Build a Bridge and Get Over It

     Unfortunately, it is time to break out the good ol' blog again. Sometimes I can just hold in my anger, but this is ridiculous, and I can't handle it.
     So let's just look at the facts first and lay it out flat before I rant:

• Two sisters were in a SUV, driving down the road
• Aubrey (17 yrs old) was driving and Clare (15 yrs old) was in the passenger seat
• The speed limit was 35
• There was a little snow on the road and a small amount of ice as well
• A deer hit the passenger side door
• Aubrey hit the breaks and ended up spinning and landing in a ditch
• Car tilted against a tree
• Both the girls climb out and are fine with only bruising and small concussions.

Now that I have laid out the facts, I can continue with the story. Aubrey freaks out during the accident and has to be hooked up to an oxygen tank because she was hyperventilating so bad. Clare got out and ran to her mother, who had recently arrived, crying and "fell into the mothers embrace." Both of the daughters and the mother make a big deal out of the accident and so does the girls' friend Samantha. The two sisters and the mother all go on Facebook and say how their lives flashed before their eyes and how close to death they were. 

     Sadly for them, I can not handle how dramatic they all are making the story. They were no where near death. They were only going 35 mph at the most. If anything, they were going slower due to the snow. The reason the car spun is because Aubrey did not know how to control the car, but as it spun, all four tires were still securely on the ground. When they landed in the ditch, they were leaning against a tree. If the tree wasn't there then, yes, they would have landed on their top. They would not have flip completely over and at the slow rate they were traveling down the road, it couldn't have been that fast of a motion. The SUV was a very sturdy one and even if it did land on their top, the car would have been able to handle the weight and would not have been crushed much, if at all. Both of the girls were also buckled so they had nothing to worry about. 

     The next day, instead of coming to school, their mother cradled them and told them they could stay home due to the shock and pain they went through, keep in mind the girls didn't have any cuts on them, they were only sore. Aubrey stated that she wasn't in any pain ahead of time, but once the idea of her being able to stay home came up, all the sudden Aubrey was in unbearable pain. Also the friend who showed up during the accident also decided to stay home to help Aubrey and Clare around their house.
     Finally, after one day of staying home, the girls both come to school. I walk into school and see Aubrey limping. We go to class and Aubrey gets up to sharpen her pencil and all the sudden she doesn't have a limp anymore! Magic, right?! After class, we were walking down the hallway and all the sudden Aubrey had a limp again, only it was the opposite leg from when she started. In plain sight, everyone could tell she was faking a limp.
     At lunch that same day, I see the other sister, Clare. Clare seems to have a throbbing headache and so does Aubrey. They both eat and then end up going home instead of finishing the rest of the school day.
     Once again on Facebook, Aubrey posts something about the accident. Me, being the nosy person I am, couldn't help but read it. She was complaining about how much pain she was in and "...all because of the stupid deer." I lost it. I couldn't handle the complaining anymore, so I commented on it.
     "How do you think the deer feels? You killed it!" I thought it was clever. It got the point across without being too harsh. But then Clare pipes in.
     "The deer is fine. We are the ones who almost died." Hold up. The deer is fine. Let's start with that half. Um...try no?! The deer is not "FINE" it is dead somewhere! After that hard of an impact I guarantee he is dead. Now lets look at the second half. They didn't almost die! Are you kidding me?! They weren't even close. Close to death is flipping seven times in a car into oncoming traffic, and you are not wearing a seat belt. That is what you call almost dead. Almost dead is when you are hospitalized for a weak in unstable conditions and they don't know if you are going to make it.
     I am getting carried away; back to the story. Of course someone has to chime in and try to prove me wrong Grandma speaks up this time.
     "They did not hit the deer, the deer it them. I would much rather have a dead deer than dead grand-kids." I can't handle the stupidity of this family. They have now decided to twist my words, so now I am starting to get angry.
     "You are twisting my words.I was not implying it was better to have them dead. I was just saying the deer is dead. It was a joke but also there is no reason to call a deer stupid when us humans are the ones who destroyed its habitat."
     I was the last one to comment on the post. I guess I won the argument. I can't wait to get out of this town of idiots...

The Unfortunate Invention of Fracking

Hydraulic Fracturing, also known as fracking, refers to the process of injecting fracking fluid, water, soil and chemicals into the ground to extract oil and natural gas. With the use of hydraulics, the shale rock bed begins to crack. From there, many chemicals are pumped into the ground. Although many benefits can come out of this, there are many negative, life changing effects. Fracking should not seen as a revolutionary discovery but instead seen as an unnatural, harmful procedure.

Fig. 1. This is the illustration that shows the hydraulic fracturing, also known as fracking, process (How 1).

