Schroedinger, Erwin! Professor of physics!
Wrote daring equations! Confounded his critics!
(Not bad, eh? Don't worry. This part of the verse
Starts off pretty good, but it gets a lot worse.)
Win saw that the theory that Newton'd invented
By Einstein's discov'ries had been badly dented.
What now? wailed his colleagues. Said Erwin, "Don't panic,
No grease monkey I, but a quantum mechanic.
Consider electrons. Now, these teeny articles
Are sometimes like waves, and then sometimes like particles.
If that's not confusing, the nuclear dance
Of electrons and suchlike is governed by chance!
No sweat, though — my theory permits us to judge
Where some of 'em is and the rest of 'em was."
Not everyone bought this. It threatened to wreck
The comforting linkage of cause and effect.
E'en Einstein had doubts, and so Schroedinger tried
To tell him what quantum mechanics implied.
Said Win to Al, "Brother, suppose we've a cat,
And inside a tube we have put that cat at —
Along with a solitaire deck and some Fritos,
A bottle of Night Train, a couple mosquitoes
(Or something else rhyming) and, oh, if you got 'em,
One vial prussic acid, one decaying ottom
Or atom — whatever — but when it emits,
A trigger device blasts the vial into bits
Which snuffs our poor kitty. The odds of this crime
Are 50 to 50 per hour each time.
The cylinder's sealed. The hour's passed away. Is
Our pussy still purring — or pushing up daisies?
Now, you'd say the cat either lives or it don't
But quantum mechanics is stubborn and won't.
Statistically speaking, the cat (goes the joke),
Is half a cat breathing and half a cat croaked.
To some this may seem a ridiculous split,
But quantum mechanics must answer, "Tough shit.
We may not know much, but one thing's fo' sho':
There's things in the cosmos that we cannot know.
Shine light on electrons — you'll cause them to swerve.
The act of observing disturbs the observed —
Which ruins your test. But then if there's no testing
To see if a particle's moving or resting
Why try to conjecture? Pure useless endeavor!
We know probability — certainty, never.'
The effect of this notion? I very much fear
'Twill make doubtful all things that were formerly clear.
Till soon the cat doctors will say in reports,
"We've just flipped a coin and we've learned he's a corpse."'
So saith Herr Erwin. Quoth Albert, "You're nuts.
God doesn't play dice with the universe, putz.
I'll prove it!" he said, and the Lord knows he tried —
In vain — until fin'ly he more or less died.
Win spoke at the funeral: "Listen, dear friends,
Sweet Al was my buddy. I must make amends.
Though he doubted my theory, I'll say of this saint:
Ten-to-one he's in heaven — but five bucks says he ain't."
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Why I Want to Teach
I find that when I tell people I want to teach, I usually get weird stares or people ask me, "why?" They look at me kind of the way I look at math problems and ranch dressing. My usual response is, "Well, when you still count on your fingers, you don't have a lot of options." That's a pretty lame reason, right? Yeah, I think so, too.
So why do I want to teach? Well, it's kind of a long story.
