Will you survive?

Game over. You did not survive.

These weren't the exact words, but I got a similar message after taking this Hunger Games test. For those of you who haven't heard about this book, you should read it. Well, read all three of them, actually. But, anyway, I did not survive the Hunger Games, according to this test. Why not? Because I am way too unagressive.

I spent the last ten minutes of science class listening to five guys talk about different types of guns. Exciting, huh? Not really, I honestly have no interest in firearms. Which is one of the reasons I would be one of the first to die in the infamous Hunger Games.

But, would I want to survive? Ignoring all the consequences the victor tributes in the book face, what would it be like to be a survivor? To know that 23 other kids died so that you could be the one to live. But is it really living if you have to drown out the memory of the people you helped murder?

And besides, I have to ask. Do you really just want to survive? Is surviving enough? In my opinion, I would much rather live. Really live. Taking every moment and living it to the fullest. I do not want to be a survivor.

What about you, will you survive?

Sleep

I love sleep. Seriously. I do.

I mean, my self prescribed bedtime is around 9. And yet, it isn't early enough. I wake up at 6, or between 7 and 8 on weekends. Still, I need all those 9 to 10 hours of sleep. Really I do. I mean, if you don't sleep you can't have weird dreams about standing in really tall grass or killing people.

Another benefit of sleep is laying in my wonderful bed covered with blankets with a fan blowing into my face. I could sleep forever.

Why am I writing about sleep? Possibly because my last class was biology, and I was half asleep for half the class. I think the teacher was talking about land fills while I listened to the darkness behind my closed eyes. But then again, as I was really only listening for the sound of my name, I can't be completely sure.

Anyway, as the week continues to drag on, I encourage you all to sleep- at least for a little bit. Maybe you will suddenly realize you love it just as much as me. ;)

Days

And so, with this yet another day goes by. Well, it isn't actually gone yet, but the school part is. What an exciting life I live, filled with the joys of tests. Which, by the way, I got a 56%, and that is considered good. Needless to say it's a hard class.

Anyway, I would like to let you know, if any of you care, I am doing much better. Seriously, you need to realize how nice it is to be able to breathe without making a concious effort at all times. So, stupid asthma, you have been temporarily defeated.

I believe I have no new updates... but I must leave now to go write a story about an elevator. I promised a friend that it WAS possible to write a good story written in first person from the point of view of an elevator. I now need to go prove my point.

Mad at Blog

So, I can't comment on any blogs. I don't know why. Everytime I click on "view blog" or type the title of a blog into the search bar, I get logged out of my account. And it bugs me. :(
Anyone have any ideas of why my computer hates me so much?
I really want to be able to you know, comment....

Sick Days

Five hours. Do you realize how long that is? Especially for a fifteen year old girl who is sitting in the hospital breathing in gasses that hold medicine that is supposed to cure her and make her feel better. However, obviosuly the medicine isn't as good as they say. Otherwise, I would have gotten away with one dose, not five. But instead I sat and sat and sat, breathing and watching smoke rise up from the little mask on my face (and by the way, I still have lines on my face from where the mask pressed against my face).

Even with Suzanne Collins' book the Hunger Games, I was ridiculously bored. I finished the second book, read a couple chapters of the third. I even stopped between books to guess what would happen in the next book before I began reading.

So, now I am home again, and my breathing is still not 100% normal, although at this point I don't even remember what normal is. And I am bored, again. And no, I will not continue reading because, even though I was not reading the whole five hours, three or so hours is still a long time to read. And frankly, I'm sick of reading. And I don't want to do any of the homework that is heaped in a pile beside my bed. I mean, I know I would normally be sitting in history class right now. But since I'm not, it seems perfectly ridiculous to even consider reading the history chapter (which should have been finished yesterday).

Instead, I'll find some other way of entertaining myself before finally giving in to the dreaded school. Although, I remain convinced that school would have been better than sitting in a hospital trying to remember how to breathe.

Hearts

I was looking at a friend's pictures, and she had a bunch of hearts. You know, those heart shaped rocks and pickles and leaves? She even found one of a heart shaped spot in an aspen (my favorite kind of tree, by the way) and it was so pretty.

And I realized, God really does show His love for us in all His creation. I mean, go to Google images and type in hearts in nature or something similar. Sure, some of the pictures are photoshopped, but it's still pretty awesome.

We live in a world of love. When Jesus said the greatest commands were to love God and love your neighbor (Matthew 22:34-40), he wasn't kidding. Love is everywhere. take a minute to think about how much Jesus loves you. How much he did for you. And then, realize we are supposed to go and love others with this same love.

Viva Mexico

Happy Birthday Mexico! 201 years old. I felt very Mexican over the weekend, getting all decked out in green, white and red. then, listening to the national anthem and hearing praise songs. then the Grito. And even though I wasn't thinking about Mexico's Independence at the time, it was still cool to be there. to hear the names of those heroes being called out. to see the fireworks and watch the confetti. to feel like a part of Mexico, even if it is a very insignificant part. I felt proud to be part Mexican. Proud to be an MK. Even if it means going to places I don't want to go and forcing myself to eat soup that tastes nasty! Anyway, VIVA MEXICO!!

Brains

Maybe my mind looks a little bit like this right now. Hectic, crazy, out of control. But, at the same time there's an element of beauty. A promise of something better. And, below the storm, the houses are safe. Free from the impending danger. It's gorgeous, really. In fact, I think the tornado just completes it, makes the scene final and perfect. Of course, the tornado is there. Ready to turn around just a tiny bit and crush the cute little town. This picture is still pretty.

