Life is a beautiful mess. It is full of pain, suffering, joy, and happiness. There is destruction and there is creation. Life is full of ups and downs. It’s beautiful though. It’s knowing that although it is terrible, there is good. It’s knowing that people come together in the hardest times to create something new, to bring hope. It’s sloppy and dirty but is also clean and tidy. Life’s mess inspires inspiration and innovation. It paves a path for the next generations to do more, to be better than their ancestors. To restore the beautiful mess that was given to them, and make something out of it. Life is a mess- a chaotic mess of the good, the bad, and the ughh. A mess that needs to clean up, but also left alone. It’s nothing but a beguiling, convoluted, destructive, amusing thing. It’s beautiful, that’s what life is, a beautiful mess.
I love love. I love the little things like the post-its I use in stats or how I can recognize moon phases thanks to astronomy. I love how drawers close after one push and it’s silent. I love how big my new water bottle is. I also love the big stuff like how my dad texts me every morning or how my grandparents drive up to Ojai on the weekend to pick me up. I love how the earth smells after it rains or when the sun peaks through the clouds. I love when my earbuds are at the perfect volume- not too loud but not too quiet. I love how my family prays to my grandpa every time we eat together because we know he is watching over us. I love how my friends who are miles away send me photos of their days. I love how my family plays hand and foot for hours and we just laugh and shuffle decks of cards. I love my collection of cards from my loved ones that I’ve hoarded since I was younger. I love my summer memories of driving through Ojai with my favorite person. I love listening to a new song and adding it immediately to a playlist. I love my mom, even though we have our troubles, she is there for me even when she cannot be there physically. I love my sister, she is my best friend and greatest rival. I love cats, and how they are so particular about people. I love the feeling of a nice hot shower after a cold day. there is so much to love. I love dancing in the mirror to 2000s pop music. I love flowers and how beautiful they smell. I love my friends. I love reading and crying about the characters. I love talking about love and all there is to love.
There is something so relieving about crying. Something about breaking down, being able to let all the floodgates open, it is just so satisfying. You no longer have to be an atlas, finally able to put down the weight of the world. Being able to release all the negative energy and take a breath of fresh air. There is something about the beautiful essence of the silent tears rolling down your face, crying in solitude. It’s a time of reflection. A time to look back at what made you cry in the first place and see if it was worth the tears. And sometimes it’s just a cry, with no rhyme or reason.
I love the feeling of being able to listen to music, or the rain and cry. The deep breaths, the salty tears, and closed eyes are something so mundane but yet so beautiful. The streaks on your face show that you’ve worked through something, and the red eyes show that you were able to see through the thing at hand and put it into perspective. The final tremble in your voice and body shows that you are finally at peace. The selfies in your camera roll show that you made light of something that just seemed so detrimental.
The final wipe is a triumph. You made it through the journey. You are ready to go on with your day, you might cry again later, but for now, you are okay. The cry was beautiful, you let down your shield for a little bit, and now you have to put your armor back up and brave the day.
Everyone has that one person who propels you forward, who supports you when times get tough and it seems like you are drowning. To me, that person is Dravin. She has been my life preserve, my oxygen mask. I do not think she knows how much she has changed my life, how much she means to me.
Dravin helped me when no one did. She helped that young 10-year-old who thought life was not worth it and made it her mission to make sure it was. She helped that twelve-year-old girl who almost let the bullies win. She helped that fourteen-year-old who moved away because she knew it was best for herself. She helped that sixteen-year-old try and gather the pieces of a broken relationship. She helped that almost eighteen-year-old with her first breakup and told her that life will go on even if it does not feel like it right now.
From the beginning, she was the most understanding soul. She would give me paint and crayons and tell me to “create masterpieces for me,” so that my mind was at ease. She knew how hard it was for me to express my feelings, so she distracted me. She created this safe space for me. A place where I could speak freely without any judgment. A place where I could have a shoulder to cry on. Even when she was with her family, she would take my calls and help me with my breathing.
Dravin saved me. I owe my life to her, but I know that she would just say that she is doing her job.
