Enjoying your Stay.

Often times I'll find myself daydreaming about being 20 or 21 with a job and a small place somewhere. Enough to live and have some nice clothing and maybe even some fancy possessions if I save enough money.

Then I get back to life and realize I'm still 18 and on vacation after one semester of college.

That I still live with my parents and eat the food my mom cooks and have my meals played at restaurants and I go back to daydreaming with some level of illogical shame.

"Meh" both of my parents went when I mentioned this once. "You're the last one we got [in the nest]!"

"If I can't treat you, then who else?"

The sentiment is sweet. And I'll always appreciate it.

But time's a-tickin' and I'll have to occupy myself with other things as well.

I can't wait for the break to be over. I miss college! Where's the challenge?! Where's the pressures of being on your own?! Where's the life-destroying sword of Damocles?! I miss that demented game of minesweeper which came with the instilled mentality of the college shift: everything in life was at stake every time I did an art project, or wrote an essay, or took a math test!

I genuinely miss being at my wit's end all the time!

Now that there's no work to be done and no new news from my school. . . .I'm not sure what to do.

"Enjoy your stay." I tell myself. But what kind of stay is this? Nirvana isn't for me anymore, I don't think.

I'm not cut out for babysitting.

If my schedule doesn't work out I'll get a job! If it does work out, I'll stress out over that.

But right now, at this very instant?.

At least Sherlock season 3 is on.

N.S.

Stardust

If I could trade my art and writing skills for physical strength and a strong understanding on math, I would become an astronaut.

It seems better to just be in the void of space and learn about the stars instead of staying on this little marble.

If I seem disillusioned to you, it's because it feels like a better outcome than just being angry, even if in anger I can still feel the potential for home and change.

Or maybe I'm confusing anger for passion.

Instead of becoming passionate about the world against all odds, I'm just becoming sad.

Which is even more depressing, since I cant help but view those who don't care as bad people.

"But why would you view them as bad people?!" No one said I chose to. I'm a human being with a very narrow and linear thought process--anything highly against my ideals is viewed as "less worthy" or "bad".

If I seem nutty to you, it's because I am. We all are. Take solace in the fact you're not alone in this madness.

And because I become angry at those less compassionate than I-- because I valued that passion that came with compassion for so long--I became a nuisance.

Do I care less now? No. I'm just tired of no one understanding or being as upset?

Should this have passed years ago with me integrating into society with everyone else? Why is compassion and thinking things can and should change seen as childish, anyhow?

I can tell you now what I'm passionate about isn't a coincidence. And that it really does effect a ton if people--namely me, and everyone I've ever cared for. I'm a female minority in a state with no voting power! I focused on making myself educated because I deemed myself unlovable as a baby!* What else did anyone expect me to do?!

Maybe someday the people I live with will understand, or I'll move in with people who do.

Who knows. I'm only 18.

With love
Nick Strange.
----------------------
*what I decided the first time in picked up a Harry Potter book (elementary school; six or seven years old) is a telling sign of what we teach young girls and what my personality is: I was not barbie. I wasn't going to be popular or beautiful or loved by boys, so I decided I wanted to smart and powerful instead. I wanted to command boys and demand things from them like a boss.

And I decided I'd focus on good stuff, too.

Tonight

Tonight, my best friend turned 18.

She's the second youngest of our group of friends, and tonight she joined the ranks of the legal adults!

Only, of course, we're not actually adults. Not in behavior, anyway. Not in maturity.

We ran to one another as though it had been a million years, spoke loudly and chortled in our laughter.

Essentially, we were the annoying kids at the back of the restaurant (I am deeply ashamed).

Somewhere between catching up and emotional Disney sing-alongs, the funeral I had just went to the week before came to mind:

I saw my cousins for the first time since I was born--all fine men and women between 25-35, perpetually frozen as scrappy teenagers in the stories I heard from my parents.

Despite trying to stay on my best behavior and converse like a grown-up, they were very understanding of my childish Facebook name, slouched posture, and goofy grins.

One cousin even reminded me of all the times her and my older sister drove around for food and to check out boys! I'm not sure how she felt about my going to cons, but she didn't judge.

Juxtaposing those girl my cousin spoke of--the ones who waisted gas on "mensada y media"--to the girls and boys at the restaurant tonight, I couldn't help but laugh to myself.

Both sets were barely gaining the ability to think complexly, and we believed ourselves so mature but a year ago!

Half-serious, we joked about our de-maturing before a wiser, more honest friend laughed out "No, we just pretended to be more mature!"

