"Just Blame It On Me."

I've flown on airplanes before but NEVER have I had one like this. I had assumed it was going to be a normal flight until HE showed up: a shorter man in his upper 30's with brown hair, blue eyes hidden behind some glasses, a couple of "beauty spots" on his face that needed a good shave came and sat down next to me with a small smirk on his face. He put his bag underneath the seat in front of him, and sipped his Moxie Java coffee that smelled like French Vanilla and said "Hi!"... I said hello back and that was the beginning of my flight from Boise to Lewiston...


After the flight attendants went through all the rules and procedures and we took off, he began to tell me how he was going to leave soon because he's been up since 4 doing things for work and flying all day...so he's going to crash in the two empty seats at the back of the plane. "It's nothing personal, I'm just tired...and my brain is mush." I just nodded and said "Oh, no you're fine. I hope you get some sleep." not knowing what to say.

He never left to go to the back.

He continued to talk to me about small things like where we were going, what I was doing in Boise. He told me he was going to Seattle; it's where he lives. How he grew up in Minnesota and prefers the big city and how Boise is so small! What I was doing in Boise, where I was going to school...etc. I just answered his questions as politely as I could, figuring it would be a long flight if I didn't...

***

I wish I could remember all that he said, because this guy was the funniest man I've ever met!! Being tired was seriously a huge plus for him and me because he made that flight the best one I've ever had. Although his coffee breath was overwhelming, it was extremely pleasant to talk to him.

He asked me, since I told him I was going to see family, what my family was like. I told him "I'm the youngest of 10." (Including Susan's children)

"Oh, haha, are you Catholic or Mormon?"

"Haha, yes I'm LDS..."

"Oh, right on! Yeah, I came from a Catholic background so I know how that goes...except my family was the outcast, kind of like the lepers of the community, because we only had 3 kids.

***

His two 'one liners' were "oh, right on!" and "Just blame it on me". For example, when he asked me what I did I told him I wrote, "Oh, right on! Are you any good?"

"I wouldn't say so bu--"

"No, you supposed to say 'yes'; confidence is key."

"Oh, sorry..."

"Oh, don't be...blame it on me; everyone else does. It's easier that way."

***

He continued on telling me that he collects things for his work, and told me he was looking for some tractor parts, asking me if there's any in Lewiston or where I'm going. I said "Maybe not so much; even though they're small they're still cities. Possibly out in the country."

"Oh yeah?? Right on! So like they have these graveyards of deceased tractor parts with gravestones saying "RIP John Deere"?? Because that would seriously be perfect for me." I just laughed and we discussed it for a while longer.

***

He told me about his family in Seattle, his two sons and his wife, Whitney. The older boy of 10 was named Raphael...which I thought was so amazing I couldn't remember the other's name, but he's 5. He asked me about my family; I tried to explain to him my living arrangements and how it came to be that way...it took about three times for him to grasp the concept....I also told him about the age range of the family and how they were pretty quick at first and I was the unexpected one.

"How big's the gap between you and the next?"

"Well he's 21 now and I'm 16."

"Oh wow! Ten years! That's a while!" I just kind of stared at him with the 'Seriously?' look...he stared back and then smacked his forehead and laughed, apologizing again that he was tired. "Okay, let me figure this one out...-puts hand up to his forehead to think and is quiet for a while- Ooouuuuch...I'm sorry I can't think. It's like I tried to flex my brain but it collapsed instead; it really hurt actually!"

"Haha, well don't hurt yourself, it's not that important."

He then continued to tell me he really was smart; he was the valedictorian at his high school, went to college at 16 (he skipped two grades) and majored in music (he plays piano because he cannot sing). He prefers math but he's a pretty good writer "I mean, I wrote the graduation speech so...I have to have some talent, right?" I told him I was interested in English, and he said his English teacher in College was the devil, whose purpose on this life was to make everyone feel inferior...and he claimed that class was his first B...ever. He also told me to never forget that writing all depends on perspective; with out it, it basically sucks.

