Party Fouls

A broken screen, a busted door, beads in the pool and boys past curfew… My birthday party last night was a riot. However, it was calculated chaos as I was able to cross four items off the bucket list. In order of appearance, here’s what went down.

#5. Silly String Fight

“You assaulted your brother with silly string and you really have no pictures?! I say this calls for a do over!”

This was a comment left by a follower upon my last attempt to cross this list item off (you can read about it in the last paragraph here). My response: “Challenge accepted.”

Using that thing called insight for once, I informed my guests that their admittance would be one can of silly string. After swimming off some of the plethora of food we ate (including, but not limited to pizza, chips, pigs in a blanket, chicken wings, other hors d’oeuvres,  soda, sweet tea, and the crown jewel, a chocolate fountain complete with all the fixings), my friend Cole initiated the battle early by spraying me… in the face. Oh, it was on. We split up into two teams and then charged at each other, spraying anyone who passed by. Aerosol foam flew through the air as Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries seemingly played in the background. Although there was no way to declare a winner or loser, by the end we all looked like we had been rolling around in unicorn hair. Mission accomplished.

#39. Host a Bonfire

After our bout of silly string warfare, we cut the birthday cake and started up a bonfire. It was pretty standard, just friends sitting around a fire… except when your little brother decides to come outside and show off his dance moves. Then things get interesting.

#28. Play Spin the Bottle

Classy girls don’t kiss and tell… but a word of advice: If you’re going to be playing with your older brother, do what we did and set some ground rules first to avoid any awkward moments.

#24. Pull an All-Nighter

Once everyone had left by about one o’clock, my dad, brothers, and a friend, Jason, helped out with the clean-up process. Afterwards, Jason stayed for a little bit longer so we could catch up since he lives over an hour away, which in all honesty was the best part of the night. At the point that he left, my older brother and I were both wide awake, so we stayed up and talked to each other until five o’clock this morning as a part of some much-needed sibling bonding. I fought to stay awake as long as possible, but ended up crashing at about 5:30, which is about the time I would wake up on a normal school day. In my book, this item is about as good as crossed off.

All in all, the night was a success. I don’t think I’ll be having any more parties any time soon though, and that is just fine by me. I plan on living forever… so far, so good.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

#88. Do Something Nice for My Professor

Flashback five years. It’s the second day of the seventh grade. All of us preteens have half the attention span but twice the arrogance now that we’re no longer the runts of the school. I’ve already heard loads of summer gossip, but quite honestly, I’m just glad I have half a tan and some new clothes to show off. Still adjusting to the new block scheduling, I’m sitting in my second period class working on the day’s assignment, already feeling overwhelmed by this new concept they call pre-algebra. I want to turn around and ask my friend George a question, but the teacher has forbidden us to talk. This man is not exactly what I would consider approachable either. He’s a short, squat, middle-aged, and his most definitive feature is his hair… all of it. The hair on his head is thick and dark, but styled into a neat, military-style crew cut. Even sitting in the third row, I can tell that his nostrils could use a trim though. As a matter of fact, the hair doesn’t stop at his head. During his lecture, I was distracted by strands of the stuff poking out from between the buttons of his pit-stained polo shirt. His arms are coated with an innumerate amount of follicles, leading a trail all the way down to the afros on his knuckles. Little did I know that those hairs would become quite a familiar sight between the keys of my calculator (don’t even get me started on pi(e) day). Growing increasingly frustrated, I decide to muster up the courage to ask my question anyway. With my textbook in the crook of my arm, I approach his desk in the back of the classroom. Meekly, I address the teacher to inform him that I would like some help because I didn’t quite understand part of the lesson. The pen in his hand halts mid-stroke, and slowly he raises his head. Upon closer inspection, I can see more of those thick, dark hairs sticking out of his ears. He looks over his coke-bottle glasses to stare me straight in the eye as he says, “Were you paying attention during the lesson?” “Yes, I just didn’t quite understand…” “If you were paying attention, you would understand it. Now go back to your desk and actually try to figure it out.” Alright, monologue over. This is the story how my math teacher made me cry on the second day of seventh grade. Not only was I humiliated and horrified for the rest of the year (there would be one other incident in which I would break down into tears because of him), but this single event in my life would define the way I viewed math for the next four years.

