Encyclopedia of Life and Experience
 

Encyclopedia of Life and Experience

Forward
From the outside looking in, my life is your typical, run-of-the-mill, suburban societal story. Welcome to Twenty First century New Hampshire! There’s a gas station on every corner, and a Dunkin Donuts directly adjacent to each. The good old granite state is a perfect place to grow up. There is a perfect ratio of outdoor play conditions, exposure to the epitome of all four seasons, and a wide range of possibilities for fun. The average suburban New Hampshire kid doesn’t learn a lot about hardship, or diversity (unless you consider the diverse weather *buh-dum-ch*). To put it simply: life is good.
This story will not be life-changing, or the least bit inspirational. I will not provide you with advice about how to conquer adversity, or how to escape an axe murderer. I am not writing a story that contains any of the following: blood, gore, miracles, magic, war, disease, romance (sorry to disappoint). I’m sure plenty of people just like me have written pieces just like this. Maybe one of their stories can change your life, which is great for you and great for them; but those people cannot tell the story I’m telling.
Had I grown up in Antarctica, I could tell you an inspiring tale of my dangerous battles against hypothermia, and angry polar bears; and give you first hand survival tips that you can’t find on Google. Sadly, I didn’t grow up in Antarctica, and never fought a polar bear. But mine is a tale of family, theory, and experience like none other.
This is my story.

A
Activism
In reviewing activism, I find it puzzling that one can devote their life to fighting one issue? No matter how much I’d love to be an activist, I think I’m far too indecisive.

Afterlife
I have a theory about afterlife. I think that perhaps when a person dies, their afterlife is what they believed it was going to be while they were alive. If a person spends their life believing they will move on to Heaven and see God then they will experience that as their afterlife. If I was convinced that when I died I would be able to travel through space and visit other solar systems, that’s what my afterlife would be. I guess you could say I developed this theory after considering all sides of a never ending argument about life after death. It’s one of those “everyone’s a winner” theories… and who doesn’t like to win?

B
Birthdays
I’ve never really had a “bad” birthday, but being the youngest sibling makes it harder to grow up. Whenever I hit a “markable age,” my mom gets all sentimental. I’m always going to be the “last” something. The last kid she has to graduate, the last kid to hit double digits, the last she’ll get to teach how to drive. Watching time fly like that must be heavy.

Biting My Nails
I was a nail biter for 14 years. I tried quitting about one million times (ballpark estimate), but nothing worked. Not polish, or rubber bands, or anything Wikihow could suggest. It wasn’t until my aunt Karen bought me a little pink nail kit in eighth grade that I grew out of the habit. Once I had a way to take care of my nails, I was determined to do so. It’s kind of funny that that’s all it took for me. If only I had known years ago!

C
Change
It’s crazy how much people change, and how fast people change. Often times I will be walking down the hallway and see someone I knew in middle school, but hardly recognize them. Within a year a person could have changed completely. Who was once an innocent do-gooder is now smoking weed and getting drunk with her friends on the weekends. I’ve noticed change in myself as well. Within the past year, my dreams have changed completely, and my group of friends is entirely different. Since sixth grade, I have made monumental changes to my appearance including a haircut, and a change of clothing style. Within such a short amount of time I feel like I have become a completely new person.

Crocs (see also; Escalator)
I have never felt cooler than I did walking into first grade with my very own pair of sea foam green crocs.  It’s a shame the trend remained in 2007.

D
Dad (see also; Definition)
My dad is everything a dad should be. He’s embarrassing at all the correct times, he’s constantly supportive, and his dad joke timing is exemplary*. Some of my happiest memories include dancing around the basement with him while he played Frank Sinatra and Tom Jones on the juke box. Moments like these define these artists. I can never be irritated or gloomy listening to them, because I was never unhappy to be dancing with my dad.
* ie) “Dad I wrote about you.”
“Why’d you write about a female sheep?”
“I actually didn’t though…”
“Don’t call me Ashley.”

Definition (see also; Dad, Identity, Joanne)
Definition is a strange idea. It is something that comes from experiences. A person is defined by a lot of things; where they live, their family, their music taste, their past, their present, their future. But my definition would be different had I grown up anywhere else. Or if I hadn’t grown up listening to the “classics.” Definition is so indefinite, and the possibilities are endless. It’s incredible to think you could have been anyone.

Disrespect
I have no respect for people who are disrespectful… Ironic isn’t it?

