Pirates, Cough Drops, and Summer

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Drink and devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!"


I've been lying curled up all day with Dad's copy of Treasure Island, immersing myself in a world of buccaneers, hidden treasures, and warm tropical islands. The weather has been pretty much the same outside as in the book, but I've been too busy sucking steadily on my endless supply of cough drops in hopes of calming my scratchy throat, and wiping my runny rose, to go outside and enjoy it. 


Shame.


But Robert Louis Stevenson's imagination has been keeping me company so I can hardly complain. 


The end of school approaches. The assignments and tests are done with. Grades have been set. Graduation in a week. I'm pleased. 


And soon I'll be in Japan. Eating delectable traditional food and meeting my sweet grandparents. 


Being ill is pretty terrible, but I've got way too many good things outweighing it to ruin my day. So excuse me, I must return to the doings of the one-legged Captain Long John Silver. 

Life in a nutshell

It's Sunday. It's pouring with rain. And it's May.
Almost summer.


Life has been flying by. Almost too quickly.
Shakespeare Day steadily approaches. I'm starting to get worried about my poor heart. All the stress and the worry. But it'll be all right in the end. I know it.


Spanish nationals on Monday and Math nationals on Tuesday. Help me. Should be bearable though. That is, if I study a bit today.


I'm feeling somewhat blue too.
Less than a month until school ends. Already one year cleared of high school. And only too more remain. And hey, my childhood is just ticking away. The hourglass is running out.


Life. Such a short word. But it's a lot deeper and bigger than it looks. The irony of it makes me laugh.


You know what? I think with a little Carpe Diem, today might be quite a good day.

Here it is, the clip of the day. 

All I can say is, watch and contemplate. Perhaps even shed a little tear, as I did. 

If they wanted to send a message to a sixteen year-old, I hope they know that I, without a doubt, did receive it. 

Dear 16 Year-Old Me

Spring, Sun, Shakespeare and Mocktails

The sun has been shining like a young girl in love for the past few days, marking the beginning of spring. No more ever present snow, no more endlessly dismal dark days. Oh, how refreshing.


And my dear sister has discovered the art of cocktail (and mocktail) making. Lucky for me, I get to be a part of the official tasting team. 

Shakespeare Day draws near. Our class is trudging up the chaotic route to producing a "kick-ass" performance of A Midsummer Nights Dream. Hermia's lines sit in my lap, waiting to be memorized and regurgitated in the most appropriate manner. And could line-learning be made any better than if you're lazing in the sun with a fresh virgin orange daiquiri in hand? All I can say is, "God, I love spring."

The Simple Joys in Life

Today, I managed to realize the simple joys in life. Here they are in order of appearance. 

• Friends (What would I honestly be without them? Actually, don't answer that.)
• Drama (I mean the theatre type, not the real-life stuff. It is definitely something to be cherished so long as it isn't real.)
• Coffee (What to have when you're on the verge of death due to exhaustion, have a 5 hour rehearsal for your musical and haven't eaten properly the entire day? The answer is coffee. Addictive, but delicious. You're my hero.)
• Mothers (My mum packs me the cutest little lunch boxes. And wow, how I love her for it!)
• Realizing how wonderful a book is (Picking up The Picture of Dorian Gray was the greatest things I did today. I never thought somebody could write so beautifully. And oh, the laughs Oscar Wilde can conjure! Not even 40 pages have passed and I love him already.)

What would life be without these sweet things? 

I'm glad I don't have to know.

Feeling Somewhat Lost

I would like to pardon the abrupt and continued absence from my blog. It feels as though I've been shot in the head as I feel I can't string one creative thought with the other. So many thoughts and so little results. Oh well, at least I can be comforted by the greatness of other people's amazing work.

Like Shakespeare.

I read A Midsummer Night's Dream the other day. I have now come to the conclusion that Shakespeare uses the most amazing metaphors I have encountered in my short life.

Oh, and I've found my favorite line. It was spoken by Demetrius when he declared his love for Helena.

"Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, and will for evermore be true to it."

Sigh. I think I just melted. I'm such a hopeless romantic.

He's also quite funny too. I wasn't really expecting that. 

Oh, writer's block go away. For I do detest thee and am now in desperate need of a cure.

