He is not a tame lion. But he is good.

     
  I was at the doctor's office last week, because I had the flu. I go to a children's doctor's office, and laugh all you want, but I prefer it. Going to the doctor terrifies me. As I was sitting in the little office waiting for the doctor, I heard sirens. I thought nothing of it, because I live in a metroplex,and those sounds are not uncommon.  They gradually grew louder, and louder, until I felt like they were right outside the office. I looked up at my mom, who was sitting by the door of the office, and said "Mom, they sound like they're coming here!"  
 She looked at me and said, " It's a doctor's office, honey. They probably see them at least once a day."  
  I still wasn't really putting two and two together. Then the quiet doctor's office instantly went from silent to vibrant with sound. There was coughing out in the hallway, and a nurse announced help is close by. More coughing, and heart wrenching sobs. My heart began to shake; a child was sick. Really sick. I heard a women speak, the mother. I recognized her voice; I had seen them come in. She was a young mother, maybe 23, and had a small boy, probably 2 and a little girl who was probably only 11 months old. I don't know what it was, my illness, all the medicine I was drugged up on, or something else, but I was beginning to lose it. I was looking at the ceiling, blinking furiously, supposing I could force the tears back inside. It's funny, when we're upset, how we think we can do superhero things. 
    Out in the hallway, I heard the EMT's come in and roll in a stretcher. As they begin to coax the child and alert the EMT's of the little girls ailments, I heard a second nurse speak.  
  " It's ok, it's ok, your sister's going to be just fine. It's ok, she is going to be just fine." 
    I then completely lost it.  Even with my furious blinking strategy, there was no stopping the tears now. My mom looked up in alarm- I don't cry in public. I just looked at her, and said, "It's just so sad. He is sad. She is so little. Mom, it is all just so sad."  
    I knew how that boy felt. So little, and to see your sister, probably barely three feet tall, if even that, strapped down onto a big stretcher, with oxygen masks and IV tubes strapped onto her, being taken away into the back of a large loud truck.  He would have given anything to take her place. What if that was Hope? I wanted to trade places with that girl. I wished all she had was the flu, and I would take her place, so they would not be sad. If only life worked that way. Maybe, in a way, it does.
    Have you ever seen the "Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"? I have read the books many times, but it is something else entirely to actually see the movie. You might shove it aside, another Harry Potter, Eragon, or something else of the like. True, it is about a magical land that people enter through a wardrobe. If you were really being honest though, you would realize, like with anything, there is much more to it than that. 
     Out of four siblings, the third one, Edmund, is a traitor. He betrays his own sister, and sends her sister's savior to an inescapable death, all for a chance to be king with the White Witch. Throughout the movie, he is rude, and obviously ridden with guilt. He runs away from his family to the White Witch, and instead see's he, in search of Worldly things, has sealed his and his family to an inescapable death as well.  
      However, Aslan, this great and terrible lion, the true ruler of Narnia, offers his own life in place of Edmund's, and takes a traitor's death. The two girls, Susan and Lucy, watch Aslan die, atop his own table. He offers no resistance. It is a terrible thing, to see their faces. It is literally watching a heart break.  
    Meanwhile, Edmund has been freed, and he is forgiven by all. There is about to be a war between the Witch's camp and Aslan's. Peter, in Aslan's absence, is placed as High King. He, Edmund, and the smaller army enter into war, without Aslan. 
     Long story short, Peter finds himself in a position of a death mission. He tells Edmund to run, and take the girls and get home. He then turns and begins to head towards the White Witch, who is also racing to greet him. Edmund turns to go, and in true Hollywood form, turns and looks back. He sees the White Witch, who promised him fame, fortune, and anything he could ever want. She is raising her sword and wand against Peter, his brother, who is always bossing him around, getting onto him, always picked before him, but who is now going to give his life for Edmund who, in truth, was the cause of his death now. Edmund, runs back towards the White Witch, raises his own sword, and brings it down upon the witch's wand, snapping it in half. 
    Time stops; her eyes flash. You see Peter, standing off to side, now in a role reversal, watching Edmund and the Witch. Quicker than humanely possible, she takes her broken wand, flips it around to the broken half, and stabs Edmund, right in the heart.  
    It is a children's movie, so of course, Aslan returns and all is saved.  
Edmund ends up living. It's besides the point though, because at this point, and only ever in this movie, I cry. Every single time.  
       Sacrifice. The sign of true love. I'm not saying that if you don't die for someone you love, it is not true love. It is just the ultimate sign of what love is. It demonstrates, that you are no longer thinking of yourself. Instead, you are putting someone else before you, and would rather receive a great punishment for someone else so that they might go onto live in all happiness.  
   Not all sacrifice ends in a grave - we sacrifice every day for the things we find important. Maybe you cancel plans so you can spend time with your mom, or pay for someone else's meal out of your own money. Perhaps you spend hours studying for a test so you can get scholarship money so your parents don't have to sacrifice so much of their own money to send you to college, or you give up going to baseball camp so you can go on a mission trip. The possibilities are endless. 
    However, sacrifice can be switched. Edmund sacrificed his own family for his own personal gain. We can abuse, and use people to get ourselves ahead in life. When we do that, we sacrifice friendships, people, friends, and other people's hearts. We are no better then if we took a wand and stabbed them in the heart, because after all, what do they matter to us? We're not really thinking of others at all, anyways.  
      What is important to us is obvious. It's all about who we give our time too. I believe in the Ultimate Sacrifice, and I know I will never be able to repay it back. You don't have to be religious though, to live a life of sacrifice. I can't tell you it is always fun and painless. It's sacrifice, not giving a pair of jeans away because they are too big. I promise though, you will reap the rewards. If it is true sacrifice though, you won't even want them. Because at that point, that person, that thing, that Great Thing, they're worth it.
    People tell me sometimes, " I don't want God. I just want to have fun, make the most of everyday. Do my own thing." Don't think you are escaping sacrifice though, you are just choosing to live for something else then me. Yourself.  
      Treasure your family. Treasure your friends. Treasure your ideals, what moral standards, what principles make you YOU. It's all worth it. Don't think you're not worth a sacrifice. If a traitor can be redeemed, you are worth far more. There is nothing, NOTHING, you have done that can't be forgiven. Nothing that makes you less deserving of grace, of a second chance. Don't think no one would take your place on that stretcher. In fact, I guarantee, someone has sacrificed already for you. I know I would. 




