging out in Centre-ville with Nolwenn, Lisa, Charlotte H., and Jean-Paul. We went to lunch (I ate another American, you guys. I admit, I really just wanted to say I've eaten more Americans. Such a cannibal...!), took pictures, wandered around, and finally joined Cindy at the Cinemas to see Kick-Ass. I thought it was awesome, but I enjoy such nerds-conquering-the-world-I-mean-being-Nerdfighters type movies. I kept dying of laughter, even though I didn't even understand what exactly they were saying ALL the time. After all that, we had ice cream and hung out more. We managed to convince people walking by we were insane, as well as stalk a marching band in Period Dress (I still don't exactly understand why there were so many people in Old-Fashioned Clothes were wandering around... and all the BOOM!s that weren't fireworks?), and various other fun things. Oh, Frenchies, how much joy you bring me...
[I took pictures! They're on facebook.]

JP, Charlotte H., Lisa, Nolwenn, Cindy

I'm going to Nice with Charlotte B. on Wednesday! We're going to tour the Old part of the town, eating the Best Ice Cream in Nice, and I'm spending the night at her house! (Why, yes, I do have school Thursday. *feels B)

OH! And tomorrow, I've got TWO CLASSES (technically 3, but 2 hours of French except one hour is with the Premier ES1, and 2 hours of "hande." [Handball, they always leave off the -ball.])! After which, me and the Frenchies are going to McDonald's (I think that will be the 10th time), then the Theatre to see Mozart's Flute Enchantee. It will be AWESOME! There's ACROBATS!!!!! (I hope I'm allowed to bring my camera because I definitely am.)

I'll tell you about tomorrow and Wednesday as soon as possible-- hopefully with pictures! But at the moment, I have to run errands and do Important Things, so I'm going to peace out and not include any details about why today is fail, but in a way that I don't really care about because I'm in a great mood. :D

-Aly

Trips to McDonalds/Quick: 9 [this is including during the last vacation, so this is the as-of-today count]

It's the Americans

Hello!

I am perfectly aware that I haven't posted about Carnaval yet. You can't blame me! I want to do it justice, and by doing it justice, I am including so many details that you should be able to FEEL the excitement pouncing on you from France. Though the 717 pictures to choose from certainly don't hurt. So, WHEN I post it, it will be MASSIVELY LONG and probably take you hours to read. But you don't mind, right?!

This is another one of those real-time blog updates! As usual, I'm posting this about the time that I need to rant about my life here.

As a pretext for this, let me explain that the past two weeks have been rough. We didn't have internet here for a chunk of last week, and I'm an internet junkie (and so is Nathalie), so things here were frustrating. Beyond that, I haven't really done anything with any of my friends here for awhile.

Thus begins the rant.

If you don't know, I'm a very huggy person. I'm one of those annoying people that will hug you for longer than you're used to, and I may even attempt to hug you so hard that you can't breathe. My friends at home are used to this, and happen to be the same way. Even better, I'm so close with them that I can literally lean on them whenever I want (or need) to. Although "hug-training" has gone well (largely thanks to the fact that my friend Nolwenn is a similar huggy-person), I still slip into my normal, hug-addict self with the friends I've become closer to. Unfortunately, I sometimes get the always-fun reaction of people being kind of rude about it-- pushing me away, shrugging me off, or just generally spazzing out. It shouldn't upset me, but it does a little. I become embarrassed, I feel silly, and I feel snubbed. It's just not fun.

That brings me to my second point. I never wanted to see 8th grade again, because I had the worst experience with friends in 8th grade (though I came out of it well enough, with some wonderful friends that I love dearly). I've said before that I love the Frenchies, and they DO prove themselves to be awesome, but it's still not quite THERE. It's not quite there to the point that they make plans in front of me and don't include me in them.

I'd like to pretend that it's because they think I don't understand them, but let's be honest... I've been here for 3 months. It's apparently not rude to invite yourself along (whatwhatwhat?) but I AM SO SOCIALLY AWKWARD and I have warning bells in my head telling me that is a bad idea.

Worse, I don't have the guts to say something when I'm not happy. I don't want to offend somebody (maybe it's normal to only hang out with your family? Uhm, all the time?), or maybe they think I'm doing something (ha!), but it wouldn't hurt to ASK, right? I mean, generally, if you want somebody to be there, don't you just ASK THEM ALONG? Because not being invited me along makes me feel like I couldn't matter less. I'm good for laughs (make me say cuss words in French! it's hilarious! *sarcasm*), but I'm starting to feel like I'm just the "school friend" of too many people.

