A life changing moment

One of the last blogs I wanted to write was one with a class specified topic. After much thought and consideration, it was decided upon that the topic would have to be something we wouldn't otherwise write about. Something out of the norm that challenged us to delve deeper into our thoughts and pull out something that we may not have known was even residing there. As soon as Ms. Lester gave us this idea, I immediately knew what I wanted to write about.

This past summer was the best one of my life...so far. I spent it pushing limits and exploring not only Europe, but more importantly the person I really was. The plan was to spend a month and a half in Europe visiting family and taking some personal time to relax and have fun. I was overwhelmed with excitement because this meant I would be spending two weeks in Greece with my 21 year old cousin. She is the closest thing I have to a sister and I love being around her. We're two of a kind, which naturally worried my dad. We had the same impulsive crazy nature that he always made sure to keep in check. He loosened the reins once we arrived, though. He was busy focusing on having his own fun with my mom, aunt, and uncle.

Sophia and I spent those two weeks in Greece in a blur of parties, restaurants, shopping trips, ice cream, and boys. It was the most amazing time of my life. I barely had time to catch my breath. It was a whirlwind of excitement that made me want to burst with life. There was no period of dullness.

The thing about Greece is that it's notorious for its night life. People go out at 11 and stay out til 5. Sophia was used to this and her parents were immune to protective feelings over her when she went out. My dad...not so much. One of my last nights there, Sophia and I were getting ready to go out to a big club on the nearby island. It was almost midnight when you heard our heels click clacking down the hall almost to the door, when my dad walked out of his room. He took one look at me and said "You're not going out. It's too late." Despite my pleading and begging, he stood strong to his decision. I was beginning to think it was hopeless when a sudden emotion stirred in me.

No! I AM going out. How many times in my life will I say I went out to party in Greece?! I'm not going to waste my time stuck in a house with all this life bustling around me. I was going to be with Sophia and I instantly knew we'd be safe. I glared him straight in the eye and grabbed the key. With one last glance I said "Yes I am. There's nothing you can do about it." and walked out the door.

Naturally, my dad was furious of my defiance for a day or so. When he calmed down, it was as if he was seeing me in a new light. The ordering was gone and was replaced with requests and compromises. I think that was the night that my dad saw I wasn't his little girl anymore. I think it scared him a little because now I could stand up to him. That was also the night I grew up a little. I realized my parents had good intentions, but in the end, no one knew it better then I did so I had to trust myself and my decisions. From then on, the reins have loosened to the point where they're not there anymore and I've dealt with the responsibility very well.

Heels are a guy's invention to make it harder for women to run away

As I'm sitting here on a cold metal chair, my torso is currently being compressed slightly by a black corset dress to the point where I can't comfortably breathe out. What a great way to start the morning eh?

Today the notion popped into my head that there's something I really want to talk about. Clothes. Typical you say. Girls and clothes. Especially Raisa and clothes. What's she going to say. "Oh my gosh! I like got this like pair of super cute jeans at like Hollister and they were sooooo fetch!" Not exactly. Yes, clothes are a great way to express yourself and show your true individuality. They are like living art but even better because life is experienced in them. This is all very true yet I've noticed a trend happening. A lot more importance has been put into clothes and people forget one thing. Clothes are skin deep. They're shallow and unimportant compared to everything else about a person.

I had a friend who was dating a guy for about two years. Now that's a long time to be with someone and of course, over time they had grown to become used to each other . They had their fair share of disputes and rough patches but they seemed to be going strong. One day out of nowhere the guy dumps the girl. Do you know the reasoning he gave her? It's the most ridiculous thing in the world! He said he was sick of seeing her in sweat pants! Now I understand that sometimes you want to see your significant other dress up and make some effort for you but to break up with someone over something as insignificant as sweats is ridiculous! Every time I think about it, I get upset all over again! I always hear girls commenting on how guys are so much meaner to them or tease them when they decide to "scrub" it at school. The sad truth of it all is that how you look today really plays a big role in how you are defined. It's not a good thought to keep in mind, but it's a realistic one. That's how our society works now. (Well unless you're in a nudist colony. Then, I think you have bigger problems then that. Especially if you're in a nudist colony that lives in Wisconsin.)

