Friends come and go. It’s a way of life. Someone can be your best friend one day, and then all of the sudden, everything has flipped upside down and you’ve both moved on.
If you’re a longtime reader of my blog, you’ll know that I’ve had my fair share of friendship drama. For a teenager, it’s a given matter of life. But, like I’ve also said, some people are given the short stick when it comes to friends.
My main goal in life is to be happy. And friends give me so much happiness, and push me to do my best. The friends I had when I was younger shaped who I am now.
I’ve never been one to immediately fit in with a group of people. Even in Kindergarten, when most kids would walk right up to a stranger and become best friends within minutes, I was always an extra wheel that was for a different car model.
It’s a place where a lot of people have been; you walk into a crowd of new people, and are unintentionally iced out. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work. You aren’t supposed to be there, maybe. Continue reading “Failing to Fit In”→
Pardon my useless posting within the next few weeks…
The title of this post may seem confusing to you. I won’t lie, it’s confusing to me when I read it. But
hopefully, with explanation, you’ll be able to understand and connect to what I’m saying.
Stress is something everyone experiences many times throughout their lives. And whether it be something like fretting over a test the next day, or getting a phone call from the hospital that is informing you of an accident a loved one was in.
Let me preface this post by saying I had no intent on writing this seven minutes ago.
Seven minutes ago, I had decided not to start Benjamin Button at 1:00 am and go to sleep for once instead of making it through until daylight. I had set my laptop under my bed to resist temptation, checked my phone to make sure my alarm was on for the morning, and all of the sudden, I realized I hadn’t written of my personal struggles with the holidays. And it’s very important to me that I do write of it, because I know I’m not alone.
Death is inevitable, and the people that avoid it and ignore it are just timid and not sure of what to think about it.
I’ve known since I was about five years old what it means to lose someone, as I lost my first dog around that time. It wasn’t easy for me at all. I went into therapy as a kindergartener until I was ten years old to deal with the death of my beloved pet.
At that time, all I understood was that she was there in the morning, and gone that night. But it wasn’t a light blow to my heart to have her gone, it was a piercing stab in my entire body to lose someone who I had grown with, who I had cherished and loved.
I wrote out this whole post, and it deleted. I am shaking with anger, but I will rewrite it just for you, kids.
I have a special relationship with my hair.
Alright, calm down. Quit rolling your eyes, and listen. Everyone has a feature that they get OCD about, and for me, it’s my hair. Since I was little, my hair has been sacred to me. We’ve had our ups and downs, but it’s been my form of self-expression. Continue reading “Fifty Stages of Maggie’s Hair”→
It’s absolutely unavoidable. I couldn’t tell anyone that their families would stop fighting, because a lot of the time, they won’t. And, it’s assumed that I’m referring to couples, but I’m also referring to siblings, siblings and parents, siblings and yourself. Everyone pushes each other’s buttons, especially my family.
There’s a silence upstairs, I’ve been listening to my parents argue with my oldest brother for the past hour. It’s harsh, it’s irrational. Luckily, fights with my parents like this happen once every year or so. I don’t think I could handle this grueling sit-down every night like he does. Continue reading “Families That Fight”→
Being a filmmaker, the most amazing point in the whole process is when it finally starts to come together. This can be within a day of shooting, when you see all the footage, when the soundtrack is added, when you finish the project after putting your everything into it.
Trust me, I’m no professional. But when I sit back after hunching over a screen for four hours straight and start to see something come out of what I’ve been working on, the most satisfying wave of euphoria washes over me. This moment usually happens when the music is added, as I am a complete buff for soundtracks and film scoring.
Sometimes I wonder about what makes me happy, but when I’m in that spot of success in my filmmaking, I know exactly what makes me happy. It’s what I hunger for, to film, to hold a camera and just know that it’s me giving it the power to capture.
Everyone regrets things, wishes they could change them. Even the people that claim that their mistakes shaped who they are. I’m obviously a person who wishes all the time that I could go back and switch things, but that’s also obviously impossible.
Middle school was a time of mistakes for me, my “trouble spot”, so hear are some of the things I would discuss with my sixth grade self.
Oh, the critically acclaimed (or soon to be) article anthem of short gals like me.
I come from a family of short people. Let me paint the picture for you; my mother is 5 feet even, my father 5’8, my eldest brother stands at 5’6. I won’t even mention my younger brother, as he is in the midst of growing.
I surrounded myself with short friends all through grade school and middle school, but when high school began, I made new friends. Which means new heights.
I will always be the “smallest” in a group of friends, and I am totally content with my height, but there are a bundle of things that we (us shorties) hear quite often that can get a bit annoying.