100th Post: Celebration Time

Before I enchant you with sprinkles upon sprinkles of my famed (so I wish!) humour and rattle on about something which couldn't be further unrelated from a particular theme, there is something - a couple of words more meaningful than an aching desire to spill the beans regarding a buried-deep passion for teddy bears, as I have often compelled myself to not do for the sake of my dignity (and uber-cool persona) which I need to say. Have you poked your head out of the Sunday newspaper by now, your eyes as alert as an oh-so-playful kitten? I hope so because speaking my mind about a matter which means the world to me isn't a common occurrence, nor is it destined to become a regular feature on my blog.

When I set up Life as a Modern Teen (LAAFT) on what I remember as a dark and soggy-as-cold-fries evening at the very end of October - this is no joke because it was indeed Halloween, though its age-old scariness had long worn off due to a lack of chocolate lying in the cupboard - boredom had pushed me beyond my usual means and, as I had all but been consumed by desperation to find something remotely fun to do, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision to set up a blog. Whether I've mentioned this in the past or have had my memory swiped in order to forget that it was merely a false belief, I have created blogs or at least blog-inspired websites about a wacky array of subjects - at one point, my younger self dedicated one site towards my old cats, Tom and Jerry, and would have a tendency to post pictures of Jerry squeezing his eyes shut whenever my camera flashed - though, as my priorities now solely rely here, my interest for these sites faded as quickly as a glimmer of hope, marking yet another return to the miserable land of boredom.

To make matters worst, last October might have very well been the worst month of my life because one significant event - the loss of Jerry, who was the remaining brother of our original 'furry brothers' - had threatened to tip me off the edge, and I was a ticking time bomb as fighting the temptation to give way to my raw emotions drained me of the little energy I had left, especially as Tom's death six months before had thrown me into the arms of despair. Needless to say, I was at a particularly low point when the idea to revisit my blogging past - albeit a short-lived one - entered my thoughts which, as my family and I had just begun the agonizing wait to adopt two kittens (who sadly never came into our ownership due to certain circumstances, though we found our new pair elsewhere over a month later), was filled with grief, sadness and a slight, yet significant twinge of impatience.

Sticking to my roots, it is rather fair to declare that I have a prominent impatient streak which, from counting down the minutes until dinner is served to receiving an all-important letter, appears out of nowhere by the slightest nudge. At a time when I was grasping my last signs of hope like it could be ripped from my hands, dealing with my impatience - and itch-like wish to get what I wanted immediately - added to my stress, probably forming my first premature wrinkles in the process. So, as my fingers began to type on the keyboard and I relaxed by doing what brings me a child-like pleasure - writing, of course - a sense of relief showered over me because, for the first time in an extremely long while, I felt as though life itself would settle down and coping with the general stress of it would get easier as time passed on.

And, like many people whose names I cannot remember say, the rest is history. Here I am, seven months on, and an eager interest in running a blog has not ceased, nor can I imagine it happening anytime soon. Why I'm bringing up the relevance of writing LAAMT is that this very entry will be the hundredth entry I've posted which, considering that there was a dreadful point when I lost faith in my writing ability and feared that a life-long dream to become a journalist/savvy writer was over, is a very poignant moment for me, bringing past memories - both as joyous as a bird's song and ones which I would rather remain firmly in the past - to the centre of my mind. To think that I exceeded my own expectations is a feeling which hardly any words can describe, along with spreading my message about teenage life on the internet for my readers to appreciate at any time within their lives.

Since my journey into writing heaven began last Halloween, my skills and appreciation towards writing have not only flourished, but I barely recognize the person that I used to be, having dug deeper than a JCB digger into the parts of myself that were previously hidden from the world, let alone myself. I have a renewed confidence which has reflected in my eagerness to showcase the skills which I've honed right here, a place where I'm immune to fear settling in my throat and preventing me from fulfilling this blog's main ambition: saying what is on my mind. Entering adolescence has played a significant role in my on-going search for discovering a voice which is entirely my own and understanding life as we humans know it, so being able to share my journey - oh gosh, haven't we X Factor addicts grown tired of that over-used word? - with you has been a privilege on my part, if not for your own pleasure.