Everyday in school, I hear the click clack of heels on the tile floors of my school and when I look up, I see girls stumbling over themselves not to fall. They're squeezing themselves into this or bulging out of that and you can tell by the look on their faces that they realize this was a bad idea. I've had it happen too. I've worn things that I probably shouldn't have. You know how I know this now? Because looking back on it, I remember not feeling comfortable. That's the biggest thing. Whatever you're doing or wearing (in this case), you should feel comfortable because that means you're confident and that feeling will radiate throughout. Without getting mushy that just means, if you want to wear rain boots, go for it! If you can't walk in heels, it's okay. Not every single girl has to be dressed as if they just got off the cat walk.

I've been able to type this blog without popping a button or zipper on my dress. I'll be okay for now but as soon as I get home, I'm going to change right into some soffee shorts and a Ohio State tshirt and I don't care what any one has to say about it!

Free Space!

Once upon a time, there was a red headed princess named Diana. No, she wasn't the one who married Prince Charles and had gorgeous blond boys. She was the 5'5ft tall princess who reigned over the realm of Cudahy. As far as kingdoms go, it clearly wasn't the best but she made do with what she had. Diana was the typical redhead. She was fiery, angry, and abusive. If you were in her favor, though, she was the biggest sweetheart you'd ever meet. What made her truly different, was that she ruled alone. She slept alone. She ate alone. She was always alone. To the perplexity of her peasants, she was as happy as a clam. That's really happy, for those of you who don't know the emotions of specific sea creatures.

One day, a somewhat scrawny knight from the bordering kingdom of Greendale decided he would bless fair Diana by making an appearance and offering his hand in marriage. This knight was called by the name Kevin. Kevin was a bit full of himself because his kingdom was cleaner, nicer, and offered more AP courses. He just rolled into Cudahy and went straight up to Diana's court. He ignored the whispers and scoffs from Diana's ladies and barged into Diana's chamber.

He found her laying on a hammock getting fed grapes by a gorgeous tan manservant. He quickly dismissed him for he needed no other audience except her to make his proposal. There was no doubt in his mind that she would accept. He had all the wenches' attention. He considered himself a great catch and Diana was the lucky one who was going to be there to catch him...or so he thought. "Diana my darling. My fair red headed beauty. We should get married, dude. You like me. I'm okay with it. Let's just do this, babe." He kneeled down on his one bony knee and waited for the waterworks.

And waited some more...

And some more...

Finally, he heard chuckling. The chuckling turned into giggling. The giggling erupted into full blown laughter that continued for a while. Kevin was stunned. He hadn't expected such a response. He didn't know how to react to this now and he was having a sensory overload. He looked up at Diana with big pleading eyes questioning her motive. She got up from her hammock and stepped over to him.

"I'm surprised you could fit into my door with that enormous head of yours...dude. Honestly Kevin, thank you so much for offering to marry me. I'm sooooo lucky. You're so perfect. You play volleyball, you ride your horse well, and you have dimples. It's everything I've ever wanted?"

"Then whats the problem?" Kevin questioned earnestly.

"Well besides your complete lack to detect sarcasm, I find you ...well...a bit repulsive. You play volleyball Kevin. Good for you. You have dimples. I have a cute rabbit nose. I win. You come from Greendale. I don't care. I just can't do a three way relationship between me you and your ginormous ego. Excuse me while I go throw up in the corner."

Kevin began to get teary eyed. No one had ever spoken to him like that ever before. Suddenly his tights felt too tight, the room too hot, and his throat was dry. He didn't know what to do. The room seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. He began to panic. All of a sudden, he pulled out the last move in his bag of tricks. He began to sing.

That's when Princess Diana did something that wasn't so lady like. She slapped him and told him to get himself together. Then, she kicked him out of her quarters and her kingdom. Stories have been told that since then, Kevin has been seen wandering naked with Eagle Scouts through the wilderness. Others say he married some big chinned troll. They are all rumors, of course. One thing is for sure though. Diana is still a redhead. (She might not always be alone, though. That's subject to change.)

These are going to be the longest four weeks of my life...

Today, I'm lucky enough to write about whatever I want. I'm sitting here...and thinking. Still thinking. Thinking harder. Thinking deeply and then ouch! I realized, I'm absolutely sick of thinking!

