Realization Strikes

It's easy to think that my world is the only one that exists,  and forget how fast it can expand.

And as my world has been becoming more and more real with the anticipation of college, I can feel it expanding, as I meet new people and start to truly understand that I will no longer be in high school in a few months. 

I've been waiting for this realization for what seems like forever, but honestly, my initial reaction seems to be wrong, because what was supposed to be excitement and composure has actually turned out to be intimidation.

I'm a person who likes to be prepared for things, at least know a general outline of what to expect, but my life doesn't seem to be going in a general and expected outline.

I expected to get into Syracuse University and go to Newhouse, but now the excitement of that  acceptance letter is diminishing along with my dream of working for the New York Times, and  my intended major of journalism has been replaced with a major in psychology and minor in Spanish.
 And getting to the realization that there are other places to go than Syracuse, and that I may no longer want to be a journalist was not an easy one.

But isn't that what life is about? Changing your mind as your world expands, and as you continue to challenge yourself in every way possible? Isn't it about continuing to grow as a person, even if it's immensely exhausting?
I find myself realizing that I am no longer a child,  because I'm growing up at an exponential rate right before my eyes, as I prepare for my Posse interview, as I take a college class, as I yearn for stimulating conversations that don't end in me getting asked out in a text message, or playing another game of 21 questions, as I realize that I can now partake in adult conversations I was initially shunned from.

And it seems as if throughout all of this, my written words are the one point of clarity, the one thing that ensures I can stop my world from spinning nauseatingly as I grow up.   

Side Tracked

I like to believe that true love exists, as I watch my parents still hold hands and catch each other off guard with the words, "I love you", at the simplest of moments.

But it seems as if there's this uncanny need for people to someone they want something from the exact thing they want to hear, which makes love seem completely extinct as it becomes an entire exchange on Facebook or text messages.

I just want someone to challenge me, emotionally, socially, mentally, someone who will provide me with a mutual respect and not throw the word love around like it doesn't mean anything, someone who will tell me how they feel when things get rough, instead of turning to my best friend for "emotional support" I'm apparently not providing.

I don't want someone to try and rationalize why we should be friends with benefits. 

And I'm tired of this conversation:

Hey.

Hey.

Wyd?

Homework.

Y?

Cuz I have a lot.

Wow, ok sure.

What?

Nun.

Smh.

Y?

Because. 

(20 minutes later):Well anyways babe we should go out.

The lack of substance in that conversation isn't the only thing that bores me, it's the fact that I'm getting asked out by the end. Am I supposed to feel flattered by that last text message? because I'm pretty sure the rest of the conversation put me to sleep.

And when did I become your babe?

What about talking about politics, or your views on religion? Or  an honest conversation about how what your aspirations are, your biggest fears and insecurities?

So no, I don't want to play 21 questions, in which every question is a variation of whether I'd date you, or how much I like you.

I want to be challenged to think differently, to think deeply about things like whether I'm Catholic because I was born into it, or whether  my love for writing defines me.

So why do continue to get side tracked by the people who call me babe and play 21 questions to see how I feel about them before they ask me out in a text message?

Conquering Fear

I often wonder how people conquer their fears, how they are able to do things they know they can do, but are intimidated by.
I started this year ruminating that, and telling myself that this year  will only be an extension of the last few months of junior year, when I finally realized that college was real, and started working up to my full potential.
And now here I am, in the beginning of my last year of high school, and I'm wondering about people conquering fear.
Because I have a fear.
It's more of intimidation, but nevertheless, it's something I know I have to overcome.
And that intimidation is the rigor of AP Spanish.
(It feels better getting that off my chest.)
Now I knew it was going to be difficult.
But now that I'm here, taking the class, I feel myself asking why did I take this class?
I would have so much less stress if my last period was study hall.
But as I think about this, I go back the initial question:
 How do people conquer fear?
By confronting it.
I know I can do well in this class. I just have to believe  it. I have to speak more spanish at home. I have to annotate the back of spanish books sometimes. I have to watch the news in spanish, and sometimes switch my indie rock playlist for some salsa while I do my homework. And lastly, I have to stop being deathly terrified of messing up my conjugations when I speak spanish in class.

I know I can do well in this class, because of people like Mr. Baker and Ms. Leach who have told me so, and because I refuse to do any less than I am capable of.

So this is me, pledging to swallow the intimidation I feel and accept the challenge. Who knows, maybe I'll trade in my old dreams of becoming a famous journalist and teach spanish instead.


*by the way, if you're interested in reading about a day in the life of a saber in spanish, feel free to check out my new blog:http://thisurlshouldbeinspanish.blogspot.com/
Comentarios son apreciados.

Senior Year..It's Here

So it's official. Summer came and went before i could complete all of the things on my summer bucket list. Seriously, it feels as if I went to sleep on the first day of summer and next thing I know, my alarm went off at five thirty because it was the first day of my senior year.
Wow that feels weird, saying that.
I'm still calling the new juniors sophomores, and yesterday I wrote OSU for my house on my Environmental Science Do Now.
But no, it's true. I spent my entire first day of school defining the word citizenship and strategizing how to sell my school on Twitter.
And soon enough, I'll be going upstairs during lunch for office hours, after school in Essay clinic workshops, and spending my nights sitting at my dining room table, doing homework.
Just like junior year.
But it isn't like junior year, because college is no longer this distant dream I can fantasize about, it's something I actually have to apply for. I can no longer say, "Well there's always next time," because there's barely any time left.
Life has suddenly become terrifyingly real and the opposite of what I expected it to be.
I didn't expect to have collegiate prep first period. I didn't expect to have to write an essay in spanish on the second day of school. I didn't expect to be advised to apply to a community college as a safety school. I didn't expect to see so many unfamiliar faces in my school this year. I didn't expect to be thinking about going to a CUNY for at least two years before attending my dream school.
But I guess that's what happens  when you become a senior and you have to make these life changing decisions that didn't  seem real until about a month ago.