Airplane.

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“Good evening passengers, we are about to take off. Please fasten your seat belts. Thank you.”

I take a deep breath.
Wherever the plane takes me, I will be excited because it marks the time for something new again.

I’ve taken numerous flights, and airplanes have become an essential part of my life. Not many people enjoy their time flying, but for me, taking a flight is when I feel the most content. The hours become more valuable as I watch them elapse in the air.

Time ceases when I am flying.
Peace and comfort devour my body, drive my mind flowing ethereally as the plane carefully moves. The window vaguely reflects my face.
Then I start to think about nothing and everything.

“Take care my honey. We’ll miss you.”
I think about my family, the people who cultivated me. I see their encouraging smiles with concealed tears. But don’t cry my dears, I have set off to find my own sky, full of challenges but I am growing stronger.

“What time is it in your city? How are you doing there?”
I think about my friends, the people who have accompanied me from felicity to frustration, from failure to success. But don’t worry my friends, remember you are never alone. We fight for different goals, but we share the same sky.

“Who am I? What am I doing?”
In the end I think about myself. I see a little girl running back and forth curiously, turning into a mature figure with determination and aspiration. I am just an ordinary star from the endless galaxy, but I strive to be the most brilliant one.

I think about my dreams.
My dream of becoming a journalist ignited on the plane many years ago, when I read a newspaper for the very first time. I was amazed by the amount and variety of information that a piece of paper could convey. The dream has never vanished since then.
Just like a plane, which erases the distance and serves as a bond between different cities, countries, and even continents, journalism embraces the idea of connecting the whole world.

The destination of a flight is determined from the tickets. You know you will get there eventually, but the process is exciting and full of glamour.

Mostly, the flight is mundane enough for people to fall asleep; therefore, most of the time, people would miss the grace of sunset, the alienation of midnight, and the excitement of breaking dawn.

But a flight is not always soothing, turbulence is inevitable.
The valiant plane, however, breaks through the choppy air and punctures the woebegone clouds.
All of a sudden, you feel the warmth from the glaring sun that shines right above, and I guess this is what I enjoy about flying.

I take a deep breath.
Once you are flying at 37000 feet, you have a lot of time to think. That’s beautiful.

Looking outside the window, I see my vague reflection, and another crystal world which at this moment, only belongs to me.
Life is a journey, so I keep flying.

International Lunch

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

As I mentioned in my previous post, Baklava, our school put on an international lunch on Sunday. Students from different countries and backgrounds cooked a native dish, and everyone else got to eat it. A guy from Italy made real Italian pasta (and let me tell you, it’s all it’s hyped up to be). A pair of twins from Japan made sukiyaki, someone else made guacamole, salsa, and tacos, and I made baklava.

There was a ton of food, and it was really really good. It was really cool to be able to taste the different foods from different countries, as made by people who actually lived there (even though I never have lived in Greece). The food wasn’t from a restaurant. It was made by someone who lived there, ate it regularly, and knew how to cook it.

It was delicious.

Especially the homemade by a real Italian pasta.

Although the turnout wasn’t as much as was expected, those of us who were there had a lot of fun and really enjoyed the food. In my mind, it was a success, and hopefully we do it again soon.

Baklava

Daphne Psaledakis1 Comment

As some of you may know, I previously wrote a post proclaiming the wonder that is Greek Food. One of the foods I wrote about was baklava, a delicious Greek dessert made of phyllo dough, walnuts, cinnamon, sugar and honey. It is so good.

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Well tomorrow, my school is taking advantage of all the different nationalities of their students, and putting on an international lunch, where people will cook their native food. Now, I’ve never actually lived in Greece, although I am Greek. I was asked to make baklava, and although a little apprehensive of my ability to do so, I decided to give it a shot.

It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, surprisingly. The most difficult part was handling the phyllo dough, which is just as hard as everyone says it is. Despite the time it took to put together, it wasn’t a nightmare to make.

I didn’t use a family recipe or anything, just a combination of two I found on the internet. Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks, but for my first time, I don’t think I did half bad.

Green Tea Ice Cream

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The following is a fictional story.

Our first kiss was on Christmas.

A few days after I had flown to China I went to dinner with some family friends. I had wine with them but I was definitely not drunk.

His phone had no reception, so he called me using his friend’s phone and asked me to go hang out with him.

We had ice cream together. I think we were both nervous about it because it was technically our first date, not to mention the fact that we were both going through jet lag.

Everything was so wintry and Christmassy around us, behind that real fancy mall, with the real whiny lights. That’s all I could remember, even though I had closed my eyes.

Yes, it was freezing on the street but we still had ice cream. Well, he did, but I was too full from dinner.

He had green tea ice cream, which is my favorite.

There weren’t many cabs around, so we stood around waiting for a while. Then, all of a sudden he kissed me.

It was the little one, the little kind of kiss, and I remember he had his eyes closed. He had glasses, so it was difficult to see, but I think he had his eyes closed.

It was just there, the taste of the ice cream on my lips, and I could feel it even though I didn’t see it.

I’m even jealous of myself of that kiss. He’s so tall that he had to bend down to kiss me, and his jacket was open, so it’s like I was literally surrounded by him. It was freezing on the street, and he was warm.

But his friend was there too, but he probably didn’t pay attention to us. And we didn’t feel he was there.