Traumatized, I developed an intense hatred for mathematics. Confusing as it may sound, I’m actually really good at math and would consider it to be one of my better subjects. Nevertheless, the discipline of facts and figures, equations and inequalities, and logarithms and laws was something that I loathed with every fiber of my being… that is, until I met Professor Morris. As I mentioned in my last post, I am a dual-enrolled high school student, meaning I take college classes in order to satisfy my high school graduation requirements. When I found out that I would be taking a college-level math course, I was so petrified that I almost dropped the class before even showing up for the first day. Well, that first day changed my life. After meeting Professor Morris for the first time, I could tell how understanding and compassionate she was as an educator. Every single step of every single problem that came out of her mouth suddenly made sense, whereas it hadn’t before. It was in her class I that I received my first 100% on a math test in years… and it would be followed by 6 more over the course of three semesters. After finishing up my college algebra class with her, I went on to take statistics in the spring and precalc/trig in the summer with her as well.

Today was my last day of class with her, as I will be moving on to take calculus in the fall, so I wanted to give a token of my appreciation. In order to demonstrate how much of an impact she’s made, I decided to make a collage of all the test and quiz scores that she managed to help me achieve over the past year; after all, none of it would have been possible without her. Plus, in order to prove that I learned in her class, I gave her π… for those of you who aren’t familiar with the unit circle, half of a pie. Call me a suck up, but Professor Morris has allowed me to feel confident about math again, and this was my way of trying to express my gratitude.

Here’s to all of those that influence our lives subtly by day and monumentally in hind sight.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

#46. Create an Original Recipe

Thank goodness for Friends… no, not those people I spend my free time with. You know, the ones who show up on here occasionally? The people who exalt me when I’m up and support me when I’m down? No, I’m talking about my fictional Friends… Ross, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey, Chandler, and Monica. Thanks to TBS for airing 4 reruns of the sitcom every day, therefore upgrading my couch potato status to that worthy of Idaho’s attention. As I was watching the episode in which Monica uses her skills as a chef to attempt deciphering Phoebe’s deceased grandmother’s chocolate chip cookie recipe, I was inspired to hit the ground running with this idea I’ve had mulling around in my head for quite a while. Without further ado, I present my 100% original recipe…

Gone With The Summer’s Sweet Watermelon Salsa

• 1/2 cup diced watermelon*
• 1 teaspoon lime juice
• 2 teaspoons grenadine
• 1/2 teaspoon chopped cilantro

*Note: Remove seeds from watermelon before dicing.

Combine ingredients in a small bowl. Chill for 20-30 minutes. Enjoy! (1 serving)

 

That’s it! However, what this recipe lacks in complexity, it makes up for in versatility. My first dipping mechanism of choice was dried banana chips. Other ways I would serve this sweet twist on classic salsa would be with cinnamon-sugar pita chips or on top of yogurt or ice cream. This recipe could also be easily altered. For example, I considered adding crushed pineapple or mango for added fruitiness. Either way, I encourage all of you to give this recipe a try, and then let me know your results!

My verdict? Well, it’s a mistrial on account of bias, because I think it’s absolutely perfect. Nothing tastes more like summer than watermelon, and the sweetness of the grenadine and freshness of the lime and cilantro only enhance its familiar “Mmmm…” factor. Cole tells me I should be a chef… but I’ll settle for the grandma with all the famous recipes.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

P.S. Congratulations to Amanda Fitzgerald, the winner of the GirlProps.com sunglasses giveaway! Thanks again to all who entered!

