A Doodle for a Cause

My page of doodling for National Doodle Day.

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As promised, here is my doodle/page of doodling for National Doodle Day!

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So, I was gonna try just creating one image, but I don’t do well with stuff like that, so I just pulled out a writing pad last period (I had study hall, so I had plenty of time) and started doodling whatever wanted to be doodled.

This was the result.

I honestly don’t know what to make of it all, but… You know. Whatever. It’s the thought the counts.

I managed to turn the letters of my name into monsters of some sort. That made me very happy. I also drew the sun I always made when I was little. And when I say always, I mean always. Every paper from when I was in elementary school had a little sun with sunglasses in the corner.

Yeah, I was cool (not).

I started filling the corner up with flowers, but then they started becoming blurs of dots and squiggles, and I got bored. I ended up making a rendition of the Avengers symbol. My closest friend group kind of has a thing for them.

The heart balloons I sort of decided were my thing a long time ago. If I ever have a logo for anything, that will be it. So please don’t steal it from me or anything.

And the serpent thing’s name is Dan.

The rest has absolutely no rhyme or reason, which I guess is the usual outcome of doodling. Anyway, that’s my doodling for the day! Remember, if you created any doodles today, I’d love to see them!

Celebrate this wonderful day with me!

 

A Happy Place

The place I seek when I need peace.

You’ve all heard the phrase “Find your happy place”. When you search your mind for that place, where do you go? What do you see?

When I search for my happy place, I find a beach.

I know many people probably do the same. Beaches are peaceful, calming, relaxing. Even if you’ve never actually been to the beach, you’ve seen pictures and can at least imagine what it might be like.

However, I seek out a very specific place. I look through my mind and find a beach from my earliest memories, my childhood, my youth, my teenage years. A place that holds my most cherished memories, and a place where I buried my greatest fears in the sand.

Since before I can remember, my parents have been taking my brother and I to Fort Myers Beach. We used to visit at least once a year, usually more, for months at a time. My dad even took me out of school for a week so that he and I could take a much needed vacation. I was in first grade then, but focusing was hard and life was stressful.

I remember, when we were younger, my brother and I would build castles on that beach. I wasn’t any good at it, but he was. He’s always been creative in a way I can never be. He saw the completed project before we’d even started, and all I ever saw were odd, mishappen structures. But then we’d finish, and my heart would be filled with wonder.

I remember my dad getting me up early to walk on that beach with him, because no one else wanted to go and he loves walking on the beach. He would say he especially loves to walk on the beach with me because I’m his little girl, and I’d say I’ll always be his little girl, and he’d give me a knowing smile.

I remember playing in that sand alone because my brother was growing up and thought it too childish for him to play on the beach. I remember the first time he complained about going to the Florida, when he first started hating Fort Myers Beach. He still does.

We haven’t returned to that beach for about two years now. Life has been hectic, and my parents have used any free time to schedule trips to more exciting places, like China and Alaska.

Still, my memories of that beach remain, and I still reminisce in the strange peace I felt every time I went there.

When I find my happy place, I go to that beach. I stare out at the ocean and watch as the water curls under a bright and shining sun. I listen to the rhythmic sounds of the waves breaking on the beach, perfectly in sync with my every breath. I wiggle my toes in the soft sand, feel the tickle as the water barely runs over them. I taste and smell the salt and sunshine on the air.

I know the place by heart, with every sense of my being. When I go there for some peace of mind, I recall the place in perfect detail. The only difference is that I’m alone on the beach. No one is around to disturb my peace. I have the place all to myself.

We all have our own unique happy place. Sometimes there’s a great deal of meaning behind the place, sometimes there’s not. As long as it makes you happy, it doesn’t matter whether there’s a reason or not. It’s your happy place for a reason.

Make it your own.

And may it forever bring you joy.


 

Picture Sources: kayak.com

The Outrigger Beach Resort

HomeAway

(Note: I did not take the pictures myself, but they are all of my beach. I would recognize it anywhere. I’ll try to find some pictures my family has taken and replace these with those, but for now…)

 

A Step Back in Time

A picture is worth a thousand words. If I’m gonna let you see into my wild mind, I might as well give you a glimpse of my wild life as well.

I said I wanted to be honest in this blog. I want anyone who reads this to have the chance to really know me, even without actually knowing me.

In order to succeed in this task, I’m going to show off a shapshot of my life.

(actually, my teacher told us to post a picture and talk about it, but we’re gonna pretend it was all my idea.)

So, here’s the picture!

