Holidays

These holidays have not been the best holidays, but they are looking up.  

Christmas eve and Christmas were lovely, and the weekend before I hung out with my friends, including a friend who just moved to Scotland, and one who just moved to Canton, 40 minutes away.  I got some great presents, and it was just a really fun time in general.

On Christmas, I woke up with a cough, and a sore throat.  I really thought nothing of it and went on my way.  I saw Les Miserables (it was great and very emotional, I cried about 5 times) with my mom and sister since my dad was working, then we opened presents and ate a delicious meal.  I read a great book throughout the day, Every Day by David Levithan.  I finished it, and went to bed. 

The next day, I had driving school.  The night of Christmas, my nose was completely clogged and I had a very hard time getting to sleep, tossing and turning and such.  But I woke up bright and early and went.  As expected, it was unbelievably boring, and to make matter worse I had to keep getting up to get tissues.  By the end of the class I was tired, freezing, shaking, and close to tears.  I got in the car and pretty much just broke down.

I went home and took a bath, but the water was too cold.  I got into bed and sure enough, I had a fever.  I spent the rest of the day under the covers.  I cancelled the birthday party I was going to have the next day, told the driving class, and my mom told me she'd take me in the next morning at 7:30 to see if I had the flu.

I woke up at 4:30 the next day, my birthday, with a headache behind my eyes.  I drank some water and went back to sleep.  I woke up again at 8, confused about why I slept late, and feeling nauseous.  So I got up and made my way over to the door.

And I fainted dead away.

So I ended up spending the first half of my birthday in the hospital, getting 3 liters of fluid pumped into me through an IV, and dozing in the bed.  So I got my first ambulance ride and hospital room for my 16th birthday.  What else could a girl want?

The ran the tests, and I had the flu, and they finally let me go home.  The only highlight of the day was watching Monster's Inc. with my dad at the end.  And getting some books (Why we Broke Up and The Great Gatsby) and a dress , both of which I've wanted for a while.

So my holiday plans were ruined.  Gone was getting driving school over with and going to the mall and spending time with my friends.  In came watching 11 episodes of The Walking Dead in one day, and watching the 1st season of Downton Abbey.  

I'm pretty much better now, and I can finally go out tomorrow again I think.  So my holiday isn't completely done for.  I still have a New Year's Eve party I am going to, and I only postponed my party till the 4th.  So it isn't the end of the world.  And we finally got our first real snow of the season. And it's truly beautiful.  It's just the flu had very bad timing.

Apocalypse No

So the world didn't end up apocalypsing (well that's not English..).  What a surprise!
This person I know on Facebook posted this:. "Maybe this is what the Mayans predicted. Not an asteroid, or a solar flare, but the end of what we are. We no longer cherish life, or other people, even the earth or the animals and the resources put on it. War, genocide, abuse, senseless mass murder, animal cruelty, gluttony, greed, waste and lust... Look around you, the end of the world is already here."
At first it made a lot of sense to me.  But then I realized something.  The world had already been like this for the entirety of the modern human race.  See, back when the Mayans were alive, genocides happened everywhere (there own massacre for example), slavery, human sacrifices were rampant,etc.  The only difference between then and now is we are aware of it.  Well and the whole lustiness thing.  But hey, people married earlier back then.  We have even eliminated some of the evil, although some has been added.
We are mostly aware of the evil we do, and recognize it as such.  And we do it anyways, because we cannot help ourselves.  It's the reason Utopian communities always failed.  People always say society is evil, and messed up, and they forget that they themselves make up society, and they alone can change it.  I am not saying that people are inherently evil, I am saying that people are just far from perfect.
I feel as if the world is such a mixture of good and bad things.  Like, for example, the Newtown shooting.  That day, my sister came home, and I remember saying to myself at the beginning of the day that nothing could make the day bad.  So naturally the world proved me wrong.  These shootings, I find them hard to actually process and think about.  My brain blocks them out automatically, the whole "ignorance is bliss" idea  kind of rings true.  Whenever my mom watches the news and something about it comes on, I have to walk out of the room.  There is this quote "If you aren't angry, you aren't paying attention."  I really don't like it.  Because there is no point being angry all the time, at things you cannot control.
I always feel bad when I'm feeling bad.  Wait, that doesn't make sense.  Redo.
Whenever I feel bad about myself, about a situation I am in, or I'm just feeling down that day, I start to feel worse because my problems are all so tiny and stupid.  They are all about guys not noticing me and friends not inviting me places.  Because I could live in Newtown, I could be starving or friendless.  I have a roof over my head, straight As, loving family and friends, and food in the fridge.  So my life is pretty good, but I always want more.
I think it might be a human thing.  Our own fatal flaw as a species.  No matter how much you have, you always want more, and everyone is a bit selfish.  I feel guilty for it, and I shouldn't, but I do.
Gosh this whole post doesn't even make any sense.  Maybe its because I'm exhausted.  This is the good and bad things.  I'm exhausted and stressed, but it is finally vacation.  My friend living in Scotland is coming back tomorrow, and a friend who lives 40 minutes away is also visiting, and it's almost Christmas and my birthday.  I can finally sleep late multiple days for the first time in months.   With all the bad things, the good shines through.