There is something so dauntingly beautiful about the word death. It is a term that means the end, but I do not think that is entirely true. I do not believe in god or heaven and hell, but I believe that the soul lives on. They protect and look over their loved ones. The souls of our lost ones can be seen in the cotton candy sunsets or in little insects that fly onto our shirts.
Death is sad, very sad, but it can also be something to appreciate. I can find peace that my grandfather’s body is laid to rest, no longer having to fight the arduous battle of poisonous cancer, but instead, his soul is with us whenever we gather as a family to eat. I can find peace that my Grandma Bobby is once again with her husband that passed many years before her. I know that my cousin is fishing with his dog and is enjoying a cold one. I know that my best friend, Little, is enjoying her cat naps in the sun rays that peak through the window panes.
Death still makes me weep and cry, but it also gives me a certain comfort. A comfort that when I or another loved one dies, I know that there will be peace. Whether it is surrounded by family enjoying delicious homecooked meals or by myself relaxing in a tube in Spring Creek, I know that death will be kind.
Many people dislike or even hate eggplant, but I think eggplant is good when cooked right. And the dish that I think is cooked correctly is the eggplant casserole that my grama makes.
Gretchen Schuette, my grandma, wrote down her mom’s eggplant casserole and it is delicious. It is the perfect balance of eggplant and tomato. The grated cheese on top is the perfect way to finish the dish.
Ingredients:
1 medium-size eggplant
3 tbsp. butter
3 tbsp. flour
1 can tomatoes or 2 cups of fresh tomatoes
1 chopped small green pepper
1 small onion, chopped
1 tsp. salt
1 tbsp. brown sugar
Grated cheese
photo credit: Medical News today
Recipe:
Dice eggplant and cook for 10 minutes in boiling water.
In another pan, melt butter and blend with flour.
(Cook on low heat for 3 minutes if you use whole wheat flour.)
Add the rest of the ingredients (except eggplant).
Cook sauce for 5 minutes.
Mix together the sauce and the eggplant and put in a casserole.
Cover with grated cheese and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.
Cake is just too much. Too much frosting (I’m allergic), too much sugar, too much cake.
My mom makes the best apple pie, I might be biased. The Schuette family is definitely more of an apple pie family over pumpkin pie. I don’t mind pumpkin pie, but I will get up during dinner to get more than three helpings of apple pie.
We as a family are such big apple pie lovers that my younger sister wrote about the pie.
photo credit: Kristine’s Kitchen
`Recipe:
Ingredients:
1 recipe pastry for a 9″ double crust pie
1/2 cup unsalted or salted butter
3 tablespoons all- purpose flour
1/4 cup of water
1/2 cup white sugar (or slightly less)
1/2 cup packed brown sugar (or slightly less)
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon- to taste (optional)
1 lemon; squeeze juice (add sugar to taste, the lemon will go on top of the apples to stop from browning)
Directions:
Preheat Oven to 425 degrees
Melt the butter in a saucepan, stir in flour to form a paste. Add water, white and brown sugar and bring to a boil. Reduce temperature and let simmer.
Drizzle some of the lemon juice and sugar liquid over apples; just enough to make sure the apples do not brown.
Place the bottom crust in a pan or use the one that came in the package. Put apples in a mixing bowl and drizzle less than half of the sugar/ butter liquid on apples. Put the apples in the crust, mound it slightly.
Cover the pie with a lattice and then pour sugar/ butter liquid over the crust. Brush to make the mixture cover the whole pie.
Line a tray with tin foil and place pie on top. During baking the pie might bubble over, this is a preventative.
Cover with tin foil and bake for 15 minutes. Reduce temperature to 350 degrees; and continue to bake for 35-45 minutes or until apples are soft. Take of foil and let it cool for 5 minutes.
I could eat it for every meal if I had the opportunity. I eat all kinds of soup, from ramen to loaded potato soup. Most mornings I love to make egg drop soup. This type of soup is originally from China.
