Where to Go when there's Nowhere To Go

Where do you go when there's nowhere to go?

I was sitting in my apartment measuring longitudal waves with my physics slinky when my roommate and her two friends burst into the room talking very loudly the first night of marriage. My roommate's (let's call her miss wheat-she has celiac's disease) best friend is getting married in a few weeks, and I suppose in the euphoria of the whole experience they decided to have a party in my room, laughing and talking loudly while discussing very intimate and girlish things amongst their endless giggling. One of the girls decided to take and use some of my things, and after dodging around three excited girls and two pizzas scattered on the floor of my bedroom, I decided that perhaps the best place for me at this point in time would be very, very far away from them. Their euphoria and general sound level was making my brain confused and disoriented, and I was not eager for a night of listening to girl talk and jests about my "relationship" with Mr. Piano.

So I left. I had to drop off my homework in the science building, so I headed on campus. The problem with being on campus, however, is that everything closes down at 11:00 and it's not the best idea to be alone at night in a university setting. I had options for the next four hours, but none of them involved what I would consider to be an ideal Friday night. And I didn't grab my Oreos either, so that was even more of a bummer.

What am I supposed to do? I felt as though I was practically shoved out of my apartment. I didn't belong there anymore and staying there would be pure torture. On the other hand, there is not a way to really be comfortable anywhere on campus. I'm stuck in a position where I have nowhere to belong. More than anything I want to have a quiet night in where I can watch a TV show and read a book and eat apples and peanut butter. I've been waiting for the weekend for so long, feeling as though I don't belong anywhere feels more tragic than it should. (heeey-watch for a post on entitlement comin' soon!)

Where do I go?


UPDATE: (not really, since I'm writing this in conjunction with the rest of the post) While I was writing this I was sitting in the science center and Mr. Piano came by to drop off his homework. What a coincidence that I just happened to be sitting in the exact right area to run into Mr. Piano at just the right time before his work started so that we could run into each other! It's like it was planned or something (hem hem)

Date Night

I asked Mr. Piano on a date.

HOLY CARP DANG IT IM GOING ON A DATE IN 30 MINUTES

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

okay here's the thing- my roommates decided they wanted to have a big "roommate date night" and we're all going to a movie. They pretty much made me ask Mr. Piano out, not that I put up much of an objection.

This guy is a total nerd. He listens to video game soundtracks while he studies and he brings legend of zelda to class. He knows every nerdy reference and was thrilled that I brought the one ring to school today.

He's so adorable!

I'm pretty much on the same level, although not nearly as much of a gamer.

I've already discussed my daily clothing choices and my casual wear, and style is not my thing. I never get fancy for anything. I choose comfort over looks.

I'm a nerd. Mr. Piano is a nerd. And yet, I chose to wear the fanciest shirt I own, the nicest jeans (which I washed specially so they would be perfect tonight), a necklace, bangle bracelets, boots (which I NEVER wear outside of church), and I had my roommate straighten my hair. I fretted about when to shower. I worried about my teeth. I kept glancing nervously in the mirror to make sure my hair falls just right.

I have tried so hard to look incredible and be clean and fashionable not because my roommates made me, because society dictates that I do, or because I'm trying to "earn" the admiring looks of a guy. I've already won them. I'm dressing up because I enjoy it.

Nowadays, with so much political correctness flying about and neighbors ripping each others throats out about how girls and teenagers have impossible standards they feel they have to live up to, and how looks define a girl, I feel that we're loosing a grip on one fundamental truth.

Dressing up feels nice.

It makes us feel dignified and clean and whole. Taking off the drudgery of work or school clothes and putting on something clean and flattering cheers us up more than it should. We look in the mirror and see someone beautiful, someone happy and lively and cheerful. We see that image and our posture, our minds, and our attitudes reflect our reflection.

And that change of attitude can make any day incredible.

...
....
.......

I'M GOING ON A DATE!!!!!!

