Like a bird;

And maybe I'm not the type to sit back and watch things get better in time. Maybe I'm the type to fly away and find a new destiny.

Sigh.

  I hate people.  I need to stop hating people.  I need to start loving people.  There's a quote from the book I'm reading, it's called The Glass Castle, by Jeanette Walls.  A very good read.

  "She added that you should never hate anyone, even your enemies.  'Everyone has something good about them, she said.  You have to find the redeeming quality and love the person for that.'  

   'Oh yeah?' I said, 'What about Hitler?  What was his redeeming quality?'

   'Hitler loved dogs," Mom said without hesitation."

Remember

Friday night football game with our rival team.

Myself.

Renald.

November

November is certainly my favorite month out of the entire year.

1. It's sneaky

  November is one of those months that just kind of sneaks up on you.  One moment, you're laying in the hot July sun, taking in its sweet rays.  The next, you're running around various stores trying to find a cozy winter coat because, well look, it's already November.

2. The first snow

  Oh, how giddy I become when I wake up on a cold November morning and snow is falling from the black sky.  My hair becomes crystallized with snowflakes and my eyes sparkle at the first sight of a very promising beginning to a beautiful season.

3. Thanksgiving

  I love food.  Seriously, you don't understand.  Thanksgiving dinner is my favorite, because that is the one day I can gorge myself with all the mashed potatoes and green bean casserole that I want without having to worry about people staring.  Not only that, but I love getting together with my Grandma and Papa, my cousins that I don't see hardly at all during the school year, and my aunt and my uncle and enjoying time together that is really becoming more and more difficult to grasp.

4.  It's mah BIRTHDAY month

  I'm not the biggest happiest kid on my birthday like a lot of people, but I do still feel slightly more special than usual.  And I'm okay with that.  Mostly, I just like that the first month I lived through was November.  When I was a little itty bitty infant, and my eyes were first seeing the outside world, I saw November leaves before I saw spring flowers.  I felt a snowflake before my mom took me swimming.  I can't remember it, but I sure can feel it.  November feels magical to me.

This.

  I want to know why we define beauty as waist and breast size, how well her concealer covers her flaws, how soft and shiny her hair is, how tight her clothes fit or how much money she has to spend on them.  That's not beauty.  That will never be beauty.  Forget what society tells you, forget what those stupid meat head jerks say to each other, forget all of it.  Beauty is a state of fucking mind.  The way you walk is beautiful, the way you handle yourself is beautiful, the way you cry when no one is looking is beautiful.  Fuck, the way you cry when everyone is beautiful.  You are a beautiful human being.  You're extraordinary.  There is not one single person on this planet that thinks and acts like you do; embrace it.  Embrace your soft tummy.  Haven't you seen the famous paintings?  Girls aren't meant to be skin and bones!  Embrace that pimple on your forhead or that scar on your cheek.  You were born to be here, exactly as you are.  Fucking own it.

//

If you honestly gave a fuck, you would give an honest attempt to act like it.

Just.

  I have been considering career options quite a bit here lately, and two of my favorites include being a journalist or a photographer.  Last year, I took a journalism class at my high school and I am on the yearbook staff this year.  I'm also the historian for my choir, and I enjoy both writing and photography a lot.  I simply cannot decide.  Niether careers are the smartest choices, necessarily, in Michigan where the jobs are scarce and those two are always high in demand.