Goodbye

So this is it. Tomorrow is my last day of classes. No more homework assignments. No more noisy classmates. Everything has reached its end. I don't know how I feel about it. I guess I'm nervous like everyone else, but I can't help but feel excited. For the first time, I'll get to study what I do love.
I'm aware that college will be harder. My parents won't pay for my school anymore. I'll have to find a job. Everyone in my class will be grown ups. I'm barely seventeen, and being surrounded by adults me feel queasy. I don't know how fast will I be able to get used to everything. But I'm looking forward to finding out.
So I guess this will be my final post. i can't promise something I know I won't do. But Mr. Pablo, be sure that I'll try to keep you updated on my life. I'll probably disappear because that is what I do the best, but I want you to know how thankful I am toward you. Thank you for your patience and your willingness to help me when I asked.
Thank you,
Leslie

Week Twenty eight

It would be fair to say that we people are hard to please, slow to find happiness, and fast to depress ourselves and lose faith; it comes in our nature, and we can’t run off of it too easily. People all over the world spend their lives weeping and regretting things that they wish they had or had not done. Dreams shattered, hearts broken or even bad luck can lead a person to think that they are worth nothing, and that anything they do will just come out wrong. So, what motivates us to get our act done?

Money is one of those few things that people actually fight for. Easy money, or well earned money are the same thing in the end.  People love it. They need it. They starve for it. Money basically runs our world. If people have money, they have power; and power means more to people than money does. We can see it on our daily life. Some people will educate themselves so their chances to find a more than decent job are greater. Others will work hard and start their own businesses, so their progress is measured according to their abilities.  Either way, people will do anything to improve their economy and change their style of life.

Another reason that motivates people is ambition. This term is often mistakenly related with power and money hunger, when it is actually defined as the desire of one person to achieve something. Mother Teresa de Calcutta is an example of this case. Her ambition to help those that were less fortunate and needed some kind of hope to come into their hearts, ruled her whole life. Her motto was “Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” And she did accomplish her

Other motivation, and perhaps the strongest, is love. Our love for someone or something, gives us enough encouragement to keep on going. An athlete´s love for his sport makes him think twice before giving up. Even after all the loss and deception, an artist passion pushes him to keep on creating. While a mother’s love tells her to be strong and brave for the sake of her children. Love is one of the most misunderstood kind of motivations, yet one of the most common and powerful ones. Love means putting up priorities and working out for them.

In conclusion, whether it is power, ambition, or love what drives us; we are on the right track if we actually have a motivation that leads our way. We all need help and it comes in all kind of forms. We are responsible to find a strong hold that secures our position in life. Life is unpredictable, but if we learn to find the bright side, it will become the greatest adventures of all. 

Week Twenty Seven

I'm feeling both panicky and anxious, which are the same if you think about it. I guess I never pictured myself graduating. I don't want to sound suicidal, but I never imagined that I would live this long. Seventeen, going to eighteen, is an age beyond my understanding
. I don't know how to be an adult; I can barely be an average teenager, that's the deal.
I just hope that I'm smart enough, and mature enough to face new challenges with my head high.

Week Twenty Six

You People have no idea how much I want school to finish. I'm panicking! There's a lot of stuff I have to do and no time to do it. I mean, we spent hours doing nothing at school, and all of the sudden there is this bunch of assignments that we have to hand in in less that a week.
Seriously, this is no life.
Hope University gets better hahaha

Week Twenty five

I read this really sappy book time ago. I don't know what got into me, but I just felt al romantic all of the sudden and decided to read a romantic novel. The disturbing part of all of this is that I actually liked it. The Statistical Probability of falling in love completely captured my heart.
 I don't know how to describe it. I just have to say that the book was great. It wasn't all tragic and boring like. It was actually fun, ironic, and sarcastic. The perfect mixture to a love wreck like me.
I highly recommend this book for those that can't believe in fairy tale romances, yet have a small hope to find their movie worthy love story.

Week Twenty Four

First of all, I have to apologize for not writing as much as expected. The truth is that I kinda lost myself and spent a bunch of time zooming out and staring at space. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is stuff that you can't control even if you want.
This time I'l do my best to write at least a whole paragraph. Wish me luck
-Leslie

Week Twenty Three

It is exams week. Yea!!! This means that now I gotta stop being lazy so I can study, pass my grades, and then go back to my lazy life. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Week Twenty Two

I just re discovered my love for T.V. Seriously, for about four years I had stopped watching T.V. because I would busy myself with homework and classes; but now that I'm living the vida sofa the world looks clearer. I love T.V. Now at least I have something to wait for. At least i don't die out of boredom on mondays, Gray's Anatomy makes stress go away.

