Respect

A few days ago my sister gave me a black wristband with thick white letters that read RESPECT. At first I thought the gift was some shallow way of her hinting to my lack of respect but then realized that this band symbolized something bigger than just me and her (even if she didn't know it).

As I glanced at the band a second time I began to wonder if respect and obedience were synonymous or not.

Whenever my siblings or I misbehave my parents call us disobedient. But isn't obedience more of a "blind listening" type of thing? Isn't it done without thinking or without choice? Whenever I think of obedience I think of the good little trained puppy who sits when his owner commands him to and is rewarded with a pet on the head or, if he's lucky, a doggie biscuit.

I don't want to be the obedient little trained puppy. I want to have my own thoughts and not only do what's right because I want a treat or reward. I want to do the right thing because it falls under my system of beliefs; whether that means following a fundamental belief without trouble (like listening to my parents because I agree with them) or letting that fundamental belief supersede a surfacing belief that may seem of utmost importance at the moment (listening to my parents even though I completely disagree). The dilemma regarding my parents comes with a great deal of uncertainty and failure, especially since I often confuse my fundamental and surfacing beliefs. However, once I succeed I know I will elevate myself to the status of respectful daughter. And respect, the act of standing strong to my fundamental beliefs even if it disregards the ones on my surface, is what I strive to live by.

So thank you sister for the wristband. Those white-on-black letters opened my mind to the difference between obedience and respect: one is for a doggie while the other is for me.

Birthdays

For some reason people have the misconception that birthdays are supposed to be perfect. That your birthday is the one day a year where everything turns out just the way you want it (like a warped fairytale of some sort).

These people need a reality check because if anything, birthdays are far from perfect. It's all actually pretty ironic.

I find that everything goes wrong on my birthday. I always get the feeling that it is the worst day of the year and that it sucks being whatever age I just turned. Maybe I just think that because I have such high standards for "the perfect day"and ultimately its "perfection"fails. Meaning, if the exact events of that day happened any other day it would be fine but because my birthday is supposed to be perfect those events just ruin it.

Maybe it's my lack of appreciation or maybe I'm just overreacting  but I honestly think that people just want to fantasize and create a perfect day for themselves that never existed and never will exist. Sure the gifts are nice and the "happy birthday"comments are thoughtful (don't get me wrong, I love each and every one of them!), but that doesn't create perfection nor will it ever because perfection is just a fantasy for dreamers.

Being Ignored

Being ignored isn't as fun as people make it out to be; do not be fooled by their fake smiles.

Yes, I'll admit, I was ignored once or twice (or fifty times but who's counting?) and despite my complete annoyance and semi-hatred towards the ignorer (I am the ignoree) at the time, I still wanted him to speak to me. I still wanted him to look me in the eye and acknowledge my existence. 

Maybe being ignored would be more fun if I knew why I was being ignored or if I had a hundred cupcakes to keep me company while I waited for a nonexistent reply or if I was able to join an "Ignoree Anonymous" meet and pour my heart out to all the other ignored souls.

So ignorees, tell me, how do you get your fake smiles to look so real?

Letter to the Editor

I wrote a letter to the editor of the LA times and it was published in the paper on Fri, Feb 4. Of course this milestone in my life (its my first letter ever published) came with its own background story and a whole lot of excitement but I won't bore you with the details. I just want you to read the letter and of course the article it's in response to.


Re "Mubarak vows to exit on his terms," Feb. 2

The protests in Egypt are unsettling and frightening for more reasons than just those having to do with Egyptians. The issue not only affects the entire Arab world but Israel as well.

Israel is our only true ally in the Middle East. If Israel's peaceful relationship with Egypt is disturbed because of the possible collapse of President Hosni Mubarak's regime, Israel will be surrounded by enemies on all but one border and at severe risk of more Islamic terrorism. This can cause a major dent in our ally's strength and possibly affect us indirectly as well.

It is unnerving to know that the collapse of one country's government can stir up so much commotion for much of the world.

click here to see the article

Everyone loves yellow corvettes???

I never thought much of blogs until recently when my mom suggested I start one. She figured it wouldn't hurt trying to  boost my appearance for the college admissions officers, especially since I love writing. I know this sounds like another cliche "I never thought I'd start a blog" post and I want you to know that it isn't. This post has absolutely nothing to do with my surprise and wonder towards starting a blog and all to do with the title of my blog: Everyone Loves Yellow Corvettes.

Why would I choose that as a title, you ask? Because in my world they do.

I am a Corvette fanatic who hopes and dreams that instead of proposing with a diamond ring, my future fiancée will get down on one knee in front of a new, shiny, slick, yellow Corvette. Yes I know that is totally unrealistic and most probably never going to happen, so in turn I move down to plan B: beg my dad every chance I get to buy me a Corvette for my next birthday. Again, never going to happen. Therefore I move down my list, letter by letter, crossing out each unrealistic idea until I come across plan Z: invent my own yellow Corvette, or at least something with the same name- a.k.a my blog.