Barefoot Blue Jean Night

Luckily my umbrella has been about loss of innocence, and with my high school graduation less than a week from now, that seemed like the best thing to talk about as my final blog post. 

A senior I know explained the end of this year best.  "We're excited for the end of the year because we want summer, but it hasn't set in that we never come back."  Never.  We can always visit and we can always get back together, but once we leave; life changes.  

This will be the last summer I can aimlessly drive to the beach with my friends.  This is the last summer I can ask my parents for ice-cream money.  And this is the last summer I can pretend that my future is far away.  

I can remember being 10 yrs old, running to Taylor's house, ringing the doorbell and playing outside in the sprinkler for an hour until her mom would have us over for lunch.  My only worry was that I swallowed the ice-cube whole and I thought I was going to choke because I didn't realize ice would melt in my throat.  Now, I'm worrying about if I will ever learn how to make a hot meal because my school doesn't have a cafeteria/meal plan.  My future is starting in 58 days as I board my plane to Israel and start the rest of my life with out my familiar hometown feeling.  That, right there, is the definition of loss of innocence.

So, this is my last blog post for my loss of innocence blog because, I too, will soon be losing mine.  I will be in a new chapter of my life with new people, but this summer, until then, I'll be singing:

                                                             Whoa-oh

                                                     Never gonna grow up

Whoa-oh

Never gonna slow down

Whoa-oh

We were shinin' like lighters in the dark

In the middle of a rock show

 Whoa-oh

We were doin' it right

Whoa-oh

We were comin' alive

Whoa-oh

Yeah, caught up in a Southern summer, a barefoot, blue jean night

Hi all! I'm Rebekah, a dear, dear friend of Mary's (maybe her only one---just kidding :)), and I'm guest blogging on her blog today! If you want to check out my blog, on film, arts and media, go . Anyways, Mary usually writes about childhood and themes related to it. It's sort of perfect, because since I'm a near graduate of high school (less than a month left I think), I've been thinking about my childhood a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. All of the things I loved in my childhood- candy, games, cool toys (anyone whose childhood was in the '90s remembers "Sock 'em Boppers"), movies and tv shows, and anything else I did in those flashbulb memories that I have- are frequently discussed and shared with my friends who are graduating as well. And all I can wonder is, where did all the time go? I don't remember things in a straight line- I don't think anyone actually does, I usually remember things in vivid flashes, scattered all across the timespan of my life. But the majority of those memories that I have from the time before I was twelve or so, (aka the ones that are the most scattery), seem incredibly bright and carefree. I always say that the 1990s in my mind is so much brighter and happier than nowadays, but I'm pretty sure that that's just me remembering my childhood that way. But, anyways, I can remember a time when my mother was the guardian of my life, and my only worries consisted of when I would get to have Chef Boyardee next or if Corey and Topanga would stay together on Boy Meets World. Over the years, I would think back to that age that I call "my childhood", (even though until recently I was technically a "child"), and sigh, praying for it to be that easy again. I would especially do that whenever anything supremely challenging was happening, like finals or a break-up or raging insecurities. God, how I would miss them, how I would wish to go backwards. I realize now how foolish and wrong I was acting. I can't go back, and I don't even think I want to. Don't get me wrong; I would love to feel that innocent again, to not know about the world (and therefore its people, its wars, and its problems) as much as I do now. But I think if I were to miraculously rewind, I would hate it. There's a lack of substance, a lack of understanding and depth that I don't think I could live without now that I've had it. I miss it, but I'm glad it's over. So, yes, I loathe and fear the idea of grovery shopping by myself and paying my own bills and constantly worrying about money, but there's something beautiful about that future that makes it, if possible, more rewarding than childhood. Now, I'm an eighteen year old with fears for the future bigger than any of Jupiter's moons. I can try to dissolve those fears by sitting around a bonfire with my friends and talking about "Spongebob" and "Wonder Balls", but I don't want those fears to dissolve completely. Right now, more than ever, I'm ready to grow up.

Remember when?

