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31 Aug“So What?”

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excerpt taken from To Be Told by Dan B. Allender

“What if we asked the question, ‘So what?’ during and after every television show and movie and poem and novel? My guess is that we wouldn’t waste as much time in the drivel of mere entertainment…”

As I was reading through this book (filled with some pretty interesting stuff by the way) I was struck by this section. I’ve been cutting back on the pointless tv shows I watch, on the books I choose to spend my time reading, music, etc but this particular method struck me as so. duh. and yet I had never thought about it before…

So many movies are cute, funny, exciting but when they are over did I really get anything out of them?

I’m thankful to be able to say that all my favorite movies did have deeper meanings for me but certainly if I counted up the total movies I’ve seen in my life (and I’d rather not thank you) and subtracted the number of movies that had meaning…I don’t think that number would be drastically smaller.

Sadly we all fall into being consumers, smiling at the flashing images and sounds that drown us out from real life and provide relief from stress.

I don’t think that everything I watch or listening to needs to be for school, but it should be informing me, teaching me, enlightening me somehow.

Sometimes things simply need to inspire me. I watch an interesting fantasy movie and suddenly I have an idea for a new story!

I think if I used the method of “So What?” more often, I would have a more fulfilling “free-time” life.

Speaking of my life, I unfourtanetly will not be continuing blogging three days a week. Staring down my school load of this upcoming year, I don’t want to commit to extra things like blogging instead of homework. That isn’t to say that if I need a homework break or I have a brilliant though I won’t blog it. But I won’t make a special effort just to blog until I at least get my schedule down (say October or later?)

Category(s): Health, Hobbies, Personal Opinion, Ramblings, School, Studying

28 AugAction

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“The smallest deed is better than the grandest intent.” – Larry Eisenberg

I got that quote of the internet so I doubt it’s actually attributed to the right source but I love the idea behind the words anyway.

I have lots of intents in my life. I have lots of ideas. Lots of plans. I could fill up a library with things I’ve wanted to do. Plans I’ve wished to fulfill. Actions I hoped to accomplish.

But somehow I doubt I could fill up even five nice books with things I have done that are worth mentioning. Because when it comes right down to it, more often than not I’d rather sit in my chair and read or watch other people live out their lives than jump up and fulfill mine.

This is a common problem in life. Especially in my society. Especially with people my age.

The problem with taking action is that it’s going against the flow.

It takes no effort to go with the flow (dead fish float in the water and go downstream) but it causes friction to go against.

This will be my junior year of high school. Whenever I mention that to someone older than myself, they gave me “the look” of pity and concern as they condescendingly say, “Oh yes, I remember that…it was the hardest.”

I want to go against the flow this year. I want to do things I’ve been meaning to do forever. Work on my blog, my other blog, spend more time with my pets, play the guitar more, start my non-profit community organization thingy and do well in all my classes.

I set my goals high. I don’t always meet them, but if I don’t at least try, I’ll never know.

~ Alison

Photo Credit (and rights) here

Category(s): Health, Personal Opinion, Ramblings, School

27 AugFind your place…

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I didn’t post yesterday. Silly me, already wrecking my plan of posting on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. *dramatic sigh* However, I do have a reason. In fact, I would like to blog about why I couldn’t blog yesterday (this could get confusing) namely because I was gone all day.

I, and ten other homeschooled teenagers in my speech club, were asked to be interns  this year. So with that preliminary stage finished, we now had to join together for some planning and bonding time.

I love speech club. Three years ago, two years ago even, I would never have thought I could say that. I suffered from horrible stage-fright most of my life. Stick me in front of a group of people and I would feel like I was dying. Now, although I’m still working out the kinks, I can really enjoy doing speeches for an audience, as long as I’m prepared. Being comfortable speaking took time but it also took being involved in a group that forced me to go outside my comfort zone while still being encouraging and helpful. Speech club is a great thing for us “unsocialized homeschoolers” and I am blessed by it.

Having a club of some sort is extremely helpful in highschool. It gives you something outside of your core classes (because most of us get sick of regular school by December) to look forward to each week. It can also be a fall-back for your identity. As teenagers, you are constantly questioning and searching for who you really are, and what you can really do.

