Quarantine has been a lonely experience for everyone, but it’s crazy to see how differently certain people respond to it. I am an extrovert and I get my energy through being around other people, so to say I’ve been feeling down in the dumps would be an understatement. Only in the last couple days have I started back up in my schoolwork, and it’s quite overwhelming. The highlights of my days are Zoom sessions, whether or not I’m heavily participating. It’s just very nice to see other people’s faces and get some form of group interaction. The past two days have been spent almost entirely on schoolwork, but before I got blasted with too much to do, I filled my time with cooking/baking, music, and art. All of those are things I love, but they lose their charm when you have all the time in the world to be doing them, which is a lesson I’m grateful to be learning. In my most stressful moments of school, I would wish so badly to just have a long block of time to do whatever I pleased, and I think that having those hobbies be a break from the rest of life, instead of the only thing I have to do, is why I love them so much. It probably has something to do with the fact that I can’t be around friends, I’m sure I wouldn’t feel as annoyed if I still got to go hang out with people, but overall I’ve really grown to appreciate the idea being busy, and I long for the next time I get to feel busy again. My Floridian friend, Meg, said something along the lines of “There’s no satisfaction in binging a show when there’s nothing you’re procrastinating by doing so,” and that definitely sums up my opinion on all of my hobbies right now. My friend Abby, on the other hand, has really been thriving with this whole thing. She is pursuing a career in flute performance, and so she’s had the time she’s been wishing for for months(if not years) to practice hours a day. She’s heavily enjoyed hobbies like sewing, cooking, and other arts, and she is an introvert, so she’s not as heavily affected by not being able to be around people. Plus, she’s still been able to go on dates with her boyfriend, and all of her older siblings who had been moved out are back home for the time being, so she probably doesn’t even come close to feeling the same isolation others like myself are right now. It seems like overall, everyone has been more down in the dumps, but it’s a lot easier for some to find the silver linings than others. Abby said to me the other day over the phone, “It’s not in your character to enjoy something like this, you don’t have to force yourself to enjoy it. Maybe just work towards acceptance first and recognize that it will suck.” I don’t believe pessimism is ever the answer to a problem, but sometimes optimism is just exhausting and equally as unproductive. I can try to make the most of my time alone, but I think it’s been mentally tiring for me to try and make it the best time it can be, and that I just need to take a step back and let things be. That’s what I’ve tried to do in the past couple days, and while I haven’t tried as many new things or crafts, I’ve gotten back on schoolwork, so I’ll keep going with it and see where it takes me.

I haven’t blogged in a while, and there’s really no excuse now that we all have 24 hours of free time a day. I’ll just fill you in on what my life has been for the past couple weeks. I had a trip planned to Florida over spring break, and I did end up going, which became exponentially more controversial of a decision each passing day there. It becomes difficult to enjoy a visit back to your old family friend when the news and media is constantly reminding you that you’re a bad person for having gone anywhere but home. What made me feel better is that while I did travel in a plane, I flew from Belleville, IL to Sanford, FL. Both of those airports are relatively tiny, especially Belleville(my flight was the only one in the airport when I went and returned). Both flights had a maximum of 30 people on them, and I had a row to myself both ways, as I was traveling alone. Since I used to live in Florida, I wasn’t doing the tourist-y things. I spent half the week in the small town I used to live just spending time with my best friend and her family, and the other half of the week at a private beach house they rented on a small, private beach. It was the best case scenario for social distancing while traveling, although that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty during every moment of it. I’ve been home for 9 days now, and I still haven’t shown a single symptom, so I think I did alright. Being in Florida, despite the guilt, was a little bubble from this whole pandemic, and I almost wish that something would’ve happened to cause me to get stuck down there. Since coming back home, my mental health has taken a steady dip, and the fact that this whole thing is indefinite is not a good sign and doesn’t make it any easier. I have never been able to focus super well in my house, so my solution was always to go to the library if I needed to get a bunch of homework done, and now I have no other option than just sucking it up and trying my best at home. I’ve definitely been slacking(picked it up for creative writing, but no other class yet), and if I don’t change something about that soon, I am going to struggle through the rest of the semester. I never disliked school, but I never thought I’d miss it so much. I really hope we haven’t already seen our last day of school, but odds aren’t looking great. I just miss seeing people everyday so much- I’m definitely an extrovert in that I get energy through being around others, so this has already taken a huge toll on me. Again, though, I just need to suck it up because this is our reality for at least a month, and while most aspects of the world have stopped turning, school should remain a priority, even if I’m doing it all from home.