Worthy

I have made a huge mistake.

I haven't touched a piano in two months.

I spent over 10 years of my life hating every minute of practicing the piano. For years I only looked at my music when I had my weekly 30-minute piano lesson. I avoided any repetition or development of basic skills. I cursed the metronome and I spat on theory. Despite my attempts to NOT learn piano, I was envious of the talent my friends had and I wanted to be so much like them.

I just wasn't willing to put in the work.

Time passed, and as I began to appreciate the few songs I could play well over and over again, I used the piano as a way to overcome stress, anxiety, energy, and sheer boredom. However, I never took practicing seriously. If I couldn't play it well, I didn't play it.

You can see the flaw in my logic, of course.

The last thing that I was learning how to play before I went off to college was Clair de Lune by Debussy. I loved that piece. For me, it was a culmination of my years of piano. I got pretty far in it, too-I could play the whole song moderately well, and I was beginning to memorize it.

Then I moved to Utah.

I got distracted. I put away my music and I didn't touch it. I learned, I laughed, I cried, and I watched a whole bunch of Netflix. I thought about practicing, but I kept putting it off. I could come back to it later.

I met a guy. He was in my physics class. We talked a lot, and he told me he was considering majoring in piano performance for a while. I was thrilled, of course. We both had spent our lives submersed in music! He practiced every morning when the piano at his apartment complex was free.

The more I thought about it however, the worse I felt. I was the exact opposite of him. He loved piano, and had pursued with the passion and determination it deserved. I had rebelled against it my entire life. And now, I had gone two whole months without even attempting to practice. How could I think that I shared the same love as him? I had not worked hours on end, nor had I regarded my talent as a precious treasure to be preserved and nurtured.

Now, more than ever, I miss playing the piano. I truly do. I want so badly to be allowed to sit down on the bench and feel the ivory keys submit beneath my touch. I want to feel the music flow from my fingers to my heart and hear the hours of practice and devotion magnify in the most glorious way.

I want to be worthy....

4:15

It's 4:15 in the morning. I haven't slept.

I need to say something, but I don't know how.

I think I'll just go to bed and try to sleep again.

Obligation of Friendship

Last Saturday, as I was pondering my purpose at college and eating Chick-fil-a waffle fries, I was approached by a physics classmate wondering why on earth I would be on campus on a Saturday morning. He wasn't one of the really strange physics guys who really live up to their stereotype, so the moment wasn't completely ruined, but I wasn't in much of a mood to talk. I only mentioned physics homework, awkwardly and begrudgingly

He apparently didn't get the hint, because he then offered to show me where the physics lab was, right then and there.

I went. I needed to know.

Over the next two hours, we walked up to north campus, realized we both lived south, turned around, walked to his apartment, realized my apartment was 7 blocks in the opposite direction, and walked there.

The following week, he sat next to me whenever we had class together. My roommates went berserk over the whole situation, but I was happy to finally have a friend under no obligations.

What do I mean by "no obligations"? I have three roommates, and we're all best buds. I have a friend I do physics homework every day with. I sit next to an old friend from good 'ole California in our only class together. I hang out with my cousins and have a great time with them.

All of these people have an obligation to be my friend. I have to be friendly and enjoy my roommates, or else my college experience sucks. I live with them. I became friends with the girl in my physics class simply because we are the only girls in that class, and we needed study partners. I have to be friends with the guy from back home because we have always been friends, and we share a common background. (also I had a huuuge crush on him in 5th grade but that's another story). And my cousins are my family. They have to make me feel welcome in this crazy new life of college.

Every friendship I have here can be traced back to a moment when we knew we would have to form bonds between us or things wouldn't work out well. This in no way detracts from the friendship or compromises its legitimacy, but there is a certain attitude about the relationship that makes it seem tragic and frail.