Unsung hero

Today I had my soccer banquet (I guess yesterday but same thing), and I got the "unsung hero" award for my jv team. My dad pointed out the contradiction of me being recognized for being unrecognized. I love that. The banquet itself was about the same as last year's, except my dad didn't come and end up yelling at the coach this year (thank goodness).

Also, yesterday, I finally got a sort of large part in this singing thing I do. It isn't a principal lead, but just one step down, and it is a good fit for me with the work I have to do this year. It's the first time I got one, after doing it for about 8 years. I always managed to make up an excuse for not auditioning for a large part, except once, and even then I was unprepared and forgot the lyrics, and that was that.
I always ended up regretting my decision to not try afterwards. I kicked myself for not aiming higher, then did the same thing the next year. I didn't want to over-schedule myself, but I will never know if it would have been too much to handle, or if I missed out on something great. Sometimes I annoy even myself.
I have a chem quiz and an AP US History test tomorrow, so I should probably get to bed.

White squares

I went to the mall today with my friends. Me and one of my friends were walking ahead and I looked down at the familiar tiled floor, that familiar pattern of mostly blue with white squares making lines and patterns, and I remembered something:
"You know, when I was little, I used to try to only walk on the white squares."

We looked at each other, laughed, and then each set off, running on those white squares, trying to beat each other to an undetermined location, and trying not to crash into people. We giggled and ran through the mall, not caring how we looked, two teens running around like little children, not caring that someone we knew could see us. We jumped down steps and cut in front of each other, and she cheated a bit, then we sat down on a bench after we had got too far ahead of our other friends, to wait for them.

She was out of breath, and I not as much, but that's just because I do track. She laughed and said to me "I'm so out of breath. Never mention this to anyone again."
I asked her if she meant the running on those white tiles, or the whole tired after 30 seconds of running thing.
And she said how she was out of breath, and that made me very, very happy. Because I don't want to forget that feeling of flying through the mall with one of my best friends, that revival of my childhood.
Honestly, sometimes I feel like a little girl stuck into an adolescent's body, and I want to escape the whole being grown up façade that so many people put up. And it that moment, I felt it shatter, in a feeling of childish reckless abandon. My joyful little girl that likes to skip the first and last step of the staircase, who made up elaborate stories with her friends and beanie babies, the one who ran around the playground screaming and laughing, was back. And everyone needs to show that sometimes. I thank the white squares for those moments of being carefree.

Laughter

I'm talking about laughter. Not the polite giggle, or that sarcastic HAHA you emit when someone is teasing you. Not that little amused laugh when you hear a witty joke that you like a lot.

I'm talking about the rolling on the floor kind. The tears streaming down your face, bending over trying to relieve the pain in your abs that comes with it. It is one of the only types of pleasurable pain. I'm talking about the joke that keeps on going, people trying to add to the monstrosity through gasps of air, making the laughter erupt all over again. You are smiling and crying and aching and filled with love for this person, or these people, that can make you this way, this state of perfect happiness. Nothing else really matters except the moment, because there isn't really anything that can compete.

That laughter that makes you feel alive and loved and invincible, but fragile at the exact same time somehow. That laughter that makes you feel lucky to be there at that exact moment, with those people. That is what life is all about.

Standing, Waiting and Talking

I went to Brooklyn for Thanksgiving to see family, and the trip is pretty much summed up by standing, waiting, and talking.

