So I am two wrestling meets (three matches) into the season. Things aren't easy, but I never expected them to be. I like the challenge and I want to be able to get really good-- that's not going to happen if the boys baby me or go easy on me, so I am grateful for the people who push me. I haven't won any matches yet, but I am lasting a little longer after every match. At least I think I am, I don't really want to know for now (until I get better). I am even grateful to the guy who tackled me the second the whistle was blown without even circling or hand-fighting or anything. It sucked, and he was a jerk, but he prepared me in his own way. I guess forgiveness is one of those things that comes easier with age, because lately I haven't held on to any grudges. I am also grateful to my team- they support me and push me and care for me without babying me or making me feel lousy. I love it. They are all helping me to be better, and I can't wait to see how the season progresses.

I have finally established a Girl Code. It's funny, because I always assumed that the Bro Code was just one of those things that guys followed, but was never actually written down. But no, they have an actual book. Of course it is written by the guy from "How I Met Your Mother," but even then it is still a little shocking. So why can't girls have their own code? I mean there are plenty of things that girls do that are plain nasty. Or annoying. So I wrote down everything I believe girls should live by in order to get along with the fellow population. I will post it eventually, but I am afraid that because I wrote it in the heat of the moment it is a little sassy. But maybe that would make it more appealing. I don't really know. Well, at any rate you all will see it (and by you all, I mean my imaginary readers).

You always read in books about these wild romantic gestures that seemingly perfect guys display in order to win the girl. I will forever be a fan and firm believer in them, but it seems like real life guys aren't up to snuff. I suppose that's because I have never been in love, or I have never really attracted a boy at all, but hey- I don't think I am the only lovesick girl/woman who feels like chivalry is dead. I used to strongly believe that while there were still (probably) gentlemen out there, that there were no boys that still clung to these "old world" traditions known as opening a door for a lady or helping her over/around a puddle. While it may not seem like much, it is affectionate. This isn't to say that guys don't do plenty of things that are kind and considerate, but many of the older values are gone. Another thing that comes to mind when I think of the many men of novels, I think of them carrying the girl. Boys lifting up girls in order to move them when they are sick or hurt, in order to protect them, in order to hold them close. I never really realized just how wonderfully adorable that was until I was picked up by a guy and carted around like I weighed nothing. It wasn't a romantic gesture by any means, at least I don't think so, but I realized the thrill of it for the first time. It is feeling petite and weightless, feeling protected and loved, and even feeling exhilarated. It may not have been romantic (although that would have been nice too), but it was beyond thrilling to be in the arms of a muscular, extremely attractive, sensitive, gentlemanly, smart, guy. And no, I am not exaggerating, he is very near to perfection- he is skimming it with his very fingertips. I now understand all of the hype, and I just want to say to any guy readers- just try opening doors for ladies, be polite and say kind things, treat her like a woman, not a possession or a toy or just "another one of the guys."