So you can imagine how happy I was to know that someone, without any want, need, social duty or other obligation was actually interested in me, and me alone. He didn't need to stop and ask why I was at school on a Saturday morning, nor did he have to scan the room to find me and sit at the desk closest to mine.

But he did. And because he did I feel as though there is something about me that can encourage a friendship, something special that captured someone's attention and gave me an opportunity to show myself to another.

In short, I'm on top of the world.

Dear Diary....

Dear Diary,

     I know we haven't talked in a while, and I'm not sorry. I have never enjoyed writing mundane events that happen to pass through my life and quite frankly, writing to you about them bores me. I'd rather be out making new memories then shutting myself in my room missing out while I describe in happy exclamations and silly details what exactly I won't care about tomorrow.
     
     "Ah-ha!" you say. "You are writing to me now, and that must mean you have repented of your foolish thoughts!" Not so, Mr. Diary. I would rather be doing next Friday's physics homework than write to you. However, my dear friend Mr. Hamster has requested that I write about my day.

      I wrote an 81 page novella for the guy. Don't take this personally, please.

      Today I had the good fortune of waking up. I was not dead this morning, and as far as some people are concerned, that's a pretty darn good day. I had been up until about 2 in the morning shopping with my roommate (since I literally did not have any food left but for a few sticks of butter, bread, peanut butter, and oreos),  so I slept through my first alarm at 8:30 and did not wake until 9:00. I was perturbed, but as my first class did not start until 12:00, I accepted it gracefully. As soon as I got out of bed I put on shorts, grabbed my keys and my phone, took my daily allegra, and headed out for a run. I have to run the moment I wake up or else my mind wakes up and my will not to run dominates my desire to have the strength of a lion.

     The sun was already rising from the top of Y mountain, which was unfortunate, because it meant that I would have to deal with the harsh 70 degree weather that plagued Utah, instead of the cool 65 degrees, a much more suitable temperature. I started off straight south towards the park, but before I had the time to get out of breath, I beheld an orange tabby feline walking regally along the sidewalk. It was a friendly cat, and in no time at all I became suspicious of its curious sniffing and fled from it. The run was uneventful and short enough that I can waste no time in describing the breathless ache in my throat and the constant desire for more oxygen. It sucked. I ran less than a mile before turning back and heading up the hill that unfortunately my apartment lay at the top of. After returning there, I walked a few blocks to another park, where I stretched. Upon entering my apartment, I pulled out my resistance band and went through some strengthening exercises. They sucked. See if you can spot a theme here.

    At about 10:30 I took a shower and got ready for the day ahead. Since I had time, I typed and printed the words "Magna Cum Laude", "Strength", and "Dream" and posted them on the bulletin board above my bed, to remind me of what I am here for. I will expound upon this at a later date. After which I packed my backpack and headed off to school. As I left the apartment, my roommate ran out after me and told me to wait, as she would like to walk to school with me. I patiently waited for her, and we set off together. I had no trouble keeping conversation with her, as I had gotten to know her a little and could make conversation on topics that both interested us. As we drew nearer to the school, I was passed by a super hot guy that I haven't met but have seen exactly two times before. I pointed this out to my roommate and we were instantly in giggles. I parted from her shortly and headed off to my religion class. I texted Mr. Hamster and sat next to Mr. Cookies as I listened to the interesting lecture. After religion, I had an hour to spend as I saw fit. I headed to the math lab building and ate my lunch as I reviewed my homework and found many mistakes that I could not for the life of me figure out how to fix. I found this was not in the good spirit of Magna cum laude, and I resolved from then on to always find a way to achieve a 100% on my homework. In math lab we reviewed new problems based on what we had learned in lecture the day before, and then were given time to start the homework due next class. I had not gotten far before our 50 minutes was up. I walked out of class and found my way to the math lab, where everyone can work together and get help from hired tutors. I spent the next 2 hours completing my next homework assignment with a few errors that I felt I could resolve with my friends the next day in lecture. I packed up and headed over to the science center to the physics lab, which is pretty much the same thing as the math lab. I spent the next 2 hours completing the homework due the next day and reading a ridiculous amount of stuff about thermodynamics in the textbook.

