Possible : a handy word to keep in mind.

Eighth grade held my second graduation ... (the first one being the one from fifth grade.)
I remember how fun and torturous dress shopping was for me. I wanted to look absolutely beautiful but that was difficult to do since the particular dress I wanted was not easy to find in my size.

The corset had a heart-shaped cut at the cleavage and it was very shiny.
The bottom part was white and stretched outwards with lots of volume like a princess, only it was only up to my knee.
I think we visited about 10 stores asking for that dress until we found one in Wood bridge mall that had it's last one in my size. I was so happy , but on the inside I was depressed. I didn't want to have to spend so much time on a dress, when I can make it possible for me to go into one store and find it right away.

Anyways, I had my dress, I enjoyed my graduation and I was ready to make that transition into high school.

On September, we went back to school.
It was nice to start off a new stage in my life with everyone on my side. We all greeted each other, and talked about our vacations.
On December 4th, I had another change to me.

Aaron, a very close friend of mine, asked me out that day after school at the library.
I had liked him for a while, so of course I said yes.
I felt happy, but kind of weird.
He was my first boy friend ever, and I wasn't sure what the boyfriend/girlfriend protocol was.
Everything went pretty smoothly, people started coming up to me telling me that they loved seeing us as a couple.

Come the day of love, Valentine's Day, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to get him a gift, or if we would skip it since we had only been together for a little more than two months. When I walked into school that day I found a very wonderful surprise. There he was. It was my first couple holiday with an actually partner and he had gotten me gifts! He got me a cute teddy bear with a dozen roses.
I remember that day so well, I felt special, in a way that I never did before.

We kept dating, until May.

I started getting distant from him. I felt myself drifting , and couldn't do anything about it. I knew the only thing that I HAD to do was let go. It wasn't fair to me, to stay in a relationship where I wasn't happy, and it was definitely not fair to him, to stay in a relationship where one of them didn't want to be.

It was difficult. I still deeply cared for him, and seeing his face change when I said everything, was not one of the best moments in my life. I will never know if I made the correct decision when I broke up with him, but that's the mystery of relationships.
You get one, you leave it.
It doesn't work out, you learn from it.
Until you get to that point in life where you are able to distinguish the relationships worth having and the ones that aren't. Though when entering a relationship, everyone sets themselves up for heart break. I think that's the true beauty of being with someone as more than friends. There is more pressure put on you guys, at the beginning, maybe to have the perfect dates, or to look nice for the other one. But then you get comfortable, and get to the fun of everything. Being with someone intimately in a way that is only for you two (excluding the whores who are always there waiting for their time to dig their claws into your relationship). I feel that getting to that point is worth, risking heart-ache, and drama.

I'm a firm believer in destiny when it comes to love, two people meant to be will find each other eventually, but that only happens if you work at the relationships you have before that. Nothing will fall in your lap. God doesn't send you a person with a giant sign saying "I'm your one" written on it. Like everything, you work hard at it, and stick to it, and be honest with that person and with you. They'll stay in your life, if they are meant to stay there.

It's what I tell myself, when I go through the troubles of letting go. If the person wants to stay, they will, and if they don't, you know that something better can be headed your way. Either way, at the end of the bumpy road is waiting something that you can only get to by enduring what life throws at you. But would you do anything possibly in your reach if it means true happiness? This speaks for love and for dress shopping and basically everything else.

Just have to remember, nothing is ever impossible.

    
    

Thus, I found myself.

Eighth grade was a turning point for me.
I was always someone who thought she didn't really belong in any groups. Like I would be able to be friends with who ever was nice to be, and BAM! I would be already part of my own little group of people. But in high school, shit doesn't work that way.
The cliche'd version of high school shown in teen movies, is somewhat true in an overly exaggerated way, ha-ha.
What I mean is, yes Jocks do hang out in their own cliques, and you can distinguish the popular kids from the freaks, but no you don't see a football player dunking a geek's head in the toilet everyday or the popular girl hanging off the shoulder of the quarterback. At least not in the high school I've been to.

