My Memory

I've been having some trouble with my memory. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe there's nothing wrong with me. Maybe I'm just being paranoid like my mom sometimes is. Or maybe there is something wrong. Maybe I have amnesia... like Jason Bourne. Or maybe it's short-term memory loss... like Dory from Finding Nemo. They seem to make it work. But somehow I can't picture myself beating up CIA assassins with my bare hands or singing a song about swimming, no matter how adorable it may be. Anyway. Back to the point.

I'm worried about it. To put it frankly, my memory's been sucking lately. It's not like huge things, like my name or my birthday or anything. I can remember those fine. It's little things. For instance, I'll make myself a mental list of things I need to do (ie: charge cell phone, charge iPod, get history book from basement, etc.) and if I don't write it down, there's a really good chance I'll forget something on the list. And then I'll know I've forgotten something, but I have no clue whatsoever as to what it is. It's incredibly frustrating.

And the weird thing is, remembering music isn't really a problem. I play the violin (more like Celtic/Irish tunes... yeah... I play the fiddle... please don't make fun of me. I'll kick your ass. :-P) and I don't read music. I learn by ear, and my teacher puts the songs on my tape recorder. Maybe it's just musical talent or whatever, but I don't have a really hard time remembering my songs. If I don't practice them enough, the next time I play them it doesn't sound great, but that happens to everyone.

So what's wrong with me? I'm sure I had a ton of other examples to put in here, but what do you know? I've forgotten them.

I hope you all had a good holiday. Enjoy your New Year.

Sincerely,
Aravis

The Moon

Today we were driving home from my grandparents' Christmas party. We were merging onto the highway when I saw the moon. It was perfectly circular, and a beautiful shade of ivory. Then, about twenty minutes later, I saw it again when we were pulling into our driveway. It was smaller, but still perfect and bright. It got me thinking. The world, when you think about it, is kind of a small place. Yet there are still endless adventures and experiences to be had in it. So many places to go, cultures to experience.... It's funny how the seemingly most insignificant thing can stir up so many thoughts.

I don't really have anything important to say here, but I feel guilty for not posting in a while. I hope you all are doing okay, wherever you are.

Happy holidays to those of you who are celebrating, and if not, have a happy December anyway.

Sincerely,
Aravis

The Future

Hey, everybody. By some miracle, I have no homework tonight. So I'm going to write a post.... This one doesn't have any real meaning or significance, mostly because nothing super spectacular has happened lately, but here I go anyway.

My future. Well, when I was six I wanted to be a cashier at a supermarket. I thought scanning the things and pressing the buttons was the coolest thing ever. Then when I was eight, I wanted to be a waitress. My dad told me that some waitresses get to do both, and I nearly fell over with glee. Then for a few years after that I wanted to be an actress. I could see myself in movies and TV shows, and I stuck to it. I did plays at school and drama club and all that.

Now, though, it's different. I don't want to be in food service (I actually had a job busing tables recently and I couldn't wait to quit...) or be an actress. I want to go to Darmouth College and I want to be an author. This one I've stuck with for a long time. I can't remember exactly, but I think I've wanted to be an author ever since the sixth grade. Dartmouth came after, but any other school is my fallback. (I know. I'm only a sophomore, and I already have a fallback? My mom's a teacher/guidance counselor. She's very much into checking out colleges and being prepared and all that.)

Why do I want to be an author? Well, I couldn't really give you an entirely logical reason. I dream about seeing my name on the cover of a bestseller in Borders or someplace. I dream about being that teenager who wrote this fantastic novel, though I'm not all about the hype or the fame. That's not why I write. I write for fun, and even though some of my friends find that a little strange, I do it anyway. It's the best way I know to vent, to let out my feelings. I get to create my own world and my own characters, and I'm completely in control of what happens. It's not as stressful as real life; I make good use of the Backspace button. I get to write how I feel and writing something is so much easier than saying it sometimes. I'm determined to get myself published someday. I've obviously considered that I might get some rejections, but I don't care. My friend always says "words have power," and I've followed that philosophy with my writing. I have myself convinced I'm going to have my own book out there someday, and I don't see myself as becoming a failure in that aspect. I'm prepared to get rejection letters from some publishers, but I know I'll get my acceptance or "Sure we'll publish your book!" or whatever you call it letter. I don't doubt that. Maybe I should, but I don't.

I do hope I haven't gotten you slumped onto your keyboard, snoring, because of all that. If you did fall asleep, I hope you had a good nap. ;-)

Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,
Aravis

So Sorry

Hey everyone. So sorry I haven't posted in a while. Turns out trying to balance sleep, school, and fun makes you insanely busy.... I'll try and post after school today or tomorrow. I hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving/long weekend.

Sorry again,
Aravis

Indecision

I can't decide. On a lot of things, actually. And it's not minor, insignificant things, either, like "chocolate... or vanilla?!" It's big-deal things.

See, I wouldn't call myself a hypocritical person, but I do have my days where I'm hyper and bubbly and fun and laugh-y, and then my days where I'm more subdued and quiet and thoughtful. My quiet days are usually my more inspired days. I've found that sometimes my mood for the day depends on what my morning was like and what music I listened to on the bus ride to school. But enough of the back story.

I can't decide whether I want to be the fun, joke-telling, bubbly Becka or the more thoughtful and quiet one. I really can't. And people always just tell you to be yourself, but what if you have no clue which part of you is the actual you? It's like The Incredibles, when Buddy (as IncrediBoy) says to Mr. Incredible "You always tell us to be true to yourself, but you never tell us which part of ourself to be true to." (I get a lot of life lessons - or questions - from Disney/Pixar movies....)

So there's my dilemma. It's easy admitting this in writing, rather than saying it to someone, I must say. So thank you, Zeph, for creating this blog. It's helped me a lot already, and I'm sure it's helped other people too. So hats off to you. :-)

Hope you all had a nice day. I like Saturdays.

Sincerely, although today was a more bubbly day,
Aravis