"So years from now after you write your award-winning, life altering book that brings world peace, eliminates world hunger, even makes cats and dogs want to live together, you say "It was the man on the airplane...he talked perspective.""

"Haha, yes, the crazy guy who slept in the back of the plane....he changed my life; I suppose I can never forget." We both just laughed.

***

I went on to tell him I also was into music, that I was in choir, and used to play the French Horn. We discussed the amazingness of a French Horn (basically that they're the best instrument known to man...which they are) and also that we both wanted to play string instruments: he wanted cello, I wanted violin.

I told him "I played one note on the violin, and it sounded like a dying cat..."

"Then I think you should stay clear from them completely...but I've never really liked cats anyways, so that's okay." He went into how he loves all animals...expect cats and really just wants to step on their heads. All his piano teachers had like 15 of them, and they were always mean and they smelled worse than horses. "So if you ever want to play the violin for me, it would be music to my ears...I would just sit there and say 'Ah...dying cats...the most beautiful sound in the world.'"

***

"Now, where are we going again?" I spent the next while again trying to explain Lewiston and where it's at.

"It's about 40 miles from Moscow, near Clarkston...small way from Lapwai..." He just stared at me with the best blank expression ever known to man.

"Kay, that's all a foreign language to me...even though I know you're speaking English; they're just words. Well, actually, there more like syllables but they aren't forming anything coherent..."

"Well that's the best I can do, sorry."

"Oh, it's okay, you can just blame it on me."

***

We talked more about home, why I lived with the Sippy's; he also moved out once as he went off to college. We talked about how sometimes you just need to get away, because the longer you stay the worse things become and the less you can stand it. He asked me again why I was going up to Moscow, I told him to see family and that my grandmother wasn't doing well. We talked about that...and his grandmother went through something really similar.

***

They then announced we were landing down in Lewiston soon, so I thought I'd start to say "my goodbyes".

"Thank you so much for talking with me! It was extremely plesant and entertaining."

"Haha, well thank you. Yeah, it was pretty entertaining huh?? But I think the funniest thing about this whole flight was that you stole my seat."

"You're kidding...did I really?!?" He just laughed and teased me by walking me through which seats were what...I felt so bad...and I apologized about 5+ times.

"It's okay, just blame it on me..."

"I do blame it on you for not saying anything!! Now you'll know me as the jerk who stole your seat and wouldn't let you sleep!"

"And I'm the guy who talked about nothing for an hour."

***

We said our goodbyes and he wished me well with what I was doing...including grandmother. I told him he better move over before another no good ten year old--I mean teenager stole his seat. I got off the plane, and he continued on is way to Seattle.

I suppose I wrote about this because I feel obligated to remember him now because not only did I tell him that I'd never forget him, I told him I'd write about him in one of my "books". So there's the story of the insanely tired coffee man who sat next to me on an airplane and told me about perspective...and if you didn't like it, you can just blame it on me...;]

Tribute To My Father: Happy Daddy's Day

I was taking AP Language Composition this last year, and we had to write three essays that we could potentially send to colleges. We had to write about a significant event, person etc...and the first one I wrote mine on was my father. My wonderful father as done so much for me; I appreciate everything he's done...and I love him so very much. This is dedicated to my father: I love you Poppa.

***

Who I am: a sister, a friend, a lover, a music appreciator, a writer…in the most accurate definition, I am myself. Broadly defined I am a young woman of society just trying to get through life. Religiously defined: I am a daughter of God who loves me. With all that said, I am that which surpasses all: I am my father’s daughter; without my father, I could not be me.