I think I might start watching the never-ending Pride and Prejudice series done by BBC this weekend. Beautiful language spoken in British accents is like music to my ears. And Colin Firth is my idol. Or perhaps I'll watch Singin' in the Rain. And wonder where all the amazing actors, dancers and singers like Gene Kelly have disappeared to. It's such a shame that the movie industry isn't at all like it was before. 

Enough of this pointless writing. Hopefully I'll be cured soon. I can't stand this anymore. I am now going to begin to listen to the Beatles in hopes of a sudden spark of inspiration.

Good night.

7 Billion

7 billion. People. On earth. 

Isn't it scary?

7 billion hearts beating.

7 billion brains thinking.

7 billion individuals on this planet.

I find it hard to believe.

In the January 2011 issue of the National Geographic (which I will admit I subscribe to, and I will also inform you that it is a very good magazine which I highly recommend!), they included a special article about population and about how there are almost 7 billion people living, right now, on this massive green and blue ball that we call home. Unfortunately, I haven't had time to read it yet, since it only just arrived a few days ago due to some delivery difficulties. (Funnily enough, the February issue arrived earlier than the January issue!) But I am expecting it to be great, so I can't wait to curl up in bed soon and have a nice thorough read of it.

They also included a very simple page, which I have photocopied and posted below, of some facts about if the world were to meet up and have a gigantic party together. Could you imagine that? I would definitely go! Anyway, I thought it was very creative of them to put together these fun facts that one wouldn't usually really think about. Personally I find it really fascinating, so I wanted to share it with others. 

Oh, and please excuse the imperfect scanning, I was in a hurry.

By the way! The National Geographic website is pretty brilliant. Do take a look!

A Girl Like Me

Karen Carpenter was singing. Her clear voice rung through the air, joining the sounds of cutlery and the chatter from the dinner table. The slow and sentimental tune indicated the beginning of "Rainy Days and Mondays" and suddenly the room fell silent apart from the music.
    "I remember when she sang at that concert. Poor her." my mother said.

Five scenes played in my head, one after the other. The school production of the Wizard of Oz. Introducing myself to a new girl at my table on the first day of fourth grade. A blonde girl sitting helplessly at the side of the playground wearing flip flops whilst everybody else ran around playing tag. Tears streaming down my face as I sat in the summer heat. And a girl running through clouds, her blonde hair swinging, as though nothing could ever stop her.

I had known Teana since I was in kindergarten. She and I had been in girl scouts together and we had gotten along really well. I don't remember much of my childhood, but I do remember the time when we went to the school production of the Wizard of Oz. We giggled at the flying monkeys, gasped at the Wicked Witch of the West, and admired Dorothy's pretty shoes as her mother sat beside us and smiled. She didn't know then. Teana didn't either. Neither did I.

About 4 years spanned between our meeting again. We had both quit girl scouts after that year and since we didn't go to the same school, we drifted out of each other's lives. But on the first day of fourth grade, I sat down next to a girl with long blonde hair and together we greeted one another formally. After exchanging names, there was a strange feeling that we knew one another, but it had been so many years ago that we couldn't really be sure. But the names Teana and Blanca aren't the most common in the world, so after I few days we realized and felt a connection.

The year passed quickly. I tried to spend time with Teana, but I always got irritated with her because she would never run around outside. She would slump onto the bench at the side of the playground and watch us play, giving us excuses like "I don't feel like it." or "I'm wearing flip flops so I can't run." Nobody wanted to play anything but running games, so she always sat on the same bench in the shade, watching us with a look of exasperation. But I realize now that the look she had in her eyes was not of exasperation, but of sadness and longing.

I don't remember saying good bye to Teana. She had plans to continue at this school so I must have given her a brief farewell and then run off, filled with excitement for summer vacation. I wish I had. I wish I could remember. But I can't.

