"The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end."
- Benjamin Disraeli
The whole thing about first loves is the fact that they only come around once, right? In movies and TV shows and books, those who've felt the rush of a first love - and are usually happily married - always look back with tenderness and often longing for their first love, telling their children that, 'Your first is so special..." And we're supposed to believe that they weren't heartbroken when it ended, that they don't, even a little bit, wish they could know how it would have gone.
And then there's the first love stories that are rife with sorrow and regret, like the song 'Back to December' by Taylor Swift or 'The One that got Away' by Katy Perry. 'These days I haven't been sleeping,' sighs Taylor, 'staying up playing back myself leaving..' So much sadness, so much hurt - and yet, 'It's the most beautiful feeling?'
I'm all for pain making us stronger, and hardship teaching us maturity - but using love to have some sort of legendary - and apparently, mandatory - teenage experience? Is that really what God intended?
I don't mean to be preachy. It isn't like I haven't made mistakes in relationships, in fact, I'm not sure that you can have a real relationship without making a myriad of mistakes, I'm only trying to see clearly through this murky swamp they call 'life.' I suppose most adults - and especially teenagers - would be shocked to hear that I am a fairly normal 17 year old female and yet would not profess to have been in love at any time in my life. (Because Jim Halpert doesn't officially count, right?) Honestly, from the time that I fully realized that having a first love almost always means having multiple 'loves,' I had resolved not to have this happen to me. 'Why would anyone intentionally go into something knowing it could end?' I thought.
'But that's the thing, younger, more black-and-white Sophie,' I have to tell myself, 'People don't fall in love thinking it will end.' With love, you have to make a choice - to trust, to climb to new places never explored, to care for someone other than themselves.
What started this whole train of thought, you ask? I had another one of those nebulous, 'not-just-friends-not-quite-in-a-relationship' experiences, and it ended. Not terribly, but not wonderfully, either. There were faults on both sides - for instance, I've realized I need to be much more guarded with my regard until I know some one's real character - but it's still a sadness. I know I'm hurt, much more than I would have expected. Today he told me he no longer wanted a relationship with me, other than platonic friendship. Even though I agree, it still stung to hear it from him. I know it may be crazy, but I have so much trouble feeling that I don't inspire the kind of devotion that lasts, at least not romantically. It makes me question, "Aren't I pretty enough?" "Am I still worth caring for?" "Is anyone ever going to fall in love with me?"
And I guess the most important thing to know right now, is that I'm not ready. I don't want love when I'm 17. Logic, statistics, and common sense tell me that if I want to keep my heart intact, it's wise to keep it locked away. You may think I'm just afraid, that I would gain so much if I just let myself believe in love, and you could be right. But for now, I'm content to leave my 'Perfectly Good Heart' in one piece.

P.S. Have you had a first love? What was it like? Are you still with them, or did they break your heart? Let me know in the comments below.

Interview With a Princess

Hey guys,
So I've decided to share a piece that I recently wrote for my Creative Writing Class with you. The assignment was to describe a chance meeting with any historical figure of your choice. I hope you enjoy it!

“Woops!” I slipped and fell on what felt like stone. Travel like this, with no idea exactly where a person would end up, only when and what continent, could get confusing and, for me, dizzying. Sitting up slowly to take in my surroundings, I saw that I sat in the middle of an elaborate garden, with dozens of different kinds of flowers and plants forming intricate patterns all around me. With its bushes pruned and guided into shapes of animals and various structures, I surmised that I must have landed either in England or the Netherlands. After all, who else in Europe spent this much time in the dirt merely for enjoyment in 1558? At least my simple green dress would pass for any servant’s in these parts. Dressing presented another difficulty in this hasty time travel – one’s country definitely impacted dressing to blend in, so I usually chose something simple that didn’t stand out.

Now that I felt much less disoriented, the time had come to explore. I had exactly twenty-four hours to enjoy this trip, and I meant to use every second for discovery. Standing up, I realized for the first time that, not far off stood an enormously familiar-looking countryside palace, complete with about a million windows, sandstone and white brickwork, and dozens of elaborate archways.