Where I went, those people hung out with each other but also socialized with everyone. Of course you always have that small group of animals that can't be bothered by other's feelings and so they take it upon themselves to ruin the lives of students who they think are below them in a social scale.
Anyways, enough about them. This is my blog, and this post is about discovering my clique (but not really a clique).

Ahhhh, BAND.

The love of my life. 

The reason I survived high school. 

The road to my awesomeness.

In sixth grade, we were forced to have one hour of band everyday. It was a mandatory class, so we were also obligated to learn an instrument. Since my best friend, Karolyn, chose clarinet ... I too decided to go with that instrument. You can notice how much personality I lacked but whatever.

In seventh, I wasn't going to join band since I didn't really see it as something that I would enjoy to do as an extra. But in eighth grade, I felt the sudden urge to join chorus and band with Jennifer. Of course, Jen didn't want to but we had gotten close that year and so I was able to talk her into it. My one year of clarinet (which was torture by the way, switching from a string instrument to a woodwind.) landed me one of the clarinet rentals that the school had. People with most experience, got first dibs. 

That year, I realized that band is where I belonged. Jennifer never joined after eighth grade because she didn't really enjoy herself, but I kept it going all the way through most of my years of high school. 

The instrument locker room was a sanctuary for me, and I felt truly happy when I would walk in there, grab my case and go over to my chair with a stand in front of me, showing me a sheet of music that I would be able to turn into a work of art with the rest of my fellow band members. 

I find it beautiful to be able to bring to life, what someone else imagined. I would always see in my mind the composer listening to us practice everyday, up until the concert night and saying "this is how I pictured the song sounding like". 

Maybe it's just me, but nothing compares to the goosebumps I get, when my band teacher would play for us a new song on her radio that we had to learn. The thought of us being able to create that kind of emotion through music is almost unbearable. 

That's what I want to feel for the rest of my life. And I know that in or out of high school, the band is where I will always belong. 

Two treasures.

Hey there! Hi there! Ho there!

Sixth grade wasn't much of a big deal, other than the fact that I met one of my best friends in that class. Karolyn and I became very close that year, although by the time it finished she moved to Pennsylvania, and I was left alone, to go through the rest of middle school and high school without someone to tell everything to, about how horrible my day was, or the opposite.
I kept her in my memories always, remembering who was the one to keep me sane during that year. Especially with the crazy whack job who used to call herself a teacher.
Sixth grade ended pretty quickly, though out of all my school years, it holds one of the two most important memories that I have.
The next is seventh grade.

  It seems as if only yesterday, I was at the hospital getting a check up done in order to register to NP Middle School. I wasn't moving that far away, only an hour drive to get to all of my friends but back then it was a big deal. I would have to be the new girl for the second time in my life. I wasn't really one to move around much, and the fact that I was born TREMENDOUSLY shy didn't really help me in this situation.

The middle school was mixed with the high school. Same building, different wings. The first day was pretty awkward since everyone knew each other from elementary school, no one really paid any attention to the new girl.

The first week was pretty standard, but the most interesting times were lunch and gym. I loved one, and hated the other. (Can you guess which is which?) Anyways, after gym when we would all pack our things to go to class I would say bye to this girl named Jennifer. She was so nice, although our conversations lasted like two seconds.

Thankfully, I never had to sit alone during lunch for the soul reason that we had to sit according to homeroom numbers. I never talked to anyone but at least I wasn't the freak in the corner, forced to watch everyone else enjoy their lunch in company.

One odd day in my life, after sitting down to eat, this girl next to me says "hi" in the squeakiest way possible. My first impression of her was simple. She was short, quirky looking, and seemed sweet.

"Hey" was all I said, followed by one of my famous "I'll be sweet but only to be polite" smiles.

Her name is Juliana. Julie for short. Usually I was capable of being nice, while actually not caring about the situation but in this particular one, she just wouldn't budge. She kept talking and talking and I remember telling myself to be happy that she isn't being mean to me, but I didn't really want any friends. I felt like I already had all my important ones.