The process of fracking, in general, can be very harmful to the environment. Shale is a very fine-grain rock composed mostly of mud but also has some other sediments in it as well (ENERGY 20). An engineer wrote about the hazard of drilling into shale: “This is why shale gas is hard to get at. It's locked into hard rock under immense pressure, often deeper than conventional gas wells. Even if you drill into shale, the rock holds onto the deposits so tightly that it won't flow - hence its other name, 'tight gas'” (ENERGY 20). This means that, from the start of the process, it is not easy. The only way to get through the shale is to crack it. This can lead to a major concern: earthquakes. There are studies that connect hydraulic fracturing to earthquake growth in the United States:

A study headed by William Ellsworth of the U.S. Geological Survey in Menlo

Park, Calif., documents a dramatic increase in earthquakes in the Midwest coinciding with the start of the fracking boom. From 1970 to 2000, the region experienced about 20 quakes per year measuring at or above magnitude 3.0. Between 2001 and 2008, there were 29 such quakes per year. Then there were 50 in 2009, 87 in 2010 and 134 in 2011. (Ehrenburg 20)

Seeing as fracking makes the land unstable, this idea makes perfect sense. Earthquakes can cause large amounts of damage worth millions of dollars to repair. Looking at this, you are actually losing money in the long run and also losing stable land. Therefore, fracking causes more harm than benefits in the long run. It is hard to tell if the earthquakes are directly related to fracking, but evidence has shown hydraulic fracturing is most likely related to the increase in earthquakes.

There is, surprisingly, something even worse than the possibility of fracking causing earthquakes. At the end of the process, the fracking fluid is pumped back into the ground and sealed with concrete. Unfortunately, the chemicals do not always stay where it is supposed to. These chemicals can get into drinking water and contaminate it, making it toxic.  According to the article “Drill, Maybe Drill?“ by Alex Halperin, these chemicals can have very harmful affects on people: “The Endocrine Disruption Exchange (TEDX) obtained data on 246 products used in natural-gas production in Colorado and found that more than 40 percent contain chemicals that disrupt hormonal processes” (16). Another thing to think about is the fact that contaminated water is almost impossible to clean. Some of the chemicals are not even able to be removed from the water. Even the chemicals that can be remove are extremely hard to get out of water. Since water flows, it is hard to contain chemicals enough to remove them. The contaminated water is not able to be drank, used for bathing, or used to wash appliances. If this was to happen to a place where someone is living, it would be very hard for them to sell their house and move to a new location that has not been contaminated. This is because no one will want to buy a home where they are not able to drink, bathe, or wash items in the water. A curiosity is how harmful these chemicals can truly be. Although contaminated drinking water is a serious problem, the effects get worse. Rachel Ehrenberg, the writer of “The Facts Behind the Frack” mentioned the effects of chemicals within fracturing fluid:

As the gas comes out of a fracked well, a lot of this fluid comes back as

waste. Until recently, many companies wouldn't reveal the exact chemical recipes of their fluids, citing trade secrets. A report released in April 2011 by the House Energy and Commerce Committee did provide some chemical data: From 2005 to 2009, 14 major gas and oil companies used 750 different chemicals in their fracking fluids. Twenty-five of these chemicals are listed as hazardous pollutants under the Clean Air Act, nine are regulated under the Safe Drinking Water Act and 14 are known or possible human carcinogens, including naphthalene and benzene. (20)

Something to keep in mind is that Hydraulic Fracturing is exempt from the Clean Air Act, Clean Water Act, Safe Drinking Water Act, National Environmental Policy Act, Resource Conservation and Recovery Act, Emergency Planning and Community Right-to-Know Act. This is a long list of very important laws that Hydraulic Fracturing is exempt from. This raises suspicion of what is happening in the fracking process that citizens do not even know, as well as possible effects of fracking that might not have been released to the public. There is fear in the lack of knowledge on this topic. Joyce Stone, a clean water advocate, realized the dangerous effects of fracking after working so hard to keep water clean:

‘The whole thing is unreal,’ she explained. ‘I've worked since I was twenty

to try to get clean water and clean air. So many people have. We've made such huge strides. Back in Connecticut, where I'm from, so many rivers have been cleaned up. And Pennsylvania. And it's like the gas industry is just exempt from everything. They are reversing everything and poisoning the rivers that have been so clean now for forty years.’ (Federman 34)

Sadly, contaminated water from fracking is not a foreign thing to people. There are many towns out there that have contaminated water. As stated before, it is extremely hard to remove chemicals from water. The irresponsibility of the drillers is unexplainable.

Contaminated water isn’t the only harmful effect to humans. There are also problems that are created from the tanks holding the fracking fluid as well as other chemicals. These fumes can lead to respiratory problems. Carter, whose water had been contaminated due to fracking, reported back on the effects of both the contaminated water and air:

The water in it is too poisonous for drinking, cooking, or bathing. The oil

company also built a storage tank about 100 meters (330 feet) from his

home. The tank holds chemicals that are by-products of drilling, and area residents say it is venting fumes into the air day and night. Carter and his wife now have respiratory problems. ‘We'll have guests out here on the porch, but most people can't take it,’ he says. ‘Their eyes get watery, throats gets scratchy. One young lady had to leave. She couldn't breathe with all the fumes.’ (Kors 10)

These effects are long lasting. They can’t be taken care of within a couple weeks. If these chemicals get in the water, it will stay there and effect the living environment of both people and animals. The storage tanks from the chemicals are just as hazardous, if not worse.