I grew up in foster homes, and if you know anything about foster children, then you know that there is a stigma that surrounds them. And trust me, it's not a good one. You see, people believe that being in the foster care system means that you're a "bad kid" or that, because you "obviously had bad parents" that you'll grow up to do absolutely nothing with your life. Well, yeah, there are bad seeds in the foster care system, but that's true of every demographic. But it IS true that most foster children grew up with rough home lives. So they probably already feel pretty crappy about themselves. I know I did. So when you tell them they can't do it, they believe you. I went through elementary and middle school with a 4.0 GPA and still felt like crap. A retired English teacher told me I should go into the profession, but I ignored her. I knew that I was smart, but who cared? As a foster kid, my life didn't mean anything, so why bother. I got adopted while I was in middle school, but my new parents also believed that foster kids were bad seeds. When I got to high school, my GPA began to drop and I stopped caring. Now, mind you, it didn't drop a lot (it went to about a 3.5) but it was significant enough that people started noticing. Nobody wanted to be in my group because I wasn't the "smart girl" anymore. And then my sophomore year of high school came and I got a new English teacher. Man, that woman was something else! She wore sparkly shoes and clothes and she was WAYYYY too upbeat for a teacher. I mean, I thought most teachers were dead souls who hated their jobs. But she was AWESOME. She took a liking to me (God knows why) and took me under her wing. She praised my work when I wrote papers and even had me proofread my peers'. And then she told me I could do anything I wanted. Now, I know that that's what most people hear as little kids. They can be the president or an astronaut or a doctor. But that was the first time anyone had ever said that to me. And it hit me hard. I could be anything I wanted. I was skilled at writing papers and correcting grammar. Maybe I couldn't do math, but I wasn't stupid. She kept telling me, over and over, that I could do anything that I wanted to. And slowly, I began to believe it. But what was I going to do? Believing you can do anything and actually doing it are very different. I knew I couldn't do anything math related, even though the pay would be higher, because I'd be fired the minute they saw me count on my fingers. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought about my teacher. She had changed my life. And then I thought about all of the kids, like myself, who didn't have anyone cheering them on. I thought about the kids who sat in a classroom every day, and the only reason they were failing was because someone told them that, no matter how hard they tried, they wouldn't amount to anything. I thought about that and I made the decision, at the end of my sophomore year, to become an educator. Because I realized that it's so much more than standardized tests and benchmarks. It's more than droning on and on about something that students only listen to because it's the law. Educators are more than teachers. Educators are cheerleaders. They're voices for the kids who feel like they don't get a voice.They're an ear to lend when a student thinks nobody else is listening. Educators are the people who spend countless hours planning classes that are going to improve someone else's future. They're the ones trying not to take home with them the stories of their students' home lives that reduce them to tears. Educators are unsung heroes. They do what they do and they don't demand thanks or recognition. They take what they're good at and use it to improve someone else's life. They spend their days trying to brighten someone else's. They are life changers.
And that's why I want to teach.
So why do I want to teach? Well, it's kind of a long story.
I grew up in foster homes, and if you know anything about foster children, then you know that there is a stigma that surrounds them. And trust me, it's not a good one. You see, people believe that being in the foster care system means that you're a "bad kid" or that, because you "obviously had bad parents" that you'll grow up to do absolutely nothing with your life. Well, yeah, there are bad seeds in the foster care system, but that's true of every demographic. But it IS true that most foster children grew up with rough home lives. So they probably already feel pretty crappy about themselves. I know I did. So when you tell them they can't do it, they believe you. I went through elementary and middle school with a 4.0 GPA and still felt like crap. A retired English teacher told me I should go into the profession, but I ignored her. I knew that I was smart, but who cared? As a foster kid, my life didn't mean anything, so why bother. I got adopted while I was in middle school, but my new parents also believed that foster kids were bad seeds. When I got to high school, my GPA began to drop and I stopped caring. Now, mind you, it didn't drop a lot (it went to about a 3.5) but it was significant enough that people started noticing. Nobody wanted to be in my group because I wasn't the "smart girl" anymore. And then my sophomore year of high school came and I got a new English teacher. Man, that woman was something else! She wore sparkly shoes and clothes and she was WAYYYY too upbeat for a teacher. I mean, I thought most teachers were dead souls who hated their jobs. But she was AWESOME. She took a liking to me (God knows why) and took me under her wing. She praised my work when I wrote papers and even had me proofread my peers'. And then she told me I could do anything I wanted. Now, I know that that's what most people hear as little kids. They can be the president or an astronaut or a doctor. But that was the first time anyone had ever said that to me. And it hit me hard. I could be anything I wanted. I was skilled at writing papers and correcting grammar. Maybe I couldn't do math, but I wasn't stupid. She kept telling me, over and over, that I could do anything that I wanted to. And slowly, I began to believe it. But what was I going to do? Believing you can do anything and actually doing it are very different. I knew I couldn't do anything math related, even though the pay would be higher, because I'd be fired the minute they saw me count on my fingers. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought about my teacher. She had changed my life. And then I thought about all of the kids, like myself, who didn't have anyone cheering them on. I thought about the kids who sat in a classroom every day, and the only reason they were failing was because someone told them that, no matter how hard they tried, they wouldn't amount to anything. I thought about that and I made the decision, at the end of my sophomore year, to become an educator. Because I realized that it's so much more than standardized tests and benchmarks. It's more than droning on and on about something that students only listen to because it's the law. Educators are more than teachers. Educators are cheerleaders. They're voices for the kids who feel like they don't get a voice.They're an ear to lend when a student thinks nobody else is listening. Educators are the people who spend countless hours planning classes that are going to improve someone else's future. They're the ones trying not to take home with them the stories of their students' home lives that reduce them to tears. Educators are unsung heroes. They do what they do and they don't demand thanks or recognition. They take what they're good at and use it to improve someone else's life. They spend their days trying to brighten someone else's. They are life changers.