It’s crazy to me how a week ago, the corona virus was nothing more than a joke to most people around here, especially people my age. Now, with each new day comes another plethora of cancellations and postponed events, and it really feels like the world, the world that never sleeps, has come grinding to a halt. From pretty much every major/college sport postponing(or flat out cancelling in the case of the XFL) their season, to the most magical place on Earth open 365 days a year closing through March at least, to the numerous live shows that now air audience-free, to Coachella being postponed to October, to the travel bans being implemented left and right, to Broadway’s theaters and any touring production being closed(the list goes on and on and on), a lot of things that just feel un-cancel-able have shown us just how serious this pandemic really is. I have a flight out of Belleville to Sanford, FL in two days, and being in an airport makes me a little bit nervous. However, I think some of the things I have seen in the general public panicking have shown that certain things are blown WAY out of proportion. For instance, fist fights breaking out over the last package of toilet paper in a store? Hand sanitizer prices shooting up to 30 bucks a bottle in some areas? The reaction from some people is flat-out ridiculous to me. I also think it’s interesting how we all feel so personally impacted by it now with our favorite things being taken away from us, but it’s important to recognize the privilege that most of us aren’t worried for our lives, which is the case for a lot of higher-risk groups worldwide. That being said, I do still worry about things like prom, graduation, and our band field trip to Florida being cancelled. There obviously could never be a “good” time for a pandemic, but it sure feels unfortunate to have one right around a time where my class hits a lot of milestones in our lives. An extended spring break sounds good in theory, but I don’t want to miss out on the last couple months of my high school experience. I’m anxious to know how this whole thing will continue to unfold.

Driving has been one of my favorite freedoms/privileges to gain as a teenager. I saved up for almost a year with a job at Lion’s Choice(which I have some not-so-fun but funny stories from) and purchased my prized possession: a cream-colored 2005 Volkswagen Beetle convertible, which I named Lilo. The roof and windows need(ed) repair, so I got a great deal for her on the Facebook Marketplace, you know, the safest place to purchase a car. Fun fact about Lilo, the old owner is Dr. Hankins’s brother’s daughter, so I met his brother who looks a lot like him when I test-drove and purchased the car. As much as I love to drive, there are many things that I find aggravating while taking on the roads, although I wouldn’t consider myself an angry driver or anything. I’d never engage in any sort of argument or exchange of hand gestures with anyone else, but some things just make me curse aloud to myself. This seems to be a decent trend most anywhere, but I’ve noticed in Chesterfield especially that whatever the speed limit is, most people go at least 10 over it, except for a few select roads that are known to have cops patrolling frequently. I try to not speed, but I’ll go around 5 over occasionally, just to keep up with the general flow of traffic. When some very important person with very important places to be decides to tail me until they finally have an opportunity to pass me as fast as their 2002 Honda Civic will allow them to, I get very annoyed! Sometimes to the extent where I will actually speed up a little just to delay their passing. I also enjoy jamming out in my car, dancing and singing along to whatever comes on the radio, and I do not appreciate when people stare judgmentally at a stoplight. Sometimes I’ll just stare back and feel the connection until the light goes green and we go our separate ways forever. When I first started driving, if someone would make the same turn or two as me right behind my car, I would get very paranoid that they were following me to my destination. I’ve taken some fun detours just to “get them off my trail.” I also am thoroughly disappointed in my gas mileage, I really thought when purchasing a car as small as mine that I would only need to fill the tank once every 3 to 4 weeks, but with my regular schedule it ends up being once every 2. My car also has a lot wrong with it. I’ve got super dim headlights, and only one comes on unless I a) hit the other one repeatedly, b) have my brights on, or c) get very lucky. The only time I’ve ever been pulled over was for my headlight being out. I’ve also already had to get my taillight replaced, one of my four windows is off the track and won’t move up or down(leaving an inch-wide gap for precipitation of any sort), I had to get the radio replaced(sounds like a personal preference thing, but some short caused by it killed the battery if I left the car off for around 24 hours), the list goes on. But I wouldn’t trade my car(yet anyway), and it still has overall been a great experience having and driving it.