E
End of The World (12/21/12)
The biggest fear of mine as a kid was that the world was going to end. Throughout the entirety of 2012, I anticipated the arrival of the 21st of December, when the world would disappear into oblivion. When the day came, there was a massive storm that continued for what felt like eternity. By that time I had accepted my fate, but it wasn’t until the end of the school day when the clouds parted and revealed a rainbow painted across the sky that the feeling of suffocation subsided. My life wasn’t going to end that day, and that rainbow provided the comfort that I was so desperately seeking.

Escalator (see also; Crocs)
There was a time in a Barnes and Noble when I was ten that I just stood in front of the escalator like a statue, watching it go by because I was too terrified to step on. Prior to this, my mom had told me a story about a kid whose foot got caught in an escalator because he was wearing Crocs. The poor people behind me were so frustrated, eventually one of them picked me up and carried me up the escalator! I was a bit startled, but predominantly relieved to not have been at risk of ending up as the unfortunate kid from the story.

F
Feminism
I am a feminist. I support equality, and women's rights and all of that. Not even from a feminist standpoint, but as a person, it’s exceedingly offensive when people refer to feminists as “feminazis” and “man haters.” The first of the nicknames is just disrespectful on so many levels. I don’t even think I should have to explain it, and even if I were to, there are no words to describe the extremity of that. The second one isn’t as bad, and I understand the confusion, but most feminists don’t hate men. That isn’t what it’s about. In fact, some feminists are men. Feminism is about women and men being equal. It’s a pretty rational and non-threatening idea.

Fog
A school morning with fog is a perfect morning. It’s comforting to know the world is just as tired as am.

G
Grandpa’s House
My grandpa’s house is very distinct. It is Halloween. It is waking up to Dunkin Donuts. It is Thanksgiving and sleeping on couches and baking with Grammy. This house smells like a garden, and Yankee Candles. It tastes like burgers, and pie, and holiday dinner. It looks like floral carpets and Byer's caroler dolls. It sounds like a baseball game, or the sizzle of a burger on the stove. It feels like home.
It is home.
As a kid in this house, every room was a new kind of adventure. Exploring the cabinets of the kitchen led to a grand spice experiment whose recipe remains in the back of my mind. The den has a colossal skyscraper of photo albums, the contents of which grew more and more enchanting every time I turned the pages. The sink in the downstairs bathroom was a mountain I had to climb every time there was the need for a band-aid. The basement was a treasure chest, every new puzzle and game to be pulled from it’s depths was worth it’s weight in gold. Every square inch of that house has a different story to tell, and that’s what’s so special about it.
Lately my grandpa has been talking about selling his house. It’s a big house for someone to live in alone, and he doesn’t need the space. He has told the family that we can move into it if we want to, but we’re conflicted. My sister and I would move into that house in a heartbeat (as well as my mom), but there a factors we might not be able to work around, like the storage deficiency, the single shower, and the lack of a garage. I know he wants to sell the house, but the child inside me who grew up with this house is desperate for him to change his mind. If he moves out of the house, I won't be able to visit it (unless something possessed me to break into a random person's house). The possibility of this reality is inconceivable.

Growing Lollipops (see also; Happiness)
My second preschool (after the first one closed) was the coolest place. There was a giant playground out front, a small one out back, and a slide and monkey bar set inside! It was every five-year-old’s dream. The coolest thing we ever did, I think, was grow lollipops. One day they handed us each a Dum-Dum to snack on, and once we were finished, they brought us outside, gave us each a plastic shovel and told us to dig a hole to bury our lollipop sticks in. We left them be over the weekend, and when we came back to school on Monday, our teacher greeted us with a basket full of the lollipops we planted. I couldn’t believe it. We grew lollipops! It was one the the most innocently joyus moments of my life. Looking back I know we didn’t actually grow lollipops - they had just filled up the basket with new ones - but the excitement of making something grow is lasting. I will never forget the pure happiness I felt.

H
Happiness (see also; Growing Lollipops, Dad)
Nothing can compare to the feeling of pure happiness; the sensation of dancing among the stars. Happiness can be small, but it is always grand. It is as simple as dancing with your dad, and sleeping in late. It is as complicated as finally finishing a project, and winning first place. Happiness is someone admiring your work, taking a photo you’re proud of, writing a poem whose words go together like the hands of two spouses. It is filling out the “Hello My Name Is” tag on the first day of camp, and things working out in all the right ways. Happiness is helping other people, and knowing it made a difference. It is driving the up seacoast under the summer sun with the windows down and the music blasting. It is knowing how birds feel get when you glide on through the air on amusement park swings. It is dancing in the rain. It is conquering fear. It is accepting when you’re wrong, and acknowledging when you’re right.
Happiness is a treasure. It can be found in everything we see, so long as we look at it in the right light.

