Growing Up is Hard to Do

When I grow up, I want to be a writer. To be able to spill words across a blank page, and to have people who would kill to read it? My oh my. That would be the life. I could sell my thoughts a dime a dozen. Reach one thousand twitter followers. Be able to share my effervescent emotions with that world.
The world! Oh, I could be a travel blogger. Travel around, and get paid to take expensive trips and stay at resorts. I would write everything in detail, of course, but the best part would be the culture and relaxation. That would be the best. Ideal, really.
You know what's ideal, though, really?
Doctors make a ton of money. If I was a doctor - no, a midwife - I'd never have to worry about anything ever again. I could help deliver infants out of their mothers' wombs. I would specialize in teen and young adult mothers, helping them with the things they'd have no idea to do.
Or maybe a medical examiner. Like on Body of Proof, you know? Cut me up some dead people and figure out what made them die. Get to know people through their stories. The perfect mix of investigation and medicine. That would be awesome.
On a cheerier note, maybe I would be best as a wedding planner. I do love weddings. The dresses, the cake, the designs. Nothing is better than a wedding. It's a joy bringer, no matter how long the marriage lasts. I'll always be there for the happiest night of one's life.
You'd think that with my hatred of science class, I'd never consider becoming a scientist. But to be a scientist for Lush Cosmetics? I'd be making bath bombs all day! That would be so cool! I'd get money off all those delicious products. And I'd get to create something that makes so many people happy.
Or I could be a lawyer.
Or an Apple design person.
I could work for twitter.
I could open my own restaurant.

Clearly, I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. There's few jobs in this world that DON'T sound interesting to me. It's strange to think of how open my options are.

I wonder how many options most people have. I wonder, when it boils right down to it, where these kids I go to school with will end up.
A couple will be stars. It's impossible for them not to be.
Some will be professionals at something they don't want to do.
Others won't work. They've never had to work a day in their life, why should they start now?

The people of Flint are the same way. It's not that they're spoiled. For many, they don't know how to work. They've never applied themselves. They may be brilliant!
But they can't say that. They're not trying.
That's when it comes to guns. People give up trying, before they've hardly even started.
When, in reality, it's not time to give up yet.
It's time to work. It's time to achieve dreams, and do what you can to get there.
Guns, violence, drugs? Those aren't any sort of answers.
The answer to growing up is to keep trying. To push through the adversity life tosses at you, and go out there.
Make.
It.
Happen.

Remaining Optimistic

Today, there was a man with a gun on Court Street. He was in some UofM student housing, and when we passed, he was on the second floor.
There were probably 12 police cars there altogether, and that probably clears out the entire city's police force that was on duty.
Shootings are scary things. It makes me wonder what possibly possessed this man to want to possibly harm so many people.
Hurting people hurt people.
Surely, he'd had quite a rough day. I've had a few of those lately. Have they been so bad that I'd carry a gun into some student housing?
Well, no. But that's partly because I wouldn't touch a pistol in the first place. I'm too afraid that it would go off and hurt someone.
Highschool is very different than any other experience I've ever had. People everywhere make really, REALLY sucky choices. Sometimes, I try to say something. Perhaps it's a hint, that maybe that's a stupid idea.
Unfortunately, a lot of times, I keep my mouth shut.
Half of me wonders if anyone tried to ever say something to the man with the gun. Was there anyone in his life that might have suggested to him that he could take his life down a different path?
If everyone suggested that to just one person they knew was headed down a bad road, certainly, crime wouldn't be like it is today.
Our society is so tolerant of things I personally can't imagine! Pot-marijuana- is the norm. People are no longer surprised when someone in highschool says they smoke. In fact, oftentimes, people are more surprised when someone says they don't!
What does that say about our society?
Though things seem to be getting rougher everyday, and people need to help stop it, it's important to remain optimistic as well.
Thou shalt not conform.
I force myself to have the mindset that people are generally really well intentioned! Because, most the time, they are.
I try to treat everyone as though I love them personally. I don't ever want to be the person that just let someone slide through life, watching them destroy their own chances of success.
There is hope for this generation. It's not very abundant, but it's there.
And hope, like marijuana, can grow. People seem to be less aware of the former.
There are those who stand up to their friends, who leave parties, who fight the crowd.
Those are the world-changers, the believers, the ones our hope rests in.
Because in ten years, when the conformists are working at McDonald's, the ones who said no will be taking this world by storm.