Week Twenty one

I am feeling lazy!!! Lazy, lazy, lazy! YEAH! I'm feeling so lazy that just this once, I will end my post by lazily saying goodbye.

Week Twenty

Remember the time I said I was going crazy? Well it is official, now I'm totally lost. Man, i forgot to study for my literature test! Never ever in my short holly life I had done that! Senior year is really corrupting me.

Week Nineteen

My brain is going bunkers!!! I was THIS close to write "ninetine" instead of nineteen, just because a friend pronounces it that way. Ha! I'm losing my mind.

Week Eighteen

Ok, I was supposed to write this whole unit, but -seriously! Man, I've been working my butt so I can hand all my homework on time, work on my college and job application process, and apart from that have a social life. Yikes, who knew that growing up would be this hard.

Week Seventeen

There is this quote that has been bugging me for-what? fifteen minutes? I'm not, so sure. The truth is that it got me thinking.
It says : "Do you know what they say about hope? It breeds eternal misery."
I'm not sure how to feel about this quote. Dunno. What do you think about it?
Confusing, isn't it?
Well, that's it. See you next week, I guess.

Week Sixteen

This week I have been working on a new system. I call it the Leslie's Anger Management project. I proposed my self to be more flexible and not as obtuse as I tend to be. I have been working on my patience levels and in my positivism for life.  So far, it has worked.
I couldn't be any happier.
Now I can breath and relax. Life is way more enjoyable now.
I'll tell you my advancements in the following weeks.
Leslie.

Week Fifteen

This is the story of how my deep fear for elder people started.

 That day started as any other day in the super market. My parents along with my little sister and I were buying the groceries for the week. I have always been and oblivious child, so it wasn’t surprising when I got distracted by the toys section. I was so mesmerized by the pretty colors and silly shapes that I didn’t notice my parents leaving. I was probably eating a lollipop. I can’t remember. 

Anyway, I was standing there in front of the toys when I reached to grab what was supposed to be my parents’ basket. Something must have felt weird because I looked down at the basket’s contents-something I never did. There I found the most bizarre things a five year old had ever seen. Granola bars. Sugar free cookies. And PANTIES!!! I remember asking my “dad” why was he buying THOSE things, but when I looked up I saw the most traumatizing view ever. Two elder people, a husband and a wife, were grinning like Cheshire cats at me. I started to shake and stammer like I do whenever I am nervous. The old lady took my hand like if she had claws and asked me if I wanted them to adopt me. Doing what a wise five year old would do in this case, I ran off like a jack lope. I didn’t know where I was going or where my parents were, but I knew I had to flee before the oldies found me. Thankfully, my family was just few meters away from me.

I swear I had nightmares for a week. All involving old people turning into ferocious kid eating creatures. My parents still laugh at this story. They use it against me whenever I get lost. Thankfully my interior GPS has improved over the years.

Twelve years have passed since that fatidic day, but my fear for older people is still there. I am so scared of the day my grandparents become al wrinkly and old because I don’t know if I will be able to survive that. And what about when I grow old! I just wish the end of the world happens before THAT happens. 

Week Thirteen

This week I lack from inspiration. What I actually want to do right now is curl into a ball and hibernate. SOmetimes I wish I could be a squirrel. Squirrels are cute and smart. They gather their food during spring and then curl into a a furry mass of- hem, fur.
Wouldn't be nice to be a squirrel? I'd be free to jump from tree to tree without being afraid I would break one of my limbs. Every saturday  I would have picnics by the meadow with my squirrel friends. We would eat nuts and all kinds of squirrel-ish stuff. I would also travel all around the world without needing a Visa or a expensive airplane ticket. I would let nature take me whenever she wants.
Yeah, a squirrel's life sounds appealing to me.
-Leslie

Week Twelve

On today's class we discussed what would we change in our lives if we could live them over. It got me thinking. What would I change in my life if I had the chance? Tricky question, isn't it? I mean, most of our lives we spend bawling over all the things we wish we hadn't done, but when people ask us about those things we are speechless.
What would I change in my life?
Maybe buying that expensive horrid shirt I bought long ago. Perhaps watching that movie that gave me nightmares for most of the week. I don't know. All of the sudden I forgot the thousand things I wished I could reverse.
We people are confusing, aren't we? We can't figure out the sense in our lives. As Charlie of 'Perks of being a Wallflower' said, " ...I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be."
I guess that what Charlie was trying to say here is that while we repent of the numerous mistakes we have done in our lives, we still feel somewhat conformable with the life we have driven ourselves. We can't explain that feeling because it is contradictory. Sadness and happiness just don't mix together, right? Still, we manage to feel both of this feelings at the same time.
What would I change in my life?
I would try to be happier and less anxious.
Would I change my life?
I'm not sure. I'm still figuring that out.

