Category: love

The Pretenses of Valentines Day.

YourcupateaLeave a comment

Love
Oh Valentine’s Day you have once again returned,
Stealing the hearts and money of those in love,
Have you not had your fair share of fun?
Watching and laughing from above.

In my eyes Valentines Day is one big pretense. It is an excuse for shops to raise prices, sales to begin and people to empty their pockets. In many cases it is no longer a day to share affection or celebrate love.

Valentines Day has become a field day for mockery and competition. Who can buy the best gifts? Who can fool someone they dislike? And who can break someone’s heart?

In many cases Valentines Day lacks the key ingredient, love.

In my opinion love is a precious thing and should be celebrated everyday. Cook a special meal, tell someone you love them or even pick a fresh bouquet of flowers. If you love someone why not do this daily?

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Smile for the Camera.

theycallmedameLeave a comment

Click.
Click.
Click.

He hunches over with his camera in hand, turning at obscure angles to try and get the perfect shot of the two cars.

Click.

He stands on his tip toes, his camera far above his head, trying to see form a view that isn’t his own.

Click

He mounts a jack to his own car before attaching his camera and speeding down the winding roads of a mountain.
I’ll edit out the jack later, he thinks to himself while twisting through the turns.

Click.

He smiles at me as I take a picture of him, a wild horse right out of frame, laughing.
“These things are the spawn of satan,” he says to me.

Click.

He waits on the ridge of a mountain, keeping his camera in front of him and his eyes searching.
My shutter speed has to be perfect, he thinks.
There’s a flash of lighting far away, and a smile stretches across his face.

Click.

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Once upon a freestyle…

dmilesburtonLeave a comment

Today I can honestly say I rapped the first freestyle of mine that I can fully appreciate. No “da da da’s,” no pointless phrases, just pure and utter beauty. When I was done with the first verse, I leaned back into my chair, looked up at my one man audience and waited for a reply. He looked at me and said, “Wow. that was good. I mean like I’d buy that song. I’m serious” When I heard that I smiled.

I’ve wanted to be a rapper for almost as long as I’ve liked rap music, which, as it would happen, is only a couple of years. Now I know, I know, everyone wants to be a rapper, but when you think about it, how many “aspiring rappers” will actually take the steps they need to in order to become one. If I had to guess, I’d say less than 15 percent. The rest, that less than 15%, have to have a lot of luck.

Well, I don’t know if actually becoming a rapper is in my cards, or if it’ll just sort of die off, but for the time being, it’s a real goal. Now I’m betting you’re wondering how spitting one good freestyle validates anything, and in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. But for the moment, it’s proof that, yes, I can in fact create a song that I’m proud of.

Not to say this is my first song, because it isn’t in the slightest. Nor is it to say that I haven’t made verses that I’ve been proud of before (I’ve made at least a few that I would use in a song and be proud of). It’s more about the idea that this one’s for real, which basically means I’d put it on an album and feel confident showcasing it as a single.

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Who are you?

yourgingerkid1 Comment

When looked upon, the average person makes a quick judgment; their eyes, their hair, their teeth, the way they walk. In a matter of seconds a person can be perceived as everything that they are, and a person can be perceived as something completely opposite of who they really are. All of the observations made over time create a deep pool in which the person can only skim the surface of, where the strange and memorable rise up.

A single glance, a slight observation, can create the greatest of labels and accusations. It is simply because of human nature that we do this, but is it avoidable?

Recently there have been some strange accusations made by both students and faculty of the school that involve students. I have been aware of the situation since freshman year, as has everyone who has attended this school within those years. Never once has anyone spoken out claiming to feel uncomfortable about it. Why would they?

As adolescents, we don’t know who we are. Throughout high school we all partake in a trial and error style of determining and hardening who we are and who we want to be. Body-type, personality, and sexuality are somethings that don’t even come to a stand-still until further into life, if ever. Who are the faculty and students to determine who we are for us?

It’s not far to say that making judgements isn’t a part of living. In order to survive we need to come to conclusions about people and situations, literally. As a person who has also been a victim in being told who I am because of my behaviors, I know that it really isn’t fair to those who are in that place now.

