Category: love

You Are My Sweetest Downfall…

yrreskrap2 Comments

I am obsessed with the song Samson by Regina Spektor. Ask my roommate, she knows.

What I love the most about the song is not the beautiful, velvety vocals but the lyrics (to be specific, the meaning behind them).

It tells the story of Samson through the eyes of Delilah, his deceitful wife. Samson was blessed by God with incredible strength (he could even kill a lion with his bare hands). With that strength, Samson fought off wicked people and God was pleased. Samson was good. He was obedient and he loved God. So, God promised Samson his strength as long as he never cut a hair off his head.

Delilah had given into sin by accepting the bribes of the Philistines. Blinded by money, she sought to find Samson’s ultimate weakness and to bring about his downfall. Every night, he incessantly asked her husband where his shortcomings lied. But every night, Samson gave her the wrong answer. After being given the answer, Delilah called the Philistines to her house to attack her husband, just to have Samson fight them off.

Finally, one night, Delilah got to him. She had told him that if he truly loved him, he would confide in her.

and he did.

Samson lost his hair that night and Delilah sold her husband to the Philistines. Tied to a pillar in their palace, Samson watched as the Philistines celebrated with a feast. Samson, deceived, guilt welling up in his chest cavity, prayed to God for one last chance. He asked for forgiveness and he asked for his strength. And for the last time, Samson got up and used his power to break the pillar that he was tied against, killing all inside the building, including himself.

This story is particularly moving to me because it shows how easily mankind can fall into sin’s trap. Everyday, the story of Samson lives on in every one of us. We are the deceived but more often, we are the deceivers.

Once you branch off from the straight path, like a tree that has grown crooked, you can never go back and straighten in out again. The past will always remain in the past. But life’s goal is to turn back once a mistake has been made. You must live and learn. Let the present be something you will never regret.

Tribal Issues (Chairman’s Program)

theycallmedame5 Comments

I want to change lives.
I really, really do.
And now, finally, I’m given an opportunity to do it.

I’ve been doing volunteer work with an organization called Rustic Pathways for two summers in a row. In 2010, I went to Costa Rica to help sustain sea turtle life by building a hatchery for eggs and moving the eggs from dangerous areas to a safe place where they will survive. This year, in 2011, I went to China to volunteer at a Giant Panda conservation center, where I helped care for and feed the endangered pandas.

That was all fun, and helpful, and all that jazz, but I wanted something more.

A week ago, my friend Max (who I’ve done both of the Rustic programs with) called me and told me about this amazing program hosted by Rustic.

“There’s limited spaces available,” he said, “And you don’t get to just sign up, you actually have to send in an application and have an interview to see if you get accepted or not.”

Right away my curiosity was piqued, I needed to be accepted to go? I kept asking Max, one of my best friends since kindergarten, question after question about it until he finally directed me to the site where the trip was explained.

I read through it and my breath got caught in my throat. It sounded so important, so influential, so life-changing.

I sent in my application right away and emailed the director to ask for an interview.

The next day, I received an email from Rustic:

Hello Aria,

Congratulations on being accepted into our programs in Southeast Asia.

I literally squealed, my hands flying to my mouth, and my eyes started to tear up. This is the experience I have been waiting for!

In the summer of 2012, from July 3 to July 20, I will travel with my friend Max and roughly six other students into Thailand, Burma, and Laos. But it will not just be for seeing the other countries and what their culture is, no. I will travel to an estimated fourteen tribes and speak with young men and women there about their life, their hardships, their experiences, and anything else.

I will help sponsor various children to go to school and supply villages with water, food, bicycles, soap, and a friend. I will work with Rustic and the other students on the trip to think of ways to better the lives of all the people in those tribes, and try to set our plans into action.

I want to experience life, and I can’t do that by just talking about making a difference. I have to actually go out there and do it.

And I will go out there.
And I will do it.
And nothing is going to stop me.

New life

thehungryrunnergirl1 Comment

Moving from New England, this is my first week in California. Man, this place is just so awesome. Palm trees, beaches, mountains, sunny weather… I’m just really lucky to be here.