     Since I had no more homework left and had unfortunately run out of pretzel sticks, I packed up and headed back home. I dropped off my backpack, ate soup, a banana, wheat thins, and apples and peanut butter, and then pulled out my homework so I could finish the assignments due the next day. I watched a few music videos from HTTYD and worked on writing. After I had finished, I watched some more videos. My roommate decided then to go to bed at the unholy hour of 9:30, so I had to sit in the kitchen to work on anthropology. I made some tea, which turned out to be disgusting, and spent an hour reading the first chapter in the book my professor wrote. Boring as heck. I decided, once I had finished, that I was done with homework for the night. As it was only 10:30, I debated doing my physics homework early, but instead was asked by Mr. Hamster to write this blog post. I have spent an hour doing this, and will go to bed shortly so I can get up and run tomorrow morning.

    best regards,
Ariel Liddell

A College Life is a Lonely One...

One of my roommates, out on a date;
One of my roommates, staying out late;
One of my roommates always with friends;
And here I am sitting on my bed watching Merlin with my physics homework next to me, done three days before it's due.

What's wrong with me?

I have heard about the magic of making so many friends in college, of sharing wonderful experiences together, and of building lasting relationships that may last for eternity.

That is for other people.

I am an introvert. I cannot stand crowded places or any sort of chaos that involves people. I get stomachaches from loud music and flashing lights and the stinky mass of sweaty people. My happiest moments of the week are when my roommates walk out the door. I love my own space to squeal and absorb myself in whatever I want whenever I want to, without feeling obligated to talk to someone. And for the love of all that's good and sacred in this world, don't feel sorry for me and sit next to me when I'm apart from the group.

But for all my desire to really just be alone most of the time, I would give up pretty much anything to have a good friend.

A good friend (n)- a person who can understand both silence and chattering, who can appreciate and respect both. Feels comfortable and content just to be in the same room as their friend, without feeling the pressure or need to make conversation. Must be known long enough to be familiar and almost habitual. Can appreciate sarcasm and fire it back with ease. And, most importantly, must make an introvert feel she can be herself when in their presence (and must be able to hang out with said introvert for more than and hour without seriously irritating her).

I have had about 3 friends in my lifetime that fit this description, all at different stages. One I knew pretty much since I was born until we split up around third grade. The second I met in elementary school and was with her almost everyday until seventh grade. The third and last I met in sixth grade, but did not understand how perfect he was until my senior year. He remains the best and most treasured friend I have ever had.

With that kind of track record, how am I supposed to "Get out and make some friends"? That just doesn't happen!

But for the first time away from my friends, family, and everyone I grew up with, I finally understand how important it is to have someone close by who I can love, trust, and confide in. I need someone in my daily life I can live for every day and would be willing to die for. I search for faces in the crowd, hoping one will look back at me with understanding eyes and a heart that will accept me for my own value. It is a futile search, yet I never give up the hope that I will find the perfect friend that I can live for day by day.

Or else I just really need a hug. I'm not sure.

Curse you Merlin and all your feels.

Edit: I forgot to mention, I have one other good friend. She has stayed by my side all my life, no matter what trials I have gone through. She will never betray me and she has always comforted me. She never speaks ill of me and she never annoys me or irritates me. Her name is Angel. She is 17 years old. She is also a rabbit.

Angel

On Shoes and the World of Shopping Malls

Hello!

Yesterday my new roommate invited me to go shopping with her and her sister. I said yes, without thinking that it actually meant clothes shopping. At the mall.

Considering how I'm an introvert, I'm not entirely certain what strange tricks my mind was trying to pull on me to put me in a completely new person's company in a situation that I have absolutely no experience or confidence in. Seriously, what the heck, brain?