My family and I drove down on Wed. night, and it was a pretty normal drive down, complete with the John Hodgman audiobook and then my mom getting tired of it and me putting in my headphones and reading.  I read The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, which was amazing.  We made really good time and got there relatively early, about 10ish.  I got to see my sister (who has been away at college), and part of my extended family, My great aunt and uncle, who are closer to my mom's age, and my mom's cousins, who are in their 20s.
The talking began that night.  We stayed up till 12 or 1 simply catching up before finally going to bed downstairs.  I had to sleep on an air mattress with my sister, and there was not enough blankets, so I was freezing the entire night.  I woke up at 5 to go to the bathroom and realized I had forgotten to take out my contacts.  I went upstairs with my bag that I thought had my contacts stuff in it, then had to go back downstairs because it wasn't it.  I finally got the stuff downstairs, and of course, on my way across the room, I hit a cymbal, waking up my mom and sister.  My great uncle plays drums.  And I stumbled into his drumset at 5 in the morning, in a room with sleeping people in it.  My gracefulness never ceases to amaze me.
The incident really creeped out my sister, since she thought it was a ghost because she didn't see me go back upstairs, then I came down.  Much hilarity about the incident ensued the next morning.

Thanksgiving!  My little cousin and aunt and uncle came, and it was great to see them.
It's funny, because my family doesn't watch thanksgiving football, we mostly just hang out and listen to music while talking about things from politics to YouTube videos.  We took this long walk in Prospect Park, and it was really interesting to see the extent of the damage Sandy had done.  We watched some ducks and took some pictures and refused to make decisions on which way we wanted to go.  When we got back, the room smelt like thanksgiving.
Then came the first incident of waiting.  My mom's cousin had to work, and got back, well, about 2 hours after the food had been done.  So we were all waiting for 2 hours, our stomachs grumbling, and the food sitting there temptingly.  We were ravenous by the time she arrived, sat down, went around with what we were thankful for, and stuffed ourselves silly.  I don't actually like much thanksgiving food, even the pies, but I ate a lot of mashed potatoes, and 5 pilgrim hats made with marshmallows and cookies and chocolate my cousin made.

I keep on talking about the amount of talking we do, but it is just one of the things I really love about the people I am related to.  All this seamless, effortless conversation, instead of silence of knifes scraping plates, awkward coughing, and things unsaid.  When we get together the laughs are limitless, the thoughts profound, and it is just a very enjoyable time.  Exhausting, but enjoyable.
My dad had to leave after dinner to back home for work the next day, and my sister moved onto the sofa bed, so I had an extra blanket and a lot of room, and I remembered to take out my contacts.  Needless to say, once we got to bed, again obscenely late, I had a much better sleep

The next day my mom, my sister, and I went Black Friday Shopping.  At Macy's.  In New York City.  After a long train ride, we finally got there.  It was packed to the point where you could honestly get trampled.  There were people literally directing traffic, telling people to practically run off the escalator, all of them very disgruntled and overwhelmed.  We went to shoes first, and I found some purple Keds that I really liked and that were half price.  I only had one shoe, from the shoe rack, and I had to get the box.  The lady helping scanned it, and then I waited.  I ended up standing there for about 40 minutes squeezed up against a wall of shoes, waiting to get this other shoe.  They finally got it, but I had to buy it at the register there, so I waited for another 20 minutes for my mom and sister to come back with their own shoes.  We finally bought the shoes.
But we still needed coats, and my sister needed a hat.  After another hour or two of browsing and waiting in various lines, we made it out alive and with the new purchases.  I got a gray motorcycle jacket, which I love, along with the keds.  But one of my first thoughts in the brisk NYC November air, was I'm probably never going to want to do that again, followed closely by I need to sit down.
Even the train back was complicated, since we needed to take the R to meet my aunt, uncle, and cousin for dinner, but it was out of service due to Sandy.  It resulted in confusion, and more standing, but we finally got there, and the food was this delicious thin crust pizza, and I got to sit, and well, I was just really, really happy.  When we got back, we watched The Holiday, which was silly, but very satisfying.

