One syllable.

            Spring is a light time of year. It’s green and lush, and rain and dew drip off of the plants and make the ground kind of moist. The sun shines, but not hard. Its rays float down from the sky and with a calm touch, warm your skin. The wind does not howl, but a light breeze whips through the new buds on the trees.

          When you take a walk in the Spring, you can see the dark of the last month wash from the plants, the road, the trees, the cats and dogs, the world. Life comes back and shines with all of its force. Calm springs through the cloud of fog that is my brain and clears my mind. It makes me want to sing and dance, to throw my arms in the air and twirl. 

          Dance, too, is a force of calm. Dance is a dream, a way out of the mess. When you dance, things fall down, piece by piece, and all you have left is the truth. In a real world, you need that. A way to break down your life and think of a way to see through to your end goal. 

  

          If the times are tough, think of spring and dance. They can help you rise up and feel at peace with your mind once more. If the days are mad, let the spring breathe life back into you and feel calm.

"So, Vivian, are you excited for college?"

The answer to that question is yes...and no.

During Spring Break, my dad and I visited six colleges all up and down the Eastern part of the country. I flew out to Washington, DC (where my dad lives) on Saturday, and on Sunday we drove down to North Carolina. We stayed overnight in Davidson, North Carolina, and on Monday, we visited Davidson College and then drove over to Wake Forest University. After that, we drove to Chapel Hill, and visited University of North Carolina on Tuesday. After the tour, we drove back up to DC. On Wednesday afternoon, we drove up to Pennsylvania to visit Bucknell University. We did the tour on Thursday, an continued north to upstate New York. On Friday, we did tours at Hamilton College and Colgate University. On Saturday, we drove back to DC, and on Sunday I flew home.

Was that a hectic paragraph? Yeah, well it was a hectic week. And I was sick (I even woke up with a fever on Saturday) the entire time. While I would like to bemoan my crazy week, I don't. Aside from being a little uncomfortable from coughing and sneezing, I had a great time visiting all of the schools and getting a better idea of what I'm actually looking for in a college. There are so many things to consider, and while it may seem overwhelming to visit so many schools in such a short amount of time, and have so much information thrown at you, it was actually really helpful. Of those six, two of them are out for sure, and two more are on the maybe list. By seeing the schools that I didn't like, I now know what schools to stay away from, which was very helpful.

I learned two things during all of the visits: 1) That I am ridiculously excited and ready for college. 2) That I am ridiculously scared and under-prepared for college. At one point, my dad asked me, "So, Viv, does all of this touring and seeing colleges make you wish you were already in college?" And my immediate reaction was one of hesitation. My response? "Yeah, but it also makes me wish that I didn't hate high school so much."

The truth was that seeing the colleges did make me wish I was there, because they seemed so much more fun than what I'm doing now. You get to pick most of your classes, so that you're actually studying things that you're interested in. You get to have *gasp* free time, and join clubs and participate in intramural sports and other fun things like that. That all seems really fine and great to me. But by wishing myself away to college, that means that I'm not living in the present, not savoring the time I have left at home with my parents. College signifies a completely new stage in your life, one where you have to figure out how to live on your own. Once you graduate, it's not like you can say, "Well that was fun, time to go back to normal life now." and go back and live with your parents.

I suppose what I actually learned was that college is going to come anyway. I can't just plant my feet in the ground and hope that I can stop time (because technically, that's not physically possible). So, though it's a struggle to get up in the morning and come to Uni, I'll appreciate it in the end, and when it's time to actually go to college, I'll be ready and excited.

Don't judge Mrs. Regan...

Lately I've been reading a book called "Vivian Rising" by Daniella Brodsky. And yes, I was in the bookstore and was distracted by the fact that a book had my name on it. And yes, that's why I picked it up and read the back. BUT. I was also legitimately intrigued, so haters can be quiet.