See you next week,
-Leslie

Week Eleven

I'll change the thematic this week. Instead of writing about me, I'll post something written by me. It is a short silly composition I made for my writing class. It is really nothing, but I found the story kind of funny. Please, tell me if you like it. I'll really appreciate your constructive critics. So, here it goes.

Rocky life.

Being a rock can be interesting. People say that we are boring and thick because we do nothing more than sit in the same place all day. The truth is that a rock’s life can be very exhausting. During our whole time on earth we see the world change. Kids are born; trees grow and fall; the weather changes; but we stay the same.

 I am a river rock. I spend my days staring at the loud moving water. My favorite hobby is listening to the different sounds that come with the flow. The fallen branches are my favorite. They make funny noises when they crash with my fellow rock friends. They grunt indignant every time one of their tips breaks. Delicate beings those branches!   I also like looking at the fishes. They make cute noises when they speak. It sounds like a ‘Glup! Glup!’ to me, but according to Grandpa Rock it means, “Move, I don’t have breaks!”

We rocks are also good counselors. Wisdom is one of our biggest attributes. Whoever said that dummy people have rock brain, had a head full of seaweed - and believe me, seaweeds REALLY lack from intelligence. Animals all around the world seek for our advice. In my short life I have solved more than fifty marital problems between frogs. And Dude, those frogs can be very irritating folks! They complain just about anything. “He ate all the flies!”, “I need time to myself and she won’t give it to me!” If someone paid me a penny for every frog problem, I would be rich.

So, dear reader friend think twice before you complain about the rock that was inside your shoe. Imagine the trauma the poor dear experienced after smelling its interior. We rocks are not handsome, but we are great pals. If someday someone needs a good ear, find a rock; we will always be here.  

I know it seems to be written by a first grade schooler, but I'm really proud of my job here, for some unexplainable reason. 

So, did you like it? I'll be waiting for your posts

-Leslie

PD// If I find out that someone plagiarized my  idea, I will sue him. 

Week Ten

I cant' believe that vacations are almost over. I won't lie and deny that I'm currently feeling beyond depressed. I don't want to go back to school! I mean, it is not like I don't want anything to do with it, is just that I don't want to wake up early again! It feels so nice to wake up and find that you can sleep two more hours. So, please tell me, why do good things have to end so soon? It is just that I find it so annoying when all  the boring stuff takes forever to be over. Like the time I was sitting on a hard plastic chair listening to the weather man giving a two hour speech about rain and precipitation and all that weatherly stuff. The man talked so slowly that for a perturbing moment I was positive I was going to grow roots.
On the other side, there is also the time I ate my first Gelato. According to people Gelato contains more sugar than regular ice cream, which of course makes it more appealing to a sugar deprived child like me. I remember taking the first spoonful. It was like eating a piece of a rainbow. Sugary. Creamy. Heavenly. I can't remember which flavor I ate, but I do remember how fast it went down my throat. It took me like five spoonfuls and then-Poof! it was over. I licked and double-licked the paper cup, but not even a small sample of my delicious threat was left to enjoy. I felt so upset, I had to work hard on stopping myself from crying because gelato was after all not the cheapest dessert I've eaten in my life.
So this is a question I have asked my self all my life: Is there a middle? I mean, if good things go fast and bad things go slow there should be a middle stage.  For example, if people make me listen to them and their murderously boring speeches, I should be rewarded with a big yummy cup of Ice Cream, so while I'm sitting hopelessly, I can have something that keeps me sane. This way both sides win. People have their audience and I have my threat. Everyone is happy. I don't know, but I think this should be really considered as a possible new philosophy. I even named it: Leslie's Philosophy. Awesome name, huh?
So this is what crosses my mind.
I'm aware that this week's post was a bit short. But I honestly don't want you to loose your time in nonsense. I'm kind of suffering from writer's block here. Forgive me for my lack of eloquence.  I hope that by next week I will find the cure for this disease.
 Do you have any advise? Anything will be well received.
See you next week,
-Leslie

Week Nine

I’m not sure where to start. This week was kind of insane.  I spent most of my time waiting for Friday to come. You see, on Friday I finally had the chance to look at my grades. It was such an amazing relief to find out that I had not flunked biology. Man, I was jumping up and down when I saw my grade. For a moment I believed that the highest grade I could aspire for was a seventy, but no. Miraculously I got a 91! Cool, huh? Right now, I’m currently waiting for the cuticles of my right hand to grow again.  