This is just some exciting news in a blog post! After high school, I want to pursue Computer Science as my current major of choice. Of course, I wouldn’t be surprised if this were to change, but I know that Comp Sci is something I thoroughly enjoy and am decently good at. My top colleges were University of Illinois at Urbana-Champagne, Ohio State University, and Purdue University. I got rejected from UIUC(which makes enough sense, they are a top 5 school in the nation for Comp Sci, so the same tier as most Ivy Leagues for that program), and so I’m left with OSU and Purdue as my top two picks. I am very indecisive, so a big part of my choice boils down to money. I applied for the Eminence Scholars program and the Morrill Scholars program at Ohio State, and got rejected from Eminence, BUT very recently I learned that I got a scholarship through the Morrill program! In my essay, I was asked to write about social justice, so I told them about my job at Play Differently, a daycare for children with special needs, along with having a brother with Asperger’s, and also about my leadership position in Mustangs for Mental Health. I didn’t have high hopes about getting it, I assumed they were looking for diversity in race and fighting for equal rights for minorities, but it gave me full tuition! I just wanted to share because it makes me more confident if I am to choose OSU. If you had told me at the beginning of the school year that Ohio State would’ve been my top pick, I would’ve been very surprised, but I am very excited about the possibility of attending.

Last week, I missed my creative writing and website programming classes to donate at the school’s blood drive. The school hosts two drives each year, and this was my third time donating. The first time you donate, they notify you a few weeks after the donation to let you know what blood type you are, and I learned I was O negative. O negative is the universal donor type, so even though I didn’t react the best way physically to donating, the fact that my type is in highest demand made me feel an extra duty to donate any time I could. The first time I donated, I almost passed out right at the end of the actual drawing of my blood, and they ended up having to keep me there because my hearing and vision kept going out if I tried to get up. They covered me in ice and gave me juice, all that fun jazz. The second time was promising! I made it through without any serious problems, and I went to the little snack mat area you sit at afterwards, chatting with my friend Laura who had also donated. Then, the same symptoms of losing my ability to hear and then see happened, so I laid down and went through the same ice-juice process. But it still didn’t feel as bad as the first time, and I eventually went back to class. We had been reading A Streetcar Named Desire in language arts, so I read the scene of the day on my own and began working on the study guide questions. I felt tired, but nothing worse than that, until I got to around question 3 on the study guide. I was overcome with nausea out of nowhere and convinced that I was about to vomit. I was trying my hardest to not do that, and decided to get up and go to the bathroom. I don’t actually remember what happened next, but my classmates and teacher filled me in. My senses began to go again, and I tapped the girl next to me, whispering, “Mariela, I don’t feel so good…” as I passed out onto my desk. It’s a funny parallel to Peter Parker’s “death” in Infinity War(hopefully you’ve seen that by now and I didn’t just give a major spoiler). Then I was out cold, and Mariela and the others thought I was joking, and laughed while poking me. When I didn’t respond, they realized I had actually passed out and informed Mrs. Stockwell, who called the nurse, and somehow moved me to lay on the ground. I woke back up to see the rest of my class being escorted away, which was confusing when I checked the clock and saw that class was supposed to end 15 minutes from then. The nurse came up, and even though I felt pretty alright, they wouldn’t let me walk to the nurse’s office, so I got wheeled down during passing period, which was just embarrassing more than anything. We passed by my seventh hour teacher, and I said hello and informed him that I would not be in class that day. I felt okay for real after that, and even drove myself home about two hours after the incident. This third time, I did not want to risk a repeat of the last two, so I was FULL of food and water beforehand, and all was well! They also took extra precautions during the process since I informed them I had passed out last time, which was a significant help. It was a big relief to know I can handle donating more in the future.

