blog of my life

When I write a blog every week, I feel like I spend more time wondering what to write about than I do writing. I am already wondering what I will write about next week.

But that aside, this week I would like to write a little about my past. Every time I write this blog I am reminded of my elementary school. Because I kept a one-page notebook diary every day from the first grade to the sixth grade. I cried when I was little because I was chased by farm animals, and I started washing my own hair at the age of 1.5 years old because I wanted to imitate my older sister in everything. I grew up with a lot of love from my teachers in kindergarten. I attended an all-girls school from elementary school until the summer after my freshman year of high school. My memories of elementary school were about trying different things. I did many things at school, such as being a member of the class council and student body president. My favorite class was physical education. I took first place in physical fitness two years in a row. The thing I looked forward to most on weekends was going on the trapeze with my friends. In junior high school, I gave up ballet, which I had been doing since I was two and a half years old, and started playing soccer. This was a big change for me, as every weekend and every vacation was filled with soccer. However, soccer was my youth, and I can’t count the number of things I gained from it. Also, the short-term study abroad program I mentioned in middle school was a big reason why I am here in the U.S. now, and it has changed my life. I lead a rather mundane life, but the people I have met have been wonderful and have enriched my life.

I am very much looking forward to the people and environments I will meet in the future. To be honest, I am dreading the preparation for college. lol

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Youth

Back then, war was a card game, race issues were about who ran the fastest, and protection meant wearing knee pads,

and a timeout was the worst punishment we knew.

Back then, our parents were our heroes, the safest place was in mom’s arms, and the highest place on earth was dad’s shoulders.

Back then, we shared toys, not boys. Back then we said “thank you” more than “I’m sorry,” “yes” more than “no,” and “I love you” instead of “I hate you.”

Back then, guys played sports, not girls,

back then, we looked forward to every day instead of dreading it,

back then, we were scared of the dark, not the world,

and back then we couldn’t wait to grow up.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

The last Monday night at 17

This was an extremely tired and annoying Monday, just like all Mondays.

I just had a chocolate cupcake at the lounge for my friend’s 15-year-old birthday.

Walked back to my room, was getting ready for the shower. Suddenly I realized that it is my last Monday night being the age of 17, kind of scary to think about. My birthday is coming soon, so soon. I’ve been waiting for this birthday for a pretty long time. But right now, it suddenly becomes so close, and I am afraid. At the end of this week, my adult life will begin.

photo credit: teefury.com

Be mature, it’s what I always want, at least this is almost what everyone else keeps telling me to do. They keep saying that I am way too childish, the way I am acting is not matching with my age. I guess this is time to make a change. 

It is also the time to be responsible for my own future, that I have been escaping recently. Chose to repeat a year in school, to give myself a little more time and think about it. Now that time is up, there should be an answer to it.

photo credit: insurancejournal.com

Creeping it Real: High School Halloween

When I was three, my parents told me about the Halloween Pumpkin. I could keep as many pieces of candy as my age and if I put my the rest of my candy on the door step before I went to bed, the Halloween Pumpkin would come during the night and leave me a toy. They made sure to tell me that he would only come if you gave him a couple days notice and only my parents could deliver my wish to the Halloween Pumpkin. At least a week before October 31st,  I would contemplate for hours (or at least what felt like hours to a young child) about what types of candy I would keep and what amazing toy I would receive the morning after Halloween.

Last night, my friend and I went to go to a haunted house. The house was closed, so they gave us a bunch of candy. I figured, I’m really not going to eat this because of carbs, sugar, and the amount of calories. When I got home, I went up to my parents’ room.”Bey, remember the halloween pumpkin,” I asked. “If I put this on the door step, will it magically turn in to twenty bucks by tomorrow morning? Tell ya what, I won’t even keep fifteen pieces”

“Nice try,” my parents said. “But, no.”

When I was younger, I remember going trick or treating every year.  I would count down the minutes until I could knock on doors and hold out my spookily-decorated candy basket. My friends would start counting down the days until the magical holiday as soon as October 1st rolled around.

Nowadays, it seems my Halloweens consist of hours of homework with the occasional  annoying interruption of happy children knocking on the door.

Sometimes, I wish I could just put my Halloween candy on the front porch and the Halloween Pumpkin would come during the night and give me what I wished for: the chance to be kid again.

Photo Credit: foxnews.com

What is Wrong With Youth Soccer

Being a referee, I have seen many youth games as an outsider. But I also have played both club and organized soccer as a kid. Now that I see the insanity from an outside prospective, I am a little taken aback.

Youth Sport Violence image

I think that every child should play soccer as a kid. This is an incredibly biased opinion but it does have merit. Soccer is a great sport for kids because it is simple in rules but complex in thinking. There are no plays drawn up, the player has to figure out what he or she needs to do. Soccer is also very physically demanding — a good amount of long, slow distance mixed with sprinting. For the development of kids, soccer is great.

But here is the dark side: parents. This is also biased because almost every weekend I have to deal with parents who are upset and out of control. Parents ruin soccer for kids. If the parent starts caring more about the game than his or her child, something is wrong.

Parents are their to support their kids, not to scream obscenities at the other team, the ref or another parent. I have seen many a child’s faces go a deep red when he or she hears his or her parents screaming from the sideline.

Parents should be involved with their sons and daughters soccer education. But parents need to learn to control themselves. I know that how badly they want their kid to win and to demolish the other team but can they please keep it to themselves. When they open their mouths to yell things like “Break his leg!”, “Pull her down!”, “That’s right, take that losers!”, they simply look immature.

Parents want their kids to be great and there is nothing wrong with that. But the kids will either motivate themselves to play soccer or they won’t. Chances are that the kid won’t stick with soccer if they have parents yelling at them from the sideline.

So parents take my advice: Encourage your kids, support their team. But please calm down and let the kids play. After all, its youth soccer.

Age.

Youth is something people long to get and long to get rid of.

I’ve heard people yearning:

“I wish I was eighteen, now.”

“I wish I was twenty-one!”

“I wish I was a teenager again.”

“I wish I could skip high school and just go into life as an adult.”

 

“I wish I could go back to high school; just one more time.”

But why wish would you wish to be another age then the one you are?

If you’re young, a teenager, you have so much of life ahead of you. Every move you make can lead into the next big adventure or the next life-changing event. If you miss those moments then what is life when you’re older? How would you be if you just skipped some of the most important years of your lives when you shape who you are and how you live?

And if you’re older, wishing for the “glory days” of high school and college, don’t. If you’re old, it doesn’t mean you’re uncool, it means you’ve lived through more and seen more than any of us could imagine. If you’re 103, you’re one of the strongest people alive. You’ve lived through both world wars, a depression, countless of economy scares and who knows what else? You’ve lived life, and you shouldn’t try to hide it.

So whether or not you’re old or young or somewhere in between, don’t wish to be another age. Be happy with what you have experienced and what you are about to. Cherish life, because it might be the only one we have.