After coming back from spring break, I really thought my senioritis would improve. NOPE! If anything, it's gotten terribly worse! Last night, I was sitting there trying to study for my AP Calc test which I am fortunate enough to be taking in two days. I'm sitting there thinking and stressing. Stressing and thinking. What's the second derivative of this equation? Am I supposed to plug in the x coordinates to find where the graph is increasing and it's local maximum? My brain goes into instant cramp mode. It's screaming at me " WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! PUT DOWN THE MATH PACKET AND STEP AWAY FROM THE CALCULATOR. THIS HURTS. STOP PUTTING ME IN PAIN PLEASEEEE RAISA. I'VE BEEN GOOD TO YOU. I HELP AMUSE YOU, I MAKE SURE YOU DON'T LEAVE THE HOUSE WITHOUT SHOES ON, I STEER YOU AWAY FROM BAD DECISIONS...MOST OF THE TIME. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!"

Now, I'm a girl that tends to listen to her better judgement....most of the time. I dropped the packet down and went outside. Guess what happened? I instantly felt better. I have four weeks left. I honestly don't care anymore. I really don't. Am I going to be going home tonight and doing homework? Ha! I'm going to go and play bar league softball with my friend! These four weeks are dragging on unbelievably slow and I don't know if I can survive. Do you know Madison, LAX, and Oshkosh get done in about two weeks? Two stinkin' weeks time while I'm sitting here rotting in a plastic chair listening to talk about a market economy. My life really looks good right about now.

I've come to the conclusion that after AP and placement testing, I will be set. The biggest stress in my life will be not tripping up when I accept my diploma. From there, it's clear sailing and tanning. Hello summer, I've missed you so!

Love isn't a box of chocolates; it's a perfectly made bologna sandwich

Women flip through pages upon glassy pages of the latest magazines trying to find a new way to spark up their relationships. New hair styles, ten minute ab/glute workouts, makeup tips; they attempt anything that can make them seem more desirable. They spend hours of time primping here and waxing there only to be left in a could of disappointment. They freak out when nothing seems to work and begin to nitpick their poor defenseless guy, assuming after all of their unnoticed efforts, there is clearly something wrong with HIM!





It was my grandma's understanding that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Ignore the fifty dollar lip plumping lip gloss or the exquisite European eye shadow that cost you an arm and a leg. Truth is, he probably won't care...until he sees the credit card bill. Then he'll explode. The perfect bologna sandwich, though, does just the trick.





Two pieces of bread, the perfect slices of pinkish red bologna heated for 30 seconds and a slice of All-American yellow cheese cut into two perfect triangles. It's like irresistible bait no one can deny. Surprise him with that on a platter and you might as well be giving him the best five minutes of his day. Nothing will beat snuggling together, sharing a sandwich. It'll show that you really do care what he wants, not just what you want him to want. To you it might be just a sandwich, but to him it'll be a sign of acceptance to his ways. That will mean so much more to him than any overpriced dress you're trying to impress him with. That's all it takes. A sandwich every now and then. A back rub, a cute little text. It's the little things that will leave a lasting impression. Soon you'll be calling each other "darling" and "sweetheart" again. You'll be in for a pleasant surprise when he offers to go to that dinner party with you or take you out to eat at that new French restaurant, spontaneously.

Give a little, get a little. That's how a good relationship works. There needs to be balance in it, just like there needs to be balance in a perfect sandwich. Not too much meet and not too cold. Everything works out when the recipe's just right!

At what point do you stop becoming friends and become sisters?

So as I turned to my left, staring wide eyed at my best friend, I asked her to assign me a topic to write about. She looked me straight in the eye and simply replied..."Our friendship." As I'm a little sick today, I didn't clearly comprehend what she had just said. It took a couple seconds from the neurons in my brain to connect for me to understand what she had she said. "Seriously?" I questioned her. That's what she REALLY wanted me to write about. "Did I stutter?" she fired back. And that right there, is why she's my best friend.

These past four years I have had to deal with my fair share of hardships. Sickness, fights, fails, parties, college preparations, and all the theatrics that come with teenage angst. Throughout all of this, I have learned my share of life lessons, sometimes in the worst ways possible. But when it's gotten to be too much for me to handle, I look to my left and there she is. My best friend. She offers everything she can to help me get through it and that right there is invaluable to me. I'd like to think I'm not a naive type of girl. I know that when I leave this school, I will only keep in contact with about 2% of the people I'm friends with now. It's sad, but hey the truth isn't always sh*ts and giggles? It's not even a question of whether or not I'll be close with her, though. There's no doubt in my mind of that. Not a single doubt. Friendship like this withstands distance, change, and every other curve ball thrown. I don't have any doubts about anything, which is a hard concept to grasp considering that nothing in life really seems certain. I know that. The feeling in the pit of my stomach though just keeps telling me not to doubt...and for good reason.


