As an avid reader and a very busy student I know how hard it is to find the time to even start a book that you’re not forced to read. I also know that diving into a 400 page story isn’t exactly exciting to quite a few teenagers, but if you stop and think about, a book can be the best kind of therapy.

All teenagers are susceptible to that horrible disease call drama. If you’ve had a rough day then why would you get on a social network where you might find more reason to be ticked off at the person who turned your day sunny side down? Don’t carry the world upon your shoulder. Instead I say rebel against the idea that teens are lazy and illiterate. Grab a book from off your shelf, dust it off, and find a nice spot to sit for a few minutes. I’m sure you’ll find that if you let yourself be taken into that book, you’ll forget all the troubles of reality.

My days always get considerably brighter when I’m able to sit down with a good novel, which is why it occasionally frustrates me that we are assigned books for class. I understand that they are suppose to use those books to teach us about literature, but sometimes the stories are a little less than appealing. I believe that those assignments are part of the reason that students just don’t want to read.

Another big contributor in the legion against reading is a busy schedule. In between homework, sports practice, friends, and taking your dog for a walk, there’s no time to waste. Sitting down with a fourth of a pound of dead tree is not going do anything for you, right? Wrong. Statistics show that when a student reads out of school for even 15 minutes they can be exposed to more than a million words of text a year. Okay, big deal. That’s not that great. That is until you realize how much your vocabulary will expand just in reading for that short time. That’s a big deal, especially when you find out that 50 percent of American Adults are unable to read eighth grade level books. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be stuck compared to the “uneducated” half of the country.

Since you’re already reading this I say kudos to you. Maybe later in the week you can step it up and take a whack at that novel your grandma gave you last Christmas. Who knows, perhaps you’ll even find that you enjoy curling up with that stack of pages.

Bodybuilders? Workout junkies? Surely no young people take those things to get one-up on their competition.  That would just be weird.

Some do, though.  And it’s not the products in GNC that these teen athletes are taking.  It’s untested supplements and steroids, illegal things we’re used to hearing about in professional baseball and wrestling.

I read a statistic that up to 4 percent of boys and 2 percent of girls in their teen years have turned to taking these things. Some are over-the-counter vitamins and minerals that are readily available and endorsed by pros.

Why would you want to do that to yourself? The health effects have never been tested on teen bodies.  Consequences could impact the rest of your life.  Life spans are shortened in adults, so if teenagers were to take the same things, they may only live to be 30.  Who knows?

I don’t know about you, but I literally grimace at the thought of taking supplements to “bulk up” and conversely getting my voice to drop two octaves.  Not to mention the growth of facial hair.

Teens may be getting massive amount of pressure from parents and coaches, I understand that.  But if your coach is demanding that much from you, enough for you to resort to untested drugs, do they really have your best interests at heart?

And if the competition is tough enough that you have to resort to drugs to beat your opponents, maybe you should find a new sport.

My “Stang” and I, we’ve been through a lot together-dirt roads, parallel parking, and even driving over large curbs in the parking lot at Vernie’s- but never before have I been more terrified for my car’s safety than in the student parking lot.

First off, my car has no airbags. Therefore, I am not allowed to wreck. If I do wreck, I will not be given a new car. This is a rule made clear by my parents. I plan to abide by it. However, the HHS parking lot threatens my promise to abide by the rule.

The speed limit signs say 10 mph, but it’s well known that no one follows this rule. Some bigger vehicles may be able to tackle the ancient and lumpy speed bumps at a higher speed, but my car screams in protest when I have to jump it over a bump and into a pothole.

So, I’m sorry if my car sits lower to the ground and I can’t pretend I’m a Jeep mudding through the rainforest, but I’m going to have to slow it down a bit. After I slow down comes the famous pass of the vehicle behind me in a wide arc. Then, right as I’m turning and using the designated parking lot alleyways, the car comes weaving between already parked cars to cut me off and slide gently into the parking spot I was aiming for.

The next thing the driver does is glare and flip me off because it was apparently my fault that the front end of my short car almost grazed their oversized tire. There is a thing called parking lot etiquette, people.

Although the parking lot is terrifying 99.9 percent of the year, it’s just reached 100 percent terrifying with the arrival of… the potholes. There I am, minding my own business and scoping out a parking spot when out of nowhere an 8.0 magnitude earthquake hits my car. When I look back I can see that I drove through a pothole that could fit Texas in it. My poor car seems grateful to be put into park those mornings.

I guess what I’m saying is that our parking lot needs some attention. Hopefully, when the weather warms my wish will be granted. No more will the potholes, large cracks, and uneven speed bumps plague the lot. My car won’t jumble across the way and practically fall into the parking stall.

