My Own Personal Mrs. Bumbrake

So, today I went to the mall with a friend of mine. We wanted to see The Hunger Games. Well, she really wanted to see Hunger Games; I sort of wanted to see Hunger Games, but I really just wanted to get off-campus for awhile, and pretty much just spend some time with someone new. The girl in question is someone I met a few months back, but haven't gotten to spend as much time with as I would've liked (we had two classes together, but she ended up dropping or switching out of both). She is without a doubt one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of meeting, and by some miracle of God she actually talks faster than I do (see, Dad? SEE? I TOLD YOU SUCH A PERSON EXISTED), which makes for some pretty interesting conversations sometimes. All in all, she's just a generally good person to hang out with, and we both adored The Hunger Games book, so we had a pretty good time.

Now, let me explain something to you. I was homeschooled until I was fifteen years old. And I don't regret this at all; I love the fact that I was kept out of the elementary-school loop. I spent only a few days here and there in conventional schools, and I hated it. I would not be who I am today had I been put in the public school system--or even a private school--when I first started my education. I love that my mother brought me up the way she did. When I was little, my "school" consisted of trips to SeaWorld, the Detroit Zoo, art and science museums, playgrounds, even the grocery store. I learned math by learning to cook and budget money. I learned science through experimenting. I could read by the time I was four years old. Believe me--I have no regrets about being homeschooled.

But there are things that I didn't get to do, even after I went to boarding school. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm a Duggar-family child. I've been out of the country (and I don't mean Canada). I've been on dates, I've been to dances, I've been to parties. I do things without my parents. (Yes, Mishka, I really do.) It's just that I'm used to being sheltered, and being protected, things along those lines. At home, my parents looked after me; at camp, my counselors looked after me; at Interlochen, my teachers and hall counselors looked after me. I haven't been on my own very much.

And it's not just the big things like going to Italy (although that was amazing). It's things like today.

Today was the first time I went to a movie without some sort of adult supervision.

See, when most kids are sixteen or seventeen--about juniors or seniors in high school--they start going to the mall, going to movies, driving around and going shopping or going to parties or dances on their own. I got a few tastes of that when I went to Interlochen, but even then it was very careful, very supervised, very heavily monitored. We weren't allowed to drive off-campus without either written permission or a teacher. When we went to the mall on Mondays or church on Sundays, we were driven there in an Interlochen bus driven by an Interlochen driver or campus safety officer. We had dances and parties, but they were held on campus by a student activities committee...except for Semester Fiesta and MORP (our prom), but even then we were carefully supervised.

What's the upshot of all this? Until today, I'd never gone to see a movie without an adult. Either my parents, my friend's parents, or a teacher/"sponsor" (a.k.a., teacher assigned to take out small groups of students to movies, ice cream, etc.) were always with me. So today was the first time that I got to go to the movies with just me and one of my girl friends. Can you imagine that? Something that a lot of girls take for granted, and today, I got to do it for the first time. And please remember, I'm nineteen.

I have a lot of these moments. I still can't believe sometimes that I can just call someone and say, "Will you come over?" Or I'll relish the moment that I say to my roommate, "I'm going over to Lauren's room," or "I'm going over to Will's dorm," because growing up I never just ran across the street to a friend's house. I had pre-planned playdates, joint trips to the zoo and the beach, roller-skating parties with a homeschoolers' group. Never just a quick trip across the street or around the corner. Or I'll be out with someone, and when they say, "Hey, I know, let's do this after we get dinner," and my first instinct will be to call either my parents or my hall counselor to let them know I'll be late.

I repeat, I do not complain about any of this. And somehow, I don't think it makes me immature. I love that I grew up feeling protected, because I know a lot of people who didn't have that, and I see the effects it had on them, both good and bad. I don't regret being homeschooled--I'll say that over and over. I did have opportunities; my mother asked me multiple times, "Do you want to go to school?" I was the one who made the final call. Every step of the way, I was given a choice, and when I was ready to get out and go to a "proper" school, I did it. That's about all there is to it.

So, yes, maybe I am a little naive. Maybe I do still have some growing up to do. But I love that I still have those moments--those "oh-my-gosh-I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this" moments. Because, okay, maybe I do take a lot for granted. But having moments like that helps, because when I start to think about stuff that other kids take for granted, it makes me think of what I take for granted...does that make any sense? ...Well, anyway. My point is: Yes, I'm still growing up. And I love it.

"It's not impossible, you'll see--you've never been inside my head: ten billion flaming suns, and belief in a strength that can raise the dead." ~Cloud Cult

Hi Hi Hi There!

Well hello there. If you found this blog, chances are you already know me. If you don't, well, don't worry--you will soon.

My name is Avery. But you can pretty much call me anything you darn well please. I acquire nicknames the way some sorority girls acquire invitations to BYOB parties. So far, I've been Peanut, Lulubelle, Smiley Girl, Delightful Barnacle, Aves, AE, and Beatnikbelle, to name a few. Call me whatever you like, just keep it comparatively PG, please.

