tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-236866192024-03-07T13:45:34.745-05:00Somewhere Under the RainbowAmberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-44309434563986176432010-12-07T22:23:00.003-05:002010-12-07T22:46:30.147-05:00Do You Remember?Every day, someone dies. Several someones, in fact. A mother. A father. A sister, brother, cousin, aunt, uncle, grandpa, grandma, daughter, son. A baby. A senior citizen. A new bride. A high school student. A drug dealer. They all disappear, Houdini's final trick.<div><br /><div>It happens all the time, and yet when it happens close to us, we panic. We freak. We say, Oh my God, how could it happen to THEM? But we don't even realize that right now, at this very moment, the same thing is happening in about a hundred other places all across the country, even more across the whole planet. Our perspective is skewed by our juxtaposition to the event. But is that such a bad thing?</div><div><br /></div><div>I recently lost my paternal grandmother. I purposely didn't share this information with most people, people at school, various extended family members, etc. because I didn't want to have them do the same thing that we all do: Oh my God, how terrible! on the surface; but secretly, Wow glad it wasn't me. I didn't want to give them that satisfaction, that little moment of instinctual gloating. It seemed so disgraceful to me, so barbaric. But then I thought about it in the context of my previous statements: they only reacted that way because they didn't think about things in a universal sense. They saw what happened to someone near them and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't them, they didn't have to deal with it. They ignored the inevitable for one more day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess my point is not quite brought across in that last paragraph, so let me make it more clear: the fact that things happen all over the globe shouldn't belittle our feelings when it happens to us. Who knows how many other grandmothers died the same day as mine, but that doesn't mean that I should push aside my feelings and avoid sharing my pain with others. Certainly, their reaction is the typical ingrained human kind, but that doesn't make it any less genuine. </div><div><br /></div><div>I still don't talk about my grandmother, or my maternal grandfather, or my uncle, or my great-aunt, or my great-grandfather, or my dad's best friend. I don't talk about the people that I've lost, because I still feel like it's something that others don't deserve to gloat about. And I suppose I also feel guilty sharing it. But I often remember what few snapshots and smiles I had with them. And I find that that's talk enough for me.</div></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-7610141588114247802010-12-05T12:15:00.002-05:002010-12-05T12:25:33.684-05:00Ramblin WriterWell, I suppose I should try to update this more than once a year, eh? Of course, on the other hand, nobody reads it but me, so I'll just update whenever I feel like reading something from myself. <div>I thought about deleting some of my older posts, when I first got on here. The very first few, for example. They're absolutely rotten and so riddled with teen angst they're practically a chapter of Twilight. (Oh! Humor! That's new!) But then I realized that each of those posts is a little piece of me. A dreadful, horribly written, self-loating piece of me. </div><div>I think we try to delete pieces of ourselves as we go through life. We look back at a certain time or action and we think "Ugh, how terrible! I'll just forget about that." But the problem is that when we start deleting parts of ourselves like that, after a while we start to repeat those actions or attitudes. We forget about the consequences, we forget that we even did it, and then suddenly we're doing it again and we go "Shit. Been here, done this. Idiot."</div><div>The truth is, the more little pieces of ourselves we get rid of, the more of the whole of ourselves we're deteriorating. There comes a point where we have to just embrace ourselves, past, present, and future as a whole. Take in all the mistakes we've made, and hope we can apply what we've learned in future situations. Because after all, isn't that what life's about? Making mistakes. Learning to love yourself. Enjoying the ride.</div><div>Well, this is a short post, but I'm going to be trying to update more frequently (I'm pretty sure I've said that before), and hopefully that will be easier if I can get my hands on that Blackberry Curve I've been eyeing. Fingers crossed!</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-48381178161139279742010-09-14T20:59:00.002-04:002010-09-14T21:26:02.271-04:00Speaking of Chatting...I was hanging out with a friend of mine today and she commented on the fact that she likes to hang out with me because of the steady stream of talking I tend to keep up. I didn't take offense, because I know that I talk a lot, especially when I'm around my friends. It did get me to thinking about talking, though. <div>I learned to talk, my mother tells me, well before my second birthday, and didn't stop until I was probably 12. Then I went through a phase where I barely talked to anyone but the few friends I had at school. I became introverted and isolated, on purpose really, because I had a low self-esteem. I still have self-esteem issues, but nothing horrible. But all this leads up to the fact that there was a point in my life where I learned more than talking.</div><div>There was a certain point, and I think it was when I was in Greece this past summer, where I learned to do more than talk. I learned to converse and be at ease with people in what I said. I stopped worrying so much what people thought about me and just enjoyed the back and forth of a fun conversation. It was almost non-stop through the trip, and I found myself always coming up with new things to talk about. </div><div>It's a trait that has continued into my every-day life now. I find that if someone says the right thing and is willing to chat, I will go on forever. And I love it. It doesn't bother me a bit. I don't feel self-conscious or awkward at all. It's a glorious feeling, my friends. </div><div>Now I've got to put it to good use tomorrow with the tire boy ;-].</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-81420547752489730862010-09-08T12:15:00.003-04:002010-09-08T12:21:12.326-04:00On a Gloomy DayI'm feeling very indie and light today, despite my lack of sleep, and so I decided to share a good poem I read today. It's not the happiest of poems, but I like the imagery it provides.<div><br /></div><div>Acquainted with the Night</div><div>Robert Frost</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been one acquainted with the night.</div><div>I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.</div><div>I have outwalked the furthest city light.