Introduction


Hey. I'm amazed you've stopped to take a peak! I'm sorry to say that my blog is full of negative, atrociously positive, philosophical, or otherwise stupid posts concerning my thoughts, feelings, and every day life. But what the hell! If you think it's great, then I think you're great. Got it?

Aug 27, 2011

The News Anchor Lady

Thursday morning was an interesting one, but only because I was in the mood to believe it was an interesting one. Not to mention that Thursday was an interesting DAY.

I woke to the sound of my radio. I had forgotten to turn it to the beep because I was too tired to get up the night before. My radio was loud and scratchy and filled with monotonous voices, including one lady's who droned about a girl being shot by her brother's BBgun. Now, any other time, I would have been troubled by the violent act, but it wasn't exactly the information that bothered me. It was the over all picture of The News. Put yourself in my shoes for a moment and think. I am a contemplative girl whose thoughts are scattered and opinions are open but not swayed by other's who are close-minded. Now, pretend as though you heard this.

What I heard, was a news story reaching out to someone and asking for pity. As Mr. Beeson puts it, "Artificially uplifting someone" because they're aware it hasn't happened to them. What do you say to that? Mr. Beeson is my Honors English teacher, and when I brought this point up in class, it fit perfectly with the quote of the day from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.

"We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?"

I was bothered by the question that arose in my head that morning and expressed it to the class during discussion time. Do people like to listen to bad news because they take delight in it? Do they feel as though there's nothing else to listen to? Is good news boring? Does taking pity in someone or something really help you get through life? If so, how would you change that?

I understand it's important to know about the world and politics and the country, but what I want to know is why, in our little state, we have to know about every little car accident and every little killing. Why do we have to know a store we've never heard of before was robbed the night before and the thief wasn't caught? Of course, we don't want to hear about a boys' choir singing at church. No, we want bad news that keeps us enthralled and on our toes, but why? Has anyone ever asked themselves that? WHY?

I don't know why. All I know is that I don't watch the news for that reason, and I wonder why other people don't do this. Maybe it goes back to the quote Guy Montag tells Mildred when he finds the book. Maybe it means that people aren't bothered as often as they should be. They're oblivious. They go on through life without even a twitch of their head because they're so absorbed in doing everything society does, or they're completely in their own little world. Even I am like that, but not to such an extent that it begins to become a problem for me. Instead of listening to my music, I met an awesome girl on the bus ride home, and all I talked about with her was everything that came to mind.

How many people can do that? Look at yourselves and ask that question, and then try to make a change. Change is constant in this world, and it's not bad. We just got to get used to it, and we got to accept it. We are habitual people, and we don't have to be. :)

What say you?

Aug 24, 2011

The School Week

People are obsessed with them, yet I don't get them. Sure, I'm good at Lego games and Guitar Hero, but any other game just makes me dizzy or they don't appeal. How do they do it? I'd much rather spend time on the computer typing up things like this, or seeing what my friends are doing on facebook than play video games. Of course, that's just me. I admire that people can do it for so many hours straight without going insane. I think I'd be one of the insane people if I were forced to do so... I also know that I would not be able to get work done if that were the case, which is why I don't do video games often. Only recently have I just started again. I play a few songs on guitar hero, because I'm good at it, and then I go crash. :| That's basically it. School, homework, sleep. *Sigh* Did I mention that I have homework now?

Basically what's going on is Algebra 2 will be assigning me homework assignments every day. So long as I do them and the quizzes, I don't fail the class. AP Art History is promising me lots of projects and notes and work, but I absolutely adore the teacher. Journalism will be fun. I'm sure that I'll have some work to do in there as well. Physiology gives me the feeling that I might not do so well, since I recently found out that it's concurrent enrollment, which is basically taking a high school class and a college class at the same time, but I don't think there's a test at the end of the year like AP classes. So long as I pass... German? A breeze. English? There's gonna be some work in there as well. Fitness will just wipe me out all day...I know it. I'll have a hard time staying awake when I get home. Like I am now. Umm...I stared at the screen for like five minutes just barely, trying to remember what other classes I have-- oh. Driver's Ed. So long as I don't miss a class, I'm good there. Work should be moderate.

Yep well...High School. The mother load.

Peace.

Aug 23, 2011

Waking Up

August 20th 2011

Kaeli and I are going to Trafalga at six. I though to sit down and write because I always have sentences running through my head that are amazing for openings, but I never write them down as often as I should. Let's start again:

Waking from a nap is the worst thing in the world. Why? Because you fall asleep in your clothes and wake the next hour with painful lines all over your arms, legs, and face. You just want to keep sleeping when you peel your eyes back, but suddenly you're being bipolar, and the next minute you feel amazing and wide awake.

Okay not amazing.

You feel artificially rested.

Oh well, I needed it.

Catching Up on Life

August 11th, 2011   12:04 PM

I've realized that no matter how many times you travel the road to get home, it's hard to give directions to someone who hasn't been. Maybe that's how it is with a lot of other philosophical things as well. Like a missionary trying to show someone to the church, or like trying to teach a student who doesn't get it.

