Trees.

When a rain storm starts, the cover beneath a tree is dry. At least, the space beneath a tree is out of the direct force of the rain. You can stand under a tree and not get wet, but after a while, after the rain storm stops, the tree has soaked up all this water. It's leaves are like little dumping vessels of rain that tilt at the slightest of breezes. It really only rains under trees when the storm has passed.

Proof.

Proof of what? Proof that I have worn pink. And barrettes. And crazy hair. And absurd sandals. And was darn cute. I used to model a lot when I was little. Scraped up quite a toy fund while I was at it. Not to mention college.

40th Post

I signed on this morning, no particular blog post in mind, and noticed that I've posted 39 times. That makes this my 40th post! I could be wrong, but I think that means that this is the most I've ever posted on any one blog. I've been loyal to my blog, despite my shady past in the blogosphere.

It's a Sunday morning on the Hill, and I've nothing to do today. That is a beautiful prospect for a boarding school student. You see, when we're not in school, like on the weekends, we like to leave campus. Go into the real world. Have fun in the city. Go to lunch with friends...all sorts of things that require planning and energy. Yesterday the juniors had PSATs, so my roommate was very busy all morning, and ballet dancers had rehearsal for the Nutcracker, so a lot of people were very tired and busy all day. I wasn't exactly dancing or cranking out standardized tests, but I was busy too. So now, on this chilly Sunday morning, I sit in my common room, finishing up this blog post and preparing to spend my morning drinking tea and read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch. To everyone reading this: Take a mental health day! Have a good cry (I've already done that, but I chalk it up to missing my parents). Drink a good cup of coffee or tea and read a classic.

Something Wicca this way comes.

Before I start: Salem is my favorite place in the entire world.

Reasons why Salem is the best place on Earth:

1. It is adorable

2. Pumpkins adorn every porch.

3. Most every house and lawn is decorated for Halloween.

4. Witches walk around the Salem streets fully clad in black cloaks, hats, and boots.

5. An older witch, complete with a pentagram tattoo on her widow's peek, pulled me over and told me "I like your pentacle, little witch." (I had just purchased a sterling silver pentagram, which I was wearing around my neck.)

6. I had peanut butter chocolate fudge. 'Nuff said.

7. I got my first official psychic/tarot reading.

8. I thought Natick was quaint...Salem takes the cake with its cobblestone streets and apothecaries.

9. I learned the term "Leaf Peeper" on the drive up through a beautiful countryside full of fiery trees. Apparently, a Leaf Peeper is a person who drives along the North Eastern coast to watch the changing leaves. Most Leaf Peepers originate from the Carolinas, namely South Carolina. They are usually old people. Interesting stuff.

10. I've wanted to go to Salem since, I don't know, EVER!

And now that I have, I can safely say that it is my absolute favorite town ever.

Love is Louder

So, I survived my first peaceful protest. In all honesty, part of me was afraid I was going to get shot by an angry religious fanatic, or caught in a riot, or something else horrible and violent. It was not so. A huge group of kids from my school and I took the train in from our school into the city, where we walked for about thirty minutes to get to the place the counter-protest was congregating. Even walking there was magical, as we were all excited, in good moods, and dressed in pretty white clothes (the protest encouraged this, as a sign of peace).

On the way there another group of young people joined us. They were college kids, and thought we were cute and young. I suppose college students do consider us babies in the ways of the world. It's funny how such things are measured. Anyways, the crowd of happy, white-clad people grew and grew. Every orientation, gender, walk of life was there, it seemed. It was slightly ridiculous how excited we all were, and it didn't help that movie cameras and news station started to flock. Finally, we were instructed by the amazing and kind college kids organizing this to line up in rows of three. Then, we marched. We whooped and cheered and made the peace sign and signed "love" in sign language. Periodically we broke into loud chorusing chants of "Love is louder". We marched around a large city block twice before reconvening in our starting place to celebrate. People from all over the city area came to watch us. Some were happy to see us, others not so much.

At the end, just as we were dispersing, a large, white van pulled up beside our enormous group. The van's outer walls were absolutely covered in scripture quotes. I was completely freaked out at first, and then the passenger rolled down the window. We knew he was from the Church we were counter protesting against, and he was not pleased to see us. Basically, he informed us that we were all going to hell, and then held out a narrow, yellow pamphlet detailing why. So what did we do? We showed him the strongest love we could. We lined up in front of the van and chanted
"Love is louder" with smiles on our faces until they drove off and away. It was epic.

I learned many a valuable lesson yesterday, the most valuable being that positivity truly conquers all. Acceptance and compassion are palpable and strong. People can be very, very good. Even wonderful.

Love is louder.

Love is Louder

So, I survived my first peaceful protest. In all honesty, part of me was afraid I was going to get shot by an angry religious fanatic, or caught in a riot, or something else horrible and violent. It was not so. A huge group of kids from my school and I took the train in from our school into the city, where we walked for about thirty minutes to get to the place the counter-protest was congregating. Even walking there was magical, as we were all excited, in good moods, and dressed in pretty white clothes (the protest encouraged this, as a sign of peace).

On the way there another group of young people joined us. They were college kids, and thought we were cute and young. I suppose college students do consider us babies in the ways of the world. It's funny how such things are measured. Anyways, the crowd of happy, white-clad people grew and grew. Every orientation, gender, walk of life was there, it seemed. It was slightly ridiculous how excited we all were, and it didn't help that movie cameras and news station started to flock. Finally, we were instructed by the amazing and kind college kids organizing this to line up in rows of three. Then, we marched. We whooped and cheered and made the peace sign and signed "love" in sign language. Periodically we broke into loud chorusing chants of "Love is louder". We marched around a large city block twice before reconvening in our starting place to celebrate. People from all over the city area came to watch us. Some were happy to see us, others not so much.

At the end, just as we were dispersing, a large, white van pulled up beside our enormous group. The van's outer walls were absolutely covered in scripture quotes. I was completely freaked out at first, and then the passenger rolled down the window. We knew he was from the Church we were counter protesting against, and he was not pleased to see us. Basically, he informed us that we were all going to hell, and then held out a narrow, yellow pamphlet detailing why. So what did we do? We showed him the strongest love we could. We lined up in front of the van and chanted
"Love is louder" with smiles on our faces until they drove off and away. It was epic.

I learned many a valuable lesson yesterday, the most valuable being that positivity truly conquers all. Acceptance and compassion are palpable and strong. People can be very, very good. Even wonderful.

Love is louder.

I'm protesting tomorrow.

Tonight, my school hosted a viewing of the Larame Project. This film documented the horrific beating and death of a 21 year old gay male in Larame, Wyoming in 1998. Basically, I cried for about an hour straight. I am a firm supporter of acceptance and love, whatever gender, race, orientation, ANYTHING a person might be. Peaceful acceptance should be the focus.

Anyways, tomorrow Emerson college is putting on the play, and, wouldn't you know, a group of fanatic religious people are protesting it. Again. religious people have every right to practice their faith, but when it involves hating other people just because of the people they love, I bristle. So my people from my school as well as other students (from college) are creating a peaceful, counter-protest. We're going to march around the one of the city's commons whilst singing and showing love and support for the gay and straight communities of the world.

So, send us good vibes and love for everyone, even those who harbor hate.