And that's why I want to teach.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
On Going to College and Being Employed
In just a few short days, I'm going to be moving into my dorm room and beginning my college classes. Yesterday, I started my first day of job training. I will be working in the newspaper office for my respective university. At first, I was really kind of nervous. However, yesterday went really well and I woke up in a very good mood this morning. I was excited to come back, and not just because of the money. I like my coworkers in the front office and the two, I suppose they are supervisors (I'm not sure what their titles are...), are incredibly nice and easy to get along with.
What is really weird is that I never imagined myself as the kind of person that could happily sit at a desk and wait for the phone to ring so I can make a classified ad (even though M answers the phone first!) but it turns out that I am. I am perfectly content at my little desk space.
I'd be lying if I said that I am not even the least bit nervous about actual college, though. I know that my job can't be my biggest focus- my grades have to come first if I want to keep my scholarships. I can only hope that my classes aren't too hard and that I can wake up with the same enthusiasm for class that I have for job training. And I know that I need to find a balance with working and class and studying. Fortunately, my class and work schedules work nicely together. Wednesdays I don't work at all, Tuesday and Thursday I only work mornings and I'm done relatively early on Monday and Friday. That leaves a good bit of time ever evening for studying as well as weekends.
I also understand the importance of having an active social life so I am not entirely stressed out over class and work. I've joined two clubs (sorta) that I might have to take seriously if I start getting too stressed out. But I also need a study plan. I definitely need to make sure that I am reading my class syllabus and keeping up with what is going on. Also, if I have time, I would like to try to stay a little ahead of the game so that I'm not cramming for finals in December.
The more I think about it, the less worried I am. I wasn't the best at studying or focusing or balancing my time in high school. In fact, I was just plain awful at all of the aforementioned things, as well as organizing and keeping my priorities straight. However, I firmly believe that if I set my mind to something, I can do it and nothing can stop me. So that's what I am banking on this semester.
I also have a few other goals that I want to keep in mind and work on this fall. I want to start living healthier- I want to cut out sodas and eat less desserts. I'd also like to spend some time working out or swimming, at least, on days when my classes are fewer and further apart.
Anyway, back to work!
Love,
Amber ♥
What is really weird is that I never imagined myself as the kind of person that could happily sit at a desk and wait for the phone to ring so I can make a classified ad (even though M answers the phone first!) but it turns out that I am. I am perfectly content at my little desk space.
I'd be lying if I said that I am not even the least bit nervous about actual college, though. I know that my job can't be my biggest focus- my grades have to come first if I want to keep my scholarships. I can only hope that my classes aren't too hard and that I can wake up with the same enthusiasm for class that I have for job training. And I know that I need to find a balance with working and class and studying. Fortunately, my class and work schedules work nicely together. Wednesdays I don't work at all, Tuesday and Thursday I only work mornings and I'm done relatively early on Monday and Friday. That leaves a good bit of time ever evening for studying as well as weekends.
I also understand the importance of having an active social life so I am not entirely stressed out over class and work. I've joined two clubs (sorta) that I might have to take seriously if I start getting too stressed out. But I also need a study plan. I definitely need to make sure that I am reading my class syllabus and keeping up with what is going on. Also, if I have time, I would like to try to stay a little ahead of the game so that I'm not cramming for finals in December.