My parents divorced when I was too young to remember my mother at all, and my father took on the challenge of raising six children alone. He constantly worked, and wasn’t always around, but he was there enough. At the time I didn’t understand what he was doing, but as I reminisce of my childhood I see he taught me the importance of hard work, whether success followed or not. He always told me that family was most important and proved it through his diligence to meet our needs. With a lack of feminism, he taught me to be strong, tough, and to “stop crying”. He also walked me through problem solving and improving my situations. Because of this, I started doing my own laundry and cooking simply at the ripe age of five; I became a rather independent and efficient Preschooler.

In later childhood, he focused me on responsibility around the house and accountability for my choices. He raised me to be devoted to my religion, and I love it above all still today. Since my father was usually absent, my siblings did some disciplining, but I did a lot of it myself, including washing my mouth out after uttering my first swear word. Overall, he taught me to be an upright young woman and to be accountable for my actions.

As a teen, he gave me guidance and support through my hardest trials. In my depression and anorexia years, he did everything in his power to heal me. Because of him and the lessons he taught me before, I overcame a life-threatening situation; all because of that unconditional love he has for me. He also loved me enough to let me go. Due to my father’s depression of being laid off and a step mother with Borderline Personality Disorder, I was emotionally abused and my father decided to let me live with another family so that my needs could be met and to have a proper mother. He sacrificed losing me in order to allow me to grow and develop into the woman we both know I have potential for.

My father changed me for good; because of him I am myself, and that’s something pretty significant. Who I am: dedicated, respectful, determined, virtuous and gentle. Intellectually defined: I’m the typical woman, occasionally caught up in emotion but still have a sturdy head on my shoulders. Academically speaking, I am a potential future graduate of your school.

"What's a Gym?? Oh...a GYM!!"

I truly am spoiled here at the Sippy's house. Not only is there amazing food and that Mrs. Sippy bakes wedding cakes for a living, but they have a theater room upstairs which includes a mini fridge full of soda, and a shelf stocked up with all sorts of candy like Swedish Fish, Laffy Taffy, assorted candy bars and licorice. It has overwhelmingly comfortable furniture and dim lights perfect for taking naps, AND it's quiet with a nice chess/checkers table to do homework, so I spend a lot of time up there with all the parties and naps I take. I've also discovered that the more time I spend up there, mysteriously the more candy is missing, and what is more inexplicable is that I've gained about five pounds since I've moved in!! One would assume those are all connected, but I'd deny...but also admit I'm a liar.

No matter where the "pudge" has come from...I want it to go away; it's most distasteful (although it wasn't to gain it. ;)). Now I've been around the block a time or two before, and I don't want to go down some certain alleys and short cuts again, so I'm trying to go down a different route: EXERCISE. The problem is, I've never been the athletic type; I'm a watcher/appreciator rather than a doer/player..."so now what's the procedure?"

You could say that I'm as "edumacated" as Homer Simpson, for I've never stepped into a "gym" (Pronounced like 'guy' with an 'm' at the end) and don't know anything about them, except you exercise there...and that's what I'm looking for. :D

Momma Sippy is far more dedicated to her work outs by going five days a week with her membership...and so I thought I could go with her so I'm not totally out of place. Well, I'd need a membership, and it just so happens that her son, my best friend, Adam just left on his mission to the Marshall Islands in April and he didn't cancel his, and is still being charged for his account every month, and they can have someone replace him or pay a fee of $75 and show them his papers that he is really gone. Momma Sippy took me in there and we worked it out that I'd have membership from Adam's old account for the summer, and then when school starts, she'd cancel it. Don't you just love win-win situations? (Mrs. Sippy saves the day again...)

In all, I am overly spoiled here at the Sippy's with my very "cush-cush" life style of packing on the pounds and then taking them off just as easily. Poor me...I have to endure so much strive. *dramatic sigh* No, but really, I'm so very grateful for all that Momma Sippy does for me and that I've been given the opportunity to be a part of her family. I'll also be letting you all know how my "Biggest Loser" summer with Mrs. Sippy is going. Wish me the best of luck!

When Life Gives You Lemons...