When asking my mom about how normal that was, she just shook her head, saying this was the most mature thing in the world. That we're growing up just fine.

Maybe letting go is first step to really growing up.

Be Kind to Yourself.

You will learn in time.

Be Graceful with mistakes.

You will learn in time.

Be patient with unlearning things.

You will learn in time.

Be kind with yourself.

You will understand.

Imaginary Scenarios

A song I forgot the title of once gave me the best two lines in a stanza I've ever heard in my life:

"The best moments of my life
I think I saw them on TV."

And for the first time in my life I knew what restlessness was. The rage fuel inside of your gut: the winds moving and the volcanoes erupting inside. The urge to move mountains and run through rivers and seize some unattainable feeling of euphoria.

And then the restlessness died away with a fizzle and silence after a friend pointed out it's our fault for not going out and doing things.

I knew I wouldn't do much, so I couldn't mind much anymore.

But today I realized something: I am a person with a huge amount of potential. Beyond what I've said before. I have the potential of being someone's wife someday.

I can be the emotional support/co-op partner in crime to another human being. They Bonney to someone else's Clyde.

Beyond any other amazing idea that's crossed my mind--from traveling time to patenting clothing to renovating housed to make them look authentically abandoned--this is the most incredible. The chance to touch and be touched.

The chance to do something beyond all understanding.

If we're all capable of loving and being loved, who's to say we aren't capable of living and being lived.

For once I understood Belle.

Drink up the fountain of life!

Try and say "yes", before life passes you by.

Stop trying to "figure it out" already.

Today, I found an image of the original description of the F.R.I.E.N.D.S cast (or what tumblr claimed to be the original description for the cast).

Monica, Rachel, Pheebs, Ross, Joey, and Chandler haven't change much at all from that original description at all, and I love them for it. These characters played a central part in my childhood, and to this day hold a special spot in my heart for it.

What managed to get me thinking was what they were all doing together--they were "all trying to figure it out".

It occurred to me no one I've ever known--even my parents or aunts, grandmother, or great-grand mother (from the stories I've heard), sisters or older friends--have ever really "figured it out". And then I realized how a once solemn, profound and calming phrase was actually really vague.

Does anyone know what "it" actually is?

We can usually assume "it" is another phrase for "life". It's actually a pretty accurate representation. Life is vague. Life is scary and all-encompassing and we have to cope with "it" since there's no getting around existing, less you're dead.

I sincerely hope you're not dead. I love you all.

Unless of course, you're actually a dead ghost reading this over someone's shoulder. In which case, good on you, ghosty! I love you too!

But I digress: "figuring it out" is an impossible task, as tangible as it may seem when you try and think about it. To figure out what life is supposed to be about for you is assuming the purpose is already set before you're even alive. Or that you're going to have things smooth out as soon as you find the one thing you want to do more than anything else with your life.

It implies deliberate planning. It implies smooth choices or smooth endings. Or at the very least that soul-crushing endings cannot occur. That those things happen to other people, but you've got "it" figured out so you're okay, right?

No one has this. No one's got the perfect life, and no one should expect themselves or others to have this wonderful life even a fraction of the time.

Among the glossy autobiographies and True Hollywood stories or even pretty and cutsey Facebook updates, we lose sight of the hard details and life's challenges each and every one of us faces every day.

So if you're scared, or angry, or saddened today, take a deep breath. Relax. You are in very good company. The rest of the world, actually. Eventually, you're gonna be okay.

With Love
Nikola Strange.

I am artist. . . .thing.

Sometimes I feel as though I'm cheating myself when I say "I'M AN ARTIST, LULZZ!!" and never post any art. Like people are judging and I have something to prove.

Realistically speaking, no one gives a shit.

But I do, so I'll be posting up some things I sorta still like.

I don't know if I can put up any of my AP porfolio up before turning it in, but to be honest it's all I've had time to do at the moment. I'd like to know if it's okay before putting anything up online, so for now have some old stuff! :D

It started with a bubble and turned into a face.

Lifescout Badges

Taking a bit from one of my favorite people on the internet. . . . ever, Charlie McDonnell and Alex Day, I’ve decided to try and post up a group of little something called “Lifescout Badges”, an idea by Mr. Day, or Nerimon on YouTube, to make Boy or Girlscout badges for things most human beings are generally excited about as a means of motivation!