Also, on Friday we started “Semana Santa” ’s vacations.  Dude, did I need a break. Sure, I still have to work on a pile of assessments and homework, but at least I get the chance to sleep ‘till late- well, kind of. The not so shiny side of all this is that I have to spend my lazy afternoons working at my mom’s library.

Recently, mom opened this teeny tine little place with school supplies and stuff like that. She is all excited about it. For years, I’ve heard her wishing for her own business; but with us moving to other places it was kind of hard. Now that we are finally settled, she opened her library. It is cool. I’m happy for her. There is a glint of excitement in her eyes that I hadn’t seen for years. She says that with her library she will finally be able to stay at home. The truth is that since I was young, mom hasn’t been able to stay at home most of the afternoons because of her job.   I don’t blame mom for working so hard. We are four sisters and from experience I know that girls can be REALLY expensive. What I actually regret is that my younger sisters didn’t have the chance to be with mom as much as I did when I was their age. So, even if I get annoyed by sitting all day waiting for customers to buy sheets of paper or pencils, mom’s hopeful face keeps me from groaning whenever she asks me to take care of her business.

Right now, I’m writing from the Ant’s library. There is no internet, so I will have to copy and paste what I’ve just written. Ugh, what I do for my parents; but in the end, I guess that sitting here is the least I can do for their sacrifices.

I just cross my fingers so someone else, apart from a pizza or strawberry seller can walk through the door.  I need clients; so, if someone needs something for school and want it cheap just contact me. Write a comment or something. I don’t care. Just make sure you are in the American continent; else, your bad my friend.,

Keep gorgeous.

Leslie. 