I don’t mean to stick people in boxes here – I don’t consider myself a “speecher” just because I like speech club and do it. I think it’s a common myth that in high school you must be a “jock” or a “nerd” or a “gleek”, but having a club  filled with friends who you trust and like is a wonderful fall back for when you’re discouraged or just tired of regular life. They won’t tell you who you are, but they’ll trust in you even when you don’t know.

I know several people in the speech club who I could show up at their house all hours of the night and they would let me in.

Having a community, a little data-base if you will, of trusted friends is important to anyone, whether you’re in highschool or past it.

I’d encourage you to “find your place.” Find something that you enjoy doing, whether it looks great on your resume or is a completely worthless hobby, and find other people who enjoy doing it. Create some new friends. Push yourself outside your comfort zone. In a few years, you’ll be glad you did.

Category(s): Hobbies, Personal Opinion, Ramblings, School

24 AugBack to…

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Classes officially started yesterday for me.

Of course, only three. Spanish at the community college, math with the mother and anatomy homework by…myself.

I dislike the beginning of school, it’s like an invisible force that blocks me in. I can’t go off on my spontaneous “adventures”, I can’t have sleepovers with my friends on week days, I have to sit at my desk and study for tests, worrying about whether I’ll get into a decent college or fail a class.

With school comes long, boring hours at home. Long, boring hours in classes.

Last night something struck me. I’m not sure if it was worrying about doing a college class for the first time, just the sheer amount of reality that hit me, or my own stupid brain freaking out but I felt just absolutely awful.

I went looking for comfort from friends but unfourtanetly, my first source – namely my sister who I whine about everything to – was busy so I emailed three friends asking them to pray for me.

Half an hour later I’ve gotten texts, emails, facebook messages, and calls from all three of them. You can’t say that about many people.

One of the friends literally read my email and picked up the phone where she reassured me that I wasn’t such a loser.

I love my friends.

and I don’t have anything brillant or witty to say about them but I love them.

In fact, I’ll steal someone else’s words:

“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out”

“A real friend is the one who is there for you when he’d rather be anywhere else”

“A friend is one who believes in you even when you don’t believe in yourself”

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival”

“Friendship is one mind in two bodies”

Category(s): News, Personal Opinion

21 AugThe Classic Hero

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“He was only a young mouse boy, but of strong build, with a glint in his eye that proclaimed him a born fighter. A creature of few words who never chattered needlessly.” – Martin the Warrior by Brian Jacques.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard or read those words. I grew up with Redwall (the book series) and even now when I have “grown up” enough to leave those books behind, I still remember details from them.

The quote above struck me whenever I read it. I didn’t want to be one of those mindless talkers – those girls who gather in groups and giggle and talk about idiotic and senseless things. Even in everyday conversations I like people who cut to the chase – who leave out all the unnecessary details.

That isn’t to say that I’m forever a stoic (I hope not!), get me around a few of my best friends and I’ll put those gigling girls to shame.

But the more I think about that quote and why it struck me is because it appealed to the hero-adoring kid in me. It paints a pictures of the classic hero – the strong, silent sufferer and unreachable hero. The hero we can’t understand fully but completely adore.

Humans can’t read minds, and if you don’t talk we can never be fully sure if we really know what you’re thinking.

Silence is a refuge but it can also be a curse. To never be understood – that’s sad.

I still find myself admiring the heroes our culture gives us  (Batman will always be my favorite) but I’m glad I don’t have to live the life they do.

Category(s): Personal Opinion, Ramblings

19 AugShenanigans at the Flanagan’s

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At the beginning of this week our family did the unspeakable – namely, we went on a vacation.

Granted it was only three days, but still…for our family that is a monumental achievement.

Only being gone for three days, we went particularly worried about many of the things we were leaving behind at home – except, of course, the pets.

I, the avid animal lover in the family, have amassed a small collection of show and brood rabbits. While my dad, the closet animal lover of the family, has bundled together an aquarium full of fresh-water fish.

To top it off, I had been petsitting a neighbor’s dog at our house for the past week – but the beastie was being dropped off in it’s rightful home on our way to the beach.

The problem with having beloved pets is finding a good petsitter. Going on very few vacations, I have never established a firm petsitter in my life.

(My last petsitter was scared off after trying to deal with about twenty frozen rabbit water bottles every morning.)

I called up my friend Kate and asked if she would be up for it. She readily agreed, not knowing the pets I keep.