Everyone seems to be getting sick everywhere. The flu is raging right now, and I would really hate to catch it. Every time that I’ve ever been sick, I always deny it for no good reason. It’s not a I-know-I’m-sick-but-I-don’t-care sort of thing, more of a I-genuinely-don’t-think-I’m-sick-til-everyone-tells-me-I-need-to-go-home thing. For instance, freshman year, we were doing this fun lab in biology where we got to dissect a fish. I remember feeling totally fine at the beginning, and then coming down with one of the most painful headaches I’ve ever experienced. My head was screaming, and people told me I wasn’t looking too good. I truly believed it was just a bad headache, but soon after I began to experience chills and fatigue. Like the dummy that I am, I pushed through and even went to marching band rehearsal, which somehow ended up being indoors for the day. I could barely function during the rehearsal, but blamed my headache and swore I wasn’t sick. I went home and slept for 15 hours after that. St. Patrick’s Day of sophomore year, I had a date planned to go see the new live action Beauty and the Beast movie, which I had been so excited to see. I was hit with the same symptoms, but popped in some Tylenol and went on with my day. I wore 3 coats during the movie, genuinely believing it was just cold in the theater, and I could barely function on the way home. So far senior year, I haven’t really been sick(knock on wood), and I really appreciate not feeling like my head is twice as heavy and clogged as usual. Despite the fact that I have totally been a culprit of going out when I’m sick, it’s a huge pet peeve of mine when other people do it knowingly. Especially when they then think they have the right to complain about it. “I’ve got a 102 degree fever and I feel like crap!” “Then go HOME, Max!” None of us want any of that. People in my friend group are starting to get sick, and while I haven’t felt any symptoms, I’m getting paranoid that I’m next, so this rant felt fitting.

This is a story I alluded to briefly on the get-to-know-you quizzes we made at the beginning of the year. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year, and I had just started a relationship with this guy who I had had a massive crush on for a while. For privacy reasons, we will call him Daniel. Daniel and I were both very awkward as it was a first relationship for both of us, but I was probably a bit more afraid than he was. One of our first dates was at Ballwin Days, the carnival hosted in Vlasis Park every summer. We were driven there by my mom(neither of us were driving yet, he had just turned 16 and I was still 15) in her minivan, which is already a super romantic start. Looking back on that sort of thing now feels entirely ridiculous! Trying to enter and pursue a “real” relationship being chauffeured around and entirely dependent on our mommies and daddies for money and transport. But anyway, we were dropped off, and it was actually a lot of fun. We got frozen lemonade, rode a bunch of WAY overpriced but still fun rides, and walked around enjoying the park. One of the most well-known parts of Ballwin Days is the fireworks show at the end of each night. Daniel had excitedly told me about a spot on a hill that he and his friends always watched the fireworks from. Because I had moved there the previous summer, it was my first time at the carnival, so he was “showing me the ropes,” I guess. We sat on the hill and the glorious show began, and he put his arm around me. That’s when it hit me: this dude had fully set up the scene for a first kiss. I wish I could say that I reacted to this realization with excitement, but unfortunately, I was hit with immediate panic. I don’t remember the fireworks at all and I have no idea how long they were, because the whole time I was trying to figure out what to do. Romantically, I leaned in to him and said, “I really wanna roll down the hill.” He laughed, taking my suggestion to be nothing more than a joke. I leaned in again: “I seriously think I will roll down this hill.” He looked a little more judgmental this time around, but still chuckled and tried to give me a nice reaction to my “joke.” The big finale of the fireworks began, and I felt him turn towards me and lean in. I dove out of the way as though a car was about to hit me, and followed through on what I had been suggesting the entire time: I rolled down that hill. It was not my proudest moment, but it did get me out of that kiss, which was a little too cheesily set up for me. And somehow, Daniel still wanted to see me afterwards, so it worked out well enough for as embarrassing as it had been for both of us.

