Through the Trails

Several weeks ago, my cousin had invited my brother and I, along with our other cousins and some of his friends, to celebrate his birthday over at a lake park on the other side of town. With that weekend being the calm before the storm-- finals week-- I had been reluctant to attend, nether the less join everyone as they went off to play at a nearby basketball court.

Besides our party group, there were several other families, along with young children, in the area, with kids clamoring all over the playground equipment and adults mumbling away in the bushes. As I tried to recreate a diagram of photosynthesis and cellular respiration in my head, I would be interrupted by shrill screams.

When everyone insisted on going hiking through one of the trails, however, I made the decision to join them. I had already been stuck there for two hours attempting to study-- how could it hurt to walk for a while?

We followed the trail which lead to the parking lot of a nearby university. The landscape of the lake park was quite nice, with the water sitting every so still like a mirror. Birds squabbled around the area. The temperature was cool, with the terrain deep. Finally, I had found what I had been looking for: peace.

The Package From 3,000 Miles Away

Today I have something extremely exciting to share with you all! The amazing and sweet Adelaide from Down by the Willows hosted a giveaway, and somehow, I was drawn as the winner! On June 8th, after two weeks worth of waiting and agonizing, the giveaway package had arrived in the mail!

I was literally in shock. I couldn't find the package opener, so I had to wait until my mom got home from work. My brother and I stared sat at the dinner table across from each other, with the package sitting in the middle.

Our initial reactions to the box were completely different. I was squealing like a fangirl. Snail mail has always been something that I've never received before but adored. Who doesn't love receiving handwritten mail? My brother, on the other hand, kept asking my brother why it was sent to me in the first place and who Addy was.

When I opened it, I was welcomed with a ton of green and red paper confetti spilling from the box.

The first thing that I drew out was a small package of six plain pencils, and as you can see, engraved near the eraser tip are traits, starting with "be." "Be kind" and "Be smart" are the first two that come to my head as I think of them.

Next, I took out a huge pack of Twizzlers, which is amazing! There's been this huge childhood idea that I am still willing to try, inspired by a movie called Bandslam: I want to try to drink Coke from a can using Twizzlers as straws! I haven't tested the idea out since the I've only gotten the fun sized Halloween versions, but you never know what will happen until you try, right?

 If you can't read it, it says, "This one was breakable. I hope it survived. ♥ Addy"

This cute heart container inside the Ziplock baggie contained Essie nail polish! I'm not the type to wear make up, but I will definitely be wearing this when I embark on the first day of school in the fall, let me tell you that.

Some confetti got into the container.

I've been loving EOS products lately (aren't they adorable?) and so when I drew out this hand lotion, I was squealing, "Score!"

Within all of the package's goodie context, I did not notice a note until much later.

The final thing that I was really looking forward to was a handwritten poem, and can I just say that Adelaide's penmanship is the best? Look how beautiful it is, darlings. My handwriting doesn't match up with the elegance and quality of her's.

That's it for Adelaide's giveaway package haul! Perhaps, once I've grown a bit older and save up some money, I might host my own giveaway!

Life Stories


Looking back, I wasn't sure why I wanted the period to be over, but I did. My rather weird language arts teacher for the year kept raving onto the seniors of the daily news of the class.

"Beth is doing something, and so is Ben, and oh, look, everyone! Morning's looking at the clock." I turn away, embarrassed that I would be called out for doing such a thing.


"Why are you wearing a superhero shirt?" The King of The Three Musketeers asked, eyeing me curiously.

"Me?" I lookeed down at my outfit: black boots, jeans, and a navy blue t-shirt depicting the major characters of Justice League which was a bit too big on me. "Oh, right. It was Super Hero day at school. I didn't really have anything to wear... So I had to borrow my brother's shirt," I muttered the last bit to myself.

"I'm not into superheroes or anything. I'm actually quite mature for my age," our lead stated as to me and another cast member, the King, he climbed off from the heat ventilators. It was one of our first rehearsals. My parents had other places to be, so they dropped me off thirty minutes early leaving me with a bunch of boys in the cast. Except for them and the director, no one else was present.

