The World I Know
This past week, I had another relapse. I wanted to quit, because that was the easy thing to do. But I'm not going to quit. Yesterday, I realized that I was happiest when I have something to throw myself into. Research, a project, planning a trip. I need something on which I can focus all my energy.
And I've been treating this change as something I need to do in order to be happy, rather something I want to do. I'm going to view my new process of change as something that I want to do, something that I can throw myself into.
If anyone out there reading this is a mother, happy Mother's Day!
Anyway, based on my Friday night revelation, I'm going to focus on my health before I focus on anything else. Of course I'll still think about and try to practice spirituality, but I want to establish healthy exercise and eating habits before I do much else.
And I think this would be the perfect time to go entirely vegetarian. For the past several years now, the only meat I've eaten is poultry and fish. But now I'm cutting meat out entirely. I was doing some research today, and it's totally possible and easy to be a vegetarian. However, there is no way I could be a vegan. I love dairy too much. I'm never giving up milk and cheese.
I shall close this entry by saying: I wish high school was over.
Last night, I crashed and burned. It was a crappy, yucky, cloudy, drizzley day; I had taken an AP test in the morning; I didn't meditate yesterday or the day before; and I skipped my walk because of the weather and watched Law & Order
and ate pretzels instead. Then someone made a tiny comment. A tiny, small, inconsequential comment, and I broke down. I put "Acoustic #3" on repeat, and played solitaire for almost an hour and a half. There were tears streaming down my cheeks, and I knew
that comment didn't cause them. I really have no idea why I was crying last night, but that single comment triggered something.
And then all day today I felt really cynical. I felt snappish, and just hated the entire human race. And then I felt despair at ever turning my life around. I still felt horrible; nothing had changed. I've changed from watching Law & Order
reruns, to watching Friends
reruns, which is worse.
And whenever I think of my packed weekend, I feel like I'm never going to be able to get this show on the road. I don't have time or the energy to "find myself" or go on a "spiritual journey." I thought about giving up this whole thing and going back to my easy life on a couch in front of a TV.
But that won't make me happy. The thing I have to realize, and probably won't be able to, is that things won't change if I don't make them. Easier said than done.
I was trying to force myself to change too fast. That isn't what caused my breakdown, though. But it did cause the disillusionment after the breakdown. I expected too much of myself. No, I'm not putting myself down, just stating a fact. I expected the change to come immediately, with next to no effort on my part. And a week, to me, isn't immediately.
So I think, from now on, I'm going to take my spiritual change a little slower. I won't meditate everyday (because that is a source of frustration in itself), but will take a walk everyday, no matter how cold or rainy it is. The walks calm me down, and ever since I got a pedometer I feel like I've made actual progress in my walking (12,035 steps today as of my writing this).
I'll be able to come back later with a good attitude, and hopefully will be able to calm myself down before another breakdown.
Woe to the US, if These are our Leaders
This doesn't have much to do with the topic of this blog, but something compells me to say it.Senator Harry Reid
came to my school to talk today, and because of this talk I have lost so much respect for him. I was in a little bit of awe over this guy. He came from humble beginnings, and now he's the Minority Leader in the Senate. He wields great power in this nation.
He opened up with social security. "Bush is lying, blah blah blah, social security is not running out, blah blah blah." But the majority of the hour he spent with us students was a Q & A session. He got some really intelligent questions. People asked about abortion, marijuana, NCLB, gay marraige. He never actually answered a single question.
Brittany asked how he reconciled his pro-life views with a generally pro-choice constituency. He said young people need to be educated about the risks so they don't get pregnant.
Alice asked what needs to be changed about No Child Left Behind, besides the money. He said it should be funded.
Britanny also asked what he was going to do to stop gender discrinimation in the workplace. He said it was horrible how women were paid less, and something should be done about it.
That's just a sampling of the questions he didn't answer. He danced around every issue. It was like he was thinking, "Oh, abortion, I can talk about this," and not considering that the question is about something specific concerning abortion.
Senator Reid is an intelligent man, and I'm not surprised he won the 2004 election with such a wide margin. He's one of the best politicians at the national level, in my opinion. And if he's one of the best, what do you think that says about politicians in our country?
A Walk in the Park
Last night I bought a pedometer. It's nice and blue, and only cost me $3.88 plus tax. I wouldn't have bothered, but a pedometer is a nice way to measure my walking progress, and it was cheap. I kept screwing with the buttons all day, so right now it's not very accurate, but since about 2:45 I've taken 4,471 steps, which is 2.11 miles. Of course, I haven't set it to my stride length yet, so that 2.11 number is not very accurate, but it's a good ball park. The goal is to get to 10,000 steps a day. The little booklet calls it the "10K-A-DAY program." I just need to double what I walk everyday, and I should be fine. It shouldn't be too hard.
Anyway, I made myself a "Good Mood Music" playlist on iTunes. There's 121 songs on it. I'm going to try to listen to it whenever possible.
So I set out on my walk today armed with my pedometer and my playlist, ready to breathe fresh air without breathing in those gnat-type bugs. It was such a nice day. Even though the sky was about half covered with clouds, they were the fluffy white clouds. And it wasn't until today that I really noticed all the flowers. There are a bunch of little purple and white ones. Some flowers which remind me of daisys, except they're an explosively bright yellow. Those are my favorites.