Some people like to argue that fracking contributes to so many benefits including a drastic decrease gas prices. This may be true; however, the cost for the fracking process is much more, especially with the hazards it causes. It costs hundreds of thousands of dollars to remove methane, found in fracturing fluid, from well water, at least $193,000 for replacement water, and about $6 billion dollars if water is contaminated in a large city. On top of contaminated water expenses, there are medical issue costs as well. Silicosis, caused by fracking, has imposed $50 million medical care costs in the United States in 2007. For an example of health issues from fracking, air pollution from gas drilling in Arkansas region imposed public health costs of more than $10 million in 2008. There are also cases of headaches, eye irritation, respiratory problems and nausea which adds on to the expenses (Report).

With all these effect, there are also social effects that come with it. Due to the toxins released into the drinking water and atmosphere, there have been devastating effects on the environment. These contribute to effects on business income. With the death of animals, taxidermies lose profit because of less animals to hunt. Wildlife watching industries lose money because there are less animals to view (Report).

As all of these expenses and hazards add up, it is easy to see that fracking does more harm than good. Fracking might have been a good idea at the beginning, but looking at the effects, it is clear to see Hydraulic Fracturing needs to come to an end. If it does not, earthquakes, contaminated water, and health issues will become an epidemic within the United States.

Drop Out

I get it. Life can be hard. "It's hard to make the right choice when you're sixteen and know everything," a parent told me once. She was obviously joking, but how much truth is within that? When you are my age, you think you know everything. The world is your oyster and you can choose what you want with it! That's what I have been told at least. Unfortunately, many people at sixteen years of age don't realize how much is resting on their shoulders. Every little move effects the outcome of their future.

The steps are quite simple: kindergarten, elementary, middle school, high school. It is no wonder that by the time people hit high school they want out. Some people even decide to drop out before they even graduate. But, do they realize what they are doing with their lives when they do this?

 

This picture is one of my favorites. You never know how close you are to your goals, so never give up. When you are in High School, you don't realize how close you are to the end. You think "man, I have been in school forever," not "man, I'm almost done with school forever!"

A friend recently informed me she wants to drop out of High School. Seeing as I play a big role in her life, she wanted to know what I would do/ think if she decided to drop out. I honestly answered that I would be upset. I informed her how hard it is to get a well paying job without a diploma. Her and I had discussed in the past the fact she didn't want to go to college. After a long conversation, I accepted the fact. I knew she would have less job options, but I didn't lose hope in her. It was hard to see her go through this after years of depression. I knew the lack of motivation was definitely not helping the cause. 

Dropping out of High School is not something I can be persuaded into being okay with. It is a touchy subject with me seeing as I am a devoted child to school. But, as I have said before, It is hard to make the right choice when you're sixteen and know everything. I suggested a mentor to her; she shot me down with a shrug of her shoulders. I stated, "Do you realize how close you are to being done?!" It broke my heart when she said, "I'm not even close to being done." The words burned through my mind like hot coals on smooth skin. I began to tear up. 

The world is a hard place, but it only gets harder when you give up. The dreams you started working so hard for become nothing but wasted memories. Working eleven years toward graduating with it right at the tip of your fingers and then letting it slip away is probably the biggest waste of time ever. The thing you worked so hard for, so you could create a better life for yourself and your future family, you are letting fly away in the breeze like it meant nothing.

Honestly? I need advice. I need to keep my friend in school. If anyone out there has a few words of wisdom, please let me know. Keep the education flowing!