Hate
Hate is defined (by Google) as “intense or passionate dislike.” I use the word a lot, but hardly ever mean it. It’s a powerful word but is often used as something to describe a thing one simply doesn’t like. I can say, for example, that I hate green tea. I don’t think it’s very good but I do not have a “passionate dislike” for it. There are certain things I have to reserve the word for. I hate ignorance, racism, discrimination, inequality, and social injustice. A person can’t afford to throw the word around when they don’t mean it. It’s heavy and dark. If everyone keeps throwing around hate like seeds falling from trees, the word is going to grow into an irreversibly dark place. Hate is not a casual word, and we all have to stop using it as one.

Heritage
My heritage is confusing. For the longest time, I thought I was English, Scottish, Irish, Latvian, Lithuanian, Russian and Polish. Recently my dad told me he doesn’t think we are Latvian and Lithuanian, but he doesn’t know which of the two are true. He also thinks that we're German. It’s really frustrating that I might not ever know the exact specifics of my heritage. Way to go Dad! Thanks to you my entire life is a lie! Well… not really haha. And it’s not a big deal either. Just another, “go figure” moment, you know?

Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia
Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia ironically is the fear of long words.

Humor
A person’s sense of humor is telling of their character. I had a conversation with a friend recently that went a little like this:
“I don’t think anything should be off limits when it comes to making jokes,” *anonymous person* said. “If people don’t make fun of dark things then people take them too seriously.”
“Yeah… but some things aren’t okay to joke about, like the Holocaust,” I said.
“Mmm well… I think it’s okay to joke about as long as it’s not directed at someone.”
“But it’s not really, because millions of people died, and none of it was funny,” I responded, annoyance creeping up on me.
“I guess it depends on the person, but I think it’s pretty funny. Me and *other anonymous friend* literally joke about everything *insert laughter*.”
Let’s just say that if this were my first impression of the anonymous person, I would not be their friend. I won't deny that I laugh at offensive humor occasionally (because let's be honest some of it can be very funny), but I don’t like/appreciate it. If a person is only funny when they’re offensive then they were never that funny to begin with, were they? I appreciate when something can be funny without being offensive at all. When I find myself in debate of which comedy is better (which happens surprisingly often), The Office or Parks and Recreation. I always, undoubtedly am on the defense of Parks and Rec. The Office is a funny show, I can’t deny that, but almost all of the jokes are offensive. Parks and Rec is a show that is humorous without ever being offensive. In my eyes, that’s what real humor is. It shouldn’t come at the expense of others.

I
Identity, My (see also, Definition, Influence)
I am a brunette. I have short hair, and buy all of my clothes from thrift stores. I am a sister, a daughter, and a friend. I listen to “the classics,” and have no clue as to what is presently popular. I have an impressive collection vinyl record and cool socks. I participate in musical theatre, but am not a stereotype. I am a feminist. I am an LGBT ally. I am unique. I am myself.

Influence (see also; Definition, Identity)
People underestimate the amount of influence they can have on the life of another. Today, we are influenced by our parents, our friends, our teachers, and the media. Our influence is the society in which we live. Whether people are capable of breaking that influence depends on how heavily impacted they are. For instance, there was one February that I was a junior counselor at a theatre camp in Manchester. The kids were introducing themselves with a name game, and an African American girl introduced herself. During her introduction, the camper standing next to me whispers in my ear, “I don’t play with black people.” For the rest of the day, I couldn’t quite think clearly. I had never experienced racism (only ever heard stories), so the fact that it came from a six year-old child was an absolutely stupefying. I then put two and two together, and realized it isn’t her fault that she is racist. Her parents raised her that way. They have been her only influence.
I believe that we are products of our surroundings. Had I not grown up with my parents, grandparents, and music as my main influences, I would not be the person I am today. That little girl at camp was not born racist, her influences taught her those values. In the words of philosopher John Locke, “Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper void of all characters, without any ideas. How comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge? To this I answer, in one word, from EXPERIENCE,” (John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding).

J
Joanne (see also; Definition)
I consider Joanne to be a family name. It was the name of both of my grandmothers (though spelled differently), and it is the name of my dad’s long time girlfriend. The name means a lot of different things. From my mom’s mom, the name is associated with gardening, and knitting, and walks along the Newburyport boardwalk. From my dad’s mom, the name means Beanie Babies, and black cats, and playing golf in apartment penthouses. From my dad’s girlfriend, it means kindness, and constant consideration. It is a name that is engraved in my family, like a tattoo on skin. It is permanent, and lasting, never to be erased.

K
Kickball
I blame my lack of participation in gym class on a traumatizing run to home base in second grade, resulting in myself getting a kickball to the back of the head. I know flinch any time a ball is thrown my way.