It was 9:30 at night. To me, it felt like my first kiss. I felt the green tea ice cream.

I was nervous and didn’t know how to react, so I just closed my eyes. I think I was thinking, “ahh, we finally kissed.” And all I knew was that he was there, bringing me warmth in this freezing winter.

And our kiss, ok, it was on the 29th.

Nightmare

indigoshellLeave a comment

It’s a horse. Can you guess what colors plague their minds the most? It’s black. The dark color that overpowers all, that can swallow up anything lighter that dares to power through.

This horse is all black, smoking, shimmering, not hidden like Conscience but not sharp like Shadow. Her socks are grey, her hooves pulse, she plods along, following me, aiding me. Her name is Nightmare but she is Hope. She is Beauty. She is Power.

She, in her huge Gypsy form, is difficult to see. Hope shows up the least and they can see no Beauty in this world. This world is destroyed. Corrupted. Shattered. Gods know what plans the world has for lowly humans.

Nightmare lives on. She, in her huge Gypsy form, fights Shadow and Conscience and will never let Hope and Beauty die. Her Power is immense, never weakening, but one day she will die.

She feeds on Hope and Beauty, and they are on their way to extinction. The good powers of this world, the bright sunlight, the clear winds, are being swallowed by the seething black haze that eats all.

Nightmare has left me and begins to die.

Valentine’s Day

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

As most of you know, or should know, Valentine’s Day is quickly approaching, and as ever, Facebook is lamenting “Single Awareness Day.” Every year, there is a group of people who don’t hesitate to make it known that they hate Valentine’s Day because it makes them feel bad about themselves, when really, if having a relationship determines your self-worth, you should feel bad about your principles.

And then there is the group of people who do have dates for Valentine’s. They fret about the perfect gift for weeks, hoping that they can show their date just how well they know their other half through the present they get for them. This causes people to go all out and spend pretty much all the money they have worked so hard to earn. What should really be a simple romantic holiday has been turned into a commercialized event that makes people feel left out.

Instead of going out and buying the most expensive gift you can think of and still somewhat afford for your date, you should try to hand make something a little more heartfelt. It’s through being creative that you can really show someone how well you know them, and not that you just listen to them talk about something they really really want. And people who don’t have a date should use Valentine’s Day as a chance to be goofy with friends, or have a girls’ night. Valentine’s isn’t designed to rob people’s banks and make others feel bad about themselves. It’s designed for you to be able to show your love to someone – whether it be your boyfriend, parents, siblings, or friends.

Nicknames

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

Pretty much everybody has a slew of embarrassing nicknames. If you don’t, your family is way too nice. Over the years, thanks to my wonderful dad and brothers, I have accumulated quite the collection of nicknames. All but one are pretty embarrassing, which made my brothers way too happy.

When we were younger, my brothers would insert my name into the song “Yankee Doodle.” And if that wasn’t bad enough, I also became Daffy Duck. When they first started with those nicknames, it would make me even angrier at them than I usually was. Since then, I have come to accept the fact that I just make them do it more by creating a fuss about it. So I’ve learned to embrace it — or at least pretend that I have.

The worst is when your family slips and tells your friends some of your nicknames, or worse, your evil teacher who then coins even more embarrassing nicknames. Thanks, Dad.

Those aren’t my only two nicknames, and I will admit that I probably have more than the average person. But I am definitely not the only one with a family who takes joy in embarrassing me, and I’m not the only one with a nickname. I would think everyone knows what I’m talking about.

Let’s Talk About the Super Bowl

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

As a Colorado resident, watching the Super Bowl yesterday was a bit embarrassing. The Broncos haven’t exactly been the strongest team in the past, but this year they improved considerably. The fact that they made it to the Super Bowl is pretty impressive in itself. Their performance during the Super Bowl was not.

The commercials were the most interesting part.

The Chevy Silverado commercial was a riot, and the Maserati commercial was probably the deepest car commercial I’ve ever seen. And Budweiser, of course, left eyes watering with their adorable puppy commercial. I was impressed by the commercials, although some people have claimed them to be lackluster this year.

I was also pleasantly surprised by the halftime performance. I did not have very high expectations for Bruno Mars, but his dancing and attire made up for his cheesy lyrics. He was better than Madonna at least.

So basically everything about the Super Bowl except for the actual football part was pretty cool. The football was just sad. It left a lot to be desired for a much-talked about match up. And even though I was rooting for the Broncos, I can’t be completely angry at the Seahawks for bringing home their first championship.

The Road thats been taken

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rtrt4

Old roads built out of bricks and blood,

The man fell down with a heavy thud.

Stabbed from all sides, cornered in a hall,

It did not take long for the man to fall.

His supporters had adored his great rise,

They had seen the word through his eyes.

His life did not begin well, nor was its end.

Believers believed that he could mend.

A democracy crumbled, a dollar destroyed,

To him the nation is but a toy.

He played with it wrong and paid the price,

A violent end to a quick life.

He Shines.

enternity1030Leave a comment

“Why do you love him?”
“Because he shines.”

He shines so bright
that the light is strong enough
to penetrate all the fear and timidity
to stream into the blood
to devour every corner of the soul
to fulfill each second with meanings

and eventually
leaves a hole on the dying heart