When I Grow Up

High school is a confusing time for everyone. You’re figuring out who you are and where you belong and what you’re supposed to be doing. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: you never actually figure it out. And maybe you’re not supposed to. In high school, few will figure out who they are, some will think they figure out who they are, but most will have no idea the entire time.

Most people think that freshmen are the most awkward ones—and it’s true. They have no idea what they’re doing. But most people forget that seniors are going through their own kind of transition.

Taylor Swift’s “22” perfectly describes the way I’m feeling as a senior. “We’re happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way. It’s miserable and magical, oh yeah.” We love being at the top of the school. Herds of seniors march through the hallways shouting the senior chant. We’re laughing harder and having more fun than ever, because we’re experiencing all of our “lasts.” With every fun experience we have in the back of our minds “Next year at this time, we’ll all be off at our own colleges with different people and new experiences.” While it lasts, this time is incredible. But it also sucks.

 A lot of us are over high school classes. We feel too old to be there, and we want to be doing something bigger. Taylor Swift may be singing “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22,” because she actually is 22, but for many senior girls, we’re singing along because we actually feel older than we are. We feel ready to move on.

People wonder why sometimes high school girls like older guys. But the older guys embody everything a senior year girl wants. They’re new, exciting, mature (well, arguably more mature than the guys fighting for naptime in first block). And they’re proof that there’s more to life than rooms filled with dry-erase boards and posters of Einstein.

I hate the saying “The youth is wasted on the young.” But sometimes I can’t help wondering if it’s true. We spend so much of youth wanting to grow up, and when we do, we want to turn back the years. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve celebrated my step mom’s 29^th birthday. Even I’ve wanted to be 17 since I was 10. And I thought that once I got to this age, I wouldn’t want to grow up. Yet I’ve spent the last few months wanting to be 18.

It doesn’t mean I’m unhappy with the present. I think we just always need something to look forward to, and once we get to a certain point in our lives we start realizing that we have less birthdays to look forward to. That’s not meant to sound morbid or pessimistic. It’s just the truth.

I will only be 17 for a few more months. I will only be a high school student until June. And I will only be alive once. So I plan on taking advantage of every single moment I have left of these days, because when I grow up, I want to good things to look forward to as well as to look back on.

“We’re happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way. It’s miserable and magical, oh yeah.”

Red

I have to admit that I had started getting sick of Taylor Swift. Her music was old, repeated and, frankly, annoying. How many times can we hear about your break-ups and relationships? But Red took things to a new level. She went from a whiny teenager to a strong, spunky 22-year-old.

My favorite lines in "State of Grace" are "These are the hands of fate. You're my Achilles heel. This is the gold age of something good and right and real." It's saying it's mean to be. You are my weakness. This is the time for us to be happy. These lyrics are sincere. They are powerful. And they are part of why I'm in love with this album. 

"Everything Has Changed" is her duet with Ed Sheeran. It is absolutely flawless. The acoustic guitar and light background music give it a raw sound. They sing "I just wanna know you better know you better know you better now." It's repeated many times throughout the song, and it's the part that always gets stuck in my head. 

"Red" is the song that gives the album its title. It compares loving a guy to the color red. The chorus is "Losing him was blue like I'd never known. Missing him was dark grey all alone. Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met. But loving him was red. Loving him was red." 

But my favorite song on the Red  is "22." "I don't know bout you but I'm feeling 22. Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you. You don't know about me. But I'll bet you want to. Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22." There are the traditional ages everyone wants to be. 16, 18, 21. And Taylor Swift has brought a whole new meaning to being 22. 

I have never been such a Taylor Swift fan. If you haven't heard any of her songs go get the album! I wish I could share more. You've probably heard "We're Never Getting Back Together" if anything. "I Knew You Were Trouble" is another one of my favorites. Just go listen to the whole thing. 

Pumpkins, Spice, and Everything Nice

Sometimes we all need a day of enjoying the fallish things (fall·ish adj. an acitivity that seems like something you would do in fall).

Any kind of Pumpkin drink is greatly welcomed. It's sweet. It's warm. It's fallish. It just feels right. We surround ourselves with the things that will make us feel comfortable. In the fall we want a warm sweater, a warm bevarage, and a warm setting to relax in. It's the season of comfort.

My favorite part is the sweaters and the scarves. At times, overheating is an issue, but being warm and being comfortable are often synomous feelings. I'm the girl who starts taking advantage of her car's seat heaters as soon as the air starts feeling crisper. I like sitting next to the fireplace with a good book and forgetting other things in life exist. Because in those moments, I feel completely at home.