The book is about a girl named Vivian (or Viv, as she likes to be called by everyone (I just like to be called Viv by my close friends, by the way.)) whose grandma has just died. Viv was raised by her grandma and they were like two peas in a pod. In the beginning of the book, Viv loses her faith in pretty much everything, until something incredibly unexpected happens (dun dun dunnnn). While she was previously skeptical of astrology and horoscopes, Viv gets a reading done by a woman named Kavia, who tells Viv to avoid taking the train home that day. She does as she is told, and the next day, she wakes up to find that the train that she would have taken crashed and the train car that she normally rode in was completely destroyed. Viv is now hooked and, though she tries to suppress her astrological urges, consults her horoscope more and more.

I'm about halfway through this book, and so far, I really like it. I, for one, have always believed in horoscopes and they are generally the first thing I turn to when I pick up my copy of Seventeen Magazine. Some people (my mother) say that horoscopes are either wrong or just coincidental. However, whenever I read my horoscope, it usually fits me pretty well. Or is it just that I make it fit me? Here is where the doubt to my "faith" comes in, because I do this with songs and books and movies too; I recognize similarities between the song/book/movie and my life, and then I start to take advice from said song/book/movie. This sounds pretty odd, but even as I was reading "Vivian Rising," I was thinking, "hmm, her name is Vivian, she is kind of similar to me, her situation is kind of like mine..." and I take notice of what she does. So far, I don't think I have actually consciously followed "advice" gleaned from a song/book/movie, but that's definitely the way I listen to/read/watch them; always on the look out for parallels.

While this might influence my relationship with horoscopes a little, I don't think it has that much of an effect. I actually do believe in horoscopes and astrology and stuff, and I'm always curious to learn more about it. I think it's interesting to see what zodiac signs people are supposed to get along with, and what the character traits of the different signs are. Don't think I'm a crazy; Mrs. Regan did it.

ps. I'm a cancer. :)

It's Soccer Season!!!

Fall and Spring are by far my favorite seasons, because the weather is moderate. Winter is cute and snowy for a few weeks, but by the end of it, all I want to do is stay in bed all day. Summer is nice because there's no school and you can go swimming, but it's just too hot. During Fall, the weather cools down and the leaves change colors, and it's all beautiful and calm. School starts and you get to see all of your friends again, and the homework load isn't too heavy yet. However, I've got to say that Spring is my favorite season, because it's girls' soccer season.

I love soccer. While I'd like to think I've got a little bit of skill with regards to the sport, I'm in no way as good as some people. But, this doesn't really bother me. If I make a mistake in a game or at practice, initially I'll be a little frustrated with myself, but after a while, the frustration will fade, and I'll remember how much fun I'm having. I definitely believe that soccer is one of those sports (at least in a Uni context) where you don't really have to be good; you'll have a great time regardless.

Soccer involves a lot of running, and if you know me well, you'll know how much I despise running. But during soccer, I could run forever. If I've got a ball in front of my feet and I'm dribbling down the field, or if I'm trying to get open for someone to pass me the ball, I'll be all over the place, and I'll run anywhere. I'm a left-midfielder in soccer because I'm left-footed (I'm also left-handed). Since the majority playing are right-handed and therefore (most of the time) right-footed, the ball tends to stay on the right side of the field for a lot of the game. So, if you watch me in a game, you'll see me keeping level with the play, running up and down the left side of the field, back and forth, waiting for a cross of some sort. This ends up being a ton of running, and I'm always exhausted at the end of games, but during the game, I'm so engrossed in watching the play and paying attention and creating options that I don't even notice that I'm moving.

One of the absolute best things about soccer season, though, is the weather. Illinois Winter is enough to drive anyone crazy, and Illinois Winter plus Uni homework plus sleep deprivation really does make me want to sleep all day. But once soccer starts, you know things are going to get better. You get a study hall, which helps with homework, and you also have less time in the afternoons to dilly dally. When you get home from practice, you know you have to do your homework pretty much immediately, and it's nice to have a little more motivation. But it's not like you're wasting two hours of your afternoon either; you're getting to play the best sport ever and hang out with some really cool people. AND not only are all of these things awesome about soccer, but once you get to start practicing outside, the world seems like a much happier place. You're exercising, which I know makes me feel better, and the weather is cool and a little windy, and the grass is starting to get green. It always smells nice outside, like wet grass and Spring, and fried foods from the dining hall at PAR/FAR. Yes. Soccer is a great time.