Compared to California, New England was just not for me. Sixteen-hour flights from home, feeling very far away from my family. In winter, there would be so much snow, and blizzards. I couldn’t go outside and run, and that was the worst part of being there. All I could do was to shut myself up in the room studying. The highest temperature will be 32°F and the lake right by my old school freezes and turns into a skating rink. It was very pretty…

but I prefer palmtrees and beaches.

I’m so lucky to come to Cali, and OVS. I appriciate my parents and teachers, especially (thebrownguy) for bringing me here.

I’m very stoked for this year, and can’t wait to get to know more people.

Threads

yourgingerkidLeave a comment

For my blog post for this week  I thought that I’d post my favorite poem at the moment.

This poem, by Gabriel Gadfly, is not only beautifully written, but also describes how I feel at this point in life. You can relate it to leaving high school. You can relate it to leaving friends behind. You can relate it to leaving past lovers behind. In my case, I relate it to all of those things.

Threads 

From time to time,
when you have wandered
away from a person,
you wander a little further
and feel the slightest tug
at your ankle.

Looking down, you find
a thread, red or maybe
blue, barely seen,
barely there, tied
gently and trailing
as far back as you
can see and you know,
instinctively, where
it leads.

It brings you to a choice:
to take one more step,
snap the thread and
leave it where it lay,
or return from whence
you came.

Sometimes, the one’s
the best choice;
sometimes, it’s the other.

Is it not wonderful? Maybe I’m just a complete weirdo that likes poetry, but I can’t help but share it. No others words could possibly describe the way that I feel at this point in life. No matter how much I whine about wanting to leave and am counting down the days, I’m incredibly sad to leave.

I can’t imagine not seeing the few people that I care about every day. I don’t want to leave those who are staying behind and I don’t want to watch the other walk away and never look back. It’s a terrible feeling knowing that things are coming to an end, and you can only sit back and watch.

Well as Dr. Seuss said “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

I

And yet she comes again.

sennymcflyLeave a comment

It’s been at least one month since Aunt Lela’s funeral. Just last weekend we were at Relay for Life and I was walking in her honor.

It’s been four hours since my great grandmother passed away.

It’s been 20 minutes since I got the phone call from my mom. After the fourth ring I decided to pick up. “Mama, I can’t talk right now.” My roommate was sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb her. “It’s an EMERGENCY.”

This one I was close to. It really hurts this time. All she wanted before she died was to hear me sing. I didn’t do it for her.

I feel guilty, but it’s not about me. It’s about this woman who was so kind and funny. She loved her family, but she especially loved her daughter. The one who took care of her until the very end with very little help.

Now, she’s gone. What is her daughter supposed to do?

We can only pray and give love, right? What else? Why is death such a powerful thing?

I will pray. Not for God or Jesus or whoever. None of them. I will pray for my family. Because with tragedy comes grief and with grief, one never knows what can come of grief. So, I will pray and I hope you will too.

Grammie and Bubba

Are You There God?

sennymcflyLeave a comment

Faith is the journey continued in hopes of finding the end

it is the belief that after years of hard work, finger breaking there will come rest

There is faith in mothers that they will nurture us

there is faith in fathers that they will protect us

there is faith in lovers that they will love us

But, what faith have I in someone else’s religion?

What do you believe?

I believe in love

love can’t be taught or preached

it can’t be written or spoken, not published, or broadcasted

I have faith in love

Relay For Life 2011

yrreskrapLeave a comment

“Just one more year.”

May 14, 2011, Ventura, California, Relay for Life.

It is approximately 9:00 am in the cold parking lot of Buena High School in Ventura. The yellow bus unloads its passengers, yielding the start of the day. Slowly, students crawl out, it was too early for them. But the grey, salty breeze shifts cool between their sleeves and awaken the tired students. The day had begun.

A loud voice could be heard on the loud speakers, announcing highlights of the event. Schools were commended for their outstanding fundraising. First, the honorable mentions, soon followed by the bronze teams. Then came the silver teams. My school, our school, Ojai Valley School, had been recognized as a silver team for raising so much money. In our school of just under 100 students, we managed to raise  $3,060. It was a great start to our day.

