Hi. Wow, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve been on here. For a while these past few weeks I’ve been kind of encapsulated in the college research/SAT prep bubble and everything else has seemed to fall by the wayside. I’m definitely not as active on here as I was in the spring and summer but my attention span for this kind of thing tends to kind of wax and wane over time.

    I think for a while I was super caught up in the statistics of these sorts of sites, and I’d tell myself something like if I didn’t gain 10 followers a week my account was failing, but obviously you can’t gain without putting something out there yourself, so there were also a lot of pieces i did specifically for the internet. I would look up what trends were rising or falling that week and try to very subtly add that sort of thing into a poem, and it made for a lot of things that I wasn’t proud of and didn’t feel fulfilled from. People--most people I know at least, including myself--fall into that little game with themselves and the internet after they realize that people like what they are putting out. I’m not going to get all motivational-speaker on you here, but really, if you put out something you don’t love and aren’t proud of, any praise will start to make you feel pretty not good.

    There’s an old writer’s adage that pretty much says that if you aren’t having fun writing something, nobody’s going to have fun reading it, and I think that can be true, but only to a fault. I write to process, to vent, to just get it all out (ugh that’s so cheesy) and while of course it can be fun, sometimes it isn’t. One of my more popular pieces, “burning things like trucks and my white privilege,” for example. It’s definitely something I love and I’m proud of it, but writing it was definitely not a happy or fun time, if you know what I mean.

I think basically what I’m getting at here is that something I’ve really come to realize here is that it isn’t about pleasing people or making them happy. If I put out something I’m proud of it really doesn’t matter at all what people think. Of course I love all of you and hope you stick around, but if you don’t like my writing that’s okay, too. Going into the new year I’m going to start posting more of what I want, maybe some of my funnier side that I tend to kind of not show online, all that kind of thing.

Anyway, I’ve been pretty good. School is insane, but everyone says junior year is the worst so I was kind of expecting that, and online classes are...interesting, to say the least. It kind of feels sometimes like I’m living inside of an SNL sketch and everyone is playing their parts perfectly but someone forgot to write my cue cards so I’m just standing there kind of absorbing all of the insanity, not really positive what’s going on around me.

    Also included this month--Christmas. I think a lot of people aren’t really thinking Christmas will seem strange this year because they got over that initial shock with Thanksgiving, but my family actually does tend to do Thanksgiving alone half the time so it didn’t feel out of the ordinary at all. Christmas is kind of a big holiday, though, and it’s a busy season typically so I think I’ll either really like the slowness of this year, or it will just seem really depressing and empty.

People in my area talk about 2020 ending like everything will go back to normal the minute 12:00 hits. I mean, I get it. I think we all want to wake up on January first and get the year we all think we missed out on and have this all just feel like a weird fever dream. But that can also be a really toxic way to think because they’re setting all their hope of normalcy on a day and when it comes and, inevitably, nothing’s changed, reality is going to feel like a slap in the face.

    All that to say, I’m not doing this as a “Yes! 2020′s ending!” type thing. I just thought it would be something fun and light to end such a heavy year on. My friend (not on here, unfortunately) suggested I call it blogmas and do it like youtubers do their vlogmases, a good mix of fun and cheesy, but I couldn’t stand the name and thought it would take too much time. But I came on today and saw someone else do a 25 days of stories and one of my wtw buddies doing a December Poetry on Prose (shout out to Samina) and I was just like, why not? So I’m calling it a countdown and taking my friend’s advice and doing it like fun/cheesy youtube videos, and that’s this.

Happy almost holidays, everyone. As the semester ends, remember we’re all in this together and I’m so thankful I can be a source of light for so many of you throughout the year

xx- Riley

After a Prose glitch and a relatively friendly wtw response, I haven’t given this up on day two. Welcome back, kiddos. Time to hop back onto the hot mess express.

I like to come onto the internet, typically, with something beautiful and edited and premeditated. It makes me feel put together, and even though this is just such a teeny tiny aspect of my life, it’s nice to feel like something is pretty and put together. I also think that when a few tiny things feel super put together it feels a lot better than when one bigger thing is. It gives your brain a sort of illusion that less things are messy when really hardly anything’s changed.