Week Seven and Eight

Well, first of all, I'm sorry if I omitted last week's post. The truth is that I kinda lost track of time while studying for exams. But that's not the point, anyway. This week I have actually something interesting to write about. So, yay! My brain is not as baffled as I thought.
I've actually mentioned two of my best friends in this blog; so, if you readers are fast thinkers, you've already figured out this week's theme. If not, then, I'll give you a hint. Which words begins with "F" and ends with
"-riends"? Yeah, you guessed it. Today's post will be about friends. Well, actually, it will be about MY friends. I'm not sure how, but I feel I owe them something more than just a hug. They deserve some kind of recognition from my part. So, here it is. Hope they read it someday.
To begin with, I want to start with whom has been my best friend since the beginning.  I met Ana Marcela when I was just four months old. Our mothers had been friends for a long time, and casually their daughters were born really close to each other. So, it is fair to say that we have been diaper friends. Mom says that the reason why we became so close was because we were disturbingly too much alike. We are both insane-that explains something. I remember how during my uncle's weeding we got so bored that we actually joined a group of Protestants that were having their reunion in the same hotel the weeding took place. We found them by mistake. We were just goofing around and being silly, until we crashed their singing by accident. So, to avoid the reproachful looks, we stayed enough to appear interested in what the priest was saying. I'm really ashamed of that experience; Yet, it was one of the best moments I had. Ana Marcela and I laughed so hard that after the priest's speech we had to run to the bathroom before an accident happened. Ana Marcela, more than a friend, she is my sister. She knows my secrets and my fears; just the way I know hers. I even changed religion for her! Well, at least for an instant. Time may break us apart, however, the years we shared will never been taken away.
Another close friend of mine was Pedro. He was my best guy friend. We met at kindergarden, so we were not older than five. During that time Pedro's father died in an accident. I don't remember exactly how we first talked to each other, but since that conversation we became inseparable. During breaks we would always play the same game: Justice League. He was Superman and I was Hawk Girl. Together we would save the world from evilness. On fridays he would either be at my house or I would be at his. We would spend long afternoons fighting against aliens and mutant frogs. When I started my business career, he was my assistant. I would sell lollipops and he would help me counting the money. When he became sad, I would be his shoulder. I've never been good at consoling people, but he never complained when my mouth wouldn't mutter a word while he cried. I guess that drove us closer. When we changed schools, we lost contact for a time. However after a long search on Facebook we have already reconnected our friendship. Pedro taught me to believe. He taught me that by using imagination we can solve anything that crosses our path.
Passely, also became one of the most important people in my life. She was the first friend I made at El Salvador. I met her on my first day in that foreign country. She was quirky and talkative-way too different of how I was at the time. We both share the same religion, so seeing each other every sunday sure helped our friendship. I guess, she is the responsible for corrupting my shy personality. While we were together, she wouldn't hold her tongue. I'm not sure how on earth she managed to have a long conversations with me, but with time both of us became human parrots. Passely and I share a kind of sadistic sense of humor. People found it kind of creepy, but we just laughed along. Sarcasm was obligatory at our conversations. There was no single day we wouldn't laugh at some cruel comment we made. Yet, Passely could be sweet. We both struggled expressing our feelings, but with each other's help we became more open to people around us. Passely opened my mind to different worlds. She helped me realize that in order to have friends, I don't have to be formal and overly educated. Honesty is what helps a friendship to flourish in the heart.
So, finally, Angel and Andrea also deserve to know how important they are for me. I don't know why, but I can't divide this two into single groups. The are not just Angel and just Andrea. They are my Angel and my Andrea.  Mom says that she is impressed of how I'm able to find people that act so much like me. Angel, Andrea, and I were the three musketeers. We could easily had been triplets. Sure we didn't look anything alike. Angel was insanely tall, Andrea was insanely short, and I was in the middle. However, if people were able to hear one of our conversations, they would believe that we were separated at birth. It was so funny how we would react so similarly at the same situations. People thought we were stark raving mad, but we would cry a river over a seven or eight. For exams we would be all paranoiac and would have our noses stuck to a bunch of notes and notebooks. Yet, we had our fun side. Weird? yeah. But we sure enjoyed it. One of the advantages of having really smart friends is that you are able to have smart conversations-or so we believed. During lunch we would hold long debates over useless things. Angel has a passion for biology and he would always come out with random comments of how bacteria is involved in our daily life. Andrea and I,as the amazing friends we are, would mock him to no end. I mean, sure knowing how to prevent getting sick for evil bacteria is important, but hearing that by eating ham we can get possessed by a brain eater worm while you are eating a sandwich is no fun.
I remember the time Angel and I fought over ice. I was utterly convinced that by the end of the world all the glaciers would had have disappeared by the art of some kind of ice eating bacteria. Angel, being the stubborn person he is, claimed that there was no such thing as an ice eating being. He gave me a lecture of how my theory had no future and I gave him a promise that once I found the bacteria I would name it in my honor so he would never forget  how he didn't believe in me. Andrea laughed so hard after my inspirational speech that she choked on her beans. After her almost deadly accident, the whole bacteria issue was forgotten and replaced by a long speech by Andrea of how the Barcelona Soccer Team would win all the cups- or tournaments, or whatever they are called.
I also remember how we got lost in the movies. Just to change our habitual routine, we decided to change of movie theater that day. It was a chaos. There was a misunderstanding with the schedule, so we had to choose the last movie we wanted to watch. Being an unpopular movie, we were sent to the last room at the end of the hall, where everything was dark and solitary. When we got to the room, it was as dark as my sister's closet. It looked like one of those creepy movies where the lights go out and people is killed one by one by some unnatural force. I started hyperventilating thinking of all the ways Freddie Kruegger could cut my little body into pieces. The only thing that kept my sane was Andrea's laughter after I tripped thrice in a row. Thank goodness I gave her the popcorn before entering the room. Angel being the only boy, used his "I'm a karate warrior, I'll kick everyone's butt" personality and guided us to our seats using his phone. I was so embarrassed when I found out that at least fifteen people had watched my nervous breakdown. Of course, Angel and Andrea will never let me forge it. Honestly, there is no need that every time we Skype they have to mention the incident.
Angel and Andrea became my older siblings. They would take care of me in every aspect. Andrea was my inner voice. She would help me calm me down every time I lost  my mind over some mindless problem. She would always remind me of my value and how she loved me for who I was. In the moments when I would feel down, her wise words would always cheer me up. Angel, on the other hand, was my protective, annoying older brother. If people brought me down, he would help me up. With his lame jokes, he would make my day. I never told them, but in my mind Angel and Andrea were superheroes. Together we were unbreakable. Together we could take over the world.
Now, with me moving back to my home country, I had to start over again. People change. I changed. For instance, many of my friends have also changed. Mom says that I tend to be aprehenssive towards new people, but I'm making some advancement. At school, I've met amazing people. Candy, Sara, Marielos, Majo, Inma, and Gaby have made my Senior year memorable.
I know that as I advance on age, I will meet new people. But all the relationships I might develop are thanks to those that offered me their friendship and helped me shape my personality. Every single person that has come to my life has left valuable experience in it.
Would I change something ? No. If what I've lived has driven me here, then, I''d have a  hell of a good life.
So, well, don't loose faith when it comes to people. Yeah, sometimes it might feel that no one cares, but in the end someone will always be there. Just open your eyes and don't miss the details. A real  friend will always be by your side. Don't let him down, if you don't want to be let down.
Take care,
Leslie.
 

