Category: love

The World’s Best Mystery Author

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What a lot of people don’t know about me is that I am a nerd for murder mysteries. I love Agatha Christie. I love her mustache-twisting, balding, OCD detective, Hecule Poirot and his “little grey cells”. I must have read close to 30 of Christie’s books by now; starting from the age of 10, up until today, at age 16. And yet, I still can’t see the plot twist coming, or guess the motive, or identify the murderer. I’m impressed by anyone who can.

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Coming from an Agatha Christie connoisseur, here are my recommendations:

Christie writes about a few different detectives. There’s Miss Marple, Tommy and Tuppence, and my personal favorite, Poirot. If you’re new to Agatha Christie or detective stories in general, you should start one of her most famous, either The Orient Express or Death on the Nile. From there, I would strongly recommend The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, Crooked House, or And Then There Were None.

There is supposed to be a chronological order to the stories, but you really don’t need to follow it. Every once in a while, a Christie references another case from another book, but it is of no real importance. My only guidance would be to read Curtain, Poirot’s final case, last.

<< Childhood

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I miss being little. Everything was so much easier then. I had no significant responsibilities, no pressure, and no school stress. 

My days consisted of barefoot cartwheels in the grass, sweet mango lassies, and swimming lessons in the fading afternoon light.

I fell asleep cuddling my mom under mosquito net canopies, or listening to “Quelqu’un m’a dit’ if my parents were out for date night. I took baths in a red bucket just big enough for a petite 6-year-old with her knees folded to her chest (the shower was too scary). I collected shards of shattered glass behind the school gymnasium, which my friend and I called our secret treasures. I read stories on our yellow balcony overlooking a sea of rice paddies. I accompanied my dad to the grocery store just to get a Chupa-Chups lollipop at the register.

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These were the simplest of times. Back then, my greatest challenge was pulling a comb through my tangled hair or remembering my times tables. How quickly things changed.

Some of my Favorite Things Recently Pt. 2

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1. People watching. I love to go to the coffee roasters downtown on a Sunday afternoon, order a hot drink, and pick out a seat at the bar facing the window. It’s the perfect view from which to watch scenes of life play out before me. Old people, young people, tourists, locals, skateboarders, shoppers, artists, and school children, are all going about their day; oblivious to my pair of eyes through the glass.

2. The song “Find My Way” by Frances & Simone. I saw them play live last weekend and have been streaming their one song released on Spotify nonstop. The harmonies are so beautiful.

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3. This chai peanut/almond butter my mom discovered. SO SO GOOD. The other day I made a slice of toast, slathered it on, and topped it off with granny smith slices, cinnamon, and a drizzle of caramel – Michelin Star worthy.

4. Writing poetry in the shower. I trace stanzas in the fogged-up glass of the shower door, watching my words melt away, and it feels incredibly therapeutic. Take my word for it, this is the best use of the time you have spare while waiting to rinse the conditioner out of your hair.

5. Lists! This is no new development. I’ve always loved them, especially to-do lists. They provide organization, create a routine, let me plan out my day, help me manage my time, and hold me accountable for what I said I’d do. What’s more, checking off a task makes me feel so productive. Even if a task is a small feat, my to-do lists incentivize and reward.

The Art of Trying New Things

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There is no one I feel more sorry for than those who live life without ever branching out. Those who stick to what they know and play it safe.

I don’t know a lot about how I want to live but I do believe in trying new things. To me, it’s about discovering what life has to offer, pushing boundaries, and most importantly, growing as a person.

I have my finger in a lot of pies. I’ve dabbled in crochet, tested my skills at the piano, and even explored my artistic side through painting and ceramics. I’ve learned discipline through martial arts and ballet. I’ve challenged myself physically through volleyball, basketball, and cross country. My most recent passion has been chess. Every new experience has taught me something valuable. Whether it’s patience, perseverance, or just a new appreciation for the world around me, I’ve come out the other side a little wiser and a little better.

Trying new things can be scary, I won’t deny that. But the rewards are worth it. You might find a new hobby, a new skill, or a new friend. The point is, you can only improve yourself or find new opportunities by stepping out of your comfort zone. So don’t be afraid to try new things. Embrace this art and see where it takes you. Life is an endless canvas, and it’s up to you to paint the picture.

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little spanish farmstead

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The other day I saw a video documenting a woman’s year restoring an abandoned smallholding in eastern Spain all alone. She left her husband in the city to live simply in the countryside. The 4-acre property and the house had no furniture, running water, tools, or heating. And this woman, from scratch, completely transformed it into a full-fledged smallholding. Anyway, the whole video is watching this process: thrifting the furniture & decor, painting the walls, landscaping a whole garden, and doing some handiwork. She meets a whole new community of people like her and builds a big tipi outside for guests and visitors to stay.

What an incredible difference she made in just one year, and to think she went out there on her own, knowing so little, and gained all the skills she needed. She absolutely deserves all the fruits of her labor.

Now she spends her days hanging out with stray cats, gardening, building things all on her own, and raising animals, instead of working 9-5 just to get by. The energy is so positive I can’t help but think this is the way we’re meant to live: healthy, happy, eating the best food, and loving life.

