Forgetful and Regretful

I am constantly asking my parents for this and that... well technically most of these things are for my horse, so he is really the one in need. But anyways, they are constantly going out of their way to please me and give me all that they can, and I rarely appreciate it. They pay for my horse's board, my horseback riding lessons, my phone, my car, my college counselor, etc. and I never appreciate it. I should be more grateful for how much they put into me in order to put me ahead in life. They constantly have to say no to my siblings because of me. They go to my ten hour horse shows and neglect my sister because she doesn't want to come with, and they drive me forty-five minutes to the barn so I can ride after school and get home at eight. My family gives up a lot for me to be successful, and sometimes I take that for granted because I do not know life without it. For example, if they took away riding, I would probably die, but I won't ever have to know that feeling because they hope one day it will get me a scholarship. Sometimes I dangle it over their heads when they threaten to ground me from it, but I really should be thanking them and trying my hardest in all that I do in order to please them and make their lives easier since my family gives up so much for me. I am thankful for my parents' "investments in my future" as they like to call it, and all that they and my siblings give up to help me succeed.

First Love

I remember hearing the words horseback riding lessons come from my grandma's mouth, and I all I could do was wait for that first time.  I am pretty sure that is the best present I ever received and my parents' worst nightmare because ten years later I still lesson twice a week and have owned three horses so far. I dragged my mom to Murdoch's as soon as I could and tried on at least five pairs of boots before deciding on the light brown ones with fringe dangling of the side. Then I got a real cowgirl shirt with pink and brown horses on it and pearl snaps. I drove out with my best friend, probably hyper-ventilating the entire time. When we finally arrived after our fifteen minute, yet eternity-long car ride, I met Jamie, my instructor, and Tunes. He was the biggest horse in the barn and the slowest. I learned how to brush him and attempted to tack him, but I was not quite strong or tall enough. I finally got to ride and that's when I fell in love. Although it was only walking, I was sure I belonged in a saddle, and my parents would never be able to keep me away from a horse for more than a week again. And so far, so good.

Fast Food

     "You have ten minutes to get to school!" screams my mother as I race around the house looking for a pair of shoes.
     "I'm working on it." I reply, grabbing a yogurt on my way through the kitchen.
     This is constantly how meal time goes in my household.  During dinner we do homework. Breakfast is normally on the way to school. Lunch is slightly more relaxing because my mom is not there to make sure I am using my time "productively." We are always busy or have somewhere to be so meals is a time to multi-task, and family dinners are a holiday-only occasion.

     Most families see meals as a way to spend time together, but now that we are all older, my family rarely all sits down and has dinner together. Other people have their mom prepare the meal or dad cook on the grill, but ours is more of a get at least to meals cooked this week and eat the  leftovers later on. There is always someone missing when we do get together because of football practice or choir, but we still hang out together, watching movies or going to each others' activities. Meal times for the Cimbura family are never extremely significant. It works for us though because we do a lot of other things together to make up for that time. Eating as a family is important to most people, but we do not find it easy or convenient to have dinner together everyday. Instead we run around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to do multiple tasks while eating.

The Beginning to an End

“…freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”

King fought for his children, for his friends, for the nation for more than ten years with little to show for it, but he never gave up because he knew the slow progression would eventually have to turn into something good. This quote from "Letter from Birmingham Jail" speaks not only for black people, but anyone willing to fight for freedom. The blacks never would have gained any rights if they would have just sat around waiting for things to change. The disrespect most likely would have worsened if they were idol. But they stood up for themselves; the blacks didn't deserve to use separate bathrooms or drinking fountains. They should not have had to sit on the back of the bus or shop at "black only" stores. Something had to change, and it was not going to unless the whites realized what they were doing. In the Holocaust, the Jews and anyone hated by the Nazi's was put into a work or death camp just because. If the United States and other parts of Europe did not fight them, Hitler would have completely wiped out the population and then would be to big to successfully bring down. The oppressors do not see it as wrong; they are doing what they believe in. The whites or the Nazi's could not recognize their faults, and even if they could, they did not want to resist their leaders. They would then be ostracized as well. If there is reason and will to fight, do it because tomorrow might be too late and if it is not hurting the oppressor, why should they stop? Give them a reason because it might last for a decade or a century, but the reward of freedom is so sweet. 