“Wow,” I breathed. This place was pretty unbelievable. I couldn’t wait to look around inside. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, I stood slowly and began to make my way around the back of this enormous palace, searching for a servant’s door or even the stables so that I could venture inside without being noticed. ‘Ah, here we go,’ I thought, pleased to have found the servant’s passage into what looked like the kitchens. Could I eat here, too? Sampling some fine British cuisine from the sixteenth century would surely prove itself educational (and delicious).

‘Look at all these people!’ I thought in disbelief. So many of them, all occupied in their work; here a girl mopped the stone tiles, there a cook chopped onions for the midday meal, here a laundress carried a huge basket of linens outside to dry, and there a boy hurried about carrying messages. The place bustled with activity, so I didn’t worry so much about being discovered. What was one more person among the throng? However, I felt almost certain that if I stood around gaping at the activity around me for much longer, someone would probably notice. Moving as if I had some idea where I meant to go, I slipped away down a nearby corridor, and my adventures officially began.

Passing hall after hall, room after room, I glimpsed vast galleries of probably priceless original paintings, brilliantly colored tapestries covering the walls, and so many pieces of furniture with at least some part covered in gold filigree. Then I came to the part of the palace that appeared to hold the bedchambers and suites for guests, which seemed no less elaborate or sophisticated. There, at the end of this particular hall with its twelve foot double doors open, was a room like none other. ‘Room’ seemed almost to dishonor it. As I walked towards it, I saw that this space would probably have fit half of my house easily, with high, spacious ceilings and wide, bright windows looking out onto the marvelous gardens. Stepping slowly forward, I crept even further inside and shut the doors behind me, for fear of discovery in a place that was obviously not intended for the enjoyment servants.

“You, girl! What business do you have in my private chambers? Speak up now.” A voice said imperiously.

“Uh-oh,” I said to myself as I spun around to find the owner of the voice. It came from a tall, slight figure of a woman standing in one of the corners of the room, framed by the window’s light. She had an incredibly intelligent, open face, even if she did look a bit haughty at the moment. After all, I was only a servant to her; this young woman had ‘nobility’ written all over her face, and must be several years my senior. Long, curly red hair flowed down her back and framed her too-pale face, although the rest of her skin looked olive-toned. Her brow rose, waiting for a more coherent answer to her query. I fidgeted, unprepared with an alibi as to my reason for exploring a noblewoman’s bedroom.

“Um, sorry, your . . . ladyship,” I finished lamely.
“Ladyship?” She scoffed, “I am Elizabeth, Crown Princess of England and the surrounding Isles and heir to Her Royal Majesty, my gracious sister’s throne.”
“Oh. Sorry, Your Highness,” I said, curtsying as best I could and wobbling uncontrollably.
“But you have not answered my question, girl. What is your business here?”
“Oh, that again,” I thought quickly, “The . . . chef wanted you to know that you’ll be having soup for the midday meal. He hopes that’s alright . . . ?”
“Since when am I in charge of meals in my own palace?” She seemed offended. I didn’t want to offend the future queen. Deciding that my best course of action was distraction, I chose the most random thing that came to mind – an impromptu interview. In my best Ryan Seacrest impression, I blurted,
“Princess Elizabeth, what age are you and how does it feel to know that you’ll one day become queen of all England?”
“I am twenty and five years of age. Again, I will inquire as to your business asking impertinent questions of royalty.”

I thought that the time for pretending to be a servant had passed.
“Your Highness, I know I look like a servant, but in reality I am something entirely different sent from the future to find out all about you. I have a limited amount of time to question you, so if you would cooperate, I would be honored.”
“Are you a spy, then, sent from my enemies to bring about my downfall?” She asked quietly, then said, almost to herself, “You are rather small and unassuming to be a spy, however.”
“No, not a spy, certainly not, Your Highness. I’m merely a curious young girl willing to learn from you.” She still looked suspicious, and she had a right to it. Plenty of spies had surely passed through this place looking for evidence of wrongdoings to incriminate this young woman.