The only problem with this is a newly paved parking lot is sure to create an even higher chance of speeding. So maybe that’s the answer. Does our administration actually believe that the awful condition the parking lot is in will keep minor wrecks from happening?

In the end, I’m not really sure what would be better, just getting the lot fixed up or simply applying some common driving courtesy. All I’m worried about is keeping myself, and my car, safe from harm.

My own grandpa, who I lovingly call Papa, wasn’t supposed to make it two winters ago.  He was diagnosed with a rare cancer called amyloidosis and his time was limited. Frankly he was ready to go.  But he didn’t die.  Somehow he is in remission, has regained his strength, and is still alive.  Each day is a blessing and I have to prepare myself to lose him at any time.

My other grandfather is also in bad condition. He has both Parkinson’s disease and Alzheimer’s which are constantly decreasing his quality of life.  He is always frustrated because he can hardly hear, has a very difficult time remembering things, and has trouble performing tasks that used to come with ease.

Luckily, both of my grandmothers are in very good health, but I hear stories of how it’s sometimes the healthy one that suddenly passes on while everyone is worrying about the ailing spouse.

That brings me to a question. Is harder to lose someone you’ve watched slowly wither away or someone who dies without warning?

I’m not sure. Both are hard.

I know that I’d prefer not to have a lingering death.  It’s hard on those who sit and hold your hand.  I’m not scared to die. In fact, I’m more frightened of not being able to function without the help of a machine or being completely dependent on another person who has to give up their life to prolong mine.

That fact that we all die is not particularly comforting, but it is the nature of the world.

I believe that as long as a person can look back on their life and be happy with the manner in which they have lived out their values, they can peacefully pass on.

One thing many people can agree on is that sometimes the bonds of friendship aren’t always formed with the best intentions. Sometimes those connections are purely temporary, or made out of convenience.

Maybe your parents are friends or you attend the same church. Perhaps you have mutual friends or they happen to run in your boyfriend’s or girlfriend’s crowd. Either way, most relations aren’t always made deliberately or many times, against one or both people’s liking.

As time goes along, especially in high school, the grays of friendship turn black and white with the certainty of who your genuine friends are. There are different types of friendships that form in these developmental years: long term relationships that will last well past school and into the real world and others that will only survive until the graduation caps are tossed and you both follow separate paths.

There’s that line that gets drawn in the deep crevices of your mind. It splits and separates the “for right nows” and the “forevers” into neat little categories, maybe sometimes without you even noticing.

Granted, there are those people who happen to be just as immature mentally and socially at the conclusion of senior year as they were walking through the doors for the first time four years ago. It’s a sad thought, but many of you know the truth behind those words.

These are the people who solidify that line into massive brick wall, separating the fakes from the authentic. Those people who are still exactly the same after years of death, life’s lesson ignored, and rough patches. There are obstacles that are meant to be overcome, survived, and learned from, and yet some people fail to recognize these opportunities for growth, leaving them with a small, unsatisfying slice of integrity.

You learn so much in high school, the majority being out of the classroom and in the hallways. After years of observing and witnessing every type of interaction, it’s easy to spot the people who cut others down for sport or blatantly gossip at every turn. It’s like large blinking caution signs on their foreheads, warning of treachery and deceit.

It’s an indescribable feeling, really, but one that I know I’ve felt with undeniable certainty. Maybe it’s the combination of years spent in the same school during this time of growing up and maturing that makes the bonds and connections more apparent.

Whatever the reason may be, there are people who are meant to be in your life, the ones that will be there again and again. Those are the ones worth holding onto.

And for about a month after said birthday, you tell everyone the wrong age when they ask you how old you are.  It’s like your body’s retaliation for getting older.  “I’m gonna make you look like a fool because you’re aging” is what it’s saying.

Anyway, the 17^th anniversary of my birth is coming up in a couple weeks.  To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I feel about it.

I mean, the only advantage that I can think of is the ability to be admitted into R-rated movies.  Without sneaking in, at least.  And that doesn’t really matter because you can just rent them off of Netflix six months after they’re in theatres.

Other than that, it seems like everything worth mentioning happens at 18 or 21.  Maybe the plus side of 17 is that I’m one year closer to those auspicious goals.  I have a feeling, though, that when I’m older I’ll wish for these years back.

It seems like presents are always a problem.  I don’t ever know what to ask for and if I do, it’s completely unreasonable– like an island or a Les Paul Goldtop, for example.

I think since I’m a girl, my relatives just get me clothes and assume its fine.  But really, how many articles of clothing does one girl need?  Maybe someone should get me a bigger closet this year.

I also feel unbelievably awkward when a classmate brings up the fact that it’s your birthday and everyone sings to you.  You just have to sit there and blush and hope it ends quickly.  If only my birthday was on a Saturday this year.

