Why do things matter?

Today, I got an A on my Tech Graph homework, a B+ on an essay from my English teacher, and was elected one of four Second Year representative on our school’s Student Council.

One of these on their own would probably make my day, and all three at once is sort of wonderful for me, and more than enough to make up for my abysmal Business Studies, Irish class where I bring the wrong book, and Science where I break the rim of a conical flask while trying to rinse it out.

Each of these things could have completely counteracted the positives if my teachers were that bit more mean; my Science teacher smiled at me and said it was okay, my Business teacher told me where I went wrong, and my Irish teacher just asked me to get the right Book next time. What I’m trying to say here is that good things > bad things, which is awesome, because given a situation gone even a little bit wrong my first instinct is to curl up into a ball and berate myself for caring too much.

Most of the time, investing too much of your feelings into one thing is a bad idea, because when you don’t get the part/grade/medal/season 3 of Sherlock, it’s sad and it’s awful and it has the power to ruin your day/week/month. On the flip side, when you do get the part/grade/medal/season 3 of Sherlock, it’s made a million billion trillion quadrillion quintillion times better because you have made it such a part of who you are, even for a brief period of time.

Things matter, I think, not because other people think that they matter, but because you have emotions tied up in them. Even if all of your friends right now are super-emotionally-invested in, say, cats right now but they’re allergic and coincidentally you hate cats, and they expect you to care about cats too and be sad you don’t have a cat except NOT REALLY

Because they may care about cats, and the fact that they can’t have cats makes them sad, and you sad, it doesn’t mean you too would sell your soul for a cat. What it does mean is that you would sell your soul for your friends.

KISSES MY METAPHORICALLY-ADVANCED DAHLINGS

Ciara

PS: I call you metaphorically advanced because you might even be able to tell that that up there is actually an ANALOGY
MAYBE

HMM

GRAMMAR

ALSO: A WEIRD CLOSE UP OF ONE OF MY STUDENT COUNCIL CAMPAIGN POSTERS

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Self Esteem and Special-ness

If you’ve ever read John Green’s An Abundance of Katherines, you will know of the mini existential crisis that the main character, Collin, has, in which throughout the book he slowly begins to realise that he is not quite as special as he would like to be.

I am a smart girl, and I know that, but there’s something in me that always wants to be the smartest, if you know what I mean. Everytime my friends achieve something, I get a niggling feeling in my tummy that it could’ve been me; if I’d TRIED HARDER or if I had PRACTICED MORE or if I had MORE TALENT or if I was PRETTIER. And, while some of these things are under my control, a lot of them aren’t, and I need to realise that.

I take rejection badly, especially in things that I care about, and this often overshadows the achievements of people I care about, in my head. For example, in fifth class, I tried out for Sciath na Scoil, a competition of Irish sports between schools, in camogie. I didn’t get in, and that crushed me at the time, so much that I could barely be happy for two of my friends who did get in. What I did do, however, was practice super hard for the year after, when I managed to get in after all. That said, I was still really bad, and the team lost all their matches, but I think that’s OUTSIDE THE POINT THANK YOU

My point is, I don’t know if I’ve really matured any since then. In sixth class, when I didn’t get the part I desperately wanted in our class play, I burst into tears. Last year, when I didn’t win something I thought I maybe had a chance at, and someone who put a whole lot less effort into it than me did, I (almost) burst into tears. This year, I didn’t understand something in Tech Graph, got a nosebleed, had a panic attack, and burst into tears. Again.

I’m not sure what the point of this post is, maybe to show you that I’m a terrrible human being or that there’s something wrong with my tear ducts.

I always start out my posts so full of ABANDON and POTENTIAL :’)

KISSES MY SURELY DISAPPOINTED DAHLINGS

Ciara

Ambitions and Apologies (and also, Nosebleeds)

To start this post, I want to apologise for not posting the past week; I’ve been busy, and lazy, and writing sometimes is something I want to do privately. I’m really, reeeeaaallly sorry, and I’ll try and get back into my schedule!

Yesterday, I decided to run for student council. This mightn’t sound like a big deal, but it’s playing into my general goal to MAKE MORE EFFORT THIS YEAR. To that end, I’m studying more, writing poetry for the biannual school magazine, the Sketch, and, yes, running for student council. Last year I didn’t want to stand out in particular, but this year, well. I’m already cookie hairclip girl.

(Did I mention I finally wore my cookie hairclip?! And only, like, three people asked could they try some!)

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Athletics, Clueless, and Enjoying School

I’ve made a sort of promise to myself to enjoy this school year; I’m with my friends all the time, I can walk around during break, and my classes are interesting, so what’s not to enjoy? My only real problems are that Business is confusing and I’m in an Irish class full of people who went to an Irish school and who know way, WAY more of the language than me. Yay.

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