My motto was : old is always better than new.

'Till this day, I recall her calling Jennifer (from gym class) over to the table and asking her to eat with us so all three of us could get better acquainted with each other. By this point, I was actually hating my life at NP. Only back then, I didn't really expect Juliana to be who she is to me today.

At some point in that year, something changed drastically in our friendship. We went from "hey" and "what's up" to making dirty jokes and all that fun stuff. We got to see a side of each other that wasn't there before, that maybe we didn't even know until we met each other.

Some people we meet in life, stay and form a part of us, and others leave.
What they both have in common is that they each bring to the table an experience. Whether it's a bad one, that helps you learn for future references. Or a really awesome one, that teaches you that it's not all bad out there.

These girls, are the two people who I can truly call a best friend, sister, and any other word to describe, what I hope to be a friendship that lasts a lifetime.

Inhale...&....exhale.

Greetings fellow companions!

It has come to my attention that fourth grade was actually a very dull time in my life. Nothing special happened worth mentioning (as if any of this is.) ; so let's move on up to the fifth grade.

This one is great, because it's the one that involves my transition from elementary school to middle school.

Our teacher was tough on us but had a sweet side to her also. We worked and worked in her class but then there were times when we had as much fun as possible.

I had made a new best friend, since Danairy was in a different class. Her name was Natasha. She was a simple girl, who accepted me easily into her life. Soon enough I was bringing her over to my house for sleepovers and vice versa. Apart from her, I met other people who were great and others who were fake...(yes, even at that age.). For instance, there was Mauro. He was a guy in my class, really sweet and he was also from Uruguay so that attracted me more to him. You can even assume that I had a small, almost invisible crush on him.

At our table sat, Natasha, Mauro, Thayris, Elizabeth and me. We became some what close since we worked together most of the time, but out of all of them ... I was most closest to Natasha.

Apart from being a fifth grader, I was also a Safety Patrol in the mornings with Danairy. We got to open the doors for the kinder-gardeners ever morning! Talk about tough labor...

The whole year was spent doing what a normal kid does. Going to school, enjoying my time with my friends, and envisioning middle school life. Getting to be older, but at the same time the youngest.
In elementary school, you feel best when you are in fifth grade because you know that you are the oldest in the school.
In middle school, you feel best when you are in eighth grade, for the same purposes.
In high school, it's senior year.

We spend days wishing that it would become the time to be older and be able to have life experience and all that, but in all reality, life is just there to screw you over.
Oh! How I wish to go back to the good ol' days.

Cliched tip of the day?
Enjoy this day, this week, this very second, because it won't come back to you ever again. A second may not seem like much but soon it starts turning into minutes and hours until a whole year has passed you by in a blink of an eye. It's always nice to take a deep breath, take a step back and notice how beautiful life can actually be.

Is it possible to get writer's block when writing about past events?

I'm currently suffering from that but it may be caused by the lack of memories that I have up until third grade.

This was probably one of my best years, in school history.

It's when I transferred to  Elizabeth's elementary school which went by the name of Peterstown School #3.
I was the new kid, but with 9 years of age, I didn't understand how nerve wrecking it can be. I adapted to pretty well to the area, and to the people in my class.

I made one best friend during the journey. Danairy and I would want to sit together all the time, though our teachers insisted on assigned seating. I got moved from Danairy's side to a desk next to these two guys.

Now this is the some what interesting thing in my third grade story.

See, I was always picked on because of height, weight, etc. So I didn't really expect any guy related business until I fixed all my flaws.

To my ULTIMATE surprise, Kevin and Luis weren't like the other kids. Actually no one was in that class. Everyone was nice to me, and greeted me into the class as if one of them.

After a while of sitting in that same desk, I became close with both of them. And even acquired a friendly crush for both, even though I knew that it was Luis who I really liked.

Nothing happened, but ; even at my age at the time; I noticed that there was a chance he can like me too, but neither of is acted on our feelings, I mean...I was 9!