“Alright,” I said, wiling to convince her, “Look, here’s something that you won’t find anywhere in 1558.” I pulled out my cell phone, one of the only things I had been allowed on this particular time travel adventure. After all, I only needed to change her opinion of me now so that she wouldn’t call the guards and have me beheaded. By morning, she would have no memory of me whatsoever. The princess looked surprised and not a little bit curious.

“What is it?”
“It’s a Samsung Seek; I have it in pink and my mom has one that’s red, but mine is way better because it has flower designs on the front and back. And look, its touch screen and everything!” I stopped, realizing she was absolutely and completely lost.
“Oh. Sorry. I mean, it’s a device from the future. Look, it turns on and off – although that’ll cost you battery so don’t do it too many times. It’s called a cellular telephone, and it can call people from far away so that you can talk to them. You can also send messages with it, especially if you have an accomplished texter like me on hand.” I smiled, proud of my status, but she still seemed not to be paying much attention to what I was saying.
“Here, would you like to play around with it? It plays music, too.” She took it, turning it over and over, sliding it open and closed and pressing the screen with her long, delicate fingers.

“Now do you believe me?” I asked patiently. She looked up, staring deep into my eyes as if she were trying to x-ray my soul.
“Yes.” She responded.
“Okay, then please may I ask you some questions?”
“You may, but first I must know your name and rank of birth.” This came as a surprise, but I supposed she deserved an honest answer.
“My name is Sophia Josephine Conley, but you can call me Sophie if you like. In my time, there isn’t much call for ‘rank of birth.’ I’m not really anyone special, but I’m not a servant either. My father works as a pastor in a church, if that helps. Does that satisfy Your Highness?”
“I suppose so. You may begin your questioning, Sophia.” She said, like the queen she would become in just a few short months.
“Let’s start with your favorite color.”
“How is that of importance?” She asked commandingly.
“I’m not sure that it is, but it’s somewhere to start, right?” She thought about it for a moment, then nodded slowly.
“Indeed. My answer is scarlet.”
“Cool.” I said, smiling at her tentatively.
“Is the temperature significant?”
“Um, no,” I said, hiding a smile, “It’s just an expression.”
“Well, we’d best keep going if we do not have much time. Next question, Sophia?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I agreed, settling in for what would probably be a long but entertaining and instructional rest of the day.

Don'tmessupDon'tmessupDon'tmessup

Hey guys,

Now as most of you probably know, I'm a huge Owl City fan. Adam Young, the man behind the music, is such an amazing witness for fellow Christians and the world at large. He manages to make music that is not strictly - or even blatantly - gospel, while still glorifying God with his life, actions, and testimony. He is very open about who he is and the part that his faith plays in his life, while still coming across as humble and kind, and not overly 'preachy.' Not to mention that his music is one of the best things I've heard - ever. Like I said, huge fan right here.

It just so happens that Mr. Young has a blog. It's one of my very favorites. He has such a playful and childlike way of explaining things, along with being deeply emotive and expressive using words. His musings are a great testimony that anyone can be a great writer, even if they're just sharing their thoughts with the world. I'm not here to only sing Adam's praises, though. My purpose today is to share with you one recent blog post that really impacted me in a big way. Here he shares his personal experiences with meeting someone for a split second and wanting so much to say something, but being unable to speak up due to paralyzing shyness, among other things. (The other things he touched on are also really significant, like the importance of waiting for your One True Love, seeing girls as 'beautiful' as opposed to 'hot,' and asking God to keep your future spouse close, safe, and for them to grow continually in Him - all things that I really appreciated.)

Believe it or not, when it comes to times like this, I can completely relate. There have been so many times that this has happened to me because I just don't want to mess things up. The pressure to not come across as nerdy, uncool, or awkward is so great that it seems easier to just stay silent. However, I've really been thinking about that. I've come to the conclusion that it shouldn't matter if you are unconditionally nerdy, or irrevocably awkward, or completely uncool. Because, as trite and silly as it sounds, whoever you want to impress should be happy just to know the real you. The true test will be to take my own advice . . . I wonder how that will go.

