TV's on too much and I don't ever think enough about the things that matter most.

Chestnut, February 2nd 2012

Somewhere, Winter is having a vacation. Picture some snowball of personified season, sipping pineapple juice out of a coconut in Hawaii. Anyways, this particular year, Winter has been somewhat of a joke in Chicago. Maybe a break of sorts, from it's usual brutality.

(Luckily, due to snowmaking technology, snowboarding isn't out of the question).

And yet, it's been a winter of oversized cardigans, big books, and hot tea. So there aren't many complaints.

There. I started a post off with weather. I am so cliche.

Writing has been slow for me lately, and I've disappointed myself. Although I've come to realize there are times, where you need to accumulate thoughts, instead of just regurgitating ideas out at the speed of light. Time needs to be allowed to saturate truth, knowledge, and opinions.

Weird tissues are weird

HOW MANY DATES TO WAIT UNTIL YOU START TALKING ABOUT HUMANITY IN THIRD PERSON?

My best friend, Emma, and myself came up with a little list of articles we wish magazines would feature. I dubbed them "Weird Girl Problems". You can read some of the less specific ones on her blog, here. There were also some pretty funny "believe it or not, we could have used advice for this bizarre occurrence" ones, that I might post on our joint blog. Anyways, if you have any you'd like to submit, PLEASE DO! Leave in comments, and I'l post them with a link to your profile.

(If the swearing offends you, I do apologize)

As far as the humanity in third person question, in all seriousness, my rants tend to sound like I am an alien, watching people and wondering if they see the ridiculousness of it all.
That's why I relate to Kurt Vonnegut's writing style, because he nitpicks at all the idiosyncrasies of our people without sounding mean, just honest. I try not to be a pessimist, or think the worst of people. No, I love people, yet hate society as a whole. Once, in English, I remember going over how people tend to generalize things, and that it's easier to say "Oh, I love Africans" but it's harder to deal with noisy neighbors. It's easier to love something when it's a large, idealistic version, but when it comes to individual basis, it's a little more difficult kind of love.

Reading through my NaNoWriMo novel. Ouch.
A lot of rubbish, but maybe scraps worth saving.

What have you been listening to, music wise? I could use some musical variety right now.

Cheerio,
Jillian

PS
I have the Italian National Anthem (dance party version) stuck in my head.
Oy vey, help me.

Baby, it's 3AM I must be lonely.

"She says it's cold outside and she hands me my rain coat. 

She's always worried about things like that.

She says it's all gonna end and it may as well be my fault.                                                    She only sleeps when it's raining. She screams, and her voice is straining. 

She says 'Baby, it's 3AM I must be lonely. And I'm so scared of it all sometimes, the rain's gonna wash away what I believe in"

_3AM, Matchbox Twenty, (lyrics typed from memory) 

My alarm clock went off at 3AM this morning. Never intentionally woke up this early before.
Stayed up? Sure.

Driving through the "mountains" this morning. Really excited to catch a sunrise.

Upon entering the kitchen for coffee, (at 3AM, mind you), I run into this conversation between my 9 year old sister, Nica, and my 15 year old brother Sam.

"Who wouldn't want the Hobbit News app on their iPod?" Sam exclaimed, as he bent over the glowing screen of his macbook with an incredulous look on his face.

Nica twirled her blond hair, and crinkled her nose. "I wouldn't"

Enter me, doing that thing guys do with their head when they think that they are too cool to actually say hello. That little head nod, eyes half closed. Go over. Get coffee.

Sam sighs, punching keys on his laptop. "You are not my sister"

"Hey, I don't have Hobbit News on my phone, so I guess you're down another sister"
I said.

He rolls his eyes.

"Let me guess, Trey wouldn't want it either. So now I'm sister-less"

"Probably true" I consented. I feel too awake already. "Luke would probably find that ridiculous, so you're losing siblings left and right this morning. In fact, at last count, you're now an only child. How does it feel to be an only child?" I added before walking out of the room.

Just your typical Thursday morning in my family.