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have looked down the saddest city lane. </div><div>I have passed by the watchman on his beat</div><div>And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet</div><div>When far away an interrupted cry</div><div>Came over houses from another street,</div><div><br /></div><div>But not to call me back or say good-by; </div><div>And further still at an unearthly height</div><div>One luminary clock against the sky</div><div><br /></div><div>Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.</div><div>I have been one acquainted with the night.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-61929679038408737302010-09-03T12:19:00.002-04:002010-09-03T12:30:59.158-04:00Sunshine on a Cloudy DayI noticed that my last few posts have been rather dark, or gray, in subject matter, and since today is a particularly cloudy day as it is, I thought I would brighten the mood with some light chit-chat. Unfortunately, I haven't much to chat about. I'm sitting alone in a coffee shop waiting for my next class to start. But it's an interesting people-watching moment: <div>A mother with two children and a laptop sits by the fireplace, where usually an artificial fire would be glowing and dancing in the shadows. She reprimands her toddler with a gentle voice and goes back to her screen. People filter in and out like grains of sand through a sieve. A woman to the left and behind me has been here longer than I, hard at work on her middle-aged degree, no doubt laboring for children unseen or a family in turmoil. Another woman, farther left, in a black dress with brightly colored stitching that is far younger than she, works eagerly on her computer. I can see energy in every movement she makes, an eagerness that is not to be taken lightly. Surely she has an important job.</div><div>The man in front of me is interesting as well. He is wearing a shirt advertising a youth program, subtle but eye-catching. The book he is reading is orange and looks to be non-fiction, perhaps a self-help or philosophy. They are all middle-aged, respectable-looking people. I feel out of place, a teenager in a grown-up world. </div><div>The man in front of me surprises me by apologizing for his phone conversation, which I hadn't noticed in the first place, and leaving to make his further calls. His politeness is astonishing in a world where we are subjected to constant rudeness and inconsiderate behavior. </div><div>These people are gathered around me, and although I do not know their names, where they come from, what they like or dislike...I still feel as if I know them. There is a quality about them and me, about this place, that knits us together and makes us forget our regular lives. A feeling of warmth and comraderey that we seem to have forgotten in our world.</div><div>And to think, it's only just a coffee shop.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-73028907360616136402010-08-31T23:58:00.002-04:002010-09-01T00:09:39.688-04:00It's Just Not RationalI was in class today, and my professor was talking about the Holocaust. In particular, he was talking about the wife of one of the men in charge of Auschwitz. He said that the wife had claimed that she knew nothing about what was going on, and had no idea of what her husband was in charge of. He wondered how on earth you could be unaware of this, and came to the conclusion that there is simply a part of women that is irrational.<div>I started thinking about this after I left the class, and I think maybe he's right and wrong at the same time. Women do have their irrational sides, but then again, everyone does. And how can we judge what is rational for one person or another? It's all based on our own personal world view, and perhaps there are a few other people out there who share our views, but all in all, it comes down to just what we think. So really, rationality is all relative.</div><div>Another thought occurred to me, in the same string. Perhaps that wife of that German officer was not irrational. In fact, perhaps she was completely rational, in her own way. She probably knew what was going on, for as my professor pointed out, how could you not, but she was probably ignoring it as best she could. Think about it: she has been married to this man for some undisclosed amount of time, most likely a few years at least; she has known him and loved him and seen all sides of him, or so she thinks; then, suddenly, she discovers that he has been doing the most horrible things to people, that he has become the devil to someone else's nightmare, and what is she supposed to do? Leave him? She probably still loves him. Tear her hair out? Go insane? Throw herself on a gun? She could only do the thing that seemed most rational to her: ignore it and try to move on with her life.</div><div>I'm not saying that this is for sure what she did, because obviously no one but her really knows, but this is where I'll put my money for the time being. Because really, we all do that. When there is a situation that is totally out of our control and that we know we can't deal with, we do what comes naturally, and possibly rationally, to us, and ignore it. It might not be what everyone else thinks is "rational" but then again they're in a whole different set of shoes, so they can't really pass judgement. Although, God love em, they will try. After all, we're only human.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-55703748310227960412010-08-29T20:07:00.004-04:002010-08-29T20:23:42.993-04:00Paging Doctor Life?Several years ago - so long ago it seems like a past life - I broke my wrist playing games at recess. As I sat with my mother in the hospital, my mind began to go over all the horror stories I'd heard about bones growing back improperly and doctors having to re-break them. Oh the pain and torture that must have been! Luckily it was a hairline fracture and healed up perfectly.<div>Now, however, as I'm getting older, I realize that re-breaking is something that might not be so horrible after all. In fact, it's downright good for us. And I'm not talking about just bones here. What about all the heartbreaks? All the emotional trauma we go through in life. When our heart is broken, it often cannot heal properly, and we are left bitter and confused and angry. Wouldn't it serve to reason, then, that our heart should be re-broken in order for it to heal, properly, a second time?</div><div>I know that I've had a small taste of heartbreak and heart ache, certainly not enough to warrant a doctor visit yet, but I've observed it in other people, and I'm beginning to think that re-breaking is the path to healing for some. I've heard plenty of friends who've just been through break-ups talk about how much it hurts and how they'll never find anything better. Then a few months later, after they've been sufficiently bittered and angered against the world, someone else comes along and hurts them. Only this time, the aftermath is a lesson rather than a self pity party. </div><div>But it can be different things for different people: a death, rejection, alienation, even something as simple as ruining a favorite piece of clothing. It happens, and suddenly your world is rocked and you realize what mistakes you have been making, how much of your life you have been wasting in bitterness and resentment. </div><div>So let's just say that when it comes to emotional hurts and broken hearts, I can only hope that if you can't heal properly, Dr. Life comes along to break you again and give you a fresh start.