This is real, this is me, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be

Kudos to you if you recognized that lyric. It's a relic of a reference... a decrepit piece of modern popculture.
It's Camp Rock...
Not generally a well remembered movie...

So lately, I've been doing LOTS of thinking.
Thinking about people...
Thinking about the 'identity crisis' that people face...
Thinking about confidence...

and the other day, I put away my laundry--a feat in and of itself--I realized something about this.

as I hung my last shirt on the rack and looked over to admire my work, I noticed something...

 

I was looking at a wall of t-shirts.
They were all different colors and all had different designs, pictures, and motifs that I'd graciously bestowed upon them. (this is obviously NOT from my closet)
now most people in my area who are my age and of the female persuasion don't quite have a closet like that. They normally have an assortment of fun different shirts that are all very stylish and classy.
As for me: I have my own class.

I wear a t-shirt and jeans pretty much every day, all of my t-shirts are different, and most of them have a touch of my creativity embellishing them to greatness. I wear my hair down and I usually wear tennis shoes.
hum.
That's interesting, eh?
Not quite your typical chick. Everyone's jealous, it's just not quite trending yet.
And it's not like I don't have that frilly nonsense, I just choose not to wear it.
This being said, to all of you out there who wear or enjoy that fru-fru, go right on, I'm not 'hating on' it at all, I'm just saying it's not me. Then again, from my stats it really doesn't look like anyone will ever read this at all anyway, so who cares? #iwantyoutochangeintosomethingmorefemininebeforelunch... but only one or two people would even get that...

My point here is,
Be yourself.
"imitation is suicide"
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The world has enough of those stupid people who all try to fit in and be the same, the greats are always the people who stand out:
Galileo
Thoreau (I mean the kid dropped out of Harvard and moved to a shack by a pond...)
Einstein
Poe
Dickinson
Yours truly... (well obviously...)

All of these people have taken the risk to stand for something else; they were unconventional. They didn't follow the norm.

So my point here is that you've got to be yourself, not so much stand out, because sometimes, you do fit with the crowd, but always know why you believe in what you're supporting. Don't be hasty.

#jealouswoman
and none of you will ever get that either.

Night, all.
Mmhmm.

Life with Siblings... Thanks, Mom.

This pretty much sums up the way I was raised...

Isn't it amazing what these two photos can do for you and your depiction of me as a person?

I've always (well...  for the past few years...) considered myself amazingly lucky to have the family that I do.  I think about it often, but because of recent events-- now more than ever.  I love my family soooo much.  We're all perfect for each other and I absolutely adore my siblings.
I grew up in (am still growing up in) a primarily happy house in which anything other than benevolent intentions did (/does) not fly.
It still blows my mind as to how my mom managed to do that so perfectly.

In all my years of observations, I've concluded that siblings typically magnify each other in public, which to an effect means that siblings bring out the best and the worst in each other.  ESPECIALLY IN PUBLIC.

Some of my siblings make me seem much smarter or much more sarcastic, others make me seem like a total stickler and a boring dweeb.  It all depends on who we're with.

Today, I fed some llamas with my youngest sister (as per the norm) and I really truly love her.  She's adorable in every way--even when she's not.

'Those Who've Seen Us Know that not a Thing Could Come Between Us"
~Irving Berlin

My sisters are THE GREATEST.  
'nuff said.

I come from probably the best family ever.  We're witty, hilarious, brilliant, artistic, musical, and Extremely humble.  Especially me.
[Right now I'm pretty much going crazy (as you can probably tell by the way that this is just weird and doesn't make much sense/is plausibly not at all interesting) because I've temporarily (in a sense) lost my brothers!  I have no one to stay up late and talk things through with...  which is why  this post is so meandering in content--I can't talk through it!]

All things considered this week, I've actually questioned some of my resolves.  My mom has been so stupendous that I want to be as cool as her too.  I'm considering abandoning a college career in music composition and going for sociology instead.  The field itself fascinates me and I think it would be even more applicable to life... after all, it's sort of all about life...

Ya, that's pretty much it.
I love my family. we're a great bunch.

Wanna know some of what makes us so fantastic?


Humor.

That's it for ya, folks.
For example, there was once an entire family road trip over which my two brothers decided to call me 'meg' not because it's my name, but because they had come up with some delusional idea to make it all interesting through making the trip into a documentary. They based in on a documentary I'd recently seen about wolves. I was the omega of the pack apparently, so that's what they called me. No hard feelings, really, I mean they did it to me because I'm good at reacting just right, and actually, I quite liked the attention of it...

ya, I could really talk about this forever, but I'd use up all of your precious time... and all of the commas known to man.

mmhmm.

HEROINE!

No, my dear readers, I've not been giving myself nasty injections and doing what I shouldn't have, I can assure you, I'm doing perfectly fine.
That's 'Heroin' and that's BAD.

So recently, I've been quite busy, as anyone who's been anxiously reading and waiting for any new posts could tell you (except that they don't actually exist... bummer...)

But I've done quite a lot that needs to be properly documented.
Like this lovely legend of my heroic awesomeness:

The Day I Saved my Entire Family from a Fiery Death:
Once upon a time, there existed such nasty things as online calculus classes. Children, that's what we call torture. Anyway, there was once a happier time in which I, being a very ambitious adolescent, decided that because of school scheduling difficulties, would take this route of self-education. That is what we call a mistake.
*clears throat as if to begin telling some awe-inspiring story* oh wait... that's exactly what I am doing... huh.

So! I was using this very same computer at which I sit now, finding derivatives and anti derivatives of equations (very fun stuff) and lo and behold, my dog walked in, pushing open the door. The room immediately filled with a most befouling stench. Somewhat troubled by the thought of my own home smelling so, I walked out into the hallway and into the kitchen, following a good deal of smoke. 
Just a side note here, smoke is almost always a bad sign... in your house anyway, I mean campfires emit smoke and those are cool, but that's completely different....
So I follow the smoke and find that it's billowing out of the oven.
(Oh ya, and by the way, at this point, I was in a spanish imersion block... so I wasn't really supposed to speak any english... to anyone... at all...)
I threw open the oven and found my dear mother's pumpkin seeds (probably my favorite snack item ever) on fire. In that moment, I decided to abandon the use of spanish temporarily and I ran to my parents. I informed my mother of the fire and she was a little bit panicked... as people should rightly be at this point.
My parents rushed in and I'd like to say that I smartly doused the flames with baking soda myself, but I can't(as that would be lying, and we all know where liars go--into politics [just kidding, please nobody come and egg my house.])
My ingenious father grabbed the baking soda and poured it over the flaming seeds of fiery wrath and my frazzled mother took the pan outside.

So there's the story, I single handedly (more or less) saved potentially my entire house--maybe neighborhood--possibly even city from the dangers of fire. You can just call me smokey the bear, fireman sam, girl of your dreams, etc... the list goes on and on.

I'm sure that was probably the most exciting read of the day for you, possibly even the whole month if you're not all that literate...

You're welcome.
____________ (signature in invisible ink)