College.

As senior year fast approaches, so does the question haunting every student facing their final year in high school-- where do I want to go to college? If only it were that simple. When I was little, it was my parent's alma mater. Now as I get older I realize my own interests and desires, not only where I want to go but where I want to end up. As I get older I also realize the financial realities of the situation. I have two older brothers in college, who for four years now have been draining the money of the household in the name of education. As I approach college doors I notice that almost every school I'm considering is not only out of state but also about 4o grand a year. My dad has already said that financial aid is not an option for me (poor guy doesn't want me to be in debt when I graduate) but he is only willing to pay in state tuition and I have to cover the rest. My question is, how the hell am I supposed to make 28 grand in a year? So many people are telling me 'Just get scholarships!' Dude, I'm a middle class white girl with no athletic abilities and an average GPA. Scholarship options for me aren't exactly the best. Sure, if the admissions office would give me a day to convince them I'm awesome I would get a full ride (most likely...) but that doesn't really happen. My occupational choice isn't really helping my case either. Journalism, writing, anything of the kind is a dying art. As layout creator and reporter for the school paper, the thing I hear the most is "Yeah, I kind of only look at the pictures." Really?! Sometimes I don't know why I bother. I guess it's because when I write, everything starts making sense. If I can put it on paper in a somewhat elegant manner, I can find a way for it to make sense in my mind. I'm determined, and I'm in love with what I want to do. Even if it means I have to do it in state. So as my senior year approaches and everyone is telling me to shoot for the stars, I know I'm going to have to shoot for local ones because I don't really have any other options. For now...

Travel.

As the movie Up so eloquently put it, "Adventure is out there." I have a confession. As a generally pessimistic and realistic person, all my negative and plausible logics go out the door when it comes to travel. There's just something so thrilling and romantic about hopping on a plane with just your passport and a backpack, heading for the unknown. Sure, a million things could go wrong. That's my general motto for life. But when it comes to going abroad, a million things could go right too. The places, the people, and the food. I mean, come on. Italy. There's a pasta for that. France. Cheese and wine. Going to Greece? Enjoy a gyro! And as we all know, guys with British (and Italian and French) accents are just hotter. And the landmarks! Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon. You can jump on a train or the subway and check out hundreds of gorgeous views for next to nothing. Imagine waking up in a hostel (with hopefully nothing stolen-there's my pessimism) and thinking hm, where to go today? Perhaps the French countryside! Or the ruins in Greece! Maybe even a pub in Ireland for a bit! Now that is how I want to wake up every morning. I'm pretty sure the only place in Europe where they aren't nice to Americans is France, and this is because (now this may not be true, I only know what I've heard) they all have a baguette so far up their arse that they don't know how to have common courtesy. This isn't all French people I'm sure, but it's enough of them to get a world wide rude reputation. Now I realize this little escapade won't be cheap. I'm an unemployed highschool student with little hope of finding a job and getting any money. But if I have one goal in life (besides becoming a writer), it is to backpack through Europe for at least a month. I want to save up, get everything I own in travel size, and disappear for awhile, just off to have fun and see where my adventures take me. After all, what's the fun in life if you're never going anywhere?

Ice Cream.

My dad. I love him to death. But he is such a fad follower. He's always going after the newest car, the latest work out device. You name it he has it. Anyways, he recently bought an ice cream maker. You add the milk, the sugar, the flavoring- anything you want and it churns it up for you and badabing badaboom. Delicious homemade ice cream for the taking. We started with good old fashioned vanilla but then things started getting a little crazy. I have sampled multiple fruit sorbets and flavors that are not meant to be frozen in milk. Tonight I hear them discussing it at the table, flipping through an ice cream recipe book (For real? A recipe book for ice cream? Whatever happened to improv in the kitchen?). My mom's throwing things out like lemon basil and iced citrus terrine with caramel sauce. Dad, on the other hand (or por el otro lado. amazing what three years of spanish can do for you), throws out anything with coffee in the title. I'm sitting here thinking I like chocolate ice cream. I've never been one for crazy out there flavors and what-not, and my parents are over here making a gourmet dessert that no one wants to eat after the first bite. But honestly, whatever happened to KISS? Keep It Simple, Stupid.