A Complete Overhaul
Saturday night, I went to see The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
with my friend Sally and her sister. I have another friend, Tyler, who works at the theater. Being a completely awesome guy, he gave me two small bags of popcorn for free (one for me and one for Sally). At first I didn't realize that he was giving them to me for free, so I said, "I'll go pay for this now," and he replied that it was for free. I felt sort of dumb for a second or two, then took my popcorn and went to watch the movie.
But when I got home I could not stop beating myself up about not realizing that he was giving me the popcorn. I would stop thinking about it for a few minutes, then all of a sudden I would say to myself, "I'm so dumb!" I was obsessing over this tiny little thing three hours after it happened. Tyler probably forgot it almost immediately.
But that was not the first time I had felt that way. For a few years now, I've been feeling a bit on the crummy side most days. A few months ago it suddenly got exponentially worse. On Saturday I felt like complete and utter crap. I don't think that was the lowest I've ever been, but it was pretty damn close.
So then, about 1:00 AM on Sunday, I decided that being happy had to be better than being unhappy. I madly googled words like "meditation," "spiritually," and "happiness." I wanted to change my life. I wanted to come out of this depression, and live my life like it really mattered. Yes, that is rather cliche, but it has become cliche for a reason.
I vowed to myself that I would actively work to change my outlook on life, and the way I live. No more staying up late listening to the same song over and over while playing solitaire. No more plopping on the couch every day after school with a bag of Orville Redenbacher's to watch Law & Order
all afternoon. No more friends-locked LiveJournal entries about how much I hate a particular person.
I made a promise to myself to take a walk through the park every single day. Meditate every single day. Eat wholesome and healthy foods. Don't dwell on mistakes, but do dwell on happy things. Be genuinely nice to people. Appreciate life.
Now this blog is going to document my new "journey," if you will. Wish me luck.
Ah, spirit week. A week of wacky dress up days, and extra credit for participating. As all spirit weeks must, ours had a Twin Day, which was today. However much I resent "Twin Day" as a day in which two unrelated people wear the exact same thing as if they were "twins," I have to admit it was pretty interesting. Delia, Lisa, and Tyler all have pretty much the same haircut, so they decided to dress up for Twin Day. Tyler in a skirt is something I'll never forget. And it was Delia's skirt, too. It's amazing that Tyler even fit into it; but what's even more amazing is how many boys have actually worn her clothes. She is cursed with guy friends who like to crossdress.
Sometimes I eat my lunch upstairs, and so have a chance to observe a phenomenon of sorts. I have no idea who it is, but someone likes to keep a radio in his or her locker, and rarely turns it off. So I'll see someone walking down the hall. Suddenly she stops, turns her head to the wall, and walks over, perplexed. She crouches down, listening for a moment, then shrugs her shoulders or shakes her head and mutters, "Weird."
The Stuff that Brings Fame
The Biggest Little Comp in the West was yesterday. The past two years I competed, but this year I volunteered as a belayer instead. Why, you ask? I didn't want to embarrass myself. And I would have, too. Dave was saying a few weeks ago that he's on a 5.13 plateau. Well, I'm on a 5.10 plateau. I climbed my first 5.10 two years ago, and now I can barely climb a 5.11. 5.13s are in my far distant future, if they're in my future at all.
Anyway, the comp. Not as much fun volunteering as I expected it would be. I was on my feet all day, and didn't get to eat lunch until three. Not to mention this one woman popped her knee out of its socket while she was climbing one of my routes. Fun stuff all around.
However, I did belay a girl that will one day be famous. No doubt about it, she's going to be a famous climber. A kid I talked to told me that she's already been on the back of a magazine. There was a red route on the wall I was belaying. It had to have been at least a 5.11, and I saw countless numbers of people fall on it. She sent that route like she does things like that everyday. Which she probably does. Needless to say, she got first in her age division.
And so that got me thinking about high school and fame. The vast majority of people, if they do become famous, do so after graduating high school. We've already got one or two semi-famous people. This one kid (who cheated off my vocabulary tests in freshman English) was on an episode of that Nickelodeon show "All That," and has also modeled. And so I wonder how many of my friends will be famous in the coming years. I, of course, will win the Nobel Prize. She'll become the next new pop singer. He'll create world peace.
Okay, to be realistic, no one at my school will ever be that famous. But it makes one think. All the current celebrities had to go to high school somewhere. And maybe, just maybe, one or two of the next generation's celebrities will be from my high school.
Post the First
Over the years, I've had an on-again, off-again relationship with journals and/or diaries. Whenever I go into a bookstore I leave with a shiny new notebook, prepared to pour my heart and soul into it every single day. And then, for a few days, maybe a few weeks, I write in it diligently every night before I go to sleep. No doubt the vast majority of what I write is supremely boring. The next biggest chunk is pure angst. There are maybe ten sentences filled with something that anyone other than me would actually care about. Not that anyone else is going to read it, right? I was writing it just for me.
And so, after a few days or weeks I begin to realize something. Diaries are dumb. I already talk to myself enough, I don't need to write to myself. Some people say that it makes them feel better, or helps them through some problems. Well, not me. Diaries are dumb.
Blogs, though, are entirely different. Other people are meant to read blogs. I feel so idiotic writing something when I know no one's going to read it. Well, one might argue, no one's going to read this blog. And my counter-arguement to that would be: very true. But! There's always the possibility
. After all, there are millions of bored internet-surfers, who need some inane rambling to fill their inane lives. I should know, I'm one of 'em.