The Eighth Year

mariethearistocatLeave a comment

The day after my eighth birthday, my mother went on a date. She vowed that it would be her last date before she gave up.

Two days after my eighth birthday, my mother got her first phone call after an online date. That was the last first call.

Three days after my eighth birthday, my mother left work early. That was the last time she left work early for a date.

A week after my eighth birthday, my mother had her first official boyfriend since I was born. That was the last boyfriend she ever had.

Two weeks after my eighth birthday, my mother introduced me to her new boyfriend. That was the last time she showed me her new loves.

A month after my eighth birthday, she had her first fight. That was the last time she called me into her room crying.

Three months after my eighth birthday, my mother kicked my sister out of the house after her boyfriend encouraged her. That was the last time she lived with her oldest daughter.

Six months after my eighth birthday, her boyfriend and I took a trip to Universal. That was the last time she laughed around me.

A year and a day after my eighth birthday, it was their one-year anniversary. It was also their last.

A year and a two months after my eighth birthday, we all went to the Grand Canyon. That was the last time their relationship was okay.

A year and four months after my eighth birthday, we sat down for a dinner in complete silence. That was the last time he hit her.

A year and five months after my eighth birthday, she said she loved him, tears in her eyes. That was her last-ditch effort.

A year and a half after my eighth birthday, my mother was diagnosed with depression. That was the last time her doctors made a mistake.

A year and seven months after my eighth birthday, I moved into my aunt and uncle’s house. That was the last time I lived with my mom.

A year and eight months after my eighth birthday, I went to visit her in the hospital. That was last time I thought of her until…

A year, eleven months, and seven days after my eighth birthday, my mother died of brain cancer. That was the last time my mother breathed. That was the last time she lived.

Springtime Magic

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Spring is full of magic.

Sure it brings the obvious, like flowers and butterflies; and then there’s the cliché that “romance is in the air.” But on closer inspection, spring is more than what meets the eye.

Springtime means new flowers, but more than the flowers themselves are the leaves finally bursting through the soil after a long winter hiding from the soil. Spring is the flower buds slowly opening in the heat of the sun, and closing again in the cool evening air.

Photo Credit: cdn2.uk.mentalfloss.com

More than the buzzing bees are the baby ladybugs taking their first steps across the ground, and the butterflies finally breaking free from their cocoons. It is the baby birds hatching from their shells, tottering around their nest and flying for the first time.

Spring is more than what immediately catches the eye. Spring is more than just the flowers, it is the flower buds, the newborn creatures, and the earth itself.

Photo Credit: c2.staticflickr.com

Don’t Keep Calm: Beyoncé Released Her Album

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Photo Credit: newsweek.com

After a three year wait since her last self-titled album, Beyoncé has blessed the world, yet again, with another visual album, Lemonade. HBO was the first to release the exclusive content to the world, and then it hit Tidal, a music streaming site Bey co-owns. For the first 24 hours of the pandemonium that came with Lemonade, only HBO and Tidal had rights to the album. But at 9 pm (in California) Lemonade iTunes. Beyoncé’s last visual album, Beyoncé, was dropped by surprised, sending the beyhive, and, well most of the pop culture world into a confused flurry trying to digest the news. Lemonade was different. Earlier in 2016, Beyoncé first dropped the single Formation, the song that brought the lyrics, “I got hot sauce in my bag, swag” into the world (P.S.: Lemonade reveals that hot sauce is actually the name of Beyoncé’s baseball bat, it is in fact, not, a spicy condiment for one’s food). This song left the world wondering is a new album was soon to follow. Then Beyoncé shared on Instagram that the special Lemonade would be shown on HBO Saturday, April 23rd. And now we are here, listening to Lemonade, watching Lemonade, and obsessing over Lemonade. Thank you Beyoncé.

Graduation

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It’s here in five weeks, the day we have all been waiting for; graduation.

June third is the end of a beautiful chapter in our lives. I have grown so much in these past four years that I would say I am now, at 18, a completely different person than I was at 14 when I was a freshman.

I was so sure at 14 that I wanted to go to Stanford University and become a lawyer, and nobody could convince me otherwise.

Now at 18, I am going to Chapman University and majoring in either political science or business (still not sure), which I cannot believe because four years ago if you were to ask me to live in Los Angeles I would say absolutely not.

This year, I only wanted to go to schools in LA and did not even consider Stanford.

Regardless, I am beyond excited to be going off to study at Chapman in five months. I cannot explain my gratitude for everyone who has helped me throughout the past four years.

I am ecstatic.

 

Mildly Intresting

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Do you ever feel like you want to read about interesting things but you aren’t sure if you can handle the standard amount of interesting? If so, the subreddit “Mildly Interesting” is for you! This subreddit is is the perfect place for people who want something a little more than the subreddit “Not Interesting” and a little less than the subreddit “Interesting“. You can expect things like potatoes in the middle of the woods, a carrot pile found by a dog and his owner in the middle of the woods, a pile of (alive) dogs found by a carrot and its owner, and coupons that don’t expire for 90 years! My all-time favorite is a submission is pictures of George Orwell’s 1984 book cover, which becomes less censored with wear revealing the title. When I first saw that I thought, WOW, how mildly interesting. If you thought this post was mildly interesting, you’re in for a treat when you go to this subreddit.