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Before I even start, I have no clue who that boy in the bottom right corner or that girl in the top left corner are. I’m sure they’re wonderful people, but we’re gonna ignore them.

The people we’re focusing on are those two boys and that one tall girl on the top of the haystacks.

Those two boys would be my lovely cousins.

And that tall girl in the pink shirt, looking down with that hint of a smile?

That would be me.

I really haven’t changed much over the years. This picture was taken in October of 2011. Compare that to my little profile picture (which may or may not be the same one that’s there now, depending on when you read this post), which was only taken about a year ago.

But enough about me. My two cousins are the real reason I posted this picture.

If I thought they would ever read this blog, I wouldn’t say what I’m about to say. But I know they won’t, so I’ll speak my mind.

I love those two. So, so much. Sometimes, I feel closer to them than my own brother. That’s not saying much, but you know. It must say something.

The boy with the headphones is one year older than me, only a month apart from my brother. When we were little and I looked up to them, they never really treated me well. Of course we were kids, so them running away from me was to be expected. But when I was the only girl anywhere near our age in the family, it was hard. I always felt so alone and abandoned.

Then Christian came along. He doesn’t know this, but he actually ended up being the big game changer. When he was still a baby, before he could even walk, we were at my grandparents’ house. My older cousin had played a nasty trick on me, telling me that the shadows would eat me if I got too close, and my brother played along, laughing when I ran away.

I went inside fighting back tears. My grandma must have noticed, because she told me to entertain my little baby cousin for a bit. I didn’t really want to (it sounded rather boring), but I did it anyway.

My older cousin and brother came in later and asked me why I hadn’t come back to play with them. I told them I was perfectly content playing with my little cousin, and truth is, I was. My little cousin had won my heart, and that day, I vowed that I would never let him feel abandoned like I had.

I’ve kept my promise as best as I can. Every time the older boys have sent him away, I’ve been there to play, or at least to just hang out. I know sometimes he doesn’t want me. When he was younger especially, he didn’t care much for me. I am a girl, after all.

But I think he’s gotten to like me better as time has gone on. The day this picture was taken, we went to a pumpkin patch place that also had a corn maze and that haystack playground we’re standing on. My brother hadn’t come for some reason (I think it might have been the start of one of his narcissistic phases). I remember my older cousin hadn’t been that into it, but my little cousin was super excited, and that was enough for me.

We had a great time and managed to drag my older cousin into the majority of the activities. At the moment the picture was taken, I’m pretty sure I was thinking about how much I missed moments like that. My brother and older cousin were growing up, and the world would expect me to grow up soon enough myself.

It was a scary thought that couldn’t be ignored.

But that’s the thing about little cousins. They can easily make you forget the world you live in, and they always manage to turn you into a child again.

And in that moment, I was living out a new childhood, one where I was no longer abandoned. One where I was the elder, and I was choosing to love.

Tempos, Rhythms,

And the people who act like they understand them, but don’t.

 

timingPlease tell me I’m not the only one who finds these people annoying.

I’m fine if you just can’t figure out tempos and rhythms. Feeling a beat can be hard, and you kind of have to be born with the instincts to do so. It’s just something that either comes naturally or not at all.

However, when you say you know exactly what the tempo is and then completely disregard the obvious musical cues and end up a full two counts behind, that’s just stupid.

I just don’t understand. How can people be so oblivious?

So, note to all my readers: don’t act like you know everything about something unless there’s absolutely no doubt in your mind that you’re right. If it turns out you’re wrong, well.

You’ll end up seriously annoying all the people who are actually right.

The Practice Post

Yes, here is my official “practice post”.

Everyone starts in this place. This first moment, this first attempt at blogging. The results vary greatly, of course. Some “practice posts” are successful, some are failures. It all depends on the blogger and what they choose to make of it.

Now, I could start off my “practice post” as many do: act like I’m already world famous and am writing to my billions of fans. However, that’s not really my style. I don’t expect to ever get to that point, so why pretend?

I’ll be real with you (whoever you are, if you are even anyone). I’m not much of an actress. I have a hard time being someone I’m not. So, I’m gonna take the easy (or maybe hard) route and be myself. I’ll write like I speak and speak like I write. I’ll go on rants. I’ll pour out all my thoughts and be a sarcastic little… well, you know.

Point is, I don’t want to be fake, so I won’t be.

Honestly, I don’t know what that will mean for the future, but I don’t really care. As long as I’m satisfied and I can make at least one other person in the world smile for just a moment…

Then my work here is done.

But until that day comes…

Carpe diem. Take life as it comes.