Saturday was my last day, and I had a easy uneventful morning.  My sister and I went and got some coffee and hot chocolate at a coffee shop, but other than that I stayed in their apartment until I had to leave for the train station.
I was an unaccompanied minor, since my mom was coming back later and my sister was heading in the opposite direction, and I am one measly month away from 16.  This meant I had to get there an hour earlier, be escorted on and off the train, and be dropped off and picked up by designated people.  And I had to wear this bracelet that made me look like I was in a hospital.
I am terrible at packing, and this trip especially, I brought too much stuff.  In my backpack I brought my 15-pound history textbook with me, along with 2 folders and a notebook, and 2 pairs of shoes and 3 books, and a sweatshirt.  So when we got there early, I had to carry this on my back everywhere, for about 2 hours.  Penn Station has no seats other than waiting areas you need your ticket to get into, and since my mom and sister were with me we couldn't all get in.  Standing and waiting.
Once I was on the train though, it was smooth sailing.  I was on the acela, a very fancy train, and I got a single seat due to my unaccompanied status.  I started reading City of Bones by Cassandra Clare, and that is pretty much all I did.  My dad picked me up and we went home, and I had cocoa puffs for dinner, because I am a rebel.  I also stayed up till 2 finishing the book, further enhancing my badassery.

I had a great time, like I do every year, because I love my family, and I am thankful for them.  Thanksgiving is just a time for me to be thankful for my incredibly amazing life.  Something I noticed with all the waiting though, is you can spend your life waiting for the next thing to happen, or you can live in the moment.

Snow and church

It's snowing tonight. The first snow of the year, all of these wet little flakes flying around, and it's beautiful. When isn't snow beautiful though? There is actually a fair bit of snow on the ground!
I facetimed with my sister and her friend for a bit tonight, which was awesome. Sometimes I forget how much she makes me laugh, and how much I miss her. I'll see for thanksgiving though thank goodness.

In addition to my grand list of things I did over the last two weeks, I spoke at my church on Sunday.

I was honestly shaking the entire time, but I got a lot of compliments. I was asked to write something about how growing up Unitarian Universalist has affected me, and of course, I left it until Friday at 9. I was up till 1 trying to get something coherent together, which was just a bad idea on many different levels.
Two of my friends actually came, which I was not really expecting. It was cool to share that part of my life with them. I feel like I have so many different groups of people that are pretty much separate from each other, and it was strange to see one part a bit integrated.
I don't know if many people know why Unitarian Universalism is, but here is what I said.

I have been coming to first parish ever since I can remember. And honestly, I can’t imagine growing up in any other religious community.
I went through the religious education program here and although I don’t remember much about it specifically, it helped me garner a well rounded education of not just my religion, but others, and the values that are important to me now.
From watching the Simpsons to taking the OWL course, saying the program is not a normal RE program seems like kind of an understatement. I always resented having to wake up and go do things on Sunday mornings, but looking back, it was a valuable experience for me. I mean, it beats learning extensively about something I don’t necessarily believe in. And I made so many memories! Like being Clara Barton in the Christmas pageant, or helping write it, or this one time in OWL…
Maybe I’ll save that for another time.
I didn’t grow up learning that there is only one true religion, I didn’t grow up learning being gay is a sin, or that whether or not you get eternal happiness is whether or not you do a, b, and c on a daily basis, and I am grateful for that. I am not saying that gratefulness is true for everyone, im not saying that other religions are inferior, it is just the best choice for me.
I’m sure I’d be the same person if I didn’t grow up in this community, but getting to where I am today would have been a lot longer and harder process. Being UU has not only exposed me to amazing friends and experiences, as well as delicious food, but it also helped me develop a better understanding of others and I guess even myself.
Believe me, trying to explain to my friends what being UU actually is is HARD. Is not a very strict religion, and it doesn’t have a strict set of beliefs I can easily recite. I usually simplify it into “well you can kind of believe what you want, its more about peace and love and doing the right thing?” I guess that’s my interpretation of it. Then try to say the affirmation and doxology, because they explain it better than I ever could.
I don’t know all the UU principles, I don’t come to church every Sunday, but I do know that becoming UU was the best choice my parents ever made for me. Besides having me and my sister. And marrying.
What I love most about growing up UU is that I get to be part of a wonderful church community connected by similar set of values, but the community isn’t dictating what I should believe. Thankfully, I will never be under pressure to feign belief in some superior being, and I will always feel my personal belief is accepted. I got to form my own credo. That choice of belief, that encouragement to always ask questions, grow spiritually and to find out who you are on your own terms is what growing up UU has given to me.
I am UU because my parents are, but I will continue to be UU for the rest of my life for that unique acceptance and encouragement. I want my kids to experience the same benefits of choice and questioning that is part of UUism and part of me. I want to see what being a UU for my entire life is like, I want to grow and discover and share with my community. I want to drink some coffee and talk during social hour, I want to light a candle either for a joy, or a sorrow. Someday. Right now, I’m perfectly happy just helping out with the little kids, trying to fit youth group in, and pondering the existence of a higher being, in my own way.