The sun streamed onto the veranda and a summery breeze travelled through the open windows. My mother stopped me as I ran into the house to grab money for some ice cream.
    "Blanca, there's something I have to tell you." she said.
    "Okay, what?" I replied airily, expecting nothing serious.
    "Here, sit down." she beckoned towards the seat on the veranda onto which I sat.
    "Do you remember Teana?" she asked softly.
    "Yes." I answered. What on earth did Teana have to do with whatever she had to tell me?
    "You were friends with her weren't you?" she asked again.
    "Yes."
    "Well, do you remember when you told me about how she would never play on the playground? How she would sit on the side and wouldn't run?" she questioned cautiously.
    "Yes." I remembered the days when I came home frustrated because Teana would never participate and how I tried to invite her to our games, but she always declined.
    "Well, it's because..." she hesitated and by now, I could sense that something was wrong, I just couldn't figure out what. Teana was fine. Why was my mother mentioning her now?
    "Teana was sick. She had leukemia, it's a cancer that children get. That's why she could never run." The first bombshell.
    "She died this summer, Blanca."

I'm sorry, Teana. I'm sorry that I didn't realize. I'm sorry that I said mean things about you. I'm sorry that I never gave you a proper goodbye. I'm sorry that you couldn't tell anybody. I'm sorry that you had to die. I'm sorry that you won't live to see another day and that I will. I'm sorry you never got to grow up. I'm sorry you never got to be a real kid. I'm sorry you never got to live your dreams. I'm sorry that you had to face death so soon.

I've never been as cold as I was that day. The tears were streaming down my face and I felt like my insides had frozen even though it was a sunny and warm day in the middle of summer. When you're 10, you're too young to understand sickness. Too young to understand death. Too young to understand that it's not your fault. But you're not too young to feel the guilt that somebody else died while you now live, to feel the sadness of death, to all of a sudden understand how terrified she must have been. It's not easy to die when you're 10. It's not easy to understand anything. Death is the hardest to understand. And always will be, for anybody.
Because "The last enemy that will be destroyed is death."

She's running through the heavens now. She's finally free. Her long, blonde hair flowing behind her, she's running, sprinting, galloping, racing through the skies. She doesn't stop. Doesn't have to. Running to make up for all those days that she couldn't, that her body wouldn't let her. She's free now.

Keep running Teana. You don't have to stop.
Go.

A Possibly Hairy Situation

After much thought, I finally booked and made the nerve-wrecking trip to the hairdressers. Somehow 2011 seems to have called for changes, and to celebrate it, I've gotten a fringe (or bangs, if that's the term you prefer)! It was a spontaneous idea that was converted into reality. I'm so proud of myself. The last time I had a fringe was when I was 8 and the last daring thing I ever did to my hair was get it cut into a bob by my mother in our very own bathroom after watching a sing-a-long program with a woman with a bob on it. Unfortunately, the bob suited her and not me, and I only realized this after I had chopped off the majority of my hair. Since then, I haven't really have the courage to change.

As I lay in my chair today, with my head in a sink, hair lathered in an unfamiliar shampoo with foreign hands massaging my head, it dawned upon me that I was giving this 28 (ish) year-old blonde male hairdresser the responsibility that could earn me an awful lot of unwanted embarrassment. And to be perfectly honest, it scared me. But I guess it's one of those risks you take in life. Thankfully this guy was good at what he was doing so my hair looks absolutely fine and my family has assured me that I am in a fit state to go to school tomorrow.

But if you think about it, there are tons of jobs where we give all our trust to somebody with the risk that what they do could affect our lives dramatically. Here are some that I've figured.

• Hairdresser (If they suck and you're not happy with the result, you're screwed for the next 6 months of your life.)
• Doctor (Your life is in their hands. I don't think there's a better way to phrase that.)
• Lawyer (There is always the risk that you will lose something, mostly money... or you could end up in jail.)
• Pilot (You crash, you die. And so do the other 200 people on the plane.)
• Teacher (If the kids learn nothing and grow up to become stupid people, teachers get the blame. Not always so nice.)
• Tattoo artist (One mistake and it could ruin somebody's life. And sorry doesn't cut it.)

So far, that's all that I can think of, but I bet there must be more. Although I do suppose that every job in this world will affect a life in one way or another, but these are the most dramatic ones.

I'm pleased though. I was scared at that moment when he took my hair and asked me if I was ready for him to snip it off. And I was ready. And it looks good. Great actually. 

Thank god he didn't end up ruining the next 6 months of my life.

The Art of Describing Food

Today's school lunch:
Diced potatoes, pounded into soggy circular patties that have then been drowned in a appetizing pool of oil accompanied with cubes of bacon and fat coated in a thin film of oily perspiration.

