Everything we do will become a memory. Some of these memories probably won’t consist of things we actually remember or care about–I’m not going to look back on, or care, about every time I spent cleaning my room–but every picture taken, every moment written about, will be something we look at or read and say, “I remember that!” Unless we contract Alzheimer’s, in which case, forget it.

Just today, actually, I was looking through photos on the computer. The original point of doing this was to find nice shots of my siblings and me so my mother could pick the ones she liked best to frame: obviously I got sidetracked, and would look at particularly dashing photos of myself or click on photos of my friends. As I looked at the pictures of my friends, I remembered the moment that I snapped it and what had happened then. The Harry Potter Marathon, which turned out to not really be a marathon, shows pictures of my friends looking both very happy and very tired. I smile looking at an ‘action shot’ of my friend as she’s laughing, remembering how late it was and how excited everyone had gotten when I asked if they wanted ice cream. Other pictures show me another night when I had had a party, and I immediately think of the laughs, the music, the ping pong playing, the throwing darts at the ceiling, and the general happy mood among us. Other pics bring me to a summer day when I met someone important to me, and other nights that remind me of how hard I was laughing.

All of these pictures put a smile on my face, and make me feel a little nostalgic. I think of how much life seems to have changed–at the time, I didn’t know just how important the pictures taken would be. Now, I’m so thankful that I took them. Friends will sometimes tease me when I constantly say, “Ok, picture!” But I know that these photographs will mean so much to all of us, if only a few months later. The moment that the picture was taken will be gone forever: but the picture will keep the memory with you forever.

“All I’ve got are these photographs.” ~Photographs, Rihanna.


February 27, 2012 at 8:44 pm 1 comment

Sixteen Doesn’t Mean A Party

For the longest time, I looked forward to turning sixteen. There always seemed to be a lot of hype around that ‘magical’ age: driving aimlessly with friends, having a boyfriend, spending large amounts of money on clothes that will be worn once, and going to wild parties full of music, dancing, drunk couples making out in the corners, and co-ed sleepovers. Now back to reality: ‘Sweet Sixteen’ is not all that. Oh sure, maybe it is for the public school students whose parents want to see them make as many mistakes as possible, but not for the average homeschooled chick.

Here is a normal weekend for this sixteen year old girl: Stay up late (11:00, midnight, maybe), and sleep in. Perhaps have a few friends over, eat junk food, and watch movies; catch up on the boy drama that happened over the past week; and watch a chick flick either by myself or with my mother. Some weekends involve sleepovers–which consists of basically the same things as mentioned above, only with one or two other girls. Really good weekends have a party stuck in there: these are parties with a supervised adult in the house, root beer (not beer), and general talking and laughing. There will be dancing and music, depending on the type of party. Surprisingly, my mother allows me to have co-ed sleepovers–and when I say co-ed I mean three girls and the brother of one of the girls. This is because there is no romantic attraction between myself and the guy. If there was, she would tell me I have to wait until I’m twenty five and not living in her house–and not to tell her if I do. I usually have the use of my mother’s car (a white minivan, so you know I look cool), which is probably the highlight of being sixteen right now.

I was happy with these arrangements, until I heard of a friend’s Saturday: clubbing. This immediately made me feel very young and very lame. My, ‘Sweet Sixteen’ weekends, suddenly sounded more like your average eleven year old’s in comparison. I felt just a tad jealous as I listened to descriptions of the bouncers, the flirtations, and the getting home at 3 a.m. Doesn’t a girl who’s trying to survive high school, get this kind of freedom? Whatever happened to the meaning in the song, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”? Why do singers even write about partying when it seems as though the only people who can live the songs are eighteen and older? It’s as though society is deliberately sticking their tongues out at the nerdy homeschoolers who sit at home on a Saturday night reading either a Wall Street Journal article their dad threw at them, or Bossypants by Tina Fey.

