Finals week kills.

This is just going to be a quick post because I have to go to my tap classes soon.

I just wanted to say that I'm still alive; the problem is that I've been busy with school. I only have seven more days of school left until I'm finished with high school! Throughout the summer I will hopefully be making more blog posts, so you can look forward to that.

Taking the blame.

Ah- the first day back from break. For some odd reason I always have mountains of energy on the first day. I'm not entirely sure why this happiness is not a regular habit. It could be a lack of sleep. Or possibly it's just teenage angst.

I use that phrase often: teenage angst. I utilize it's powers of solving every mystery or emotional issue that a teen may have. I even use it to describe an action I have done; I blame my behavior and problems on this imaginary motif entitled teenage angst. My logic is impractical and clearly faulty for this is simply an excuse for inappropriate behavior.

Why do we, as imperfect humans, blame our issues on completely inrelatable objects or ideas? Why are we unable to take full responsibility of our own actions. Daily I hear the "lack of sleep" excuse or the "too busy" excuse. But, technically, who is to fault for these excuses? Ourselves.

As a child I had blamed my older brother for an uncountable number of things I did. I remember specifically a time when I had put soap in my sister's cup of water. I heard a scream from across the house. Merely moments after I could see my mother tromping across the living towards me and my brother. I lied. He took the blame.

An appropriate time for a Shoe bomb?

Today was my massive traveling day. I left the hotel in Los Angeles at 5:45am, then I arrived home in Indiana at 9:00pm. This was obviously a pretty intense day. However, through all of the madness of running through airports and boarding planes, I couldn't help but chortle at the silly, almost outrageous, things that people do.

My first observation is the size of peoples' "carry-ons." I brought my bookbag with my homework in it and my laptop on board as my carry-ons. In my view, carry-ons should consists of a bag of items you wish to use as entertainment on the plane ride, and a bag of items that you believe may get damaged if sent off on the luggage transporter. This, however, is apparently a false view. Most of the travelers brought huge suitcases onto the flight; they were waaayyyy over the size limit. It took them thirty-five minutes, after everyone had boarded, to cram every last suitcase into the over-head compartments. This baffled my mind. If you can afford plane tickets, then why not simply pay the twenty-five dollar fine to transport your luggage?

Another instance is when the flight from Los Angeles was about to land in Chicago: the gentleman sitting next to me decided that it was appropriate to mess around with his shoe. ... as if there were a bomb in it...

Additionally, always, without fail, there is someone who will turn on their cell phone during flight. Are people truly that addicted that they can't last a few hours without their cell phone?

These are not rants of anger, but more amazement at the quirky behavior that occurs on airplanes.

Lurking round the brim.

Alas, Spring Break is over. However, I can't say that I'm upset. I love a break every now and then, but it's nice to get back to the real world. In ten hours I'll be on my four hour flight back home. Home. Whenever I hear that word a sort of warm and comforting feeling comes across me both physically and mentally.

Immediately I have mental images of sitting on our red living room sofa, sipping hot cocoa with the fire burning. All of my family are there. Well, my brother, two sisters, and mother. It's Christmas Eve. We're sharing memories of each other and laughing at all of the absurdities that have come to pass. When it's my turn to speak, I look down into my cup; blowing the marshmellows round the brim hoping to discover a funny story lurking behind one of them. But, of course, I find nothing. Disappointed, I pass my turn and listen to the next.

It's funny what memories are recalled often. This occurrence described above has had absolutely no impact on my life. But it is one of my most thought of memories. Perhaps our memories amount to more than just a simple remembrance of some obscure event. Maybe they are more than just a trip of the human mind?

"A moment lasts all of a second, but the memory lives on forever."