For Narnia! 
Olive :)

"Beautiful Things" - Gungor

  
  When I was little, I wanted to be Shannon Miller. Shannon Miller was this amazing Olympian gymnast who was also from Edmond, Oklahoma, which was thirty minutes from where I lived. I had her Barbie,I would clip out her photo in the newspaper, and I even sent her a Flat Stanely. I would play with my Shannon Barbie, and pretend it was me, doing amazing feats and contorting her(my) body for all kinds of unnatural flips and rolls. She had this pretty blonde hair she wore in a valley girl pony, and was very beautiful. Wikipedia calls her "the most decorated gymnast in US Olympic history." I would have given anything to be her.  
     My dad believes in anything I want to do. He saw a little girl who wanted to be a gymnast, and he signed me up to take a summer class. I remember going to my first class with such excitement; back handsprings! the balance beam! the spring board! I was going to be the next Shannon Miller! I could not wait. 
    At the very beginning of my first gymnastics class ever, the coach sat us all down, to give us a talk. She very plainly said that gymnastics was very dangerous, and that if we did not follow her direction to a t, we would probably snap our necks and die. I am not joking. That was exactly what she said. Than she proceeded to tell us that we would get started once we all did a forward roll. 
      I was terrified. I did not want to snap my neck and die! I somehow managed a forward roll, and they moved me on to the balance beam. They then asked me to do a forward roll on the balance beam. I'm a small girl, and I had my glasses off, which means I could not see very well. The beam was far off the ground. A forward roll was the last thing I wanted to be doing. With an assistant walking by me, I managed a roll, and they asked me to do another.     
     This time, I was not so fortunate. I took a tumble and fell to the ground, hitting the bar, and rolling off to face plant onto the mat. It was so painful, embarrassing, and scary. I was crying and shaking, and they asked me to get back on the beam and do it again. The other kids waiting were beginning to get annoyed, but being fearful of confrontation, I did exactly what the coach asked. I did not even make the first roll. Again, I fell, this time on my back, knocking on the wind out of my lungs. It was horrible. It was then I heard the comments that would probably shape who I am for the rest of my life. 


" Can't she do anything right? She is so stupid."  


" She probably can't see straight, look at her crossed eyes. She looks so ugly."  


      I quit gymnastics after that first class, and I have never been able to do a forward roll.  
        Fear. It encompasses so much more than we realize. It strangles us, and I can honestly say, it has plagued me my whole entire life. Fear is what sin is made of, I believe. Fear of being made of, fear of being alone, fear of failure, fear of not being accepted, fear of death, fear of being yourself, fear of trying something new, fear of people different than ourselves, fear of finding out we aren't who we believed we were. Fear of a god who will judge us for the life we live, fear of the Dark, fear of God being real. Fear of finding out all we believed in was a hoax after all. Fear of being ugly, fear of looking in the mirror and questioning what we're even doing in this life. Fear of being someone we totally despise. Fear of fear. 
       Can you identify with any of that? I can identify with everything on the list, give or take one or two. It's exhausting, and I am so tired. 
     I'm so tired of looking in the mirror and seeing this fat girl back at me. I'm tired of wishing I could be cool like my friends, instead of worrying that no one will really like me. I'm tired of being taken advantage of, and cast aside as someones second choice. I'm tired of bringing home all my worries and taking them out on my family. I'm tired of feeling stupid, ignorant, a fool. I'm tired of giving all I have out, and when I need someone to fall back on, it seems like no one is able to return the favor. Every day, I feel like I fall and hit the mat. I get back up, and again I fall and hit the mat. Again, and again. Every day. Right now-would you believe that? Even right now. I did something and I need something out of fear. Try, fall, and hit the mat.  
   
     What if that mat wasn't there?   


   What if every time something went wrong, the floor got a little bit harder?There is no mat. I fall, and it hurts. Gets a little harder. I fall again, and it hurts a little more. Gets a little harder. Get back and up, and I'm still hurting, but what do you know? I fall again. Eventually, I'm not going to be able to get back up. My fears will totally destroy me. My neck will be snapped.   
       Not everyone believes in God, some people question God, some people believe in a different kind of God than me. Overall though, God is my mat. He'll always be there to catch me, when I fall. He's not just a safe guard though- because once I do make it to the end of the beam, he'll be right there, waiting for me to stick the landing. I can live assured knowing that something was there to catch me, and is waiting for me. Always.  
       This is not meant to be a religious blog, so don't tune me out just yet, but at the same time, I am passionate about what I believe. So it's going to come out. I'm not how you stereotype a Christian though; so I'm hoping you'll stay tuned. I'm going to screw up, and I'm not going to lie, I just did literally five minutes ago. Being perfect, and condemning, that's not what a Christian is. It's living for something, the Greatest thing. I'm always open if you guys have questions. Nothing is ever off limits. I'm getting off track though, so let me steer back. 
      God may not be your mat- but you need something. Something to support you, something to say hey, you're acting crazy. You are beautiful, and you aren't fat. You do have friends who like you, and it's your own fault for chasing people who you know will leave you hanging. It's your own fault for being a total witch to your sister, just like it's her fault when she acts the same way back. You are a screw up but hey- i love you. Everyone screws up. Don't let it defeat you.  
      This blog isn't all about boys and code names and frivolous things to that effect. It has been on my heart though, not to preach it at you, but to just get it out. To know I'm not alone. To let you know that you're not alone. That girl who said those things, that boy who broke your heart, your mom who said those things out of bitterness, and you,when you tell your sister that nasty comment. We all fall down. We all fear the fall. If you're going to continue to live life, make sure you have a mat. Trust me on this. If you aren't able to get up, you won't be able to get the end to the beam, and if you can't get to the end, you're not going to be able to stick the landing. We have this one life to be the fantastic person we are born to be. I want to make sure you're able to give it the best forward roll you can. 




love, love, love, always with love,
Olive :)

Thin Mints Are Better Frozen

What beautiful best friends* I have. 

