Enough Said.

What's Cooking?

After staring intently at the stove top, I finally hear the sound I've been waiting for: water bubbling, signalling it's finally started to boil in anticipation of the rice. This recipe, for none other than Rice and Raisins, takes minimal time, effort, and ingredients. All it requires is white instant rice, evaporated milk, sugar, cinnamon, and raisins. After the water reaches a rolling boil, I dump in the rice, and cook it according to the directions on the box. I watch as it becomes a frothy cloud of foam and granules. Then, suddenly, the churning mass becomes a sponge as the rice absorbs the water and signals it is done cooking. I pour in the evaporated milk, trying to balance between enough to moisturize the rice and dissolve the sugar, and completely drowning the rice and making a soup. After the milk has been poured in, I add cinnamon and sugar to taste. I smell the aromatic cinnamon drifting upwards, making the telltale scent of this dish become more complete. Finally, I pour in raisins until satisfied that every bite will have all the components. I can feel nothing but the heat rising from the pot and the wooden handle of the spoon I'm using to stir my mixture together. One of the best things about the recipe for Rice and Raisins is that it varies from person to person. Ingredients after the rice are added to taste, rather than to fit a certain amount in a cookbook. I added all the ingredients in moderation so I could keep gradually sweetening and adding spice until I reached the ratio I desired, just as my dad does when he prepares it for me, and just as my grandma did when she prepared it for him growing up. Finally, it is finished and I pour some into a bowl. I taste an explosion of nostalgia, and remember how I will forever remember this as being something no one but my dad ever made for me, and how we would spend time together enjoying it. I taste the sweetness and the different textures, the slight bitterness of the raisins melting into the sweetness of the milk and sugar, and the spice of cinnamon. I made two cups of rice, which serves 4 people. The rest went into the fridge, and one of the best things about this dish....it's yummy whether cold or hot!

Final Reflection

This blogging exercise wasn’t something I was particularly excited for at first, especially the journal aspect. My journal is something private and important to me, and I didn’t want to share that type of writing on a platform as large as the Internet. I soon realized, however, that there was much more to be reflected on than the dark recesses of my mind and my personal life, which made me more comfortable in the journal entry blog environment. Blogging was also something new to me, as I had only ever skimmed through a few blogs I came across when surfing the web.

I feel that, overall, my blogging endeavor was a successful one. My topic ideas were split pretty evenly between my own ideas and journal prompts that stood out to me. One challenge I faced was coming up with a fresh idea every day. Some days my ideas just weren’t flowing. At first, I was uncomfortable using prompts and felt that they somehow took away from my creativity and my genuineness. I soon realized how much of an asset journal prompts proved to be when I needed a push to think of a new topic. Even with prompts, through interpretation, I could make a topic completely my own. The newness of blogging to me also proved challenging, particularly in the beginning of this journey. However, I was also challenged to have enough confidence in myself as a writer to submit a small piece of myself and my thoughts each day. I challenged myself to write more than just a bare minimum, sloppy entry. I wanted to write with eloquence and demonstrate fluency and keep not only any reader engaged, but myself engaged while writing. I tried to be creative, and more than anything, truly define myself and my voice as a writer. I want to look back on this blog one day with pride and remembrance, which also happens to be the title of my final journal entry.   

I loved how I developed as a writer through this project. I feel more comfortable taking certain, bolder approaches to writing that before seemed daunting. I liked that I was able, on the more serious topics, to strike a balance between sharing my raw self and invading my own privacy. I liked the task of creativity each time I opened my laptop to type the day’s entry, though some days I proved to be more creative than others. I hated how this was an ongoing assignment that was due each day. I would have preferred even Monday through Friday instead of the full seven days per week. It started to feel monotonous at times when I would begin writing, and like a daily chore I had to get done, but I would soon after be engaged and enjoying it once I got a topic I was passionate about and the words began to flow freely.

As a result of this project, I can now embrace my writing voice and style a little more. I wasn’t being critiqued or monitored, and it gave me more freedom to experiment and be unique. I definitely feel that my fluency has improved, as has my speed. 300 words no longer seems daunting like it once did, nor does blogging. I liked that blogging wasn’t a one-size-fits-all format, but was instead a platform for individuality. I designed my blog, and it became my own space, a space in which I became increasingly comfortable.