I really shouldn’t and won’t get into specifics, but I just hope that those who think they are so correct in their accusations second check their facts, because last time I checked there weren’t any. It’s strange to see adults target students, stereotyping them, but here’s an awesome article on what could happen. Link.

Valentine’s Day Dessert

yrreskrap1 Comment


Last Valentine’s Day, I attempted to be a really cute girlfriend and make him desserts from scratch (after all, the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach). My plan was to make him two desserts. Dessert #1: chocolate dipped strawberries. Dessert #2: heart-shaped sugar cookies with royal frosting.

I had made the desserts the morning of Valentine’s Day and I had all my ingredients laid out. I melted the chocolate, dipped the strawberries, and laid them out to harden. Yum, maybe I’ll taste one (or two…or three) to make sure they are alright. Next were the sugar cookies. I made the dough, flattened it out with a wooden roller into even sheets, and cut out heart shaped cookies. Aww, these are so cute! He’s gonna love these! I placed them on a buttered metal pan and waited. BUT WAIT! TODAY’S OUR SOCCER GAME! I ran up the stairs into my room to dig my uniform out of the abyss of my laundry basket…

The smell of burnt cookies filled the kitchen. I arrived to the scene of the crime and removed the hard, browned cookies from the oven. I sighed. These are ruined! I pulled out the other two pans of cookies. They were just perfect! Yes!! I quickly iced them and set them in the fridge to harden. I’ll get back to those later.

After the game, I wrapped the strawberries in little bags and placed them in a glass jar that I bought from Rain’s specifically for that purpose. Ohmigosh I’m the cutest! Then the cookies. OH NO…oh no…oh. no. The cookies had come out and baked into triangles. I had forgotten that cookies expanded in the oven. The hearts expanded into triangles. I gave them to him anyway, telling him that they were love triangles.


This year, I will send him cupcakes from Cupcake and Cookie. They are based in Thousand Oaks and they won the Food Network’s Cupcake Wars so I know they are tasty. Plus! They deliver! But, I will attempt to make him a treat that is made from scratch this year. I they will come out great. I hope.

Words

theycallmedameLeave a comment

I always thought of my cousin (Let’s call her Cousin for the sake of her privacy) as a small, slightly pudgy girl with a big smile. She always trailed behind my eleven other cousins, my big brother, and me while we played games, and she always seemed to happy just to sit and talk with us.

I was once told that while she was in fourth or fifth grade, her mother found her in the bathtub with her legs completely hairless. Very confused, her mother inquired about it, and Cousin explained how girls in her class called her legs hairy and gross, so she shaved the hair off.

That was the time that we should’ve started keeping a closer eye on her.

I had heard over the years that my aunt and uncle were worrying about Cousin and peer pressure issues. They were mainly concerned about her eating habits. They thought that maybe girls were calling her fat and she was reacting the same way she did when they told her she had hairy legs.

But when I saw her two years ago, it was not what I expected. The girl I once thought to be radiant and albeit a little pudgy, was nothing more than a shell of a person. Her feet were pressed against each other, as were her knobby knees, but her legs touched in no places. Her shirt rested a bit high above her jeans, her hip bones jutting painfully out and her stomach fat nonexistent. With her back turned to you, you could practically count her ribs and her arms looked no more than toothpicks. Her collar bones stuck out like mountains from her chest and her neck looked to thin to hold her head up. She wore makeup and looked as though she thought the world of herself. Cousin was in sixth grade.

It made me angry. Oh, it made me so angry to see her this way. I wanted to yell at her, shake sense into her feeble little body and watch her as she ate every last thing on a plate piled a mile high. But I sat back and watched as she and her equally skinny friend shared a kids meal, but barely touching the plate at all.

While in the car back to the hotel they were staying at, I casually mentioned how if you stopped eating you would gain water weight as your body tried to counter it’s lack of nutrients and eventually your stomach would start to eat itself. They looked appalled, but recent photos show no difference in her ghastly appearance.

I just want her to go back to the way she was before. I just want her to be happy.
I just want her to live again.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will hurt forever.

In this day.

theycallmedameLeave a comment

For, although in this day and age
in which life and death are questioned,
life and death still go on.
For even the smallest breath
and the most insignificant death,
will steal your marching son.