On this subject, My Life is Backwards because, while I'm usually so forward and outgoing, when it comes to making a vital impression on a very important person, I'm always the first to fade right into the woodwork and keep as silent and as beneath notice as possible - at least until now...

- Moje życie jest do tyłu.

~ Sophie

'You are the best thing that's never been mine.'

OK, so if you've heard Taylor Swift's great new single, "Mine," you probably know that the lyric in the above title isn't exactly how it goes. No, this song is all about how this guy she's with is the best thing that's ever happened to her. As great as that is for Ms. Swift, not all of us have that kind of a relationship. Or a relationship at all. Not that I'm resentful - of course I'm not. ;) No, what I'm saying is this - sometimes it can be even more fun and addicting not to have your heart's desire. That's right - I said not. That way, you can spend every waking minute thinking about that thing, about what you'll do when you get it, about how every single detail of that thing is perfect, about how when you just get that one thing, your life will be complete.

All right, let's forget the vague, non-specifics and just say it's a guy. Thinking about that one young man that you'd love to be with could be scads more fun than actually dating them! What if, in reality, they're boorish and unintelligent, with just enough mysteriousness (or simply the lack of anything to say) to make you think they're really just shy, mulling over their deep, private thoughts? On most occasions, quiet depth is not what you're looking at. But we just pretend, because it's such good fun. However, most girls don't see the potential emotional damage they could be inflicting on themselves while they pine away for the semi- fictional Mr. Dreamy.

And I'm not planning on pointing my finger without admitting that I've done this, too. In fact, I've just recently decided to try to kick the habit, because it's been causing such damage. You see, while it does make me feel epicly star-crossed, it really just promotes feelings of desperation, depression, and even self-inflicted heart-break. Us girls, we can have fully fledged 'relationships' without once speaking to the object of our infatuation. This element of unreality is so unhealthy, I've realized it would be much better just to focus on other things - things that actually exist, for example.

Now, I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing I'm not the only one that does this. 'Better to have a completely fabricated - but enjoyable - relationship in my mind than none at all, right?' Wrong. It's a destructive behavior that could lead to an addiction - yep, addiction. It's an addiction to the feelings: affection, infatuation, longing, fascination, call it what you like, it's not healthy to enforce these feelings just to feel them. Yes, you can hope for them someday, and be excited for them when they do come, but don't feel that you need some form of 'love' in order to fit in. Things are special because they're rare, not because you stumble upon them everyday.

But I don't mean to ramble. I just want you to know, you can be perfectly happy and without a boyfriend. It won't kill you. And you can become a better person because of it. And when you find yourself without a date on Friday night? Call me.

Summer Adventures...

Hello, interweb! Long time no see, right? I've been extremely busy doing an awful lot of nothing, as you see to the left... reading a 1998 Special Edition of Teen People takes time. Besides lounging around at Lake Ontario, I have done lots of fun things. Such as... doing touristy things, trying to get a tan, watching many, many Youtube video bloggers, befriending a lovely Hungarian international tourist, re-watching all of the seasons of Doctor Who (I've finally caught up!), making about 1,001 trips to Starbucks (more on that later), reading several fantastic books (and several very non-fantastic ones), and I've gotten a haircut.

Alright, let's go in order. I had no idea how fascinating Prince William was until I bought this 'vintage' Teen People at a local flea market. I also bought several other things, like several anklets, a ring, and a necklace, but that's beside the point. The Prince of Wales seems very lovely, and I just wish he was a bit younger. Oh well, there's always Harry! :) Did you know that the nobles of England are allowed to marry Americans? There's hope! Just kidding. Sort of.