The empty track was broken by a mass of survivors, clad in the same purple shirts. Among the many survivors was OVS AP psychology teacher, John Valenzuela. He made his way around the track while our school gathered at one corner and shouted words of encouragement to him, our screams choked with tears, because we had all seen him battle through this scary disease and we had won this battle together. He put his hand over his heart and we all knew what he felt.

Throughout the day, students walked around the track, bought food, and even partook in a wedding between a survivor and the love of his life.

That night, some of our students stayed overnight and endured heavy rains, cold, and hunger but came back with smiles. And at the end of the day, all I could think to myself was “just one more year.”

Why Do We Relay?

sennymcflyLeave a comment

It’s 10:01 pm. Kai, Lucy, and myself are walking on the desert red track at Buena High School. While the senior Lacrosse players have only just arrived, Lucy and I have been walking, dancing, and celebrating for 13 hours. But, we still have 11 more to go.

It started with the survivor lap and when our beloved John Valenzuela circled to the first strait-a-way an eruption of applause broke out from our booth. And as he smiled and put his hand to his heart in appreciation tears began to fall. Mr. V is our survivor.

Then there was wedding. A 5 year survivor was given the chance to marry the love of his life. Tons of ladies in dresses joined in and led the bride’s path to the alter. As they exchanged vows hearts were lifted in the celebration of their chance to live a long life of happiness. He is her survivor.

After numerous laps honoring cowboys, the 80’s, and siamese twins there came the luminaria ceremony. Hundreds of lights shined representing the battles fought by millions. As the names of the lost and the loved showed on the big screen yet more tears came. We sat in silence.

For some the walk is for their mothers and sisters. For others it is for their sons and daughters. For me the walk is for my great aunt, my great grandmother, and my mom’s sister who is a childhood cancer survivor. If you were there you knew who the relay was for. For Dad, for a 13 month old baby girl, for Krista.

Relay for Life is not just a fund raiser for cancer research. It’s a celebration. It’s not a time to grieve but a time to give respect and celebrate life.

OVS relayed for Mr. V and celebrated and continue to celebrate his life. A life that he was given a second chance to live, alongside so many other lives because of the support of their family and community. We relayed. We walked. We celebrated. We fought.

Boy’s Romantic Prom Gesture Gets Him Banned From The Dance

Paloma SpencerLeave a comment

Although the talk of prom may not be popular amongst Ojai Valley School students anymore, numerous schools are just getting ready to celebrate theirs.

This means that the excitement over which prom date, which dress to wear, and which place to dine is rampant amongst teenagers everywhere.

And for many guys, there is always one question that needs to be answered: “How should I ask her to prom?”

I’ve seen the classic bouquet of roses and chocolates, the tennis balls perfectly ligned up to spell out prom, and a hand written song accompanied by a guitar.

For James Tate, a student of Shelton High School in Shelton, Connecticut, his plan was already in place.

Tate and two other friends visited their campus and posted a sign saying “Sonali Rodrigues, Will you go to prom with me? HMU Tate” on the top of their school building.

However, that coming Monday, after Sonali had joyfully said “yes” to Tate, James and his two accomplices were requested to the principal’s office.

Rather than asking them to simply take the poster down, the school officials gave all three of the boys a suspension of one day.

In addition, the school felt that the three boys had clearly violated school rules by trespassing after school hours and “vandalizing” school property. Thus, this punishment was expanded in order to ban the boys from attending their school’s prom.

Tate and his friends are not fighting back against their punishment, but simply wish their school officials could recognize that it was a kind way of asking Tate’s date and they never meant to break any rules in the process.

The End

yourgingerkidLeave a comment

You never realize how much you miss someone
until your heart sinks to the floor with grief
A soundless crash that mirrors
After months of forgetting how they mirrored asphalt after rain.

And how days seem to creak on by
When you’re in no rush to take a breath.

And how cigarettes taste youthful
a tremor of nostalgia; a secret childhood kiss
a breath of forgotten lust.

And how, with your legs propped up against the bench; our minds tightly shut
; the breeze spilled into the cracks of our words

And how my heart seemed to bleed through my lips
Your mind finally made up.

My inspiration.