In the eighth grade, I went to middle school in Florida. They had strange required classes, none of which ever had actual importance. This year, I was taking a computer essentials class, which was just a (VERY) basic introduction to Microsoft Word. Needless to say, I worked much faster than the planned pace of the course, since Microsoft Word is something you should know how to use before you reach eighth grade, so the class became more of a study hall than anything else. During the same hour, my best friend, Megan, was a teacher aide for an environmental science and technology class, which was also just a study hall for her. She texted me and told me that her family had roasted s’mores the night before, and she brought a couple of extras to school. We came up with a whole plan where I told my teacher I needed to make up an assignment for a different class, and then I was roaming free to find Megan’s class. I don’t remember what excuse we gave her teacher for me being there, but whatever we said worked. It was the first time I had ever “ditched” a class(the quotes being there because of how ridiculously ahead I was in said class), and we were having the time of our lives. She pulled out the s’mores, and I suggested we just eat them cold, but she insisted we used the microwave conveniently located in the small office we were hanging out in. She also insisted we stick the ENTIRE s’more, cracker, chocolate, and all in the microwave. I knew the void of common sense existing with that idea, but I didn’t say anything. We went back to our shenanigans, and after about a minute, I looked over at the microwave to see the largest I have ever seen a marshmallow. We rushed over and opened the door to stop any possible marshmallow explosion, and immediately, a rush of smoke came out of the microwave. It smelled terrible. Upon closer inspection, the graham cracker had been charred black, and the chocolate was a puddle at the bottom of the container. Matters were almost made a whole lot worse when Megan grabbed a can of hairspray(which is, in fact, flammable), and almost sprayed it directly into the smoke to try and cover up the smell. This was where I finally stepped in and advocated against the idea, so at least we didn’t set the school on fire. The entire wing of the school smelled like the smoke though, so we were questioned by the teacher of Megan’s class, the principal, and others. We avoided getting into any serious trouble, but that first glorious skipped period was also my last of the year.

When I was 4 years old, my older sister, Lucy(7 years old), formed a “Pop Stealing Club.” We lived in Ohio at the time, so “pop” was the only name we knew soda by. The members of the club were my sister, myself, and my little brother, Charlie(3 years old). We were sugar addicts who were willing to go to extremes for a can of my dad’s beloved Diet Pepsi, the only soda ever kept in our house. We’d stay up really late(it was probably around 9:30 pm) a couple times a week, and would convene in the upstairs hallway, mapping out a plan to sneak past my parents watching the TV downstairs and obtain three cans of the sweet nectar. One night, we were planning this, and for whatever reason, our adrenaline was pumping and there was a sense of hesitation as we approached the staircase to start our journey. We bickered for a while about who was going to be the trailblazer of our mission, coming to an agreement that it shouldn’t be Charlie since he was the youngest, leaving my sister and I as the options. Lucy has always been a very impulsive person, and I have always been the opposite, so you’d think that she’d be the first one to go. Her impulsive qualities came out in a new way, though, and without hesitation, she shoved me with all her might down the staircase, declaring that I would be going first. Because of the way we had all been positioned at the top of the stairs, I ended up somersaulting the entire way down, smacking into the wall with a glorious thump at the bottom, which instantly blew our cover. I had a nasty welt on my head, and we didn’t even get a Diet Pepsi for my sacrifice. I guess it could’ve been much worse as far as falling down a whole staircase goes.