Stories from Somewhere Else

It's been nearly a year since I posted anything. If that doesn't give you any indication of the absolute whirlwind that was my senior year in high school, I don't know what else could. I've been graduated for a total of five days now, and while I don't feel all that different yet, after my graduation party on Sunday, and after going through gifts on Monday, I had a huge epiphany... and I mean, huge. (Just a disclaimer, this is not going to be a standard post about a new chapter in life or all the things I learned in high school, because I have nothing long and profound to say other than 1) don't procrastinate and 2) make time for yourself. See? Simple.) I try to be intentional with everything that I do. I don't enjoy allowing myself to fall into the rut of just going through the motions without being attentive to what I'm doing. I'm definitely not an expert at this, but a mindfulness lesson during AP Literature class and a reading of The Practic

"Thank you for your patience, Katelynn." The dental nurse smiled at me as she finished her procedure, removing the swabs from my mouth and unhooking her plethora of tools. For about a half hour, I'd been laying back under a cultured light, orange protective glasses keeping any unwanted specks or rays from my eyes. The procedure itself wasn't painful or anything, but man did my jaw ache from staying open for so long, as tool after tool went in to place some protective sealants on my molars. I smiled at my nurse and told her it wasn't a problem at all, just glad for the work to be done. You would never think that being able to close your mouth and feel your own spit would be such a luxury! ...gross? Okay, we can move on. I felt strange, though, walking around corner after corner to exit the place. Patience? The visit itself was pretty routine, not a huge feat of bravery or strength in the slightest. All I had to do was lay down, open up, and let them work the

My eyes curiously scanned the pastel painted walls of the hospital as they swept out of my vision, and I acknowledged the nurses who waved to me with a silent nod or the best smile I could muster. My knee ached, and there was a dull throb in my mouth, even though morphine had already been pumped through my veins. The nurse pushing my wheelchair – a very chipper woman, indeed – prattled with my parents about this special part of the hospital, one meant just for patients who were zero to seventeen. My mind still fixed on the previous events of the day, I hardly listened in to her explanation. It was still hard to fathom that I’d been laying down on a slippery road only hours ago, blood dripping from my mouth and painting the snow red. I could still feel the impact of the car’s bumper slamming into my knee, still hear the choked groan that escaped my mouth when I landed on the cold ground. I inwardly shuddered. It was one thing to witness another person become hurt, but to hear your ow

"Dear Member, Cornerstone Credit Union has important, time sensitive information that must be reviewed immediately." Still drowsy at five in the morning, this was the first thing I read when I woke up this past Thursday. If this was my bank's idea of a sweet morning message that everyone dreams of, they didn't succeed. At all. I'd gone to sleep so excited for what that day had to offer. It was only a half day, after all, and my afternoon was booked with a gig for jazz band and an interview for my journalism class - two things significantly more exciting than another day at school. Sorry FHS. Even better, Original Women's Conference was kicking off that night, and I'd been looking forward to this gathering of godly women for quite some time. This Thursday was supposed to leave me happy, ministered to, and untouchable. I woke up feeling anything but. So, still frantic about what urgent information my bank had in store for me, I pushed myself out

A restless Lily trots after my heels. Surely she senses the warm air outside, the teasing breeze resembling summer, the breeze our small town can sense just as well. I give in and take her on a lead, guiding us to the sidewalks. The sun hides behind a gentle mass of clouds, blue, casting everything in a comforting azure hue. Her ears flop with each buoyant step. For a dog of seven years, her energy has aged little. As she pants and searches and sniffs, nose pressed into the budding grass, I watched. I listened. I observed. Warm weather brings a town to life. A man mounted on a motorcycle roared down the street. In his wake were a pair of boys, one black and one white. The boys were mounted on little bikes, young bony knees pedaling faster and faster, as one shouted, "Come on!" and the other, "This is so cool!" They followed the motorcycle man, watching him fill his tires, illuminated by violet lights, at the gas station. The boys rest

You know how toddlers stumble around on their chunky legs and sway when they walk, as if gravity is just begging them to tumble down? Well, I can find no better way than that to describe how the past several months of my life have been going. 1) Because I feel as if I've been plodding around aimlessly for quite some time. And 2) because I've gained twenty pounds since freshman year. Wanna talk about chunky legs? They're cute on toddlers, but that's usually where 'aww' factor ends. This isn't to say that life has handed me nothing but hardships in this dry period of time. I am very blessed with the multitude of opportunities I've been given, and the frankly comfortable lifestyle I am able to live. But more and more, the high moments just haven't been satisfying, and the low moments have been drawn out to last for days...even weeks. I find myself trudging through life. Maybe it's because I'm twenty pounds heavier. Maybe it's because I d