Bio of a Self-Proclaimed Badass

Ever since I was small I knew what I wanted to be- a writer- but the reason this sprung up was because of my love of reading. I can remember clearly my childhood from when I was four until now. I remember my four-year old self infinitely jealous of all of the things my brother was allowed to do, and capable of doing, at the age of six. He was allowed to go to school and meet friends, and he was even being taught how to read. That is pretty much where things began for me. I desperately wanted to be older, as any young person does, but I couldn't even read my own books, my parents had to do it for me. This is when I taught myself how to read. I carried around books and tried to remember which words went with which sounds when my parents read to me. My brother learned by learning the alphabet. I remembered small words at first, but then I began putting words together on my own, and eventually my mom discovered that I could read a few of my favorite books on my own, and she no one had even begun to teach me. I was so proud, learning how to read before my brother could, and it lead to more and more books. But I wasn't quite satisfied. My brother was still able to go to school, and I was not, so my parents started buying me workbooks. They worked with me on things like math and reading, but I did a lot of solo work too. When I was five, I was finally allowed to go to school...early. i loved school so much, and reading was still a huge part of me. It wasn't until I was in about sixth grade that I started reading things about empowering women. A girl who disguised herself as a boy in order to become a knight, a woman assassin, girls who kicked but and took names. After that, that is all I wanted to be. I wanted to be tough and smart and all-around awesome, but my parents had a hard time believing that I could do anything super physical or demanding. I mean hey, all I did was read and I couldn't even run a mile. I was practically allergic to exercise. But I knew what I wanted to do, and every time I have ever put my mind to something, I have gotten it done. I started playing sports and my body thinned out. I maintained good grades while still maintaining my life, but I still wasn't doing what I wanted to do. But then anopportunity came around that I couldn't pass up. I heard about the Military Arnis program that was offered at the Military University where my dad works- but neither of my parents thought that I was capable of doing a martial art that was so physically demanding or tough. Especially not as an eighth grader-- and yet they offered it to my brother. Ever since I was small, my brother has always been offered the opportunities that I want, and so this was an especially tough blow, but then he didn't even take the coveted chance to do something amazing, and that just made me angrier. For the next year and a half I can't say that I thought about it constantly, but it was never far from my mind. That is when my brother finally decided to take them up on the offer, just after I had brought it up again. That stung. They let him begin attending, and I kept begging to be allowed to go. My parents and my brother both argued that it would be too tough or demanding, and that I wouldn't like it. But I knew that that was exactly what I had wanted since I was about ten years old, and I had just turned fifteen. Then one day, out of the blue my parents allowed me to go. I woke up at six that morning, in order to attend the ten o'clock session, that would last four hours. I was beyond thrilled, and that day did not disappoint. It was everything I wanted and more. I began going every weekend, learning boxing, cane fighting, kicks, ground work, and even how to use/defend knifes and guns. It was the only thing I thought about every day of every week, and I finally thought my parents would see that it was my calling, that I was meant to be a fighter- which in essence I always have been. I think they noticed, but they still haven't told me so. The day I went off to boarding school, it hit me- I wouldn't be able to regularly attend the Art in which I had become a brown belt in a matter of a few months (which normally takes a few years). I was devastated, and it is still hard to hear of my team mates progress when I am not there to attend. But I have now found another outlet- the boys wrestling team. It reminds me of Military Arnis in some respects, and it helps me channel my inner badassery. I come back with more sore muscles than I have ever had in my life, and I often have nasty bruises, but that is what I was made for. I was built to be tough. I was built to be all of the things I always wanted to be, and I am just now beginning to dive into everything. All I know is, I wouldn't trade my kick-butt skills for anything in the world. They make me who i am, and everything and everyone I ever wanted to be. I finally feel like all of the book and movie and story characters that have ever inspired me, and I love it. And I can't wait to continue to discover myself, no matter what opposition lies ahead.

My mood is so fluctuating. But it is getting better and better. I know that soon I will feel normal again. Happy. Not that I'm really unhappy either. Just a little numb. Like when you forget to wear gloves in the snow, and all you can do when you get back inside is run your hands under warm water or drink hot cocoa. That's essentially what I'm doing now. I'm cleansing my mind, my body. I'm thawing it out. I have finally realized that I can't make my happiness depend on anyone, so I am going to make each and every moment of my life from now on the best it can be, whether I am alone or in a group. I am going to take the time to learn about myself. And God. I'm just sick of feeling this way, and everything that my parents have ever told  me about happiness and Love are finally clicking. I always suspected I am one of those solitary beings anyways. Despite being an extreme cliche, I really am a lone wolf. I have a pack when I need it, but essentially I fend for myself. People around me always say how they are here for me and they care about me, but I don't always feel the conviction...because I don't believe it is there. I get it, people do care, but humans are naturally selfish beings, and aren't willing to give of themselves the things that I need. I'm not demanding though, and I'm not bitter. It's just a simple statement. But I have realized that the things I subconsciously demand or desire don't need to be fulfilled by anyone but myself. And I am happy to oblige. I am finding my way again.

Goldfish. Now that's some addictive sheeeet. So is watching Epic Rap Battles of History. That's pretty much been my day so far, not really exciting. Well that and I got to have customized pasta today, and Cross Country practice was pretty easy. For once in my life nothing major is going on. I don't know whether I should be relieved or worried.