A Bit About Myself

I'm not really self-absorbed. Not really. I like to think about other people- hear their problems, help them solve them. However, occasionally:: I like to talk about me.
So if you're not interested in hearing about what I have to say on the topic of myself, I urge you: Navigate away from this page.
This post isn't written necessarily to be about my city, though I'm sure my city will come into mention at least once.
I'm a mix of several characters that I've read about or watched.
I'm Spencer Hastings' ambition. Yale, I need you.
I am Hermione Granger's desire to know it all.
I am Blair Waldorf's control freak.
I am Audrey Hepburn's class.
I am Adah Price's often silent mind.

At the same time, I'm myself. I'm so distinctly Isi. And yes, I'm aware of that fact. Some people say I'm kind of geeky. That's okay. I know I can be. I'm dedicated to getting my homework done, and getting it done well.
Surprisingly, that's not all there is to me.
I'm a fan of breaking stereotypes.
I love God a lot a lot, but love gay people as much as anyone else on this earth.
I crave to know more about the world around me, but don't think that I know everything.
I listen to and love Ke$ha, Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, and Cady Groves.
My style is girly, and I'm a romantic. But I have friends that are anything but.
I read Gossip Girl, and classic female literature.

Stereotypes are the worst. I think of none that fit me, except for the common stereotype that white people can't dance. Which I can't, although I took ballet as a small child.

I am a bibliophage with a pulchritudinous vocabulary.


Believe it or not, I have an opinion on just about everything.
Take the censoring the internet bill, for example.
I don't actually hate the idea like most people I know. I think it could help cut back on the cyber-bullying, which I would love to happen. I don't think it means that people on youtube should stop doing covers. They usually credit the original singer anyway, and they're amazing.
Plus, I'm tired of seeing stupid people swearing all over the internet. And then posting pictures that make me embarrassed for them. Be classy, please.

I love a lot of things.
Blueberry muffins.
Happy people.
Fairytales.
Pink.
Forever21.
Days I have off school.
Hearing the things my teachers tell my parents about me.
That really, really great grade.
Ke$ha.
Jesus.
Flint.

Love. That is All.

It's starting to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go.
As long as everywhere you go is inside department stores.
Needless to say, the holidays are approaching quickly. More like flying at us, head down, read to knock us over with the first winter wind.
Which I assure you, is just around the corner.
Everyday, I think "Boy, I'd sure like to update my blog!"
But I can't, as my life decided that it wants to kill me with work. That's cool.
I think what really prompted me to write was the never-fading memory of Halloween. I might as well clear that up, you know. I didn't like beg my parents to move us out of this forsaken city. I'm still in love with good old Flint, MI. My emotions were just high at that time. The fear takes a while to run its course in my body.
Since I've written last, two (yes, you heard right-two!) significant things that have happened.
1. I went to YoungLife Camp.
- I fell back in love with Jesus, because He and I are BFFs. And I would minister you all right here, right now, but I dislike the word "minister" and that wouldn't be quite acceptable by time constraints.
2. My birthday.
- My birthday is clearly one of the highlights of life. 15 years, baby. How cool am I. Wait, don't answer that. I got pretty much everything I wanted, including five trillion things to the makers of the best bath company ever. http://www.lushusa.com/shop

Life is beautiful all the time. Not just on my birthday. Not just at Timberwolf Lake. Not just while I'm on Forever21.com.
You must know by now that I'm an exuberantly happy person. I'm too happy, some say.
My life of joy stems from this love that God's given me. It's INTENSE. I'm so focused on loving everyone all the time. And the joy that brings forth is incredible.
As this year travels on, I've thought more and more about what my Janelle once called "oh that lovely love."
What a gorgeous thing.
I love people.

Strike Some Terror in Me

Picture this.
It's Halloween. I'm wearing my cousin's Goodrich jersey and some ADORABLE grey jeans. Clearly, I'm a soccer player.
Clearly.
Janelle is a cute little kitten, dressed in black with precious whiskers on her face.
And yes, we are Trick-or-Treating.
At 14.
One street away from my house.
Some complete ?.£%|%%?! comes up behind us off the street. We do not know this man.
We double our pace. He does the same.
Suddenly, he snatches Janelle's hard-earned bag of candy.
And for the first time in my entire life, I hate this city. It's foreign to me. I'm literally afraid to be outside.
All for a bag of candy.
This event made it quite difficult to remain optimistic. It called to mind every time I had defended the thieves and criminals of this town.
I suppose it was a learning experience.
I merely wish it was a lesson I didn't have to learn.
As they say, ignorance is bliss.

I'm sure you're probably thinking about how I am overreacting. I don't blame you.
However, this certainly can be noted as the first bad experience I've had in this town.