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

The happiest I've ever been

Have you ever been so happy you could cry?

When we won the first place trophy for dance team in 8th grade, I cried. When I learned that I was editor-in-chief, I cried. When I talk on the phone with long-lost friends, I cry.

But today was different. Nothing particularly good happened. In fact, I had a day filled with frustration and stress. But after an encouraging meeting after school with my yearbook advisers [the two most amazing women you could possibly imagine] I went home elated. 

I finished up my homework and ran straight to my room to work on yearbook pages, a project that has been looming over my head since the summer. I turned on my newly perfected Spotify "happy" playlist, painted my nails with my all-time favorite color [Chinchilly, by Essie] and plugged in the twinkle lights in my room. I surrounded myself with beautiful design inspiration and got to work. My room was full of good music and pretty lights and yummy scents [I used my favorite Rosebud salve] and I was just perfectly content with my life, my work, and my frame of mind.

And I started to cry. I cried because I am so lucky to have such an amazing job. I cried because I imagined myself doing the same thing in a dorm room at my dream school a year from now. I cried because I have parents who will support me in anything I do in my life. I cried because my little sisters were so cute and kept visiting me and dancing to the music I was playing, even if they didn't like Joy Division and The Wombats. I cried because tomorrow I get to spend three hours aiding for the coolest English teacher in the world. I cried because my friends who are away at college haven't forgotten about me, and kept sending me pictures and videos of themselves. I cried because I was, for the first time in so long content with my life, my grades, my friends [or lack there of] and my choices. 

Some day, I recommend you just surround yourself with happy things and be productive in what you love best. For me, it was journalism. For you, maybe it's art or music or sports. Being so happy that you cry is the strangest, most emotional thing you'll experience in a while. My Spanish teacher told us today that she hates people who are always happy. But I can't help myself this year. I just feel so happy to finally be happy. 

xxx

Northwest Indiana dreams

This past weekend I've spent a ton of time slaving away at my college applications as well as trying to wrap my head around the gigantic yearbook I am in charge of. These two don't sound like they'd go hand in hand, but they really do. Trying to apply to college [for you innocent souls who have not gotten to this point in your lives yet] is like trying to juggle a billion things into a perfect little song and dance that will impress the admissions counselor. You need the sparkling transcript, jaw-dropping test scores, and a list of extracurricular activities that stretches for miles. You need to have a rough enough life to get sympathy but not too rough to look like you complain a ton. You need to be well rounded in academics, sports, clubs, arts, but have time to "be yourself." You need alumni relatives and something really cool about your life. Oh, and you have to explain it all in a "short personal essay." Yeah, it's a lot. But once you get into the school of your choice, you can relax and reap the benefits of your hard work.

But yearbook is the same way. There is so much to do. There are huge sets of pages that need to be thought of, designed, filled in, and perfected within a few weeks of each deadline. There are InDesign skills that still have to be learned. You have to make sure the staffers know what they're doing [even if you don't]. You need to fake it until you make it because you never want to come across ignorant about something you are so passionate about. You need to prove all the people wrong who thought you could never do it better than them. You need to please every student from athlete to actress to teacher to principal to random kid who picks his nose. Oh, did I mention that there are 3000+ STUDENTS. Yeah, that too. But you love it. You love coming up with ideas and working and working and working until it's perfect. You love managing a staff of 74, even if you want to crawl under your desk and cry sometimes. You love working in a professional setting because a newsroom is your home and future career. You just love it. And once the book is published, you can relax and reap the benefits of your hard work.

See how that works out?

xxx

Senior Year

To be completely honest, I was dreading the first day of school. dreading it. I wasn't nervous for my classes [okay, maybe AP English] and I wasn't stressed about seeing my friends throughout the day. I was scared because I knew once senior year started, it would go by so fast. And it already has been.

I love school. I really do, and knowing that this is my last year freaks me out because of how comfortable I have become with my teachers, my classes, and my friends. 