The more I think about it, the less worried I am. I wasn't the best at studying or focusing or balancing my time in high school. In fact, I was just plain awful at all of the aforementioned things, as well as organizing and keeping my priorities straight. However, I firmly believe that if I set my mind to something, I can do it and nothing can stop me. So that's what I am banking on this semester.
I also have a few other goals that I want to keep in mind and work on this fall. I want to start living healthier- I want to cut out sodas and eat less desserts. I'd also like to spend some time working out or swimming, at least, on days when my classes are fewer and further apart.
Anyway, back to work!
Love,
Amber ♥
Friday, April 24, 2015
Late Night Blog Post
To be honest, I don't have anything important to say. I'm sitting here waiting for my boyfriend to get here and it's getting pretty late and I'm exhausted and probably should have napped earlier today. But such is life, right? I hoped he would get here at about.... 9ish, but he didn't even leave until almost 7, so that wasn't feasible.
I really need a nap, man. My head feels wonky. And South Park is on the telly and I don't even like that show, but I am too tired to change the channel so I'm just letting it play as white noise. Ya know what I mean?
But the real question with evolution is why do men have nipples? I mean, it's not like they NEED them. Why do we still have tail bones? They're absolutely useless. And yeah, I mean, I get that they aren't hindering our ability to reproduce or anything, but if you hurt your tail bone, it really stinkin' hurts!
They say that the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything is 42, but if we're being completely honest, that doesn't answer the basic fundamental question at the root of all human angst: do pigeons have feelings?
Welp, just found out that he won't be here until after midnight, so I might just go ahead and cry a bit and get some sleep and do whatever it is sad girls do.
Laters, baby.
I really need a nap, man. My head feels wonky. And South Park is on the telly and I don't even like that show, but I am too tired to change the channel so I'm just letting it play as white noise. Ya know what I mean?
But the real question with evolution is why do men have nipples? I mean, it's not like they NEED them. Why do we still have tail bones? They're absolutely useless. And yeah, I mean, I get that they aren't hindering our ability to reproduce or anything, but if you hurt your tail bone, it really stinkin' hurts!
They say that the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything is 42, but if we're being completely honest, that doesn't answer the basic fundamental question at the root of all human angst: do pigeons have feelings?
Welp, just found out that he won't be here until after midnight, so I might just go ahead and cry a bit and get some sleep and do whatever it is sad girls do.
Laters, baby.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Tumblr. Bio: My Senior Poem
Amber. 18.
West Virginia.
Indie music and Death Metal.
Welcome to this special part of my mind.
Professional Shade Thrower.
Perpetually inactive.
That's kind of a thing.
Or nah.
I'm totes white
But I identify
As a Walgreens gift card.
Whovian.
I follow back.
Surprisingly, I have a boyfriend.
*11.25.14*
West Virginia.
Indie music and Death Metal.
Welcome to this special part of my mind.
Professional Shade Thrower.
Perpetually inactive.
That's kind of a thing.
Or nah.
I'm totes white
But I identify
As a Walgreens gift card.
Whovian.
I follow back.
Surprisingly, I have a boyfriend.
*11.25.14*
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
A Long Winded Post that is a Good Example of Why High School Sucks
There is one very important fact about me that I think everybody needs to understand: I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend whom I love more than life itself and I would never, EVER do anything to hurt him or lose him or even remotely jeopardize my relationship with him. There is not a single person on this Earth that is worth losing him over. Which brings me to my next point.
I have a friend. I have a very good friend who I have been friends with since I moved here. I can easily say that he's my best friend, and because of that fact, I tend to spend a lot of time with him at school. I mean, I don't really have a LOT of friends, so I might as well hang out with the ones I do, right? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not with this friend every waking minute of the school day, and even when we are spending time together IT IS AS FRIENDS. Anyway, that's my spiel about my best friend. Next point...
