Indifferent

So the iPads are leaving. I don't care. They're just a chunk of technology, not the love of my life. Now we get to be introduced to another chunk, the chrome books. And I don't care about those either. Technology is technology=true. Technology is a person with deep emotional feelings=false. If I offend anyone, I'm sorry. Or maybe I'm not. I don't know. All I know is I'm tired and I can't run on 5 1/2 hours of sleep. This cold doesn't help either. So farewell iPads. I won't exactly be missing you.

Why are we so afraid to be ourselves.

Strangely I agree with this quote from Adele. Society is so absorbed in being the model on the cover of the magazinne that they've forgotten about everything else that makes a person special. They see only outer appearances, whereas Adele wants us to learn theres inner beauty too. We have personalities, not just faces and bodies. In the end it won't matter what you look like or where you got your hair done or which makeup products you buy; it will matter if you're strong enough to survive. It will matter if you have been a kind, plain person or a rude, extravagant being. Adele knows what matters, and I do too. We need to change; we as in everybody. Television isn't helping, magazines aren't helping, and school definitely isn't helping. There everyone is so afraid about being judged so they try to cover up insecurities, cake on the lies, and smear on the worlds' idea of beautiful. That idea is wrong. Why can't we all get along? Why can't we all be ourselves? Why can't we live with the idea that everyone is unique and special and beautiful in their own way? Whybare we so afraid to be who we really are?

Challenge Day

Since I heard about Challenge Day, I feel like I missed out. Everyone knows all these things now, but those of us who didn't go are out of the loop. It's ok, though. Not everyone can have an experience like this, and I feel happy for those that got the opportunity to participate in this. The one thing I've heard is that there was a LOT of crying. It makes me wonder, if I went would I have cried? Would I have been able to feel all the emotions of everyone else? Or would I have just sat there without a tear in my eye? I'm not sure. And I might never know. But it's ok. Everything is ok.

2 Reasons Valentines Day Doesn't Completely Suck

Valentines Day is not an enjoyable day, especially for all us singles out there. I get that it's good for couples, and I'd probably have different feelings toward it if I weren't always single on the day. But some good can come from it. Reason number 1: food. Food is good. It's a well-known fact. And Valentines day is a reason to have parties with food. And usually the food is good, which is all I need. At most parties I'm the one who hangs out by the snack table, or at the very least keeps coming back to get more every 6 minutes. Reason number 2: the AFEs. We're a family of love--AFEworthy love. Not just because it's Valentines Day. We're a loving family all of the time because this past week we all had the courage to say what we want and what's troubling us. Is it safe to say a weight has lifted off of all of our shoulders? I love the AFEs and I'm so grateful to be given the opportunity to be one.

Not Good Enough

Do you ever feel like every single thing you do is a mistake? Like every way you act is wrong? Like everything you say is the wrong thing? I used to be the shy, quiet one, and kind of still am. But I used to keep to myself in fear of being made fun of or shot down. I felt like I could only spill my feelings to myself, but after "This I Believe," I realized that it's ok to be open and honest with others. That it actually helps.

In third or fourth grade I had a best friend who was constantly putting me and others down. She still does that to others, but usually not me anymore. We're still friends, but not as good as we used to be. The next few years were fine, but then it was 7th grade. I still have no idea why, but a few my friends stopped talking to me. I tried talking to them and they just ignored me. All of my other friends didn't seem to have a problem with me though, so I stopped trying to figure out what I did and just tried to enjoy life without any extra worries. Then one day one of my friends looked in the locker of one of the friends who wasn't speaking to me. Inside, there was a small board with the words "Hate List" or something like that written on top--and I was on there along with some others' pictures. Then the friend who saw was shocked and exclaimed, "You hate Alex?" But the other's response was that I loved reading and she hated reading so that's why I was there. It didn't seem a likely story. After that she and the others started talking to me and we're friends again. I have no clue what happened then, but I don't let it worry me now.  I love all of my friends and I hope nothing like this happens ever again.