For my own sake, I wanted to review my classes as I know them now [three days into the year] so that when I do my final review at the end of the year, I [and you, reader] can laugh at how incredibly naive I am.

xxx

Spanish IV Honors: After AP Spanish got cut, I was a little upset to have Mrs. Laskey as my teacher. I had only heard negative things about her, and I was not very pleased going in. In the first five minutes of the class, however, she was cracking dry, Spanish jokes and sharing hilarious stories about her days as a shoe saleswoman. We had a quiz assigned as well as some practice assignments, but it was nothing bad. I have a feeling that after this year, I will be closer to my goal of complete fluency. 

Forensics: Walking into class, I was told to write my name, grade, and "hobbie" on a note card. The silly spelling error summed up the entire class. The students are all either drug addicts, bubbly, dumb girls, or stuck up jockey boys who are too cool to do their homework [so they copy mine]. The teacher, Mrs. Thomas, is very sweet and passionate about science, but is not the most eloquent with her words. If she spoke to us in a different way, I would have a much better impression of her. I feel almost insulted with the way she has to talk to down to the less intelligent students. It's sad. Forensic Science is a very interesting, complicated field, and I just hope the class allows me to explore the topic further in depth. 

Publications: The chaotic class of 72 greatly intimidated me the first day, but after presenting my yearbook theme [I'm the editor in chief] and paying for my staff's love with cookies, I think I'm on the right track. I got a ton of positive feedback [and some negative] and it just makes me feel so good to know that other people support my ideas. My advisers are absolutely amazing and supportive and I love every second of that class. My little sister is on my staff, and it makes it that much more fun. 

AP Stats: My teacher, Mr. Fox is the coolest guy around. I had him for Algebra II Honors sophomore year, but I dropped it when my grade neared the dreaded "C." Now I'm back for this class, and he didn't seem to hold any grudge and welcomed me into class. It's going to be a challenging one, but I think the new form of math will come easier to me. It's a ton of cool labs and creative project displays, which I am looking forward to. 

AP English: This class is so hard to describe. I don't even know where to start. I walked into the small classroom that was covered from floor to ceiling with pictures of students. My teacher rose from his desk [obscured by bookshelves] and strided to the front of the class, his long, white hair flowing behind him. He talked and joked and insulted us multiple times. He is the single hardest person to read. He spoke so eloquently, I was taken aback. I have a good feeling about this class. I am terrified of the 3000 page textbook and ridiculous grading tactics, but excited nonetheless. 

Study Hall: I was originally in the wood shop room with 40 other annoying kids, but I am now aiding for my all time favorite teacher, Mrs. Clark. What a perfect arrangement. 

I think senior year is going to be perfect. 

My sister, Rachel, and I on the first morning of school. 

Lollapalooza

This weekend, I spent three days in Grant Park at the Lollapalooza music festival. I would have to say it was definitely one of the best weekends of my life. My original plans fell through, but after meeting up with a good friend of mine, I ended up having a blast. This would be a long and boring blog post if I went on and on, so I decided to review each of the bands I saw as well as post some pictures from the highlights. I've never written a music review before, so please go easy on me. 
xxx

Day One
The Neighborhood: The lead singer failed at being "gangster" and the bass was way too loud. I knew one song and the vulgar language just turned me off. I was glad for it to be over and to get out of the sweltering heat and beating sun that Petrillo stage offered no relief from. Not the best start to the weekend, but trust me, it got way better.
Crystal Castles: The show began with Alice Glass staggering onto the stage with a bottle of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She began to scream and moan into the microphone while Ethan Kath's more subtle self drummed along to the electronic beat. After the show started, I couldn't keep my eyes off of Alice. She was strangling herself with the microphone cord and jumping into the crowd and falling to the ground. She was crazy cool. The overcast midday sky, however, did not fit the feeling of the show.
Smith Westerns: Despite ten minutes of technical delay, the quartet's retro sound seemed to get the crowd's attention back. I had never listened to the band, but the 70s feel got me hooked, and I really enjoyed the set. 
Lana Del Rey: My ethereal queen rose to the stage in a gorgeous, flowing dress and a [very expected] flower crown. Her voice filled the crowd [who were packed like sardines]. She was absolutely perfect. The crowd, however, was not. I witnessed one asthma attack, two fainters, and a ton of little kids who couldn't breathe because they were too short to get air in the crowd. The teeny-bopping girls in crop tops [aka everyone] sang along and it was truly beautiful. I would pay a ton of money to see her in the flesh again. Her speaking voice was as angelic as her lyrics were genius. 