So to my nearing-sixteen-year olds: life will probably be about the same as it is for you now, except you may have your license or you have more responsibility and rules thrust upon you (no texting past 11:00 on a school night!). You’re probably more likely to get grounded and have your cell phone taken away from you, too. The older you get, while you’re still living at home, the more possessions your parents will have to threaten taking away–that really cool ipod touch you bought? If you disagree with your parents, they’ll take it away. Car privileges? Also revoked. It seems as if the older you get, the less fun life will be because you’ll have more to whine about to your friends about your parents–if you see your friends.

But, do not fret! You’ll have plenty of time to be stupid when you’re older. The point of parents’ restrictions is to prevent you from doing stupid things now. Because, lets face it, we’re more likely to make a stupid decision than a smart one, while we’re teenagers. That’s why you can’t go to the party that might have smokers there–unless your parents are confident in your ability to say no despite peer pressure. And even though the initial thought of going to a party that has that seems fun, a lot of people can get hurt or in trouble by doing so. Enjoy the sleepovers with your girls. Enjoy the stomach cramps that come from laughing so hard at nothing. Enjoy the fact that you’re high from soda, not weed. And to everybody else who has the privilege of staying out as late as they want? Kindly don’t tell us younger ones about it. We don’t wanna know.

February 24, 2012 at 6:24 pm Leave a comment

Choices And The Future

Everyone has to make choices. Some are easy: You may have to choose between eating chocolate ice cream or vanilla (go with chocolate). Some choices are harder to make than others. They may hurt yourself, loved ones, or both. They may affect your future. But they need to be made, and everyone faces a difficult decision at least once in their lifetime, probably more.

Recently, I saw a girl being hit by someone in her car. I didn’t know what to do-I couldn’t exactly jump out of my car and tell the guy to leave, as I might be putting myself in danger (and who would listen to a sixteen year old girl anyway)-but I felt obligated to do something. Not knowing what the right thing to do would be, I drove away, seeing the girl get messed with again. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen, and I felt helpless in this situation. After getting home and relating this to my dad, he told me I probably should have called 9-1-1. I immediately realized that that’s what I should have done. Instead of making the choice that might have helped the situation, I made the choice to get myself completely out of the situation. I didn’t know what to do, and without even realizing it at the time, I made the wrong decision.

I’m starting to find that, with my getting older, I’m facing more and harder decisions. The decisions I make now are more likely to affect my future. I’ve never really dealt with peer pressure before–now I’m beginning to notice it more. I’ve felt the pressure to smoke weed, something I’ve never felt inclined to do before, because I know people who do. But I’ve made the choice not to: because sure, getting high might be fun for about ten minutes..but I’m focusing on my life. My future. What is best for me as a whole. Do I want to have good memories of my teenage years when I’m twenty five? Yes, of course! And I will; drug free.  Because I want to make a decision I know I wont regret in the future.

February 23, 2012 at 2:48 am 4 comments


Each one of us wants to be loved. To feel needed, wanted, and cared for. Why do we feel this way? Because there is such a thing as friendship. And without friendship, each one of us feels the opposite: unwanted, unneeded, and unloved. That’s never a fun feeling. So my goal in life? To never make others feel that way and to be able to say when I die, “I had the time of my life with my friends.” I want to be known as a girl that made others feel loved. 

Sometimes a friend will say to me, “Thanks for being there for me.” I say that too because when I feel a rush of gratitude towards a friend, I want to try to show my appreciation. Recently, as I mentioned in my first post, I asked a close friend for help on setting up this blog–because that’s what friends do. What are friends for if you cannot ask them for help? To open up to them or to cry to them? Phrases that irk me are “I don’t need help” or,”I can get through it by myself.” People that have to say this are only proving that they do in fact need a supporting hand. It is those that say, “I need you right now” that are the smart ones. 