Week Six

Week Five

It  feels so good to be back.
After a disturbingly long period of  time, in which I had completely stopped my habitual routine of reading, I have finally found the way to come back to my book worm self again.
As a birthday present-one of the only two I received - dad gave me the whole trilogy of the Hunger Games.
Now that I have them, it is fun to think of the way in which he agreed to get them for me.
When I told him about the plot of the story, he strongly refused to buy them because of its 'high' content of violence and evilness. However, after designing a well planned strategy, I found a way to tangle his mind. It didn't take me much convincing, if you ask me.
While on a family dinner with my grandparents, I used as my advantage his tendency to forget everything I tell him.  So, while he was happily chatting with my grandpa about Merlin- knows- what, I showed him a picture of the Hunger Games series  that I found on internet and begged him for them. I actually used the puppy eyes technique that my sisters constantly use on him. I know it was a low blow, but -hey, it worked.
He ordered the books immediately that way I would leave him alone with his own business. So, yeah, I got what I wanted.
Now, I kind of feel guilty for tricking my father into buying me the books, but-well, when you read as much as I do, your mind becomes so quick that you can't keep the brilliant ideas from flowing like water in a river.
Nevertheless, My dad says he is happy as long as I'm happy. I'm happy, so he must be too.
 The books are not that cruel, anyway. Yeah, twenty two people died on some of the must gruesome ways ever, but I'm a big girl, I can handle some action.
Moving on.
As for the reading part, it was actually hard to find the time to read peacefully. My annoyingly busy agenda kept me away from reading my beloved new books. Every time I started reading a page, something,anything,  had to cross on my way.   Either it was homework, or family, but there was always a supernatural force that pulled me away from knowing about Katniss and Peeta.
It wasn't until Wednesday that I decided to bring my book to school. Mr. Pablo will always give us 10 minutes to read whatever we want. So, I did my math. If I was still able to read as fast as I could before my reading hiatus, then I would be able to read two chapters in those ten minutes. Then, during computers, I would have a full period of forty minutes to read- that would mean another eight chapters. So, if I somehow managed to be out of my afternoon classes early and do my homework extraordinarily fast, I would be able to read some chapters before curfew.
In conclusion it took me an approximate of four hours to read 374 pages-if you don't count all the interruptions, of course.
I was actually on tears when I finished reading the first Hunger Games book. Stephen king wasn't lying when he said that "The Hunger Games is a violent, jarring speed-rap of a novel that generates nearly constant suspense"  I couldn't stop reading. I was so trapped in the plot that I completely ignored my principal while she was giving this long speech about my class being seniors and all. I didn't do it on purpose,of course. But I couldn't help it. My book was lying on top my desk, looking as appealing as ever.
Now, I'm about to start the second book "Catching Fire". According to the New York Times it is "...a sequel that improves upon the first book.". I can't wait to prove it myself.
Now, I will stop writing so I can start reading. Hopefully, by next week I will be able to tell you about the other two books. Who knows? Maybe Katniss and Peeta do come to their senses and admit their obvious love for each other.
Anyway, my counsel for this week is : Find a book and read.
Reading will always be beneficial for us. It can either provide us of great amounts of knowledge, or of much needed breaks from this world.
It doesn't matter the size of the book, as long you don't let the mutts eat your brain.

See you next week,
Leslie.