That said, I was up late last night doing homework and it’s been a full week. I have...not really anything special to leave you to dwell on. So allow me to leave you with this:

- It is one hundred percent not a coincedence Kamala Harris and I share a birthday. It is also not a coincedence that Kim Kardashian’s birthday is the day after. I look forward to our triple party someday.

- Friday is typically my favorite day of the week and I know that’s super basic, but I promise it’s for other reasons than “Yay the weekend”:

1) Friday holds my favorite class of the week, Literature and Composition. I get high grades in all my classes (except math, in which I’m considered a disgrace) but this is the only one where the teacher calls my work exemplary.

2) Yay the weekend I get to semi-ruin my sleep schedule and watch too much bestdressed.

- I’ve been thinking about my resolutions this year and I haven’t really followed any of them. Didn’t learn latin, not much better at piano, my room’s a mess, my hair’s a mess, but I don’t really care about those things in the long run. I’m disappointed in myself though--I didn’t find new hobbies.

I tend to be a recluse--I don’t like texting, or zooming (unless it’s with Sena. Shout out to Sena, our zooms are always entertaining.) or family activities that last more than an hour. I’m an introvert. I don’t beat myself up for that. But all I really do is write, read, play guitar and study. I skateboard occasionally, but arguably that is actually my only hobby that doesn’t require practice or study or working towards something else. And don’t get me wrong here--I love all of the things I listed, but this year I wanted to find more hobbies that were productive but didn’t always make me feel like I should work harder to Be The Best. I just want to have fun sometimes, despite what people may believe, and I don’t always know how to do that.

- 47! Days! Until! Igettoseethecheetodraggedfromthewhitehouseandintoajailcell!

- Spotify Wrapped came out and I don’t know if its as hyped up everywhere or if that’s just a thing my friends and I do, but I love seeing other people’s and it’s one of those little things I look forward to all year, so I’m super sorry if this is super lame but I just thought I’d share mine real quick--

442 new artists (which seemed...weird at first because I literally listen to the same eight people I’ve listened to since I was twelve, but I actually fall asleep to white noise/ambience playlists and there are lots of artists there and my bet is that’s where that number comes from.)

Genrelust: 201 genres, 148 were new ones. My top ones were pop, showtunes, pop rock, mellow gold, and modern rock

Top songs: Little Miss Perfect (sung by Taylor Louderman for Write Out Loud. This has a total of 69 streams.), Rocket Man (Elton John. This one got me through a rough night in the hospital.), Anything Can Happen (sung by Caroline Pennel on The Voice season 4. This brings me wayyy back, and I still maintain that she should’ve won that season.), Brand New (Ben Rector. Not really sure how this is on here since I haven’t listened to it in months, but I think it must be from the summer. I’d put this on every morning to try and hype myself up.), and Cherry Wine (Hozier. One of my all-time favorites. I found this the day a tornado just barely missed my neighborhood. What a year it’s been.)

4,090 podcast minutes (I blame the ride to OBX)

Top podcasts: Tmsoft’s White Noise Sleep Sounds (see below), Sleepy, Sierra Unfiltered, Sleep With Me, A24 Podcast

Biggest podcast binge: Tmsoft’s White Noise Sleep Sounds for 10 episodes in one day which sounds insane, I know. But I actually remember this day. This was the only two times I ever listened to this podcast (I prefer playlists for my white noise bc it changes), it was midnight, and I was so tired I forgot to set my sleep timer which is usually for an hour. This podcast played from 12-9, and then I stared it that night at 11.)

My top decade was the 2000′s, and my top song from then was Reflecting Light by Sam Phillips (thanks, Gilmore Girls!)

Top artists: Hozier (882 minutes!), Jessie Mueller (which is the artist Spotify puts the musical “Waitress” under, so this is that), Lady Gaga, Vienna Teng, and Lorde

619 artists altogether

Altogether, I listened to Spotify for 23,592 minutes or, if you want a conversion, about two weeks of my life.