There is someone at this school that has a romantic interest in my friend, and that's great. I mean, everybody likes someone, right?!? Naturally. Now, this individual has never spoken to me before, but I have it on good authority that this person talks about me. A lot. And not in a positive manner anyway. A lot of this has to do with the fact that this person likes my friend. He liked this person as well, until clinginess became an issue. And then, when he found out that this person was being rude to me and talking about me, he told said individual to leave him alone. (Gotta give him props for having priorities: his friends). He told the individual that whatever "flirtationship" they had needed to stop, because it was upsetting a lot of people, the individual included. SOMETHING IMPORTANT FOR YOU ALL TO UNDERSTAND: I did NOT ask my friend to say any of that. His flirtationship with that individual did NOT bother me or make me jealous. I mean, obviously, I stood by my friend's side when he was getting tired of everything that was going on. But now, I am the bad guy. And that brings me to my next point.
I have another friend who is up my butt and telling me I need to work things out with the aforementioned individual, because hanging out with my best friend is UPSETTING her and so that means I am "wrong" for doing it. WHICH IS RIDICULOUS. And so now it has come to my knowledge that they are both saying less than nice things about me, and it seems like now my best friend is ALSO upset with me and I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING WRONG SO SOMEBODY HELP ME OUT, MAN BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON OR WHAT TO DO.
I have a friend. I have a very good friend who I have been friends with since I moved here. I can easily say that he's my best friend, and because of that fact, I tend to spend a lot of time with him at school. I mean, I don't really have a LOT of friends, so I might as well hang out with the ones I do, right? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not with this friend every waking minute of the school day, and even when we are spending time together IT IS AS FRIENDS. Anyway, that's my spiel about my best friend. Next point...
There is someone at this school that has a romantic interest in my friend, and that's great. I mean, everybody likes someone, right?!? Naturally. Now, this individual has never spoken to me before, but I have it on good authority that this person talks about me. A lot. And not in a positive manner anyway. A lot of this has to do with the fact that this person likes my friend. He liked this person as well, until clinginess became an issue. And then, when he found out that this person was being rude to me and talking about me, he told said individual to leave him alone. (Gotta give him props for having priorities: his friends). He told the individual that whatever "flirtationship" they had needed to stop, because it was upsetting a lot of people, the individual included. SOMETHING IMPORTANT FOR YOU ALL TO UNDERSTAND: I did NOT ask my friend to say any of that. His flirtationship with that individual did NOT bother me or make me jealous. I mean, obviously, I stood by my friend's side when he was getting tired of everything that was going on. But now, I am the bad guy. And that brings me to my next point.
I have another friend who is up my butt and telling me I need to work things out with the aforementioned individual, because hanging out with my best friend is UPSETTING her and so that means I am "wrong" for doing it. WHICH IS RIDICULOUS. And so now it has come to my knowledge that they are both saying less than nice things about me, and it seems like now my best friend is ALSO upset with me and I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING WRONG SO SOMEBODY HELP ME OUT, MAN BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON OR WHAT TO DO.
Monday, April 13, 2015
A Reply to Jacoby's Love Poem
Passion is that of a brook that is dried
I really want your organs deep fried
Fishing is your love, but people are mine
I'll saute your liver with onions and wine
Your screaming and crying, like a melodic beat
I'll laugh as I cut you and turn up the heat
A dash of salt, a pinch of paprika
I toss in your legs and I scream, "Eureka!"
One special night changed us forever
I bit off your finger, you said, "Eh, whatever!"
No burger, no chicken could sate my desire
To pluck out your eyeballs and set you on fire
From your supple nips to your soft skin
From your fluffy lips to your double chin
I can imagine your body, covered in sweat
And oil, and vinegar, and soy sauce: dripping wet
Forever and ever, I wish you would stay
I'll freeze your leftovers, no one can take you away
Your hands in the oven, I wonder what's next
I can slice you and dice you and mix you with Chex
Your flesh will last forever until it is no more
And all your blood is drunk and all your toes are stored
Passion is that of a brook that is dried
I really want your organs deep fried
I really want your organs deep fried
Fishing is your love, but people are mine
I'll saute your liver with onions and wine
Your screaming and crying, like a melodic beat
I'll laugh as I cut you and turn up the heat
A dash of salt, a pinch of paprika
I toss in your legs and I scream, "Eureka!"
One special night changed us forever
I bit off your finger, you said, "Eh, whatever!"