Week Four

Life is short. It goes like a dream. One day you open your eyes and you are just a kid. The next day you open them and find out that you have grown up. Where did all those years go? No one told you that time was passing. It is quite ironic to think that we spent most of our childhood dreaming of the day we would become adults;however, once we turn 18 we are crying because of the lost time.
I just turned 17 this week. People keep pestering me of how it feels to be one year near full age. I, honestly, find no difference between being seventeen or eighteen. Apart from the fact that I can be easily arrested at eighteen, there are no differences between this two ages.
Lately, I have been thinking of the reasons why I suddenly stopped wanting to grow up so desperately. However, every time I think about it, my mind always goes to the same issue: Bullying. I guess bullying is the responsible of why I changed my childhood dreams. It made me realize that growing up was more than being able to drive your own car and being a late sleeper.    
When I lived in El Salvador, I met two of the most amazing people in the world. Their names were Andrea and Angel. For some, they had nothing special. They were not popular, nor extraordinarily attractive. People looked down on them, not realizing their full potential.
Being in a new school with all kind of different people was hard. I was not accepted easily into the group. No one noticed me. Yet, Angel and Andrea did. Andrea was a straight A student. She was the teacher's favorite-reason why people tended to dislike her a bit. Angel, on the other hand, had been bullied his whole life at school. He was mocked, pushed around, and even physically assaulted by my classmates. I sometimes ask my self how was he able to survive eleven years without someone to rely on.
When I first met, Angel something clicked - it was like we were both destined to know each other. I was shy and could barely interact with people outside my family circle; Angel was not that different from me. He had grown up in a home were values and strong Christian principles were taught-just like me. This of course was considered out of place by my peers. It wasn't a great surprise when we turned into bullying targets.
People would hid our notebooks or push us in the corridors. They would nag us of how we would end up together because no one else would want to be with us. We would sit alone in the cafeteria. It was like the pest, no one would go any close to us. Why? Because people told them not to. The only reason people would talk with us was to ask for our homework so they could copy it.
I remember each time I asked my Heavenly Father why did all those bad thing happened. I mean, Angel and I tried to stand up to our principles. We weren't doing anything wrong. Yet, being a Mormon or being a gentleman was wrong for our classmates.
At school, I would put a straight face on and pretended that noting was wrong; however, every morning was a torture.  Angel was the only reason why I went to school. He had slowly changed his personal view on himself. He started realizing that he wasn't useless. Someone really cared for him. With time, his enthusiasm concerning his new discovery became contagious. I started realizing that I too wasn't useless. I had a friend, didn't I?
Gradually, we started to defend ourselves. People became nuts when it happened. They pushed us harder, but the harder they pushed the stronger we became. Soon, Andrea joined our fight. We were the three musketeers. In a way, it was like 'Us against the world'.
Now, that I'm back to my home country, I can't lie and say that I have left my bulling experience behind. There are some things I still have to come into terms with. However, life is much easier and happier now that I know of what I'm capable of doing. I have two new siblings. Without them I probably wouldn't have survived high school. But, more importantly, if it had not been because of God, nor Angel or Andrea would have been put into my life. Somehow, I know that bulling was necessary for my personal growth. God knew it, and now I know it too.
For those that are currently being bullied, don't give up. You are precious children of our Heavenly Father. He loves you and will do anything to save you. He did it with me. Don't give up on the future. It may seem dark, but there is always light at the end of the tunnel.
Smile. Don't worry. Because every little thing is gonna be alright.
-Leslie :)

Week Three

Every girl dreams for the perfect love story. We dream of someday finding 'the perfect man' with whom we will spend the rest of our lives. Even the toughest girls blush when a guy smiles at them. When it comes to love, we are weak. I can't deny it. Even though I'm one of those feminist girls that affirm that girls are smarter than most of the guys, I'm afraid to say that when it comes to love our logic and innate intelligence is outsmarted.
When we are single, we spend our free time imagining the perfect relationship.  I blame all those romantic movies that make us establish high expectative towards love. I've watched movies like Pride and Prejudice and The Notebook. I cried in every single one of them. Why did I cry? I have no idea. I guess that the whole prospect of love lasting forever made me feel kind of vulnerable. Somewhere in my heart I knew that those kind of stories never happen in real life, but I couldn't help but long for experiencing that kind of feeling.
There is a saying that alleges that girls think with the heart and not with their brain. IT IS THE MOST ABSURD SAYING EVER!. I wouldn't be surprised if a man said it. What differs girls from boys is the fact that girls actually care. Usually when a guy asks a girl is because of her outside. He finds her pretty and instantly becomes attracted to her. Farther in the relationship the guy finds that the girl is not actually his 'type' so he breaks up with her. So who was the fool one? Well, the girl because she was silly enough to actually care for this guy. Women come from Venus, Men from Mars. Girls love devotedly. Boys they-well, are boys. I'm aware that somewhere in the world there are boys that actually care for they girlfriends. If there weren't then happy families wouldn't exist. Still, I guess that the values in which love is based are slowly being lost.
Valentine's day just passed. Presents have been already exchanged. New relationships have blossomed. Some have been broken. Some were living a fairy tale. Some stayed at home and sat on a couch imagining how Valentine's day would be different if they actually had somebody.  
Every girls dreams for a fairy tale. Few get them. Every girl longs for romance. Not everyone finds it. I'm afraid that someday love will only be a myth. Will I ever get my 'movie worthy' love story? I don't know.
I believe in romance. I'm a girl after all. I just hope that one day I find someone who actually cares for me and accepts me for who I am. Flaws included.
Happy Valentine's for those that are in a relationship; and a more special Valentine's for those that are single. Don't loose faith. The most beautiful story is the one that hasn't been written. Make it yours.
-Leslie