Why I am who I am

I am half French Canadian, a quarter Irish and a quarter German. This, on the other hand, does not define me. Sydney Marie Vernier has not been created by my ancestors. I have, through my family and experiences, created who I am today ;  in other words, I have been created over time. Let me try to explain myself. Literally. I started creating myself when I hit middle school. When I was little, I used to play in the yard and play with all the animals and bugs I found, but this hasn’t made me who I am today. I have always been a hard worker and devoted learner; in spite of this fact, I never really started learning until my time in middle school. I do not mean academically; I mean learning how to live. My parents used to be madly in love. This, unfortunately, started to fade when I turned about ten. First, It started with arguments.  They were loud! The house would quake under the roaring of my mother’s and father’s voices. I would sit in my room, listening to the rumble of arguments. I taught myself to self sooth. I would exercise, listen to music and keep myself busy to try and ease my worried mind. Next, came the backstabbing. My mom would come to my sisters and me and talk bad about my dad, and my dad would do the same thing as my mom.I knew it was none of my business.  I kept my mouth shut. I had become the adult, and my parents had become the children. It was terrifying. By the age of twelve, I had to grow up. My mom would bicker about my dad for a couple minutes just to vent off her anger from the argument; similarly, my dad would do the same. I used to cry a lot, so I quickly had to learn to hold back the tears and be strong. It just got worse, though. At the end, there was a divorce. I saw the divorce coming for years, so it didn’t shock me. The thing that shocked me, and affected me the most, was the fact my dad was moving so far away. Guam. The word echoed through my mind as tears rolled down my face. I didn’t know where it was. All I knew is it was far away. The distances of 7,342 miles was heart breaking. Also, to add to the pain, I wasn’t allowed to go to Guam. For legal reasons, I wouldn’t be able to go to Guam until I turned 18, which was a ways off. My dad reassured me I would be okay without him. He had taught me so much before he left: how to do the dishes, do the laundry, cook, and wake myself up for school. I was practically on my own. With my mom working all the time, I knew I had to fend for myself. I learned to take care of myself and not to take anything for granted. I didn’t realize, until he moved, how privileged I was to be able to see my father every day and be able to actually spend time with him. I got a reminder of this fact again when my aunt passed away. I was grieving over her death for many months. At the same time I was grieving, I got a wake up call. My dad had a collapsed lung. In the process of them fixing this, they had found cancer. My father had stage four lung cancer, which is very serious. Nevertheless, I kept my hopes high. Instead of falling into a deep depression, I pushed away my sorrow and looked on the bright side. It is hard to see the bright side when someone you hold close to your heart has cancer, but I didn’t let the sorrow stand in my way. I began to help people. I looked past my own problems and selfishness and began using my experience to my benefit. I raised money between my friends and me to send to my dad. The medical bills when you have cancer are very high. We raised a small amount of $147 dollars. It was a start. I didn’t only work to help my dad; I wanted to help everyone. I began being someone anyone could turn to. I didn’t judge the pain people felt, whether it was big or small. I counseled people I barely even knew and tried to understand everyone. It discouraged my sorrow and encouraged my happiness. It was something that made me realize I have life pretty good. Sure, my life isn’t perfect, but it could be a lot worse. My self-esteem, unfortunately, was not something easily fixed. When my father moved, I found myself trying to fill a hole in my heart that he left behind. I turned to trying to find the perfect boyfriend. It is a weird concept and many people look at me weird when I tell him this, yet, in all honesty, I was looking for a manly figure in my life. I fell into the arms of boys. I trusted easily because I wanted someone to understand what I was going through. I no longer wanted to have to self soothe. I wanted someone to comfort me and tell me everything would be all right. This only caused me to hurt more. Many people broke my trust before I learned to choose who I trust wisely. I had been emotionally and physically abused by boyfriends who “cared” about me. I have been pushed into a wall and been put down, adding to my insecurities. I built up walls and hid behind them so no one could hurt me. I tried to be invisible. I didn’t understand at the time that not everyone can be trusted. But, man, do I know now. Through all the pain and sorrow, I began to grow stronger. I found someone I could trust and began to tell him everything, good and bad. I met him at a memorial service. He had gotten my number from my friend and right off the bat said he would be there for me. I started with just turning to him with small things. He gave me comfort and made me laugh away the pain. He brought the hope back into my eyes. Days began to look brighter and my confidence began to build. He convinced me that anything was possible if I worked for it. I began striving to increase my grades, which had been slipping during the divorce and my downhill spiral.  I got more lively and always had a smile on my face. He would make up small competitions, like who could draw a better picture and who could get more blog views. He pushed me to become the best I could be; I couldn’t be more thankful. Over the years, I have been through a lot. It has been a whirlwind of emotions with lots of tears and pain, but it also has been a lot of laughs and good memories. I know my life hasn’t been perfect; however, I wouldn’t change it for the world. What I have been through has made me who I am today, and I wouldn’t ever want to change who I have become.

Proposal Responces

All animals form chemistry. The bond between two animals is what makes them end up enjoying each other enough to the point where they reproduce. People have this same type of chemistry. The instincts within people are what cause chemistry to form. Sometimes the chemistry matches well enough that it causes two people to fall in love.  In contrast to animals, when this contrast matches, humans usually have religious ceremonies which bond them together. We call this ceremony a marriage. Before marriage, there is always a proposal.  Throughout life, you will find many people get proposed to; however, there are several different responses to being proposed to that don’t always end in an engagement.

Men are, in most cases, doing the proposing. The traditional proposal follows certain steps: complement the women, get down on one knee, and ask her to marry you. A proposal is almost always extremely emotional. The most common reaction would be water works; in other words, the women will start crying her eyes out. These are tears of joy. The tears will stream down her face for a couple minutes during the initial shock of the proposal. The future bride with begin jumping up and down, happy to be engaged. She will repeat the phrase “Yes, yes, oh my God yes!” over and over with an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. Next, her face will begin to turn to a light shade of pink, which slowly fades into a dark red. Instead of grabbing for the ring, she will pull the man to his feet, looking for his arms’ embrace; nevertheless, the man will know her answer very clearly: yes.

When a women is proposed to, the women is usually happy, but this isn’t always the case. It can get bad. The chemistry can sometimes be felt by only one of the people in the relationship. This person, unfortunately, is most of the time is delusional and thinks the other person feels the chemistry as well. This is where things can get ugly. The man begins the steps of a traditional proposal: complements the women, and gets down on one knee. Despite the proposers best efforts, step three brings problems. The man doesn’t even have to say the magic words of “will you marry me.” The woman shakes her head, trying to deny the engagement without having to say it out loud. In spite of her best effort, the man continues with the proposal. The women, desperate to keep the words from exiting the man’s mouth, dumps her freshly poured mug of steaming coffee onto his head. By now, if done in public, everyone is watching, waiting to see how the rest of the proposal will play out. The man, still on one knee, stares at the women in astonishment, unable to speak. The women quietly apologizes, but the apology is barely even audible. Finally, the unengaged women storms off with without a ring. She will have an embarrassed look on her face, knowing she should have broken off the relationship before it had gotten that far.