My friend Emma (who has a blog, which I can link, only if you're into anarchism and/or extreme homeschooling, or other non-typical teenagery stuff. Because otherwise you'd be blown out of the water) started reading The Fault In Our Stars last night. And we were texting back and forth, until the last I heard, she was tearing up at the fifth chapter. So now I'm giving her mourning space. I was such a wreck when I finished that book late one night.
Heartbroken. But for anyone in that post-TFiOS haze, I promise that in a week or so after you've finished it, you'll be able to see it as one of the most beautiful books you've ever read, heartbreak aside.

Lately it seems like I've been crazy to live.
Wonderful feeling, having something excite you, to be inspired, to feel passionate.
I took apart one of my favorite childhood songs, and remastered it.

Katie recently explained that she loved learned but not so much school. I've been really thinking about that lately. Why do people go to school if not to learn? And yet, how much actual learning is accomplished in school? How much better is it to learn about things that you love? About things that you'll remember? It's seems a little strange that so many people spend so much time cramming information that they'll never use again into their brains.

I'm really grateful for my friends. While I've never been the girl with millions of friends, I still have a handful of friendships that I'd be lost without. Going through a little of a hard time this week when I felt cheated, and my friends were adorably indignant for my sake.

I really need to go get in the car, because we have to leave now.

Have a lovely weekend.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I have around 13,000,000 words on my computer.

West Virginia, last July.

I went through a bunch of thoughts on ways to change this blog, but decided in the end that the best thing I can do is to actually blog, and read other peoples blog. So no fancy updates right now. Although I'm going to commit to using more of my own pictures, instead of using pictures other people have taken. There are two reasons for this, number one is that I feel like I'm stealing, and number two is that I love blogs with pictures from people's actual lives.

Speaking of pictures, there are some very specific categories in the 1,000 plus photographs I've taken on my cell phone.

Outfit pictures. Still not sure why exactly, since I'm not one of those fashionable sort of girls. I pretty much just wear whatever makes me happy on any given day. Yet, I have quite the collection of these type of "Here, this is what I'm wearing today" pictures.

Food. Perhaps I have a little bit of an unhealthy obsession with salads in particular.

It's not that I'm the sort of person who tweets their food. It's more of this personal diary of all the pretty looking food I eat. Never claimed to be normal.

Drinks too, I guess. *sigh* This is a little sad.

Art. Mostly sketches I don't have time to scan into my computer.

Old pictures that I've taken pictures of.

Pictures with people. Lots of them. More than I could possibly post. Here is two of them.

Photographs that show what I'm up to in a moment of time.

So, there, you've had a glimpse of my life. It's so much easier documenting everything with pictures. I'd be really interested if any of you want to write a similar post, link it in the comments and I'll edit it into this post.

Happy Sunday Afternoon.

Truth

"The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but
shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more,
but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and
smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees
but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more
problems, more medicine, but less wellness.


We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too
little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our
possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and
hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to
life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but
have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer
space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom,
but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but
accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more
computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we
communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small
character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but
broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway
morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything
from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the
showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can
bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share
this insight, or to just hit delete...

Remember, to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not
going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks
up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave
your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the
only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most
of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from
deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person might
not be there again. Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to
share the precious thoughts in your mind." — Bob Mooreshead

Believe in me, because I don't believe in anything.

Photo credit goes to my brilliant nine year old sister Nica.

"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got till it's gone" 

The Counting Crows have been there for me for a long while. 

I remember being at my Aunt's wedding, ten years old, junior bridesmaid in a silk gown, belting "Big Yellow Taxi" out with all my might. It was a ridiculous song to sing at a wedding, one so completely out of context that I found it oddly suitable. Of course, I knew very few accurate lyrics, so I improvised where needed.   

Ironically enough, the same song played overhead while I sat across from a gorgeous guy of eighteen, with eyes the color of water on a tropical vacation flyer, and a smile that could melt gold. He, whom had pursued me with a comfortable amount of attention. He whom I had firmly ignored, not allowed a place in my head, let alone my heart. This particular moment, he was telling me about his new girlfriend. I nodded enthusiastically, giving the appropriate "She's lucky". Then I noticed the music and I closed my eyes and whispered "I love Counting Crows". He looked up from studying the table and I said a quick something to the effect of never mind. 