What a mess. It’s only ten, but I should get to bed.

xx- Riley

Saturdays in quarantine are just so disappointing, honestly, like you don’t want to do school so you look forward to the weekend, and then once it gets there you’re just bored because there’s literally nothing to do.

God, what a depressing way to start today’s post.

I really contemplated just rambling about mental health today, just because I knew that’s definitely something that could fill a lot of page space. But I figured that if you’re bored in quarantine, the last thing you want to do is listen to some other person who feels the same way. I cleaned out my closet today and found last year’s box of notebooks. I’ve been writing stories and things like that for forever, but I only started writing poetry in July of 2019. I got my laptop last year for Christmas from my parents, so there was a long stretch of time there when I kept all my poems in hard copy notebooks. That went on until about March of this year, honestly. It just felt unnecessary to keep up. Anyway, I’ve got one and a half poetry books full and the first one is...rough.

I hope this makes you smile today. I know it made me crack a smile, and today was rough. Some days all you want to do is buy a nice purse (The Real Real is a godsend, I found it last week and maybe now I’ll finally be able to afford that Michael Kors bag I’ve been dreaming about since I was six) and lay in bed and cry. But remember: these days pass. Tomorrow might be better. Also, wait for that purse to go on sale lower--it’s not like you’re going anywhere.

Okay, let’s go.

Vsco girl

This is not the first poem I wrote. Unfortunately, I don’t have a copy of that. This is, however, the first one in the book, which means it’s the third or fourth. I remember being really proud of this one and actually giving it to the boy I liked at the time. But that’s another story for another time--if you want all my love stories as one of these days be sure to tell me down below.

This poem doesn’t have stanzas, so I’ll just stop it and talk when I feel it’s convenient I guess.

Caught between the worlds

of vintage and modern

and I’m not sure who

I should choose to be.

Hm. This feels...stoic. Like, it’s got an idea, but it isn’t really conveying it well. It’s blocky and very hard to read, like it kind of just feels like a block of text, and the fact that it’s supposed to make you feel something but doesn’t sticks out like a sore thumb.

Things seem to change so quickly

if I blink

it’s all suddenly different.

Nothing’s the same anymore

but my face hasn’t changed since

elementary school.

Something I really look for in poetry is a distinct sense of style. Even more important than that, an understanding of that techniquue. This was my third poem, so I obviously didn’t have that style that people recognize me by today, and I won’t hold that against younger me (though that’s why the poem feels that stoic-ness). But technique is also something I really don’t have a grasp on here, either.

Now, I’m seventeen years old. I’m in high school. I won’t pretend I’m a master at technique because I’m just not. However, looking at just these few lines I’m seeing the area I was especially unsure of was, more likely than not, punctuation. I can’t tell if I truly didn’t know though or if I was trying for a specific style, so can I just...I’ve seen this on prose and wtw as well--it’s okay to punctuate poems. it’s okay to use commas at the ends of lines. Punctuate the crap out of that baby, you’re not breaking any rules. I do write a lot now with different punctuation styles, and that’s cool to do as well, but I recommend learning to write poems with proper punctuation so at least you know it.

“Learn the rules like a pro so you can break the like an artist.” -Pablo Picasso

Tell me my aesthetic is old news

so I have to go find a new one

until that too is

today’s yesterday.

Filter my pictures and

filter my life.

“I’ve got more issues than

Vogue.”

Why do we say it? (Not sure, but I’ll say it too.)

Now I think we can all tell that this is where I really started to experiment. On one hand, I look at this and go hfygdjufkyflihatemyyoungerself but on another hand it’s kind of cute. Bad, yes. God, it’s awful. But it’s like watching a toddler finger paint. Messy, bad, a lot to pick up, but sweet.