As stated before, a proposal can be very emotional. However, sometimes it barely is. Some couples talk about the possibility of getting married before the engagement ring is even purchased. The two people in the relationship have mutually agreed ahead of time that they want to marry each other in the future. This results in a very mellow proposal. The man won't be stressed, seeing as he will already know what the answer to the proposal will be, and the women will be excited but not surprised enough to the point of tears. This type of proposal is usually very casual and comes without a single moment of tension. When the moment comes, words don’t even need to be spoken. The man kneels down on one knee; the woman responds with wide eyes. A huge grin stretches across her face and she nods her head politely. The woman holds out her hand and lets the future groom place the beautiful band on her left ring finger. He stands up, kisses her softly and then they spend the rest of the day as if nothing extraordinary had happened. This kind of couple usually doesn’t gloat about the proposal, but they will excitedly talk about it if someone asks. Although the proposal itself is quiet, the hearts of the newly engaged couple beat louder than ever. Their minds race as they think about what the future holds for them.

In the way today's society is structured, getting married to the one you love is a common occurrence. To be married, first there has to be a proposal.  During most proposals, there is emotional tension running through the veins of the proposer, which is understandable seeing as they usually don’t know how the women will respond. The fact of the matter is there are many different ways for a women to react to a proposal, and there is no way of knowing which reaction the proposer will get.

What is Intelligence really?

Life is complicated. For instance, The course of life can be changed with a simple click of a button now a-days. However, intelligence can be seen as the answer to life. Being smart helps you write a good resume, get into a high rated college, and be hired at a wonderful job that pays well. Thats the dream isn’t it? On the other hand, what is intelligence really? Well, intelligence isn’t all about having good grades in school.

Three rows back, left corner. I found myself sitting there day after day. When the teacher started talking, I could see more than half the class pull out their cell phones. I was among them. Don’t get me wrong, I worked hard in that class and made sure to ace all my tests.

“I graded all the tests last night for you guys,” the teacher stated as he passed out the tests. He handed me my test and I let out a sigh of relief. I got an A. Another A in my hand meant I was one step closer to graduating with a high GPA.

“Pst! Sydney!” Katie’s voice whispered from two seats over.

“What?”

“I got a C,” she whimpered, “My dad’s going to kill me.” The student sitting next to me had overheard our conversation.

“Wow. Are you stupid? This test was so easy!” the student said.

Those words still echo through my head today. I knew my friend Katie wasn’t stupid. She was very intelligent, but she struggled at that one subject.

Intelligence is problem solving. It is the student working hard not only to retain the information but to understand it. It is the ability to see a simple way of doing things. Intelligence is a small baby knowing how to feed off its mother's breast without being taught. It is the drive to deeper develope your passions and skills. It is simple. Being intelligent is a mechanic knowing how to change a tire, or a judge making a fair ruling. Intelligence is an infant learning how to control their hands and arms enough to figure out how to crawl. It is the student in the class asking all the “stupid” questions. The person at work, aiming to be the best possible employee is seen as intelligent. It is just the way of working to try to be the best in what one is good at. It is a process of development. Intelligence is only hard to find if you think it can be measured. Yes, some people show their intelligence more than others, but everyone is intelligent.

Intelligence is many things; on the contrary, there are a lot of things that aren’t considered intelligent.  While looking at someone, you can not see intelligence in their eyes. It is not something that can be held or shown at show-and-tell. In addition, even though many say intelligent people get high ACT scores, this doesn’t define intelligence either. It can not be measured with a percentage or even a ruler. It isn’t something lucky people are born with while others are not. It isn’t a student sleeping all through class and guessing his way through a test only to end up passing the class with a B. It isn’t the kid in the back of the class, staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until lunch time. Intelligence isn’t something that is just placed within people; it is the give and take to advance your strengths and push your weaknesses.  

Everyone is intelligent, just in his or her own way. For example, even though in our society serial killers are a disgrace, they are still intelligent. Serial killers are genius’ at knowing how to kill, and sometimes, even get away with it. It is just a matter of perspective. No one is a genius in all aspects of the word. Brilliant Albert Einstein, a well known inventor, once stated this simply: “Everyone is a genius. But, if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing it is stupid.” Similarly, this is like telling a history professor he isn’t intelligent because he doesn’t know how to construct a rocket. He is an intelligent man, just in the definition his job has created for him.

There are many different levels of intelligence and degrees of intelligence. Not everyone is intelligent in the concept of retaining information, which is all schools seem to measure. It can not be defined by grades at school or an ACT score. Intelligence is within everyone. It is the growth of strengths and weaknesses within a person. As a student in the school, I have seen first-hand that many people never get the chance to prove their area of intelligence. The school systems should work towards understanding that there are different types of intelligence, and not measure students’ success on how they score on standardized tests.

Friend Categories

Not every friend is the same. I think everyone can agree with that. There are some friends that you will share your life story with, but there are some friends that you seem to keep distant.

