Isabel Jenkins - I never had to choose my subject, my subject rather chose me

Fears: being stuck doing something I hate for the rest of my life, not making a mark on the world
Annoyances: the fact that I wrote this whole post two weeks ago but accidentally deleted it, obnoxious gum-chewers, homework on breaks, people scraping their teeth on spoons (IS IT THAT HARD TO JUST USE YOUR MOUTH???)
Accomplishments: good grades, concertmaster of symphonic orchestra
Confusions: politics, expectations from media and society, people who feel entitled, misconceptions about religion
Sorrows: the american education system, discontentment
Dreams: have adventures in foreign cities, take artsy pictures in foreign cities, eat foreign food in foreign cities...
Idiosyncrasies: hypersensitive to a specific set of sounds, occasional obsessive color-coordination
Risks: not (re)doing this post until now
Beloved Possessions: then - DS; now - macbook, box of sentimental feelings, violin
Problems: being decisive, focusing, time management, finishing thi

There is a trait that has been passed through my family - from grandfather, to father, to brother - indescribable by any single concrete word. I believe it to be based in sentimentality, but a kind to an extremity not found in the average human being. These select individuals can find meaning in what others would call trash...and therefore never throw anything away. Literally. Nothing. Perhaps you could call them hoarders, perhaps you could call them slobs. (Both are likely true.) Regardless, I will never even begin to comprehend why my dad so reveres a paper scrap with a single scribble made by my younger self.

Clearly, I was not the most sentimental kid. But there is a little something beneath my outwardly projected indifference. For as long as I can remember, I have had a small blue box - approximately 4x4 inches, probably from the Target dollar section - where I hide away all of my uncharacteristically nostalgic feelings. Objects I can clearly remember include award pins from elementary and middle school, collectible stamped pennies from a 6th grade trip to Chicago, stone heart given by my dad, etc. Currently I am puzzling over three beaded bracelets of unknown origin, and the "forever" of a "friends forever" necklace. It is extremely sad to note that I have a hard time remembering who possesses the other half.*

I might also have another pouch of sentimental feelings in my drawer...and a tub of random (but important!!) papers in my closet... but... we don't talk about that.

*If you come across this post, uh, don't worry. I mean, I had it down to two people but I knew it was you. Really. Yikes. (I am so sorry.)