Day Two
Shovels and Rope: Cary Ann Hearst asks us if we believe in love. A man kneels to the ground and pops the question to his unknowing girlfriend. I cry a little. The show was elevated, and I felt so warm and fuzzy inside. The duo [adorable husband and wife Carrie Ann and Michael Tandem] effortlessly switch from harmonica to guitar to drums to keyboard to tambourines and I was more appreciative of music than I ever had been before.They played as if the had nothing to lose and everything to prove. 
Wild Cub: The Nashville quintet sounded like every other indie-gritty band but a little bit worse. The loud drums and soft singing was really annoying. We left two songs in. 
Ellie Goulding: Ellie's late afternoon set was incredibly crowded, but was fun nevertheless. Her soul/electronica sounding voice loops made me realize how her music could possibly be performed live. Even though the very electronic sound and strangely computerized-sounding drums, Ellie made her music feel human. Especially during "Anything Could Happen," when she belted it out. Ellie can't dance for her life, but it was fun to see her in that element. Setting the Molly-popping, drunk, frat boys aside, we enjoyed her show quite a bit.
Mumford and Sons: After waiting for an hour and befriending the friendly drunks around us, my friend and I had finally gotten pretty close to the stage at Hutchinson Park. They didn't seem like a headlining band, but it was regardless an amazing show. The acapella harmonies and gimmick-free performance made the British folk band seem so incredibly real. I ended up on this guy's shoulders, and seeing Marcus Mumford jamming out from above the crowd was one of the coolest things I've ever done. The two hour show went by quickly, and i was sad it was over. Aside from the noise leak from Perry's DJ, the show was very, very well done.

Day Three
Guards: The New York quintet opened the show with an energizing guitar start that woke everyone up. We were second row, jammed out the whole time. Richie Follin told us about his first concert experience at the 1996 Lollapalooza, and how we were making his dream a reality. At the end of the show, he handed out giant balloons and we discovered what it sounds like when a guitar is rubbed against cymbal. [the result was pretty awesome] 
Jake Bugg:The folky teen started his set the same the way he ended it: with a blank stare and a strong voice. His raw sound rang about, and he seemed to truly play from his soul. He didn't stop his stream of song unless he was switching a guitar, and he seemed to milk every second he had on the Petrillo stage. I only knew a handful of his songs, but I am glad I got a chance to see him. He's one of those performers that I can imagine still sounding the same 20 years from now. 
The Mowgli's: The California band played the smallest stage with the biggest crowd. The eight members sounded like a bunch of cool kids sitting around a campfire as opposed to clashing harmonies, as I expected from a big band. We only stayed for a couple songs [the crowd was ridiculous] but later that night, I called the 800 number listed on their poster. "Are you a Mowgli?" its said. I called, and after a bit of waiting, they answered!!! They asked me if I was at their show, if I played music, and if I had a good time. What an unforgettable experience.
The Vaccines: After waiting for an hour or so, my friend and I were front row to see Justin Young and the Vaccines, our favorite band. We screamed every lyric as they opened with "Blow it Up" and a personal favorite "Teenage Icon." Being so close felt almost unreal, and [almost] making eye contact with Justin Young was a highlight of the weekend. I wish I could see them again and again and again. 
Vampire Weekend: We missed the beginning of the show due to our amazing time at The Vaccines, but when we finally got there, we had the time of our lives. We screamed every word to the lyrics that were dotted with references to the band's posh past [even though they were wearing jeans. jeans.] Donning our super-cute Vampire Weekend tees, we became popular with the crowd, which is always a good time. The band turned the park into a beautiful blue-skied dream with the gorgeous new songs like "Everlasting Arms." 
2 Chainz: We were not present for most of the concert, but we walked into the park as the rapper was playing the wildly inappropriate song "R.I.P." Me and Emma twerked, impressed some other white girls, and left. We had a good time seeing 2 Chainz in the flesh. 

My cute bandeau top turned into a sunburn nightmare. Way. To. Go. 

This end of the park had such an amazing view of the Museum Campus and the city itself. 