She came over two days before I left, where I handed her my instructions, roughly the size of the yellow-pages, and walked her through every step of my pet-feeding process and every possible bad scenario that might happen if my fan broke.

At the end of the lecture, she asked me if I often had problems with the pets. I chuckled easily and told her I hardly ever had any issues. Told her to come by Monday night and closed the door in her face.

The time was Monday evening. After a full day of driving and beach-going, we had crashed back in our hotel room when my cell-phone began shaking itself vigoriously. The tell-tale sign of someone calling me. I eagerly answered to hear Kate’s voice over the phone,

“We have a slight problem,” she said.

Then proceeded to give me a heart attack.

“Two of your rabbits got loose today.”

Apparently she called her mom and sister who came and chased my two miscreant creatures across the yard and back into the shed, where they cornered them and stuffed them back into their cages in less than half an hour. I was impressed. And sorry for her.

She then informed me that the key to the house I had given her was a dud. Only then did I remember that the key she had was a particularly nusiance. I explained the jiggling method she most employ to get the door to open and wished her luck as I hung up.

Five minutes later my cell phone started to jiggle again. I answered the phone to hear Kate speak the words,

“There’s a dog on your bed and it won’t let us near it.”

Twenty years of my life were gone.

Apparently, the dog I petsat loved me so much she decided to run away from her home and hide in our bushes until the door opened and she could make a run for my bed and safety. However, Kate handled the incident with ease, I gave her the number of the owner and she returned the dog to safety.

There were no more calls after that. For the well-being of my heart I’m glad of this.

Upon arriving back yesterday, I armed myself with delicious fudge from the beach, an apology note, and her payment, and marched myself down to Kate’s house where I expected to meet a scratched-up, over-tired friend glaring at me.

Thankfully, I know better people than that. Kate smiled, welcomed me in, gratefully accepted the fudge (who wouldn’t?) and told me the whole story with dramatic and hilarious details. I love my friends. I love my pets.

I can’t say I enjoy the combination though.

Category(s): BUNNIES!, News, Ramblings

17 AugHistory as taught in schools

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History is a subject in school which I have a love-hate relationship with.

On one hand, you find that most people, including me, enjoy learning about the people in history – the stories of lives lived and adventures…adventured? Whenever I re ad about famous people in History I want to know more details about them. What was their childhood like? What dreams did they have?

The problem with history in school is that it is not presented in a personal manor. History in school is facts. Hitler was bad. Fact. Columbus discovered America. Fact.  The battle was fought in 1450. Fact.

This way of viewing the world seems to me to be dry and dull. Boring and tasteless. Very few people enjoy learning facts. (Not I said enjoy, not are good at) History, in short, has false advertising. Histroy if accuretly presented is not boring or dull.

Just look at the word: his story  - history is the study of mankind.

Mankind is not as simple as facts. People are not facts. You rarely can use absolutes with people. If you say about me:

Alison loves to write

it is true in a general sense. Most often, I enjoy writing but there are specific times when I dislike it. I become exasperated by it and even just writing a sentence makes me work. I can, and do, become irrational and unpredictable. Every human becomes irrational. When we say something like.

Napoleon was a brilliant strategist, we confine our minds and ideas. Was Napoleon always a brilliant strategist? Was it something that he worked all his youth to perfect?

I wish history captured that better.

Of course, there is a genre created (historical fiction) meant to capture the “what ifs?” of history. However, I have my own qualms about this. Most historical fiction I’ve read either dabbles to little in real history and fills in the rest with incredibly speculative fiction (I don’t have any particular books titles to share for an example because I discarded those books) or a book remains so true to history (naming battles, numbers, etc) that it turns back into simple dry facts and is hard to enjoy (Personally I feel that G. H. Henty writes like that.)

I hope that someday they find a balance for History. I think that if treated properly, history is a subject that appeals to all types of students.

Category(s): Personal Opinion, Ramblings, Studying

15 AugLet’s see some self-control…

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Well at least I don’t cry about stupid things, I thought.

Like this? says the voice in my head.

Category(s): Personal Opinion, Poetry

12 AugOwl City – That Good Kind of Denial

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I love Owl City. If you discuss music with me, I will undoubtedly mention, in that annoying high-pitched voice, “Isn’t Owl City the best?”

