Friday, April 30, 2010


I was inspired to do a fashion-y post by the outfit "argument" my mom and I got into this morning.

I never really clash with my mom when it comes to what I'm allowed to leave the house in. She's fine with a wee bit of mascara then and now, cover-up, etc. The only times she ever makes me change is when she thinks I'll be too cold. I value her opinion, but today I thought she was pretty off.

My outfit of choice: A light green and white stripped blouse with a flower skirt. My mom doesn't like florals and stripes together, but I do. You probably can't see the necklace I'm wearing, but it has a long chain and the pendent is a mini picture frame with a picture of a tree.

A close up of the outfit... forgot to put the necklace back on.
What I wore to school and what my mom liked: A beige t-shirt tucked in to the skirt. I liked it, but I liked the blouse more.
Feedback? I'm curious please.
Oh, in true fashion blog form, I will tell you I got the skirt from H and M, the first blouse from the Ralph Lauren outlet last summer (I wanted to return it but forgot), the second t-shirt from who knows where, and my shoes from Macy's. I think.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Self- Absorbed Teenager Syndrome, or SATS for short

Side-Effects including:

1. Calling yourself fat.

2. Talking to your friends about all the people that like you.

3. COMPLAINING for no reason!!!

We all suffer from it, not just teenagers. I constantly complain to my mom that I'm fat. I constantly worry about no boys liking me. CONSTANTLY. But what's the point?

Ego-centrism is a part of life, unfortunately. How many times do you find yourself worrying about yourself to your friends? If you're normal, then a lot. It's impossible to be modest all the time. But think about it... how do your friends feel when you say that you hate your life? Probably like crap.

I remember when I was younger, I was friends with a girl who always said she hated her life and that nobody liked her and bla bla bla no one cares kind of stuff. I would get so ticked at her, because I felt bad when she said it. Every time she did, I would roar, "You make me feel horrible when you say that!! Am I nobody?!?!"

When you're narcissistic, you think that if you boast to people, they'll think you're cool. It's like the Kissy Pose. (Ugh, I hate even TYPING that foul term.) Whenever I bring my camera to some sort of school outing, there are always girls vying for the flash attention and pouting their trout-pouts. But the thing about the Kissy Pose is that it doesn't always look so horrible if your posing with somebody. If you pose with multiple people and THEN post it on Facebook, then it appears to be (as they think) that you're popular. THIS IS NOT THE WAY TO GO PEOPLE!! Multiple times, I've held the camera up at a bunch of my girlfriends, and out comes the notorious trout pout and wagging tongues and rolled eyes. I demand them to smile normally and happily, and BAM the picture comes out a thousand times better.

People sometimes think that if they boast to people about going there or there, owning this or that, or accomplishing some "amazing feat" they'll ultimately strive for your attention. But it does just the opposite: it drives people away. It drives people away really fast too.

The good thing is, SATS is really easy to cure: compliment somebody. It could be about anything: their outfit, their handwriting, their athleticism, anything really, go crazy. When people get complimented they naturally gravitate toward the complimenter. Then you will probably get some compliments back! Either way, you will feel nicer.

SATS is like the common cold: easy to ignore, but impossible to get rid of completely. There will always be those days when you feel like the ugliest, foulest creature that ever graced the earth. I just had one Friday morning before I had to give a presentation in front of the whole middle school. But it will pass. Remember the good things about yourself, the nice things people have said about you, etc.

If SATS is a huge problem in your life, and it may be a bigger problem for some people but don't worry, and if the advice above doesn't work, there are two main reasons that will drive the term SATS out of the front of your mind for good:


2. YOU

p.s. That's not me in that picture, I got it off the wonderful web.
p.p.s. I invented that little term SATS.
p.p.p.s. Since I do love to take pictures, I started a photo blog!! It's pretty amateur, but it's fun taking the shots. KISSY POSE BE BANNED FOREVER!!!

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

What's the difference?

