This I Believe

I think the "This I Believe" essay is one of the coolest ways for people to learn about other people. They way the writers convey their messages are clever, and even sometime humorous with how accurately they compare things using similes or metaphors. An essay written by a man named John who is in prison is titled "The Fear That I Don't Matter." John grew up in a household where his father beat him down repeatedly, whether through words or extension cords. After being told time after time that he is basically worthless, John chose to believe it and eventually that choice made him end up in prison. He soon discovered that he was far from being worthless and that he actually liked who he was, really was, when he chose to be a good person. He began to help children with special needs from prison by making him toys, coming up with projects to help more people, and even sponsoring a child from Kenya so that he could continue attending school.
John, through his experiences of helping people from inside of prison, learned that he believed in life, and that all forms of life are important, no matter what people say about them. His tone through the essay is positive in a way that no matter where a person is in life, or what they did, they can change who they are and do good things. His voice shows through with how he talks about him realizing that he is important. His essay is inspiring in a way, coming from a child who was beat down to the size of a dime, believing it, and then turning it all around while still paying for whatever mistakes were made.

Finally

I have finally fulfilled my snowboarding void!!! It has been too long, then I was finally able to go to A-Baisin on Saturday. It was pretty much epic. There was only one run of man-made snow about 1 and 1/2 feet deep. I wasn't even able to make it through one song before I reached the bottom again, but it was still completely awesome. People are crazy at the begining of the season. There were mini parties going on in the parking lot. There were also some of the cutest dogs I have ever seen.
As I was going down my first run of the season, however, some crazy guy was doing a little jump off to the side, lost control, and slid into me, knocking me over and slicing my arm a little on his board. That wasn't very fun at all, and my arm is still numb, but I know that that kind of stuff happens so I didn't let it ruin my first day of the season. I can't wait to go again.

What is fair?

Remember when you're a kid and your parents tell you no, so you say "That's not fair!" Well my parents always responded with "life isn't fair." That is something I honestly believe because what defines fair? Is it fair for a little child to grow up without a father because he died in a war? Yes, the father may have chosen to go to war. However that child did not choose to lose their father. Choices people make create different situations that happen to them, but it doesn't mean that those situations are fair. When I was in 4th grade I had this friend who lived down the street from me who was actually more like a brother than anything else. When I fell down and was crying, he picked me up and brought me home. He ended up killing himself, and that situation wasn't fair for anyone. Some people may say that life is fair, but the only way I would be able to see it that way is if horrible things didn't happen to anyone. If the world was perfect and peace and love took over, then, and only then would life be fair.
Even people who have a great life can see that life isn't fair to those little children all around the world who are starving because there isn't enough food to eat. Or the people in Darfur, Sudan who are trying to survive through one of the worst things a human can experience: genocide. They didn't choose to be born into those situations, yet it happened and it's definately not fair that they have to deal with those difficult things.
Families that have money tend to spoil their children, giving them everything they beg, whine, and cry for. If they want a car, they get 2. Life isn't fair in that respect because there are kids out there who don't even have a bed to sleep in, or a blanket to keep them warm, while there are rich, spoiled kids who have a huge beds, and a closet full of warm clothes.

In the words of my parents, "Life isn't fair."

Fort Collins

On Friday my friend Rachel and I went to Fort Collins to tour CSU's campus. We decided to sign up for a tour thinking it would be beneficial, however it was the biggest waste of time ever. They put you with students, but they weren 't students who knew things about classes, only the campus. We didn't realize this until too late. They split us up into groups, and even separated Rachel and me, leaving us to be bored all by ourselves, and leaving me to text the entire tour. I don't remember a thing said throughout it except for the library, which is huge.
I'm pretty much stoked to go there next year. The area is sweet, and there's so much to do. Cute little coffee shops, a lot of resturaunts, as well as the mountains and Puter Canyon are right in it's backyard. It's going to be a great experience and I can't wait to start on it.

Writing

I have recently discovered that I am starting to hate writing. Something that before brought me freedom and release has turned into a chore. I'm becoming annoyed with it and frusturated because I no longer have time to write in the ways I enjoy or wand to write, nor do I really want to anymore. This whole blogging thing is one of the things bothering me. I wouldn't mind it if only certain people could read it, but I guess it bothers me a little that people from all over the world get to look at what I write about, leaving me to feel as if I can only say certain things. I guess I just feel like I'm not allowed to be that creative with how I write anymore.
I use to love to write poetry, but now I dread even thinking about writing so I don't feel like it anymore. It's kinda a bummer, but I guess it's a good thing to find out how much it sucks before I think about doing it for a living. With this blog though, I don't even know what to write about half of the time. Sometimes, when I feel like I can't make it at least two paragraphs as required that it turns into me blabbering about nothing, just like right now. That makes me realize how much I'm really not enjoying it anymore and I guess it just sucks. Hopefully I'll get it back because it was fun for a while.

Snow

I want it to snow so bad! I seriously can't wait for those mornings where everyone has to go ten miles per hour to ensure they don't slide off of the road. I want to go snowboarding so bad, it's not even funny. I've been having a reacurring dream that I'm finally up on the mountain, in a foot of powder, having the time of my life taking up the whole mountain and carving my way down. It hurts to wake up and realize that not only was the dream not true, but I can't even make up for it by actually going snowboarding yet.
I can't wait to be able to go to empty parking lots and do donuts with crazy e-brake turns. It's one of the funnest things to practice. I also can't wait for the drives up to snowboarding. My friends and I make it so much fun, that the hour of getting there seems to only be actually about 20 minutes. Snow sort of brings us all together, with is weird because generally when people think of winter it reminds them of isolation. I don't feel isolated at all, nor stuck, because there is always something to do in the snow, and someone who wants to do it with me! Can't wait like 2 more weeks!!!

Goodbye to Mickey Mouse pancakes

I use to spend the week looking forward to Saturday mornings. Out of bed by 6, glass of chocolate milk, and classic cartoons featuring Road Runner and Yosemite Sam. My grandpa would wake up and ask me what I wanted for breakfast, as if the answer was going to be different that time. I always replied, with a huge smile on my face, "Mickey Mouse pancakes!!!" Such a delicious breakfast that was guaranteed to make anyone who ate it happy for the rest of the day. With blueberries and whipped cream as the eyes, and a banana cut into a long, curved slice for the mouth, it was almost too awesome to eat. I had conversations with Mickey on these mornings, since everyone else was still asleep, and he helped me decide what to do that day, and really helped me with my problems. By problems, of course, I mean like whether to wear my blue or green shirt that day. Mickey Mouse pancakes really livened up my childhood.
Now that I'm older, I'm not allowed to have Mickey Mouse pancakes anymore. It hurts to go to a restaurant and see Mickey hanging out on the kids menu, for 12 and under. I can't pass off as 12 anymore, and being 18, would be judged to even attempt to order off of the child's menu. My grandpa has long since passed, and Mickey sort of died with him. My dad won't even make me Mickey Mouse pancakes anymore, and it makes me feel as if I've lost a part of me. A part of my childhood is gone. I know if my grandpa was still alive, he would wake up to find me watching Saturday morning cartoons and ask me the same old question, not even thinking about my age. "What do you want for Breakfast?"
"Mickey Mouse pancakes!!!"
I miss you Mickey Mouse pancakes. Saturdays just aren't the same without you!