Remembrance-10/3/15

I am the type of person who doesn’t care too terribly much about what people think about me. There are people in my life whose opinion matters, do not get me wrong. However, when people don’t like me for no good reason, I don’t generally concern myself with it. That being said, I often wonder how people perceive me, and whether or not my existence is valued by many. From friends and family to people that barely know me, have I made an impact, a difference in their lives? If I died tomorrow, how would I be remembered, and what would I be remembered for?

Physically, I am not very memorable. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, average to slightly above average height, average weight, fair but warm skin tone, straight teeth, and the condition of either being so hot I’m cranky or so cold I’m miserable. My personality is an interesting one, I suppose. I am kind but honest, and I hold my morals to a very high personal standard. I work hard, but hold my personal life to a much larger degree of importance. I love fiercely and unconditionally, but my trust is hard to gain back when broken. I can be playful, adventurous, and fun, but I can be serious, even dismal. I like making others happy, and go out of my way to do so, but I also make selfish decisions at times.

I would like to think that I would be remembered, and I hope that I touched people’s lives during my seventeen years on this planet. I have no disillusions that I somehow bettered the world, but I can only hope I will be missed by a few. I hope that I would be remembered for making people laugh or being caring and thoughtful, rather than for my short temper and darker moments in life. This topic saddens me greatly because I cannot honestly see myself as someone who would be remembered by many for much more than existing. For those close to me, I can only say I hope they never forget me, because I could certainly never forget them.

My Typical Day-10/2/15

As my daily journal entries will soon be ending, I thought I could tell a little more about myself. “A day in the life of” of sorts. The weekends are usually spent at work, and I am at my mom’s house every other one. It is not uncommon to hang out with friends on Saturday nights. Unfortunately, with my work schedule, my weekends aren’t as interesting as I wish they were, and I definitely don’t get to catch up on sleep like I always try to.

My weekdays are jam-packed. I wake up to an annoyingly loud alarm that also simultaneously vibrates on my nightstand. It is set to go off initially at 7:05, but I generally stumble out of bed around thirty minutes later. I spend the remainder of the time getting ready until I eventually begin walking to school a little after 8:10. I go for four hours of the day, and then I get to leave since I’m enrolled in a college class. Then, unless I’m off, I go to work for four hours immediately after getting home from school and changing. After working my shift, I drive home and usually watch some TV and begin my homework and chores. When my dad arrives home, we take our dog and my neighbor’s dog for a walk around the neighborhood and then return home for dinner and TV. Afterwards, I usually retreat to my room for the remainder of the night. I finish my homework, and talk to my friends. Then, I take my nightly shower and get ready for bed.

I read my daily Bible verses and try and plan for the following day, from what my school responsibilities will be to what outfit I will wear. I admittedly usually don’t get to sleep until between midnight and 2 a.m. After I finally drift off to sleep, which sometimes takes a while and is sometimes instantaneous, I wake up the following morning and do it all again!

Money Cannot Buy Happiness?-10//15

There is a famous saying, “money can’t buy happiness.” In some ways, I wholeheartedly agree. But I asked myself-can money really never buy happiness in your life? I think it is a lot deeper than yes or no. I believe that if you fixate all your time and energy on nothing more than making as much money as possible, you will  miss out on much more important parts of life, and be miserable for it, even if not right away. I have never been rich nor poor. My father provides for us well, and we sometimes enjoy life’s “extras”, but he also makes sure to teach me the importance of living within your means. I do hope to one day be wealthy enough to have a comfortable lifestyle that allows for the house of my dreams, nice possessions like vehicles and clothing, and opportunities to do things such as travel and take time off from work. Being wealthy is a goal, and plays a large part of all the hard work and extra hours I am putting in at school and work. That being said, money has never, and will never, be the most important thing to me. It is not even a contest.

I have often thought about being “rich” one day, and in every single thought or fantasy I have, I am rich not just in money, but in happiness, faith, and people I love and that love me. I vow to never, ever wake up to find myself with a hefty bank account, but miserable and with no loved ones to be found. Strengthening relationships, both with people and with God, and finding my own form of happiness in my life is much more important to me than being in the top 1% of the wealth bracket.

In conclusion, though I sometimes don’t like it, I know that money is an essential part of living in this world. The cushion extra money provides is very comforting. Having money can definitely make things easier and can open up roads that lead to happiness. However, money is no source of happiness. Maybe one day I will be wealthy, and have a Corvette and a swimming pool, or maybe I will not. I know that money is important to me and can even act as a symbol of my accomplishments. But, it will never come in between what is really important to me, things that can’t be bought or sold.