9/16/13 A Writing about Writing

Why are so many people afraid of books? Because they carry a strong message that not everyone agrees with, and in this time period, the world, especially America, is afraid to have arguments. If someone suggests his or her favorite book, and someone else reads it but hates it, he does not share his opinion. He politely says it was okay but there were some parts he disagreed with. The best way to learn from books is to discuss them and try to more deeply understand the message of the author. Behind every book there is another story; by banning books, important ideas are being covered up that have a right to be published and need to be seen. America is obviously not nearly as extreme as Nazi Germany, but in The Book Thief  Hitler burns many books because they are not to his liking or go against his ideas. If people would have been able to read them, maybe the Holocaust would have ended sooner. Books expose other points of view that could potentially save thousands of people. Parents naturally want to protect their children, and blatantly, they are not going to allow their six year old to read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but when they are mature enough, it can teach valuable lessons about the hardships of high school, like drugs and suicide. Children should not see everything right away; as they become more independent and have to make their own decisions, books can help them in ways others cannot teach that same lesson. Characters are relatable and can help just as much or even more than a real person. Their story provides a connection with the reader. Both fiction and nonfiction books can give an audience a mentor or a person that they realize made poor decisions, so that they can learn from those mistakes. If one is not exposed to books, they will be blind to the things happening around them. The influence of certain books makes a person an individual and helps create opinions about a variety of issues. Without books, the world would be sheltered, and the newer generations would be one instead of a group of different personalities. 

9/8/13 About Me

Ok... where do I start? I have lived a pretty amazing life so far and am grateful for it every day. The best memories started on my sixth birthday when I got horseback riding lessons thanks to my grandparents. From the minute I sat on that horse, mine nor my parents' life would ever be the same. I am still riding ten years later with the same passion and love that got me started (actually, it's grown). "I am releasing a horse!" That's what I would tell everyone because I had no idea what a lease was so I assumed that's what the adults meant. After leasing multiple horses, my parents caved in to getting me my own when I was nine, and Murphy was the best teacher I ever will have had. Every mistake that I made, he would fix. But sadly, after 2 years and colicing for the third time, it was time to say goodbye. I remember the morning we got the call as we were leaving for church. I figured it would be like every other time; the vets would tube him, and he would be fine. When we arrived, my mom did not even recognize him because he was so dull and dirty. Both of my parents told me not to stand next to him in case he fell over. It was all so surreal. I couldn't understand why God would take away my best friend and put me through all of that hurt. One day he is perfectly healthy, and the next he's gone. A month later, I found a new horse that nobody could ride, but my trainer told me we had a connection, so I started leasing Blue. We definitely had our ups and downs, including a few mouthfuls of dirt. He was more of a try-and-fail type of teacher, but I learned quite a bit with him as well. This past year, I moved barns, and my new trainer said we were no longer a fit for each other. I donated him to a lesson barn, where he became a beginner horse, but that was short-lived. Now he is retired and goes on casual trail rides every now and then. A month after donating Blue, my trainer, Mary, found me another horse. Vinny was purchased and shipped from Chicago a week after Mary went to look at him. There were some obstacles at the beginning, but now he is a champ. We had our first show two weeks ago, receiving two firsts and a fifth. He is mine until college, and then a new chapter will start in my riding career. 

My life was a lot simpler before I was eight. In June, my siblings, mom, and I went to Elitch Gardens with some friends. My mom had noticed I was constantly thirsty and had to pee every thirty minutes. We got home that night at about ten. After talking to my dad briefly, my parents decided to take me to the E.R. I clutched on to the balcony, screaming and crying because what kid enjoys the doctor's? My dad promised I would not get any shots. Needless to say, that was the complete opposite of what happened. The doctors poked me and made me do urine samples for hours before they came to a conclusion. I was type 1 Diabetic. "Could you say that in English please?" is what I was thinking. After getting a nice ride in the ambulance from Littleton Hospital to Children's, I learned I would be getting shots and finger pokes every few hours for the rest of my life. (I thought parents weren't supposed to lie to their children? Good job, Dad!). I got a pump when I was nine, which made life simpler until I became a teenager. I get yelled at about my blood sugars constantly because at about thirteen, I decided I knew how to deal with it on my own. My mother threatens to send me to community college because she doesn't want me going off on my own unless I figure this out. It is a working progress, but that was God's plan for me so I will learn to deal with it. 

So yep... that's my life in a nutshell, or at least the most important things.