Touristy things: The best part of our Lake Ontario vacation was our day trip to the Thousand Islands and Boldt Castle. Myself, my father, my mom, Meg, and Emma all went on a short cruise of the thousand islands which ended at the fabulous and mysterious Boldt Castle. It would be a lot more mysterious if there weren't hundreds of American and Canadian tourists milling about. The story is quite romantic. Back in the 1920's this man decided to build a huge, lavish castle for his beloved wife, but she died suddenly before it was finished. After that, he would not let a single person set foot on the island, vowing that if she hadn't been able to see it, neither would anyone else. And then...he died. So they did finish it, and now it's a great place to go and admire and wish that this was your summer home... well, that's what we did.





The next wonderful thing I accomplished is a new friendship. Miss Laura Varga came to Albany, NY to experience America, and we happened to meet. She's pretty awesome. We spent the day in downtown Albany, doing the State Museum, walking around on the Plaza, and having scintillating conversation. We managed to spend time together several times before it was time for her to leave town. The Plan is that next year I will come and visit her in Hungary. It's going to happen.


Doctor WHO! I love that show so much! I wish there were more Americans that watched it, but oh well. It's just another sign that I was destined to be an adopted Brit. This past season really surprised me. I had expected it to be a disappointment what with the changing of Doctors from David Tennant to Matt Smith, but this has been a remarkable and even sometimes funny season. Karen Gillan did a great job as companion, and the writing for the episodes was as brilliant as ever. Well done, BBC, well done. Here's a link to one of my favorite video bloggers from the UK singing about the season finale: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmGHAl8j5b0&feature=player_embedded

Just as a side note, my two favorite drinks of the summer were these: Grande coffee frappuccino with 2 pumps each of hazelnut and caramel, with an add shot for a caffeine boost, and: Grande iced coffee with 2 pumps each of caramel and vanilla syrup, and a caramel drizzle on top. Oh, so good! :) And of course there's always the classic caramel macchiato! -->

Alright, I think that about covers it, except to tell you that I don't recommend looking for uplifting, non-depressing books in the Young Adult section of the library. You won't find any. The best book I read this summer was a historical fiction called A Brief History of Montmaray by Michelle Cooper. I really enjoyed reading it for the fairly unknown history of this tiny island in 1937.

Oh, I almost forgot about my haircut! I went really short just this past week for something different. I wasn't sure at all how it would turn out, or even where my hairstylist was going with it, but I ended up really liking how much it looked like Alice Cullen from the Twilight movie! I hadn't expected that.

I hope you all are well, and I'd like you to know that My Life Is Backwards this summer because I spent the majority of it without internet. Me! A girl who goes through withdrawal after being out and about for a day without checking email or Facebook! Ah, how funny life is...

- Életem visszafelé!

P.S. Tell me the best part about your summer in the comment section below. Thanks!

How the Regents Ruined 3 Months of my Life, and Other Stories

Ugh. I just finished my Chemistry Regents (Well, technically I came home, downed a Grande Caramel Macchiato, slept for 2 hours, and then I sat down with you) and it was...memorable. Technically, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. I mean, I knew the majority of the questions due to the frantic studying I accomplished between getting my Final back and 1 o'clock this afternoon. It's just absolute madness that we learn all year for this horrendous exam. Our first clue would be that only California is the other state stupid enough to fall for this annual torture method inflicted on innocent High School students. Thankfully, I'm not desperately unintelligent, but Chemistry is most definitely not my strong suit. It does make me feel alot better, though, that whenever you mention Chemistry to the average High School graduate, you'll get a groan and probably a VERY sympathetic look. That helps.

But lets not dwell on the highly unpleasant things of life - the test is over and now all I can do is wait for the inevitable and much-too-important grade. No, let's talk about music. I've been discovering lots of brand new artists that are lesser known to me but well worth having in my iTunes. Like Johnny Cash. Man, is he fun to listen to! I mean, I know I'm like 60 years later than his time or something, but songs like Walk the Line and Ring of Fire are just plain awesome. Oh, and Herman's Hermits? Yeah, they're pretty hilarious. In a good way, mind - I have their Greatest Hits, and 'Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter' is adorable. Gotta love those British people. I also got some more of the absolutely wonderful James Blunt (another talented Brit), along with some Bon Jovi. Apparently, not having heard anything he's ever done is a huge hole in my musical education (at least that's what my brother, Jim, informed me).