"Take a holiday in Spain. Drink my worries down the drain, fly away to somewhere new"

The song "Holiday in Spain" reminds me of vacations with my Dad. Maybe it has to do with their best album being named "August and Everything After" but the Crows have always reminded me of Autumn, and with autumn, consequently camping trips. Bumping along the highway sitting in the van next to my Dad while he played songs my mother would have considered inappropriate. Apples, bonfires, chilly air, flame colored leaves. And the Counting Crows. I suppose this song is an odd one to have remind you of a dad, the drinking and suggestiveness of it would imply so. But maybe it has to do with that time when I got sick from overdosing on sugar and my Dad left his friends and card table to come lie under the stars talking with me and my younger brother. I only half minded the Tequila breath. My Dad has the ability to make anything better. Even though I am past the phase where he is flawless, I still firmly insist he has the power to right a great amount of wrong. 

"The smell of hospitals in winter and the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters but no pearls"

There are those months and years that go on and on and you find yourself searching for meaning in life's madness, grasping at what little hope you can find in those long and gray days. A Long December is about that feeling. Tired, worn down and stretched out. But hopeful of a brighter year coming. Decembers are always like that, at least for me. They give you a chance to review the year, and set goals for the next. The holidays can be either intensely lonely or incredibly exhausting. Sitting on public places during the holidays, slowly drinking coffee and watching people run around in their costs, with agendas, walking home from the train with briefcases, teenagers with dark circles under their eyes due to staying up all night cramming for finals. The hopeful looks on the faces of children. It's not such a bad month. 

"Every night these silhouettes appear above my head. Little angels of the silences climb into my bed"

There's a funny feeling as the clock strikes midnight and you find yourself awake. Some times tears find you when you least expect it. The moon shines down into my bedroom from the picture window, and my breath is ragged with emotions that will never find their way out of the maze inside of my head. Why does it seem like everything you ever worried about hits you when your house it quiet and you have nothing but the clicking of the ceiling fan's gentle clicking to remind you that you can actually hear. The faces of people I have loved and lost are a carousel in my imagination.  I wiggle my toes,cans see the garish Christmas lights outside the window. Here it is, December fourteenth, for a few more minutes at least, and we haven't had an inch of snow in Chicago. Oh great, here, I'll be up another hour at least contemplating global warming and green house gases. I am an insufferable insomniac. Have been for years. Used to sit in a chair and count how many times the streetlights flickered. That's the funny thing though, this near the city it's never really dark outside. The sky has this orangish cast from all the city lights that are still glowing. This isn't the way to stay awake all night. I much prefer walking down to the lake, or a river at least, listening to street musicians, and seeing my breath in the chilly December night air. I like dancing along brick paths, and watching the water reflect things. But that isn't an option on most nights. Instead I'm locked here in my bedroom with the ghosts of yesterday. Staring at the ceiling, with all these voices tumbling around in my head. Ask my best friend, I never make sense at night. 

Angels of The Silences is a ballad for all those nights I've been up, not certain what I'm doing, but definitely not sleeping. 

What do you think, should I write more music memory essays?

Guess this is growing up

Work, this morning. Up at six, with far too little caffeine. The sun rising, all reds, oranges and blue, through the trees, sprinkled with a lousy covering of snow, barely an inch to be generous. Either I magically became a wimp over the summer, or it was cold outside. Difficult to tell sometimes, you know?  The drive was quiet, and beautiful too. Can't explain why I didn't turn up music. Sometimes it's nice to allow yourself a moment of peace. Seems like lately all that's been coming into my brain is more and more information with less and less time to fully process it. I'm like a child, in a way. Waking up on Monday, sure of my future status in the New York City ballet, then deciding before lunch that an English teacher at Yale would be preferable. Suppose it would be only fair to be honest. I don't know where I am going. Barely figured out who I am, for that matter, and they want answers already.

That is not the entire truth, come to think of it. I know where I want to go. I want to move far away from these subdivisions, and strip malls. Somewhere that I do not know roads naturally, some place I could rediscover for myself. The realist inside my head whispers that all places are essentially the same, and while I know that has some truth, it still leads me to pursue this train of thought with a passion.