With my family, it's another story. I'm always expected to do well in school, and, more importantly, life. But sometimes my parents don't realize that I'm not perfect and teenagers are programmed to make mistakes.  Sometimes it feels like I'm not my own person and my parents are trying to make me into someone they want me to be, someone I'm not.  They tell me what activities I should do, even if I hate it (swimming).  They tell me what I have to look like, what I have to act like, what I have to be like, but I just want to be me.  When I was little, I told my grandparents I wanted to be an artist when I grew up.  They told me I couldn't be one.  They said I should be a doctor, like my grandfather's brother, or a lawyer, like my mom.  I cried after that.  I was only 6, but art was what I loved at the time.  When I was 13 I said I wanted to be a writer, and I still do.  Again, my grandparents told me I'd be better off being a doctor or lawyer.  I said that those professions sounded so boring, and I wanted to do something I wanted, something I liked to do.  Thankfully, my parents are fine with whatever profession I choose, as long as I can make somewhat of a living with it and go to college. My mom and dad want the best for me, I know that, and I try the best I can. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail. That's life.

The experiences with my friends have taugt me to be strong and to think what I think and do what I feel is right. I know I would never want to treat someone like they have treated me before. We're on great terms now, but I'll never forget what happened.  I believe the bad times make you stronger.  I believe that people will try to shape you and make you into their version of you, but only you have the power to choose which traits stay and which don't.  I've learned to be more independent and more accepting. I know this wasn't nearly as emotional as 3 certain girls' were, but it's a whole lot better than my first one. All my fellow AFEs have taught me the right way to live and what actually matters to them. We all changed in one way or another, and it was for the better. I love all of you, and I'll never forget this assignment, or my accelerated freshman English class. I think that we'll all remember the emotional and personal papers til we die. I truly hope no one forgets how great this experience was.

Lessons for a Lifetime

Writing my "This I Believe" essay was a learning experience. Usually I don't delve too deeply unto myself and my beliefs, but this project forced me to. I realized what I really thought of the world. Others' presentations also made me discover even more. I learned so much, and not just the useless information they teach you in other classes--these were real life lessons I'll use forever. I think we all made some discoveries, good and bad. This wasn't just another science or history paper; it was an experience that made you wonder about how society works. Sometimes it's in a good, helpful ways. But, other times it just doesn't seem right. We worry about ourselves too much. I realized that trying to be like everyone else is not the way the world should be. If we all tried to be like one perfect person, it would be nothing but boring. We'd all be the same, act the same, look the same. No uniqueness. At all. And that's wrong. The good things in life are the quirks, the things that make you imperfect and that make you yourself. These essays were one of the best projects I've done throughout my school career. This I Believe.

Day of Glass

Ok, is electronics on a national park really necessary? It's ridiculous. It would take away from all the natural beauty. All the wild charm would vanish. That's scary. All these electronics are. Some of it would be cool, like the board in the school. But electronically mixing colors would not go over well with me. Actually, how would children learn if all they had was a screen to touch? I don't like it. Plain and simple--I don't like it. And would the radiation bring cancer on sooner? Would we get smarter because of new technology, or dumber because we would be learning through technology, not through the natural world? It seems like a world hundreds of years off, but I know it will be here soon. And I'm afraid. Technology is taking over the world, just like those high-tech robots in the sci-fi stories. And the question if dying to know is, will we survive?

My True Love

This guy.  Right there.  He's amazing.  Even as an 11 year old first year at Hogwarts.  If you deny he's brilliant, his father will hear about that.  When he was 12 he was even cooler, because he was the potential heir of Slytherin.  When he was 13, he was almost killed by a hippogriff.  I almost cried!  When he was 14, he wasn't chosen for the Tri-Wizard tournament, but we all know he would have won.  When he was 15, he helped out the teachers by trying to expel half of the school because they were being naughty and not following and not following rules.  That's first class.  When he was 16, he became the youngest death eater.  His father and I were so proud.  But, even though he had a little evil in him, he never killed Dumbledore.  What a nice boy!  When he was 17, he remained with the Death Eaters, although it was clear he didn't want to.  He helped Harry Potter out by not telling his family that Harry really was Harry, even though he had a stinging jinx placed on him so his face was disfigured so no one could find out who he really was, but Draco knew it was Harry and still never said it was.  Confusing?  No.