It's extremely important to get along with all of your cast, to the best of your ability. The production goes on for about two months, and it would either be two months of ease or drama caused friction. I give a small grin, "Yeah, okay."

The two other boys present, Athos and Rochefort, stood over, gazing at the golden flag pole of the elementary school's cafeteria canteen. D'artagnan, the King, and I made our way over. I'm felt pretty confident about getting along with them at this point; we were a more older cast. Getting along would be cake. 

"What are you doing?"

Athos stared at me. "Don't talk; we must all communicate in the ways of interpretive dancing." My brain goes off with a click of disbelief, but I do not argue. Immediately the five of us begin to act like noodles being twirled onto chopsticks and contorting our bodies with the weirdest angles possible until the girl playing the Bartender showed up, appearing scared and a bit amused as to what we're doing.


My friend Brynn was arguing ferociously with a junior as I passed by the set of ROTC lockers near my first period class. "Well, I'll let you know that this is my body guard," she sneers at the junior. She pulls me towards her locker and right to face the junior.

"Um, Brynn? I don't know what you're... I'm barely five foot... I don't know what to--"

"Oh yeah? Well, this is my body guard!" The junior pulls her friend to face me, a six foot tall guy wearing a light blue shirt. I look up at him, he looks down at me.

"Um," I say, after several seconds of passing confusion, "Hi."

A moment of awkward silence. "Hi."


In biology, everyone was told to take observations on the recent yeast bottle lab experiment that had unfolded several days back. My partner was absent (again), so I sat, prying to open up the container lids.

"Okay, the five sense." My notes were lined up in a messy fashion. I frivolously wrote down my observations. "Bottle number one opens up with a medium volume hiss lasting about four second. There is a rough light brown texture sticking to the bottom while the rest is all liquid in a darker shade.

"Smell... Hmm... It smells like," I exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly, "sugar farts!" Satisfied, I happily jotted that down onto my notes.

My biology teacher gave me an incredulous look. "Sugar farts? Sugar farts? Do you know how ridiculous you sound? It's like that time when you thought a Labrador dog looked like a unicorn." I look away sheepishly. My red-headed friend who sat behind me, started to laugh extremely loud.


The Purple Crayon**,  a Monologue

Me: "I... I broke your purple crayon! I'm sorry!"
Friend: *gasps* "Not the purple crayon!"
Me: "I said I'm sorry!"
Friend: "You could have broken the green crayon, or the blue crayon, but no, it had to be the purple one!"
Me: "Why?"
Me: ...

**That day, the two of us were acting very mature as we colored for a Greek urn project. Note the sarcasm there.


The first day of finals came about. I approached the library with a small folder in one hand and a quarter grasped onto another. The printer at my house was running low on ink once again.

My job was simple: I go into the library quietly, print out what I needed, pay the fee, then walk out. Like all "simple" plans, they have a tendency to backfire.

"This door won't open!" I knocked on the glass door and peered into the room. AP testing was going to begin in less then twenty minutes, but I had to appear in my first hour for my Algebra II final. 

The librarian called out to me, "Turn and push the door!" At least, that's what I thought I heard


"Turn and push the door!"

"I am!" Both of my hands are on the door handle at this point, struggling to push the door open. A fit of cough erupted. I took out a cough drop  from a small bag that I carried. I was feeling sore, tired, and grouchy from my cold. Why would a door have handles if all one needed to do was push it open! "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's locked!"

"No it's not. Turn and pull the door!"

I must have misheard her wrong the first several times, because after doing as she said, the door clicked open. My feet barged myself into the room. Except for one other person, a girl from my book competition team, the library was silent. "I feel really dumb," I told the librarian.

"Did you even read the handles? It said, 'Pull'!"

"... Umm.... No."


"That is such a cute little bird!" I said to myself. The summer season was always a great time of gardening and for wildlife to take a brief moment of refuge in the backyard. The bird faces outwards to our yard with his end sticking in. 

"Wait a minute." I grabbed my camera and zoomed up onto the creature. "Is the bird pooping into our yard?"


By the time you will have read this, I will be gone over the next several weeks to go onto vacation at the other side of the planet. If you have been reading for quite some time now and know where I am from, you may now what my ethnicity is which may help you a bit. I've prepared myself for this trip to such an extend that when I come back, I will have amazing things to blog about.

