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Lost in Translation

When I started this blog, I was right in the middle of a beautiful piece of high school drama. And when my drama wasn't interesting enough, someone else would be going through a major 'crisis'. My friends and I could totally freak out over clothes, phones and boys. Oh, how times have changed...
These days I only experience college drama, which is real drama: people failing their most important class, people breaking up after a five-year relationship, people being forced to drop out of college for various reasons. So when I hear the kids at my internship school talk, I can't help but shrug. High school drama? Consider it solved!

OMG, did you see her shirt?!
source
Yes, I did see that girl's shirt. No, I didn't like it either. If you want my honest opinion: it looks terrible on her. But you know what? Talking about it behind her back is not going to make a difference. The girl will be wearing the shirt anyways and you'll be fed-up over something you can't change. My advice? Look the other way. Problem solved.

OMG, this guy asked me out but I don't like him!
Seriously? You seriously don't know what to do? It's so easy. If a guy asks you out, but you really don't like him, just say 'no'. Saying 'no' isn't that hard. You know what will be hard? Rejecting him after going on a date with him. He'll have his hopes up and stare at you with puppy eyes... Just say 'no' while it's still easy.

OMG, I only have 250MB for the rest of the week!
Ha! 250MB for a week? I have 200MB for a whole month! There is literally no need for drama in this case. Not even if you're a real smartphone zombie. You know what you should do? Use that free wifi almost every school in this country is offering. Use the wifi at home. Or even better: tear your eyes from that tiny screen and talk to your friends. Go do something fun. You don't need a smartphone to feel alive!

OMG, I'll never have a serious relationship!
Dear fifteen year old girl. Will you please CALM THE FLYING F DOWN?! You're fifteen. You're a tall blonde. There are tons of guys willing to date you, but not having found The One before your sweet 16 is not a disaster. I'm eighteen and I still haven't found anyone capable of liking me. Do I mope about that? Okay maybe a little but that's not the point. Just go live your life, enjoy your high school days and one day you'll find someone who'll like you. It may not happen today, it may not happen tomorrow, but it will happen. You're only fifteen. No need to be impatient and cause drama.

OMG, I have a test tomorrow and I haven't studied yet!
Well, you have today. Go home after class, open your book and study. Usually you'll be able to pass the test without much effort. And if you don't pass, it'll only bring your average down a little. You know what would be worse? Failing a crucial test in college and thus being forced to drop out. Happens all the time. Now that little high school test of yours doesn't sound so bad anymore, does it?

OMG, I actually hate my friend!
Yeah, I know it's tough to have a friend who annoys the living daylight out of you. Been there, done that. The best thing to do is to tell them face to face that you want to take a break from your friendship. It's not fun, but it'll change your life for the better. In the end, you friend will move on and annoy someone else. Don't go pretend you like your friend, that only makes things worse.

OMG, people think I'm in love with my best friend!
Do you have something to admit to yourself? Yes? Okay, then why cause drama by trying to deny the rumours? Rumours will always be there. You'll just have to accept that little fact and move on. No one is waiting fro a three-year soap around you and your best friend.
Wait, you're not in love with your best friend? No problem, just be friends and have fun. That's what friends are for. Ignore those people who believe you should get together. If you listen to them too much, you'll probably ruin you friendship.

You see, there's an easy solution to high school drama. But let's face it: secretly we all adore a but of drama. It makes high school just a little more fun. So if you're in high school: enjoy your drama days. Just don't go on about it when there's a stressed out college freshman in the room. She'll probably kill you for not being practical and moving on with you life.

Stay Awesome!
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It was career night at my old high school. I'd made a German flag with paper and had taken all my college textbooks with me. I was ready to tell the next generation all about my college and the education I was getting. My heart was in it for 100%. 
I was looking for more black paper to finish my flag, when my 11th grade German teacher came up to me. I dreaded this moment, because I'd told her at the graduation ceremony in June that I was going to steal her job. She was very nice, however, and after asking how I was doing, she asked me a question I never expected to hear
'So this is the career path you've always dreamt of?'
I laughed. 'No, it's not,' I told her.
She was intrigued, since I was always very motivated to learn German when she taught me.'Then what is you dream job?'
'It's stupid, but... I want to be a writer.' I turned red and felt like a kid who's just told everyone they want to be a mermaid when they grow up.
'Envy, I don't think that's stupid at all, as long as you believe in yourself.'
I thought it over and realized I didn't believe in myself. I believe in my daydream. Even thoug my heart is in my college education for 100%, it's not the only thing it wants. If I'd have to choose between being a good teacher and being a successful author, I'd immediately choose author. No doubt about it.