Week Two

Have you ever have once of those suck-ish days in which you wished you had never woken up? Well, I have.  Today, for example. When I woke up at 4:30 a.m. I expected to have a long relaxing hot shower, but my plans were soon changed when I discovered that there was no hot water left. So, I had to go to my morning scripture's classes clad in my pajamas, so once I returned home I could have my shower. However, some kind of mysterious force really had something against me because both my bathroom and my parents bathroom had flooded! So, no shower for me-yuck!
 Then, running late to school, my dad totally forgot my stop so I had to run an entire block to reach school just on time. Once at school, I found out that I had left my locker keys in my bag so I had to break my padlock using a pair of scissors and faith. Then, when I thought that it couldn't be any worse, I discovered that the essay in which I had worked hours on was left forgotten on top of my desk! Thankfully my teacher was   sympathetic and gave me one more day to hand in the blasted essay. May heavens bless her.
Finally, on my way home, while walking on the street, somehow I managed to tangle with my feet and fell on my bak in the most ridiculous way someone can imagine.
Yeah, today was not a "Let's love Leslie day".
So tell me. Is this some kind of signal that Karma really hates me? If it is not, then, is there any lesson I have to learn? Maybe I should calm down and have a break. Perhaps, the universe is trying to tell me to stop being such a crying workaholic twit. I don't know. Maybe I should laugh about it. If I come to think about it, my day was kind of funny. Someday I'll tell my grandchildren about this horrid day and they will laugh so hard 'till their stomachs hurt. At least my mom laughed.
I'm not sure. I guess, I should stop being melodramatic. Who knows? Maybe my karma changes someday.
Wish me luck!
XOXO
-The girl with bad karma.

Week One

This week has been interesting. Usually, my weeks don't vary from lots of school work and lack of free time. Well, maybe, school is not the main  reason why I can't take a break. I, self voluntary,  have inflicted myself with extra work and stress-but, I guess it is for a good cause. You see, since I can remember I have been dreaming for a scholarship. Since then, I have been working nonstop so I can actually make my dreams come true.
However, this year things have changed a bit. First of all, my urge to be a book worm has stopped. I probed this theory true when I utterly refused to finish reading my literature book. I  mean, I tried really hard-I really did- but all I could get was that 1)Jules Verne was a genius, and 2) I will never get to understand a single word I read, unless I graduate from physics. Now I'm praying that the only half of the book I read was enough to pass the test. Cross your fingers for me, please.
Now, I know I kind of lost track of my initial point; and I know you may be expecting me to write about the rest of my classes and all-but, Come on!  There is plenty of time to talk about them. 36 weeks to be exact. So don't  worry. You will know more about me soon.
Love,
 -Leslie

Intro

After almost twelve years of studying, I thought that I should be already used to the whole idea of waking every morning at 5 a.m. Sadly, it still makes me want to cry every time I leave the comfort of my bed. Since I can remember, showers have been the remaining fifteen minutes of sleep that I need to be semi-conscious during most of the morning. 
I know it sounds a bit melodramatic, but-Hey! I'm a Senior. I guess, I deserve some consideration. 
However, now that I see the end of my school life reaching its unstoppable end, I have found my self with mixed feelings. Nervousness for the future, eagerness for a new life, sadness for leaving my childhood life behind-all of these feelings are guarded safely in the pit of my stomach.  
Being born in a family where girls are the majority, I can't deny I have been a bit over protected. But, now, that I think I'm old enough, and mature enough to take my own decisions, I guess I'm ready to chose the path I want my like to take over.
This is the reason why I started to write this journal-to record my last moments of school. To remember the times in which my only "responsibility" was "to study". To be sure that I don't forget the old me, before I  started my college life. 
:)
Me