#108. Get a Job

Today I received a fateful call that will change my life forever: I am now employed as a server at a local burger joint. This place is no McDonald’s either… consider it a glorified Steak ‘N Shake. The whole process was about as much as I expected… dress up, drop off application, wait anxiously for a call back, receive a call for an interview, do a little dance, dress up again (but never in the same outfit), show up 20 minutes early for the interview, smile through the answers you nail, smile even harder through the ones you don’t, wait even more anxiously for the final call, get the job, and then do a really big dance. I was not expecting to receive such good news today, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect (my training starts the weekend after my last day of summer classes!). I must admit, however, this list item gives me mixed feelings. In no time I’ll be rolling in the dough, yet I’ll be spending Friday nights rolling in the grease. I’m going to experience a new taste of independence, all while choking down a new set of rules. Although this accomplishment by no means marks the end of my childhood, it is a definite step towards being a “grown-up.” My only hope is that this is an experience that I can have fun with. Cheers to the future.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

P.S. UPDATE: Although I contacted the winner of the GirlProps.com sunglasses giveaway, I did not receive a response within 72 hours. This means that I have picked another winner, who will be contacted first thing tomorrow via e-mail. Check your inbox tomorrow morning and good luck! Thanks again to all who entered!

#52. Hold an Alfred Hitchcock Movie Marathon

Those who know me understand my fascination with Old Hollywood films which replaces my disdain for modern cinema. Alfred Hitchcock movies definitely fall into the former category, being that this man set the precedent for horror films as we know them today. I knew I had committed a crime of epic proportions by never seeing any of his masterpieces, so I slapped a number before it and called it a bucket list item. This was an experience I wanted to share, so it became an event that was classified into four Fs:

Friends

Of all the wonderful people I’ve met in Florida, I’ve made my closest friends through school. The beauty of it is, almost everyone at our school gets along due to our small size and unique circumstances. Unfortunately, because we come from all over, it makes seeing each other outside of academics a real challenge. Tonight was definitely a treat – some people drove upwards of an hour just to make it to my house, which just goes to show that I have some incredible friends. Without further ado, allow me to introduce you to some of the crazy, beautiful people in my life.

Left to right: David, Shannon, Cole, Holly, and Hailey

Left to Right: Abby, Katherine, and Connor

Oh, and Brian was there too (:

Not pictured: Bruce – we missed you after you left!

It really was awesome to see them all again!

Food

It wouldn’t be a movie marathon without popcorn, right? …and Capri Sun, cake pops (complements of the baker extraordinaire, Abby), and cookies… Perry the Platypus cookies, that is.

*Note to self: Y.O.L.O. is a poor excuse to consume this much junk food, but I digress.

Films

Obviously, films are the most important part of a movie marathon. After a little bit of research, I found a used 5-disc collection of Alfred Hitchcock movies online for around $25 (surprisingly, I couldn’t even tell they were used). We started off the night with “Vertigo,” and more time was spent laughing than anything else. Really the only horrifying thing about it was how cheesy it was. From the special effects to the “suicide” scene to the nun coming out of the shadows, we were dying of laughter. Next we watched a true classic, “Psycho.” Although the build-up was a bit sporadic, the climax was completely worth it. Words cannot describe how much I loved seeing Norman Bates jump out… well, I won’t give away any spoilers. You absolutely have to see it for yourself! Our third choice was “Rear Window,” which really only served as background noise while we built a…

Fort

When you get 11 teenagers together to watch movies on a Friday night, it’s the inevitable… ’nuff said.

Overall, last night was a great night filled with the things I love the most. It really was a “killer” time, pun definitely intended. Plus, we’ve already decided what we’re doing next: Hipster Movie Marathon. Bring it.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

P.S. Sorry for the horrible picture phone quality!

