The Burning of the Brightness

I actually thought this was a good book. It was kind of weird how everything happened in the end, with the Fake TV scene, the fight with the Mechanical Hound, Ecclesiastes, and the introduction of Granger. IT was a pretty neat plot and I'm looking forward to discussing the book in class.

Coming of Age

When people say "coming of age", what exactly do they mean?

Some people define it as when a teenager finally displays the maturity of an adult. Others say it's when the time finally comes of a great inheritance. Well, me, I say it's finally turning 18!

It seems like such a long time when your birthday is at the end of the year. Your friends are turning 18 left and right, and you suddenly feel like the little kid of the bunch. They can sign their own cell phone contracts, open up checking accounts, apply for credit cards, and are able to acquire a normal drivers' license (not the juniors' license, where you can't drive past 12am).
They're able to apply for better, higher-paying jobs, and pretty much date anybody they want, and nobody can say a thing about it. Parents give them more freedom and leeway to do whatever they want, including late night parties, staying out later, and the privilege of having boyfriend-girlfriend visits. But next Saturday, I'll have it all.

I took the liberty to purchase a couple of things for myself for my own little "coming-of-age" party, where I'll be spending the day with me, myself, and I. And though I know it'll take me a minute to get used to saying I'm eighteen, I say it loud and proud! Though, I know I still have 6 more days =).

Bring on the Boots!

So I went shopping with my friend yesterday down at Arundel Mills Mall, and while we were browsing a shoe store (solely for her; I don't really care much for shoes), I came across a stunning pair of boots. Now, these weren't just any ol' boots; they were brown, with little rusty gold studs on them, and had a very moderate heel. The stitching wound in curls and patterns, and I couldn't walk away. Nothing too fancy about them, except that they were perfect. My very own cowboy boots! Or, cowgirl, for that matter.

I had seen a couple of friends of mine catching on to the new trend, but I couldn't for the life of me find a pair that I liked; a pair that wouldn't necessarily make me look like I just walked right off the ranch, with not a "too-plastic-looking" leather exterior, and without a heel that would make me feel 8 feet tall. As a matter of fact, me and some other buds were talking about a friend's pair of cowboy boots and how we'd love to get some. One guy in particular, was questioning whether we thought it was weird that he wanted some for himself.

I was so excited to show my shopping buddy, but to my surprise, she just looked at me and laughed. She asked, "Are you serious, Nikki? I think you'll regret buying them when you get home. I think you just feel happy about being out of the York Galleria." So wrong she was!! I was ecstatic walking up to the register, swiping my card, and walking out of the store with the huge bag in hand. When I got home, I showed my boots off to my mom, and she didn't hesitate to stick her foot in them to check for a fit for future reference. I love my boots!

Love

Love
Musiq Soulchild


Love...
There's so many things I've got to tell you...
But I'm afraid I don't know how
'Cuz there's a possibility that you'll look at me differently...
Love...
Ever since the first moment I spoke your name...
From then on I knew, that by you
Bein' in my life things were destined to change,

'Cuz Love... So many people use your name in vain.
Love... Those who have faith in you sometimes go astray.
Love... Through all the ups and downs, and joys and hurts.
Love... For better of worse, I still will choose you first.

Many days I've longed for you, wantin' you,
Hopin' the chance to get to know you,
Longin' for your kiss... for your touch...
Many nights I cried from the things you do...
Feel like I could die from the thought of losin' you,
I know that you're real,
With no doubts, and no fears, and no questions...

Love... So many people use your name in vain.
Love... Those who have faith in you sometimes go astray.
Love... Through all the ups and downs, and joys and hurts.
Love... For better or worse, I still will choose you first.

At first you didn't mean that much to me, No...
But I now I know you're all I need.
The world looks so brand new to me...
Now that I found love...
Everyday I live for you, yeah
And everything that I do I do it for you.
What I say is what I feel, so believe it's true...
You got to know i'm true...

Love... So many people use your name in vain.
Love... Those who have faith in you sometimes go astray.
Love... through all the ups and downs, and joys and hurts.
Love... for better or worse I still will choose you first. =)

MARRIED...AT 17?

Yeah, so I understand that in some cultures, having an arranged marriage is mandatory, and getting married during your teenage years is a sign of good luck. In older times, while you were a young lady, your parents paired you with the man who would promise you(and the family, somtimes) the most fortune and stability, while it didn't matter at all if the man was 15 or more years older than you. Which brings me to my purpose of writing: I'm estatic that I live in a free country where the idea of an arranged marriage is far out the door.