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-89607784284978492762010-08-06T23:33:00.002-04:002010-08-06T23:43:26.783-04:00I Can Hear Clearly NowI recently paid a visit to my doctor that inspired an idea in me. She suggested using something like a favorite TV show or audiobook as incentive for exercising. Hmm...audiobook, eh? That certainly appeals. I like reading but I don't like working out...why not combine the two?<div>But wait a minute, audiobooks are usually completely against my book morals. Why be lazy and listen when you can make the effort and read? It just doesn't make sense, and since I'm in the business of disciplining myself, I couldn't see much of an option. </div><div>And then! A loophole! There are hundreds of books out there that I would love to read but I just don't have the time or money to collect all of them when I'm not even sure I'll be able to get through them. So why not listen to them? It'd be about the same thing, and allow me to multitask as well as encourage myself in my weight-loss goals. Perfect!</div><div>And may I just say how well it's worked so far. I've downloaded Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. I'm limiting myself to specifically books that I'm interested in, but would never be able to get through reading on my own. So far, I'm on chapter 3 of Eat Pray Love and I'm dying for more. But by forcing myself to wait for it, I'm actually trying to come up with more ways that I can work out. It's a fantastic incentive, and I can't believe that I've never considered it before. I'm hoping this can only be a good thing for my life.</div><div>So when someone says, "Can you hear me now?" my automatic response will be "Only if you're reading to me!"</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-22382469535794652112010-08-04T23:03:00.002-04:002010-08-04T23:16:42.045-04:00Something Old, Something Blue<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Today, a good friend of mine and I perused the local antiques store, and let me tell you, I'll probably be spending my next paycheck there. I love the vintage, aged feel of all the stuff there. How you can tell that it was something somebody loved and wanted, something somebody used and passed on. It's also a great way to just recycle beautiful treasures that would otherwise end up in the dump.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My initial intent on going there was to get a typewriter. I've been dying to plunk away on a typewriter for several weeks now, and I was at my wits end waiting to get enough time to go and find one. I had seen the absolute perfect one at the antique store, a little brown portable one with extra ribbon and a manual for only $25. I'm now kicking myself for not getting it. However, I did find one, a rather nice Underwood with the classic round keys and manual bar. I am falling in love with it, although I need to get some more ribbon for it asap. It was a good buy at only $15 because part of the slide bar was broken, although that in no way affects it's typing. So now I can live out my little vision of staying up late at night, click-clacking away at the typewriter with a single light on and soft jazz playing in the background, a hot cup of tea at my side and my glasses pushed up on my nose...ah. Heaven.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My other find at the store actually came before I had even decided on the typewriter. On a whim, I dove in between the clothing racks to look at the purses. I ran into a horrid navy blue satchel with faux-snake rope accents and a tassel zipper; blech. Next came a brown kiss-clasped little bag with a mighty high price tag for such a simple piece. But after that, third time's the charm: there it was, a blue little bag with a slip clasp and white sides and handles, the blue a faux woven pattern. Dread filled me, however, as I opened the bag to assess the lining damage. To my surprise, it was beautiful. Not a stain or tear in sight. And only $10! How on earth could such a beautiful little bag go for so cheap? I wasn't about to question. Instead I held on to it for dear life until I could get to the cash register. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So, I've got a bit of advice for you in this: be sure to stop at the antiques store next time you're in town. You never know what vintage deal will be waiting for you. And always remember, one girl's junk is another girl's summer purse.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-62468549291995327472010-08-01T21:01:00.002-04:002010-08-01T21:22:11.943-04:00The Inspiration Never Stops<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Well first off, let me just share that the almost-kitten-heel is a total sham. Give me a solid 2 and 1/2 any day, just keep that low-riding bull away from me. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The main topic here today, however, is the recent explosion of fashion-related inspiration I've been having. And it's all stemming from music. I listen to a song and suddenly there's a whimsical waif of a girl floating around in my mind in a very specific dress and atmosphere. I've successfully executed 4 of these visions and I have about 3 or 4 more to go. My only frustration now is that I don't have the seamstress skills to bring these creations to life. So if anybody knows someone who likes to sew and wants to make clothes but lacks the entire imagination, let me know. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>This also brings up my other recent obsession: Vogue. I am absolutely obsessed with it. It's fascinatingly creative, it keeps my addiction to fashion rolling, and also gives me some cultural enhancement that I can't get around here. I tried that with Elle but it was just too sporadic in it's layout and articles. It couldn't keep me focused. Vogue keeps me focused as well as deliciously satisfied. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My new obsession has gotten me to thinking about my future. What about writing for a magazine? Why couldn't I do it? I could do it and live the life of independence I want, but also have that freedom of creativity (to an extent) at work. I highly doubt that my current University offers anything in that field, simply because it's Murphy's law that I want it and they don't have it, but maybe that's a good thing. If it's something that I've decided I want for sure, then I'm more likely to really push my own limits to get it. Let's just hope that it all works out soon, because I'm not getting any younger and I'm eager to start my career. Until then, I'm just going to keep making my choices and plugging along.