Everyone has a favorite day of the week. Mine just happens to be today, Thursday. Good stuff always happens on Thursdays. Snow storms that make thursday be the last day of the week, getting asked to the dance, rigging my boat, all have one thing in common. they're all good things. So today being a Thursday, I had to blog about it.
my usual reasons for liking thursdays: math pullout. i don't go to math pullout, but the people from Mr. Wessel's advisory come to our classroom for enrichment. Everyone always seems cheerier on thursdays. maybe they're just thinking to themselves, "let me get through one more day. there's one more day until friday, friday, gotta get down on friday!" there is a different light to the school on a thursday. it's almost like nothing can go wrong.
this morning i woke up at 5:50 on my own. no clock needed. but i turned around to read the clock and went back to sleep. at about 6:20 i hit my snooze button. then when i got up, and really didn't want to, i put on my uniform and straightened my hair. i looked at my clock and realized i was late. I went into the office to tell my dad we had to go. He slowly mozied out the door. driving slowly down mccarren. slowly down mayberry. slowly he pulled into swope. i got out and the bell rang. do much for meeting up with my friends this morning.
thursdays are fun, but its the people that make the day. we all need to live each day to the fullest. we need to work to cheer up someone's day, no matter how painful and dreading our day may be, that doesn't give us the right to ruin it for someone else.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
home sick
Have you ever missed something or someone so much you can't think straight? you seem dazed, and you feel sick to your stomach. people might send you home, but you know you haven't caught the new cold going around. You're homesick.
Being homesick doesn't necessarily mean your home sick for the current place you live, but instead the place where your family is, or where you desire to live. For me, its the beach. I used to live in Manhattan Beach. one mile from the shore, and the mall was walking distance away. The Mexican food was amazing, and the people were, well, the people were Californians. what can i say. It was a beach town. little cottages were a common sight, and the apartments were the college rooms. Everything was amazing, and the park was a perfect place for me to grow up. the yacht club wasn't far, and i would surf and sail. that was until my mom moved to Reno.
Good old Reno is the biggest little city in the world. at least that's what they say. to me, Reno is a giant fish bowl of captured goldfish. most of the fish have given up hope on making it back to the ocean. some of the fish like it there, and don't want to leave. ever heard of UNR? to me its a huge mouse trap. go there, and you're destined to live in Reno the rest of your life.
When i was in fourth grade, i left the country with my mom's side of the family to go to Italy. As soon as the plain landed, i wanted to move there. i begged my mom to buy a flat and a Vespa and i could finish school there. She, along with my grandparents laughed at me and said, "You can move back here after college." Way to be supportive of my dreams. then in sixth grade i left for Paris, France, and Barcelona, Spain. I fell in love with the city of love immediately. I never wanted to leave Saint Germain Blvd, and i wanted to dance all night long at the clubs. i wanted to walk down the streets of Paris, knowing i lived there. Spain was nice, but it didn't grab my heart. Winter of 2010 my family decided to take a trip all over Australia. Sydney was alright, Cairns (pronounced cans) was a bit too hot and touristy for my taste, but Tasmania.
Oh, Tasmania is the most gorgeous place i have visited my entire life. Launceston, Tasmania, is a sweet town. right on the harbor. big enough to have some tourists. It was alright, but not the city. Swansea, Tasmania was an adorable town. not a lot, but there was the most adorable cottages up for rent on the beach. then this brings me to Hobart. Hobart is the ending place in the famous Sydney to Hobart sailing race. the place where all the big boats doc, and fans like me get to admire in awe. the old book stores in the towns center, the smell of the cleanest air in the world. Fresh cough fish for sail on the Pier. Every thing was right. everything fit into its place. everything except me. When you find a place you know you belong, you don't want to leave. going on the trip to Australia, i wasn't expecting much. Kangaroos, boomerangs, wombats, and funny accents, right? wrong. my hearts was taken away be this one city. i wanted to stay there, to start a new life. Learn to sail, learn to surf, live the life i was supposed to in Manhattan Beach but missed. every morning i wake up to the sun and grass outside my window.