(not all are present in photo)

    
    I have been sick with the flu. It has perfectly awful because I never get sick, so when I actually do get sick, I feel like a burden to my family. Not to mention, I miss school, which sounds a peach, but really when you're laying around like a bum and you KNOW you have tons of work to make up, you'd probably just rather be there. (I missed PRE-CAL!!!! UGHHH!!! -shake fist to sky- ) 
     In addition to the lame way I will be spending my weekend doing homework, I had very exciting plans for this weekend I now can not attend. What plans? Oh, let me tell you. Friday was the Wide Receiver Jersey day, that I did not get to participate in or be in the picture. (and I love pictures) Also, on Thursday, I had to miss work, which I HATE doing. No work=no money. Today (Saturday) is the Winter Formal and the Anti-Winter Formal ( I feel like my life has become a Meg Cabot novel) and I will not be able to attend either. BUT, I will not let a common virus defeat me!  
      Being sick would have been totally miserable if I did not have such fantastic friends. If you did not know, you would have thought I was dying, rather than just having the household flu. I got various texts, messages, and phone calls inquiring on my state of being. Along with all those wishes, my friend Nessie dropped off a card she and my Pal, and her Pal had made me! { PAL- a program at my school where you are a "special buddy" to an elementary student with a troubled situation. } It was so cute! To add even more to my ego, Clarence colored me a get well picture and brought over soup! (She didn't actually bring it, because she got in trouble. Her thought, though, was just as good as her literally bringing it in my book.) I continued to be spoiled when Kitty brought me a powerade slushie from Sonic, my favorite. I have such great best friends.  
      Note I said "best friends." I view friendship differently than other people, I suppose. It all goes back to my childhood. (Doesn't it always, though?) When I was younger, I always wanted to be someone's best friend who already had a best friend. It caused a lot of heart break and strife as a five year old. From middle school, I decided not to live that way.  
        My friend Reid once asked me, in disbelief, (or just being snarky) " You really don't have a best friend?" Err, kind of. You see, I believe every friend I have is my best friend. I don't understand why I have to limit myself to one person. What happens if me and that person got in a fight?  So, rather than isolating myself to just one person, I have a group of kids I call my best friends. It's rather large. 
       Every single best friend I have is different. They all bring something different, unique, something totally their own to the table. They all provide something different for me; a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a swift kick in the butt. Some of my friends don't like other friends I have- they question why I could be friends with "so-and-so" or "such-and-such." For the same reason I can be friends with the former. When you treat someone with respect, like a close friend, like a dear friend, you will get it back.  If they have done nothing to you, and even treat you in such a way, what right do you have to think of them as anything else? 
      There is nothing wrong with having one or two best friends. If you plan on buying friendship necklaces, that would probably be ideal. I have never been too conventional though. This is the kind of friendship I need; a support system, that I individually support back, each in the way that works best for them.  
        So let me speak out on behalf of the friends I have: they can be crass, loud, obnoxious, and vulgar. Some are sweet, kind, others are sarcastic and moody. I love it. I love every single one of them, and care so much about every one that I have. I love to make new ones, and I treasure the old ones. We look out for each other.  
        BUT, I have some friends who  "don't play well with others." Not saying they are mean, but they can be judgmental, or think they are "holier" than someone else (whether they are religious or not) ,wary of change, or even just be afraid. Afraid to meet new people, afraid of people who are different than them. This makes me so sad. So many great friendships go without new life, because we're afraid to put ourselves out there. Speaking as a veteran of that land, I know how scary it can be. People are usually worth the risk though, and if they're not, move it bro. I promise, someone else wants to be friends with someone as kickin' as you.  
      Obviously, I can't be everyone's best friend. I can, however, treat all people that way. You get back what you give out. Be like a girl scout, " make new friends, but keep the old, some are silver and the others gold". ( Which means, ALL my friends are valuable. I love all of you.)  
          Alright. This blog has come to a close. SNL Update: We did not win. It was a good try though, ladies. Thanks for all the support. Also, on Tuesday, I will have a "colorful" surprise. Well, it might not be on here till the weekend. Depends when I get back. I'm very nervous/excited. I hope everyone likes it (including myself.) Also, I have some exciting news, but I have decided to save it for a later date.  




Love and Pillow Pets,
Olive :)

T-Shirt Time Tuesday?

