Bitterness

I didn't really have any friend drama all year... until last week.
I felt betrayed by one of my best friends.

She was having a mini romance with one of my old enemies.

And that was not okay with me.

I mean, best friends are supposed to dislike the same people, but by the way she talked about him constantly, I could tell her feelings were the contrary.

Deep down, I knew it was stupid to be mad. 

I knew that there was nothing I could do about it, or nothing I could say that wouldn't come off as totally selfish. And part of it was for a selfish reason. I didn't want her to like someone I didn't like, and I didn't want her to have a successful friendship with someone I struggled and failed to have one with. But the other part of me was concerned for her. He is a shady character, and I was worried about what might become of her little flirtationship. He had hurt people before, so why wouldn't he hurt her?

Despite all of these feelings, I said nothing. I was frustrated by how hard it was just to merely tell her how I was feeling. It's irritating that just because of dumb past experiences that I have moved on from and almost forgotten, I still carry the burden of mistrust.

All day Friday and Saturday, she and I hardly spoke a word. But Saturday night at a party, we had a nice heart-to-heart. Turns out, she didn't even know the story of my ugly past with her new friend. I apologized for my behavior and told her she can be friends with whomever she wants. 

It feels so much better to resolve things, rather than let the bitterness boil inside you.

Thriving

I  T H R I V E  off of teacher compliments.
I had a great day today.

My drawing teacher told me she wanted me in advanced art and that I was doing a really good job on my perspective drawing. (This time I used a stool instead of the floor so my legs wouldn't fall asleep.) So I was already in a good mood when I walked down to choir.
When I arrived, I noticed the lists for next year's choirs were posted by the door. I tried out for A Capella, and I made it (as an alto, which is my favorite). I thought back to the day of my audition, when Durtschi stopped me in the hall to tell me I sang beautifully. I was feeling extremely pleased and pretty on top of the world in my cobalt blue skinny jeans and delighted smile.
As I walked in the room, I heard Mr. Durtschi exclaim, "Tess!" and he walked toward where I stood.
"You weren't at callbacks!" he lamented as he wiped an invisible tear.
I was surprised, as I didn't know callbacks even happened. "I didn't know of this," I said with a bashful smile.
"I had you on my list for Chamber callbacks," he explained. He seemed bummed that I didn't show up.
I bet my heart skipped three beats.
You see, A Capella is the big advanced choir at our school. Chamber Choir is the smaller, super top dawg choir. I merely signed up to audition for A Capella, but apparently he wanted me in Chamber, despite what I wrote on my audition paper.
I said, "Well, I still have senior year after next year!" I wasn't upset that I wasn't in Chamber for junior year because of my ignorance regarding callbacks; after all, I wanted to be in A Capella anyway. But I have never been more honored. I can still hardly believe it.
"You better stick with me!" Durtschi told me, but he didn't need to. I know I will always take choir.

This Place

There's a place nearby that is forever changing. People walk by it every day. They assume they're seeing the same place, and  they don't stop to think about how different it is. The grass may look the same as it has every year, but it's not the same grass. The grass that was there two months ago, let alone two years ago, has already been cut and replaced by newer blades. The air there has swept in, circulated, and been blown away to be replaced by fresh gusts coming down from the mountains. Just because a field is in the same location every time you walk by it doesn't mean the field itself is the same as it last was.
Everything about it has changed.
This place is me.

My Most Embarassing Moment

Today, I experienced my most embarrassing moment in high school thus far.

I was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the hall during A1 Drawing. We were drawing the hallway, so I had been sitting cross-legged for about 45 minutes. My legs were asleep and starting to hurt. Not the tingly kind of hurt, but the there's-absolutely-no-blood-circulating-through-my-legs kind of hurt. Suddenly, the bell rang to go to A2. Crap, I thought, I have to stand up now. I gathered my things and shifted my body slightly. My legs were definitely asleep.
People were now out of classrooms and filtering into the hall. I quickly stood up, but it felt strange. Usually when my foot is asleep, it is numb but I still kind of have control of it and a sense of its dimensions, and that's how my right leg felt. However, it felt like my left leg was GONE... like I didn't even have a left leg. I looked down at my feet. My left foot was twisted the wrong direction. I was pretty freaked out, and I tried to straighten my foot, but it was as if my brain could no longer control my leg at all. My crooked foot would not move. I remembered I didn't have much time to get across the school to my next class, so I stepped forward. Kind of. The instant I lifted my right foot, my useless left leg gave way and I collapsed on the ground.
People were swarming the hall intersection where I lay on the ground. It felt like the scene in The Lion King when Mufasa is trampled by wildebeests.

People stepped all around me. I couldn't just wait there on the ground; I had to get to my class. I started  c r a w l i n g  across the floor, holding all of my stuff on one arm and dragging my limp leg behind me. When I finally made it through the busy hall intersection and into the art hall, I took hold of the wall and stood up. My left leg was literally flopping around every which way, so I was limping on my completely numb right leg, holding a bunch of art supplies, and sliding my left shoulder awkwardly against the wall as I walked. My classmates all passed me and gave me funny looks without saying a word.
I eventually made it into the Drawing room, retrieved my backpack, and walked trudged down to my A2 once my legs were again functional.