Here goes, and good luck not falling asleep *wink*:

Learning how to Archery
Most recently I took an Archery class with one of my best friends at our town’s Olympic Training Centers. It was the absolute bomb, and I couldn’t have enjoyed it more. We kept making LOTR and Brave references and took extra delight in making the yellow Thandrul’s face.

Learning to ride a bike
I was about 13 I’ll say when I first learned how to ride a bike (yes, I was old). I took my neighbor’s old rusted bike, about two sizes too big for me, and tried to not crash into cars (a task more daunting than you can believe). I’ve had past horrible experiences with bikes, including ramming into a car right when a group of older boys were walking by. . . . that day was not a nice one. I’m proud I actually got back on the bike after that, though.

Learning to swim
Oh man that was fun! I almost drowned that day, but I managed to “swim” to the deep end of the pool and not die! I can’t remember how old I was, but it’s been a while: during a family vacation (and by this I mean my immediate family plus a boatload of extended family members) to a place called Muleje in Baja California, Mexico, I was the one kid in a group of at least six that could not swim. It was the first thing I sought to learn upon reaching the pool. Though I didn’t win any races that year, I did finally earn passage onto the deep end and that was good enough for me.

Un peu. Je ne parle pas bien le français
(I totally know wtf this means).

Learning a different language
English is not my first language! That’s not an uncommon thing here in the States, actually, especially considering that my hometown’s a massively diverse area. Yet I still hold some pride and resentment towards that five year old whom refused to speak Spanish in school for the entirety of kindergarten just to be able to speak in English with all the other kids in the neighborhood: I learned English via Pokémon and “chick flicks”, yet I wasn’t allowed to take my school’s bilingual classes, thus killing my ability to communicate in Spanish much farther than the average helper in a business setting (believe it or not, it’s not much. It makes me sad.) I’m currently taking French and took three years of Japanese (don’t ask me to speak or type in either please! I’m terrible!)

Look at it! OMG it's got little stubby legs! :D

Holding a snake
One of the first people I ever considered to be a friend was a proud owner of a small snake. She was an absolute beauty we’d take care of together. I really loved it as a kid, and remember it fondly now as a sort of adult.

Having a pet
We have owned a couple dogs at my house! Lots of dogs, actually. I want to try my hand a cat at some point in life, particularly a Munchkin cat named Napolecat (or Gatoleon in Spanish).

We're also called the Urban Knights!
That's a pretty damn awesome name!

Making it into collage
I made it into the Academy of Art University in San Francisco! Sure, that’s not a big deal considering their lack of criteria, but to me it’s an important first step! I wasn’t sure I even really wanted to go to College, despite my AP class credits (I took ‘em for funsies). Finding a passion in animation set things in motion for me, especially when I found out I sort of fit the bill really well for what an animator should be—artistic, creative, attention to detail, history nut, keen on diversity over routine, a bit of a tech nerd. I found something and that’s important to me, less I’d refused to evolve as a person at all.

As proof, here's a busy
Street in SF herself!

Going to San Francisco
I went to San Fran to visit the Collage I wanted to go to, actually, with my best friend (whom will be dorming with me and eventually renting an apartment with me). The city’s a gorgeous place, and definitely earns its’ reputation for being one of the healthiest cities in America—the hills are ridiculous! You cannot afford to eat junk food there, less you’re one of the elite few whom have the luxury of being able to afford the parking meters (and even they looked mad at the prices)! All in all, after you’ve found your way around, it’s a small place, and rather cozy, yet still so much more vast than my own humble hometown.

Moving out of Mom and Dad’s
This one’s a technicality, I think. . . .but I still think it’s an important first step in my life. When I went to San Francisco to visit my collage, I got sick on the last day and got scared. Because of this, I was silently crying on the way back home, and it didn’t help that I had dropped my phone in the car and thus lost communication to the rest of the world (and my parents, more specifically my mother). So, partly for scholarships and partly for my own sake, I moved into my older sister’s house. I set my own alarms, make my own breakfast and dinner, and spend most of my days alone since my sister’s a workaholic. Sure, my mother babysits my nephew and still takes me to school, but I’m removing myself some, which I feel is important for me at the moment.

Going to Disneyland
Who, by God, in all the world doesn’t love Disney, or at the very least didn’t love Disney at some point in their lives? I personally adore it! Every bit of i—well, almost every bit of it. Despite being a national treasure of sorts, I don’t think Disney’s too big to critique, but I digress.  Disneyland’s a wonderful, beautiful place, that in my mind never ceases to be amazing. As children, we’re all tricked to believe it’s this magical kingdom where all dreams come true and no bad things happen. As an older person, I’ve come to appreciate that trick. Bad things happen all the time, but escapism never ceases to refresh the optimistic (and I do this I’m pretty optimistic, for a pessimist).