  
   Happy Tuesday amigos! I have to admit, it hasn't been my FAVORITE Tuesday ever, because I have been suffering, according to my dad, "a severe head cold." I'm very much over this sickness- it is so 24 hours ago. Mwahaha. However, every day something great happens, so here's some exciting events, life lessons, and adventures. 
    I work at a childrens tutoring center, with young kids, aged between four and six. ( I know, I'm not quite sure what they're learning either-but some are there to learn English.)  I teach one little girl in particular, who is exceptionally bright. She is four years old and on a second grade reading level, and first grade math level. It's astounding. However, she is four years old, and school can be a little boring. As an encouragement, I would "race" her, by drawing a picture on scraps of paper for her while she does her math, and see who finishes first. (She always won.) 
  She really loved those pictures. She would always tell me how beautiful they were, and how she wished she was my pictures, so she knew that she would be beautiful too. (I know- cutest thing ever.) Of course, she is very beautiful, but it's hard for girls to get that. Any-who, today at work, she came bounding in and bringing me this sketchbook. It turns out she had been keeping all those pictures I had been drawing her, and saving them. Her mom thought it was so great that she bought me a special book so the little girl could keep all of them and have "good paper to color on." (Her words, not mine) 
    I think I almost died on the spot. On this crummy Tuesday, when I looked a complete mess and was listening to the world like it was a Death Cab for Cutie song {Death Cab for Cutie= a band who is really good, but always sounds like they are really far away} this little girl turned my whole day around. I never really got that, how much a little thing, can make a big difference. This Tuesday has been all about little things; getting silly text messages from Clarence of her making dumb faces, or texting Katy about the mental stability of Tom Hanks in AP Government, or getting our Wide Receivers jersey's in. Like my mom says, "be a bucket filler." Every little bit counts.  
      Attention to all my Guidos and Guidettes, this just in; the Jersey Shore sex monkeys have actually imparted some wisdom in tonight's episode. We all knew it was bound to happen sometime, I mean Snooki did write a biography novel. I know you're all dying to know what I gleaned from tonight, so here it is: forgiveness is divine. 
      That's right: Sammi "Sweetheart" asked for forgiveness from Snooks and Deena, and (not) surprisingly, they forgave her. Why is it not surprising? Because no matter how utterly stupid those kids are on that show, they have a deep sense of family. Not just family in the general sense, but treating all people like family. It's actually a pretty sweet concept.  
      I have a friend, and she has had a pretty rough year. Her life has gone through a major change. She has found herself, to be brief, friendless. Now, this is not totally true. She has her boyfriend, her family, and more people than she realizes who care about her. Not to mention she is very beautiful and has many redeeming aspects about herself. 
    However, remember when I said that friends are easy to replace, but the bonds are not as easily repaired? This comes into play. She has spent her time doing different things and spending time with different people. (Namely, her boyfriend.) There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Her boyfriend is a sweet guy and absolutely devoted to her, and she had a great time pursing other extracurricular interests. In the conquest of this new life, she left two best friends behind (along with some other people.) Not out of interest and not out of hate- just in the growing up and growing apart sense. ( Maybe there was a little "i'm too cool for you" in some accounts, but not in the whole.) This tends to cause alot of bitterness, in both parties. 
     I have been ditched many times in my life; sometimes even by said friend. It has taken time to realize that is not me personally, but it is the people I tried to befriend. My friend's best friends and other "friends" have moved on. They have created new friends and new relationships, and it leaves her seemingly standing alone. 
      The truth only hurts if you haven't been truthful with yourself all along. I tried to comfort my friend, but at the same time, she can't ignore some of it is her own doing. Nobody likes to hear that instead of dishing out blame, we sometimes have to take into check what we did as well. I can compare that feeling to someone slapping a wound with a hot chi. Brutal. I don't know why I didn't foresee her snap back. Our conversation quickly ended after that. 
    Today is a new day. Not only that, but "Tiny thing Tuesday", and this morning I got a text. An apology text to be exact, asking if I would still be her friend. It seems ludicrous to me that she would think I would quit being her friend over a hurt girl's retorts, but I told her yes. I hope it made her day a little brighter like it did mine. Forgiveness is truly divine.   


   So. That was a recap of Tuesday- and I have to be honest, that was a fairly ordinary Tuesday. I guess you don't realize how excellent your life truly is until you put it down on paper.  I'm off to go "read" The Odyssey  {codeword, Spark Note it.} Oh, before I forget: SNL UPDATE: we did not win today. There are three more days left, and Rod, Audrey, Erica Rickyy, and I continue to stay hopeful. Stranger things have happened.} 


Stay clean, classy, and coherent my friends. I'll catch y'all on the weekend. 

Olive :)  

Pass Me That Blunt

   
   It got your attention, didn't it? Being blunt usually does- sometimes, it's hard to tell between honesty, bluntness, lying, and not saying anything. I feel like as a teenage girl, my life revolves around those four things. When to speak, when not to speak. Do you really like her hair? Would she really want you to tell her you don't? Does he really like her? Do you tell her that he doesn't? Oy vey. Honesty is always the best policy, but silence is golden... and after all, it's only a white lie. CRAP. How do you decipher the hormonal wave of teenagers and our big mouth's? Lucky for me, after years of trying, failing, and getting in trouble, I have broken it down. I got this. 

          Why blunts are illegal.  

     We all know being honest is the best policy-it is, I find, hard to live that way. Some people strive to be honest (like myself) but sometimes, to avoid conflict, we fall into the "i'll-be-honest-please-don't-be-mad-i'm-just-not-going-to-say-anything"  category. Some people are the opposite extreme- like our lovely friend Ricky Gervais on the Golden Globes last night.  He is being honest with all those celebrities, rather than padding them with superfluous compliments that no one really means. However, he is being rude. I know, we all find that funny, myself included; after all, I am a big SNL fan. [ Status Update: We did not win the trip today, but there is four days left. Fingers Crossed!!] He's being saucy, blunt, "telling it like it is", however you try and sugarcoat it, he is being rude. In this case, was he right to call out those people? No. On the flip, was he being honest? Yes. So do you tell him he's wrong? That leads back into the gray area.  

       "So, you're saying he should have just lied?" No, I'm not saying that either. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, and are allowed to express them if they can be tastefully done.   If he couldn't say anything nice, he shouldn't have spoken at all. That's what should have gone down.  

     Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a party pooper. America (or rather the World in general) has blurred lines on what is and is not appropriate. We are all spoon fed this since birth by counselors, ministers, teachers, parents, etc. We don't often see how deep the lie really goes. Let's throw this down: 

        I was in the fifth grade, and going to my first "sleep away" retreat with my youth group. The supply list said to pack snacks- so my mom, being the sweet heart that she is, packed me a little granola bar, just for me, "so i wouldn't get hungry."  

       I was mortified. I'd be the only kid without snacks to share!  I chewed her out because that's what I had seen other kid's do to their moms. She ended up going to get me better snacks. I seem like a monster, I'm fully aware. What I was feeling inside though, was a different matter. 

       I went up to my room after I had finished packing and cried. Still, to this day, I look back on that memory, and feel such love in my heart for my mother. How she cared so much for me. It makes me want to cry all over again, and just hold her close. How different this memory could have been if I had shared what I was really feeling, instead, from lack for a better word, a bitch. I so much wanted to be cool, that I hurt other's in the process. It all went back to telling the truth. 

     Do you get what I'm saying? It's better, in the long run, to just be honest- but if you can't be nice about it, just don't say anything. There really is no reason to lie at all. I have learned that the hard way, especially during my sophomore year of high school. I totally get that it's hard. Trust me, I am still a human, like everyone else.  

      Thumb Tact 

   Sometimes though, too much is too much. This brings me back to my "favorite" subject. However, on a different note.  Let me introduce you to Dream Crusher. DC, is not, in fact, a Dream Crusher. Not that he is not at fault, but both parties (which means me) are guilty here. He fell into the RG honesty policy. I fell into the "oh God, somebody stop her" category. Let me bring you up to speed. 

     DC and I were friends way back in the fifth grade, but hadn't spoken since the seventh grade. It is now sophomore year, and I am feeling like a loser because I was still single. (So naive, so naive...) I had just been introduced to the world of Facebook. I'm still a newbie, so I'm not sure what is and is not appropriate (I'm still not quite sure...) I got a glimpse of DC in a mutual friend's photos, and he had turned beautiful. I was still, well, awkward. I was so convinced that he was still the greatest boy ever, and decided he was the One.

      I came on a little strong... like, wow-is-that-a-skunk strong. None of my friends really had boyfriends, so they couldn't really guide me, and of course my parents were "totes lameos" so it's not like I told them. So I posted tons of long comments and creepy photo comments on his photos....

       Needless to say, it did not end well. DC was very cool, and told very snarky jokes at my expense to all his friends, which made me cry for weeks. Also, he held a grudge for a long time, and at summer camp, my infatuation was still at the height of amusement. If only I had known... 

       I have developed a rule of thumb: tact. True, I haven't quite mastered it, because I am still very hesitant in new ventures, but I know you can't overdo tact. When things need to be said, say them. If you're questioning if it's appropriate or not, don't say it. If it's going to hurt someone else, don't say it, or word it wisely. 

         My mom has a saying she teaches to kids which is a spin off of "the sticks and stones" expression. It goes like this, " sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will ALWAYS hurt me."  We can say that words don't affect us, but we would be liars. It's your tact, how you handle it, and how you manage yourself, that shows the kind of person you are. It's not easy, but the number one step to being classy.  

Stay in school and learn to cross you i's and dot your t's 

Olive :) 

{ Note: School starts back up tomorrow, so I won't be blogging twice a week, probably on Tuesdays and the weekend. So keep checking. Happy MLK Jr. Day! :) }