 But as much as I love sitting next to the fireplace, my favorite place is my room. I have multicolored Christmas lights lining my ceiling. Every night, I crawl into my bed, plug in my lights, and forget about the rest of the world. It's the only place I am completely me. The pictures that cover the walls, the artwork that I created, the trophies and frames, they're all mine. I chose each photo for a specific reason. I painted each subject from my imagination. And I earned every award displayed.

My room is not only a reflection of a my past, but also a physical model of my personality. It shows my quirks. It shows my ability to create. And it shows my constant struggle with keeping everything in my life organized.

So on these fallish days, if I'm not out tugging on Apple trees or raking up endless piles of leaves, I'm likely snuggling with a paperback and a warm cup of something pumpkin flavored in my comfort of my own bedroom.

The Perks of Being a Writer

Dear friend,

Do you ever feel like something came into your life at just the right time? Like if it had come at any other time it wouldn’t have had the same impact on you? It’s like the forces of the universe conspired to make the impossible feel possible. And you don’t realize how much you needed that thing to happen until it does, because when it does you wonder how you ever lived without it.

Tonight I learned something about life. While we’re in certain situations, they can seem like they will last forever and nothing will ever get better. But that’s just not true . There was a time when I wanted to give up because it didn’t seem like a damn thing in my life mattered. And it didn’t seem like anybody really cared. Eventually I realized that life could get better and that a lot of people cared. And I’ve seen a thousand movies, heard a million stories, and read about just about every painful situation,  but it wasn’t until tonight that I realized how much life can turn around.

I’ve been in a good mood for a solid month. I don’t know what changed in my life—a lot of things I guess. But I didn’t think being this happy was possible; it just happened. And tonight I was so excited to see The Perks of Being  a Wallflower. I’m absolutely in love with the book, and I knew I was going to love the movie. But I never expected it to change my life. I sat there tapping my friend throughout the movie going “I love this so much!” And by the end of the movie I had my knees to my chest and I was hugging my purse as I tried to hold back my tears. And as they fell from my eyes, I just left them there because I couldn’t let anyone see that I was actually crying.

All I kept thinking was This is the best movie I’ve ever seen. And maybe it was. But maybe it just came to me at the right time, because maybe I just needed to see it now.

I feel like I was starting to give up on being a writer, because it just didn’t seem possible.  I couldn’t figure out how I was going to make a career out of it. While we consider it an occupation, there’s no crazy plucking away at a type-writer at the college fairs. There are hospitals for doctors. There are labratories for scientists. There are schools for teachers. But where are the messy corners with scattered papers that writers work in? I feel like I don’t know where I belong.

And I don’t know where I’ll end up. And I don’t know what I’ll be. And I don’t know why bad things happen or why we can’t save other people. (If that seems random or you don't get, it's because you haven't seen The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I can't explain it, because you must watch it.)

All I know is right now, in this moment, I feel infinite.

Love always,

Taylor

P.S. Even if I don't make a career out of writing, I am, and always will be, a writer.

I Wanna Go Dumpster Diving

No, I’m not crazy—I promise. Ok, I might be slightly eccentric, but that has nothing to do with my sudden urge to dig through garbage. While other people in my grade are recovering from homecoming and parties, I’m spent yesterday afternoon in a Caribou with one of my best friends applying to college. My version of announcing I drank too much was the result of finishing off a Carmel Northern Lite Latte and a glass of water, and I am not ashamed to admit that—in fact, I’m proud.

I decided to do some research to help write one of my personal statements for one of my applications, and I found some pretty interesting organizations at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. With a whopping 801 organizations, they offer clubs like the “Anthropology Circle”, the “Archery Club”,  “Badgers Wear TOMS”, “Bucky Buddhists for Peace” and, of course, the “Dumpster Diving Revolution.”

Wait, what? Madison is saying that they support their students sifting through trash as an organized activity. That was my initial reaction, but digging further into the situation showed me there was more beyond the surface of their project. These kids aren’t just poor college students who look for other people’s leftovers.

These students want to reduce the amount of garbage that goes into landfills and increase the amount of donations that go to families in need.

I’m impressed. 

Jelly Bellies, School Spirit, and Cold Weather

Today's is homecoming! There's so much to look forward to in so little time.

Our school halls will be filled with senior girls in tutus and gold leggings, boys in football jerseys, and the rest of us in mediocre school spirit attire.