Not to worry, though! I've planned several posts which will pop up over the course of the time, including two guest posts by the two who will moderate my blog when I am gone. Be nice to the two of them; after all, they will be watching over for a month!

My wifi at the place I am staying at is very much iffy, and at most, I will only be able to connect to the actual internet for about an hour-- which then I will be replying to small emails and keeping in touch with some people in the town that I live in. That means I won't be able to reply to comments.

In exchange for giving that up, I have set up an Instagram account which will hold recordings of what I am doing-- a little photo blog, if you will. It's located on the sidebar. No, it isn't my personal Instagram, but it's close enough for you to see what I am up to while I can't post much. 

I'll be back around July 14th, up and running but exhausted from the flight. I will most definitely be glad to see you all (if you all work together and do some kind of surprise post party thingy for me when I'm home, I will faint of a heart attack) when I get back. Bye for now!

Go Out and Do Something

Life has a way of smacking its lessons right on your face.

Recently I received a text from one of my friends from an old production saying that she got a lead part. I was super ecstatic for her of course, because she has been vying for a lead for quite some time now, but simultaneously I've been feeling kind of left behind. Except for probably two others, everyone from this old production already received a major speaking role, if not a lead.

There's probably tons of factors to why I haven't yet landed a major role. I'm short, I haven't gotten much experience with the company, people don't know me well... It doesn't matter. I'm not ungrateful for the roles I have gotten, even if they are small, because I've learned so much and the directors who have chosen me made me feel like I can do something, to take on a newcomer.

It would be a nice change to land a lead. There are two instances where I did land a major part, but my parents said I had to drop out of the production both times because of vacation issues, making me wonder everyday, "What could have been?"

For the time being, I'm practicing. I've been going to musical theatre classes on the weekends and when there is nothing left to do in my house, I search up monologues and recite them. I listen to all kinds of music and sing. I even lay on my back singing through the scales "goo goo, ga ga" and make facial expressions in the mirror.

It doesn't seem like I'm doing much now, but it is better then sitting around and doing nothing.

Let me turn the tables and talk about you, because I know you may be experiencing the same thing, too. There is probably something that makes you feel behind everyone else. You can take blogging as an example. There's a new blogger who already has more followers in two months then you've got all together in half a year and a much better camera than you. This new blogger blogs about the same range of topics that you do. You're sitting, dumbfounded, thinking, "Huh? I've been putting in my everything but it hasn't been leading me anywhere."

Look, there is always going to be someone that seems like they are much ahead of you. Don't let envy and anger work against you to make you drown. Instead of giving up and thinking, "I won't ever be as good as them," practice and try your best. Work until your idols become your rivals, in a sense.

Wondering how to take better photographs for post? Search up how to take better photographs. Scraping the bottom as to what to post? Use the world around you-- or Pinterest, if you can't get out of the house. But don't obsess over your follower numbers, because it will affect you negatively. The point is, try your best and do what you can now because later, if you wait patiently enough, it will pay off, like the band class.

In middle school, orchestra (my class) was allowed to put our instruments away two minutes before the bell everyday, whereas band had to play through the bell. Two minutes is a small amount of time, but over the course of the year, band's performances actually sounded more organized, and all because they put in two minutes more of rehearsal time.

Want to do something and actually make a change of what's going on in your life right now? Do something. Because if you don't do it now, you may, in the future, be wondering what could have happened.

10:23 AM

10:23 AM. The clock's monotonous ticking draws up into reality. My eyes flutter several times to acknowledge my surroundings. The sheets are warm. Morning dust covers my eyes. I am too comfortable to be stirred out of bed and acknowledge the minimalistic to-do schedule waiting for me upstairs. No; today is one of those days to view the world, in all five senses.

The soft pattering of the rain on my window is calming.  I slowly rise up to draw away curtains which obstruct the window view. Raindrops on windows are beautiful to watch. They would first land onto the surface as individuals. Slowly, as more droplets land and merge together, a thin layer of water would inverted reveal itself. This is the view I see.