A favorite quote of mine by Martin Luther King Jr. is, “In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” We will only really know who our true friends are by watching their actions. Words do not mean anything if actions do not back them up. Anyone can say, “I like you” or, “You’re my best friend.” But not everyone can or will mean it. 

There was a period in my life where I was alone. I didn’t have that one special friend. I wasn’t partying it up every weekend; my weekends consisted of sitting around the living room with my parents and occasionally my brother, talking about my miserable, friendless life. Oh sure I had plenty of friends: but no really close friends, which is what I wanted. Then I began to spend more time with my neighbor, Katelyn. Then with her best friend, Joy. Soon, I was attending their church twice a week, and we formed a knitting club. From there, I became closer with a couple of other people from my acting group, and they make my world (and my weekends).

Now, I still don’t party it up every weekend, and I still sometimes sit around the living room with my parents, complaining about the latest high school problems I have. But I went from having zero best friends, to several best friends. They are the friends that I hope to carry with me through college. And right now? I couldn’t be happier with who I know.

February 20, 2012 at 3:20 am 2 comments

Singles Awareness Day (Otherwise known as Valentine’s Day).

To my happy, ‘in a relationship’ friends: Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you had a romantic, gooey time, with your significant other. To my not so ‘in a relationship’ friends: I hope you had a fun day being single! This will be the first, of probably several, posts on relationships. But since it’s Valentine’s Day, I thought this would be a good time to write the first one.

If you are a teenage guy (note the word ‘teenager’), this is what I predict you are thinking: “Whose stupid idea was it to put me in this stressful situation where I feel obligated to buy my girlfriend something? If I get her something, I not only empty my wallet, but miss out playing Battlefield 3 with my friends. If I ‘forget’ to buy her a dozen roses and a diamond necklace, then she’ll cry, and I hate it when girls cry.” Well, here’s some advice from an easy-to-please girl. Granted, you might have the girlfriend that really DOES expect the dozen roses and diamond necklace, in which case I can’t help you-but all a lot of us girls want is a simple reminder that you care. Those reminders include, but are not limited to: a bouquet, a card, a poem, an original song, a cd playlist, or anything that you personally thought of. Nothing fancy, nothing Hallmark-y, unless it was a joke between you and the girl. I might also point out that un-gluing your eyes from that Playstation 3 for a few hours, will not kill you. Here are a few rules to follow on Valentine’s Day:

Rule #1: Never, ever, EVER, break up with a girl on this day. If you do, you will be known as, “That jerkface who broke my heart on a holiday celebrating love.” Want to be remembered for that? Then go right ahead. But do not be surprised if no girl will go out with you after that.

Rule #2: Don’t complain. This is actually a rule that you should be reminding yourself of  daily.

Rule #3: Don’t try to pick out perfume without your girl’s best friend, unless the girl has specifically told you what she likes. DO NOT go with your best friend–he won’t know what to get any better than you will, and will probably suggest you get her some Old Spice instead, because that’s what he likes.

Rule #4: If you’re single, it would still be thoughtful of you to wish another single girl a, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” You will get props, for sure.

Now to my single ladies: Not having a boyfriend on this day sucks. You go all year planning your perfect Valentine’s Day. Then he breaks up with you. Or the day is suddenly upon you and you think, “Crap, I still don’t have a boyfriend!” And start frantically planning how you can get one in the next twenty four hours. Valentine’s Day comes, and you read the statuses people post on Facebook: “Ooo, my honey got me flowers!” Or, “Aw, my baby is just too sweet.” Or, “I have the best boyfriend everr like, OMG!” Then you eat the chocolate that you got from the only man in your life that seems to care (your fifty-something-year-old dad), go to your room, and cry for awhile at the unfairness in life–and the fact that you might have just gotten a zit from all the chocolate you snarfed. Pretty depressing picture, right?

Here are some things to keep in mind:

If you’re in highschool, it won’t last. Way more mature boys than the ones surrounding you now, will be all over you when you’re older.

