Blog 16- Something Difficult in My Life and How to Overcome It

Adopted. To many, it’s a dirty word. To others, it’s a blessing. To me, well, I’m not quite sure. For 15 years, I’ve been trying to figure it out. On one side, I’m in the land of dreams and possibilities. I have a home, education, friends, and a family. I can’t really complain. On the other hand, I’m foreign, non-native, an alien. I will never quite belong. This isn’t my biological family. Tell me it makes no difference, that this family loves me more, that’s why I was put in the orphanage, and this family chose me. But to me, it make all the difference. Face it. I am different. Not the unique difference everyone hopes to achieve but fundamentally different. Everyone knows that I’m not one of them. I look in the mirror and am reminded of such, everyday of my life. I’m thin and built like a rock, but very lean. My waist is small but my rib cage is huge, making my waist seem even smaller. Everyday I go through life and someone comments on my size. About how I’m anorexic, or bulimic. Trust me, I’m not. I eat until there is no more food left, then I search for more. My face is long and small, my features are plain, except my nose and scar. Both are lopsided and stand out, a reminder of my cleft palate and lip. My eyes are however striking, if I dare say so. They are registered blue but depending on the lighting and the day the can go from a beautiful full out gray to a stunning deep blue color. My eyes are the only thing I can say are beautiful on me. I tan so easily and dark, naturally. It’s just my heritage- my body type and my ability to tan. Yet, somehow everyone manages to bring me down because of it. I have what they want and cannot achieve, therefore they ridicule and taunt. They make me feel exiled more than I am. I already know I will never fit in, I do not need the rest of the world to tell me everyday as well.

How to overcome it: I won’t. Ever. Even if the world ceases the bantering, I will never be one of them. If I go back, I am not them. No matter where I go, I will never fit in. That is the difficult part, accepting I will never fit in. No I lied. I accept that, but finding out where to go and how to fit in is the difficult. I am trying to complete an impossible task, and I feel I shall never succeed. How could I? I am set up to fail on the most basic principle of life.

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Blog 15- A Day in My Life

Although this depends on the time of year I shall give you a snapshot of what happened today. Today may not be typical of most days, but as of lately, this is my life. I woke up about 6:30, panicked as always, that I missed my alarm for school. I did not miss it as I am not attending school due to summer. I roll over and try to fall back asleep. I can’t. I lie in bed thinking about different topics until 8:30. Most of my thinking occurs in the morning after waking up before my alarm.  By 8:45 I’m in the shower and by 9 I’m dressed for work. I had an early shift so I was running behind. I got in my car and drove off to work. On my way, I stopped at TOPS to pick up a protien shake and a Clif Bar to eat for breakfast. I got to work and sat in my car enjoying my sad little breakfast. I had already brushed my teeth prior to leaving, so I enjoyed a mint and a Listerine breath strip to kill my breath. I clocked in around 10:15 and walked to the ‘Hut.’ My day officially begins around 10:45. I take out equipment, get ready go through the meeting and get on stand. At 11 all hell breaks loose as they open the gates to the public. I’m a lifeguard.
At 12 I get a 30 minute break and when I get back on stand we rotate until I am at the position before break. Come to find out, 10 people called in, therefore we get frozen in place. I don’t get a break until 5 pm and it’s a 5 minute bathroom break. All of the bathrooms have a line acrossed the way, meaning that it would be about 30 minutes before I got to use one. So I go back on stand, hungry and still having to go. Two hours later we finally close for the night, and I get audited. For seven hours I was stuck in a roaming circling position watching the water. As in circling in an area smaller then a pizza for seven hours making a complete circle of a huge area in less than ten seconds, and then repeating it, over and over, for seven hours, minus the 5 min break.
Today I got out early. My hip was so sore,  my feet are burnt and blistered on the hot concrete that when I get home I’m limping so badly that both of my legs are beyond lame. I go to bed early around ten, and then spend two hours pondering life. This is about the typical day for me as a life guard, although I started late and ended early today.
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Blog 14- Ten Things That Make Me Smile



Black Labs



My Music




Living Life to the Max

These are not in any particular order, but they all do make me happy. Also, as a bonus,

Chocolate and Ice Cream

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What Did You Say Your Name Was?

Alright. My name is Lara. So I was curious where I got that name from.

Pronounced LAR-ah. 

It is of Latin origin, and the meaning of Lara is “protection”. From “Lares”, referring to the individual gods of Roman households, the protectors of home and fields. Also possibly (Latin) “cheerful; famous”. It may also be traced to the Greek Larissa. Lara is popular in Russia as a surname and place name. Literary: name of a central character in Boris Pasternak’s novel “Doctor Zhivago”.

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Blog 13- A Public Apology

Alright, fine. I ‘ll admit I’m totally guilty of this and I realize I am sorry, though I don’t regret it. I am that person. There I said it. You know, that person. The one who loves hand written letters. Here we are in this age of technology, the same technology that is allowing me to share this with you, and I miss the old school version.