I lay back onto my bed and draw the blankets closer. Passing cars which rush to work greet me with a whoosh of water spraying onto sides of the street. The intensity of the rain mirrors a ballet dancer: delicate, yet powerful.

Thoughts of this summer replicating the summer of '10 or '11 --  one of the rainiest summers in the state -- enter in an unwelcome fashion. The idea, I presume, must come from there being one sun break in the weather, when my cousins and I visited a playground fresh from a drizzle.

I imagine New York City and their rain: millions of people rush to snag a taxi while shielding their morning coffee to the best of their abilities. In the midst of all of the orderly chaos would be a person with a yellow umbrella, standing out from the network of rainy shields.

And the thought, of there being a bright sun in all of the down pour, makes me smile.

The Thought of My Thoughts

Every night, after I have completed my fair share of reading or writing, I turn off the lamp right next to my bed, stare up at the ceiling, and think. 

Everyone has those places and moments where all of their thinking occurs: in the bathroom, at a coffee shop, inside the library wedged between two bookshelves so that no one can disturb you-- there is always that place, a place, to think. My place is my bedroom, looking up towards the ceiling, with the city lights seeping in through closed blindfolds as I hear the "tick, tock" of my clock going monotonously back and forth.

Sometimes, I have no idea if I am a morning person or an night owl. When I get up, I'm extremely ready for the day to unfold, but at night, my mind never ceases to end its bumbling chatter. Even after reading or writing, my mind will not rest until I lull myself to sleep or feel satisfied with what is on my mind.

Perhaps its the calmness and tranquility of the night that causes my mind to begin to "talk." I'm not the most talkative person out there on the planet, but if you speak about something that I love and believe in, you better get some duct tape because I will not stop rambling for hours on end. It's the same thing with my mind, I suppose.

I'm weird, and most people know that, and they ask themselves, "What goes on inside my head?" Well, that I'll gladly say.

At night, I think about the past-- what has happened today. I think about all of the good and bad things I have done in my life. I think about my friends and what has come and go of them, I think about the two ladies who said, "Excuse me," inside the store as the cart I was guarding carefully for my parents obstructed their way.

I think about the future. Where will I go? What will I be? Who will I become? What will come of tomorrow? Who, what, when, where, or why, this one especially, the five W's will come into my mind. I think of things that I may use in the future or things that have helped shaped this future. Several nights ago, I was asking myself, "How does a hinge work?"

Come on. Who has asked and wondered how a hinge works? We take so much of the technology we have around us and we never really bother to ask how. But sometimes, I do. The world out there is a beautiful and mysterious place. We all ought to look around and ask questions.

I think and imagine. Most of my ideas, especially my novel plots, come from when I lay in bed, and I sit and imagine what would happen to think character if I did this or what if I introduced this person to the plot. I don't just imagine scenarios in my novels, but also I think of, "What if?" What if, in the past, this played out differently? What if I slept more? What if I grew taller? What if, what if, what if? 

The questions never seem to stop, but ultimately, these things I think of all boil down and encompass the big two questions of, "Who am I?" and "What is the meaning of life?" At this point, you may be thinking that I'm too young to be thinking of this sort of thing. 

You may be right, of course, but it is never too early to start. It's never too early to think of who you will be and how you will help make a difference in this world. I think, I question, I imagine, all because I don't want to just exist. I want to run barefooted in the grass, I want to have the spirit of a child, I want to go out there to meet the world. I want to live.

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” ― Oscar Wilde

I know it sounds cliched. It kind of does, doesn't it? "Go out and live!" "Go and make a difference in the world!" These are such mantras that if you, like me, have ever gone to school, you have most likely heard of. The world isn't this place with gum drops and unicorns and butterflies; that's always how I have lived my life. I'm a girl who lives in this fantasy land who believes that wrongs can easily be righted and that happily ever after comes to all.

But that's not how the world works, does it? There's crime and there are couples who get divorced, and I'm just touching on the surface of some of the problems of the world. Yet, despite all of this, I'm still going to be positive. There is always hope for a better tomorrow, and somehow, I am going to be a part of it.

And with these thoughts, signing off at 9:45 PM in the evening, I can now go to bed, content, dreaming of whatever may come to me tomorrow.