Going to a party
I’m an antisocial schizoid, so parities are few and far between for me! I’m not proud of the actions displayed by peers whom attend these parties with me (I’m usually the killjoy in the corner, pretending not to know anybody), but in the end it’s sort of lovely to see my friends having fun, even if it’s not the type of fun I would normally have. In all their imperfections, my friends are perfect and I enjoy seeing them like that—natural. A person never looks more beautiful than they do while wearing their everyday expressions and walking in everyday life. I seriously need a stalker camera to catch them in the act of being beautiful.

Going to the Zoo
Zoos!! My hometown has a world-famous zoo, which I’ve visited over the years and still greatly enjoy going to! As of late, I’ve only gone because of my nephews and siblings, but I desperately want to go again to sketch out the animals some. I love sketching out animals, and sometimes googling an image isn’t enough of a challenge! XD

Made the playbill and
drew up costumes. ;)

Going to a school event
Again, I’m a bit of a schizoid so this is a rare activity for me: my best friend was in a play*, which I actually had contributed a lot of my time to, not to mention I knew a lot of people in the play and was close with the teacher, so I was obliged to go. I thoroughly enjoyed it! Seeing those jolly idiots spout Shakespere at each other might be the highlight of my senior year.

Going to Cancun
I got to go on my ninth birthday! My biggest memories were a) extending my birthday to an entire week so I could get cake and “las mananitas” sung to me at every restaurant, b) my cousin and uncle thoroughly annoying my older sister, c) pretending I was old enough to drink with unalchoholic pina coladas, d) meeting a little dude whom looked so much like my father we kept making “long-lost son” jokes, and e) getting a stern talking to by a French lady whom was also staying at our hotel, presumably over how “Madmuaselle” wouldn’t apply to a woman of her age, and how I shouldn’t have been uttering French if I couldn’t speak it!

Badges I still need to earn:

Visit New York
Visit Paris
Visit London
Successfully horseback ride
Hang-glide
Successfully blog
Successfully vlog, at least once in my life
Meet some of my “internet heroes”.
Collage
Finish at least SOME collage and get a job as an animator for a company somewhere in the world
wind up working for Disney or Pixar
Sketch our animals at the zoo
Sketch out people in a natural habitat

*Gotta love the complete contradiction and utter disregard to mental disorders: A schizoid is, in common terms, a loner: they don't have many friends, seemingly have a lack of emotions, and tend to prefer solitary activity. . . . the more ya know! ;)

With love,
Nikola Strange.

What is innocence?

My sister and I were hanging out today. Whenever I'm with her, the car rides are always long and quiet. Of the two of my sisters, I think I'm closest to this one. She's the second to youngest (there are three of us), and she seems to care the most.

I tried to start a conversation to mentioning I actually enjoyed watching CSPAN, and that I'm a major nerd for it.

She told me she thought I watched it to fake being smart. I agreed, and joked about being a "highly educated stupid person".

It got quiet again, and she just repeated herself. "I just--I don't know!" I just agreed. "I had a job at your age, at 18 I was engaged--" I laughed and said I didn't like people. "I'm not saying you need to be engaged, but. . . .  I dunno." I sorta got where she was going with it. "You need to get a job. You need to go to school. You need to grow up, you know? You're still so innocent, and it's starting to annoy me." I'm 17. And she has a point. 

"You're going to be an adult in a year--"
Young adult, technically.
"No, you'll be a full adult under the law. You can drive, you can vote, you can do everything! Why don't you drive."

She went off over how I'm going to be able to do everything under the eyes of the law. How I'm not looking for a job, and how I don't do anything.

I kept thinking she was in learning center at my age, and how I'm taking a top of higher level classes, but in the end she still has a point. I don't do anything, really.

I mentioned FAFSA and how I needed it done for scholarships, which I guess is only partly true. But you also have to be living in the US for a lot of these, so. . . .
She said I was too dependent on others and don't take responsibility. And that I need to learn the world doesn't revolve around my room.

Today was my nephew's first day of school. My sister cried for about 30 minutes after leaving him, and got to the school about 10 or so minutes early. She waited at the gate for four, claiming we could never understand how close her and her baby were.

He has a slight speech problem, because he never interacted with other children. I genuinely hope he doesn't turn out to be like me.

With love
Nikola Strange.