I'm already laughing about the experience now, but right after it happened, I was pretty traumatized.

Without a Purpose

My brother Steven came over a few days ago.
I was hanging out with Ally at my house. Mom and Dad were out shopping when he walked in the door and announced his presence with "Hello!"
The three of us sat at the kitchen table and ate crackers while we talked about his new house. It was all small talk about Steve's life (he likes to talk about himself) until he went to the bathroom and Ally and I relocated onto the couch.
A few minutes later, we were all talking again in the family room. But for some reason, this time, we started talking about religion.
I am LDS. Steven, on the contrary, is atheist.
He told me all about silly studies and statistics, trying to prove that we don't have divine spirits. I nodded at what he had to say, but I found it all a little sad. He talked about how he doesn't need the church in his life. I thought, I do. What I said was, "If I didn't have the knowledge of the gospel in my life, and the sense of purpose that comes with it, I would be dead because I would have committed suicide by now." And that is 100% true. If I didn't know that I am a spirit with divine worth that will go on to live forever after this life, I would have given up already. What would be the point in living on this earth without a purpose?
He didn't seem very shaken by my statement, but I was, and I started to cry. Even an hour after the conversation, silent tears still puddled under my eyes. Why live without a purpose? I'm so grateful I have one.

I'm also extremely grateful for the opportunity I have to have the gospel in my life. It really has kept me alive. And even though Steve thinks, as he told me, that he's just going to rot in the ground after he dies, I think he'll be surprised when he wakes up again.

It Comes Naturally

Sometimes I can be one to stress out about my future.
Well actually, I am ALWAYS one to stress out about my future.
Ever since I entered high school, everyone tells me I need to decide what I want to do with my life. But the older I get, the thought of growing up becomes extremely intimidating.  First of all, I don't really know what to study in college, like what I would be best at. And secondly, I wonder a lot about my future family.
I've always wanted to have a family. I can't even imagine a future life without one. But even that seems a little daunting at times. Babysitting has always been a little awkward for me, and sometimes I wonder what I would be like as a mother. I saw a glimpse of that this weekend.

On Thursday night last week, my little brother (well, not LITTLE, he's 13) got the stomach flu. It struck him in the evening, and in a short time he felt exhausted and quickly fell asleep on the couch. When he awoke, he felt even worse. He sat at the kitchen table where Mom was making menus. He told her he was sick as I walked through the kitchen to get a drink of water before going to bed.
I looked over at him; he looked dreadful. He was pale, tired, and his head was so heavy he had to hold it up with his hand. And despite my normal feelings of irritation towards him, something stirred inside me when I saw him like that. It was kind of a form of sympathy, but taken to the next level. I walked over to where he sat stooped over and scratched his back. I then retrieved a barf bucket and a can of ginger ale from the basement. I took him and his things upstairs, arranged his room, and put him to bed myself.
As I walked down the stairs from his bedroom, I realized that I don't have to stress out about being a good mom, because it really does come naturally to take care of someone you love.

Les Miserables

It's a obsession, really. As of today I have seen it 10 times.
It's an amazing movie (and an amazing stage production), a great story, and amazing music. I really am obsessed with it. I sing the songs constantly and it just brings me such joy... even though it's a pretty depressing story.

I love Les Miserables. A lot.

I just need one of my friends to love it with me.

Feeling Small in a Big World

Growing up, I always felt big. TOO big.
First off, I hit my growth spurt early. Secondly, I became worried about matters concerning my weight at an early age, earlier than most little girls. At the time, though, it didn't seem like something that was mine or anyone's fault, it was just the way I was. I was big. And I didn't like it.
As I grew up a bit and entered my pre-teen years, I watched my mom try diet after diet and realized that maybe being big wasn't completely unavoidable as part of my identity as I thought it was all through my childhood.
I've struggled with weight loss ever since, and the only times I have ever succeeded was when I ate practically nothing... and obviously that method was hard to uphold.
So my size, along with other things, made my life a struggle for many years.

Well I've learned a lot in the past couple years, and I've realized I'm not that big at all. I'm in the the tiny 2% of the world that is LDS. I'm a girl, and a youth; that leaves us .5%. I also have green eyes. .0001%. With every little thing, the percentage gets smaller, all the way down to me. Precisely .00000000014132278% of the world's population. And suddenly, I feel extremely small.

And that's why it's so amazing what a single person can do.
Just a miniscule .00000000014132278% of the world
can change the world.

You may feel big, or your may feel small, but you are important.

So I'd like to end this post with my favorite scripture:
"Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things." Alma 26:12

New Blog

When I was thirteen I started a blog called Daily Drama, and I have loved blogging ever since.
But now that I'm sixteen, my old blog and old posts seem a little naive and ridiculous.

I have high hopes for this new blog.

Daily Drama can be found at http://tessahatchett.blogspot.com.