The Day I Did Nothing

      
     When I walk up the stairs, I am not dainty. My mom refers to it as "a baby elephant". Not that I am big, by any means! However, since I have such short legs, it takes a little more effort to get up the stairs than somebody who was average height. Thus, it sounds like I am jumping on every step and purposely finding every creak in the stairs when I go up them. 
         That's kind of like my life. I cannot tread lightly-it's either all or nothing. It sounds really extreme, but life is extreme. I am what my friend Rod told me today, "really good, genuine, innocent." The innocent, though, are usually the one's who end up making the sacrifices. I don't mind it, though. 
      That sounds positively ludicrous, I understand. I have a big heart though, and I love to give. I love to make someone smile, to make them happy, to do anything to turn their day around. The world, in turn, is not as kind. It does not often return the favor, (the kind word, act in return, smile, etc.) Mostly because it's evil, but also, I think because it does not know how.  
     There's this commercial for this new Ashton Kutcher movie coming out, and in the trailer, he holds the door open for this beautiful girl. She looks up at him in astonishment, and says, "No one has ever done that for me before. Do it again." If someone as beautiful as her doesn't even get the respect she deserves, how can I expect to be looked at in a similar light? It's a little disheartening, but in the end, I know the World's approval doesn't really matter. I tend to forget sometimes though, to err is man.  
         According to C.S. Lewis, everything (that is man) is born with a sense of wrong and right, from God. However, it's not an impulse, because we don't always act on it. I totally agree with this. Sometimes, though, things seem to be in a gray area. Let me give you an example: 
       I have this totally gorgeous best friend, Ronnie. She is thin, beautiful; inside and out, funny, athletic and such a great friend. That is side one. On the other end is PSM. He is beautiful too, and though I don't know him as well, I know we'd be a good match. Call it teen infatuation, lunacy,stupid, or a whisper of God, sometimes a girl just knows these things. So who do you pick, your best friend, or someone who you think could change your life? Many teen movies have been created based on this pivotal question. Let's break it down a little: 
     (A) A boy is just a boy. He is looking for different things than you are. So, though he may be so beautiful to you, he could be after something totally different. I often run into this problem. (B) If it's meant to happen, it will happen. Why risk ruining a friendship, when if it is going to happen, let it take it's natural course, and get to keep both? 
       The choice to me is obvious. I have to go with Ronnie, because she means so much more to me. She has always been true, and choosing PSM, that would hurt her. How could I do that to someone else? Sure, it has been done to me, even by one of my own "best friends". I could never do that though, because to lose someone like Ronnie, that is sad. Friends are easily replaced, but the bonds are not as easily repaired. She is too special to be hurt over some flight of fancy. So the sacrifice is given, but it's not really a sacrifice anymore. I want to do it, because it's important to me. Ronnie is important to me.  
    On the flip: do you sit quietly passing by the time, waiting for Prince Charming to come find you? Maybe. I haven't quite figured it out. I am learning this, though. Sometimes, people find their true love earlier than they expected, like in high school. Sometimes, people find their true love in college. Sometimes, people don't find their true love till way later on in life. Sometimes, people never find their true love, because their true love was robbed of them.  
     This evening I went to play Quelf with some friends, at a close friend's house, named Miley. She is beautiful, feisty, and fun. Has a beautiful heart, and she wears it on her sleeve. She is head over heels for this boy, and I know she is. I saw it there. She is worried she is not beautiful enough for him. This makes me sad. 
     Real Talk: Every single girl is beautiful. I truly believe this, not just believe, but I see it.  Now, I'm not every girl's biggest fan- but it doesn't make her less beautiful. Not every girl is going to date the football star or the worship leader, but it doesn't mean that man she ends up with is a loser. He is just the perfect match for her. Simple enough.  
        For the Girls: You are beautiful. Oh my goodness, you can't even begin to comprehend how beautiful you are. You deserve doors to be held open for you, for  boys to pull out your chairs. Don't laugh at me, or roll your eyes. It's only when you expect less, that you get less. On the other hand, don't be a diva. It's a relationship, not a courtship. You have to put in some effort too. How are boys supposed to be enraptured by your beauty if you don't make it known who it's for? 
         For the Boys: You don't realize how scared of rejection girls are. We think (some of) you are so great, even beautiful. It hurts to know you don't feel the same way. So cut us a little slack- if you likes us, man up, and make it known. If it's a girl you want to get to know, or a girl who is your best friend, shake a tail feather, brother. Even the most homely girl won't wait around forever. Some other boy will notice her gorgeous heart and snatch that up. It's a catch, not a hand out. Don't undermine your worth by going for cheap when you can go couture. That's all I'm saying. 
       I have been burnt many times, for coming on too strong, not being pretty enough, etc. That really hurts, let me tell you. One of my former friends once told me it was because I was aiming out of my league. That's a joke- leagues aren't real. I was trying to get something that wasn't meant to be. I'm glad it didn't happen.  
       I told my friend this blog wasn't about boys. It seems to be turning into that, so let me steer right. Here was my point- right vs. wrong. We are all born with the notion, or we wouldn't know we were doing wrong. The gray area that has evolved, you can thank the World for that. So when stuck in the gray, do Nothing. Reach for the Hands that will save you. That may not be how you choose to believe or live. Don't let me condemn you- I'm just saying. If you're ever stuck in the gray, get out. Baby Elephant, gray doesn't look good on anyone. 


Dance if it makes you happy,
Olive :)

Skype, Burlesque, & Friend Dates

     This is my third blog in the course of three days; I can guarantee once school starts up again, I will not be posting as often. However, I am now, so enjoy it, or skim it, or whatever. So, onto my blog!  

       I have found a new love of my life. It's called SKYPE. This is truly a beautiful thing. Now, I have had Skype for a while, but now all my friends have gotten webcams, so Skype now possess' a purpose. It allows me to talk to people even faster than a text message, and sometimes even see people when I talk to them. It might be even better than text messaging. 
      Scratch that. Nothing is better than text messaging; it has a special place in my heart. That's right- I'm the mass texter, the one who sends five long texts in a row all on different topics, the person you HATE to respond to. I just love to text though- it let's me talk to my friends all the time. I always have something to say, either a bible verse, a joke, funny situation, whatever. I would hate to be out of contact, it makes me feel so alone. We're never truly alone, but still, it's an uncomfortable notion, to feel alone. Some people prefer it; I am not in that group. 
        Back to Skype: true fact, I hardly ever use the webcam. I don't have a fancy laptop with a webcam built in, I have a webcam that you have to attach. (If you had been wondering, I think that should answer your MAC/PC question.) I hate having to set it up, so I usually prefer to chat. Also, I hate looking at myself on the screen; I tend to start to use it as a mirror. It is quite ridiculous.  I am, however, a HUGE fan of the chat function. I could do that all day. You can chat with so many people at one time, and you can even leave them messages! It's just really, really great. 
        What's weird is though, sometimes people add me on Skype that I don't really know. I know who they are, but I have no idea how they know me. ( I'm not going to lie, I also do this to people I think seem really great.) They add me, but then they never chat me. If I didn't always feel like such a creeper, I would totally chat with anyone it would let me. I love to make new friends. (SENDING SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES. ADD ME ON SKYPE.) 
       Alright, enough of this tech talk; this is almost as nerdy as my love of google chrome. Today, I went to the school talent show; or better yet, the school voice recital, with a couple other people who do something musical related. 
       Have you ever noticed that? That when people talk about talents, people assume it has to be something musical related? I wonder why that is. Also, it interests me how many people think they are musically inclined when they really are not. If you don't actually posses the talent to be a good singer/musician, is it really that big of a deal? Talent's don't have to be stuff that makes you look awesome, they can just be things you're good at, like math and basketball. ( Two talent's I wish I had.) 
         I guess I really can't be talking; I'm one that you would classify as "musically inclined." I sing, play piano, snare, marimba, but none of these very well. Except, I do play a mean cowbell. You always need more cowbell.  
      At the winter talent show, along with singing and drumming, there was also dancing. This was my favorite part, other than the boys who rapped. [ One was a human beat box, he literally auto tuned himself. It was phenomenal. ] There were your standard jazz-trying-to-be-hip-hop dances, but you would be surprised how talented my fellow classmates really are. My friend Gracie performed a mean hula- how she can get her booty to shake that way is beyond me. Hula is something they do not teach you while playing Kinect. Along with jazz and hula, we even had the viewing pleasure of burlesque, or as my friend Erica calls it, "soft core porn". It involved four girls, chairs, and an r&b one hit wonder. It is exactly what you're thinking. Though not my cup of tea, you have to appreciate their self confidence. They did something I could never do.  
       My life has turned into friend dates. {FRIEND DATES- time one on one with a close friend, or group of friends. You do exactly what you would not do on dates, and with no romantic involvement.} My friends get me- they also appreciate staying home to watch TV, sleep, play video games/Facebook and Skype/chat roulette as a good day well spent. We do get out- we're not moles. However, with work schedules and teenage laziness, we usually just hang out at other people's houses. I can't help it- I'm a bum.  
        Friend dates our essential in a good friendship. It sounds cliche, but hanging out in big groups going places all the time, it's kind of hard to grow one on one relationships with people. "Friendships that last a lifetime". I guess that goes back to what I was saying about loneliness; you get out of it what you put into it. It can backfire on you, though; you can become overzealous. Instead of drawing people near, you repel them. I can have that problem if I don't keep it in check. We all kind of fall into one of the two categories; unless you're just really, really great. Which undoubtedly, you are. :) 
       I actually have a friend date tomorrow with my lovely friend Rod at ten in the morning. (Why I agreed to let it be that early, I have no idea.) I'm pretty sure it will involve a lot of webcam use, just dance, and Andy Samberg. I'm ecstatic; I think it's going to be a really fun day.  
        Speaking of friend dates, me and three of my best friends (Erica, Rod, and Audrey) have entered a contest to win the ultimate friend date! We are BIG fans of Saturday Night Live; I even own the Lonely Island CD. Our local radio station is holding a contest in honor of Martin Luther King Jr. day, where you submit your dream and they will grant as many of them as possible. One of our dreams has been to actually see SNL live, and would love to all see it before we go our separate ways for University. (Audrey to Colorado, Rod to College Station/Denton, Erica to Austin/Lubbock/California, and me to Fayetteville.) It just would be the coolest thing ever to see SNL LIVE, in New York City. I've been there twice, but it gets better every time I go. 
      Now, I'm not very lucky; I don't usually win things, get the dream guy, the perfect score, etc. However, I'm feeling good about this. All four of us entered asking for the same thing, so hopefully our entries stand out. Who knows what's going to happen! I'll keep you updated. 