They built a water tower near the office. Tried to make it look like an old Lighthouse. It's the most pitiful thing you could ever see, really. Chicago is land locked, you know? And though you can see the Willis/Sears tower from there, and the lake isn't all that faraway, it's about as nautical as the Sahara.

There are younger teenagers at work, in the hallways, awkwardly shuffling to their appointments, their parents sitting in the waiting room, with their copies of People Magazine or Golfer's Digest, or whatever sort of inferior reading material lies around on the table out there. If it were me, I would fill all of those sorts of waiting places with books about a million different topics, something would be bound to fascinating to someone.

Wonder how they would see me. Just a short girl, with ordinary brown eyes and ordinary brown hair, dark circles under her eyes, too pale skin, and a small smile, bending over file cabinets in a much too large sweater, my fingers cold and blue in the florescent lighting.
Doubt they would care.

The funniest thing happened though, I was getting some papers from the manager's office, and I had the huge box halfway into the hall. Some teenagers passed, maybe a year or two younger than me, off to the consultation room. And something shocked me of out the blue.
I'm no longer one of them really. There was a sensation that I had crossed a barrier of no return. In a state of panic, I attempted to recall the last time I engaged in a teenagerly conversation or act. Even with my friends, we act so old, our conversations are nothing like those that I overhear.

It is true, I have never been the epitome of normalcy for the fact, either. So it's hard to say for certain whether or not I can judge my growing up based on those around me.

But I looked at a Christmas card from Freshman year. A friend, my Dad, and I were compared it with our card from this year. And I looked at that dorky girl, with that ridiculous look on her face (I'd like to believe it was just an awkward phase and I'm more attractive than that now, but it might be wishful thinking), and think to myself:
"Who the hell is she?"

Myself, now, today, and the girl in that photo have entirely different views. We want different things. Have different relationships. Care about opposite things.
Our whole basis of what life means is so polar, that it's hard to see where the shifting happened.

Some things are definitely for the better. Others are debatably worse. I'm a lot less shocked by things then I was then, but in turn I'm also a lot less phased by things.

(Side note, I'm a much better writer than her, don't you dare go into the blog archives to the dark ages)

And worst of all, there have been people, things and dreams I've had to toss to the wind.
Life is just a revolving door, bringing people and adventure in and out of your particular window of life at an alarmingly fast rate. You need to learn to love without being shattered when you lose. You need to cherish every single moment you're given.

So I'm going to be in the now. Because I want twenty-five year old me to be able to look back and say "Hey, I was on the right track" when she thinks about me.

Just some very long winded thoughts.

Here are some current obsessions of mine. 

They are mostly random things that I've found myself 

falling in love with.

 November. I'm sorry, but I have such an unrequited love for this month. Everything about it is mostly wonderful The last few weeks to skate before snow comes, my favorite chill holiday, school finds it's rhythm. Yeah.

Black Nylons. Holy heck, so fun to wear with pretty much anything. Rip 'em up, and it's classic rocker, or wear them in tact, and they're just this classy touch. Pairing them with goth victorian boots is the best.

 Coconut anything, especially milk. Admittedly, when my Mom started introducing it, I was hesitant. I believe last weekend I had coconut milk egg nog, coconut milk yogurt, and coconut milk itself as well. Crazy, but the stuff is great, with half the calories of regular whole milk.

 Anything that's the color plum. From flowers, to sweaters, to paintings, this is my new favorite color.

 Oscar Wilde quotes. He was a bloody genius, and pretty much everything he ever wrote nspires me. You can read some quotes by clicking here, but this one is a favorite:

"I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a word of what I am saying" 

Story of my life.

 Bass guitar, which always has inspired me, but especially of late. I'm bribing myself to get a new one if I can get X amount of projects done by the end of the month, including finishing my NaNoWriMo novel.

 Umphrey's McGee, Phish, Grateful Dead, and other jam bands. They are the perfect thing for this time of year. I know I'll look back at this month and remember it based on what I was listening to at the time, like last December I was on a Killers kick. The song Rocker, by Umphrey's is especially wonderful, because I love the guitar riffs. And also, Fleet Foxes are amazing, and I'm learning to play their song Battery Kinzie. Oh, and Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" is stuck in my head.