I have this condition that I like to call, I Stopped Giving A Damn About What People Thought Of Me A Long Time Ago. This is a very freeing state. It means that I have no issue whatsoever wearing Converse sneakers with my poodle skirt. It means that I can stand onstage in front of a group of people, including the president of my college, whip out a giant purple vibrator, and brandish it like a weapon without a hint of embarrasment. It means that I can spend an hour hanging out at a Bible study with my Christian girlfriends, then go and meet up with my anti-religion crush so we can go and hear a presentation by a gay ex-stripper. It means that I can go out at two AM and dance in the rain without caring that I look like a fool. And yes, for anyone wondering, I have done all of these things and more.

I used to have a blog called Alien Water Torture. This was my high school blog. You can go read it if you like. You may find it entertaining. I ended it because I needed to move on from high school. I'm a freshman in college and I'm having a bit of trouble with this.

So, my new friends (or old friends, as it may be), here is what you need to know about me and my silly little blog:

* Film, theater, and writing are the most important things in my life. I adore storytelling with every cell of my weird little heart. I dream of the day when I can make proper films, with real actors like Matthew Gray Gubler and Claire Danes, where I can design all the lighting (because directors do that sometimes, you know) and hire my favorite DP and get into film festivals and put my films in theaters. I want so badly to be able to take the scenes and words in my mind and put them on the screen without someone telling me, every step of the way, that my ideas are “bullshit” and that I’m a “walking cliché.” I want to tell the stories that are always battling it out in my mind, fighting to be told… “Write me first!” “No, write ME!” “No, film ME first!” “No, I’m more important, I DESERVE to be filmed first!” (Yes, this IS the way my mind works. Get used to it.)

* I can't choose one "best friend"...I have people who are so close to my heart that it is impossible for me to think of them as anything other than a brother or sister, or in some cases a "spirit twin"...I have people who are solid, dependable, and lovable, who I would trust with my life...I have people for whom I would literally do anything, including but not limited to murder, prostitution, and soul-selling...and to me, the phrase "best friend" just doesn't cover what these people mean to me. So, I may call someone a best friend, or "one of my best friends," but there really is no proper term to describe what my close friends mean to me.

* I am a hopeless romantic. In case it wasn't obvious.

* I am obsessed with the following: A Clockwork Orange, Harry Potter, Cyrano de Bergerac, John Knowles (particularly A Separate Peace and Peace Breaks Out), L.M. Montgomery, Tim Burton, Stanley Kubrick, the Joker, a lot of music you probably haven't heard of (Augustana, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Meg & Dia, Meat Loaf, Todd Rundgren, Justincase, and The Almost, to name a few), RENT, Gus Van Sant, old movies, independent movies, and Laurie Halse Anderson.

* Going off the previous bullet point, I wish to reinforce that I am really, really obsessed with A Clockwork Orange...the book as well as the movie...I will explain this later, lest you think I'm some sort of psychotic insane person...but just don't be surprised to log on and see a post written in Nadsat. I love Nadsat. I wish people actually spoke it. It's one of the most awesome things ever.

* I truly hate journalism.

* I hate smoking. But I love fake cigarettes. They make me smile.

* I love wearing lipstick. Especially red lipstick. It gives me a confidence boost. “A woman can’t do these things without her lipstick,” after all.

* Snow makes me happy. I love the smell. It DOES have a smell, you know—all fresh and clean and pure and wintry. And it tastes lovely, especially in a bowl with lemonade poured over it.

* I laugh easily, and sometimes, this is a problem.

* I cry easily. This is also a problem.

* Autumn is my favorite season.

* I hate shoes. I’m happiest when I’m barefoot.

* I love the rain, especially thundering, pouring kind that comes down in sheets and floods your street and nearly takes you out with a single drop. I will dance in the rain for hours, if left to my own devices.

* I have been in love before, but only once.

* I didn't get a proper kiss until I was nineteen.

* I wear a True Love Waits ring, not because I'm Christian (but I am...more on that later), but because I believe in true love and soul mates, and I want to wait for mine.

* I'm Episcopalian, and damn proud of it.

* I'm a photographer, and will probably post my pictures here whenever I feel like it.

* I love to write, as I mentioned, and will probably post my poetry, lyrics, and short stories here whenever I feel like it.

* I am weird. I have accepted this.

* My childhood was defined by Winnie the Pooh.

* I was homeschooled until I was fifteen, at which point I went to a public high school, then transferred to Interlochen. I'll probably go more in-depth with that later, but for right now, just know that I am currently a freshman at McDaniel College, and I freaking love it here.

* I do like to curse, perhaps a bit too much.

* I quote a lot. Just so you know.

* I am a Hufflepuff through and through. I trust too easily. I get hurt too easily. I love far, far too easily. And I accept this as part of me, and it's one of those things about myself that I think I hate, but wouldn't change for the world.

If moderation is a fault, then indifference is a crime. ~Jack Kerouac