Keep your fingers crossed for us! 


Until the band aids,
Olive :)

Some Clarifications

   To quote the movie Flipped- "Read this, without prejudice." 

  I didn't realize that this blog was going to be read by so many people. I guess I should have expected this, since I did post it on a couple close confidante's Facebook walls. As I posted in my last blog, we all creep. So, before I go on blogging my life, let's clear some things up. 

One. Nickname's are a privilege. 

  Not everyone calls me Olive- to be honest, at first, I did not like it. However, like Vampire Weekend, it began to grow on me. It became something I learned to appreciate, and I share with people I deem worthy. At this point, I think of you guys as friends, but this is my life. Feel free to judge it if you so desire, I can't stop you. I can, however, just choose not to tell you. Depends how much my friendship is worth to you- I won't be offended either way.  

Two. I have angst. 

   I'm not going to apologize for being seventeen- why should I apologize for something we all experience? I'm going to most definently be insecure about my outward looks- I'm a sinner and vanity is a sin. I can't escape what I was born as; however, I can try to stop it. I crush on boys and do silly things, but there is more to me than just that. Do not dilute yourself in saying all you do is party, date, and play. We all know that deep down there is more to you than that.  Just like there is more to me. I believe we are created after our Heavenly Father, that is, our heart's and mind's I mean. That is what's most important about a person, and no matter what brouhaha I say, that is what is most important to me. Who you are on the inside, is what makes and break your true beauty. Or so I believe.  

Three.  Don't ask. 

    I mean, you can ask. You can ponder, wonder, plot, and plan. I mean, I am asking for it- I'm putting my life out on the computer, the world wide web. However, sometimes, it's better not to know everything about a person. So I won't ever use real names. If you can figure out who I am talking about, bravo. Even if you're correct, I won't tell you. I'll probably post pictures of me and my friends and my life on here, and maybe you'll figure it out that way. As for me, though,  I won't spill the beans.  

Four. Who am I?  

        I know vaguely who I am- a teenage girl, a high school senior, a follower of the King of Kings, naive, wise, contradictory, funny, silly, and smart. I can be mean, but I try to be nice. I try to be good, but I know I'll be bad. However, I know what I would like to be; and i guess the best way to I can describe it is through this quote: 

"Luckily I didn't have to answer. He just grinned and said, "Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss...." He turned to me. "But every once in a while you find someone who's iridescent, and when you do, nothing will ever compare."

Salutations.

   My name is Olive. Now obviously, this is not my real name. It is a nick name I'm using in no intention to conceal my identity, because a nickname like Olive can quite easily be traced back to it's original source. I quite honestly just prefer it. My friend's gave it to me back in the fifth grade, and much like my Valley Girl voice, I haven't quite been able to shake it.  
   Life is traumatic for the average seventeen year old girl. That alone would be comforting, if I resembled something average. Instead, you get a high school senior who has never had a boyfriend, is leaving for college in eight months, and has so much high school life left to live. Also, I strive to serve my Creator every day, and I often do a right job of muddling it up. Plus, boys are really cute and I'm not cute enough. If I could add to my plate, i'll utter this audacity: Pre-Calculus. (shudder) 
   I promise I'm not a Debbie Downer in life. I prefer to live it glass half full, and accept all my quirks for what they are. This blog is just me telling my life and all that happens in it. So without further ado, I give to you the humorous, accidentally intellectual, snarky, wreaking of adolescence, but quite entertaining: The Olive Blog.  

