Sunday, December 19, 2010


Watching people at Starbucks is one of the greatest things ever. In the most un-creepy way possible. I'm not peering through the windows with binoculars, I'm writing my research paper, and instead of going on facebook for distraction, I am watching people..

I've seen a few coffee dates this morning. One consisted of a foreign man talking to this girl for the duration of their date. I don't think that's going anywhere.

Right now, however, there is a date with a man and a woman both in their early 60s probably. They're completely different, it seems. She's been married twice, lived in Italy, got her MBA from Northwestern, and is wearing incredibly fashionable clothes. He has never been married, and is wearing flannel and a trucker hat. Initially, I thought that these two would not click at all. But they've been talking for awhile. They seem to be enjoying themselves. I hope they are, at least.

Thursday, November 25, 2010


Maybe we romanticize the past, because a year ago I would do anything I could to extend the days and twist my brain around so I could bend time to convince myself that I was still young.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

brick wall

I'm not gonna lie, this is a little frustrating. I was super hyped for this blog. It seemed to be a perfect way to get my thoughts in writing, and to have people see what I think. But so far, it's been a little underwhelming. Maybe I have a case of chronic impatience, and the chronic American need of instant gratification. I have a goal that I wanted achieved, and I'm nowhere near it, so I become flustered. I've had this blog for almost a month, and nothing has really become of it yet. I appreciate followers, though, and it is a thrill every time I have a new one.

I think I just wanted my voice to be heard. But with so many other blogs out there, that may or may not be better than mine, a year in the life gets lost in the throes of them. And that kind of sucks. I just want to be noticed, I guess. And that's why I have a YouTube account as well. But nothing has become of that, either. And this is where the angst comes in. Kidding.

As the days go by and the authenticity wears off, it gets harder to post something when it's like I'm leaving a voicemail. I could just keep talking and talking, when finally I don't know what else to talk about. So maybe that's the challenge. I'll just keep writing until someone finally looks at the miniature me furiously waving at them and acknowledges me.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

teacher fear

creature fear- bon iver

I've decided that having a good teacher can make a student's school year so much better than if they had sucky teachers. Obviously, this isn't too profound, but I was thinking about this the other day. I've had a few really great teachers in my school career and those years stand out to me specifically. However, my sophomore year, I didn't have any teachers that I looked forward to going to their class, which made me think not highly of 10th grade.

I wish not-so-good teachers would realize that the mere fact that they aren't inspiring/motiviating/engaging, is going to most likely make or break the child's interest in the subject they teach. I can honestly say that the reason I like English and History so much is because I don't think I've had one bad teacher who taught those subjects. When a teacher obviously is just so enraptured by the subject they teach, I think that's the best. They get so excited! One of my math teachers just seemed like he didn't want to be there, and that he'd much rather be somewhere else. So i'm like, why are you here? You have the choice of so many professions, so if you don't want to be here, then why? I don't really want to be here either, but I still try and be as upbeat and optimistic as I can.

And then there are those teachers who are almost like life-coaches. They've done so much in their lives that they aren't just there teaching you history/english/math/science, but they are also teaching you things that can be applicable for the rest of your life. They recognize what you are passionate about, and they know YOU, which I think is aweseome. Those teachers are the kind of people where you're like "you are absolutely awesome let's be best friends" and where guy friends say "yeah dude, he's totally chill. that teacher's the kind of person I'd like to have a beer with" and then I'm like "oh my god shut up you're 16."

So maybe I'll put teacher in my list of things I might want to be when I grow up. Because I think every teenager/child/young adult/pre-schooler should have a teacher that makes them feel motivated and excited to be learning. I don't think a teacher's job is to JUST teach you things so that you get a good grade on the final. That is a vital part, don't get me wrong, but there's more to life than grades, and what will stick with you from highschool is not the A you got on your English final, but the wisdom and knowledge you gained from that one awesome teacher you were lucky to have.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

three words that became hard to say

I and Love and You- The Avett Brothers

It's weird how the most insignificant things can be the ones that you remember most.

During the Summer I went on a service trip to Hawaii. This was my view every morning:

Before I left, I was an absolute wreck. I was away from home for three weeks and I didn't know if I could make it. I thought that if I whined enough, my parents would come out and get me from Hawaii. 3000 miles away from home. Yeah, right.

Now, three months after I got home, I don't know if I've ever missed anything more. I miss the van rides most of all, I think. We could watch the absolute beautiful scenery pass by, and listen to music and just be with people you wouldn't think you would ever be with, but by fate, you were all put together for three weeks. And now, I miss something, and I feel like if I miss it enough, everyone will go back, and it will go back to the way it was in July-August 2o1o. Occasionally, reality hits me and it tells me that I most likely won't see the majority of the people ever again. And, though those three weeks I had with them were fucking amazing, I won't get it back. And I think that's what gets me.