You become paranoid after a while. Rachel is coming over, or hopefully is, and she's driving all by herself. I gave her as detailed instructions as I could give, and yet I feel like she'll get lost. It's not because I feel she's incapable of it. It's just that I feel paranoid. A missionary might feel paranoid that he couldn't get a man to the church, and that it would be the same for every one else he tried. A teacher may be paranoid that his student will fail and the parents will come in. Sometimes our best isn't enough.

I feel that way all the time. i try to be a good friend, but often I can't be, because I can't be what they'd rather have: alone time.

I've realized that wen my friends are paired up, I rather like being quiet and observant, but still laugh and interact when I choose to be. The problem is that my friends worry I'm suddenly sad or angry when I'm not smiling. I must smile too much... They cry or pout or get angry, and never do I pounce on them and tell them to cheer up or fess up what's wrong. If they tell me, I give advice, but otherwise leave them to their sulking.

I probably should feel flattered that they care so much, but it's annoying sometimes. Brett trying to make me laugh when I don't wan to, or Kaylynn and Kaeli trying to understand the situation. I'm sorry to say, but sometimes you'll NEVER understand the situations I'm in. Even if you have an open mind, you'd have to be in my shoes to understand it. Drew and his hugs...they are also a little unnerving. By the time they realize I don't want their comfort, I have to be mean or scary to make them realize.

Friends are wonderful help when you want it, but sometimes there are things you have to do on your own. Not all pain can be mended with the help of others. That is why I admire Buddhists. I just can't do the meditation thing when Dustin is with me. Buddhists are mostly about service and finding enlightenment on their own. There are certain things in life only you can achieve or fix in yourself. (Like finding a boyfriend on your own or finding spiritual peace).

I need to do more of this. People (mom and dad) tell me to study and find my spiritituality on my own, but I don't want to. When it becomes important, I will, but not now. I think that is why I've had trouble with churches in general. They push for group things or gospel or something to be learned NOW and that you should believe it. I, myself, do not like being pushed like that. I feel obligated and hollow when I am. I don't learn anything; just remember empty stories.

It's moments like this when I really learn things because I wrote it out or pondered it, or read it in a book. Same thing goes for some emotional conflict or an odd situation. You can't truly learn unless you solved it yourself. When Kaylynn hurt herself, I was worried, but I also understood. The thing is, at first I tried to help her and solve her problem, but there wasn't anything I, as the friend, could do. I had to let it go and see how she dealt with it, only offering kind words when she looked in my direction. I helped to hide her wounds, knowing full well what that kind of attention was like, and how much I loathed it. There is only so much I can do to help someone, and oten times, there is only so much they can do for me.

I've written about society before, and now my grandfather wishes to speak with me about that. Never again. Frankly, I am pretty bad at keeping things to myself. I have a need to express my opinion, much like my father in some ways. I have a mission to set myself apart from others. No longer. This journal is for a reason, and one alone: To keep secrecy from spilling out again. To let out my emotions is to basically let out my secrets, but I can't do that to a person so long as I live in this world and this century. Even out of state, there will be people (many o them) who won't understand things I do. I am one of those people who has the potential to look at every aspect of life. There isn't very many people like me int he world, and only one exactly like me.

Me.

So when a friend asks me what is wrong, I have to tell myself that they just don't understand, and that if I give them simple answer, they'll be satisfied. It can be a lonely world, despite the billions that inhabit it. True characters have the advantage I do when it comes to my interaction with people or with thoughts. I cannot insert myself into a story, but I can insert what I've learned and open eyes to those daring enough to read me.

There is always someone who will pick up my work and turn the page, and when they do, they'll learn something they didn't know about life.

High School

I've contemplated sitting here and typing out every little detail about my first day of High School, but I know I can't do it because I'll get bored. Also, it'll bore others as well. Besides, I already relayed the basics to everyone who has asked me, and I don't feel a need to tell the internet world the same thing. So, shall we delve into some deeper thoughts?

I haven't typed out a blog posts in a long long time because I've been without computer for a long long time. Or at least, it feels long to me, and it'll feel longer when I get assignments that need to be done on the computer. Basically what I've been doing is writing in a journal because I don't have access to my blog every day. I realize that I can put more personal things in my journal than I can on my blog, but I still love my blog and I still want to type, so sometime I'll relay what I've written in the past few days so you all can know what I've been thinking about or going through. Not that any of you care :P

I deleted my goodreads account so I don't get distracted this year, because homework is going to be a big thing. I've realized that the work is going to be very very hard and long and I'll have to work my butt off doing it. I've also realized that High School is going to be very very difficult. Firstly, because I know that getting through those crowded hallways are going to be a nightmare. Secondly, I know that there's only so much time to spend with friends before the bus comes or before lunch ends. Thirdly, the teachers are kickass hilarious, but I know they'll be dumping work on me, and my poor backpack probably won't be able to hold together by the time school ends.