Usually, birthdays pass by relatively unnoticed though.  You get an elated feeling inside but the day goes by as normal.  At least you’re happy on your special day (that’s what matters.)

All in all, I can say I’m excited to be 17.  Maybe it will give me a new sense of empowerment and maturity.  More likely, I’ll just grab a coloring book and go back to the good old days.

It’s a natural thing to be attracted to older men. Many studies show that women are attracted to men that are about 3.5 years older than them while guys are attracted to women 2 to 3 years younger.

Modern marvels like Johnny Depp, Morgan Freeman, David Bowie, Patrick Dempsey, and George Clooney make women’s hearts swoon at any age.

Personally, I prefer great musicians and writers like Andrew Bird and Jonathan Safran Foer for their refined genius and talents. They both fulfill my need for artistic inspiration and delectable eye candy.

There are fine lines to be drawn when dealing with relationships with an older gentleman. I would find it too complicated and inappropriate to be dating a man old enough to be my father. Thirteen years my senior would defiantly be the cut off. Personal issues will more than likely arise that deal with career, marriage, and life experiences. Any relationship with older men in the academic or work place should be pursued with caution.  In this day and age, there’s a new scandalous story everyday dealing with an intimate, inappropriate teacher and student relationship.

Most of the time, it is just best to chill, glance, and get in touch with your inner creeper. Older men are on this earth to be admired and respected in all areas of life. They are full of beauty and wisdom that I wish to attain every day.

As the snow blanketed across my yard and over the roof of my house, I spent my time inside rather than out playing in the cold. I took turns of working on homework, watching movies, and playing under a blanket fort with my siblings, only because I was to terrified to step outside and fall on my butt. Clumsy people like me don´t cope well with laborious amounts of ice.

Either way the rest of the student body and I returned to school safe this Thursday only to be behind in both Maroon and Gold classes, which left me in a foul mood. As most of us are aware, that can´t be good since teachers are already cramming in all that they can before the end of first semester on Dec. 18..

Although I´m slightly terrified of all the tests I will be taking next week, I don´t regret those two snow days a bit. They were enjoyable, and they gave me enough time to catch up on some homework I had been slacking on.  As much as I hate getting behind on schoolwork, I just love those snow days. The idea of something as great as Mother Nature being able to cancel something held so highly in our society as school is just plain exciting.

It´s probably a personal thing, maybe I like snow days so much because I get to roll out of bed at 9 a.m. and sit wrapped up in a blanket drinking hot cocoa and watching those big fat snowflakes drift by. Maybe it´s because I don´t have to do my hair or my makeup because I feel beautiful as is. Maybe it´s because I get to read my favorite book with my cat Cinder curled up on my lap. Snow days may mean a different thing to me, but that´s the beauty of it.

Timeout. Actually, this probably doesn’t sound like the most thrilling plan, and most of us will end up spending our break alone in our room, or out with friends. I admit, I’m guilty of it.

I know that I, for one, need to focus on spending some quality time with my family. Honestly, pretty soon, we will be out on our own and not have the chance that we do now to really cherish each moment we have with our family. Whether you’re an only child or have eight siblings, this time we have now is precious. When school starts back up in January, the second half of the school year will be just as busy if not worse. I know that my schedule does not match up with the rest of my family’s, so it’s difficult to try to find time to be together.

Also, when I’m older, I know that I want to be able to tell my kids the memories of my family when I was growing up.

So over this break, I encourage you to stop the busyness and take part of your time to enjoy these moments you have together with your family. (For the record, it doesn’t have to be holding hands and singing songs, but maybe get a game out to play, or sit and watch old home videos. Really, the possibilities are endless.)

I have never watched a movie or TV show dealing with teen life and thought that it represented my life at all. It was full of the teen clichés of wanting to be popular, getting the dream lover, or defeating the mean yet beautiful rulers of the ultimate social kingdom by simply being a good person. Hopefully, no one is so far in denial that such concepts are valued or even valued higher over serious ambitions or goals.

I don’t see the point of spending time reading badly written teen novels or watching Taylor Swift’s video blogs on YouTube. This junk culture should be limited to the extreme.

I do get a kick out of watching the legendary “Degrassi” with the company of friends but I do only think of it as entertainment, not as a guidebook to the way the world is or should be.

There isn’t any reason to take celebrity culture seriously. Media glamorizes everything that is sensual to the human spirit in order to make money.

It is a business and the more you buy into the fantasy they seem to concoct, the less you focus on bettering yourself and the world around you. Get creative and start weeding out the unnecessary ideals of the money hungry.

Their message is hidden yet simple: buy our stuff. We live in a time of 24/7 distraction and the best way to weed out pointless ideals is to recognize how much we spend our time absorbing celebrity culture instead of looking deeper into ourselves.