My sister asked me to post this rant on the blog so she could read it...even though I already read it to her...*sigh* I posted this on Facebook...but I wanted to rewrite some parts so it's a tiny bit different, but has the same point.

So, I was on FB and I saw a little "like" group called "Unless life also gives you water and sugar, your lemonade's gonna suck", and being so opinionated, I had something to say about how untrue and ignorant this is.

First of all...since when is life a free ride that gives you everything you could possibly need?! Call me crazy, but I always thought you had to work, not just work but work hard, for what you wanted...for as long as I know it's always been that way. With all that said, we should already have the water and sugar in our lives, due to our choices, beliefs and what sort of efforts we put in; you reap what you sow.

Now, this is where my religion steps in and plays a major role in my thinking...for it is who I am. Any Christian who's read The Bible knows that Jesus Christ is not only our Savior and Redeemer but is also referred to as the "Living Water". ( St John 4 for example) If we want peace, everlasting happiness and eternal life, we must have the Living Christ in our lives...and if we do, we shall never thirst. He has those arms stretched out for us and he will draw us in "with healing in his wings" and will make us whole. So if we strive to be more like him, draw unto him, he will draw unto us and we will have water.

Now concerning the sugar..."sugar, spice and everything nice" shouldn't just apply to girls, it should be a part of everyone on this planet. Is it? Not in the slightest...but honestly!! Who likes bitter people?! Who enjoys being around people who are distasteful, hurtful, selfish, crude, deceiving, rude and overall unpleasant? People are drawn to others who are considerate, kind, gentle and loving...when's the last time you've heard someone compliment another for being snotty? Or stuck up? How about sweet? We should already be producing our own sugar for in spite of what the world around us says, people have the potential to be "good"; it just depends on whether they act upon it or ignore it (but even if they ignore it, it doesn't negate the fact that they can be "good").

So already, we have two out of the three ingredients: Water and Sugar. And with these two amazing things combined...you have very sweet water...it may be semi delightful but something's definitely missing. That's where this life we've been given comes into play....and provides the lemons. We have this one life, and yes, it's tough...but it's fair. Even though it may chuck those lemons at you and get juice in your eyes...it as still given you the opportunity to produce a beverage far beyond plain sugar water; it's giving us the upper hand!!! So be grateful; open your eyes and when life give you lemons, you better make that lemonade...or else they will go to waste and all you'll have are lemons that's drip into your wounds instead of in your pitcher. Get off your lazy butt, quit your whining and moping, accept the "disguised gifts" life gives you on a regular basis and make the best of them...for you already have what it takes to make life great...but you only get lemonade if and ONLY if you put all the ingredients together. Don't settle for less and see things for what they are...but what they can be, which includes your situations, and ultimately yourself.

"Unless life also gives you water and sugar, your lemonade's gonna suck"...Unless you also put forth effort to make lemonade, your life is gonna suck.

Sister Knows Best...

For the past couple days my eldest sister has been trying to convince me to get into blogging. She says it's because she thinks I'd really like it...but I think it's more because she has recently deleted her Facebook account and wants to stay in touch; apparently phone calls are out of the question. I finally gave in and told her to help me make one...there was far too much frustration for one silly Blog.

I always thought that it was people like my dad who'd not understand technology...so I felt rather foolish when I didn't know what in the world was going on. Who knew such a simple thing could be so complex!! (In all reality, it should say, "Who knew a teenager could be so stupid?" but...the answer would be everyone...and my pride will not allow that.) But my beloved sister stepped in and walked me through it...and here we are.

This, obviously, is my blog. I still don't know exactly what to do with it...so I suppose I'll just see what happens. So far, since I am really interested in writing, I'll just post a lot of my "work". And also since I'm an overly opinionated young woman, I'll post some rants on here as well.

For my sister: "I hopeb your sabisfieb...I hopeb your sabisfieb!" :] It's the brain damage...what can I say?