I never had unrealistic dreams as a kid: when all the girls in my class wanted to become a princess, I wanted to become an author. I never felt the desire to walk some posh career path: when all the girls in my class wanted to become lawyers or entrepeneurs, I wanted to become an author. I never cared about the money: when all the girls in my class wanted to become rich, I wanted to become an author.
I told my parents. They smiled and thought: it'll blow over. It didn't.
I told my teachers. They wanted to talk me out of it. They didn't succeed.
I told my friends. They smiled and thought: keep dreaming. And that's exactly what I did. People have called me stubborn, ignorant, unrealistic. I don't listen to them. I like to call myself a daydream believer.
You can actually buy this thing here
A solid ten years have passed since I wrote my first story. More than eight years have come and gone since I first dreamt of being a published author. In those years I haven't only been stubborn. I have chosen a normal career path after all. Just to be sure I will have an income. But when I get home from my internship on tough days, when I can't see the silver linings anymore, I go back to my daydream. I dream of my name on countless book covers, of fans standing in line to have their books signed. It's what gets me through the low points in life: the hope of things getting better, of living the dream.

"It's not just a daydream
If you decide to make it your life"
                                -She's on Fire, by Train

And then there's also this part of me that has listened a bit too much to Train. Because even though I love college, I don't want to be a teacher all my life. I want to be an author. Right now it's still a daydream, but I'm working hard whenever I can to make it my life. I'm far from reaching my goal, but I'm getting there. Sometimes I come home to see I've gained a new follower. Or I check my Adsense account and see that I've made a few more cents this week than I did last. Baby steps... but if you take enough baby steps, you'll get there anyway.

I'm in college, I'm a grown-up, I'm responsible. I have a bright future as a teacher ahead of me. But most of all I'm a daydream believer, with the potential of awesomeness.

Stay Awesome and never give up on your dreams!
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That's right, this is a non-Valentine's Day post on Valentine's Day!

You may remember me telling about how I fell asleep while reading Twilight? That caused a lot of comments, both from people who liked Twilight and people who hated it. I am one of the latter and told Neal and Tudda Pudda about the time I wrote an anti-Twilight story about a vampire who cursed, drank and killed people. Neal and Tudda Pudda practically demanded me to publish the story, so here is chapter one of A Vampire's Mistake!

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You have no idea what I quoted in the title? Well, if you'd shown me the quote a week ago, I wouldn't have known either. But after waking up from a nightmare that reminded me way too much of a Courage the Cowardly Dog episode, I did some googling and BAM. Childhood trauma relived.

"Adopt the slay"
Let's go back to the start of this milennium. Some of you weren't even born by then, but I was four years old and I'd just discovered Cartoon Network. One of my favorite shows was Courage the Cowardly Dog. Basically it's a show about a purplish dog who has all kind of disturbing... uhm... 'adventures'. Surf the web and you'll find tons of people with traumas caused by this show. Four year old me, however, loved it. I alwayd laughed way too hard and I can't remember being scared by an episode. Until I saw the episode called 'King Ramses Curse'...

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A few days ago my mom came home from the supermarket with a bag of croissants, pizzas, milk, lettuce and... a plant. The plant was a gift for me. It stands on my desk, all flowery and pretty and 100% my responsibility.
I immediately liked the plant and decided to name it. One name came to mind, but I couldn't use it. That name had already been used... And it didn't end well for that plant...

Not Rufus, but you get the idea
Source
Five years ago my mom and I were in a flower shop. In the back of the store, far away from the windows and the curious eyes of most customers, I found a tray of teeny tiny Venus fly traps. I begged my mom to buy me one.
After a bit of arguing, my mom gave in. Delighted with this triumph, I chose the one with the most... ehm... 'mouths' I could find and took it home.