I've never felt so betrayed or alone. I don't know what it is that makes me so repulsive or awkward. I just have natural boy repellent coursing through my veins. I thought he liked me, that's why we went on a date, but instead he makes out with my much prettier, much YOUNGER "friend". I guess I don't really deserve to be happy, or else things like this wouldn't happen. It's like life deliberately dangles these little treats in my face, and as soon as I get close, BAM! That little spark of hope is yanked away. The only friends I have can't even be supportive. I don't really have anyone to talk to here, and when I try, I am just made to feel like what I am feeling is unimportant and lame. I am not a priority in anyone's life. I don't know if I ever will be. I know that high school relationships never last, but that isn't the point. I truly, truly understand why they mean so much to people now. You just want to feel important, you want to feel loved and worthy and beautiful, if only for a short while. Because then, when times get difficult, you can always look back and remember- there is hope, I used to be something to someone, that means it can happen again. But for the people like me who have never had a relationship beyond that of my cat, my romance novels and chocolate, it makes you wonder- will I ever be important to someone? And that is the worst. It is beyond any physical pain that you may have. Love is the cause for war, the cause for pain, the cause for sorrow; just as much as it can cause joy, peace, and completeness. Because with it, life is perfection, but without it, there is only desolation.

I'm not exactly sure why I find foreign guys 10000% more attractive than anyone else. I mean sure, there are plenty of attractive American guys, but come on. I have never truly had a die-hard crush on a guy from THIS country. Let's see....there was the guy from Mexico, the three guys from Russia, the guy from Egypt, the guy from Colombia, the guy from China, the guy from Brazil, the guy from Guatemala, and the guy from Germany. At any rate, you see my point. Is it the accents? The exotic good-looks? The allure of a culture that is unknown to me? I think it truly is the reader in me that is attracted to these men. They are a taste of something new, a whole world I haven't explored, and a hope for escape. They are different from what I am used to. All I truly desire in life is to write and to travel, so I think the curious, culture-thirsty side of me is the side of me that is attracted to these guys. I have been attracted to plenty of good, American guys, but they don't quite carry the same allure or mystery for me. So maybe one day I will find my prince, but who knows where he will be from? ;)

Sometimes I just feel really alone. I mean, where was I when they handed out all of the good qualities? I got stuck with all of the boring attributes, and now as a result I don't really have anyone I can call a true friend. It's funny, because I am always surrounded by people. But I know that I am not anyone's favorite person to be with. I know this as a fact. Because if it were false, I wouldn't feel this way. I was even ditched at Homecoming by my date. I guess I got the short end of the gene pool stick as well. Some things will never change. He did say some very sweet things afterwards though, but I am pretty sure that I was friend-zoned (if my vague impression that he was trying to confuse me with his sweet nothings is on the mark). But his friend is very nice. He saw me sitting alone today, on top of the wall, and our conversation went something like this:

Him- "Are you OK?"
Me- "Yeah, I'm fine I guess. Just thinking."
Him- "About what?"
Me- "I'm not really sure. Everything I guess. But really, I'm OK."
Him- "Are you sure? You're all alone, and that's not you. Do you wanna talk?"
Me- "No, I'm OK, really. But thanks."
Him- "Well, just remember, I'm always here for you if you need it."

That conversation literally meant the world to me. I know I sounded pretty unconvincing with my argument, but it was so sweet of him to understand that I just needed space. But honestly I really didn't need space, I would have loved to talk to him. I just didn't know what I needed to talk about until it was too late and he was gone. I wish I had taken him up on the offer. But I also didn't want to scare him off with my problems. At any rate, it's nice to know that in this soul-sucking son-of-a-gun world, there are some genuinely kind people. I just want a friend. An honest, caring, real-life best friend. Or a prince charming (but I've given up on that notion a long time ago, I'm too shy. I would date a sack of potatoes at this point.) Maybe it will happen.

Football game tonight, sailing tomorrow. And Homecoming, can't forget that...