So, what are some of your obsessions of late?

Me? A music journalist? Ahahaha... right.

SO you may be wondering where I've been. In fact, I can see all of you, with scowls on your faces, shaking your fingers in stern admonition.

But I have a good excuse! Really, I do.

Other than writing 18,500 words in the past 10 days, and school, and co-writing songs with my best friend, I've also started a music blogging stint.

If I may be so pretentious as to suppose I am missed, I highly recommend reading my latest music journalism endeavors, by clicking this link here.

Hope all is well with all your lives, precious people.

WANTED: NaNoWriMo Trenchmate/writer buddy/literary BFF

It's that time of year again, when the leaves have almost all fallen, hot drinks are mandatory, and school has just sort of gotten into a rhythm (hopefully).

Oh, and thousands of people around the world are getting ready to attempt writing 50,000 words in 30 days.

If you're interested, more information can be found at:
at the National Novel Writing Month homepage.

So, who is with me? Positions are open for writing buddies and/or people who will incessantly nag me until my book is completed.

Leave me a comment or message if you're planning on entering this year :)

August and Everything After

Autumn. The word itself speaks enough for the entire season's glory.
Enjoying every little last bit of Indian Summer that there is.
(Is Indian Summer still politically correct? I don't even know anymore).

Hello beautiful. Yes, I've been gone.

See, while I was away I worked on taking over a small alien planet know as Whatchamacallit, where people have spaghetti for hair, skin the shade of cheetos, speak entirely in slang, and walk around in a daze, using flashing lights as means of communication. Thus is my life.

In all honesty, my life has been insane. I actually cried a few weeks ago, no joke.
That was an altogether strange experience, one that I wouldn't like to repeat any time soon.

What do you say to me trying again?

"Believe in me, help me believe in anything, I want to be someone who believes"

The Counting Crows are my new favorite band. Period. Exclamation point.

Also, who saw Captain America? Didn't it rock? Way better than Thor.

In other news, IOS 5 came out today, a week after the Genius of a man passed on.
A moment of silence as we all download that.

I miss y'all!!!! And everyone knows, I'm stingy with my exclamation points.

Did you know that carnivorous plants don't actually eat insects?

Toodles,
Jillian

"....check my vital signs and know I'm still alive...."

_Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Sam: Your world must be shattered, huh?
Me: Nah, I just listen to Green Day and cry a lot.

And I still have his drumset in my basement, like the time I carried around that heart shaped scrape of red paper with his erratic handwriting scrawled on it for weeks in my pocket till I finally let it go. My head whispers fool.

Almost got hit by a car yesterday. That was fun. They say your life flashes before you, but all I could do was think "Dang it's going to hit me" until stopped inches away.

I'm worn thin and running on empty, but I think those are all good signs for my blogging career *sigh*

Forever is never enough.

Maybe I'll become one of those scene kids, dye my hair black and write dark poetry and never let people see more than one eye at a time.
Okay, THAT is laughable.

"....for what it's worth it was worth all the while..."

_Good Riddance 

I have an unrequited love for cheap frosting and drugstore shampoo.

Maybe for context I should say that I grew up in a hippie, all organic type household.

There was no place for electric blue frosting or Pert in my life.

Wouldn't it be cool if someone made bandaids for your soul?

"Carrots help you see much better in the dark. Don't talk to [boys] they'll break your heart"

The Wombats

Dear Girl randomly sitting outside my window talking loudly on the phone,

This is private property. Who the heck even are you?

Brain Stew

Words. Ideas. Pushing into my brain. 

I can't handle all the voices and opinions whirling across the table around me.

I want to scream, or at the very least block my ears and shut the static out. 

There comes a point when information is too much. 

I need time to absorb it all. Words. Memories.

Jillian, I love you. 

Jillian, you're stupid.

Jillian, I miss you. 

Jillian, we haven't talked in a year.

Jillian, you've changed.

Jillian, you keep too much pain inside.