Anyway, since I figure I'm too scared of people to say "No shut up and leave me alone", I tagged along. I learned some very interesting things about these strange creatures called "girls".

First: she needed some of literally every article of clothing known to man. Of course she had some extenuating circumstances that I could sympathize with, but still. First we went to find shoes.

Apparently, when girls pick out shoes, they choose based on what looks cute. They literally walk through the store picking up shoes and saying, "Oh, this is cute," and proceed to pass the cash without further ado.
There are several things about this simple yet horrifying process that make me cringe. First of all, most of the shoes in the store are pieces of fabric sown together. There is no arch support, no absorbent material, no rounded toe and no tread. In fact, most of them look like they're impossible to run in. Some girls even buy high heels by choice.
I am a runner. I run all the time. My whole life has been focused on running whenever I want to. So the prospect of getting a shoe that has no business supporting a foot is insane to me. I'd rather go barefoot. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about looking like a stiff legged doll when I run and destroying my knees.
Second of all, I have spent the majority of my life choosing shoes that fit my needs. I have to have shoes that don't have a weak foam of the outside of the heel, a strong support on the arch, and a deep heel pocket thing. Why? because when I run, I need special inserts in my shoes that support my foot and push the heel out and the toes in (or something like that) to prevent me from over compensating for my 30 degree scoliosis curve in my lumbar spine.
So when I describe that to the person at the shoe store, they pull out a box, and if it works, I take it. I don't really care if it's got a cute bow on it or if it's too flashy. I can't. There aren't a lot of great shoes that fit my needs.

I do draw the line at red, however.

so after she rejected all the shoes at that store, (including the shark high heels, unfortunately) we moved on to shirts. We went to H&M. And then she commanded me to pick out at least 5 shirts to try on.
No problem. I found 8. she found 3 or 4. The stuff I got was super cute and I envisioned them looking great on me.
Trying them on was just a formality, because I know from a long time of experience that none of them would work. There simply is not any article of clothing from any top-fashion "back to school" hip cute girl with perfect proportions store that would fit me. I don't know if I just don't have the body for it or if I'm just so used to t-shirts that anything else scares me.
But I did try them on and no, none of them worked. But it was fun to dream. My roommate found 2 shirts that you would not catch me dead in.

We split up after that and I headed off to Eddie Bauer. Everything in that store is SO STINKIN CUTE and lots of it looks good on me! I got a new shirt and jeans and fantasied about buying tons of other things out of my budget range.

The reason Eddie Bauer is the only store that can sell me clothes is because it is a store devoted to outdoor recreation and activity.

End of story.

So I don't understand girls at all. Their ability to choose clothes and shoes that look great on them just by seeing what's "cute" is way beyond my mental capacity. I'm a physics major.

Aren't these GREAT??

Update

Well, well, it has been a long time. I've had quite a lot to write about, but the personal nature of the majority of it has kept me from actively pursuing my blog. Just to catch up, however:

I have graduated high school

I have been accepted into college, and

I live in Utah now.

My favorite part about the joys of university life is the incredible library. I sit in there for hours on end and write. Oh yes, and I finished my first novella, a parody of the wizard of Oz. I wrote it specifically for my best friend, purely because on a whim I promised that I could write a whole notebook about him. I wrote 81 pages and quite frankly I think it may be my greatest accomplishment. Handwrittten, of course, but if I ever get around to typing it up I will post it. I wrote a guest post on my brother's blog as well. It took me a good three minutes to write it and it is absolutely ridiculous. I had to write it in my brother's usual style, which is crazy and stupid and brilliantly  hilarious. He's 30.
I also had the good fortune to attend a sports camp, and put myself through a whole lot of pain. On the plus side, I wrote a solid five pages about literally everything I learned. I also wrote about some very difficult emotional struggles I have had.
That's all fine and dandy, but the big news is that I have started a novel.

and it sucks.

there's a lot to be said for planning ahead. I wrote my beginning and then realized I needed an awful lot more stuff in there to get the reader to connect with the situation. So I figure I'll have to go back and re-write it, but I think it's solid enough that I can continue on with the story anyway. Once I get things going far enough, I will post some of it, if not all. Maybe promising the few dozen or so stray readers (glancers, more like) a story will persuade me to finish.