Dear Saleem, get some meds.

Trust. We all know it’s an important thing to have in a relationship. But have you ever thought about it with regards to a narrator? Hah. I bet you haven’t. While you might not think that your relationship with a narrator of any piece of writing is that important, when it comes down to the plausibility of the piece, it can make all the difference. 

This past summer, I was reading a book called Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie. It’s basically about a man who was born in India at the very minute (on August 15^th, 1947), when India and Pakistan split into two countries. The man (then a boy), Saleem, has special powers whereby he can communicate with other children born at the exact time of India’s independence. He calls them Midnight’s Children. The story is being told to the reader by the grown up Saleem, who is recounting and dictating his story to his secretary, Padma. Because of this, we get to hear about his past, but also about what’s going on in his present; he’ll sometimes make sidebars about Padma, or about the room he’s sitting in, things like that. 

I was really into this book for the first 250-300 pages. It had a really interesting plot that I couldn’t even imagine coming up with and writing a novel about, and the language was so creative and carefully chosen. The characters, which were many in number, developed at ridiculous rates, and at least once a chapter, or even more often, you would discover some new facet of one or another character’s personality. 

This novel was captivating, in almost every way that it could be. It had the foreign setting, the political yet personal plot, and the complex characters, yet around page 250 or so, there came a turning point. Saleem comes down with a fever and is unable to tell Padma his story for a number of weeks. When he does recover enough to start talking again, one of the first things he says is something like this (I can’t find the exact quotation): I’ve begun telling my story again, and it’s so crazy that Padma thinks I’m still feverish, but really I’m completely recovered. 

I hadn’t considered Saleem to be an unreliable narrator for the first part of the book, but suddenly, I could imagine this withered and sick looking man lying on a bed. Next to him is a woman who has a notepad and is taking down notes, but who also looks very unsure about the whole satiation. I could see this man ranting and raving about the most ridiculous things, and my reaction to this scene would be, “This dude is still sick. He’s hallucinating. Make him shut up.” It was at this point that I realized that Saleem could totally be making everything up. He could just be talking about whatever he felt like, because let’s face it; no one actually has telepathic powers. 

I decided I couldn’t trust Saleem anymore, now that doubt of his reliability had been raised, so I stopped reading the book. I didn’t exactly do it consciously, but I remember reading that part, and I became doubtful, and then I realized that since I could no longer trust the narrator, I was no longer interested in the story. 

That experience taught me a lot about the importance of trust; namely the fact that if somebody is feverish and then begins telling you about their telepathic powers, you probably shouldn’t listen to them.

It's like a see-saw, really...

This week, I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed. I don’t really have too much going on, but for some reason, everything that needs to get done feels like it’s multiplied by four, and I feel completely swamped. Over the next five days, I have a blog post, Math homework, a Physics quiz, homework from the SSO, some reading, and a History test to do and study for, and a dance class and soccer open gym to go to. I know that some people who are taking more classes or more difficult classes would argue that this isn’t a lot, but for me, this is too much. I get home from school, and I feel like I’ll be up all night, even though I never actually am.

I don’t really know what I intend to do through this post. Do I maybe want to tell people that they aren’t the only ones who are stressed? To let them know that everyone wants to throw their backpack out of the window every time they look at it? Or is it to let people know that, once you sit down and get started, all of that work doesn’t seem so daunting. It’ll take a few hours, sure, but it won’t kill you. In a few weeks, you’ll look back and think, “that wasn’t really so bad.” In a few years you’ll look back and think, “that assignment has no bearing in my life whatsoever, why was I stressing about that?”

Maybe the purpose of this post is to talk about the delicate balance which comes with being invested and motivated to do well in school. You do have to take these things seriously. Homework is a part of your grade, along with tests and other things. Your grades go on your transcript and determine your GPA. Colleges look at your transcript and GPA (among other things) and decide whether or not they want you.  When you think about it this way, this assignment seems like a huge deal! But really, when you’re 45 and settled with your family, your junior year Math class will be the least of your concerns. These things, in the long run, are silly and small, so why should we even care about them? This is where the balance is necessary, because if you start to tip too far in the ambivalent direction of the scale, bad things happen. You might stop doing your homework and studying for tests. Your grades might drop and you might get a 2.0 instead of a 4.0 for your GPA. Colleges might look at this and say, “Woah, what happened to this chick? It’s like she stopped caring.” And your life might not turn out the way you wanted it to.