One type of friend is the company friend. This is the one you walk around school with just to keep you company. You would prefer to walk with someone down the hall instead of being alone, so you choose someone to walk with. I have one of these friends. I wait for them before I go to lunch and we sit next to each other in the hallway afterward. This person, however, I don’t share secrets with. I don’t know this person well enough to share personal information with. Sometimes we make small talk, but most of the time we walk of sit in silence.

Another type is the friend of a friend. This is the person you would never hang out with alone but are always nice to. They are closer to an acquaintance than a friend actually. You are usually nice to this person but only talk when you all are hanging out together. You might be friends with them on a social media, but you rarely talk. This person probably is someone you never call or text; however, when you are hanging out in a group, you laugh and talk like you have known each other forever.

An old friend is pretty self explanatory. This is someone that has been in your life as long as you can remember. It could be a neighbor kid, someone you met in elementary, or even someone that you have known since you were born. There is always a deep connection between these people and are usually the friends held closest to your heart. My old friend I have known since kindergarten. We used to have play dates and go running through the mud together. We lost touch for a while when I switched schools, but when we got in touch again, it was like we had never been separated. We don’t hang out as much as we used to, though. On the other hand, whenever one of us needs a friend to vent to, we are always there for each other.

The last is your closest friend. It is the one you share all your secrets with and would trust with your life. I only have two of these friends. I tell them everything. They have seen me at my best and at my worst. I will scream, cry and vent with them. I will stay up all night laying on the couch and just talking with them and we never run out of things to talk about. We are super random and silly and laugh a lot when we are with each other. We share everything as if we were sisters and are completely honest with each other.

No matter what kinds of friends you have, you only need a few. It is better to have a small amount of friends that you are really close with than a lot of friends that aren’t very good ones.

Live Life Freely

     Ever since I was little, I was told what to do. When I was little, I was told what to wear and what to eat. Now that I am 16, I have a little more freedom but not much. Why do people try to control other peoples' lives?
     I'm in National Honors Society. Yes, I understand that it is a privilege to be in NHS, but it's not for me. I walked up to the teacher in charge of NHS and tried to explain this to her. I told her that I do not agree with the fact that community service has to be signed by the person you are doing it for or by the person who arranged it. I don't know about other people in this world but I believe community service should be from the kindness of your heart and not hoping to be recognized for it. I also don't think it is right to have to tell someone it is for a class. It takes out the whole point of the community service away. I believe that community service should never be assigned as a chore. It should come from the goodness of your heart and should not be used for a grade or to be kept in a stupid honors society. Even if I were to ignore this fact and continue with NHS, I do not have the time to go out of my way to find an organization to do community service through and have them sign a stupid paper. That is six hours of community service where it is not done out of the kindness of my heart but instead out of the happiness of my self greed. When I would have time for this, I don't have a ride and instead am sitting home alone. My teacher responded by saying this wasn't excepting my "excuse" and that I wasn't able to get out of national honors society. We will see what happens when it comes march (the due date for the community service hours) and I don't turn one in!
     I know this was a short post but I had to share my opinion with the world. NHS is awesome and a great program. I am not saying if you are in it then you should get out of it. It looks amazing on a college application! But, I have put a lot of thought into it and it isn't for me. I do not agree with the set up; therefore, I don't want to be in it. I also dislike how my teacher said I couldn't get out of it. Obviously I can and it is my choice. I am not going to let some teacher tell me what I can and can not do. The college I choose will know I have the opportunity to be in NHS and I will make my point to the college that I do not agree with the set up of NHS and that is why I chose not to do it.