It all sounds so redundant and obnoxious and I know I'm spurring "I hate school" feelings within you, but it's all worth it in the end. I'll work my hardest in learning and keeping up because I want to do well and get into college, and in college, I'll do the same thing, not only because I paid for it, but because I want to learn. To have a good career is one of my biggest dreams. To be a famous writer with a lot of background knowledge so I can write about anything is my BIGGEST dream EVER. The idea of being known all over the world is exciting and gives me an adrenaline rush, and because I want it, I'll get it. That's the difference between me and other people who go to school. They complain about it and they don't know what they want in life yet. I complain too, but to a much lesser extent, and most of the time it is halfhearted. I know what I want, and I know what classes to take and what to do to get there. I know a lot of people who don't have a clue, or their dream sounds pretty insecure coming from their lips.

Today in PE, Mr. Anderson had everyone stand in front of the class and share something about ourselves.

I stood up and said in my loudest, most excited voice, "I'm going to be famous, so look for me on the shelves at your local bookstore. The name's Mindy. Mindy Christen, or it may be known as M. T. Christen."

That was it. That was all I needed to spur excitement from particularly bubbly cheerleaders into asking me what I write and what I've written. I already have a novel. How many teenagers do you know that's written a novel?

It's this kind of attitude that will get me places I want to go. Not many have it, and it saddens me to hear it or see it. Some kids slump around school, complaining about the ache in their shoulders, and they slack off. Where are they going? No one knows, not even them. So why won't they figure something out and pursue it? Because they're busy living in the now and socializing with their friends. It's okay to do that, but it's not okay to think of school as a bother and not do anything for your future. It's your career and your future that will live on the longest in your memory, not your crappy teenage years. That career feeds your children, who will be your future in the long run.

But not many people realize this.

That's why you're not a writer unless you have a message. I have so many messages to share, and I'll share the gist of them all with you right here on this blog. If you didn't like this post, then go somewhere else, because this girl has an opinion, and she's not afraid to shout it out to the world.

***

August 10th, 2011

School is definitely inching its way towards me. I am simply stating this fact, because I am quite aware of my empty closet and the backpack that has huge holes. I have no money, Carol hasn't texted me in a long time, and i fear that Sissie and Talon have forgotten me. That said, the computer problem arises as well. Our computer broke somehow. I have a look of utter in-amusement as I write this. I finally got a library card yesterday and received internet permission, but I'm limited to an hour daily. In that hour, I type frantically, hoping to get my chapter out on the internet.

Frankly, I loathe the library because of that lone hour I get, but it's my only chance to write and type and roleplay. They should give me unlimited time, because I don't like walking a few miles everyday for one hour when I can use Dad's laptop upstairs. Whatever. Life is never fair.

Regarding that phrase: There are good things that come in life. One is my talent to write. Sometimes possessing that talent results in writer's block, aggravating computer problems, and possible mechanic pencil failures or cramping hand muscles. I'm sure I'm not the only person delayed this way.

School is a major concern for me. Everyday I get to walk three miles to the bus stop, walk around school, and every other day endure fitness. I get to be bombarded in never-ending homework and projects. I won't have the time I do during the summer to read and write. That is why I am plowing through books as quick as I can. I finished Forever Odd in 10 hours straight. Yes, I am insane. My only hope is that for the first few weeks of school, I won't have any major need for a computer.

It sucks to be poor sometimes, but mind you, it's better than being rich.

I am the only way my friends can hang out with each other and kiss while fifteen, and I always will be until they turn sixteen, because that's what living in a mormon community does to you. I've sacrificed a lot for them, and regrettably, I'll continue to.

My life isn't a sappy teenage drama. It's pretty simple and boring for the most part, and I think whoever controls this "bootcamp" life knew that. That's why I've been granted the task to write. I'll excite my life with stories simply because my life has no story. I'm a fifteen year old girl with a huge dream and a small pad of paper. I complain because I can, but I don't mean to complain to the point of annoying someone. It's probably why I don't talk back to my parents often, or why I don't beg after being told no once. I'm limited and restricted, and I know those obstacles in my path, so I walk around it and make do with what I have. How many clothes do you suppose I can buy with twenty dollers? If only five shirts, then I'll find many ways to wear those shirts. I'm beginning to realize that I don't need a classy wardrobe anyway. Just pants and a tee shirt, and my pretty face.

I'll probably type up sections of this journal and put them up on my blog. Including this one, I hope my posts or my words will impact someone, somehow. When they do, if they do, I'll feel like a better person inside. Until then, I'm taking Almond's advice.

I don't need to prove tot he world that I'm not Mormon. I don't have to waste my breath explaining to an immovable person. It's my business, and I don't give a shit who cares or not. I'll keep it to myself, I'll tolerate and respect others, and I'll continue on without so much as a glance or a wound. Religion isn't a priority, and it isn't as important as education and comfort is. I'm no missionary, and I won't ever be.

While I'm on this rant, I might as well add that I am okay. I'm not depressed, but I do sadden. I am content, but I'm not completely comfortable. I want to be bothered, but not distressed. I'd rather not care about how I look, though it is habit. There is food around an din my stomach, though it may not seem like much. I can stand and walk, I can take care of myself.

I am smart, healthy, and clean. That's all I can ask for. I complain, I sadden, and I get angry, but they don't last long. I realize that is the same for everyone else, and that is what makes me unique.

You either get it, or you don't.