I always thought "high school" was the place where hell's gates lied. The place where Social Darwinism is taken to a whole new level. I thought it was completly different than middle school. Taylor Swift and Martina McBride made it seem that way, along with every other source of media on hand. So middle school me didn't really have much hope to fall back on...

That's what I was thinking today; my mom's old jean jacket around my waist, my tennis racket swinging on my wrist, my broken backpack full and falling onto my elbow, and my gym bag twisted around my arm. I was the definition of dork.

I was asked to play for the JV girl's tennis team. The high school team. When I agreed to it, it sounded like simple fun, but it was a thousand times more complicated than that. I would have to catch the 1:45 bus from our school campus to the tennis courts down the street, along with tons of other high schoolers. Everyone hangs out in the front of the school waiting for the bus, and I unwillingly had to join them.

When standing alone in the crowd, I made some observations. And I realized, high school wasn't so different then middle school.

It was easy to tell apart the cliques and "statuses". There, ruling their own kingdom, were the cool kids: girls with pounds of eyeliner and put together hair and no fat on their bodies and Juicy socks and gleaming smiles that screamed, "I know you're jealous". There they were, with the cool boys too, and of course with everyone's eyes upon them. It was a wee bit sad.

Then there were the Girls That Wanna Have Fun. Giggling and not caring what everyone else thinks of them. I knew some of the ninth graders because we used to do Girl Scouts together. I made small talk until returning to my introverted state.

Then there were the JV tennis girls who were just fine with not wearing eye liner and not gossiping so much but enjoying each other's company. So, after mustering up my courage, I introduced myself and then the rest was easy. My goal was pretty much just to sit with somebody nice on the bus. From experience, I know what it's like to sit alone amid screaming teens. Not. So. Fun.

And I sat with the nicest girl and everything else was easy...

But what I guess is the moral of the story is that teenagers will always be teenagers until, well, until they're adults. A seventh grader is no different than a tenth grader.

And if you can waltz outside of the box, awesome. Mix it up. People will always be cliquey; that's just the nature of human beings once you think about it. But you don't have to give in to it.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Propaganda Perhaps...

Last weekend (when I meant to write this...whoops a daisies) my friend and I watched The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, one of our all-time favorites. We kept pausing it to discuss how the costumes and the lighting and etc are a factor in the overall story, bla bla bla, but once my friend paused it at the part when the sister is pasting Hitler posters in her room. My friend asked me, "Do you think if the United States made propaganda like that we would believe it?"

"Totally," I said dorkishly. "I mean, the US is a world superpower, if they made a ton of propaganda stuff, they're like a bunch more powerful than Germany was then, we would so believe it. Why wouldn't we, you know?" (My speech is pretty dumb sounding.)

"Well," my friend said, "Don't ya think some people would find out the truth?"

"Yeah." I said. "But, like in Germany, they would be wiped out by the government."

"Do you think we would know the truth?"

"Maybe. I hope so." And we turned the movie back on.

But, now that I think about it, we believe in propaganda everyday. Like in the Catholic Church, for example. We believe that it's no big deal that women can't be priests or bishops or cardinals or popes. We believe that by women being nuns, it makes up for it. But it does not.

Another example of propaganda in recent history is the Cold War. We are putting on the creepiest play this season at my school, called The Children's Story. It takes place in an all-American third grade classroom, the day after the States lost the Cold War, like what would have happened if we did. The previous teacher gets traumatized and thrown out, and a communist 19 year old takes over the class. She convinces the students to shred the American flag, all wear the same uniform, and hate God. I'm a stage manager, and I feel like I want to barf whenever the new communist teacher mocks a little girl for loving God. But the stage currently smells like a dead ferret because of some rotten paint, so that also contributes to the nausea.

But in America back then people lost a lot of their freedom of speech. We were told that communism was beyond beyond terrible. If somebody were to say that they liked or appreciated one tiny factor of communism even, they would be blacklisted for the rest of their lives. Thanks to dear Senator McCarthy and the rest of the terrified nation.