Every moment, of everyday,
As you wait hopelessly by the door
He marches, unblinking.
And his tears have all come and gone,
They drained them, smiling, it was done.
Empty thoughts worth thinking.

A thousand miles away
Or a single step out of line
All eyes shoot down.
They are trapped in a single frame
The camera and the gun are the same
Death is a clown.

Screeching tires stumble sideways
The car flips, once twice, three times.
The water fails to drain.
A struggled breath lingers
Shivering hands and fingers
Is he in love or in pain?

A sudden blow to the head
No stars, only music plays
A swollen, shifted skull.
Invisible drums, out of time
Twisted tongues, out of line
A hospital life, worn dull.

With a march,
A crash,
A hit,
Even if death cuts in,
Life waits for its next dance.

The Time Is Coming

yrreskrapLeave a comment


The pending graduation, this upcoming, tear evoking, sad-faced, sour event, has been on my mind since day one. No, I’m not talking about my graduation. I am not there yet-it still hasn’t hit me that I am a junior.

I am talking about the graduation that will herald the final, graduating class of 2011, the great, centennial generation of students. I am talking about that day that will mark the conclusion of the school year with a note heavily sodden with grey.  I am talking about that gloomy yet happy moment. That walk down the cobblestone aisle, that luminescent moment, that commencement of a new life for the graduating seniors.


The time is coming, the time is near. All I can say is that on June 4, tears of sadness and tears of joy will be streaming, salty down my cheeks. Already, I have learned to thank God for bringing me to this school, allowing me to meet my friends, friends to have for a lifetime. Already, I have realized that it will be a happy moment, giving my friends and loved ones yet another opportunity to grow. (However, it is hard to grasp any other emotions than the ones evoked by the fact that they will be leaving.) Already, here I am today, past the halfway mark of the year. The time for this year’s seniors is coming, and so will mine.

Remember me.

YourcupateaLeave a comment

September the 11th, 2001 impacted the globe greatly. The tragic events what occurred changed the world and those who remained. Although serving many by enlightening the masses about the dangers of terrorism, the deaths that occurred will never be forgiven.

In these circumstances it is the ones that are left behind that suffer the most. The ones that are tormented by the loss of there loved ones and left to deal with a burden of grief that haunts them on a daily basis.

Losing a loved one is never easy and in the 9/11 attacks this was no exception. The grief felt was magnified on a global scale, devastating the masses.

We will always mourn for the lives that were lost in the attacks. We will always remember the individuals whose existence was taken prematurely and the aptitude and courage they showed. 9/11 will never be forgotten.

9/11

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The Return of the Lin.

yrreskrapLeave a comment


Best friends never grow apart, no matter the distance between them.

Wendy Lin has been a part of my life ever since my first year at OVS. Wendy was a prefect in my wing-she lived right across from me. Living in such close proximity, it was just a matter of time before a friendship blossomed. I was new, scared, and excited to come to this new school but Wendy let me feel just at home. She showed me around, and explained boarding school life to me. With her kindness, living away from home was easy and my life at Ojai Valley School began.

I don’t remember really fighting with Wendy. We have gotten mad, annoyed, or overwhelmed with each other at times, but we’ve never raised our voices at each other. Wendy and I generally agree on everything, or settle on things. We have a lot of things in common and a lot of things that make us individual people. I think that is a key factor to our friendship. We both look out for each other’s benefits, we make sure we don’t make stupid mistakes (and tell each other when we are being stupid), and we are sisters.

For the first half of the school year, Wendy decided to take her life in a new direction. She went to Santa Barbara High School for one semester and that was her first public school experience. She loved it, but she realized that this year, her junior year, was an integral part of her high school curriculum and her future college acceptances. Wendy, now, is back and we don’t feel any strange awkwardness or distance between us. I love her, and I am glad to have her back.

Four years strong, our friendship has only grown from the young, naive eighth grade girls that we were. Four years strong, and we can boast that we have never fought before. Four years strong, Wendy Lin has left and grown up in the public school’s eye. Four years strong, and she has returned to the school we had first met and next year, we will be five years strong, graduating on the same stage together, just as we had our 8th grade year.