There is a girl from Denmark called Cornelia, and she is lovely. Cornelia has blue eyes and strawberry hair. She came to the USA last year as an exchange student. Backstage, before a theatre performance, Cornelia told me all the things most exciting and surprising about America: hot Cheetos! She shined at the mention of dating and boisterous, bubbly teenagers. Prom and milkshakes and varsity jackets; football and parties and pancakes; big tests and big mouths and big dreams. In fact, she has a whole YouTube video on her exchange student experience - you can watch it here . I've been thinking a lot about the stereotypical high school experience, media portrayals of the same, and how they compare to my own. There are glaring stadium lights, paper airplanes. I picture Sam and Patrick and Charlie having a late-night meal at Kings, and Lady Bird, emotional, in a Sacramento car. Cassette tapes. There are Heathers (the movie) and Heather (Conan Gray). Boxed wine, cheap beer. It's all...
My dad says my blog posts are morbidly depressing, so let's make this one decidedly... not. This year, I made a solid $4.21 on Redbubble. Someone bought a phone case I designed. T'was a turtle in a puddle, holding an umbrella. It definitely sang of spring-time. I definitely drew that in five minutes before dinner. But hey, someone bought it! By someone, I mean my friend, Austyn. Knee dislocation by sneezing. I did that. Twice. A genuine feat of nature. My school started to incorporate more diverse books into English curriculum - right now, we're reading Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates. Though I'm not impressed by the effort being put into teaching these books (see my rant from early December), I'm happy they're there. It's a start. Abby got into an amazing youth apprenticeship program; she'll probably go in for construction management, and I'm so proud of her. Outside my window at our new house, I have my very own Snow Queen and a who...
Dear friend, The Perks of Being a Wallflower is everything . I thought we'd start there. On November 17, 2017, I posted my first words on The Avocado and Me . I was barely fourteen-years-old; about six months from now, I'll be eighteen. There are some things I think you should know. First and foremost, I don't actually like avocados very much. I've had avocado toast maybe five times, and it's good, but it has never been and will never be my favorite. Semi-burnt toast with butter and blueberry jam, yes. The name just sounded nice at the time. Secondly. I am not proud of and will not reread much of what I've written here. Some of it makes me feel ashamed. This has been both a burial ground and a garden -- all of it hurts, a little. I am so grateful you are here, but know your presence is also deeply uncomfortable. I write what I feel incapable of voicing. When I write, I do not imagine you on the other end. It is strange to have people so close to the core of wh...
Comments
Post a Comment