After I was dismissed from church today, I found myself talking with the mother of one of my friends, who had very recently tied the knot with a guy that she's known for a little over a year. She had just turned 18 years old. In the talks with my friend, she explained to me that from the moment that they had seen each other, they knew they had to have one another. From then on, they were together; the families of both had approved each other's choice, and before you know it, her knight-in-shining-armor had got down on one knee and asked to have her hand in marriage. An apartment for the two had been bought an paid for in full before the wedding even took place. They seemed to be a match made in heaven, a page right out of a book of fairytales.



I flicked through the camera her mother gave to me, filled with pictures of a wedding from heaven. Her dress was gorgeous and his tux was Hugo Boss. But as I flipped from picture to picture, I coudn't ignore a peculiar sensation tossing and turning in the pit of stomach. Though it would be natural to be a tad bit jealous of how beautiful she looked and how handsome he was, recongnized the feeling as fear. She was just one of the few young people who was affiliated with my church, and all the others had already gotten married and left. All of a sudden, I felt an invisible pressure to get married pressing upon me.

Truth is, I know that I'm nowhere near ready for that level of committment. It's wonderful to daydream about big white dresses, thousands of flowers, gorgeous venues, best friends that would be your maids and matrons of honor. It may even ease the mind to believe that my current BF and I would actually make it to the alter. But being completely honest with myself, I know marriage is the farthest thing from my mind. I enjoy the perks of being a young woman able to date whoever I please without any permanent bondage to them. I am in no way downing teenagers who choose to get married early, I simply do not think it's for everyone, let alone, myself. I do believe it takes a great of thought and consideration from ANYONE contemplating marriage. As for me, I think I'll put myself first, and make sure I accomplish all of my goals that have to do with only before I give myself to someone else. Because, in marriage, you give up the "I's" for an "us". And I'm just not to keen on doing that at the moment.

Kisses aren't Contracts

Can somebody please tell me how society has taken such a sacred commodity and transformed it into such a casual, cliche' saying, that I find that it has little to no significance or meaning anymore? Three words that once made the world go 'round, the four letter word that warmed everyone's heart, now used so loosely that it's now the equivalent of breathing or blinking.

Love is a special bond that is shared between living things. It used to mean so much more than buying a gift (just because you have extra cash), or engaging in sexual intercourse (there happends to be nothing better to do). It meant having the utmost respect, the purest desire, and the most genuine care for a person or thing. So, now we must live in a world where, if we want to protect ourselves, we are required to take an extra look at a person, make a stricter evaluation of someone's personality before we give them ourselves.

Marriage these days is no longer about love, and that statement is supported by many premises. Teenagers are rushing into marriages after only weeks of knowing someone, sometimes out of wedlock, and sometimes for no logical reason at all. I do not believe that you could know enough about a person that would cause you to want to marry them in just 2 weeks. Marriage is alson being used as a substitution for "naturalization", or citizenship into the country, which is ridiculous! And though I totally understand why, in these present economic times, people would marry for the money, I disagree with the concept entirely. Making sure your family and yourself stay afloat is a must, and marrying someone wealthier may be exceptionally appealing. But where does LOVE play into these reasons anywhere?

People are getting harder and harder to trust. So be careful of what and whol you put your trust into, and who you share your love with. Kisses aren't contracts, presents aren't promises, love doesn't mean leaning, and company doesn't mean security.

The Hearth and the Salamander

When I opened this book, the first sentence took me completely off guard. I read the line a few more times until I was sure that what I read was correct. "It was a pleasure to burn." You couldn't imagine how many things were already flying thru my had at the moment. I continued on, and found myself trying to make my mind understand that the firemen I was reading about didn't put out fires, or save people from burning buildings, no. No, on the contrary, they started the fires, and were immensely frustrated when a person happened to still be on the premises, in a attempt to save their precious books, which seem to be the single motive of the terrible fires; it seemed to complicate their sanity when a building wasn't empty, make them feel guilty in a small way that was easy to ignore on all other accounts.

It took me so long to actually understand that Montag had met and was talking to a strange girl rather than an ex-girlfriend or something, someone who may be stalking him. I analyzed every word that she said. She spoke of times of peace. Then, the scene switches to Montag in his home, finding that his wife had OD on some sort of pills. I was so confused!! It was really disconcerting to me, how he described somehow already knowing that he would kick that little silver bottle. And it started to get interesting to me, these series of events: how he would always see the girl, the near-attack by The Hound, the conversation he had with his fellow firemen about how things used to be.

I really do like this book. It is exactly the nonsense that I would read(as my mom would say after reading the first page). I look forward to reading the rest of the book. Cheer up Elvis!