I long to live in a different decade. Walk into a diner decorated with bright colors, sit at a bar with round, backless stools, and order a milkshake in an overly tall glass that widens as it reaches the brim. Sit in a room, glued to my bed as I talk about what to wear that weekend with a phone line stretched across my bed, and the latest music rolling out of a cassette player. Wear a bright pink Juicy Couture set in public all the time, even though I think it would probably be the most unflattering clothing item on me. It doesn’t matter what time, but there are so many experiences lost in the evolution of technology and trends that are lost with prior significance. They are gone except for a few people, like myself, who have the urge to still experience it.
What makes the colors in the sky? I actually do know the answer; the atmosphere and the reflection of the sun or something like that. But, I like to hold the colors to a deeper meaning. I view it as a purpose. At sunset, each streak of color that paints the sky is destined to be there, painted by the ray that touch the spot for whoever is viewing it at that time. It only stays for a moment before giving the next colors their chance to be seen. They can sometimes be similar to each other, but still completely different in so many hidden ways. I can never be bored watching the sky shift and switch with the movement of the world.
“I’m proud of you.” Four words can mean the world to me. A little girl runs across the gym, showing her classmates that she is athletic in some way beyond dance. She isn’t the last one standing but makes it far enough in the pacer test that she feels accomplished. That same little girl has an older girl at dance help her every practice to get her middle splits down because she is the only one without them. Every day she feels slight improvement, never fully reaching a 180-degree angle, but close enough that it passes for one according to the teacher. That girl not being able to keep all of her dolls and toys neat in her room. She sits for hours trying to put them all neatly organized around her room, only to walk out with one square foot of her floor clear of things while wearing five necklaces, one oversized heel, one slipper, a hand-me-down top, a scarf, a slap bracelet, a chunky dolphin bracelet, a crown on top of a hat, a tutu, and the most outrageous pair of sunglasses that was bought at a cheap souvenir shop in Orlando, all acquainted in the hours of ‘cleaning’. All she wants, and all I want, is someone to recognize her accomplishments, even if she isn’t the fastest, most flexible, most focused cleaner in the world. Every action is a step for herself. All we need is someone to be proud of us.
Even numbers are cool colors. Odd numbers are warm colors. Any number that is even or a multiple of five is a good number to have the volume adjusted to, but any number that ends in one, three, seven, or nine is an automatic no. January is blue and even. December is blue, red, green, silver, and gold, and I can’t quite decide whether it’s odd or even.
Your handwriting shows who you are—except it doesn’t at all. I’ve known the cleanest, most responsible, smart girls who have awful handwriting. But for some reason, I always associate cute, neat, average-sized handwriting with those traits. Even though it doesn’t matter at all. My handwriting is always shifting and changing. One day I’m making loops in my G’s, J’s, and Y’s, but the next they return to normal lines and hooks. I have changed how I do my A’s many times, and sometimes I experiment with doing hearts instead of dots on my I’s and J’s. Some days I write small, but some days a few words take up a whole line. Some days I write insanely neat and the next day it’s illegible. All I know, even though I feel bad for thinking it, is even if they do have good handwriting, I will always believe that a boy’s handwriting is not good.
What are the things that make me happy to have? A fun drink, whether that is Starbucks, an Alani, or really anything beyond water. Fake nails, usually in the colors pink, blue, or white, especially when I can hear them tap against my phone or any hard surface. Gold jewelry, but specifically gold hoop earrings. My wave ring, which I recently lost again after buying it when I lost it the first time; when I know where it is I wear it all day, every day. Sunglasses, even when it is cloudy, dark, or I am inside. Cute shoes and cute outfits. My blue eyes, and luckily I have those all the time. Anything with a bow on it or just a bow in general. That is an easy one because my phone case has a bow pattern on it. Flowers, because oh my goodness, I love them; I will do anything to have flowers, even if it means walking through leaves and weeds to pick one that is truly a weed itself. There are probably many other things as well, but I hope you enjoyed my list of the things I am happy to have.