I used to become frustrated with people who told me that my best was good enough, and not to stress, but that I still needed to do well on this homework, or this test, or what have you. I would think, “So, you want me to care, but also not care. To try, but not kill myself trying. To worry, but not stress. How am I supposed to do that?” Balance. That’s the only way.

So, now that I’ve written this post, I can finally tell you what its message is; balance, guys. Try hard in school and do your best, but don’t let it kill you, because when you’re vacationing in Disneyland with your kids, you will definitely be thinking about other things.

The Rainbow in my mind.

One day I was in Pages for All Ages, which was a bookstore in Savoy (before it closed). I was looking through the young adults section, and I picked up a book called A Mango-Shaped Space. The cover had a cat and a bunch of colors on it, so needless to say, I was drawn in quickly. I flipped it over and read the back cover. There was a quote from the book which read “Everyone thinks I named my cat Mango because of his orange eyes, but that’s not the case. I named him Mango because the sounds of his purrs and his wheezes and his meows are all various shades of yellow-orange…” ‘Well that’s interesting,’ I thought. So I read on. The book is about this chick named Mia who is “far from ordinary. She is keeping something from everyone: sounds, numbers, and letters have color for her.” 'Okay, now that’s kind of strange.' I thought. 'Because I do that too…'

I was doing a craft project in elementary school, and I made a necklace with colored beads, which spelled out my name. I told someone about it, and they were kind of confused. As a kid, I usually assumed everything that I did was special, and then later I would find out that everyone did it. So, I naturally assumed that I was the only one who could see letters and numbers in color. Later I realized that I actually was.

As I learned from the book A Mango-Shaped Space, seeing letters and numbers in color is called synesthesia. There are around 60 different kinds of synesthesia, such as seeing a word and having a specific taste in your mouth, or hearing a sound and seeing a shape or a color appear in your vision. This happens because of “crossed wires” in your brain. I would try to explain it from a medical standpoint, but it probably wouldn’t make sense. One of the most common kinds of synesthesia is color-graphemic synesthesia, which is where you see letters and numbers in color. I have this kind of synesthesia, as well as another kind called number form synesthesia. This means that whenever you think of numbers, you form a mental map of the numbers. I also do this with days of the week, months, and years.

So, what exactly does it mean? Well, when I see numbers, letters, or words, I perceive them as a certain color. I don’t exactly see them as a certain color, I just sort of…understand them as a certain color. For example, the letter A is red (which I’ve read is a quite common perception for people with synesthesia, although letters and numbers are not usually perceived as the same color between two different people). I understand A as being red, even though I know, as I type it, that it’s actually black. All of the words on here are black because that is the color that I’m typing in, but I perceive them as being colored. Another example is the word Thursday. Thursday is totally yellow, even though there’s only one yellow letter in it (the h). So, with words, I see the individual letters’ colors, but then there’s also an overall color for the word. (I’m hoping these descriptions make sense.) For days of the week and months, etc, I have a certain image of the order of them. It’s not exactly like I see a picture of the days when I think about them, but I have a certain feeling as to how they’re organized.

I really love having synesthesia, mostly because I really like colors, and it’s neat to have everything be colored. I also love it because it gives me a really good memory, nearly photographic. I can remember numbers and names because of what colors they are, and dates because of the way that I see them ordered. I'm also a really good speller because I can tell when a certain letter doesn't belong in the word because the color is wrong. Some famous people with synesthesia are Nikola Tesla, and both Syd Barrett (founder of Pink Floyd) and Pharrell Williams are thought to have it, but it hasn’t been confirmed.

If you want more information, and a clearer explanation as to why synesthesia happens, Wikipedia has a pretty good page. In closing, here’s an example of how I perceive things; I’ll try to make this as accurate as possible, although sometimes it’s hard to pinpoint the actual color of a letter.

Vivian

This isn’t exactly how it looks, but you get the general idea. :)