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-26317948800936700722010-07-28T22:56:00.002-04:002010-07-28T23:05:33.381-04:00I'm Plum Outta AnswersI'm going through this phase in my clothing and accessory purchasing. It's a purple phase. I'm in love with plums, berries, grapes, lavenders, if it even says purple in the name, I like it. I'm not sure where this came from, but I'm excited to start pairing them up with some gorgeous oranges and blues. Green is always good, but I can't seem to find any green around here that I can stand. Most of it reminds me of what I found in my cousin's daughter's diaper when I was babysitting one time.<br />However, according to Vogue, the big fall trend is supposed to be black, red, and white graphic print. That might be what's hot on the runway, but for every day street wear, it's my personal belief that women will be looking to jewel tones for fall refreshers. Deep emeralds, brilliant rubies, even the occasional yellow diamond. It's all there, on display at the local boutique, and even some in my closet.<br />There's another trend that's coming back full-force that absolutely thrills me to no end: 1950's glamour. I see it everywhere, and even the 40's are seeping in. It makes me want to get a credit card just for the dresses and pumps alone.<br />The one trend that I'm not a fan of, however, is the kitten heel. Come on, ladies. Have we really stooped that low that we can't pull of a comfortable 2 inch? Besides, what's the point of beauty if there isn't a little pain involved? I'm going to try out a semi-kitten heel, however. It's a gorgeous pair of peep-toe mixed materials in red that I got, and the heel is no more than an inch, but just low enough to be mistaken for a kitten. If it wasn't for the red crocodile, I don't think they would have made the cut. I'll be leaving a report as soon as possible. Until then, don't be afraid to get a little purple with it.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-58283702500516757262010-07-24T14:33:00.002-04:002010-07-24T14:46:39.821-04:00And So It Goes...Well, freshman year of college has come and gone, and sophomore year is fast approaching. I am to enter this coming school year with a bittersweet attitude. I can't find my little corner of school, my little pocket of ability. I seem to know for the most part what I want out of a career. But there's nothing here to give it to me. Ah well, enough of the b*tching. <div>Traveling is fantastic. I think I could really be happy just flying all over the world and seeing the sights. I can't wait to go back to Paris. I can't wait to get to Egypt and Rome and Florence and Madrid and London and Moscow... I know how to get there too, I think. I just need a successful career in magazines or fashion or reporting. Let me at it! </div><div>This new job I've got will really be giving me a leg up, too, I think. I mean, City Hall? That looks awesome on any resume. I've just got to get the degree to go with it. Hopefully I can get the job at the college newspaper too, even if it's horrendous. At least it will look good on a resume as well. </div><div>At the end of all this, I'd like to say two things. One, I'm glad I don't have the distraction of a boy right now. Boys around here, they just want to screw girls or get married and have little house cleaning baby machines. I'm not up for either of those last two things at the moment. The second is, I've finally found my style: retro classic mixed with 21st century chic. That's probably the more important of the two. A girl's style is the most important thing she can have, because it never leaves her and it's always a mood pick-me-up. </div><div>So just remember, girls, if the shoe fits, buy it and keep the box for storage.</div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-64319133744074911342009-11-23T18:11:00.001-05:002009-11-23T18:13:57.703-05:00Angels Fall*<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">She was lying on the floor, letting the carpet melt into her skin, trying not to think about his face. Or his smile. Or his vioce. The music thudded around her, the bottles vibrating a little across the bar with each bass beat. A tear she couldn’t stop rolled down her cheek and before she knew it her eyes were wet. Her shoulders shook as she let the flood consumer her. Why couldn’t he see? She’d never done anything but love him. What was the crime in that? She might as well have been invisible to him. What was the point in running this race if you had no one to help you? What was the point? Her drunken mind clung to that question. She used it to drag herself off the floor and across the room to the sliding door. Out onto the balcony. She was 15 stories up. Usually she wouldn’t get a room so far up, but there hadn’t been any others available. She supposed now it came in handy. The cars far below scurried around like rats in a maze. She could imagine the people within them, wrapped in their safe little steel and plastic boxes, not thinking about anyone but themselves. Not knowing that far above them, someone else was losing grip. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">She grabbed the railing of the balcony and pulled herself up, steadying her feet on the brick. The tears hadn’t stopped,making her cheeks slick and hot, and she had no intention of letting them stop. Her vision was blurring and the mascara running down her face was making her eyes burn. But none of it compared to her chest tearing in half. Each beat of her heart made her throat tighten and her skin tingle. It beat so strongly, and oh how she hated it. How she wanted it to cease it’s agonizing rhythm. She was so close now, the cool night breeze tousling her hair and calling her to fly with it.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">She thought again of him, of his face and his wonderfulness. Then she thought of the people in their boxes, and how they would envy her in her freedom. She let go of the railing. If only they knew how it felt to fall.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">*I would like to say, this in no way reflects my current thoughts, feelings, or intentions. Inspiration hit, and this is what I got, so don't worry! Just an exercise in creativity =]</p>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-40576918959099023662009-10-18T16:23:00.002-04:002009-10-18T17:34:44.566-04:00Drive My SoulToday, I decided to take a walk around my yard. It's a tad cold out, for October, but I felt the need to exercise those stumps I call legs.<br />As I walked, and drank my delicious tea, I started to think about human beings. We are such fascinating creatures, as a species, but as individuals we are even more so. If you stop to think about it, every single person on this planet is on a different path than you. There is no one out there who likes every singly thing you like, no one who has done exactly the same things you have done. But all these paths we take are winding and colliding and connecting all the time. Every person that you meet or speak to has had their own path changed because of you. These people who try so hard to be "original" and "unique" don't realize that they were born that way. Every living creature in existence is original and unique.