Why High School Mattered

In high school, I was surrounded by people who dress better, are more sociable, and have seemingly perfect lives; in comparison to mine. I believed that so much was important in high school. What I wore, who I talked to, and even what clubs I joined. It wasn’t until, in twenties, I saw yet another high school peer being arrested for drugs, that I realized just how silly it all was.

So why can’t I let go of it?

In high school, I was always trying to be different. I didn’t want to be just like my sisters. I wasn’t ashamed of them in the slightest, but I wanted for once for someone to recognize me for me, not my sisters. So I did crazy make up, wore strange colors, and did a bunch of theatre outside of school. I went to church regularly and joined the choir. That’s even where I met my first serious boyfriend. Not much worked though. Even though I would do a show with someone, once they met my sisters, I was no longer a friends. Just their friend’s little sister.

I would be lying if I said it wasn’t infuriating. But, what can you do? Well it got to the point where it was just me at this school. My senior year. This was supposed to be my year. The year where everyone knew me, and they liked me. At this point I was single, and ready for college at the beach! I was just focused on getting out of there. I ended up as the president of three clubs; Improv, Vocal ensemble, and Play Productions. Those are all vote-ins. So I thought all was well. Right?

Well I would soon find out that basically everyone hated me. They all thought I was stuck-up and didn’t deserve and part in any show because I was such a horrible performer. All of this occurred on Face Book. You could imagine how I felt. These were people I considered friends, my theatre “family”. This was all said through one person, but did anyone stand up for me? Did anyone tell her that they didn’t agree and to shut up? Did anyone back me up?

No. In fact, one of my good friends told this person that they were amazing for saying what no one else had the guts to say. My entire world had fallen apart. Here I am, living my life happy as a clam, just to get slammed with the reality that everyone I knew hated me. It didn’t help that in college, my roommates went behind my back and registered for on-campus housing while I was out looking at 3-bedroom apartments for us.

Some people reading this would say, “So? Not everyone you meet is going to like you, get over it.” But see, you forget, this was in high school. Where everything had mattered to me. To this day, I can’t get close to anyone. What if they hate me too? What if I just annoy everyone I meet? Would it be better for everyone else if I just kept to myself?

I went into a deep depression in college. And I was beyond angry with myself that I let myself get close to people who just ended up hurting me all over again. I knew that people don’t like me. I knew that people will always betray me. So why did I let myself believe that I could be happy with these two? And why did I apologize to them for getting mad at what they had done?

High had a great impact on me. My current boyfriend is constantly telling me that it’s time to move on. Get over it. But how can I? Every single thing that makes me who I am, is because of what happened then. Why I would rather stay home watching Doctor Who, rather than going downtown. Why I spend hours doing my nails, rather than go out to eat. Why I delved into alternative methods of reminding myself that I was a loser, rather than asking friends for help. All because I would rather hurt myself than to let someone else hurt me again. No one should be able to hurt me that badly.

I know that high school is in the past. I know that many from high school are getting arrested. But I also know that those certain people that hurt me so much are living amazing lives. And many people I knew outside of high school now know them, and like them a lot more than they liked me. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that they were right? People don’t actually like me. They just put up with me long enough to find an escape.

There are so many articles explaining why high school doesn’t matter, and how it doesn’t teach you anything. But, for some people, it does. For some  people, the worst day of their lives were then. For some people, every moment of their life they remember what was said about them. For some people, they have yet to find the reason to forget it all.

I just hope that one day I will be able to stand proud of who I have become. I know it will be a while, but one day I will prove those girls wrong.

One day I will be happy with who I am. 


“You need Jesus”

Today, in the heat of a dispute, a lady started to walk away and over her shoulder said, “You have a bad attitude and you need Jesus.” I responded with, “That was very polite, thank you.”