But my like of Owl City progresses  beyond why I like many other popular artists and songs on the radio. Most songs are simply catchy or they have a nice beat and while Owl City is catchy, it transcends that.

Owl City is operated by one man: Adam Young. I find this in and of itself rather impressive. One young guy coming up with the lyrics, music and beats for all these incredible songs. Yes he does have other people sing sometimes but for the most part it is a one man show.

Adam Young, the man, is a vegetarian punner who “loves God.” He’s cute-looking and witty, what’s not to like? But, if you are stalkerish like me, you may read your favorite artist’s blogs. I read Adam Young’s and find it endearing and sweet. Adam has no trouble admitting his faults; in fact he intends to insult himself more often than not. He is not proud about his success, grateful sure but he never acts like he deserved all of this. He genuinely seems to care about family and friends and though he obviously has been exposed to the world of pop stars who continue to come up with more scandalous outfits and songs to keep in the spotlight, Adam rejects all that.

That really is why I think I find Owl City’s music so appealing. Sometimes the lyrics are criticized for being “childish” and “nonsensical” but I find his lyrics impressive. Adam has seen the world, with its ugly, cruel words and ugly, cruel people and he has not sunk to their level. His lyrics are child-like yes. He talks about saying goodbye to fireflies in one of his most popular songs but he does so tastefully and sweet. He has been able to maintain an idealistic view of the world throughout his life. That’s pretty darn hard to do nowadays.

When I watched his music video for Umbrella Beach I have to admit I was a tad bit disturbed. ( I would recommend watching the music video before you continue reading this) At the first viewing, the video shows a young boy fixing up a small toy car and putting wings on it, the ending shows his friends helping to push him and the “flying car” off a cliff at the beach. Then the video ends. I remember blinking in stunned shock at the computer screen, waiting for something else to appear but no, the music was over and so was the video. Scrolling down to the YouTube comments I saw, amidst the atrocious grammar, comments that were also shocked at the ending. They wondered why Adam Young had decided to show a small boy committing suicide in his video. At first, I agreed with them. Young’s lyrics certainly don’t sound as if he’s trying to talk about small children being disillusioned but then, what was the video all about?

That’s when it hit me, and perhaps I’m interpreting it wrong but…

Adam Young knows that you can view the world two ways. When something bad happens you can curse God for making it that way, or accept that it’s part of your journey in life. I think Adam is using the video to ask you how you interpret life. On viewing the music video, I immediately thought the boy had died. Instead of being willing to believe that he could fly away into the sunset. Why should I think this way?

Why are we so unwilling to believe that a small boy could make a flying car? Why don’t we dream and wish for some small bit of magic and excitement in our lives? Why do we interrupt things with the harsh ugly reality of life?

Adam Young held onto and nourished the idealistic, sweet view of life people usually lose before they even enter high school. And this idealistic view he shares with the whole world through his beloved, quirky music.

I love Owl City. And I love it’s message.

Adam Young lives in the real world. He certainly is not in denial, or maybe, he is just a bit. But can’t we all have just a bit of denial in our lives?

Category(s): Personal Opinion

10 AugThe Curse of Success

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Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Poe…

All the classic authors seem to have one depressing theme in common: Horrible Personal Lives

I know from experience that when a “writer” writes best is when emotions are high. You may be upset, angry, frustrated, drained, excited…whatever it is, the more emotions you have the better you write.

Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Poe all suffered for major bouts of depression. Hemingway ended his life by committing suicide. Poe fought drug and alcohol addictions his entire life, and Fitzgerald was Fitzgerald.

The ability to write well seems to be directly linked to how awful and depressed you feel.

Instead of it being a blessing, it’s almost a curse.

The ancient greeks and romans believed your inspiration for writing was given to you by higher beings. If you didn’t create something beautiful, it wasn’t your fault…it was those higher beings. Though I wouldn’t agree with that belief it seems to be a healthier way of viewing inspiration and success.

Writing well for “the greats” (if I may call them that) was not just a way to get money or be famous, it was a way they released angry and anxiety. It was the only thing that kept them alive at times.

Writing is a powerful, powerful tool. It can be a blessing, and it can be a curse.

There’s my two-cents for the day.

Category(s): Personal Opinion, Poetry, Ramblings, Writing
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