That said: Notice how I decided to start varying line length here? Yeah, that can work sometimes if you do it right, but it’s hard and I just didn’t have the skill level at this point. Better luck next time, little Ri. Also, the quote. Putting a quote in a poem is something I’m still not exactly sure the rules on, but whether it’s writing faux pas or not, it is something that’s really, REALLY hard to do. I still can’t really do it and keep the flow of a poem. This feels so out of place--like, it’s not, the subject is fine, but it just feels wrong--and the way I put “Vogue” as its own line is just. Not a mood. And the parentheses? Well, I’m still a bit guilty of using too many parentheses, but these ones feel very heavy on the end of this line. They’re fine I suppose (like, there are worse things to worry about in this segment) but I say give them a line of their own.

People say I’m pretty

but I don’t know. If people were pretty

why would we need filters?

They call me basic,

a vsco girl.

When I try to be deep,

I fail.

It’s all meaningless.

I’ve trained myself

to be meaningless

and a fake

and a copy.

Huh. This honestly all feels...incredibly fake to me. Like I’m sure I felt some of this to an extent, but...I can’t really tell. Maybe I used too many cliches to make it feel like it’s actually a person’s feelings?

But on the other hand, now that I think of it, nobody in my entire life has called me basic. Vsco girl? Okay, yes maybe a little, but nobody’s called me that. That’s something I’ve done myself. Also, I never remember thinking people “needed” filters.

This is something I’ve learned in writing--if you don’t feel what you’re doing to some degree, it’ll show. Feel it. Own it. Don’t halfway do it, embrace the emotions. That’s one of the joys of writing and why it’s so therapeutic to so many people.

Whatever. (Not like I have

feelings. I don’t.)

As vsco would say,

Guess I’ll die then.

There I go again with the parentheses. Also, what’s inside them is just...r/imfourteenandthisisdeep, but I was actually fifteen. And where I broke that line feels really awkward. But I’ll give myself this--I kinda dig the snarkiness in the last line. That’s kind of cute.

All in all, this poem is...rough. If this wasn’t already bordering on 1500 words I’d try and rewrite it in my style today and with slightly better technique. Oh well, another project for another day, perhaps.

I hope you enjoyed this because I know I certainly did. I’d be more than willing to do another one of these or maybe make a throwback thursday series in the new year (hmmm...) but that’s all for now! Hope your day went well and thanks for hopping on the crazy train for day three with me. All the best Saturday night vibes to you.

xx- Riley

If any of you read my wtw before I left (and then came back because I'm a lonely sucker for writing praise and online friendships) you might have seen I responded to one of their prompts which was to list my quarantine playlist. Fun prompt, it might even still be there if you want. But anyway--what if we multiplied that, hmm?

What if we did that? *snarky smile*

Act i~ Coming of Age Kind of Picturesque/Young, Wild and Free (January 1-March 18, 2020)

i'm so tired by Lauv ft. Troye Sivan- Dear Carly, thanks for turning the beginning of my roaring 20's into a roaring, Great Gatsby style wonderland where every light is purple and every drink is held with pinkies up. We always listened to Lauv and Taylor Swift, especially her lover album. You might've loved Taylor Swft more than me. That's crazy. But we shouted this song the loudest in your car that the people next to us might've heard.

We made so many plans for the year, remember? We were going to go outside of Annapolis to that slam poetry bar and you'd tape it and Mel and I'd be the youngest poets there but we'd get the most applause. You were going to take me to college just to see the big library, and then I'd help you study to get your white coat.

I saw on facebook that you got your white coat and I'm really proud of you. I wish you'd return my calls.

Dear Winter by AJR- Dear Mrs. Lohr, I miss you. I miss the quiet moments in the back of the theater room and painting six foot fiddles. I miss saying my lines really fast so I could just go sit with you and this song. I miss you teaching me art techniques and if I ever see you again I promise I'll let you hug me--I feel bad now that I didn't before, but how could we know, right? Thanks for looking at pictures of my crush and my prom dress and my prom plans with him that he broke my heart before, thanks for not telling my mom all of that, and being there during my existential crises and breakdowns over paint. I'll fix my sculpture someday.