Playing an Instrument

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I’ve never really been one of those people who has an emotional connection to music. I’ve played so many instruments that I could be a one woman band, but never did I actually feel a strong connection to playing.

I started out with the piano, “the base of all music” said my parents. I played and performed in recitals for years, hating every single moment of it. I remember the lessons seemed to drag on forever and ever, making a one hour lesson seem like a decade. My piano teacher,  an older lady with no sense of humor or compassion for children, was also conveniently my next door neighbor; making it impossible to miss a lessons. Finally after a few years of sitting through endless lessons and playing out of key notes, I was allowed to stop play.

That freedom only lasted for a little bit. The next year I was forced to pick another instrument. This time not forced by my parents, but by my school.Every fifth grader in the public school system had to pick and instrument and either join the orchestra or the band. Of course I chose one of the largest/most awkward/ hardest to transport instruments. I chose the cello.

I played the cello for four years. I took private lessons, played in the school orchestra and played in 2 other out side orchestras. You could say I was a band nerd. I am one of the many that can actually say, ” that one summer at band camp…”.

Its been four years since I’ve played, and for some odd and unexplainable reason, I kind of miss it. I’m not really sure why because  used to fight my mom every single day about practicing and I used to dread going to rehearsals or lessons.

I think I miss it because it resembles my childhood. A time where things were so much simpler, a time where the only thing I had to worry about was making sure that my Halloween costume was cool enough, a time where I wasn’t being forced to make decisions that were going to impact my future.

A Tragic Story of Prom and Permits: Part 2

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Image credit: apromtoremember

Bethany jumped out of her car, tripping on her prom dress, and ran along the road right next to the riverbed towards the fallen deer. The deer didn’t make it. Bethany fell to her knees, and started to cry. Her wailing disabled her from hearing the foot steps behind her. But, she did feel the baseball bat against her skull.

The assailant happened to be a drunk, peace-loving hippie who thought she killed the deer, and wanted to stop her. When the hippie realized Bethany was trying to save the deer, he panicked and threw Bethany and the deer into the empty, rocky riverbed next to the road to cover up his mistake.

While Bethany was unconscious lying in the empty river bed, Ben was waiting for Bethany at the prom site. He assumed he stood her up, even though they weren’t going together.

Bethany woke up hours later, confused. Her car was gone. She called Ben, as she knew he would always answer. He didn’t this time. And they never talked again.

Fortune Favors the Loud

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We have been designed to look for the loudest most colorful person or thing in the room.

In a classroom the person who talks the loudest and the most get’s the credit. Extroverts feed off of attention and sociability and are generally bolder. These are those loud people who don’t stop talking in class who seem to apply themselves the most.

Introverts fall by the way side. They’re the ones that sit quietly work just as hard but just with less noise.

Photo Credit: http://ideas.ted.com/

The world has been trained to look at the people marketing themselves. Extroverts are naturally more comfortable with this.

Schools are obsessed with group work. Painful for anyone who does not relish in social encounters, and for students who want to make the grades but are paired with lazy students it is legitimate pain. It caters to those who are better at working in loud settings.

It’s a punch in the gut. The fact that people can’t see that quiet doesn’t mean not trying.

8 Carrie GIFS That Describe Prom Night

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When you’re feeling really great as you put your makeup on

 

When you finally get your dress on and a teacher tries to dress code you

 

When you walk into prom and you see someone wearing the same dress as you

 

When you start losing hope for actually having fun but then they start playing your song

 

When someone tells you that you look really good

 

And then realize the person who told you that is notoriously fake

 

When you finally get home and you realize you sweat all your makeup off

 

When you are allowed to wash your face after a long night

But all and all, prom is super fun!  So kick off your shoes and dance!!

 

 

Ted Cruz is the Zodiac Killer

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Now as many of you already know we have a serious political problem in the United States.

There is man running for president who belongs in prison

No not Donald Trump… Ted Cruz.

Now if you don’t know about the zodiac killer here is a little background:

The Zodiac Killer was a serial killer who committed a number of murder in Northern California in the 1960s and early 1970s.

After he committed these horrific murders he would write into the local news papers and tell them things about the murders that only the police or he would know.

The Zodiac Killer was described to the police as a heftier 5’8 white male.

esq.h-cdn.co

Now you may be wondering well how tall is Ted Cruz?

5 foot 8 inches!

Coincidence? I think NOT!

Now his age doesn’t exactly match up.

Technically according to his “birth certificate” he was born in 1970 and that makes him 45

So “technically” he wasn’t even born when some of these murders were done and for the others he was a toddler.

But you can doctor documents especially birth certificates, and this man does not look 45.

Like come on

cmgstatesmanaustin.files.wordpress.com

I mean… point proven.