The Concert

It's been a pretty eventful past couple of weeks to say the least.  I went to San Fransisco, escaping Hurricane/Super Storm Sandy, on Friday the soccer seaosn ended, and on Saturday night I went to a Freelance Whales concert.
I was supposed to write this last night, but then I started watching Supernatural, which I do not think was a wise decision for my schoolwork and sleep.  Oh well.
San Francisco was just amazing.  I will probably write a long post about it at some point, but I really want to say what I want to say about this concert that frustrated me greatly.  I probably should be talking about the election, but I think that there is enough about that out there right now.

The music was incredible.  At concerts, that is where I feel most alive, the closest I come to love.  There is something somewhere about your heart beating out of your chest, I think it is in a song.  That is what I feel when the bass is running through my veins and the music and people are surrounding me united in a love of words and music strung together in a way that means something
I went with my friends, one of them lives far away now, so that was amazing, although one of them couldn't stand near us because she couldn't breathe well in the space.  It was the third concert I've been to, and its strange how each has been different.
The first was outside.  I stood mostly in the open, with my sister, family, and a few family friends.  The Decemberists were playing
The second was crowded, in a large venue, with my friends, there were a lot of people my age, packed in like sardines.  I danced a lot, let loose a bit, screamed the songs.  Two Door Cinema Club was playing
This was in a smaller venue.  There was a lot of college people.  I was pretty squished.  Unfortunately, there was a couple to my left and a couple (with a 6-foot-tall guy) right in front of me.  They both were very affectionate.
Don't get me wrong, this concert was just as great as the last two, but I also felt very lonely.  It was the couples, but it was mostly the guy two rows in front of me, right in front of the 6-foot mass.  He was gorgeous.  And I wanted to go and talk to him, flirt with him maybe.  Because I felt pretty nice looking that night, because I was wearing make-up, I had my hair down, I had a new sweater on, one of those oversized knit ones that hung off my shoulder just so.  But I couldn't go up to him.  I still didn't feel pretty enough, not confident enough.
I have always been consumed by the idea of meeting someone in an interesting place, like a concert, or an airport.  I am a romantic person, and the idea of romantic recklessness has always appealed to me.  But when the time came to bump into him and smile, try to flirt, I just couldn't.  I could have the last songs, when I was right behind him.  But he didn't turn around.  And I made up all these reasons why I couldn't, that it was a bad idea to dance next to him.  He wouldn't find me attractive, I can't flirt, I am too socially awkward, he is hard to get too etc.  But at the same time, I wanted to let go, take a chance, so incredibly badly.
But I didn't.  The last song was played, and we moved separate ways.  Me to get water, then shiver outside in my sweater waiting for my friend's dad to pick us us.  Him to his own bed, maybe with the same incessant ringing in his ears that was in mine.
In a perfect world, I thought, I would be sexy, and flirty.  There wouldn't be that couple in front of us.  I'd ask him if he'd want to dance, and we'd have fun.  We'd talk, maybe exchange numbers, maybe I'd finally have my first kiss.
But this isn't a perfect world.