Usually, when we miss something, there's a comforting notion in the back of our minds that tells us that, though we miss it so much now, we'll be reunited with it once again. But right now, I miss a summer trip that I won't ever get back. I'll have experiences that are similar to it in my lifetime, but all of us won't be in a little church sleeping there for a week, or we won't be in a van blasting a Taylor Swift song while going down the Hawaiian highway. I won't ever get back the times where my counselor would improvise a song on the guitar while singing to the ocean, just because.

So how long will it take me to get over this feeling? Months? Years? Because right now, it hurts me that I can't do anything about it.

The whole time I was there, I was counting down the days until I got home. And now I realize how stupid that really was.

Monday, October 18, 2010

say hello to the game, the people know my name

My name's Jessica. I'm 15. Originally I thought that this would be an anonymous blog, but I guess that's not my style. I don't like anonymity, I like people to know who I am, and I like to know people. I like to pretend that I'm not 15 sometimes. Because teenagers' crazy antics give me headaches. Next thing I know I'm going to be shaking my cane at them yelling at them to get off my lawn, dammit! No, seriously, I live a block away from the high school.

I tell my dog everything, 'cause he's such a doggone good listener.. get it? And I seriously have a weird bond with him. When people insult him I genuinely get angry. The list of irrational things that make me angry is quite long, in fact.

1. Losing at Monopoly.
- One time I was at my friend's cabin, and we played dogopoly (yeah that's right, Great Dane instead of Boardwalk) and she beat me and I had to walk away to compose myself.
2. When people insult my dog
-Seriously, if you're going to insult someone in my family, I'd rather you insult my sister, not a defenseless puppy!
3. The main staircase after lunch
- The next time I'm behind another boy who didn't put on deodorant that morning, shit's going down.
4. Girls on facebook
- The way that girls type on facebook makes me want to pull my hair out. If I see more computer talk, or hearts, or pictures that you took in the bathroom with heavy-ass eyeliner on and your hair straightened, I'm going to send a letter of complaint to Mark Zuckerberg.

I know, I know, my idiosyncrasies are intriguing. But enough about me, what about you?

when I go to London I'll be floating in the sky

To clarify for all of you who are dying to know. (i.e, no one as of current?) I'm not always this depressing. I was just looking at Deb Oh's blog (The Debonaire) and, first off, I loved the name, and second.. off.. I realized that even though this blog is mainly about the things that I talk about with myself when I'm falling asleep.. Those things don't define me, so I'm going to post things that make me happy, as well as things that I think about on a daily basis. And The Debonaire's blog made me SO happy. There was one specific post that I adored and it focused on one particular website: It has polaroids up from so many people and on those polaroids people write what they want to do before they die. I loved the concept. It was especially interesting to see what the values of the people were, and how they viewed mortality and how well they could wrap their mind around the concept of death. I know that occasionally I will have moments where I feel incredible drive to accomplish the things I want to, because I only have one life to live, and OH MY GOD! And then panic and crying ensues. But then I realize that I'm only 15 and I have tiiiiime...

But then there was another section of the website which featured those in hospice care.. and one man's polaroid in particular said "Before I die I wanted to see London because I'm a British subject. When I got to London I'll be floating in the sky." I wish that he had seen London, because no one should be deprived of something they want to do so badly. So I don't want this to happen to me, or to you, or to my mom or my dad or my friends or the random people I see on the street. I encourage everyone, no matter how old you are to write down what you want to do before you die. It doesn't have to be big. But it'll put things in perspective. I promise.

Sunday, October 17, 2010


So, now that we know that everyone wants to make an impact, it's a hard reality to face when we know that that not all of us will. Because what if we want so much to make a difference and to know that when we die we want people at our funeral to say "my life would have turned out differently without you" but we don't know what we are passionate about, and we don't know what makes us so special as to change the world?

Yesterday I went to see my friends play and it was fantastic. For the four weeks before-hand I heard constant negative things about it from my friend who was in it, but I was sitting in my seat in awe of what I was watching. Not only because the play was incredibly good and the actors were amazing in it, but because you can tell that the people on stage are doing something that they absolutely love to do. At 14-17 years old, these people on stage have a passion that they aren't afraid to showcase to their audience. And I was jealous.

I was jealous that they have such certainty in something, and, while I don't doubt that they are still teenagers and trying to "find themselves," they aren't completely dehabilitated from trying things out and searching for that passion like I am.

I left right after the play ended because I became an emotional wreck in the matter of 10 minutes. I suddenly felt this sense of incredible insignificance. There are 6 billion+ people in the world, and we all want to achieve greatness. So what makes me so special?