No burger, no chicken could sate my desire
To pluck out your eyeballs and set you on fire
From your supple nips to your soft skin
From your fluffy lips to your double chin
I can imagine your body, covered in sweat
And oil, and vinegar, and soy sauce: dripping wet
Forever and ever, I wish you would stay
I'll freeze your leftovers, no one can take you away
Your hands in the oven, I wonder what's next
I can slice you and dice you and mix you with Chex
Your flesh will last forever until it is no more
And all your blood is drunk and all your toes are stored
Passion is that of a brook that is dried
I really want your organs deep fried
A Love Poem from Jacoby
Passion is that of a babbling brook
*This statement is that of the author's. I, in no way, believe that people "go gay".
Flowing and trembling like my heart that you took
Fishing is my love, but you've shown me there's more
You caught me as yours more than any lure
Your giggle and blushing causes my heart to skip a beat
But us together, we can conquer any feat
Giving up on our love is not of my nature or being
When I'm in the mall or plaza you're the only gal I'll be seeing
One special night changed us forever
The good, the bad, I want to be with you through every endeavor
No trout, bass or musky can ever quench my thirst
Like the moment we made love for the very first
From your soft eyes to your easy soul
I'll provide for you always, you will never have to work the pole
You understand my actions and my way
So lucky to have you, you're the catch of the day
Forever and ever I wish to stay
You as my lover, I'll never go gay*
My hand in yours, what will be next
A ring, a church, that's what U must get off my chest
Our love will last forever like the ocean blue
When you say yes it's time to screw
Passion is that of a babbling brook
Flowing and trembling like my heart that you took
*This statement is that of the author's. I, in no way, believe that people "go gay".
Friday, March 27, 2015
A Rejection Poem by Samson Cropper
I like the way you talk
But I love the way your booty moves when you walk
However, I love your eyes
But I don't agree with your lies
You and I would not be delight
You can't handle my might
I don't have a bromance
Or want a romance
I might be talented with a bat and ball
But I don't care, I would let you fall
I suck at snow boarding and skiing
I'd rather see you bleeding
I hate books and your looks
I hope you get stabbed with hooks
The only fact that I know
Is that you are just a scary ho
I'd rather smoke a joint
Than see people point
People won't agree
I'd rather be poor with no green or degree
My booty is better
Even though you write better letters
Sorry you aren't my type
Why don't you just take a hike
But I love the way your booty moves when you walk
However, I love your eyes
But I don't agree with your lies
You and I would not be delight
You can't handle my might
I don't have a bromance
Or want a romance
I might be talented with a bat and ball
But I don't care, I would let you fall
I suck at snow boarding and skiing
I'd rather see you bleeding
I hate books and your looks
I hope you get stabbed with hooks
The only fact that I know
Is that you are just a scary ho
I'd rather smoke a joint
Than see people point
People won't agree
I'd rather be poor with no green or degree
My booty is better
Even though you write better letters
Sorry you aren't my type
Why don't you just take a hike
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
A Love Poem
My truest love
Your eyes sparkle like my
Dog's poop
That time he ate my keys
Your hair is
Curly and wild like the
Cat hair
I pulled out of the vacuum
Your laugh is
Loud and rumbles like an
Old car
With a failing engine
On the side of the road
Your skin is
So soft, like the warm
Flesh of
A newly shorn sheep
And our love
Is so alive, like my
Baby alligator
Two hours before his tragic demise
I love you.
Your eyes sparkle like my
Dog's poop
That time he ate my keys
Your hair is
Curly and wild like the
Cat hair
I pulled out of the vacuum
Your laugh is
Loud and rumbles like an
Old car
With a failing engine
On the side of the road
Your skin is
So soft, like the warm
Flesh of
A newly shorn sheep
And our love
Is so alive, like my
Baby alligator
Two hours before his tragic demise
I love you.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Let You In: A Poem
What if I say that I’ve lost all hope?
That
I’ve given up on everything in this life?
And
what if I say that it’s entirely your fault
Because
you were the one who pushed me?
What if I say that I am still searching?
Because
I don’t know where I belong?
And
what if I say that I may never find
The
only thing that may save me?