Divorce: A Child's Perspective

     Divorce is never easy. It requires courts, forms, signatures, a division of property, and, most of all, time. It can cause a lot of stress and tears of sadness as well as anger. After all that is said and done, and the divorce is finalized, the divorced couple still have to communicate if children are involved. But, imagine this from the child's perspective.
     What I would give to go back four years ago. Back when we all lived together and were actually happy. Sure, the last couple years were rough, but it isn't always going to be rainbows and butterflies. Me and my sisters knew there was a divorce waiting to happen in the future, the near future. The thing that shocked us was what led up to it and how it ended.
    At age 12, you feel on top of the world. My father was a stay at home dad while my mother worked all the time. I would come home from school and go play football in the yard with my dad or watch it on the television. If something was wrong, he would cheer me up. He would lay on the couch with me, listening to my petty problems and cheering me up. My mom did things to help too, but I was always a "daddy's girl." Everything was perfect; I lived the fairy-tale life. Two years before the divorce hit, though, it was like the beautiful snow-capped mountain turned into a raging avalanche.
     Name-calling, back-stabbing, and screaming overwhelmed the home with the three children trapped in the middle. It was like tidal waves pushing us from side to side, forced to listen to the hissing words coming from the parent's mouth's. Caught in the middle, we were left to pick sides. My sisters mostly just nodded and zoned out as they talked; however, I, being the youngest and most influenced, listened intently. They sounded like kindergartners bashing each other on the play ground.
     "Well, he said this!"
      "I told her this but she wouldn't listen!"
     It was a never ending downward spiral to the gates of hell. I would lay in bed, crying myself to sleep at night. I had, like every child victim to divorce, thought it was my fault at one point. I dreaded the thought of leaving my room in the morning. The tension was as thick as a brick. It was like you could smell their anger from down the hall. I tip-toed out of my bed in the morning and rushed to get ready for school. I was out the door as quick as possible and would stay out of the house as much as possible. The word home had lost its meaning. It was no longer a loving shelter but instead a homeless shelter, where everyone sleeps in fear.
     A couple days before Christmas the house was dead silent; You would have been able to hear a pin drop. My sisters and I entered the living room where we found our parents sitting in silence. They said they had something to tell us so we all sat down in a row on the couch. We all knew it was coming.
     "We are getting a divorce. It has nothing to do with you girls; we have done a lot of thinking, and we decided it's for the best."
     No one said a word. In all honesty, we had seen it coming for about two years at this point. Then the real shock came.
     "I am moving to Guam, though. I have a buddy who can get me a job there."
     The word "Guam" echoed through the house. I could feel the tears gathering in my eyes, yet I tried to hold them back. My sister to my right began to whimper, and the sister to my left began bawling. A tear was released to stream down my cheek; I lost control. Tears began racing down my cheeks. I tried to maintain my mature look, but it was no use. I ran to my dad and hugged him tightly, telling him he couldn't leave. I needed him too much. He told me he was leaving New Years Eve and I began crying even harder (To this day, I have never cried as hard as I did in this moment).
     That night, I could hear him crying in his room. That was the first time I had ever heard my dad cry. He was miserable and knew he had no other choice but to go to Guam. He didn't want to leave us behind, but he didn't have a choice.
     Every day, since the day he left, he has been trying to get back to the states to finally live with his daughters again. The oldest, however, is already in college and the next is a senior in high school. Now, he finally thinks he is able to move back. Why? To get admitted into the Los Angeles hospital to get work done on his neck. He got nerve damage into his neck. He tries to get back once every summer to see my sisters and me, but last year he was unsuccessful. He had no money to get back here because he was spending it all on medical bills seeing as he got cancer for the second time in his life as well as having a collapsed lung. Words can not explain how much I miss him and how much I wish I could just be there to help him. I still cry at night because I miss him so much.
     The first three years after he left, I contemplated suicide. I cried myself to sleep every night thinking I was incapable of living without him. I felt no reason to live. I never got to the intensity where I cut myself or attempted suicide, but the thoughts engulfed me daily. They never left me alone. My self esteem dropped and my grades slipped slightly. I hid my face and developed a stutter. Public speaking became a chore as well. Nothing was easy; everything was as challenging as climbing a cliff.
     Looking back, I would rather be back in the house with the arguing. I don't Skype my dad often because it makes me miss him more. My mom and him still fight only ten times worse. They argue over email, making a scene every time my sisters and I want to see my dad.
     I feel like a hostage that has a large value connected to it. And I do. Its called child support. So next time a parent out there feels they have it hard during a divorce, look at your child. They probably have it worse. They just hide it from you because it doesn't seem like it would matter to you. You have your own problems; why should you have to deal with your children's too?

Deep into the woods

    Leaves crunch beneath my feet as I stroll through my backyard. As I do so, the wind pushes my hair around like a tumbleweed. The thick woods looking back at me fill me with excitement. I pick up my pace. My steps quickly turn into leaps as I bound toward the bridge that connects my yard to the woods. Once I make it onto the bridge I can see the fish swimming happily in the creek below. A smile creeps onto my face because I know that every day the woods hold a new story, with the weather setting the mood.

    On spring mornings, the woods can be seen in a dense fog. The fog covers the woods like a thick blanket. When I reach my hand out, it disappears before my eyes. The trees become more engulfed in the the heavy mist the deeper into the woods I look. The steady motion of the creek echos in my ears as I stand on top of the old wooden bridge. I feel safe; however, I know the bridge is sinking down slowly as it deteriorates beneath my feet. The bridge lightly shakes with every ripple that taps its legs. Leaning against the loose railing, I catch a glimpse of graceful deer scampering over the hill.  Twigs snap under their quick feet. The overgrown blades of grass have turned toward the ground, heavy with dew. I listen to the soft chirps from crickets dwelling underneath them. Above my head, the morning birds sing sweet songs that ring throughout the woods.

     Foggy mornings leave a calm feeling over the woods; unfortunately, spring doesn’t always mean fog. A loud boom shakes the trees. Lightning brightens up the grim sky, dancing over the tree tops. Bright green leaves reach for the passing wind. The creek roars, licking the underside of the bridge. Small spouts of water get trapped between the jagged boards and shoot up, splashing my rainboots. A large bang. I grip the wobbly railing and watch as branches and twigs build up against the edge of the bridge. A loud crackle comes from the tree to my right. A flash brightens up the woods as the tree begins to fall. The ground quakes and I can smell burnt bark. A cloud of debris coats the nature around me. Smog blocks my view from all angles. There is no longer the song of birds, just the rumble of the wilderness.

    During the winter, the rain fades into the background, and snow moves to the foreground. The bone-chilling wind presses against my skin; my purple knuckles begin to swell the longer I stand in the coldness. I listen intently, all there is is silence. The birds flutter away for the winter, leaving nothing but vacant tree branches. Colorful leaves are now replaced with cotton ball fluff, and layers of untouched snow on the ground like whipped frosting. Small deer tracks create patterns across the top of slick ice, sprinkled with snow. The faint sound of wind whistles through the pine trees. I push snow through the cracks of the bridge with the toe of my boot and breathe in the brisk air.