Celebrate being single! It means you can flirt with the guys who are single as well. Only they are celebrating because they are off the hook for buying gifts this year.

Aaaand, my personal favorite: Take a cynical outlook on the whole situation. Honestly, Valentine’s Day is pretty silly. When people think of this holiday, it’s unlikely that they’ll think, “Oh! A chance for me to spread love to everyone!” even if that’s what it’s supposed to be about. No, they will think about the possibility of a boy saying those romantic words, “Be my Valentine?” Acting cynical towards the annoying people who won’t stop gushing about their boyfriends, is a good cover. Just don’t show that side of you when a guy is around or he’ll get the wrong impression. ;)

In conclusion: Boys, red roses are nice. And girls, go ahead and cry. Because yes, it can be a depressing holiday-after all, it IS drawing attention to single people-but be happy that you have one man that will be around to give you chocolate: and shoot the jerkface who broke up with you. Need I name who this special man is? I don’t think so.

February 15, 2012 at 4:12 am 2 comments


The subject of this post has had books written about it. Unfortunately, I don’t have the knowledge nor the room to write a book about it–I will only be skimming the surface. This also should explain the name for my blog.

I have been/am part of a theater group named,”Perform it! Young Peoples Stage Company.” The group consists of about fifty kids, ranging from five to nineteen, and we perform Shakespeare’s plays. I have been on this same stage, performing theater, since I was six years old, and have loved it ever since.

It is not just being the center of attention that attracts me to theater so much-though I would be lying to say that that didn’t have any appeal-it is a whole combination of things, compounding into one feeling that I cannot describe. The aspects that I can express are these: The costumes, the makeup, the teamwork, the feeling of the lights as they come down on the stage, the music that opens the performance, and the rush that comes with stepping out on the stage–the stage, where once you have stepped out on it, you are no longer yourself; you are your character. The stage–it can be your enemy or your friend. Your enemy, should you drop a line and suddenly notice the heat emanating from the lights, how silent everything can be, and the eyes of the audience boring holes into you. Your friend, should you take all of that into stride and try again.

Theater brings out the sides to people’s characters that you would never have noticed otherwise. I have seen those that are quiet and shy off the stage, turn into pompous, bold, or flirtatious people, on the stage. Theater can turn people who already have these characteristics, into drama queens–a trait that can make even the best actors and actresses unbearable to be around.

Acting is a very competitive field. Although many people may love to act, they will not necessarily become professionals. Out of the millions who want to act in movies or  onstage, only a small percentage will make it–and those people are not just ‘good actors.’ They are brilliant, exceptional, actors. However, this is no reason to back down if you are passionate and work hard enough. Acting isn’t about simply being the center of attention or how much money or fame you attract–if the first thought that comes to mind is not the acting itself, than you are not as serious about it as you might have thought.

The theater is everything to me. I know that many will roll their eyes when they hear a sixteen year old say, “I want to be an actress!” But when I say that, I really do want to be. If I don’t become a professional who walks on the red carpet, but simply a person who can pick up small acting jobs here and there-even to have acting on the back burner of life, permanently-then I will be happy. As long as I am “alwaysonstage”, I will be content.

February 10, 2012 at 10:40 pm 8 comments

The First Post

Hello, People Of The Internet,

Well, this is my first blog post! After several hours of shouting, swearing, and other forms of immature behavior that I thrust upon my poor computer, I finally managed to put up a suitable background for my profile. It doesn’t sound that hard; in fact, you’re probably thinking to yourself: “Wow. If it took her that long just to get started, then maybe she shouldn’t have a blog.” To further your astonishment, I asked my friend for help. And I am not ashamed to have done so. Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do? But that is for a later post.

My goal in creating this blog is to not only improve my writing but to increase my interest for doing so. I am hoping that a year from now (if I stick with it for that long), I will look back on my posts and not be completely embarrassed.



February 8, 2012 at 5:15 pm 4 comments

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