<br />This was the line of thought I was on when I noticed some birds flittering about in the bushes. I stopped to watch them as they moved, and my thoughts took another turn: how intricate and detailed every organism is. The bird I was watching, a spunky little chickadee, was as complex as rocket science. Every little feather made up of little cells made up of more cells, all working together to form a shape that works with other shapes and pieces to make that little bird fly and live. It can make my head ache after a while, but it's an ache well-appreciated. I don't understand how people can look at all that, know all the things that science has explained to us, and not believe in God, in a higher power. There is such wonder in every little thing that lives, such complexity, it had to have been designed by the most careful and loving of hands.<br />All this thinking makes me feel so silly when I get wrapped up in myself and my problems. I shouldn't be so worried. There's a whole universe of worriers out there, though, all doing the same thing as me: running along, trying to get where they think they need to be, not stopping to realize that this life is the only one they're given. I think we should all stop, at least once in a while, and think about how big and amazing this planet is, this universe is, and be grateful that God gave us the life we live. For after all, isn't it life itself that drives the soul?Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-41543644031182214912009-10-03T00:18:00.002-04:002009-10-03T00:25:54.058-04:00Real Life: So It BeginsGoodness, I haven't posted in ages! I feel like I've been neglecting a pet. Well, much has changed for me in the past few months: got a job, quit a job, started college, realized I hate it. That's essentially where I am now.<br />I started college with the best intentions and high hopes. Now here I am, completely miserable and ready to give up entirely. It's been nothing but a nightmare for me since week 1. I think the biggest problem is the program I am in: graphic designer, I am not. I can't live with all these measurements and lines and angles. It's too ordered, too perfect. I need a little chaos in my life. I've discovered that I live on it, it's a huge part of me. There's no point in trying to make everything perfect, it's obviously not going to happen, so why not learn to love the imperfections? Isn't that what makes us all human, all different?<br />I've been trying to decide what to change my major to, and I've so far come up with film studies or creative writing. Good options, no doubt, but I have another problem: I hate it here. I hate the towns, I hate the land, I hate the cars, I hate the dirt, I hate most of the people's rotten attitudes towards one another, I hate the small-mindedness of it all. It makes me so angry I could scream. I just want out!<br />So now I come to the fork in the road: do I stay and make my life in this little podunk nothing of a place? or do I run for it and fly as far as my wings will take me? I think I already know my own answer. Now I just need to get my feathers in order.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-36581637874493451192009-06-04T13:31:00.002-04:002009-06-04T13:54:48.842-04:00Welcome to SummerWell, it's official: summer is here. And want to know how we can tell this? The return of the dreaded main-stream broadcast reality show. You know what I'm talking about. Those reality shows designed to just draw people in with ridiculous amounts of emotion and stupid stunts, not to mention stupid people. Shows that make you want to take up a hobby like building model ships out of toothpicks and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">handkerchiefs</span>. Summer has arrived!<br />But don't worry, I'm here to guide you through the horribly dull waters of summertime TV.<br />Now don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking every single reality show. There are a few out there that pass my tests. One of my favorites is So You Think You Can Dance? The upside of this show: once you get past the bad auditions, there's no such thing as a really bad dance. All you get is professionalism that looks perfect to the average <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">American's</span> untrained eye. The downside? Mary's annoying screeching and robotic laughing. I think anyone would agree that even Paula is better than that nightmare of teeth and noise.<br />There really aren't any other shows that I would recommend for summer <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">viewing</span>. Except reruns. But even those can get a bit frustrating.<br />I'm sure you will notice that I haven't touched upon any of the cable shows premiering for the summer. That is mostly because I don't have cable. Duh.<br />Fox has premiered a new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">prime time</span> drama for the summer called Mental. I've seen one episode of the show and I already don't like it. Shows now are just too <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">over involved</span>. By the second episode there's so much going on with the characters that you practically need a guide to keep up. Not to mention that the first thing they try to do is force a ton of dramatic situations and intense emotional complications right away. What happened to starting out with one story line at a time and allowing them to evolve as the show progressed? I'll tell you what happened to that: people got bored with it in some shows, and so producers <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">immediately</span> assumed that that was the consensus of the general public. And this is why there have been more failed pilots in the last 2 seasons than we've seen in a long time.<br />Well really, there's not a whole lot of TV for your average non-cable owning American to look forward to this summer. My suggestion? Use your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">internet</span> to your best advantage: catch up on the good shows you've been missing out on with some nice <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">internet</span> resources. Find out what's been happening on with Nancy on Weeds or what those crazy boys of Rescue Me have been up to. And if all else fails...read a book!Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-4474568682228596532009-05-25T23:19:00.002-04:002009-05-25T23:33:07.380-04:00I'm Still Breathing...Hello, people who don't read this!<br />I am, in fact, still alive, despite the rumors. I have been so incredibly busy in the last...oh 12 months or so, that I completely forgot that I even had a blog! Trust me that won't happen again (fingers crossed). Besides, I now have the option of mobile updates...I might be looking into that, but I don't think I would have enough space in my textbox!