What if I say that I’m living a lie?
And
all that I’m doing is trying to hide
The
person that I really am?
That
you may never know?
What if I say that I’m tired of trying?
To
be someone I know that I can’t?
And
what if I say that I’m dying?
To
let you in on the truth?
What if I say that it’s over?
It’s
time for the secrets to end?
I’ve
waited for this scary day
When
I finally let you in.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Dear Self,
It's important that you learn something. And for your sake, learn it quickly. People will always, without a doubt, let you down. Without fail, even the most trustworthy people will disappoint you. Learn to be happy by yourself and not need anyone. Get comfortable being alone, because that's how you're going to be spending 98% of your life. By the time you're eighteen, you're going to be so fucked up that nobody will want you. By the time you are eighteen, you will have almost completely ruined the life of someone you loved, had your heart shattered by a guitar- playing boy who prefers sex to love, stressed out over your future, insulted most of your friends, learned another friend's deepest secret, cried over your weight, been in more than one foster home, feared for your life, considered taking your life, stopped a friend from taking his own life, lost that friend, alienated yourself, rejoined society, smoked, and most importantly, constantly wonder how your life would have been different if you hadn't done even just one of those things.
When I started this letter, I was upset and kind of angry. But I'm not at the moment. Listen, I wish I could tell you to not make those mistakes. I wish I could tell you that your life would be easier if you wouldn't do what I did. Believe me, though, you're going to make those mistakes and you're going to laugh and cry and smile and you're going to be terrified and happy beyond what you knew was possible. It's going to be rough, let me tell you. And you're going to make mistakes and then immediately wish you could go back in time and change them. However, it's important for you to know that it gets better. Because when you're eighteen, you have a new boyfriend. A wonderful guy who loves you and makes you happy and treats you right and would do anything for you. You're going to love him like you've never loved anyone. And you're going to get even closer to A.B. and you'll be accepted to that huge flagship university you've had your heart set on since you were fifteen. You'll get a scholarship and fill out your FAFSA without any trouble and you'll make new friends and T.A. will come back to your school and you'll have a blast at the U.B. Saturday Programs. You'll ask about working as a U.B. tutor for the summer and you'll get the blessing of F.B. who you thought hated you. You'll buy a prom dress and it will be a black, strapless dress that you love. And you'l go to Honor Band in February and your boyfriend will come the day of the concert and take you and M.S. to lunch and he'll wait for you while you get dressed and he will watch your concert. He'll buy you roses because it's Valentine's Day (you won't ever receive flowers from a guy until then) and a box of chocolate and some Magic cards because he really wants to be able to play Magic with you. You'll get closer to one of your adult (adultier than you, you silly eighteen year old) friends. You'll see a sixty degree Christmas and a huge flood in February followed by almost eight inches of snow.
The point I am trying to make here is that even though your life is going to suck for a while and you're going to make mistakes and you'll be scared and hurt and upset a lot, you need to make those mistakes. Because as I (eighteen year old you) type this letter, you need to know that your life is pretty great right now. You're in love and you're getting ready for prom and college. You've hit rock bottom. Now you've nowhere to go but up. So keep on keepin' on. Our future is waiting. :)
Love,
Amber <3
When I started this letter, I was upset and kind of angry. But I'm not at the moment. Listen, I wish I could tell you to not make those mistakes. I wish I could tell you that your life would be easier if you wouldn't do what I did. Believe me, though, you're going to make those mistakes and you're going to laugh and cry and smile and you're going to be terrified and happy beyond what you knew was possible. It's going to be rough, let me tell you. And you're going to make mistakes and then immediately wish you could go back in time and change them. However, it's important for you to know that it gets better. Because when you're eighteen, you have a new boyfriend. A wonderful guy who loves you and makes you happy and treats you right and would do anything for you. You're going to love him like you've never loved anyone. And you're going to get even closer to A.B. and you'll be accepted to that huge flagship university you've had your heart set on since you were fifteen. You'll get a scholarship and fill out your FAFSA without any trouble and you'll make new friends and T.A. will come back to your school and you'll have a blast at the U.B. Saturday Programs. You'll ask about working as a U.B. tutor for the summer and you'll get the blessing of F.B. who you thought hated you. You'll buy a prom dress and it will be a black, strapless dress that you love. And you'l go to Honor Band in February and your boyfriend will come the day of the concert and take you and M.S. to lunch and he'll wait for you while you get dressed and he will watch your concert. He'll buy you roses because it's Valentine's Day (you won't ever receive flowers from a guy until then) and a box of chocolate and some Magic cards because he really wants to be able to play Magic with you. You'll get closer to one of your adult (adultier than you, you silly eighteen year old) friends. You'll see a sixty degree Christmas and a huge flood in February followed by almost eight inches of snow.