Kickline
Nothing comes closer to perfection than the Rockette kickline.

L
Lemonade
For whatever reason, the only thing that makes me feel better on a brutally hot day is lemonade. The sweet (but sour) summery taste is so immensely refreshing. The downside to this is that lemonade is also a bee’s favorite drink, and bee’s just so happen to be my biggest fear.

Love
Love is one of the few things in life we have no control over. We do not choose who we love, or who loves us. That is the beauty of it. Love is one of the most natural things a human experiences. That is why it’s so frustrating when a person tries to strip it away. How can you tell someone that the way they love is wrong? What gives a person that kind of power? How is it that in certain states, the courts are able to get away with keeping certain couples from being with the person they love? Love is the most beautiful thing in the world. It is 2016, people shouldn’t have to fight for the right to love.

Lyrics
When a person likes a song, it is either because they like the music/catchiness or they like the lyrics. I listen to songs for their lyrics. In my opinion, that is what makes or breaks a song. I often find myself really enjoying a catchy song on the radio until I realize the words are dirty, or hateful. I like a song whose message is powerful. That’s all it takes to catch my interest. I don’t listen to Bob Dylan because he is a phenomenal singer (no one does). I listen to him because he has something to say.

M
Millennial
Being a millennial is like having a big sign on my back that reads “kick me.” We are a generation frowned upon for not being like those who preceded us. We are expected to follow in the footsteps of our mothers and fathers, and their mothers and fathers.
But if we try to repeat their history, there will never be a future.
We are here to cure cancer, put an end to racism and terrorism, and finally break the gender barriers. We have been training to win the battles that plague our planet ever since we were named “Generation Y.” We are fearless, and we are determined. We are Millenials, and we are ready to excel.

Mom (see also, Birthday)
My mom is the one of most important people in my life. Ever since I was young, I have lived my life to make her proud, because we had a great connection, and I was always afraid of losing it. My favorite thing to do with my mom when I was very small was “snuggle.” It made me feel very close to her. When I grew too big for that, I decided we were going to read together instead. And so we did. We read all the time; before school, after school, before bed. One thing we loved to read was the Nancy Drew series, although I honestly can’t remember what any of the books are about. It was never about the book we were reading, but the time we were spending together. Eventually, I outgrew that too. That was the end of trying to be close with her.
I never had to try though, she loved me just like any mother loves their daughter. And she shows it in all the ways I take for granted. She keeps up with my busy rehearsal schedule, driving me to Manchester three times a week, she buys me things she thinks I will like, she tells me when she’s proud of me, she pushes me to keep up with my grades. She wouldn’t do any of those things if she didn’t care as much as she does. Because of my teenage curse, I typically react to her comments with an eyeroll or a snippy retort, but someday I’ll outgrow the angst and learn to appreciate her even more.

N
Now
Seconds before writing this, I read a quote from The Incredibles. It reads, “I never look back, darling. It distracts from the now,” (Edna Mode, The Incredibles). I’m considering it my motivation to get everything done.

O
“Oldies”
In the car growing up, I was always so amused by my mom thinking my sister and I didn’t like the music she played.
“Take out your headphones and listen to some good music, okay?” She’d turn up the volume.
Being the brat I was, I’d make a show of not liking it. But secretly, the artists she’d play (David Bowie, Elton John, Billy Joel, Peter, Paul and Mary, etc.) were my favorites to hear.

P
Peace
When I was a kid, I hated peace signs like a cat hated water. They were associated with sparkles, and rhinestones, and all other tacky trends. It was like the store Justice, both had an overwhelmingly fake personality. Don’t get me wrong though, I loved the idea of peace. Peace was cool, because I’d listened to the Hair soundtrack, and my grandpa talked about the 60s sometimes. Yeah, peace was rad. The symbol was not.
My irrationally childish hatred for the universal symbol of hope ended way more recently that it should have. I was in North Conway at a shop with “drug rugs” and tapestries. Initially I was “just browsing,” but the owner of the store was a friendly old man, so how could I not buy something. I found a backpack I liked and was checking out when I looked into a small bowl next to the register and noticed a bracelet I was immediately drawn to. It was like a magnetic field was forcing me to buy this bracelet. It was a puzzling attraction. The bracelet had a peace sign on it. The ghost of my past was yelling at me, Greta you have like 50 dollars to last you a week long vacation and you’re going to spend it on a PEACE SIGN BRACELET! What are you thinking!
To be honest, I have no idea what I was thinking. For reasons beyond my knowledge, I couldn’t leave without it. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t leave it behind. It probably sounds stupid but that bracelet has changed my life… in a way. It acts as a reminder that there is a possibility of peace, and it starts with one person. When the Paris bombings happened, a lot of people began to think there was no chance of defeating terrorism. It’s hard not to think the worst when it’s right around the corner. But instead of living in fear, I decided to react by wearing this bracelet every day until the end of that year to remind me that there is more good in the world than bad.
I don’t want to say that bracelet was “enlightening” and sound cliché, but it was. I like to tell myself that buying it has made me a better person. It feels good to think that I made a purchase that has made a difference to me, and that simple objects have the power to change people. Maybe is was just a five dollar bracelet, but the effect was priceless.