Binge Writing

Hi, I'm Molly, and I am a binge writer.
I go through stints of writing a lot.  All of a sudden I just have to write down every single little thing, and my mind is just bursting with "great" ideas and its wonderful and I'm going to be a writer...
And then it stops.  All of a sudden wasting my day doing things like watching tv or aimlessly scrolling through various sites on the internet, relying on someone else to think and create for me.  And then a month later it starts all over again.
The worst part about this method is the conviction about halfway through my off period that I am doing absolutely nothing with my life, even though I am not even out of high school.  And I have this nagging voice in my head saying, why can't you write, why can't you be original, creative, perfect, every second.  But even with this knowledge, it still takes me a while before I log off my websites, finish my homework, and actually start up again.
It was the same thing with reading for a while.  I'd read about 3 books in a week, then wait three weeks then read more books, staying up to unwise hours of the night.  I've gotten better, but more in that I don't read once every month. I still stay up too late finishing a book that I PROMISED myself I would only read a chapter of, pretty frequently.
Now I need to do the same for writing.  I need to get in a habit of just writing something, anything, at least once a day if I am not buried by my own over-scheduling.  It is hard but I am working on it, so hopefully these things will be a bit less sporadic in the days to come.  I've wanted to do nanowrimo for 2 years, but I don't see it happening anytime soon.  At least the want is there.

The only thing about being in a constant mood of creativity, is that I am pretty sure my sleep will rapidly decrease.  Sometimes, if I just wrote something, and I stop to go to bed, my brain won't shut up easily, and then I can't get to sleep, so I continue writing, and then it's this downward spiral of a lot less sleep than is necessary for me to function properly.  I call it "creative insomnia."
It feels really nice when it is happening, kind of what I am feeling right now.  Your eyelids are heavy, but you are wide awake, feeling the words finally coming, anticipating the click clack of the keyboard, or the familiar sound of pencil sliding across paper and the line of graphite on the side of your hand, marking you as a writer.
I kind of feel at peace with the world at these times.  The world is so delightfully undisturbed at, say, 1 o'clock.  I have a distinct memory of leaning my head against the window frame my bed was under when I was younger.  And it would be raining and I could feel the crisp cold of the downpour through the window, and the wood smelt like wood ought to.  Then I'd stand on my bed and look through the window and see the streetlight turning the raindrops into fire as the water and light crossed paths. Then I'd pull my comforter up around me and I would this perfect temperature.
And I'd think to myself: "This is what it feels like to be alive."
That's what I crave, what I want to feel like everyday.  I just wish there was enough time.

The Title

I'd like to explain the title of the blog.  It is a song lyric, from the song Nothing Like You by Frightened Rabbit.

It's a quality song, here is a link.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZn1V7O1Qd0

It compares getting over someone to recovering from an operation getting rid of a tumor. 
"as the size of this tumour diminishes
so we fill that black hole"

I feel like that is amazing.  Just the idea of filling a black hole is so far-fetched, and I feel like it kind trying to fill your brain, your imagination.  That's what writing tries to do, fill the black hole.

School

I went back to school the week before yesterday, and I am not incredibly sure how I feel about it.  There is this routine that I am forced into as soon as school starts, which is stable, but tedious.  I get up, go to to school, go to soccer, go home, do homework, eat dinner, watch tv or go on the internet or read, then bed.  That's it, and although it keeps me busy, I am already getting sick of it.
But this year, I think I have better teachers, and although it will be a lot more work, learning is the most important part of school right?  English seems fun this year, a lot of interesting books,and we have already had two writing assignments.  I am okay with the social part, I have friends in all my classes.  One of my friends is in almost all my classes, except one, and next semester she'll be in all of them.  We spend way too much time together, we were together all classes last year, and we do winter track together, as well as hang out on the weekend.  We get along, which is good, because although I see myself as a patient person, it is wearing thin more and more often.  I think my town is getting to me.  Soccer can be hard, since my close friends aren't on the team.
The thing about my town is that it is small.  I know and have spoke to almost everyone in my grade.  Although my school is pretty good in terms of academics, it is mediocre and poor compared to the schools around.  And I honestly don't really fit in with the ideal girl of the town, the one that wears sweatpants and sweatshirts and t-shirts, but still straightens their hair every morning.  She plays field hockey and basketball and lacrosse, and is all about "Raider Pride."  The girl that appeals to the guys in my town, who use YOLO without a hint of irony in their voice, and are mentally stuck in 6th grade.  The girl whose parents grew up here.  I don't necessarily want to be one of those girls, especially since their friend group seems very dramatic and stressful.  It's really refreshing to spend time with only my close friends or my friends from other towns, and remember that not every place is like my school.
I'm trying to let my hair down this year, literally and figuratively.  I want to keep my hair down more this year, a change from the middle part and bun at the base of my neck I sported three out of the five days of the week last year.  Its a bit curly.  And by a bit I mean very.  I want to let loose a bit.  Not keep everything neat and orderly, not quite so safe and guarded.
I am always a bit stressed during the school year, since I usually put too many things on my plate, and I try really hard all the time.  I am taking AP US History this year, my first AP class, as well as all honors classes other than band and web design.  I have a fair amount of homework this weekend, which is annoying because I already have to go to soccer and go to a gathering of my friends from other towns, as well as babysit Sunday night and watch the kids at my church, then go to youth group.  Right now though, I am going to read, then sleep.