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Head in the Clouds

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When I was little, my best friend would carpool to school together every day. Only we spent the greater portion of the car ride arguing over what we’d be doing in the car rather than actually doing anything. She wanted to listen to music, likely Katy Perry, or whatever else was playing on the radio. I, meanwhile, stubbornly insisted that I required complete silence in order to pursue my favorite activity – daydreaming.

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To this day, I might still consider zoning out as one of the best pastimes. Only I don’t need dead silence anymore. I can daydream just about anytime, anywhere, in anyone’s company, and amidst any sort of noise. It’s an extraordinary talent really. At least I think so. My vision blurs out of focus, the thoughts pooled inside my head begin to unravel, and I’ve never felt more at peace.

The older I get, the less time I have to indulge in this luxury. As a junior in high school, it’s not something I can usually afford to do anymore. If I start to space out in class, I remind myself that I’ll miss the lecture; if I start to space out outside of class, I remind myself I could be studying, catching up on social media or current events, or doing something “productive.”

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I wish daydreaming was considered productive because I feel like it is a form of self-care. One of the few times that I actually feel good about zoning out, is at the end of my physical therapy sessions when I do electric stimulation and am given an ice pack. It’s almost the opposite of meditation. In meditation, you try to block all internal dialogue and focus on your outside senses, and daydreaming is the vice-versa. I lay there, my back pain fading away, and my thoughts racing in.

Thankful (Even Though Thanksgiving’s Over)

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Every once in a while I experience these jolting moments. They go something along the lines of this: I’m living my day-to-day, sitting in a classroom, eating a meal, hugging a loved one, scrolling through my phone – and suddenly it hits me: this is my day-to-day life. Like how crazy is it that here I am living this beautiful, fulfilling existence on a floating rock in the universe? How crazy is it that this has become so normal to me that I don’t even stop to look around and simply appreciate the sheer brilliance of it all?

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Aside from the fact that life and humans exist (which is mind-boggling in and of itself), it strikes me that amidst it all, here I am. And I really am so lucky. I’m privileged enough to go to an incredible private school and receive a top-tier education when so many girls my age never even have the opportunity. I can afford to have enough to eat, and more so, nourishing and healthy food, where others don’t. I am fortunate enough to have people in my life who hug, love, and support me (and vice-versa) when many are alone in the world. I’m able to own a phone and access a wide range of technology when this is a luxury for millions.

I take all this for granted. But then, there are these shocks to my system. It’s the same feeling as vertigo at the top of a mountain or a skyscraper: everything zooms out, the fresh perspective leaving me elated and dizzy.

I’m sorry if this sounds like hippy bullshit but it is all sincere. I’m truly so grateful.

Poetry Pt. 4

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dear [me],

i love the freckles that dapple your collarbone,

your double-jointed bent-backward elbows

i love the scar under your chin

and your dark unruly eyebrows

i love the blister you wear on your ring finger from holding a pencil wrong

i love your frizzy hair on rainy days

your voice cracks in the chorus of our song

i love how you speak to yourself when no one’s around

how you stumble over words when people are

i love how you sit slouched over at the table

and only ever play taylor swift in the car

i love the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh at your own jokes

but you loving yourself

is the thing i love most.

yours truly,

mine forever,

lulabean.

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i put salt on watermelon

to make it taste sweeter.

i wonder if all these tears

will one day make my happiness taste sweeter too.

starlight

the brightest stars are the closest to burning out.

maybe they already are

but you’re too far from them to know it.

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a curious sensation

they shouldn’t call it falling in love. 

i feel like i’m floating.

the falling part comes later

and some might call it heartbreak.

i hold my poems like a mirror

i read my handwritten stanzas back to myself

and i’ve never felt both so expressive and so understood.

i hear you,

you see me.

i’m staring through my soul with this magic we call poetry.

Love

elephantlover2035Leave a comment

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.

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light

rainbowsparklecupcake1 Comment

At the end of each day, when I get out of the shower and brush my hair in the reflection of my steam-coated mirror, I contemplate quite possibly every decision I’ve ever made. I feel the water trickle down the arch of my spine and across my lower back. I let it drape over my shoulders, forcing together flexibility with stillness. I look at myself and no longer criticize. My head turns to the right side as I study the curvature that makes up my exterior. Every night a light seeps into me, it gives me the ability to feel and describe. I feel everything, every drop of water or word spoken. They mean something to me, my mind feeds off of the ability to experience a sensation. My vertebrae twist and my chest crawls outwards, My feet no longer touch the ground and I levitate upwards, the light carries me. My fingertips fall numb and the air expands. A million particles and breaths fill the vastness of the atmosphere. I am nothing and everything all at once. The light swarms me and slithers across my surface. It intertwines with my fingers and the crooks of my neck. It mangles my hair, stretches my skin. It opens my eyes and locks my jaw. It wrenches my shoulders back and opens my throat. I am not me, not without my light. I can’t control her, she flows within me. Her essence seethes through my bones and brings life to my nerves. Her glow leaks out of my mouth and ears, dripping off the tip of my tongue. The layer that separates the world from my organs melts away and leaves me with only a soul. My body means nothing, the only truth I know is my mind and soul. She festers within me. At the end of each night, I look into her hollowed eyes, and thank my tired light. She lets me feel.

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