Homecoming

After a stressful, less-than-fun day at school, I was not looking forward to the homecoming game. At all. In my previous blog posts, I discussed my social situation [or lack thereof] and my stress of trying to have fun at this momentous event in my senior year. 

Well, tonight I learned that old friends are golden friends, and that some people are just inherently good. 

My friends from middle school are the sweetest, smartest, prettiest, kindest girls I know, and throughout high school we have kind of drifted. I explored new groups of friends and they stuck together. 

At homecoming, these girls took me in and it was as if nothing had changed. We were laughing until we cried, eating really unhealthy food, and just being the weird kids we always were. It was fantastic. I haven't acted like myself as much as I did tonight. I felt so very alive.

So my advice to you, reader, is never burn bridges. That key group of friends will always be there for you, even if months and years go by since you have talked to them. They will always be the best friends you can possibly have [in my case at least] and won't judge you for anything. Never cut connections because you never know when you will be back with those first friends, the people there for you since the beginning. 

xxx

[pictures will be posted asap, I used film that needs to be developed]

pressure

They say you can't have too much of a good thing. I have to disagree. What if the good things cause stress and headaches and tears even though you know it will be worth it in the end?

The pressure's on.
college, work, yearbook, homework, family time, social life.
work work work.
you can't escape it because it's always hovering.
you can't sleep because you are thinking.
thinking thinking thinking.
you can't focus because every other little stress is coming down on you.
hard.
and your back hurts and you head hurts and your heart hurts because you have too much of a good thing.
there's no time.
time time time.
no time in the day to fit every little thing in. 
no time in your life to be on top of your game. 
no time for productive writing of essays.
no time to sit around and let your ideas float around on a page.
no time to get homework done early and efficiently.
no time to eat family dinner, watch family movies, or take part in the family jokes. 
no time to have friends.
I'm up late every night. Not because I'm being productive. It's because my stress migraines won't cease and my mind is a static television screen. Fuzzy and loud and full of pieces of random information. stresses. 

so here's the thing: this is not healthy. it just isn't. so I have found things that make me feel better. less stressed. more relaxed. truly at peace with myself. I urge you to do the same. 

• go to bed earlier.
• find something that brings you to peace within yourself [vinyasa yoga is my new obsession, an hour of freedom from myself]
• read a book. for pleasure, not for school. My English teacher and I have been exchanging favorite books back and forth, and it's really brought me to a pleasant state of mind.
• let things go. sometimes you just have to skip out on studying for a quiz. occasionally take a long nap. sleep in. eat ice cream if you feel like it. you'll be a happier person, I promise. 

xxx

included below are pictures of things that make me happy and stress free. take lots of pictures of happy things so when you flip through your phone you can have reasons to smile. 

Dr. Deen

He wore snakeskin boots and giant belt buckles. His house was full of ivory and gold and quartz. His salt and pepper hair smelled strong of cologne. His dark skin resembled our leather recliner. He always came over bearing mangoes and beautiful ceramic gifts for my sisters and I. His thick Indian accent was inimitable and his laugh was contagious. His 89 year old little body was a powerhouse. Short, stocky, and full of life, he was a successful opthomalogist. He refused to ever stop seeing patients until he was completely unable to work. He was my father's mentor, his partner, and his best friend. He started their practice decades before my father was born. He loved our family more than anything, but we were never allowed to call him "Chris." He was Dr. Deen. He was one of the first people to hold us as newborns. He danced at every Bat Mitzvah, celebrated every birthday, and never missed a beat. He had an iPhone before I did. He has never had anything alcoholic to drink. He raised his grandsons. He was definitely the coolest 89 year old around. He never stopped running. 
Until this weekend.
He wasn't feeling too well, so he checked himself into the immediate care clinic at the building in which he worked. They examined him, ran some tests, and put him in a room because he tested positive for Pneumonia. He figured it was nothing and wasn't worried at all. He tried to sleep it off and get better as soon as possible.
Now he's in the ICU and is having great trouble with his lungs.
My dad said he's not getting better. He visited Dr. Deen multiple time throughout the past couple days and I haven't seen him so sad since his own grandfather passed away. 
Seeing people like Dr. Deen grow old and sick and sad makes me feel older than ever. Dr. Deen was always around, but life is short and people pass on. I am older too. My parents are growing older. My sisters are no longer cute little kids and my biggest worries are not about petty things anymore. Dr. Deen is living proof of living life to its fullest. He teaches a good lesson to everyone about how to take every minute you have, do what you love, and be satisfied in the end. 
I am not a very spiritual person, but if you could include Dr. Deen in your prayers tonight, it'd mean a ton to my family and his.
xxx

insight from the outside [of the cliques]

I have friends at school. I know I do. In every class, I never have the problem of being alone because I'm relatively friendly and outgoing when I feel like it. I say hello to acquaintances in the hallway. I do have lots of friends. My problem, however, is that I have no friend "groups." I don't have a central "clique" of friends [my main group went away to college]. This never really bothered me yet this year because I am very independent and I don't feel that I need people around me to be secure. 
Well now it is starting to bother me. Whether it is the stress of not being able to put a funny nickname on the back of my Senior Girls t-shirt [why would I put something that no one else will find funny or "inside"?] or the sadness that comes along with going to my senior homecoming without any senior friends, I just feel a little bit empty. Like my senior year isn't worth as much. It's sad to think that I might leave high school without a close group of friends my own age. Or that I probably won't go to any of the four school dances. Or that I am a part of this group that is notoriously close [publications] but even though I am an editor, I am not really a member of the exclusive "group." I have friends all over, but they each have their own "groups." And there's me. I eat lunch alone every single day. I don't make plans on the weekends. I make myself very busy so I don't have to think about the empty inbox in my text messages or the silence I face when I walk into the publications room every morning. I wander from friend to friend, but at the end of the day, they all go back to their little groups and I go home and eat chocolate and geek out over graphic design and literature. I hope this is not how I end up at the end of the year. I hope that I look back at this with some sort of "group" and laugh at how lonely and sad I was. I hope that maybe I will become less unliked [for no reason]. I hope that maybe, at some point, I have fun [socially] my senior year. If not, I might just go insane. 
xxx