My Train of Thought

I love trains.

I love sitting in my car, and waiting for trains to go by. I don't go driving around just to look for them, but when I find one I get really excited. I park right behind the last line on the |X| (sideways) and turn my radio all of the way up. I start to rock out to whatever song comes onto my favorite rock station (which happened to be The Wallflower's 'One Headlight'. Classic.) and all of the cars that are lined up behind me are probably wondering why my car is shaking and pulsing to the bass of my speakers.

Today I waited 45 minutes just for a single train to pass after I picked up something from my friend Mallory's house, and the whole escapade included the train stopping and backing up. A lot. I suppose that I just find something peaceful and serene about sitting there, completely parked, knowing that there is no stopping that train from blocking my way home. I take the opportunity whenever it presents itself.

Whenever I went to visit my grandma when I was little, I would always tell her to "follow the train" when we were driving in her car, (now, ironically, my car?) and she would. She would drive me to the next street over just to watch the train go by again, and repeat until I was satisfied. I was the train-chaser. I can't believe she did that for me, because I know that a lot of people hate trains with a burning passion.

I mean, sometimes I hate them, too, if I'm going somewhere and I'm running a tad late, but for the most part when I have nowhere to be, I enjoy the time while I can. To some this may be wasting time, but to me it's a complete luxury.

So the next time you come across a train and you have nowhere to go, just try it. Forget everything, and park. Turn on your radio, sing a few songs. It's the closest thing I have found to stopping time for a few more moments thus far. It's an amazing feeling.

Not Deserving of an Original Name = Alysha

At the beginning of the year, Mr. Dykstra found that the way I spell my name and the way it's supposed to be pronounced was "full of horse manure". Hearing this; it was like I had found out my entire life was a lie.

Although, my entire life, I've spent it being called abominations of names such as: Uh-lish-uh, and Alyssa. My personal favorite has to be Ashley. How do you even get that from my name, honestly?

Mr. Dykstra deemed me Bob from that day forth. I had no problem with such nickname between you and I, but then I found out that he's been naming other Alysha's the same thing. Wow, offensive much. I realize that we both happen to have the same name printed on our birth certificates, but maybe we should have different identifying nicknames. Sure, Bob is incredibly bland and tasteless, but maybe I wouldn't mind being dubbed as a Bill or Joe or something equally as generic.

Mr. Dykstra - I don't want you to think that I am trying to bash you on my blog. You are a very bright person and I very much enjoy your sense of humor. (Plus I actually learn about English from your class, which is something I've - sadly - not done since eighth grade with Mr. Wiedenheft.) But after finding out that you refer to people with other poorly spelled names as Bob, I got a little upset. (A little might be an understatement, though.) I went home and cried and refused to come out of my room because my mom called me by my real name, the one that haunts my birth certificate, reminding me of the seventh period events from every single day second semester.

It's a tragedy.

All in all, I felt the need to rant about my so-called individuality while having a little bit of fun.
P.S. - Sahan Jayawardena!

Licensed to kill...I mean drive.

Recently, two months after my sixteenth birthday, I finally picked up my license.

Yeah, I know what you might be thinking; I shouldn't be "allowed" to drive, I'm probably a reckless driver who's going to total her car before the end of the month.

All I can say is that is not true. I am a very responsible driver. All of my friends make fun of me because I'm so careful when I drive, but honestly why would I want to a) total my Mustang and b) get my license taken away? Clearly both of those choices aren't ideal, and my friends are just adrenaline junkie idiots. Which, I can attest to.

Well, last night I was cruising around with my sister - cruising is the best thing ever - and a girl from my school was trailing us. I knew exactly who it was because of her car. Now, I like her as a person, but as a driver she is just horrible! She shotgunned around us after riding my tail for a good mile or so, and another car was coming from the opposite way while she was passing me. That's the stupidest thing ever, at least make sure that the road is clear before you go 40 in a 25 order to pass me?

I think it's stupid how a lot of teenagers drive, and how a majority also text while driving? I like my freedom, but a lot of people abuse it by doing the stupidest things. Driving is a privilege, not a right.

As long as they stay away from me when I'm driving, I don't really care what they do.

The only thing is, even though there's all of these laws put in place about using technology while driving or driving reckless, a lot of these kids get away with it anyway. I just want to get my full license and not have to keep waiting to do so, so I'd rather take my time to get where I need to be instead of endangering myself and everyone else in the car. I want to be a driver that people feel safe being in the car with, and that's it.

G-O-D of the C-O-D

I have a secret for you: I'm a closet Call of Duty junkie. I haven't played obsessively since August, but I honestly played it all of the time this summer. I go to visit my pops in the summer in Pennsylvania, and my step mom bought him Call of Duty for Father's Day this year. This was not only a source of entertainment for him, but for me as well.

During the week, my dad and step mom work daily; my brother goes to daycare. That leaves me and my sister. Well, I became accustomed to CoD and soon realized why all of the male population at school enjoys this game. You just get so absorbed into it; you say a few too many swear words, and you accomplish nothing.

I worked literally all summer on improving my kill streak when I wasn't doing family activities or swimming. Call of Duty is incredibly addicting, and I will be the first to admit it. I camped like no other, and scored some major kills in my time of doing so. Yes, I camp.

But what perhaps might be the biggest upset of all is that I'm a girl. Playing CoD. There must be some unwritten rule about girls playing video games, like it's not supposed to happen or something. Most girls hate video games, and I just don't. So because of some sexist humor, I'm not entitled to play video games. That's pretty cool; not.

I grew up having a Playstation, one of the greatest video gaming consoles known to man. I loved games like Spyro and Tomb Raider. I have shifted my love to games like De Blob and Call of Duty.

I broke my 6 month streak of not playing Call of Duty on Wednesday.
It was the best day of my life.