<br />Well, quite a bit has obviously happened in a year, but not anything particularly significant. I did come to a few realizations that I would like to point out, however.<br />Firstly, I am so incredibly sick of the pettiness that rules society, I'm about to just yell at everyone. Some of my friends have their own little group of people that I got sucked into somehow, and they just constantly find different reasons to fight with each other over nothing. I just want to smack them all and say, wake up and smell the logic!<br />The next realization is that nothing lasts forever, and there's no reason to cry about that. The end.<br />My third realization is more of an acknowledgment since I've already known about it for a while: I have to move. I have to get out of this little one-horse town and chase the crazy-ass dreams I've had since I was a kid. There's no getting around it, it has to happen. Because my previous realization brought around the fact that if I don't run now, I'll never get the chance again. I don't want to end up stuck somewhere and unhappy for the rest of my life because I didn't do what I needed to. I've only got one life to live and I'll be damned if I let anything get in my way.<br />I feel so much better now that I have that off my chest. For now, I will be staying put, but only to build the necessary transport into my future. It is going to be as temporary as I can make it. I will not put down any more emotional roots than I already have, and I won't be pulling the ones I've already created, because you always need that network of love to fall back on.<br />But believe me when I say this: I'm bustin loose, I'm leavin this place.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-40215221213658073602008-05-11T00:22:00.002-04:002008-05-11T00:24:03.957-04:00UpdateJust so my reader knows, I've pretty much given up on finding love/romance/fooling around for the time being. Every time I get close or feel something, something happens to ruin it all. So I'm hopeless, for now. But someday my knight in shining whatever will come.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-74404758008842879112008-04-12T10:30:00.003-04:002008-04-12T10:47:36.799-04:00Life, Love, and the Turbulence Therein<span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Life can be a funny thing. Some times it's really great and you don't know how it got that way, but you love it anyhow. Other times, you're so confused and frustrated that you begin to wonder if there's any point to it all. But no matter what, you have to keep on living. Because the moment you give up on life is the moment that you betray yourself. I have come to learn this through so many not so wonderful experiences that can really break you down. But I've also learned that the key to surviving these experiences is to feel what you feel at that moment, in that time, and then just let it go and keep moving. That's really all you can do, because holding on to anger and hate and emotions of the like does nothing but give you a sour expression and constapation. Trust me, I've seen it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">There's another funny thing that goes along with life. It's called love. I don't know a whole lot about true or even fleeting love firsthand, but there is one love that I know plenty about. It's unrequited, or unreturned, love. That's the sucky kind. I've been there and done that. There are only three guys I've ever really fallen for. The first is one whom, I still believe to this day, was probably my best match. But right at the exact moment when I was going to drop my guard and bear all, he pulled out a dagger and unknowingly sliced my heart open: he told me he was in love with my friend. Ouch. They're still together, and if he ever by any slim chance decided to dump her and ask me out, I'd accept without question. </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">The second guy was an almost identical situation. I'd known him for a while, and had some strong feelings that I decided must be for him. I was thiiiiis close to once again expressing myself when he told me alll about this girl he really liked. Ouch for the second time. But, I later realized that us being an item wouldn't have worked so well. We were just too close as friends. </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">The third guy was actually more of a case of severe lust than love. He was amazing, gorgeous, sexy, the best-looking guy I'd ever seen in real life. We didn't talk a whole lot, but whenever we did, I'd get so nervous that I would just clam up and say almost nothing. Yay for me. However, I entertained thoughts of us dating, and it was a pleasant time for me, regardless of my lack of social charisma. That is, it was pleasant until I saw him making out with another girl. That was dream-crushing at it's finest. After a while, I decided that he and I wouldn't have worked out either. Such is life. </span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">So now I'm wondering, was that it? Was that my 'three times the charm'?It's hard to tell what the rules are on the three times thing. Does it only count if you actually dated? Did you have to be engaged? Or is it very possibly just some stupid phrase that you should ignore? Who knows. One such as me can only hope that love has not yet given up on this quiet soul. For that indeed would be a tragedy of life.</span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-71142486200031218102008-04-01T13:12:00.000-04:002008-04-01T13:14:03.817-04:00RaindropFallen star<br />Child of the night<br />Lover of the sky<br />Shard of broken hearts<br />Hiding tears<br />Blood scourer<br />Come, let me be freeAmberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-63622550812394151742008-03-27T22:35:00.004-04:002008-03-27T22:53:03.038-04:00Art, Redefined<div align="left"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">I have come to the personal realization that whatever you do that you love is art.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">I always considered myself an amateur artist, since I do my best to express myself through writing. I have dabbled in painting and drawing a bit, but I'm not as talented as I'd like to be, so I stick to writing. For the longest time I considered this to be true art, and that it was, indeed, the ONLY art. I was also under the impression that not everyone was artistic. How very very wrong I have been, for art is all around me, and everyone has the talent for it.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">My mom loves to quilt. Now, given, this is basically already considered an art form. But when you sit down and look at all that she does, it's truly amazing. In the case of a hand-made quilt, every single stitch is laid out with such careful precision that it makes me antsy just watching. Those women who quilt are most nearly the most patient women in the world. Hats off to you.