The point I am trying to make here is that even though your life is going to suck for a while and you're going to make mistakes and you'll be scared and hurt and upset a lot, you need to make those mistakes. Because as I (eighteen year old you) type this letter, you need to know that your life is pretty great right now. You're in love and you're getting ready for prom and college. You've hit rock bottom. Now you've nowhere to go but up. So keep on keepin' on. Our future is waiting. :)
Love,
Amber <3
Darkness, My Friend
My friend
Coming to me
In my time of need
My hour of sorrow
In my hour
Of loneliness
Wrapping around me
A blanket of memories
An old friend
An embrace
Speaking to me
Telling me secrets
Sharing stories
Of betrayal
Suffocating me
Ending my sorrow
Safe from myself
The darkness
Thursday, January 29, 2015
You Belong With Me
I could take all of the tears
That I have cried today
And make myself a river
And start floating your way
I could take all of the thoughts
That I have had of you
And make with them a cloud
And float on down to you
I could take all of the smiles
For which you have been the cause
And the ones upon your face
That make my heart pause
And I could take all of the love
That you have given, I've received
And say without a single doubt
That you belong with me
That I have cried today
And make myself a river
And start floating your way
I could take all of the thoughts
That I have had of you
And make with them a cloud
And float on down to you
I could take all of the smiles
For which you have been the cause
And the ones upon your face
That make my heart pause
And I could take all of the love
That you have given, I've received
And say without a single doubt
That you belong with me
Friday, January 23, 2015
How to Get Away with Stuff in High School: A Step by Step Guide
Step 1: Cheat. Cheating will make your classmates hate you, but get you the grades you don't deserve. And you're all about entitlement, aren't you?
Step 2: Be a cheerleader or a football player. It's a scientific fact (in a poll I took) that you can get away with literally anything and everything if you are a cheerleader or a football player. Don't worry, your classmates will hate you for this, too. Don't have many friends? This is probably why.
Step 3: Have a parent who is a teacher. In another poll I took, it was proven that students who have parents who are teachers get away with non- teacher's children. But, once again, your classmates are going to hate you.
Step 4: Understand that it is going to eventually catch up to you. You're going to get caught. Hopefully in college, where cheating can get you kicked out of the class indefinitely.
Step 5: Stop trying to get away with things and just do the right thing. It honestly isn't that hard.
Step 2: Be a cheerleader or a football player. It's a scientific fact (in a poll I took) that you can get away with literally anything and everything if you are a cheerleader or a football player. Don't worry, your classmates will hate you for this, too. Don't have many friends? This is probably why.
Step 3: Have a parent who is a teacher. In another poll I took, it was proven that students who have parents who are teachers get away with non- teacher's children. But, once again, your classmates are going to hate you.
Step 4: Understand that it is going to eventually catch up to you. You're going to get caught. Hopefully in college, where cheating can get you kicked out of the class indefinitely.
Step 5: Stop trying to get away with things and just do the right thing. It honestly isn't that hard.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Clandestine Love, A Poem
Clandestine Love
A secret
Never to be told
To anyone.
A secret
Somehow is known
By everyone.
A love
Never expected
By them.
A love
Never quite hidden
From their friends.
A lie
Told by lovers
For security.
A lie
Told by lovers
Though the truth is known.
A girl
Afraid to love
Finally giving in.
A guy
Wanting love
And finally feeling it.
A secret
Never to be told
To anyone.
But a love
Wanting to be told
To everyone.
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