With the start of Summer comes books - dozens, hundreds, thousands. I've just finished one that seemed all too familiar, until I realized that it was just Mulan with a few differences. I finished it anyway. It seems kind of wrong not to finish a book once you've really started; I've never been able to successfully stop reading book just because I didn't like it. Somehow, I feel like the author would find out and be extremely offended, or something. Have you ever just stopped reading a book? If so, do you remember which one it was? I'd really like to know.

Since we're going down the Media route, let's discuss a new show that I'm sort of addicted to: Glee. I have a feeling I should be a little embarrassed by the fact that I really, really like this show, but, for someone who has a Twilight, Eclipse, and High School Musical t-shirts, it doesn't seem so bad. Glee is just like HSM, only with better acting and a LOT more talent. And....well...Cory Monteith (Finn Hudson) makes it all worth while. That's all I'm going to say on that subject. Have you seen an episode of Glee, or is this the first you've heard of it?

Today My Life is Backwards because I'm a home schooled student who had to take the worst Regents of them all - Chemistry.

Leave me a comment below, and thanks for reading!

- Minha vida está para trás!

The Prom: 'A Night to Remember' (Whether You Go or Not)

That's right. The prom. Many high schoolers would put little sparkles and hearts around the title, followed by someone's initials and a date. Not me. When the talk of a prom that I would be able to attend rolled around several months ago, I snorted at the prospect. Me? In a ball gown, with some great guy dancing the night away and taking tons of pictures. It didn't appeal to me - it didn't fit the idea of myself that I held in my head. And so, I forgot it - until we happened upon a white, jeweled, full skirted ball gown that made me feel like Cinderella, completely without the customary soot and dust. Suddenly, the prom seemed like a magical place full of people waiting to admire me in all my sequined glory. I wanted that image, but I was firm that if I were to go, I must have a date. I wanted to either ask someone that I really, really would enjoy myself with, or forgo it altogether.

As the mental picture of myself in shimmering splendor faded, though, the prom fell out of my mind again, and I didn't search for a date. I was sure I didn't want to go with just anyone. I wanted to have the perfect experience. However, because of my aforementioned guy-friend shortage, and my past, unpleasant experiences with overly romantic boys, no readily available young men seemed to appear.

Then came dance class. What seemed like the possibility of so much fun and possibly pre-prom-worthy moments turned out to be an all-time low in the self-esteem area. Because I have long supported the 'the man goes after the woman'way of viewing guy-girl interactions, I wasn't one of the girls who immediately grabbed whichever partner I wanted. I wanted so badly to be picked for who I was, and, honestly, for what I looked like. It didn't happen. I ended up having to learn the male/lead part for every traditional dance, and it was pretty terrible. I have never felt as undesirable as I did then - there's just something about that age-old feeling of being selected out of all the others by someone. But I didn't get that feeling.

Oh, dear, we're getting much too depressing for normal conversation, aren't we? Anyway, when prom did roll around in earnest, all those girls from dancing class went with their very own dates - the boys they had selected from the very first lesson. I didn't go. No dress. No date. No hair and makeup. No...pictures. What pictures. The day after on Facebook was nearly insufferable. All those pretty faces, and it looked like so much fun. I knew that I would remember not attending the prom just as clearly as I would have remembered going.

So, I suppose it bothered me much more than I had anticipated. I felt forgotten, left behind, completely unwanted. I felt like I was supposed to be Cinderella, and I had missed the ball.

My mother assured me that my story was one of many disappointed, would-be princesses. That's my question to you: am I alone? Did you go to your prom, or did you decide against it? Were you asked, or did you ask someone to go with you? Was it every bit as magical and perfect as we all think, or was it a letdown?

I really want to know. My Life Is Backwards today because of those few moments I felt so much like Cinderella, but I seemed to have missed my first ball.

Share your prom story with me in the comment section below.

- Mae fy mywyd yn ôl.