A Walk in the Rain

Today, I decided to go to the library.  I have a very long list of books to read, and had already finished the three I had taken out.  I hadn't done anything yet, soccer had been cancelled, a blessing, since I still feel under the weather.  The weather itself was the problem, since it was raining, and had been on and off throughout the day.

So I got ready, put on some actual clothes, and got the books to return together as well as my card and 5 dollars, in case I wanted to stop at Starbucks on the way back.  When I went outside, I realized it was still raining, turned around, and went back inside, wondering whether or not I should still go.

I have nothing against rain, in fact, I love it.  It's just I need to be in the right mood.  I was wondering whether or not going would make my cold rebound, and I needed to be back in a certain amount of time because I had a babysitting job.  But I really wanted new books.  

I walked outside again, and knew immediately I had made the right decision.  The air was practically balmy and even though the rain became the insistent drizzle that umbrellas did nothing against, but it was still pleasant.  Summer rains are the best. It brought to my mind those night downpours where I sat in bed up against the windowsill and just listened to the rain.  When I smelled the wood of the window, and the rain, and watched the streetlights illuminate the drops falling fast.  

I went down, and managed to see only one or two people that I know at the library.  Something weird about my town is that a lot of the people who hang out around the library don't actually seem to read very much.  They just play on the computers and hang out in the park nearby.  These people always make my library visits less than ideal.  Although I have nothing against most of the people down there, I always feel self-conscious as I am the only one actually browsing.  And though it is widely known that I'm nerdy, I don't necessarily like to point it out to many people.

It was a success though, I got 5 of the books on the list and walked home, even taking off my sweater halfway through.  I realized wearing foam flip-flops were not the best idea, as I slipped and almost fell on four different occasions, but I got home, ate a piece of pizza, and went to babysitting.

I love babysitting.  I got to pretend to be a tickle-monster, then read to them, then made up a story.  Then I got to go downstairs and read straight through one of the books I got and listened to music.  And I got paid $40 bucks for it.

Today was a good day.

Hello

Hello, my name is Molly Day, and this might be my blog.  It's a new thing for me, and I'm trying it out.  I have no idea what I'm doing.  I just feel this is a more productive use of my time than spending all of my free time on tumblr, or youtube, or facebook.  How are you today?  I'm just dandy, but I have a cold thing.  My voice doesn't work properly.  You know those times?  Where your throat is perpetually dry, and every time you speak, you sound like a frog, and you can feel the tortured sound waves bouncing around.  And then my nose is just really stuffed up and runny at the same time.  So I will be spending the day in bed.  If I didn't, my mother would probably kill me.  She is extremely worried about the amount of rest I get.

So I guess we should acquaint ourselves with each other?  Here are ten things about myself:

1.  I'm a perfectionist.

2.  I don't take risks, or try new things often.

3.  I'm pretty weird and nerdy and awkward, but then again, who isn't in some way?

4.  I'm lucky.  I have two amazing parents, an awesome sister, a great group of friends, nice things, a roof over my head, and a good amount of food to eat.

5.  My 5 button on my computer doesn't work well.

6.  I'm a pretty happy person, but sometimes the day can get me down.

7.  I have a large blank wall in my room, and I am too lazy to fill it with all the things I love.

8.  I love music, books, writing, my friends and family, TV, movies, nature, food, sleep, pretty things, and track and soccer.

9.  One of my bigger goals in life is to make a difference.

10.  I have been wanting to do something like this for a year, but never knew how to start.

This blog is going to be my creative dumping ground.  Things I find important, annoying, fascinating.  Random stuff that goes on inside my head, especially when I can't sleep.  I just hope I can keep this up.  I have tried doing diaries since I was little, and have yet to fill one up.

Have a nice day,

Molly