Let's say you were lookin through an old picture album with one of your oldest best friends. As you're flipping through the pages, there are many comments and phrases you are bound to say, one of those being "oh those were the days". That's totally ok, almost everyone says something similar to that when reminiscing. But how true is that statement really.
Recently I was flipping through some of my older Facebook albums and my friends and I were commenting on the funny faces and thinking back to those certain days, and someone said the phrase, "Man, those were the days, how great was all of that". Now while I somewhat agreed, I couldn't help but think, what's wrong with today? We're seniors now, but we were looking back on our 8th grade photos. Why is it about the past and being younger that appeals to so many of us. Why do we feel like everything was always better than it is now?
In 8th grade I had a solid group of girlfriends, good grades, braces, skinny bod, frumpy clothes and more. Now I have a larger group of close friends, iffy grades, ok teeth, could be better bod, solid style and more. Thing is I can't find one lifestyle better than the other. But what made 8th grade more appealing to the senior mind is that I had more of my life ahead of me. I didn't know how I was going to turn out or what my options were. In 8th grade, I had all of high school ahead of me, while now, the past four years feels like they happened in the blink of an eye. To senior Mary, 8th grade Mary's problems were squat and I didn't seem to have a care in the world. But at the time, I can remember worrying about people bothering me for my braces or my pretty ugly clothes, what if any boy likes me and if I'll catch the bus in the morning. Those were pressing issues back then, ad I probably thought 5th grade was the prime time.
But if I think about it, while the problems and issues may be a little more extreme at this age, I don't think I'll look back on 8th grade thinking it was better. Now I can drive myself around-no more parent dependence, I have a job where I make money I can spend, I make more pressing decisions, my face has cleared up, can be out and about anywhere on my own, no parental curfew and more. These are fun and great times too, with our whole lives ahead of us. College is like highschool to our 8th grade selves.
Those were great days, but so are these.

Freudian Slip? Taking a Freudian view on Disney

Disney movies are the greatest right? I could go all day talking about the movie marathon ABC Family had recently just because I can't think of a childhood without Disney, but really the reason a lot of children like the movies is because it fulfills a lot of the Freudian theories about life and relationships.

Take the idea that most girls want to marry their father. In a lot of the Disney movies, there are the evil step-mothers, and because the step-mothers generally sweep in and take that position away from the daughters, we want to see that the step-mothers are defeated. This is accomplished in Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and then there are variations with movies such as the Little Mermaid, 101 Dalmatians and more. Most little girls don't like the movies solely because there are princesses and magic, but because the movies portray something all little girls are relatively programmed to want.

Along with just being satisfied with the step-mother being killed or overthrown, it is essential that the step-mother is evil, because why would anyone want a perfectly suitable person taking over their role in life. But along with overthrowing the step-mother, the saying "every girl marries her father" comes into play. This phrase essentially means that most girls end up marrying a boy similar in characteristics to her father. This probably comes from the idea I stated earlier, but this is when the handsome Prince comes in. In the princess movies, there is always a trusty prince who comes to save her life. This feeds into our programmed minds because the princess' father is a king, general handsome, and has a lot of power over people and situations. The rescue driven princes usually have a patriarchal way of thinking because they are the person to be saving the princess, and she generally follows along with out a fuss, thus feeding into the idea of power.

Disney knew right where to write our deepest desires, and it helped them sell movies. I don't want to see evil lose, I want to see the poop who took my spot in life taken away so that I metaphorically can marry my father. That's what Disney movies give us.

GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!

Now readers, let's be honest here. Girl Scout Cookies are by far the best cookies out there. Today, we got one of our orders of cookies. We ordered from 3 different little girls, because 1) you can't say no to a little girl, 2) who doesn't love them peanut butter patties. Unfortunately we have already finished one of the boxes of cookies. But other than hearing about my family's eating habits, I'd like to share a little rumor/fact I heard about the girl scout cookie industry. I heard that a very marginal profit goes to the actual Girl Scout company or organization or whatever. I thought the point of the cookies were to fund for the benefit of the little girls participating in Girl Scouts.