Appetizing? Hell yes.

Fun fact for today:
I'm a huge fan of describing food! Reading about well-described food in books can mostly cause me to become insanely hungry, but sometimes it becomes my alternative to eating. Take the Harry Potter books for example. Those feasts sound absolutely marvellous, and most of the time, I actually feel a part of them while they last in the book. I even feel full sometimes! That's the beauty of adjectives. 

Although I don't have the slightest clue of what I'd like to be when I grow up, I think copywriter has always been on the list of potential jobs. Imagine that. I may never have to eat again! (Just kidding. I'm also a huge fan of food itself. There is no way that I am ever going to stop eating.)

But as you've probably figured out, I am not a fan of school food. I've always been a bit of a spoiled brat when it comes to food since my mum is a splendid chef.

Oh gosh. Now I'm hungry again. Time to raid the fridge... :)

Comforts

Somedays, you feel that life couldn't get worse.

Sometimes, you just want to know everything is going to be okay.

And there's always that weird item or smell that makes you feel a million times better.

I've finally figured out what makes me feel better:

The fragrance of freshly brewed coffee.

Walking into a coffee shop is my idea of heaven.

Eating dark chocolate.

Apparently chocolate contains some chemical that is produced when a person is in love, making them exceedingly happy.

That's probably why I have such a love affair with dark chocolate.

(This is making me sound like some depressed, hormonal teenager with a hopeless addiction to chocolate. I can assure that that is incorrect.)

The smell of new books and magazines.

I'm that weird person you see in bookshops who just stand there smelling the place. It looks bizarre, but it puts me at ease.

The smell and sight of food!

I admit that not every single type of food looks and smells utterly delicious, but most do. And coming home from a long day at school to the smell of dinner makes everything better.

Oh, and the food that smells the best, is pizza.

Now THAT is comforting.

The sea.

The fresh air, the salt, the freedom.

All the stress just disappears.

Like magic.

Storms.

When you're inside, it's cozy.

When you're outside, it makes you feel alive.

Either way, I love them.

Fires.

I sound like a pyromaniac.

But, don't worry, I only like them when they're small.

Nature in general.

The smell of it.

The sound of it.

The sight of it.

Everything.

Roadtrips.

They're cramped, yet cozy.

They're long, yet short.

There's something about them that I just love.

I just haven't figured it out yet.

And hugs.

Nothing beats the feeling of affection.

Enough said.

Another Clip about Another Love

I realize that this will be the second Youtube clip that I share today, but I figure it necessary since I remembered how great this is!

I'm a bit of a fan of sheep. They may not be the most intelligent animals on earth, but they are terribly cute and I've spent lots of time with them. Living in New Zealand where there are 10 times as many sheep as humans probably explains why it wasn't too hard to find a couple of look at.

This Youtube video is however, not from New Zealand, but it is about sheep! It's very creative and time consuming and I'm in real admiration of those who were dedicated enough to do this. All the training, all the sheep, and all the time needed must not have been easy!

And they couldn't have chosen a better soundtrack to go with the video!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2FX9rviEhw

Ice-Skating

The many categories one can find during a day at an ice-skating rink:

• The Amazing Asians- At the rate that some of these asians whizz about, you'd almost think they were born on the ice!
• The Super-moms on Skates- Being a mom doesn't mean you have to suck at ice-skating. These ladies reveal their hibernating ice-skating skills.
• The Suicidal, "Stop-drop-and-roll" children- The title says it all. They stop very suddenly in front of you. Then sprawl onto the ice. They then roll and slide around for a while, successfully scaring all the beginners who only just manage to leap out of the way. If you want to try to kill yourself and a little kid, just stand right behind one of the 4 year olds.
• The Pro Figure Skaters- They glide about making everything they do look graceful and simple... but after you try it yourself, you realize it wasn't as easy as it looked. 
• The Mediocres- Those who are neither beginners nor pros. Unfortunately, they tend to be victimized. 
• The Tourists- If you're in Sweden, you gotta ice skate, is what the tourists think. With their heads heavily protected with big helmets, walking like Frankenstein across the ice, things don't go too well for them. Poor things. Ice skating really isn't that easy.
• The Squealing Teenagers- When I say squeal, I mean squeal. They sound like pigs! I can't figure out whether they're acting or not, but since when was being pig-like attractive? 
• The Romantic "We're-so-in-love" Couples- The love filled looks, the smooching, and the inseparable hands. They cling on to one another as if the they would die if they didn't, so they're not hard to spot.
• The Insensitive Hockey Players- You're skating peacefully, minding your own business, and all of a sudden, WHOOSH, comes someone hurtling past you, barely two centimeters away from smashing into you. They have their hockey skating skills, so they're swift and they know it. Which explains why they're so insensitive.