 My mind looks not so nice. It's harder to find the beauty here in the depths of my brain. Think of the tornado. Just the tornado. No rainbows or houses or green grass. Just a big tornado. It's harder to find the beauty here. Especially if you're the one that's stuck anywhere near this storm. And yes, my mind does feel like this. There is a mass of thoughts bundling up inside of me. So many thoughts that I'm afraid they are going to start a rebellion. Join together and form a tornado. And then, well, I'm history. Either that or I can just go along. Let the winds of my ideas pick me up and take me with them. It would be nice to see where I end up. 

Barbie

Yeah, I know this isn't a real barbie, but you get my point, right?

I don't know about you, but when I hear the word Barbie I think fake. Plastic. I think of the "popular" girls in movies who have no identity. Everything they do is fake, is meant simply for pleasing others, or not.
Recently a guy at school called me Barbie. If it hadn't been this guy, who I knew was just saying it because that's the sort of things he does.. I would have been offended. After all, I'm not fake, am I?
Except, when I think about it, aren't all people guilty of fakeness. I mean, honestly, can you say you've never smiled when you didn't want to? Hasn't everyone put on a mask, to hide how they're really feeling? Or, when someone asks "how are you" your answer has been "fine" at least once. And we all know what fine means.
I'm not saying this is a bad thing. But, there has to be an element of honesty. You can't always hide behind your facade of happiness or indifference.
As a Christian, my identity is found in Jesus. By hiding my true character, I am hiding God's character. And that is a bad thing. So, just think about it. Maybe there is a time not to blurt out how you feel and what you're thinking. But there is a time to be real, honest. A time when you should be a person, not a barbie.

Life as an MK

1. Your life story uses the phrase "Then we went to..." five times.  (Ok, so way more than five. More like ten times I think.
2. You think in grams, meters, and liters. ( Duh! Who doesn't?)
3. You don't know where home is.
4. Strangers say they can remember you when you were "this tall." (So annoying!)
5. "Where are you from?" has more than one reasonable answer.
6. You sort your friends by continent. (Not continent, but country, and state.)
7. The nationals say, "Oh, I knew an American once..." and then ask if you know him or her. (It got us out of a ticket once...)
8. Someone bring up the name of a team, and you get the sport wrong.
9. You believe vehemently that football is played with a round, spotted ball. (Yep.)
10. Fitting 15 or more people in a car seems normal to you. (In fact, fitting less than that sometimes feels weird.)
11. You haggle with the checkout clerk for a lower price.
12. Your wardrobe can only handle two seasons: wet and dry. (Yeah, winter, summer, spring, fall, non existent here.)
13. The same individual also has to explain that red lights mean stop *all* the time, without exception, and you must stay stopped *until* they turn green, whether or not there is cross-traffic. ...and you still don't understand why.
14. When you can't get past "Oh, say can you see..." in the national anthem, and you have to watch to see what hand to use. ( And I only remember this because of Jose can you see...)
15. You go to a church you have never been in before and find your picture on their bulletin board.  (Or people I'm sure I've never seen before know everything about me.)

Okay, so I got these from: here. I saw a lot more, and I'm sure I could come up with plenty of my own. Still, these ones stood out because they are either true or mostly true. It doesn't always seem so obvious how different Mexico and the USA are. But, when you think about it... Well, they are quite different. By the way, the stuff in parenthesis is my own words. Hope this made you laugh. :)

Omnisocialists

"I'm an omnisocialist." This comment came from a classmate today during science class. You may be thinking, "What in the world is an omnisocialist?" Well... I'm not sure exactly, in fact, I don't think my friend knew either. At least not completely. It was the product of several things: 1: our teacher saying he was antisocial when he was young and 2: a lesson about herbivores, omnivores and carnivores. What this friend was trying to get at was saying he can be antisocial and likes time to himself, but he is also the life of the party kinda guy.
This comment made me wonder. I remember being to the point of tears this summer because almost all my friends were gone and I needed company. I also remember many times when I wanted nothing more than to be completely alone.
So, does this make me an omnisocialist, too? I guess so. :)
I'm also wondering now, are some people herbisocialists and carnisocialist? If so, what do those mean? Carnisocialist makes me think of socialist eating people... And herbisocialist just sounds weird. Anyway, just thought I'd put that out there for you to think about. Enjoy, and of course, comment.

Rainy Days

No, I did not take this picture. I got it from here. So, if you like this, the credit does not go to me.

In my opinion, everyone has rainy days. No one has a perfect life with no sad, depressing days. Sometimes these days are more common than others. There comes a point when everyone just wants to curl up in a little ball and cry. Am I right? If not, sorry... I can't always be right.
Anyway, what am I trying to say here? No, I am not just giving you random facts of life that you can't do anything about. In reality, I am convincing myself. After having more than one of these rainy days in a row, I've had enough. Too much disappointment is bad for you.
Then I realized something. Yes, it is a fact that you will have bad days. But no, it is not true that there's nothing you can do. You can do something about the rain. Sadly, you can't just miraculously make the rain go away forever- but you can be like this girl in the picture and you can throw away your umbrella (which probably doesn't really work anyway) and you can dance in the rain. Overused phrase? Maybe, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. Seriously, you need to dance. Enjoy life. Sing, smile, life live to the fullest. But above all, when it rains, drop the umbrella and dance!