The entire thing was because she was carrying around a dog within the hotel, and seeing as it was a pet free property, and not seeing any evidence of it being a service animal, I simply asked her if it was in fact her pet. She responded, yes. I could easily rattle on multiple reasons why I didn’t believe this to be a service dog, but all that aside I’m not allowed to ask for proof. Later, her husband came up in a tizzy upset that there was a problem. After discussing that there wasn’t actually any problems, and that service dogs are more then welcome, she came over and said her line about Jesus.

I don’t care what anyone has done.If they cuss you out, or are just plain rude, if you truly think they need Jesus, just pray for them! Don’t even tell them that you are. Rudely stating that someone needs Jesus is just trying  to make yourself feel and sound like the better person. You aren’t. Neither was I, I should have responded with, I agree. Or something that notes the fact that everyone always needs Jesus. Pointing it out is just rude.

Will I pray for that family, of course, will I be a bit sour about it? Well, maybe for a couple hours. But I am human. We are not all perfect. So of course I need Jesus. I’m proud to admit that there are many things that I need him for. But I would never use religion as a focal point of an argument just to verify my beliefs. I know that I have a relationship with God, could it be stronger, yes. Could everyone’s? Yes.


So on a side note: If you, or anyone you know, needs prayers. Let me know. I would be more than happy to add you to my list!

Why “White Christmas” shouldn’t be updated

I will refer to this video, even though the quality isn’t the best. If I find a better one I’ll update it.

When one reads the lyrics to the song, “White Christmas”, he/she might presume that it is a song that’s reminiscent of child-like days of blissful happiness. Thinking about the happiness they felt a long time ago. That might have been true with the original production that came out before the movie White Christmas came out. But when the movie did come out it had this scene.

The men, mostly young, who were away from their families to fight for their freedom, our freedom. It added a brand new light on the beautiful song.

When someone like Bing Crosby is singing along with a toy-like box, you must understand that the irony was on purpose. Bringing back memories of the innocent sounds of a music box, and the enticing visual to any and all people listening.

Then, at :12, when Bing starts to sing. He rich baritone voice filling the bomb infused air seems to bring everyone down to whispers. I can’t help but to hold me breath for the first line, for fear of disturbing the quiet. Scenically, the camera stays pulled back while the first line is sang. But at :22 the camera pans in to show detail on Bing. I never though much of this, but if it started with a close up, you wouldn’t have been able to see the hand-made backdrop that is haphazardly hung in the background so that the men watching could pretend to be on a mountain top with the snow, over looking a church, with Bing. Forgetting the harsh reality of where they really were.

At :35 it shows their General. And right when Bing sings, “And children listen…” The general looks around at his men. I can only imagine what was going through his mind. Children, these men are thinking back to the Christmas’ when they were children, but they still are children. They’re so young, having to deal with things most adult men don’t have to in a life time. At :41 it shows the group of men, and one rests his head on the barrel of his gun, as if it’s a pillow. Once again, this wasn’t an accident. This man could have lowered the gun, and rested his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand.

But he couldn’t get that luxury, he knows where he is. and that at any minute he could need that gun to save himself and others. Either he has grown so accustomed to having it in such close proximity, which is a sadder thought still, or even though he’d like to forget where he is, he can’t.

At :46 the music slightly pauses and it must be wound up again. I don’t think there is a great deal of significance here, other than to remind the listener that this wasn’t a concert. But men trying to put on a show that had never done so before. I love the step forward that Bing does though. Right after Bing sings about the Christmas cards, he pauses and looks a bit. there must be so many letters that these guys wrote to people that they missed. Parent’s, brothers, sisters, friends, girlfriends, wife’s. I wonder how many actually got delivered, or even sent.

I have heard people re-do this song in hopes of re-popularizing the already popular hit. Or maybe they want to make money off the fame of the song. but there are some songs you shouldn’t mess with. Bing Crosby is one of those. His voice aside, what this song came to mean in this movie is heartbreaking. and if you aren’t going to honor the melancholy tones and  meanings this song hold, then you need to sing Mariah Carey.


I know this song came out before this movie, and was originally in “The Holiday Inn”, but this movie is where I think the meaning of the song became so powerful.