So, I guess propaganda will always be a part of modern day lives. We're told that men who wear Axe get attacked by women. And that's a lie, isn't it? The boys in my grade wear it and us girls have to run through the school hallways with our noses plugged.

What do you guys think?

Saturday, April 3, 2010

The Hunger Games, my new freaky obsession

I had a whole post planned about philosophy and all that, but I'm not sorry to say that it's going to be pushed back a while by this novel that gave me horrible nightmares and made me scream bloody murder from my reading nook on the living room love seat, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.

One of my best friends, Dani, told me to read it ages ago. Before this book the only books we could agree that we liked were The Giver and The Lightning Thief. So that narrows down a lot of the choices.

She likes crazy, scream-your-skull-off adventure books, but I like more romantic, feel good books. Get the picture? I told her that she simply HAS to read The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, a comfort food love novel mixed with some WWII, but Dani refused when I told her the name. Which makes it hard for us to read the same books.

Earlier in the school year she told me about a snippet of The Hunger Games, which she loved loved loved, but I was creeped out and thus did not read the thrilling, terrifying, addictive novel that is making my fingers quiver on the key board right now.

Then another one of our best friends, Marg, started to read it too. So I picked it up from the library Thursday and I HAVE NOT PUT IT DOWN SINCE!!!!!

It takes place in the ruins of North America, in the distant future. The United States are gone and in it's place is a country called Panem. The Capitol is in the middle, surrounded by 12 districts stuck hopelessly in a never-ending poverty and ruled harshly by the Captiol. Imagine New York City with glamorous fashion people and high-tech gizmos and gadgets, and that's what the Capitol is. The districts compare to third world countries.

Once there were 13 districts that rebelled against the Capitol, but the Capitol, with their gizmos and gadgets, crushed the districts into a pulp and destroyed the District 13. Literally.

The Capitol then invented the Hunger Games to show the Districts that the Captiol has all the power and now way Jose are you messing with them again. Each District has to sacrifice one girl and one boy every year to fight to the death in the Hunger Games on live TV. The names of all the girls and all the boys from ages 12-18 in a District go into two big jars, and once a year a name is picked from the girl jar and the boy jar, and those two kids are the kids that have to fight in the Hunger Games.

You know that TV show Spartacus? It's like that. Like when Roman gladiators fought to the death for entertainment... like that. The 24 kids are dumped in the middle of no where and they have to kill each other. To be the last one alive is to win. To lose is to die.

Katniss Everdeen, a poorer than poor 16 year old girl, lives in the crappy section of District with her little sister and her mom. Katniss winds up in the Hunger Games, with another boy who happens to be in love with her and... and... the perils never end.

Seriously, I screamed while I read it, like I was watching a movie. It's mortifying. It's gory. It has the philosophical element of The Giver, my all time favorite book, but it's a thousand times more exciting. Hmm. I think I read that in a review somewhere.

I'm still shaking. Suzanne Collins in a genius. So is Lois Lowry, but she's not a part of this right now...

Read this book. READ IT!!!

But if you don't like reading about injuries and blood and survival, don't read it. But I assure you, it's nothing like Hatchet.

The Hunger Games has what Dani likes, adventure, fighting, futuristic ideas, and what I like, drama, romance, philosophy... it's the perfect novel.

Excuse me, I have to go reserve the sequel, Catching Fire, at the library.

And oh yeah, Vibe, about my debut novel... well I really can't call it my debut novel because it's probably going no where other than the files on my computer... well, in a nutshell, it's about a girl wearing blinders who, by her own arrogance, destroys her little sister's life and her nervous system, and now she has to fix it all and deal with the strange side-effects from what happened with her sister. Like The Hunger Games, The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, and The Giver, I'm trying to mix believable, lovable and loathe-able characters, adventure, drama, and failed romance, and of course, middle school, into one novel. But I'm learning now that writing a full-length novel is not as easy as I thought it would be!!