I didn't choose Reno. Reno chose me. I don't want Reno. and Reno doesn't want me. so why do i have such great friends here, but everything feels wrong? don't get me wrong, i don't regret any of my relationships, i just feel out of place here. when things don't go as planned, or when i get into a fight, i think about running away. about taking all the money out of my college fund (like there is any) and purchasing a one way ticket to Hobart International Airport and getting the hell away from my personal hell.
so when i turn eighteen, don't be surprised if i take a year before going to college and sailing to Clifton Beach, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia. it won't be long before i am reunited with the perfect sand and the perfect beach. if only i could take the perfect guy with me ;)
Being homesick doesn't necessarily mean your home sick for the current place you live, but instead the place where your family is, or where you desire to live. For me, its the beach. I used to live in Manhattan Beach. one mile from the shore, and the mall was walking distance away. The Mexican food was amazing, and the people were, well, the people were Californians. what can i say. It was a beach town. little cottages were a common sight, and the apartments were the college rooms. Everything was amazing, and the park was a perfect place for me to grow up. the yacht club wasn't far, and i would surf and sail. that was until my mom moved to Reno.
Good old Reno is the biggest little city in the world. at least that's what they say. to me, Reno is a giant fish bowl of captured goldfish. most of the fish have given up hope on making it back to the ocean. some of the fish like it there, and don't want to leave. ever heard of UNR? to me its a huge mouse trap. go there, and you're destined to live in Reno the rest of your life.
When i was in fourth grade, i left the country with my mom's side of the family to go to Italy. As soon as the plain landed, i wanted to move there. i begged my mom to buy a flat and a Vespa and i could finish school there. She, along with my grandparents laughed at me and said, "You can move back here after college." Way to be supportive of my dreams. then in sixth grade i left for Paris, France, and Barcelona, Spain. I fell in love with the city of love immediately. I never wanted to leave Saint Germain Blvd, and i wanted to dance all night long at the clubs. i wanted to walk down the streets of Paris, knowing i lived there. Spain was nice, but it didn't grab my heart. Winter of 2010 my family decided to take a trip all over Australia. Sydney was alright, Cairns (pronounced cans) was a bit too hot and touristy for my taste, but Tasmania.
Oh, Tasmania is the most gorgeous place i have visited my entire life. Launceston, Tasmania, is a sweet town. right on the harbor. big enough to have some tourists. It was alright, but not the city. Swansea, Tasmania was an adorable town. not a lot, but there was the most adorable cottages up for rent on the beach. then this brings me to Hobart. Hobart is the ending place in the famous Sydney to Hobart sailing race. the place where all the big boats doc, and fans like me get to admire in awe. the old book stores in the towns center, the smell of the cleanest air in the world. Fresh cough fish for sail on the Pier. Every thing was right. everything fit into its place. everything except me. When you find a place you know you belong, you don't want to leave. going on the trip to Australia, i wasn't expecting much. Kangaroos, boomerangs, wombats, and funny accents, right? wrong. my hearts was taken away be this one city. i wanted to stay there, to start a new life. Learn to sail, learn to surf, live the life i was supposed to in Manhattan Beach but missed. every morning i wake up to the sun and grass outside my window.
I didn't choose Reno. Reno chose me. I don't want Reno. and Reno doesn't want me. so why do i have such great friends here, but everything feels wrong? don't get me wrong, i don't regret any of my relationships, i just feel out of place here. when things don't go as planned, or when i get into a fight, i think about running away. about taking all the money out of my college fund (like there is any) and purchasing a one way ticket to Hobart International Airport and getting the hell away from my personal hell.
so when i turn eighteen, don't be surprised if i take a year before going to college and sailing to Clifton Beach, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia. it won't be long before i am reunited with the perfect sand and the perfect beach. if only i could take the perfect guy with me ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)