My friend and I used to write letters every few days in the summer to keep in touch. Mostly they were full of nonsense, but they were written, shockingly, by hand. I know it’s scandalizing, but I have to tell you. I promise it hurts me more than it hurts you. With this new fancy email and texting, we stay in touch, but the closest thing I’ve gotten to a handwritten letter would be a card with her name in it. I know it’s shamefull, but I can hide it no longer. The dirty truth- I want a handwritten letter to come in the mail. Well, that’s all folks.

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Blog 12- What I Miss

I miss a lot of things. Friends that move away, handwritten letters, and periods of my life.

What I miss the most is a memory of a day and the way it made me feel.

It was a time, before we had gone our separate ways, that a friend of mine shared with me. We ended up losing touch, but that was one of my favorite times. Of my friends, he was the one I could connect to. I wasn’t the girly girl at everything; helpless, play with dolls and make up kind of girls that was afraid of mud. I was the girl that camped, that fished, that shot a gun, had a dead aim with a bow. And he was the guy that could be friends with that kind of girl. We kept in touch and wrote letters every few days in the summer.

We ended up losing touch after he got a girlfriend. We were so close and I almost felt awkward and gave him space after his girlfriend got upset that we were so close. I didn’t want him to lose her on account of me, he seemed so happy to be with her. I regret it now, though given the chance I’d do it all the same. It broke my heart in a way to lose him, I mean, I gave up my best friend. It’s him, our friendship, and that time of my life that I’ll miss the most I think.

Anyways, I could write a book about him and such forth, but I’ll keep it to my favorite memory of us. It was summer, maybe early fall. But the weather was beautiful. We went out to my pond and went fishing. For hours we fished, never catching too much. We talked about things, and life, and never stopped our endless conversation unless we caught a fish, then we’d pick right back up.

Well, we decided to finally take the paddle boat out and try to fish in the middle of it to see if we could catch bigger fish. So we took it out and sat there in the silence. The pond was as smooth as glass, the wind rustled the trees lightly, and you could hear the woods and pond come to  life. The fish lept out of the water while the birds dove in. The sun was warm and for the first time I had actually felt happy. Like that solemn happiness that people get when they climb a mountain or get up and watch a dawn. That peace in your soul, this is what life is about moments. We never talked about it, and I will never know if he felt like that too, but I know I’ll never forget that feeling. I’ve climbed mountains, I’ve watched dawns break, but it’s not the same.

It’s that moment, the peaceful solitude next to him, that entire day really, that I miss, but I will never forget.

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A Standing Ovation

So I was showing my dogs in the New York State Fair Wednesday and Thursday. Among the other events, I was part of the Wyoming County Drill Team. Actually, this was our first appearance at the fair. So a Drill Team has eight men that show dogs in a routine that is set to music and tells a story.

Anyways, we made ours into a salute to the military. So the introduction was short and to the point, and it made the announcer choke up and the crowd cheer. We hadn’t even begun. Anyways, we each wore a uniform of a man who had served, or was serving, one from each branch. I was the navy with an old style black navy uniform. (we wore black pants, a uniform, and the corresponding hat) Five of us also held a flag of each branch. I held the Marine flag. (No, not the navy because the others are blue and white, and I was the captain and lead, and the only flag until the last four people. So we figured it was best to put the red flag in front.) Regardless, our banner and the American Flag went out first, then we emerged for the gate. When I walked out on my own, the crowd roared. Then the rest of us came out and wove military style, and then we marched off to our places. We did more of our routine, and every time, we finished a part, the crowd clapped. At one point, we circle around the flag, place our flags into the ground, and salute. (We held the salute for about thirty seconds). At that moment, though we were not allowed to smile, or look around, you could tell out of the corner of your eye, the crowd had stood up with up and gave us a standing ovation. and we were only half done. It was so hard not to break the solemn faces we were to hold. When we finished, the crowd gave us another standing ovation.

As we passed through the crowd on our way back, we got hundreds of congratulations from crying, yes crying, spectators. That felt amazing. That was the first time we had actually finished on time and had done it nearly perfectly. And the crowd gave us two standing ovations and was choked up and crying. (The fault was in the beginning in the weave due to a person who hadn’t been able to come to practice, ever.) Anyways, the most amazing part was when my golden retriever and I were walking back, a currently serving army uniform came up to me choked up and shook my hand and said that all who serve thank you. I almost died of pride. I walked my dog out to treat him, and I was confronted by a Vietnam veteran who was crying. He congratulated me and saluted me quickly before walking off. I was with another member of the tam and we probably died of pride of accomplishment. That was the most amazing thing. We had made grown men, uniforms, cry. That was priceless.

In the end, we were reserve champions due to some minor faults, and the crowd almost went up in a frenzy that the Wizard of Oz team had took Grand. But the faces of the two uniforms beat the reserve and whatever the crowd thought a million times over. That will never happen again. So that was my Drill team, and as a reminder, we did this all with dogs in one hand, and flags in the other.

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