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">My father, on the other hand, loves to hunt and fish. Now, silly me, I always thought that this was just some random little hobby. How wrong I was. When you sit down with someone like my dad, someone who really, truly knows and loves what he's talking about, you learn that fishing is, in fact, an art form. In it's own way, that is. I was talking with him tonight and somehow the conversation turned to fishing. He started out telling me what an idiot my cousin was, and in the process he let me in on some of the little tips he had learned. For example, a spoon that flops back and forth is less effective than the ones that spin when you reel. And don't worry if you didn't understand that, it's not common knowledge. My point is that to him, it's not just throwing the line and catching the fish. For him, it's all about figuring out what the fish like and don't like; finding out where they bed, what kind of weather they like, what lures are more effective and what times of day are better to go out. The effort that he puts into it astounds me.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">It is because of this that I have come to realize that art is no longer confined to merely writing, painting, dancing, acting. Art has now reached across the world and become a universal word. Well, it has to me anyway. Art is no longer the aforementioned acts. Now it is simply what you love and what you do. Art is, essentially, you. It is your expression of your self.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Art is the soul.</span></div><div align="left"></div>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-73359611644683107932008-02-24T01:30:00.002-05:002008-02-24T01:48:44.337-05:00No AirThere's a song by Jordin Sparks called 'No Air', and my favorite part of it goes like this:<br /><br />But how do you expect me<br />To live alone with just me<br /><br />Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air<br />Can't live, can't breathe with no air<br /><br />If I had a dollar for every time I felt this way, I'd be able to pay my way to college, no sweat.<br />The fact is, I feel somewhat like I've lived half my life with no air. I consider myself to be a creative soul, someone who appreciates good writing and art, and living where I do, I feel very deprived of the latter. This area is devoid of most types of cultured living, and the majority of it's residents don't seem to mind. Except for this one.<br />I have that inexplicable desire to run away and live in a sleepy little hamlet in France, or go to New York and learn to appraise art. I want so much more than what I have here, but I don't know how to get it.<br />Don't get me wrong, I have a wonderful life. I know that, and I am extremely grateful for it, but when I look into the future, there is this frighteningly real image of me being 27, married to some guy, with 3 kids and no real life. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, not at all, but I just don't want that for me. I want a chance to live my own life before I devote it to someone else.<br />But I also don't want to live my life alone. I've been alone for my whole life, in a way that most people aren't. I've never had that bond of brother- or sister-hood, never had that friend who was so close that they were practically a sibling. Hell, I've never even had a pet that close. I've found a few people now who are amazing at making me feel not alone (holla my hoho), but at the end of the day there's still that sickening, gnawing feeling that I will have to wake up tomorrow and face the world entirely alone. I'm ready for that to change.<br />I guess all that I'm saying here is that I'm feeling particularly trapped right now. I feel that I'm drowning in this place I've called home, but I'm so afraid to leave that I'm paralyzed. I have the life support, but I need to unplug it. I need to breathe.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-69225181438344053962008-02-11T00:27:00.000-05:002008-02-11T00:48:58.657-05:00Actors<span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">I have just spent the last hour or so watching videos of Robin Williams, Matt Damon, and Angelina Jolie in interviews, and when I got on here I didn't really know what to talk about until I realized my subject had been rolling across my computer screen most of the day: actors. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">I will first say that I love movies. The concept of taking an idea, a mental image and transforming it into real, live actions that can be shared with the world absolutely fascinates me. I also love actors, and would love to have their lives. I don't think people realize what a true actor is anymore. They see half-assed acting done by such disasters as Sylvester Stallone or Ashley Tisdale and think, "Wow! What a great actor!" simply because that is what society and media has told them to think. Meanwhile, true actors like Christian Bale, Kate Winslet, and Matt Damon recieve only hlaf or less of the recognition they truly deserve. The reason they are true actors is not a hard one to process or recognize: they make a role believable. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Christian Bale took on one of the biggest franchises in pop culture history: Batman. He took it on, conquered it, and somehow managed to show us Batman in an entirely new light. Before him, we all thought of Batman as a childhood superhero, a dude in a costume. But Bale took Batman and made him something more: he made him human. He got inside the mind and emotions of Bruce Wayne and created a human being, a man struggling with his past and trying to figure out what to do with his future. A man in love. A man who had to face impossible odds and overcome his own fears simply to realize what life was really about. In my opinion, Christian Bale should have taken home dozens of awards for this. But somehow, Batman Begins came and went, flying by sort of unnoticed by people in general. Shame, shame. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Then you have people like the cast of High School Musical, kids barely out of training bras and braces, and possessing very little true acting talent, who are hailed as great actors and are taken seriously by almost everyone. This sickens me. Those kids don't deserve that. They deserve to work for it, to put effort into it. Not to just have things handed to them on golden platters simply because they look good. The worst part of it is that esteemed people, actors and critics alike, who know the treachery that is being committed, give them pats on the back and indulge it without a word of criticism. They, who are in the position to stop or correct these errors, they decide to simply ignore them and keep moving on. How like the world we live in. Ignore the problem, that will make it disappear. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">But it never does. For who has risen in the wake of the High School Musical tsunami? Yes, that's right, bubble gum pop Barbie doll Miley Cyrus. But we won't go there, that's a whole other entry.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"> In simple conclusion of this blog, I beg all who read it to take a second look at your favorite actor, take the time to learn about them and find out if they really are true actors. There are true actors out there, but they are hiding, diamonds in the rough, waiting to be found and shown to the world. One can only hope that they're discovered before Miley becomes president.</span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-15418781518032801162008-02-08T23:17:00.000-05:002008-02-09T02:36:54.543-05:00Belated IntroductionI was reading my cousin's brand-new blog today (Watch This Story Unfold, see side link) and I realized that I never really introduced myself(not that I actually believe people read this). My pseudonym is Nikki J., and since this blog is used primarily for my creative outlet, I thought it appropriate to use a false name and no others.<br />I won't disclose many other personal details about myself since I like to allow my readers an unbiased opinion about me. I will say that I have a very open mind, I'm willing to accept any and all as they are. I do my best not to form instant opinions about anything, and to not let physical appearances and images hinder my true view of something. I love books and writing, and I also have a true adoration for film and TV. I am fascinated by the idea of getting someone's mental images out of their head and onto a screen where everyone can see it. Film is truly an amazing form of art, and I think that it is often abused by people to simply make money. But I'm rambling here, back to business. More about me.<br />I'm generally a quiet person, although when in the right company, I have been know to lose it a bit. Only in the best sense of the phrase of course. I like to observe people and their habits, it helps me to better understand them. I am very reserved, but know that I am always willing to give opinion or advice, when asked. I try not to be one of those people who forces their opinions on everyone at the drop of a hat. Those kinds of people irritate me, as this is a very obnoxious and rude way to handle things.<br />I don't like a lot of gossip and drama. I like when people talk about things that matter to them rather than trivial stuff that will be forgotten in a day's time. People who make mountains out of molehills also irritate me.<br />I think that's pretty much it for now, if I think of something else I will certainly post it. If I have any readers, I hope you have gotten to know me a little better. And if I don't have any, then I am essentially talking to myself, a strangely comforting concept.Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23686619.post-55139545556083024242008-02-07T23:24:00.000-05:002008-02-11T00:51:41.399-05:00Five Minutes to Midnight<span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Well, it's not actually five minutes to midnight, but that's the song I'm listening to right now(by Boys Like Girls, they are amazering). I haven't been on here in forever, so a lot has happened. Nothing anyone wants to hear about, of course, so I'll just talk aimlessly about something completely pointless. Haha, just kidding. Lately I have become a music adventurer: I will listen to anything and everything. I have discovered some truely unique and enjoyable bands/artists, and I will give a small rundown and review of a few of them for your reading pleasure.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Ingrid Michaelson:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Fascinating artist, primarily indie, she has a soft voice but a quirky, interesting rhythm to most of her songs. She seems to be almost a blend of A Fine Frenzy and Fiest, having that lullaby-esque tone like Fiest but the heartfelt lyrics and piano of AFF.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">The Weepies:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Also an indie group, very good. They have a gentle almost innocent quality to their music, focusing on gentle lyrics backed up by soothing instruments all tied in with lilting voices that seem to draw you in saying, "It's ok to be a kid again."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Yael Naim:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">You're probably familiar with her song New Soul, which has been featured on the commercials for the Macbook Air. She has a very interesting voice, not particularly strong but with just enough of an accent to make it interesting. Her music is something akin to AFF but with more prominent guitar than piano. I will confess, I've only sampled a few of her songs, but I'm planning to get ahold of some more.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Minnie Driver:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">A big surprise, a very appealing actress/singer. She has a very deep quality to her voice, and her lyrics are wonderfully poetic. If you are to check out any of her songs, let it be Beloved. Certainly one of her strongest. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Joss Stone:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">The first time I heard her, I wasn't too impressed or excited. Then, when I went back and listened again, I came to thoroughly enjoy her deep, strong voice and wonderful bluesy quality. She is an artist I would categorize as a contemporary classic: she is definitely up to today's standards in more than one way, but her lyrics and style have a classic, jazzy feel to them that make you want to sing in the shower.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">30 Seconds to Mars:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Yet another story of actor-turned-singer. But this one has a happy ending. Jared Leto on lead vocals has an amazing talent to take the lyrics that would just be so-so by some other band and make them truly amazing. His strong voice makes your soul fly and your throat tighten. The lyrics, under his strong control, cease being merely song and become true poetry. A very underrated band.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Boys Like Girls:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Also an underrated band, but I think their talent is slowly being realized. The composition of their lyrics combined with the instruments and strong lead singer make almost every song they sing perfect. My favorites so far: Thunder and their Frou Frou cover, Let Go. Definitely a band worth buying the cd for.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#ff0000;">Well, that's as many bands/singers as I have the energy to review for now, I hope you found it helpful. I plan to update more often since I actually have some things to write about now, so expect more mindless drivel coming soon! Ta-ta!</span>Amberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06142991497496143398noreply@blogger.com0