Change

When we're young we dream of being old and big enough to do "grown-up" things, but when we're older we wish we could be young again.  Wishing we could go back to the cold old days of not having to worry, having time and imagination to do anything you want.  I really realized these changes over break while I was with all my extended family. Though there's only 8 cousins we still try to keep decade old traditions going: annual games of sardines and volleyball, chicken fights in the pool, making gingerbread houses. But most importantly the meals involving one of the better creations of this world, sauerkraut (to us kraut).  Some of these things seem weird, but for the most part I never regret doing them (until we realize that when 17 year olds are on the shoulders of 22 year olds nothing could possibly go wrong) — we usually do end up regretting flailing our arms at each other for hours.  Sure everything was easy and more care free when we were younger, but we still make memories as we age.  Better to think on what we have than the past and what used to be.  Sure these traditions will begin to disappear but there are always new traditions to be started.  Why are we afraid of that change?

Ends and Beginnings

Why is it that everything seems to come to an end? Especially breaks....  They just start, you adjust your sleep schedule to not have to wake up at 6am and then all of the sudden you're smacked in the face, waking up at 6 and rolling out of bed to walk to the freezing bus stop because you're having car troubles so you can't drive...  All you're thinking about is sleeping and you somehow doze off on your backpack. Then what feels like seconds later you're poked in the face by the person sitting next to you, "wake up, we're here."  You sigh... Crap...  You slowly stand up and swing you bag onto one shoulder, walk down the aisle of the bus, joining the streams of people leaving the buses and heading to the nearest door of the school because it's still dark and therefore freezing (yeah for Minnesota winter... It sucks).  Upon joining the halls of zombified lifeless shells of people you begin shedding layers because the school HVAC system changes room by room, shifting from freezing to boiling in a matter of feet.  You make a pit stop in the music room to drop off you instrument and stuff your coat in with it.  This is happening... Back in this place that's practically a prison... You sigh and head to join your friends in the halls for the few precious moments you have before the the bell rings.  It's really over.... Back to school.