Too young for anything.
Hell, I didn't even know what sex was up until this year. I over-heard a conversation between these two girls and they mentioned "sex".

Sex? What's that? A game?

I was so naive and innocent. A lot of us were, but others were far more advanced.

After getting my heart repaired, learning a new phenomenon, and making a new best friend, I was ready to pass to fourth grade.

  

Oh, they're EVERYWHERE!

We see these girls (and sometimes guys) everywhere nowadays. Before it was much more easy to distinguish the good from the bad, but now they use a better camouflage.

They have internet, now. A way for them to point out every single thing wrong with you, without actually doing it to your face.

Throughout my life, unfortunately, the teasing was more direct.
Most of it came from girls, thinking they were better because they were fit, and had a great smile.
I used to feel lesser than them for most part of my childhood.

In second grade, I "fell" for this kid named Jason. Gosh, he was so damn cute. He was the Brad Pitt of our class. My best friend, had just found out about him, and her best friend was after those details.
I didn't want to tell Jessica because I already knew how her game worked. She was the backstabber, although I didn't even know the meaning of that term until later on in my life.
I tried to fight it, to not tell her, but in the end she got the best of me, and I chose to trust her.

Y'know how some people tell you that you should always learn from your mistakes?
Well, I sure as hell did.

After telling her, I don't even think that twenty minutes went by, and she had already told Jason about my conflicting crush on him. They tormented me the rest of the day. She laughed, while he made gestures as if  about to puke because the thought of me was so repugnant. I was hurt, baffled at the thought that this might be how I will be treated forever.

She's just one of the many examples of bullying that I've had. A lot of people have it worse, and in a way I'm thankful that my bullies were never as cruel to me as others from their species are to some people.

I don't speak their name in hate anymore. I actually thank them. They helped me get to where I am today and to where I'll be later in life.

Sure, it took me too long, but good things are worth waiting for. And those things that you want in life, you get if you work hard enough for them.

I understand now that they bullied me because I let them, because I didn't understand how strong I can actually be. Like everyone else out there who suffers from bullying, it takes themselves and the love of at least one person to guide them through the path to recovery and help them see that there is a world outside of bullying and they can get there.                                                

There's a such thing as heart break when you're five?

For me, heart break and love have been a part of my life since I was a fetus, I think.

I like to see myself as a BIT of a romantic.
Correction : a LOT of a romantic.
I breathe and eat romanticism.
Though, it doesn't seem to be on my side, like...ever.

We'll get to 'how romance fucked me over' later in my story. Right now, let's focus on age five.

His name was Oscar. A pretty generic name for a little Cuban boy if you ask me, but hey, I didn't like him for his name. Now that I think about it...why did I like him?
He was too short for me, had a mole on the upper left side of his jaw region, and honey colored eyes.
I remember his voice as raspy, like a guy who had been smoking his whole life. He was unusual, unlike the other toddlers who were running around in our classroom.
Of course, unusual didn't necessarily mean uncool.
It just meant different, which everyone seemed to like.

Have you ever heard that phrase that goes something like this : some people are born with the spotlight shining on them...?

Well, that was Oscar  He and his best friend John were the cutest in the class. And by cute I mean, cute enough to stop playing with our toys long enough to take a good look at them and hope that they said good-bye to us when their parents came to pick them up or shared a piece of their cookie during lunch. 

It's pretty safe to say that I never got either...not even a glance in my direction. My best friend and I, at the moment, weren't exactly the "beez neez". More like the opposite of it, "mosquito feet" or something along those lines.
Point is!
-We dressed in overalls that had mickey all over them.
-We had full, chubby red cheeks.
-We were both the two biggest girls in the class.
Just imagine an apple dressed up, and you would get the idea of how we looked.

You may ask yourself...why would Sarah have cared about those things when she was that age?
I just did. Even now I look back at so many things and wonder, what the hell was wrong with me?
Then, I remembered that it's just who I am.

After I gave up on Oscar, I left the world of boys, and entered a completely different one.

(Oh, how I wish I didn't!)

This is the one that I had been stuck in all my life.