#94. See an R-rated Movie at the Theater Before I Turn 17

On this one, I think I’m going to award myself an A for effort… and being a wuss. I’ve learned a lot over the past 5 hours or so. For example, did you know that you can be banned from a movie theater for sneaking into an R-rated movie? That’s right, if caught, they can basically blacklist you and even go as far as to take your picture for future reference. Luckily, I did not learn this through personal experience of my own. However, it was enough to scare me from following through with the plan that went a something like this: My friend, Alec, was going to meet me at the theater at 7:00 so we could buy tickets to Avengers starting at 7:20. From there, we were going to casually divert our path to the 7:50 showing of Prometheus. Our nonchalant stroll was quickly retracted once we discovered that the 5:10 showing still hadn’t let out. To wait it out, we decided to watch the previews before the movie we actually had tickets for. It was during this time that Alec recounted his failed attempt that mirrors what I described above, therefore sending me into anxiety mode. Then I realized how ridiculous it would be to spend $10 on a ticket only to be thrown out of a movie I had no desire to see in the first place, aside from the fact that it was rated R. Consequently, we stayed and watched the Avengers. Needless to say, as a person who rarely ever watches movies or follows comic books, it made no sense to me. The first half of the movie was spent in question-answer format, where I tried to figure out who was who and what was what, a very cumbersome task for my dear friend Alec; the second half of the movie was spent watching things blow up and aliens/super-geniuses/demigods/experiments-gone-wrong destroy things by every means imaginable. Overall, these are the three main things I got out of the film:

1. Transformers + Star Wars + Men In Black = Avengers
2. Captain America is perfect in every sense of the word
3. There are are numerous ways to destroy a city, such as letting your pet robot fish loose to float through the streets

In sum, I’m glad I saw Avengers instead of Prometheus, because the risk wouldn’t have been worth the fall. Hmm… doing the responsible thing. Does this mean I’m growing up?

Love & Summer,

Sarah

#15. Buy an Outfit at a Thrift Store

Alright, I have a confession to make… I haven’t crossed off number fifteen. No, dear followers, I have merely started to cross it off. However, I would still consider today’s events to be worthy of blogging, so allow me to elaborate further. This afternoon my mother and I trekked out to our local Salvation Army to spend an afternoon sifting through racks of discarded clothing. As if by fate, I was immediately drawn to the tank tops, only to pick up this beauty almost instantaneously:

I snatched up the hanger without hesitation, just knowing I had to take it home, and then it hit me… I’m going to be a senior. Next, it hit me in a way that it never had before… I am a senior!! For once, I wasn’t dreading the prospect of facing my final year living the only way of life I’ve ever known. It was an epiphany that cleared away some of the anxiety that had been clouding my outlook on the approaching school year. Just as I was gushing to my mom, savoring this newfound perspective, I turned it around to read the back:

Yep, it’s definitely fate. Not only does it have my name on it (well, close enough anyway), but it has a direct connection to my dad; in high school, his football nickname was “Lil’ Train.” He even still has one of his old practice jerseys with the moniker emblazoned on the back with yellow iron-on letters. The coincidence is yet another example of how strangely the details of my life have been intertwined this summer.

In addition to this most sacred of all tank tops, I picked up two more simple white tanks and an adorable light pink sweater that reminds me of something Jackie O herself would have worn. Then again, she didn’t live in the world’s largest sauna they call Florida. Although I tried on at least half a dozen pairs of pants and skirts, nothing came even close to fitting, which leads me to render this list item incomplete. After all, it does specify an “outfit,” so until I can find some bottoms and accessories to match, consider it a work in progress. Until then…

Love & Summer,

Sarah

#47. Make Sun Tea

I have a theory. There are certain memories that we will always equate with summer. However, what makes these memories so special is not just the thoughts, but the feelings. The effortless satisfaction, the relaxed momentum, the lyrical warmth. My theory attributes these recollections to the vivid sensory experience involved in creating a summer. Pick any one of the five senses, and I’m sure you can pinpoint out a memory connected with summer for each of them. The feel slippery feel of being submerged in a chlorine oasis as your toes dance to grip bottom. The smell of charred explosives resulting in an array of fireworks. The taste of of a juicy, crisp, cool watermelon slice that drips down your chin with each seed-filled bite. The hum of midday as lawns are mowed and children chatter in the suburban streets. The colors of a waning sunset that no HD television will ever rival. My point is, list items like this are what serve to supplement the memories that make up an unforgettable summer.