My inherent lack of school spirit is not intentional. I just didn't get a football superfan shirt, and I don't feel the need to wear a tutu ever again. I wasn't crazy about them when I was five. But that doesn't mean I didn't try to have school spirit. I dressed up every other day this week. And I am even wearing a football t shirt from my school--even though it's gray.

After school I'll rush to the homecoming parade where I'll be dressed as a bag of Jelly Bellies. How does that work? I'm going to be wearing a trash bag full of balloons with a sign that says "Jelly Belly." It sounded like a better idea in theory. But the theme is candy so I had to get creative.

I'm most excited for the homecoming game tonight. Originally I wasn't going to go because I'm taking the SAT tomorrow. But in a year of lasts, how could I miss out on such an important part of high school?

I'm not going to miss out on my last year.

JGL on SNL. OMG

As if this weekend could have gotten any better, my favorite actor hosted Saturday Night Live. I have the biggest crush on Joseph Gordon-Levitt, so you can imagine my excitement when he tweeted about coming on SNL.

I am not exaggerating when I call this the best SNL monologue of all times. I thought guys couldn't get any better than Channing Tatum in Magic Mike. That was until I saw Joseph-Gordon Levitt give his Magic Mike  performance. As much love as I have for Channing, no one can compare with JGL. In the words of Steve Carrell's character in Crazy. Stupid. Love., he is just the perfect combination of sexy and cute.

I have to admit that Joe sure had his awkward years earlier on. But with any love, you have to overlook certain things. Some people have to forget that the object of their affection had long hair in high school. Or that one of his or her feet is bigger than the other. Or that he/she use the word impactful. Ever. (If you don't know the problem with that, I'll let you off the hook this time. But every grammar nerd who read that sentence cringed a little.)Whoever loves me in the future might have to overlook my obsession  fascination with Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

I have this theory that if we actually have soulmates, they appreciate at least two main things that we do. If my theory is correct, my soulmate owns at least one Jason Mraz CD, and he has seen Inception more than once.


It could easily be this guy.

If you only learn one thing, learn to live.

It’s amazing the effect other people can have on us. Another human being can change the way we think about everything from a piece of literature to our outlook on life. Our friends can affect the way we dress or talk or tell stories. Our parents help shape our personality, manners, and general views on life. Our teachers show us not only how to make a living, but also how to make a life.

Recently, I interviewed a former teacher for a faculty profile story in journalism. I asked him about things like what affects his teaching, why he tells stories, and even, if there was a teacher that had a particular effect on him either in high school or college. His answers made me even more confident in my decision to interview him. He said “He embodied everything I admired not only in a teacher but in a person” about his 11^th grade U.S. History teacher. That is how I feel about him. And every other communications teacher I have had in high school.

He was my teacher for 9^th grade honors communications and again, in 10^th grade, for American Literature. His classes changed my perspective about life and who I was as an individual. When he told me that one of his reasons for telling stories was to show he was a teenager once too, everything made sense. They really helped us open up and unite as a class.

My 10^th grade communications teacher was also my grammar teacher in 11^th grade, and as a senior, I have her for world literature. The teacher I interviewed asked how I felt about having a teacher that many times, and I told him the truth. I am overjoyed to have her a third time. Even today after school, I realized how lucky I am to have her as a teacher. After three years together, we have the most amazing teacher-student relationship. I feel that I can ask her anything about school, but I can also share my excitement or fear or anxiety about things other than school.

I feel the same way with my AP Language and Composition teacher from 11^th grade. Last Friday, while every other high school student leapt out the door to the weekend, I stayed to catch up with her. After AP Comp I was her teacher’s assistant for a term. It gave me the opportunity to get to know her better. We talked about everything from college to preparing for a career in writing. She encouraged my passion for writing and made me even more exciting about it. For that, I will be forever grateful.

And because writing teachers happen to be the best kind, I have to tell you about my creative writing teacher from last year. At first, I felt a little bit intimidated, and I didn’t really know what to think of her. But as the semester progressed, I realized how much she helped improve my writing and the way I looked it. After AP Comp, I felt so much more prepared. But this was a different type of writing, and there is still so much to learn in fictional writing and non-fiction writing. Most importantly, my creative writing teacher made me stop limiting myself. I would say “Well, I’d love to do this, but—” And she’d say “Why? Why can’t you do that?” She inspired me to go after what I love and not let myself hold myself back.

High school has been such an incredible experience because of these teachers. I wanted to give them the credit, because, after all, without them, where would I be? I wouldn’t have the knowledge. I wouldn’t have the writing skills. I wouldn’t have the courage to go after my dreams.

These people mean the world to me.