sorry i haven't posted in a long time!!

hi everyone!
I am so sorry that i haven't posted in a really really long time, but today i will post. I have been working on this story...and if anybody actually reads this blog, please comment and tell me what you think!


Most people think that being smart is a gift, a blessing. they think that being one of those people who can understand a math problem just by looking at it, is the easiest thing in the world. The problem with that theory, is that it’s not. A lot of times, the smart people are the ones who get called names. They’re the ones who get bullied, and they’re the ones who have the toughest times at school. And often, they are the ones who get hurt the most. I was 7 when i figured that out. At the time, i felt like the last person at the finish line of a long race. I felt like the slow person, who was so stupid that it took them twelve whole years to understand that being a geek was not a good thing. Some girls in my class had understood that being smart was bad the very first day they set their kindergarten feet across the threshold of the brightly colored green door in our little town. They understood that some girls, the ones with platinum blonde hair, and aryan blue eyes, are the ones who start out with the boys. they’re the ones who can get people to agree with them, just by the looks of them. A lot of girls realize this when they’re 4 years old. There are things that they don’t realize, though. a lot of girls don’t realize, that the moment isn’t the whole world. They don’t realize that one day good looks will be gone, and all they’ll be left with is what they’ve accomplished with their brains. Brains don’t fade away as quickly as looks do. Brains, and information stay inside of you until you die. Or until you get alzheimer's. But that's not relevant at the moment, and so i think I’ll move on. I am crazy smart. Or rather, i used to be. I think that the crazy part of it kind of faded away as i got past the stage when i carried around science booklets in my pockets, in second grade. It was that year that i realized that you can fit in, and still be smart. So i began to experiment with that. I sat with this group, those people. Some days i sat here, sometimes there, and slowly i began to know which people’s company i preferred. It was interesting. By the end of the second grade, i wasn’t the super smart girl who sat in the corner, thinking solely about what kind of crawly creature i had discovered in the garden. I was just another one of the girls in the class. I had shorts, tee-shirts, and brightly colored vests and jackets, just like all the pother girls. I no longer wore boy’s polo shirts, and i had started wearing skirts. And i continued like that for a long time. I lived my life just like any other slightly-above-average girl would, a normal kid wearing normal clothes and doing normal things. it was ok. I stayed at the same school all the way through elementary school, and then when i was 10, in fifth grade, something horrible happened. Elementary school ended. I was no longer a part of a group. I was just another little girl, who did not belong in the children’s elementary section anymore, but was still not in the middle school section. My family moved to Greece. It was to be expected, for me. You see, i was born in Greece, a smiley little kid, who tanned easily, and had a little bump on her ear, just like her grandma. My little sister, Zamina, was also born in Greece. When i was 4 and she was 1, we moved to the United States, because my Grandmother died, and my Papush, Grandfather, needed care at an old people’s home. He said that he was fine there without us, and the next year he died of a tumor in his lung. My Mother when to Greece then. when her Dad had just died. Me, Zamira, and Papi stayed at home. I was in first grade at the time. But presently, she returned, and we continued our lives. At the time, i was the crazy-smart little weird girl, and i stayed her until my realization in second grade. But this is all unrelated to the thing i was originally talking about. When i was 10, my family moved to Greece for a year. Me and Zamira went to a small school, and my mother began her career as a photographer. She photographer everything pretty around us, and my memories from that time are well documented. I made several friends in Greece, and i also got used to going to the beach almost every day, and walking around in tank tops that showed my shoulders, something that was not allowed at my elementary school. But after a year in Greece, my mom was budding over with new ideas about photography. She was exploding with the knowledge, and she wanted to travel the world, giving seminars. y dad told her to settle for the U.S. We moved back, and i went to camp over the summer, the summer before seventh grade. I was ready to be the new kid again.