To be honest with you, this plant was doomed from the start. You see, my mom liked the idea of a plant in my room. Taking care of said plant for me was not going to happen though, she told me. This plant would be my responsibility and no one else's. So when I came home I gave the plant water, put it on a saucer and named it Rufus, Rufus the Carnivorous Plant for outsiders.

Rufus had a great life those first few weeks. I talked to him, even though it made me feel utterly ridiculous. I poked his mouths with my finger to see them snap shut. When it got warmer outside and the insects returned from wherever they go when it's cold, I spent hours catching flies and feeding them to Rufus. You can imagine how excited I was when Rufus began to grow new leaves ad mouths. It was a wonderful time.

Then things took a turn for the worse. The new leaves turned brown, the new mouths never opened and the old ones didn't snap shut anymore. Rufus was dying.
I turned to my mom for help. She needed exactly half a minute to come to a conclusion.
'Envy, when was the last time you watered this plant?'
I bit my lip in shame. I had been so busy feeding him flies that I forgot to give him what he needed most: water. Weeks had passed since I'd last given Rufus water.
In a desperate attempt to safe Rufus, I gave him water. Much water. Too much water. I almost drowned the poor plants in the days after I'd discovered what was wrong with him. Then once again I stopped watering. It was the end of Rufus the Carnivorous Plant.

So here I am today, staring at a beautiful flowery plant with the memory of Rufus still fresh in my mind. I can feel all this responsibility weighing down on me. I can't let this one dies too. But first, a name.

I think I'll name her Avy.
Hi Avy.
Nice to meet you. I hope we'll be friends for a long time!

Stay awesome!
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I was fourteen when I first listened to an Elvis Presley song. It was love at first tone. When I told my mom about my musical discovery, she smiled and showed me the Elvis cd's she'd had for years. She also hadn't listened to them in years, because she'd expected me to dislike the music. But that day, Elvis was heard all through the house.
What I'm trying to say with this? Nothing special, just that it doesn't matter how old you are, where you're from or what you've been through; music creates a bond. It can change lives, generation after generation. That's why I have today's guest poster Bryleigh from A Little Yarn Blossom with me here: to tell you what the awesomeness of music can do!

“Hey, I’ve heard that song before? Who’s it by?”
“The Red Hot Chili Peppers! I love them!”
I was at a Christmas party at my best friend’s house. I was 12, and I had no idea how those sentences would have an effect on me. We were dancing and singing along to a RHCP song, and I was hooked. I loved the sound, and the lyrics. That was one of the funnest days ever.
Fast forward to about a year and a half.
I’m getting close to 13, and I was sad. A lot. I felt misunderstood, and I was missing my best friend. She had moved to Pennsylvania. (She’s moved back since then) I was grounded a ton. Throughout that whole time, I listened to RHCP. They helped, and I felt a lot happier when I was listening to them. They’ve been sort of like comfort food. When I’m missing her, or just feel in the mood, I play them and feel happy.
    




We’ve fast forwarded to present time, and I’m sitting with the Mac. I’m blogging, and the song I was listening to just finished. I’m trying to figure out what song I want to hear while the commercials play. I look to see at what the people I’m following are listening to. My friend Abby had listened to a song called The Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic! At The Disco.
Meh, why not? I can’t find anything I want to listen to anyway.
I clicked, and it began.
Herm. Not liking this song, maybe I’ll change it. The the chorus hit me.
WHAT THE F*** HEY I KNOW THIS SONG!!
I pulled off my earbuds and pulled the cord out of the Mac. The song blared out. “Do y’all remember this song?” I asked my sisters excitedly. “Yeah.” They said unexcitedly. From that moment I was hooked. (My sisters are too)
Music will always be a huge chunk of my life, and I love how it makes me feel. 
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About me


Envy. Dutch blogger. Est. 1996. No relation to the famous biblical sin. Worst bio writer on this side of the blogospere. Lives on cookies, apple juice and art. Friendly unless confronted with pineapple on pizza. Writes new nonsense every Thursday.

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