I'll let you hug me if I see you again--I might hug you first. I miss you, Mrs. Lohr. Thanks for being the best teacher in the world.

Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi- Dear Aunt B, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'd rush through my lines in your play to go work paint sets. I'm sorry it probably seemed like I quit theatre midway through the year and the only thing there was my presence. In my little brain I liked to think you were all-seeing. You saw everything, my emotions and how I was growing and changing and I thought by quitting theatre I'd just found myself, that's that. It was just a step.

I was so scared to tell you everything. We're talking again, but you still don't know what feels like anything about who I am.

You are not all-seeing. If you were, you'd have seen me crying in the bathroom the day you left teaching. You never said you were leaving the co-op, but I knew. I just knew. I blamed myself for that and put this song on repeat for hours when I got home.

You're not mad at me. I don't think you ever were. But it's still okay to say sorry, and Aunt B, I'm really really sorry.

Location by Khalid- Dear Sidney, you gave me the best morning of my life on February 10, 2020. I think you always think I'm joking when I say that because you tend to remind me that the whole sneaking out thing got me grounded, but it was only the rest of the week, and besides, it was so worth it. The mist and the popcorn you stole and I hummed this song and talked about having my heart broken and you told me about how you're sure you'll be a pastor's wife and I was fresh off of the flu and five pounds less and everything feels like a fever dream now.

I was talking about it yesterday and my mom didn't even remember at first, it seems so long ago. But it was real. I know, you know. It was real. It was the best, realest morning and I want to be able to live like that again someday.

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift- Dear Seth, our relationship fell apart and I think I learned a lot from you. You were the first relationship that was more than a crush--we weren't quite together but we weren't just open for the taking. We were reserved for each other and it was so comfortable. I miss it still sometimes, I miss the staring and the careful-talk and the screaming and fighting over the fact that you won't read a book--I see now we only wanted the best for each other. I wish you all the best still.

We can finally be friends and talk and not feel sad now. It isn't weird anymore. I'm glad it happened, though. I'm glad it ended slow and painful. I'm glad we're alive, and you can be my first love,

This song got me through it all. Now it just makes me dance--New Year's Day reminds me most, but it's not sad anymore. You never liked sad. I'm not sad, you'd like that. It's nostalgic, we still see each other in the stars at night just like it used to be, but we aren't in love.

The last of the happy ended. Our relationship, and the world.

All the best to you all, stay safe and healthy, okay?

xx- Riley

On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?

Mmm, six. And five eighths, just to keep it interesting.

Describe yourself in a hashtag?

#overworked

If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?

I mean, that’s a little gross and I quit acting last year, but hypothetically...either Daveed Diggs or 2008 era Patrick Dempsey

If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?

She’s A Mess!

What’s one thing people don’t know about you?

I’m unbeatable at four square. No, seriously.

What’s your wakeup ritual?

Stare at the cieling and kind of plot my day out in my head, then I get up, get dressed, do my hair, eat, brush my teeth, and get started.

What’s your go to bed ritual?

Watch Taylor Swift interviews or listen to conspiracies for about 30 minutes and then turn on white noise or Sade’s “Lovers Rock” and it puts me right to sleep. Literally I’ve pavlov’s dogged myself with that album and a certain white noise playlist, it’s insane.

What’s your favorite time of day?

I’m not always awake for it, but I love early, early morning when I can just be alive but nobody expects anything of me.

What is one thing no one knows about you?

*shakes head* Shhhhh...

Dream country to visit?

Greece. Or Italy. Or Egypt.

What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?

Finding out Summer ’08 (one of my plays) was the all-time highest scoring play in a competition.

Heels or flats/sneakers?

Heels, but it’s more of a wishful thing.

Vintage or new?

Vintage, I just wish I could afford it.

Who do you want to write your obituary?

My future husband, with my siblings and closest friends.

Style icon?

Say what you want, but Kim K.

What are three things you can’t live without?

Literally: water, oxygen, shelter. Figuratively, probably my family & friends, music, and books.

What’s one ingredient you put in everything?

Old Bay.