Lana Del Rey, walking out onto the stage for the first time. She is the most angelic woman I have ever seen in the flesh. 

Emma and I got Original Rainbow Cone twice. It was layered with chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, cherry, almond, and orange ice cream. I think could eat soley that for the rest of my life.

Mumford and Sons totally rocked it. 

Our giant sunglasses turned us into cute little Lolla bugs. 

The water sold at Lolla was too trendy for me. 

We were thrilled to be at Vampire Weekend. Smiles were had by all in attendance. 

The Vaccines were absolutely incredible. What a fun show.  

Emma and I are cuties. [or self obsessed. One of those two] 

Peace out Lolla, it's been real. 

Cousins

This weekend, all the girl cousins on my mom's side stayed together in Lauren's [the oldest cousin] apartment in Chicago. There were six of us staying in the Lakeview apartment [we kicked Lauren's boyfriend out] and we couldn't have had a better time. We are rarely together at the same time because of differences in college breaks, jobs, etc., and this weekend we got so lucky to all be together. 
Lauren planned fun filled days for us, and we really bonded as a family. We went out for sushi, saw a Second City [comedy] show, went to a street market, and shopped like it was nobody's business. [all of my older cousins have an impeccable sense of style] We reminisced about our past memories and talked about the other family members. We discussed college and marriage and everything in between. We talked about our ill grandfather and our deceased grandmother and all the fond memories we have of them. We laughed until we cried and we came up with some really memorable inside jokes. 
I think spending time with people who share such a similar upbringing is necessary in everyone's life. In my cousins I can totally see the morals that my grandparents instilled in our parents, who instilled them in us. We all have a dry[ish] sense of humor, have an interest in style, work hard, and enjoy cottage cheese. We like searching for good deals, walking off our meals, and Instagramming everything around us to capture the moment. We like watching funny movies and playing Catchphrase at 10 in the morning. It's crazy to me how similar relatives can be, but I totally love it. I love seeing how [even hundreds of miles apart] we are so alike. Family values are important, and it makes me glad to know that our family's future is safe with the "super sexy six." [what my 14 year old sister named our little posse] 

[from left to right] Elly, Rachel, me, Julie, Amy, Lauren

Lauren and I on the bus [the main form of transportation for the weekend]

Our little posse at the Second City show at the UP comedy club

The cousins [including Brian, Lauren's brother, and Mark, Lauren's boyfriend] out to brunch this morning at Anne Sathers

Ball State Journalism Workshops

I made it. It's crazy for me to say this, because at the beginning of with week I was scared and unsure and doubtful. How can I possibly be editor-in-chief of a 300 page book when I know absolutely nothing about ladder planning and endsheets and chronological organization? 
This week I spent my time at a 5-day journalism workshop on the Ball State campus. I was there with both of my advisers and 18 other staff members. We learned and learned and worked crazy hard and ate cafeteria junk food and played volleyball and took selfies and worked even more. I was pushed to my very breaking point by two of the most amazing teachers, Nancy Hastings and Nicole Wilson.
I was in a class with 28 other editors-in-chief where we learned about everything from leadership to theme development to design to staff management. We created our yearbooks from the bottom up and learned life lessons along the way. 
Our class was discussion heavy, and the comments and suggestions from other editors helped me really build the plans that we are evolving into a yearbook. 
I also learned important life lessons from my amazing advisers. From my experience at Ball State, I learned the importance of confident body language and the necessary trait of doing publications to produce a piece of art, not to please others or gain friends. I have developed into a powerful, productive, professional leader and I believe that is all it takes to make an award-winning yearbook. 
Events like these make me confident in not only where I fit in at my high school, but where I will end up in the future. People like Wad and VP [fabulous advisers/yearbook extraordinares] and Mrs. Hastings make me feel that this was my calling. And I love every bit of it.
xxx 

One of my lovely advisers, Wad. She has ghosts in her house, is addicted to chewing ice, and has a daughter who thinks she's Snow White. 

My Yearbook Leaders [YBK] class photo. How original/adorable/awesome are we?

[most of] the staff that came to the workshops. We are such a dysfunctional family and even though we fight and laugh and cry, we are still as close as ever. I love being around people who share a love for something so beautiful [yearbook]