Finals Week   

   Can you smell that? That's the smell of victory. Yes, it's true; with the exception of the dreaded Pre-Cal, I, Olive, have earned exemption from her final exam's this week. Basically to be exempt, you have to have only two absences in nine weeks and an 85 semester average. Plus, the absences for seniors on finals day (if you're exempt) will not count against last nine weeks OR next nine weeks absences so that means..... NO SCHOOL TILL TUESDAY. HalleuYUHHHH TRICK. That gives me plenty of time to go to work (and earn more money), watch TV, read my English book that is due Tuesday [SIDE NOTE: I don't mind reading, but if I knew The Odyssey was going to be this lame, I wouldn't have picked it. Definently not as good as I remember it freshmen year.] hang with friends, sleep, and text more often.  

  That doesn't sound too thrilling, as opposed to going clubbing or hobnobbing at some swank party. It's not like we don't have those opportunities here- it's just not really my scene. My friends and I prefer to go Cosmic Bowling and risk ruining our North Face jackets with cigarette stench in favor of gutter balls and "bro photos." {BRO PHOTO- a picture where a girl who has no romantic interest in a group of "bros" ,is allowed to take a photo with said bros, thus BECOMING a bro. It is a great honor.}  

    Though we are not poor, we aren't made of money either. So when we don't have the green to spend wining and dining ourselves, we resort to Facebook. Countless fun can be found there by chatting, playing IT Girl and other asinine Facebook games, posting videos, and creeping. 

    Ahh, Creeping. Why people pretend to be appalled that I creep is beyond me. EVERYONE creeps (note to young kids- be wary what you post... EVERYONE WILL see it.) Creeping though, is how I discover many of my "boyfriends". {"boyfriend"- when in lower case and with quote marks, it is not anybody's REAL boyfriend, but merely someone you have a crush on, and you carry on annoying your friends with chatter about how they're you're boyfriend. A single girl's only solace.} Out of these "boyfriends" though, I have had some real life crushes emerge- the Unattainable, the All Star, Best Friend, Dream Crusher, and most recently, Potential Soul Mate. Let's talk about PSM, since he is most recent. 

     PSM is my friend's older brother. He is only one year older than me, but that means he's in college, and also, he is MY FRIEND'S OLDER BROTHER. Is it my fault he is so cute, has the same music taste as me, the same sense of humor as me, is picky like me, plays the piano, and has the ultimate bro style that I go crazy for? {BRO STYLE- total bro; known to wear fitted hats, basketball shorts, Nike socks and slip on sandals, tshirts, hoodies, sometimes jeans, but when they clean up, they are not afraid to break out that button down.} Plus, he loves Jesus. OH MY GOODNESS, can someone slap me with a brick of love?! 

   Obviously, he is way too gorgeous and beautiful to ever be my boyfriend. My friends all say that is not true. That I am beautiful, a natural beauty. Blah Blah Blah. Here's the secret- until earlier this year, I used to be fat. ( I weigh 140 now, which is NOT FAT. It is AVERAGE for being 5'4.... you guys need to get your realities checked. ) White fat girls come with what I like to call Fat Girl Confidence. Which basically means... I don't have any. At all. It is so sad, and pathetic-I know. Every time I look in the mirror though, all i see is fat, my big nose, and squinty eyes. 

    Don't be deceived though- I know what's most important. " ... for the Lord looks at the heart...." I try to always be honest, funny, smart, and I am really nice. So much so, I sometimes get taken advantage of... but I'm lucky to have true friends who are not afraid to call someone out and beat them up for me- with their words. True ladies can fight with their eyes. ;) I always stand up for what I believe in, and don't cuss. ( Though, I do like to sing Lonely Island songs in the car... when no one is around of course!) Gag. I sound like a goody good loser. Maybe I am. What of it? I'm not afraid to punch a *itch if someone I love needs defending.  That's what you call a classy lady. 

    ANYWAYS- I have been stalking PSM for weeks now. He knows who I am of course... how, I don't know. Today though, he posted on my wall. I think he was playing some cruel joke though, because when I got back on Facebook tonight after church, he was in a relationship! What a joke. I have to be honest though, it's kind of a relief. 

    You see, I'm not like most girls. Whenever someone I like is single, I try and try my hardest to flirt (though I'm very bad and don't know how, so it basically means I don't talk to them and do masses of wishful thinking) and get them to like me as fast as possible, because obviously someone as great as them won't be on the market for long. However, once they do enter said relationship, which I knew they'd be in all along, I immediately  stop liking them- just like that. Picture, if you will, a giant switch, the one that has the handle that sticks out that evil scientists use; when I have a crush on someone, it is flipped on. BUT, as soon as I discover they are in a relationship, it flicks off. Just like that. I could never like someone else's man- that is cruel. Obviously, I want my future soul mate to be desirable, but to find out someone was pursuing him? That is just wrong. Leave that to the dirty skanks on Jersey Shore and Taylor Swift. 

     It is truly alot of work, getting someone to like you. I'm told you shouldn't HAVE to get a boy to pursue you, but I haven't exactly seen any boy knocking down my door to tell me how beautiful I am. If he did, he'd probably be 5'7 with acne and a cow lick. Sad day, I don't even attract those kind of boys.  Oh well... I hear college is a whole other playing field. I mean, I've waited this long... 

       That's pretty much it for today. I promise, my life is not all boy drama. I have a lot more to tell you, plus so many exciting things are happening. There is never a dull moment. I can't wait to fill you guys in soon!!! 

Love you guys. Be safe. Don't do drugs and drink- but if you do, don't jive. Look both ways, practice safe breath. Eat your fruits but forget your vegetables.
Love Always, 

Olive :)