    Hot days during the summer are not as peaceful as freshly laid snow. Steam radiates off the dry creek bed after a refreshing rain. The steady moving creek is dried up to small motionless puddles. The birds bathe in the puddles and squawk in anger at the lack of fish. I look up to the leaves hang heavily off the dehydrated branches. With beads of sweat dripping off the tip of my nose, the thought of the deer in the yard plays through my mind. Behind me about 20 feet, they munch in despair on the shriveled, yellow grass. The heat is overwhelming, so the deer hide under the small section of shade covering the yard. One of the deer stands on its shaking hind legs and reaches up to bite off the drooping leaves. Another one licks at the moist sand, where the stream used to flow. They move slowly into the woods in a march of despair.

When I walk into the woods and pause on the bridge, I look at the world around me. A world that changes with the wind, rain, sun, fog and sometimes brilliant white snow. It’s the weather, but it’s much more. It bleeds into my emotions as everything  transforms, from the deepest roots of the trees, to the highest flying birds. Changes that can mean life or death, struggle or pleasure. A world that never fails to draw me in.

Terrifying Trash Can Lid

It was the first day back to kindergarten after Christmas break. Most people hate school, but I didn’t. Me, being the morning person I am, already had a huge smile on my face, excited to start the day! Nothing could hold me back, except for the unfortunate placement of a garbage can lid on a school playground. I should have known better to watch my step.

It was 7:15 a.m. in the small town of Hicken. I was getting ready for school as chipper as usual; getting ready as quickly as possible was my main concern every morning. (Being only five years old, it took me about two minutes to throw on some overalls, a t-shirt and my tennis shoes.) I got my clothes on, ate and brushed my teeth. I then slipped on my shoes and waited patiently. I was always ready before everyone else, so I would spend most of my morning sitting at the dining room table, swinging my legs back and forth enthusiastically, waiting for the rest of the gang to be finished getting their stuff together.

By 7:50 everyone was finally ready. We all wiggled into the van, buckled, and headed down the road about a quarter mile. A grin shone on my face. Before my eyes was the little, two room school house that I was lucky enough to spend my day in.

“Everyone pile out!” My dad groaned, still not quite awake.

“Yay!” I screamed over everyone’s moans and yawns. I squirmed into my big snow pants and snow boots and jumped into the pile of snow, outside the car door, that had been produced by the snowplow. I trudged happily through the snow; to tell you the truth, I didn’t even like snow that much I was just happy to be back at the old brick school. Time stood still. I couldn’t have been more excited as I stepped through the gate surrounding the school property. The hinges of the gate let out a small squeak as a shoved it open. My excitement was becoming hard to contain; as I have said before, I wanted nothing more than to be back in my classroom. I let out a screech of enthusiasm and went racing towards the the school door. Sadly, I only got about 15 feet before I lost my footing. The snow and ice covered a slick garbage can lid that laid on the ground. I had stepped directly on it. I teetered for a minute, stumbling to catch my balance, and then face planted. The cold wet snow embraced my face and made me shiver.

I quickly stood up and kept walking, pretending nothing had happened. When I saw my sisters’ faces, however, I knew they had both seen. The two of them looked at one another and released a wild burst of laughter. My could feel my face begin to heat up, and my vision begin to blur. I tried to hold it in, but I knew my efforts were worthless. My bottom lip quivered uncontrollably as tears streamed down my face. I turned around to run back to my dad for comfort. I knew he had witnessed the whole thing and would defend me against my sisters’ cruel laughter.

Unfortunately, I was all worked up and not paying attention to where I was going. I walked right back into the same trash can trap. Once again, I slipped on the little devil and landed right back on my butt on the cold hard ground.

“Sydney, stop trying to run away from your problems. Just come on! We have school,” my sister said trying to hold back her laughter. My other sister, on the other hand, was on the ground she was laughing so hard.

By now, all I wanted to do was go back home. My hip was throbbing from fall number one and my ankle and knee hurt from fall number two. I wanted to go lay in my bed and cry off my embarrassment, but I knew if I gave up now my sisters would never let me hear the end of it. I stood up once again, sucked back my tears and puffed out my chest. I brushed off my knees for one more dramatic effect and took a step in the direction of my school. Third times a charm I thought. I was wrong.

My feet came out from underneath me, and this time I could hear my dad laughing back in the car. My sister, who had been laughing so hard I’m surprised she didn’t wet herself, finally came to my rescue. She grabbed my arm and dragged me up the steps to the wooden school door. She was holding back her laughter, trying to be mature, but she still had a huge smile planted on her face.

When we reached the door, everyone could tell I had been crying.

“What’s wrong?” One boy asked.

“What happened?” Asked another. I buried my face into my coat at the sounds of my sisters’ words.

“The trash can lid.”

When something happens to you three times in a row, most people catch on that they are doing something wrong. For me, the problem was not watching where I stepped. I allowed myself to trip over the trash can lid. Three times in a row. If I had watched where I stepped I would have been able to save myself from total and utter humiliation.