My mom used to make sun tea when I was little, and moving down South made me want to rekindle that abandoned ritual. All it took was a jar filled with water, eight tea bags, four hours in the sun, and… presto! I’m not sure why, but the notion that actual rays of sunlight infuse this tea make it so much more enjoyable. In fact, I find that the flavor is so sweet and smooth, it doesn’t even require sugar. It must be because this is what summer tastes like.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

#14. Participate in a Charity Event

I debated over whether or not I should cross this item off the list because of a technicality: the word “participate.” Allow me to explain. Last night I mentioned volunteering for an event dubbed “Senior Prom.” It was basically a dance for the residents of a local nursing home that was put together by the group I volunteer with through school. At first I didn’t think I was going to be able to make it, but at the last minute, an opportunity to go presented itself. By the time I arrived, everything was in full swing. The decorations had been put up (Hollywood glamour), the residents were dressed in their best evening wear, the king and queen had been announced (so precious!), the portraits had been taken, and the dinner was just being served. At that point, all I was really able to do was help clean up after the jubilation and assemble their picture frame mementos. In other words, my level of “participation” was minimal at best. However, what I witnessed in between really moved me, and left me with an altered frame of reference. To begin with, all but three or four of the residents were wheelchair-bound, yet enthralled to form a circle around the dance floor, tap their feet, and throw their hands up in the air when instructed to do so by Taio Cruz. Of those who were fortunate enough to be able to stand on their own, one really stood out. Let me tell you, this man could move his hips better than I can, and he loved nothing more than to shake what his mama gave him. On top of his incredible dance moves, he knew the lyrics to nearly every song, from “Burnin’ Love” to “Teach Me How To Dougie” (unfortunately, he did not know how to dougie, but I was still impressed nonetheless). Can you picture this? If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d find it hard to believe too. The point is, these people were inspirational. They showed me that youth is valuable, but ultimately nothing more than a mindset. Moreover, they proved the cliche that age is but a number when all that matters at the end of the day is whether or not you were able to smile at the world. In this way, these people helped me much more than I was able to help them… and that’s worth something.

Love & Summer,

Sarah

#51. Tie-Dye

It’s that time of year again… t-shirt time! Wait, that’s not right… who let Pauly D in? Okay, I’m done being corny for the day. It’s tie-dye time!

Last year I described the act as an “essential part of summer,” a statement which I still agree with. Perhaps this belief stems from my very first tie-dying experience in the second grade. Every student in our school was given a t-shirt to dye in their designated class color to wear at the end-of-the-year track and field day. Although my second grade self was horrified that our color was orange and jealous that my third grade brother’s color was red, I was still giddy at the prospect of being allowed to design my very own shirt. Of course, I considered myself the Jackson Pollock/Coco Chanel hybrid of my time,  even if my sunburst pattern was only slightly varied from everyone else’s. I still have that shirt to this day, and looking at it always reminds me of the whimsical fervor that set the tone for the last days of school. Since then I have tie-dyed several times… I dyed a shirt for my very first cheerleading tryouts; I dyed Easter shirts instead of Easter eggs one year; I even dyed a set of sheets. I don’t think anything will compare to that first shirt though. Nevertheless, I proceeded in dying a total of four tank tops, a medium which I had yet to try. You can see how all of them turned out it the .gif I made!

And now, I would like to share with you my latest brush with teenager-dom. Tonight as I was driving home from volunteering at an event, the song “3 A.M.” by Matchbox 20 came on… twice. I found this to be rather convenient, because the first time served as a refresher to my memory, which allowed me to positively belt the lyrics the second time. I don’t deviate from the bucket list very often in my blog posts, but this experience really resounded with me. Maybe it’s because it was my first time driving over a mile away completely by myself, or maybe it’s because it really was raining. It’s little moments like these that I know I’ll want to look back on and smile… so here’s to the memories of the future that we’re making now.

Love & Summer,

Sarah