On Ignorance

I recently talked with a friend of mine and he said something quite pessimistic, but critical nonetheless. He said that no student was really interested in learning anything, and that was the problem with us all. The topic was related to how incredible the findings of Newton and Galileo were, and the amount of work they dedicated to their discoveries. In his opinion, the ability to access such a vast amount of information at any time was degrading the average student's desire to learn. Although his claim may have some basic truth underlining it, I did not agree.
But that's not what I want to write about. I want to consider what students are being taught in school. Actually, if I wrote about everything I though about that broad of a subject, I may write my first novel. In this case, I'm limiting it to the ideas expressed by my friend.
When I was in elementary school, the world was perfectly clear and understandable. Science was fact, and my Bill Nye the science guy knew all there was to know about science. The same happened in middle school. I knew about how ignorant the world used to be about science, how things worked, disease, and basic indoor plumbing. The masses were ignorant and stupid. Nobody knew anything back then! The twenty-first century, however, was a glorious time in which all discoveries were made and all that was left for science was to patch in a few holes here and there.
What a fool I was.
When I hit high school, I became aware, for the first time in my life, about how little we actually know. There are so many unanswered questions in every field of learning, especially physics and astronomy, that I believe we have only begun to scratch the surface of the true mysteries of the universe. The world we live in is a mass of mystery and constant discovery. Discovery through research and investigation is so vital the continuation of making new improvements in  medicine and so much more.
There is so much left to be uncovered. But if you asked me to name a few ideas to be yet explored, I would be left without a clue after a few measly suggestions.
In school, we learn facts. Of course the advancement of the courses and the type of school has a definite influence in the level of critical thinking taught and quality of a true education (and by true I mean to say an education that allows for not only facts but an understanding of the application and importance of basic concepts). However, much of education is lacking in the exploration of finding and solving problems that are current and relevant to the student. I've done quite a few "research" papers in my time as a student, but most resembled a collection of facts and quotes strung together by my own fluff. Original ideas are hard to find and hard to write. There is so little original thought coming from essays and papers designed to teach formulating and proving a new idea. I have heard teachers beg their classes not to write another paper about the hazardous influence of media on teenagers. I have bluffed my own papers and searched out other people's ideas so I wouldn't have to come up with and defend my own. To be honest, the prospect of creating a new idea and defending it in writing scared me. At the same time, I longed for the opportunity to exemplify my mental prowess and my contribution to the literary and scientific community.
Why should I be afraid to speak up and state my opinion? Am I scared of the grade that would ultimately doom my perfect GPA if I dared to suggest something new and clash with a preconceived norm? In fear of a teacher that would reject my philosophy?
In school we should learn how to find and defend our own ideas. If we are wrong, then let us change our hypothesis without the retribution that comes as a red slash and a failed paper. The only way to learn how to find what really works is to fail until perfection. In school, there is no room for that. We are graded on accuracy, not the strength of an argument. I knew a student who dared to suggest that Piggy was the Christ figure in Lord of the Flies. He presented his arguments and stood up to the teacher. He was shot down.
There are too little people wiling to state an argument and join in the great conversation of discovery, and there are too many people who will blindly accept what they are told in school and never seek out new learning. It isn't as though they are unable to create, either. Each individual has the ability and opportunity to do something new and great. Some of us take it. School is a guiding force towards success. How are we to achieve success by learning facts that can be easily found with a few key words typed into a search bar? We should really learn to find, present, and prove our own arguments.

One other thing school doesn't teach is how difficult it is to write a blog post on a smartphone.