I know I could never give up buying these savory treats, but I did start thinking about the ethics of this news. Girl Scout cookies probably bring in the most profits during the year than any fundraiser, and the definitely sell more than the Boy Scout Popcorn, but if they don't even get a nice chunk of the profit, is it worth those girls selling the cookies? Those little girls go from house to house, knocking on doors and trying to be as sweet as they can to sell boxes. Some girls even have their older sisters bring the order form to class to hoax their classmates to buy some.

I understand that this relatively teaches girls how to be better salesmen/saleswomen, but at the end of the day you just get an exhausted little girl. Are the companies just so smart to realize that they can get the most money off of little girls willing to sell sell sell for the satisfaction of selling enough boxes for a t-shirt? Plus, if they're barely getting any money off of it, why do the girls keep selling the cookies?

Personally, it'd be weird calling these cookies anything other than "Girl Scout Cookies", but if those hardworking kids aren't getting any money off of these sales, I'd rather you save them and their parents from walking all around the neighborhood.

Crayons or iPads?

Lately, everywhere I look I see phones out and usually that phone is a smart phone. But I'd like to say that I was a proud owner of the Motorola Razor up until June 2011 and now I have a Sony Ericsson (it's a basic flip phone). I wish I could say I get annoyed when I can't just pull up Twitter when I'm bored in class, but I actually love my phone.

For one, there are two circles on the phone that light up in different colors when someone calls or texts you. For different contacts, you can set different colors and more. Two, text messages are in "conversation" format. So like the iPhone and Droids, I can see my conversation with people in chronological order as opposed to sifting through many other texts. Three, if fits perfectly in my back pocket without ever worrying that it'll fall out or i'll butt dial people. After that, it's just a regular phone that calls and takes crappy pictures.

But I guess the more intellectual reason why I love my phone, is because of something I stated before...I can't pull up Twitter when I'm bored in class. My basic, generic phone helps me stay focused on tasks and people with ease. People around me constantly have an electronic device out in front of them. Whenever I am with friends or family, I can easily put my phone down and not worry that I'll want to look at it the rest of the night.

I've done retreats and had vacations where I wasn't allowed to have my phone or there was no telephone service and the feeling is great. I have to find my own way of entertainment and go back to what I did when I was a kid. When we 90's kiddies were growing up, we played outside all the time and had crayons and coloring books when we went to restaurants. Now, children have iPads to color with and phones to communicate. My 3rd grade cousin has a phone to text and call her friends, and she knows about more iPhone games than I do. Maybe it's because I was still growing up when cell phones were becoming more public, but 3rd grade just seems so early. I don't know how often she goes outside and plays ghost in the graveyard with her neighbors. I don't know how polite she'll be around her friends when they hang out.

So although I don't have the fanciest of phones on the block, mine is better in the long-run. I still have to create my own entertainment. I can be polite and appreciative of the people around me. And lastly, people can't expect me to see some stupid urgent email they sent me on the way over. Call or text me, but really I prefer getting snail mail.

Blowing My Cover - Book Review

I'm pretty sure most people, when they were younger, had a "dream job". I went through the vet stage, the next Mia Hamm stage and, of course, the CIA spy stage. I didn't want to be a spy in the CIA, but any part of the most secretive department of American government seemed good. But I recently dropped that idea when I realized I wouldn't want to keep secrets from my family.

I just finished a book called "Blowing My Cover". It is a memoir about a former CIA spy who recounts the interview process, the training and more. To her, being a CIA spy was a "dream job" that she persued and was utterly let down. And although she wasn't a child, the glamour of the "dream job" ideals were still there.

When I realized I was never going to be as good as Mia Hamm, I felt let down. I had planned a whole life around my future soccer practices and location of my team. But it was only that way because I was old enough to really see my dreams slip away. In "Blowing My Cover", she was witnessing her dream being wisked away, seeing that it really wasn't as great as she hope it would be. At what point do we cross the line from just picking a new dream without being let down, like when we were young, and when we realize a dream falling to pieces.

Children have more time, they don't know all the things they are and aren't capable of. And to be honest, at 5, there still is a better chance they could be the next president than at 15 when they've seen their grades and college options and such.

But on a more positive note, "dream jobs" don't really have to be as much of a let down as some people see it, because if it wasn't as good as you hoped it would be, then obviously it isn't the "dream job" you imagined.

Sweet Dreams