My best friend has been with me for about 6 years. It's not so much we're best friends as more like meant to be sisters. I love the fact that we don't have to refer to each other as "HEY BEST FRIEND" "OH HEY!" because we simply need the label to have someone to be secure. Some girls call each other that without anything behind it, making it seem hollow and worthless. We are constantly learning how to fix our friendship for the better. I love how I can be myself and if I have an honest opinion, it won't get interpreted as an insult. I don't have to walk on egg shells or be a yes man. No games, just straightforward feelings. Morals, ideas, sense of humor. It's all the same. It's like we almost finish each other's...sandwiches. I'm a person who doesn't like to put her feelings out there so when someone can look at me instantly and know what I'm thinking without even having to utter one word, that really means something! Every secret, ever fear, we've shared. Good friends share fears. Great friends help push you to tackle those fears. They want the best for you, to shine regardless of the situation without feelings of jealousy or insecurity. A lot of friends can say they're close but there's always a tint of wanting to be a bit better then the other. That feeling isn't ever there with us.


We've been in enough situations to know that. When pushed, we don't stumble into each other, but push back together. One for the price of two. That's how it's always been. Vinny & Pauly D. Thelma & Louise. CATDOG! College is going to be yet another challenge we're going to overcome. Everyone says you shouldn't go off to college with your best friend attached to your hip because by the end of the semester, you'll be at each other's throats. I would have loved to prove everyone wrong because I know that wouldn't have been the case. We're around each other enough to already know all of our habits and flaws and we're not at each other's throats yet. The stipulation that a best friend would hold you back from meeting new people is understandable but in this case, inapplicable. When we go out, we leave each other and go our different ways, but at the end of the night we always come back to each other. We allow each other to go off and experience things separately because we are so comfortable with being friends, we don't need to be attached at the hip constantly. Most of what college offers, we've faced and have fared pretty well. For our first year, we're not going to be able to do this, though. As much as that kills me, I know we'll make the best of the situation. I don't want a new best friend. A new person to tell everything to. Nothing can make up what I have and I don't want it to.


We share the same views on the most important ideas and values (about friendship, love, education, boys, family, friendship, holding on to morals, etc) yet our differences keep us together. We're different in the way we work, the way we handle situations and fights, and definitely the boys we go for. The important things brought us together, our quirks and differences keep us there. This is one of those things you're scoffing at and saying "Psh, yeah right." The thing is, words can't really describe it. I'd say "You had to be there." but then you'd have to be there for every 4 hour phone conversation, every Starbucks run, every party, every laugh, every tear, every feeling of knowing you're not in this whole mess alone. And even if you were still there for all of that, you'd still just barely grasp what our friendship means.

Introduction

If you are currently reading this, then it's either one of two reasons. A. You're the lonely type who seeks solace in reading peoples' blogs and then spending the rest of your day making conversation with them, trying to stir up some desolate friendship or 2. you're in my Advanced Composition class and have to read this for our assignments. Either way, I'm sorry for you. So I guess introductions have been skipped. I'm sorry. My name's Raisa. I'm a senior at Cudahy High School and will be attending the University of Wisconsin Madison in the fall. I'm a tad bit excited about that! :) That means, though, that I can't slack off these next two months if I want to pass the rest of my classes. That in turn, inadvertently, leads me back to this blog. You'll be with me for the next two months, reading my work, and I hope getting something out of it. True, I really want this to be another good grade in my Skyward, but it would be pretty amazing if as I'm walking down the hall, someone who has read my blog will come up to me and say something along the lines of "Hey, what you wrote yesterday really made me laugh. That's cool. I'm not creeping on you, though. Don't worry." That would probably make my day! Anyways, back to this blog. Being a teenage girl, you can probably expect me to vent on here about love, relationships, annoying classes, and everything in between. On occasion, I want to get into deeper things though, like general topics such as fear or the future. Hate and overcoming adversity. Things that aren't always so black and white to write about. I can't guarantee it will always make sense but I'll do my best to try and convey my thoughts out in an appropriate fashion, with an occasional sarcastic or odd remark of course. I hope you enjoy this blog. If you don't, then I'm going to find you and cut out your...actually I'm kidding. If you don't, then it's whatever. One thing I've taken away from the past four years of being in this graffiti covered, b.o. smelling typical high school is that you can't always please everyone. It will NEVER happen. So just enjoy the ride and let everything fall by the wayside.