However dangerous it may be, going to the ice-skating rink is terribly entertaining. All the stereotypes are there, and almost every single person can be classified under one of the categories. I can absolutely recommend the experience! :)

Would you?

Sorry,

but I would be really proud of myself

if the word ended today.

It sounds vain and overconfident, but it's true.

When I first saw this, I thought, "Hey! That is so true!"

but now that I think a second time,

I think I'm really happy with myself.

Pretty pleased.

Isn't that what happiness is?

To be pleased with yourself?

To be proud of what you're doing?

Isn't that a main point in life?

This is only my opinion, so perhaps you think differently.

What about you?

Would you be really proud of yourself?

Summer

I miss...

walks in the moonlight.

listening to the ocean and watching candles flicker.

finding strawberries that look like old men with scrunched up faces.

 building bonfires on beaches.

making s'mores with family.

flowers blooming here, there, and everywhere.

endless horizons of green and blue.

An Embarrassing Moment of Realization

The radio was turned on in the kitchen today. As usual. But today we listened to music instead of the news. I didn't really pay attention. Until suddenly, James Blunt's song, "You're beautiful" came on. 

I suddenly remembered the days when I was a tiny little 12 year old. This was probably the most played song on my iPod. It became a mantra. I listened to it countless times wondering if there would be a guy out there who thought about me in that way. 

"You're beautiful it's true." 

And what I thought then was - Could a song be any more beautiful?

So here I was, at age 16, standing in the kitchen dancing around reminiscing over my days as a "pre-teen", when suddenly, I started listening to the lyrics. 

Perhaps I should have stopped.

Run out of the kitchen.

Held my ears.

But I didn't, and for the first time, I heard what the lyrics REALLY implied. 

James Blunt talks of seeing a girl one time, then judging her by her appearance, and claiming that he'd like to be with her forever. But what if that girl, however beautiful she may have been, was the meanest person on earth? Or the blandest? Or possibly the kindest? Did he care what her personality was? Not really. He just decided that he'd like to be with this gorgeous person without even exchanging a single word with her. 

I know the world is getting strange, but that's just over the top.

I couldn't stop cringing. I can't believe how gullible I was at the time! How could I possibly think this song beautiful? It is just plain offensive and very shallow of him. 

If he'd like to mention that he thought a girl he saw in the subway was pretty, fine.

If he'd like to sing a song about a girl who he'd like to spend the rest of her life, fine. 

But combining the two is just unrealistic. 

This song is, in my opinion, offending. And it makes me realize how gullible I used to be, and how much older and wiser I've become, in a good way that is. 

Hopefully I don't get one of these embarrassing moments of realization again. 

Because I can tell you, it wasn't too comfortable. 

Friendships with Snowmen

Dear Dogs,
I understand that your relationship with snowmen have so far been a good one.
Probably good enough to say that you are friends.
When you're friends with somebody though, I highly doubt that "marking" them as your territory is the answer.
Regards,
A passerby

Beauty

What is beauty?

Beauty can be on the outside.

But I think it mostly comes from within.

Those who are beautiful on the inside,

with kind hearts and loving personalities,

are beautiful.

That sort of inner beauty radiates out

and becomes obvious to everybody.

There are people who may be beautiful on the outside

and not at all on the inside.

And it shows.

There faces are cold.

Hard.

It can become obvious too.

Places can be beautiful too.

Like New Zealand for example.

I love it there.

Life can be beautiful.

When you are content with what you have,

when you are pleased with yourself,

and when you are prepared to face the future,

then life can be beautiful.

Beauty can be the word to describe balance.

A balance of pain and of joy in life.

The word beauty is made up of opinions.

Each person has their own view on it.

That's how I perceive beauty anyway.