Egg Drop Soup is really easy to make and very customizable. Different veggies and go in, as well as different forms of protein. You could make full of spinach and crab, or have it plain and add a bit of chili oil. The way I make the soup could feed up to four people, but I end up eating it all by myself.
photo credit: The Woks of Life
Ingredients:
six cups of chicken stock, or veggie stock.
cut 2-4 green onions
2-3 cloves of garlic
Some ginger
four eggs
chili pepper flakes
white pepper
salt
cornstarch
water
sesame oil
whatever veggies and proteins you want to add
chili oil, if wanted
How to make the soup:
Broth:
Boil the chicken or veggie stock in a pot
Mince the garlic and add it to the pot
Grate ginger into broth
Shake white pepper and salt into broth for taste
Egg mixture:
In medium bowl crack four eggs and stir
Dice up green onions, put half into eggs
Add white pepper, salt, chili pepper to taste
Cornstarch slurry:
Add two tbsp of cornstarch into a small bowl
Stir in two tbsp of water
Add chili pepper flakes to the slurry
Soup:
If you want to add any protein or veggies do it now
If the protein needs to be cooked ahead of time, cook it while the broth is boiling
Add the eggs to the boiling broth, let it sit for two minutes
Stir in cornstarch slurry and let sit for another minute
Crested Butte, Colorado. The best place to ski during the winters and get bitten by ants in the summer.
The duration of my vacation was about two weeks and it started with driving to TacoTime. The closest TacoTime was at a Vegas truck stop, the food made my stomach hurt. After eating the deep fried burritos, we started driving to St. George, Utah.
The view was spectacular and the climate was hot, like once I stepped outside the car I felt as though I was going to die from heatstroke. My sister and I swam in the pool, she tried to drown me. The next day we went on a hike on the outskirts of Zion National Park. The hike was called Spring Creek and it was in a slot, the different colors of the rocks were breathtaking.
After the long hike we explored St. George. We went to a couple of thrift shops, we did not find anything cool enough to buy, and visited Brigham Young’s winter home. We learned all about the Mormon church and were even approached to join, but we didn’t convert.
The next day we went on a small walk to Dixie rock and drove up Kolob Canyon. We made a couple of pit stops because pictures or it didn’t happen. Eventually we made it to our one mile hike to a lookout spot. While walking back to the car we heard a rattle, we almost got attacked by a rattlesnake.
After a couple of hours, more like nine hours, and a McDonald’s pitstop we made it to Grand Junction, Colorado. I tried Dairy Queen the first time, not worth the hype. We finally made it to Gunnison.
Our trip consisted of hiking, hiking, and more hiking. We hiked down the entirety of Crested Butte Mountain during a lightning and thunderstorm. The weather was bipolar, either too hot or too rainy and stormy. I toured my first college, Western Colorado University. The campus was gorgeous and the school had lots to offer, but Gunnison is the most boring town in existence.
My mom, sister, and I all went rafting. Every time we are in Colorado during the summer we go rafting, and get the craziest photos. Our family met us in Colorado and we went to an insanely late dinner, our reservation was at 9 O’clock pm. We went to a place called Slogars, they specialize in fried chicken.
Overall the trip to Colorado was amazing, but it was time to head back home. We drove to Bryce Canyon, Utah. It was two Best Westerns and that was basically the town. The food was not good, like LAUSD’s cafeteria food was more edible. In the morning we went to hike the Peekaboo Loop trail. It turns out that since there were mudslides before the trail was closed we illegally hiked a trail.
My mom found a nice restaurant in the town over, and the food was actually edible. We ordered pork chops, burrata, bread (OMG the bread was to die for), crab mac and cheese, french onion soup and a carrot salad. We could not leave without getting dessert, so we got three different options: chocolate bourbon mousse, cheesecake, and a rhubarb crumble.
The next day it was time for us to head home, we drove and drove and drove until we home. The trip was amazing but being home and sleeping in my own bed was exhilarating.
In my everyday life I could fall upwards to five times, and it is quite embarrassing. One instance I can remember is when I went to Montgomery, Alabama. I was walking along the river on one of those raised ledges, thinking everything was fine. It was not fine, I fell off, and now I have a lasting scar. I did not cry and it barely hurt, I was more embarrassed than anything. Everyone who was on that river that day saw me and kept coming up to me to see if I was okay… I did not like the attention.
photo credit: Vector Stock
Another embarrassing moment is everytime I see a person I know in public. I do not like talking to people and I know that if I see someone I know, they’ll come up to me to talk. I do talk to them because I don’t like being rude, but I am worried that I am going to say or do something weird.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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