(I'm still trying though! I AM STILL TRYING. I AM NOT GIVING UP. I'm working on making plans for this weekend, and a few of the more-wonderful Frenchies seem to have picked up on my mood-- Nolwenn, my fellow hug-addict, made a subtle point of giving me bajillions of hugs yesterday. I was feeling particularly glum and I REALLY needed some good hugs. Once school was over, I told Camille about the fact that I was tired of spending so much time alone and can we PLEASE PLEASE plan something for as soon as possible-- and now plans are in the works for this weekend. As well as a few other unexpected-by-still-awesome people picking up on my need for social interaction... it'll be okay.)

That wasn't truly a rant. I guess those are both things you should know (besides the fact that sometimes, I miss home so hard that I want to cry; that's not particularly new, either).

You may not know this, but I've never considered myself to be outstandingly patriotic. I'm an optimist, sure (though I guess you couldn't tell sometimes by the tone of these posts...), but I know that we have a LOT of problems to sort out. Big problems, and less important ones, but problems none-the-less, and so many that I hesitate to claim pride in the country I call home, but haven't felt that GREAT about being a citizen of the US. I have loved France so long-- idealized it; the superior education system, the relaxed attitude about a multitude of things, and of course, the language.

Since being here, I'm still as in love with France as ever (and the language). I wasn't right about all these things (in some of my experiences), but yet... France has something going for it. These people (all of them that I have met)... they ALL seem to love their country. I can't really explain it, but their entire attitude (during the Winter Olympics, for football [the soccer kind], the fact that they all know the national anthem by heart...) just tells me that they are so PROUD to be French. It makes me want to be proud of my country.

But, you guys, it's really hard to be proud of your country when you're in a foreign country where you hear a TEACHER insulting your country to your face while your classmates stare at you. It's really hard to smile and laugh it off, when you're thinking that you don't want to be American if it means being all these horrible things, when you feel the eyes on you and these people you want to like you judging you based on the fact that you happen to be from the US, and you're probably one of the few Americans they've met. It really sucks to be American when you realize that yes, some of the things they say are true, and that maybe-just-possibly-they-believe-these-things-are-true-of-YOU.

This isn't to say the French hate us; in fact, they seem to like us well enough (but they loooove Obama in general, as well as American pop culture)... but some of them seem to blame us for everything wrong in the world. And it is really quite awful to be the subject of such a sentiment. I leave History far too often, after learning something I already know, and hearing yet-another insult about my country, feeling worn down and in desperate need of a hug. I laugh it off, and joke about it, but I still feel the sting of the insult.

Is it too much to ask to be proud of my country? Just once, can't we do something that isn't going to bring about world destruction, or isn't supporting something awful? Is it impossible to recognize that we are NOT THE ONLY country to blame for some international problems (such as Climate Change... did you realize that we are the only country in the world that pollutes?! THE ONLY ONE, YOU GUYS. *more sarcasm*), and that there are worthwhile things that come out of the United States? That maybe we aren't all religious-driven, brain-washing bullies with a twisted mind bent on making everybody else just like us?

I want to be proud to be an American. I know we have problems; but we aren't the only ones. I just don't want to be judged on the stereotypes and mistakes of my country. So, yes, Frenchies, I am an American.

Rant over!

In other news, I have to actually participate in school now. We're starting real Physics in Physique, and it is SO MUCH MORE COMPLICATED HERE. I didn't think that it could make less sense than it did before, but somehow they manage with the simplest concepts of Physics (force diagram! how is that DIFFERENT here?). I've been having to do French tests; my French teacher was surprised to discover that I can write in French, and I think his new goal is to make me write in French verb tenses I don't know as often as possible. I hope it'll work; I'll let you know. I had an English test today-- it was the easiest test ever, and I kind of loved it. Other than the fact that I don't know what the heck a "preterit" is or "irregular verbs" in English (wait, we HAVE those?!?!). I mean, I know the verbs, I just don't know the funky specifics like that-- I've never learned English like this.

Okay, that's all for now!

Hope you guys are doing well, enjoying life, and such!
-Aly