Jillian, where are you? 

Jillian, how could you have left me without saying goodbye?

Jillian, what are you hiding from?

I can't take it anymore.  

I need to walk away. 

Push my chair out from the table. 

Slip around the corner.

Why do you love me?

I know how stupid I am.

You have no idea how much I miss you.

But when we talk we never say anything.

We all change, look at you.

It's better than exploding.

I don't know where I am or where I'm going.

You have no idea how much walking away killed me.

Myself.

Today while sitting in a convention, legs crossed (my Mom gets annoyed at me, but I have to sit in a mangled position or I can't have peace), head cocked, I was reminded of a time when I was very young.
We had this picture book, burgundy cloth and golden script adorning the cover.
The illustrations were lush, with gorgeous colors. There was a catch though.
No words. Every single time the story was different. It depended greatly on whether it was my Dad or my Mom telling the story. But even then, neither of them repeated the same tale twice.
I think life is like that story book.
So many people living in similar environments, but living different lives, different stories.
Seeing the same moments with different eyes.

My best friend has been having me listen to country music. I don't mind it, surprisingly.
It's nice to open my very close-minded music taste.
Yes, I could be identified as a music snob.
But the thing is, Emma is a small town girl, and I was born and raised in and around the city, so I don't think I'll ever really know how to relate to half of the songs.

In many ways though, country music supports a rather false view of love.

It's not like that, really.

I was dumb, and stayed up till 3AM last night.
I'm about to collapse right now, despite being heavily caffeinated most of today.
My friend Rianka asked what I was doing up so late, and I really have no idea, except I'm positive I wasn't sleeping.

Goodnight world :)

Thunder Road

"You're scared and you're thinkin' maybe we ain't so young anymore

Show a little faith, there's magic in the night

Ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright"

_Bruce Springsteen

                                          

I love that feeling of sitting around singing Nirvana songs while someone plays a guitar.

                            I am making a comeback.

The shadows fall around him.

Clothing emotions in burlap.

Time never repeats, but history does far too often.

They throw stones for love.

And make war with the ones that know them best.

My skateboard, taken in the beginning of May

After working myself really hard, I'm taking a break from school.

True, I'm going to a big convention, which could be considered school.

But I'm taking a week away from the stress.

I'm not doing Summer break, I rarely do, I just need a chance to slow things down for a minute.

Taken on the way to a Blackhawks game

We all complain about being so busy, running from one thing to the next.

But secretly, I think we're afraid of the moment when there isn't one more thing to do.

Because what will we live for then?

We need to find something bigger than ourselves.

Pitching

Rediscovering things that I love. These are the things that set us apart from everyone else.

The color plum. Music, rock, grunge, alternative, acoustic, Brit punk. Coffee shops. Skateboarding. Pure laughter. Large books. Science. Playing catch. Thunderstorms. Road trips. Painting. Taking pictures. 

What do you love?

                                      Every morning I wake up and hope that we'll be 

Because the thought of losing you is terrifying. 

17th Birthday

.....seventeen years have gone so fast...

So, another birthday rolls around. Here are seventeen things:

Things that I'm grateful for:

1. My family, who have always been there through everything.

2. My friends. From my new LV friends, to my best friend Emma, to Paige, who I've known since I was a baby, to bloggers, and everyone in between. You are all loved and appreciated.

3. Life in general. Seriously, every day I wake up is a gift from God.

4. That EJ is better after being sick for a month.

5. That I now have some direction in my life.

Five exciting things that happened this year:

6. I fell in love with theater, music and art all over again

7. I figured out where I'm going to college

8. I became a better skater.

9. I'm getting my braces off after three years 

10. I realized I can never please everybody, and I'm okay with that now.

Things I've learnt:

11. Everyone is a paper tiger

12. Monsters don't sleep under your bed. They sleep in your head.

13. There are so many kinds of beautiful

14. Sticks and stones will break my bones 

but words will only cause permanent psychological damage.

15. How horrible it is to love something death can touch

16. Chemistry is nothing to be laughed at

17. Happiness depends upon yourself

And right in this moment I think that it's perfectly safe to say that I am quite happy.