Nothing can get better than fall. Or winter for that matter. Most people love summer, I mean sure- warm weather, swimming, beaches, shirtless boys (or girls in bikinis)- but I prefer fall over summer anytime. I mean you get to wear sweaters and scarves, rich colors, pink cheeks, warm drinks (Tea and Coco and Starbucks), mittens, boots, indoor pool, cuddling <3, movies, colorful trees and crunchy leaves, the faint smell of smoke on the air. The list goes on and on, but for now I will leave it at that. Personally I love cuddling and Starbucks myself, and cuddling with someone other than my cat, my stuffed animals or myself seems like a much greater possibility now than ever before. And something even better? Curling up in front of the fireplace and reading a good book while watching the snow fall in the winter time. That's my favorite thing other than sledding in the winter. My house has this one wall completely made up of windows and it makes you feel so small, like someone is watching over you. It makes you feel like you are in a snow globe. The reason cold weather is so much more desirable? You get to wear more layers and cute outfits and jeans, where no one can see your pale white skin or chub. Blankets upon blankets and no worrying about getting sweaty or having to cool off. I would choose being cold and having to warm up than being hot and having to cool down any day. What else is so great about Fall and Winter?

Halloween- Dressing up as someone other than yourself and getting candy, pumpkin chocolate chip muffins (I am a firm believer in trick-or-treating at any age).
Thanksgiving- Crazy families, amazing food, eating so much you want to sleep, Love and thankfulness (and in my case presents, because my birthday sometimes lands on that Thursday).
Christmas (or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa)- Presents, family, Love, carols, sugar cookies with icing (and little family rituals), ugly Christmas sweater parties, last minute shopping, sales on everything, no school, prime rib :)
New Year- Late night parties, crazy fun, sparkling cider (because I don't drink), midnight kisses
Valentines Day- Chocolate, cards, Love, cute stories, pink and red, anti-date parties, flowers, the coming of Spring.

Well, no book review today. I have a much different topic in mind. Love. Why is it just so darn complicated?  I have never been one to be fawned over, or even considered appealing to the opposite gender, for whatever reason. But now for some unknown purpose, I am being subject to the attention of two guys. It is so mystifying to me, when no one has ever given me me more than a few flirtatious moments out of their day. Who could possibly like me? The tall, awkwardly proportioned, girl who doesn't know who or what she wants to be. It's not even the current revelation that amazes me. It is ever since the summer, when I had a brief "fling" with some guy I met at 6 Flags. If you can even call it that. I met him in the lazy river and he asked me to join his "blood clot," which basically meant he just wanted me to link tubes with his group of friends, and then we spent the day flirting after he ditched his friends. Since then male attention on my part has been what some would consider mediocre, but I would consider abundant. My only concern is this- I still haven't had my first kiss, and I am fast approaching 16. This is just slightly depressing, because I know that I wouldn't have this problem if I wasn't so afraid of being with someone, or being something more than just solitary. But now while my heart belongs to one person (similar to love at first sight, but it's really more of  an infatuation), another boy likes me. I think that while I can be happy with the hot Latin American (Jacob**), I can't truly get over the smoldering Arab (Edward**). The fact is though, this little love triangle seems to be all anyone can talk about. In fact, it seems like my previously non-existent love life is so fascinating that people are choosing teams (think Team Edward and Team Jacob). So why is it so fascinating? Is it the fact that they are such good friends, yet seem to be waging a test.oster.one contest over the rights to be near me? I hang out with them both enough, but for now let's just say that I have bottled up my feelings for for 'Edward' so that I can give my homecoming date a chance ('Jacob'). 

**Names were changed due to certain reasons.........

Book Reviews. That's what I'm thinking. In fact any kind of reviews, and ideas I have on different sections of books. Music, video, art reviews? Maybe that's what I will do, I will make that my mission. And photography. At this point, my direction and purpose is not clear, but let's see how things unfold.
                                                                                     

Blogging. I have attempted many blogs before...some more successful than others. Some of them had no purpose, and perhaps that's why they slowly dwindled. But then what happened to the ones that had a reason? My writing blog, my Merlin blog, my Twilight blog (not proud of that one folks), or even my photo blog. Maybe they just became less important in my life, or I became less passionate about what I had to say. Or maybe I just ran out of things to say. I suppose all of these things are true. But I never really speculated why. All I know is that I want it to work out this time. I want to be dedicated. I want to have a purpose...but I never truly want to be tied down. So here goes- I promise to have a purpose to each and every post, whether or not that purpose seems clear, or matches up with any previous post. My purpose is to be. To create something meaningful, and to express myself through words and photos and Life. Or anything that suits my fancy. My purpose is...me.