Although several of my posts have not necessarily stuck to the theme of discussing life as a modern teen, I have no desire to be restricted to certain subjects because it would break the most important code of all: expressing myself at no restraint. Despite my two eight month kittens, Bart and Benny, developing a habit of getting hold of my tongue when I need it most, I can run at full flow behind my laptop's screen, brave to declare what is on my mind and giving a glimpse into who I am as a person. Though my real name is anonymous and I wouldn't dream of posting a picture of myself in a million years - do you really wish to catch a glimpse of a girl whose mind is constantly glued towards her blemished complexion? - I like to believe that you know me as well as a friend and, for all that I know, I could be a pal, which makes my duty of hiding away in my bedroom for hours on end more worthwhile and fulfilling.

Over these past seven months ago, my life has been piled high with glorious moments of happiness, mouth-spluttering amusement (especially if I've taken a huge gulp of Diet Coke) and waves of salt-flavoured tears as events as living itself has taught me all of its tricks, along with settling into who I'm going to be for a few more years: a teenager. When my parents informed me about moving away back in January, I was a mixture of crazy-and-high emotions, feeling as emotional as I did when both of my cats had passed away the year before; whilst a major part of myself was chuffed to bits with the prospect of relocating to a better place, the rest of me was captivated with fear as to what the future would lie ahead as, at that point, nothing was certain. If my head wasn't stuck in a bag of salted Doritos or I ran out of episodes of The Vampire Diaries to watch, my thoughts would instantly concentrate upon what I would later refer to as 'My Impending Doom', gripped with worry about the changes confirmed to take place in my life in the ever-nearing future.

Somehow, as the weeks passed by and moving day no longer filled me with dread, I pulled myself out of fear's grip, most noticeably due to spending more time than usual in front of my laptop and, without a doubt, my blog. In March alone - the month in which I moved house - I posted twenty entries, a feat of which I hadn't achieved since November last year. Up until the day before I moved over one hundred and fifty miles to a village in the heart of oh-so-glorious countryside (and amongst the many rapeseed fields), I was still raving about my excitement over starting a new leaf and, in typical teen style, posting videos of my favourite tracks on YouTube when my mind should have been focusing on other matters. Like grabbing hold of my coat before the removal firm took it away in their massive lorry, instead of singing the lyrics to Lady Gaga's G.U.Y....

Over six weeks since my high-heeled self landed in a street reminiscent of a countryside version of Wisteria Lane, I've dealt with the hassles of unpacking my possessions, getting to know the area and, to my horror, cleaning up after the purple fluff left behind from the towels in my beloved haven, also known as my very own en-suite (how I very much enjoy rubbing that fact in!). Above all, I'm very happy in my new home and wouldn't trade it for the world which, after working myself into such a worry when I found out about our impending move four months ago, is a major relief indeed. The only things needed to complete my perfect chapter is finding a place at a secondary school - which, having been taught at home for the past seven years, brings my days as a homeschooler to somewhat of a bittersweet end - and maybe a new Sims game. Well, a teenager deserves some fun once in a while after all!

Throughout the many changes in my life, this blog has been my precious rock and source of inspiration which, as a blogger who has fallen prey to a bout of writer's block from time to time, is utterly invaluable. Posting entries about whatever has sent me on a heated rampage or has brought me immense pleasure is a joy which extends beyond the typical realms of a hobby, making me realize that blogging is so much more than a way of killing some spare time. As I type the last few words in an entry, I'm dancing in the air with delight that, once again, I've destroyed the demons which used to torment me whenever I struggled to discover the inspiration to lift a pen, let alone type a whole entry. And, having neared towards the end of today's poignant message, I'm about to experience a wave of emotions - holding such a beautiful significance - wash over me, along with a sense of achievement.

Despite never picking up a trophy at a Chelsea Soccer School like my younger brother nor winning a competition in living memory, I feel like I've won something highly prestigious, which is the reason behind the smile lighting my face like a candle. I'm a winner for finding my voice and standing my ground, no matter the cost or struggle it took for me to achieve it. Thank you for reading this paragraph alone as it expresses how I - an ordinary British girl living life as a modern teenager - feel deep inside, and I doubt that I would have ever discovered my feelings up close and personal had it not been for creating LAAFT.

For now, though, this girl is enjoying life as it is, most noticeably for being a modern day teenager, of course.