Pita Bread
When I was younger I used take some buttered pita bread and lettuce, then eat it as a sandwich. What possessed me to do that, I’ll never know.

Q
Quiet
There is a fine line between quiet and silence, and each have a completely different vibe. Quiet is the sound of nature and the sound of peace. It is a condition perfect for relaxation and open mindedness. Silence, on the other hand, is an unnatural sound. It is high strung, and tense. Silence is an opposite of quiet (in certain ways), although the two are separated only by decibels.

R
Rain
I want nothing more than to dance in the rain wearing a yellow rain jacket and yellow rain boots.

S
Sister
Growing up, my sister and I never got along. To be honest I was pretty mean to her. My mom would always reprimand me saying, “You be nicer to her because someday she’s going to be your best friend.” I always denied it. We wouldn’t be those kind of sisters.
But I could not have been more wrong.
My sister is my best friend. We support each other's opinions, we laugh together when things go wrong, we talk each other through tough times, and we are always there to back each other up. There’s no one else I know I can go to 24/7, and no one else I can trust 100%. I am so glad I was wrong about her all those years, because I don’t know where I’d be without her.

Space Catdet
In my giant collection of socks, my favorite pair are the “Space Catdet Socks” They are black socks with the moon and stars on them, surrounding a cat in a rocket ship. They are so incredibly bizarre and bold, that they stand out amongst the rest. The space catdet sits there smiling out the rocket ship window, not a care in the world (or the universe). She knows what joy is.

T
Things I Grew to Like (A List)
Thrift shopping, art museums, french onion soup, reading, drawing, dramatic movies.

U
Universe
The universe is mind boggling. We live in a very small part of an infinitely large space. The possibilities of what’s out in the distance are endless, and that is completely engrossing. There could be planets trillions of miles away inhabited by life forms just like that of Earth. There could also be alternate universes that we would never know about! What if there is another me in an alternate universe? I would never know about it! It’s equal parts infuriating and enchanting. I could go on talking about the universe for all of eternity, for the possibilities are infinite.

V
Van Gogh
My sister once told me that Van Gogh would eat yellow paint because he thought it would make him happy. If that doesn’t break your heart, I don’t know what will. 

W
Wasting Time
A person can never keep track of the amount of time they waste until it all catches up to them. I’ve wasted the majority of my life so far being afraid of taking chances because of the fear of the unknown. Recently I’ve realized I will never grow until I take risks and experience new things. The more time I waste, the less I’ll be able to achieve.

X
X-Mas Box
Every Black Friday for as long as I can remember, my dad would bring up the fake tree and the boxes of ornaments from the basement, and we could commence the holiday season. While Miracle On 34th Street played on the TV, my sister and I would sit on the floor, unwrapping all our favorite ornaments and then proceed to place them strategically on the thin plastic tree. This was my favorite tradition. I don’t recall when it stopped.
Now putting up the tree is squeezed into a busy schedule like the removal of a wedding ring. Miracle On 34th Street never leaves the shelf some holiday seasons. The ornament box has been shrinking in size each year, as more and more of our favorite trinkets go missing. The diminishing traditions make the season race by like a bullet train; each year quicker than the last. Soon, it will be passing in the blink of an eye.

Y
Yearning
I long to travel, and experience different cultures. I want to explore ancient ruins, and try exotic foods, and climb through ancient temples. There is so much to see beyond the borders of our country that remain unknown to me. I crave to see the northern lights, and photograph natural art. There is music to be heard, and stories to be told. I yearn to tell those stories.
I long to have a family. To raise my own kids, and watch them grow. To let them grow into who they want to be, and support their dreams. To teach them the music I grew up listening to, and continue the traditions I love. To give them a place of comfort and family. I yearn to create a home.
I long to leave something behind. A legacy. I wish to make a difference so great that people’s lives are bettered, and the world finds some peace. I want to fix as many issues as I can, and ensure they remain resolved. I yearn to make a change.
This is my success. I yearn to see it through.

Z
Zyzzyva
With the last word of the English language, I bid you adieu.