What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?

Kim Kardashian, Kamala Harris, and Taylor Swift.

What’s your biggest fear in life?

Not getting to tell people all that they mean to me before I lose them.

Window or aisle seat?

Both sound equally unpleasant, but I guess window.

What’s your current TV obsession?

Gilmore Girls, (the old) Unsolved Mysteries, and Selena: the Series

Favorite app?

Probably spotify

Secret talent?

Voices and celebrity/cartoon/character impressions

Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?

Shared my writing with someone whose opinion I knew could break me.

How would you define yourself in three words?

Sensitive, intuitive, perfectionistic.

Favorite piece of clothing you own?

I have this pair of high top Converse I found at a thrift store that are printed with watercolor looking orange and yellow lotus flowers. You can tell they’re at least a little vintage because the little logo patch is leather.

Must have clothing item everyone should have?

Black joggers. They’re comfy and go with everything.

Superpower you would want?

To be able to see inside people. If I could do that I’d become a doctor and help catch disease easily.

What’s inspiring you in life right now?

The fact that even though not a lot might change, a new beginning is coming soon.

Best piece of advice you’ve received?

Everyone defines success differently, so don’t get caught up too much with someone else’s. Yours will come at its own pace.

Best advice you’d give your pre-teenage self?

Your middle school grades don’t matter.

A book that everyone should read?

James McBride’s “The Color of Water”

What would you like to be remembered for?

Making the world a better, safer, kinder place for everyone.

How do you define beauty?

A truly kind heart with good intentions and love for others

What do you love most about your body?

My brain. It’s so full of ideas and memories.

Best way to take a rest/decompress?

Hot chocolate and bestdressed videos

Favorite place to view art?

A classroom. So many different perspectives to listen to.

If your life were a song, what would the title be?

Peppermint tea

If you could master one instrument, what would it be?

Realistically, guitar. But I’ve always wanted to learn saxophone.

If you had a tattoo, where would it be?

My rib

Dolphins or koalas?

Koalas~ so fluffy and adorable!

What’s your spirit animal?

Probably an elephant. They’re meek and sensitive, but their trumpeting can be heard miles away.

Best gift you’ve ever received?

Life. Salvation. Friendship. Family. But if we’re talking material things, I adore my guitar.

Best gift you’ve ever given?

Support. And a signed Dodie vinyl.

What’s your favorite board game?

Life

What’s your favorite color?

Red. But I wear more blue because it’s safer looking.

Least favorite color?

Mmm...anything neon. Too bright.

Diamonds or pearls?

Diamonds, I love little tiny ones. They’re so classy.

Drugstore makeup or designer?

I’m allergic to a lot, plus I honestly just feel like it’s unnecessary and I don’t like to spend money on it so drugstore I guess.

Blow-dry or air-dry?

Air dry. My hair is so thick and I don’t have the patience.

Pilates or yoga?

Never tried either!

Coffee or tea?

Tea. Especially peppermint tea.

What’s the weirdest word in the English language?

Weird. It never looks right.

Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

All chocolate. I don’t care at all. But white chocolate is a no.

Stairs or elevator?

Elevator.

Summer or winter?

Winter. I love chilly weather.

You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?

Fried rice with teriyaki chicken.

A desert you don’t like?

Apple pie. But not the handpies, those are good.

A skill you’re working on mastering?

Patience. Legitimate excitement for other people’s accomplishments.

Best thing to happen to you today?

There was bacon at lunch and it was really good. Like, I’m more of a sausage person but this was REALLY good.

Worst thing to happen to you today?

So many deadlines. Ugh.

Best compliment you’ve ever received?

Being told I have a beautiful soul.

Favorite smell?

Verbeena lotion. My mom used to wear it when I was little and it takes me back.

Hugs or kisses?

Hugs.

If you made a documentary, what would it be about?

I plan on making one actually, about multi level marketing and pyramid schemes.

Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

I cry at everything, but act three of Our Town made me sob so hard I couldn’t see the pages.

Lipstick or lip gloss?

Red lipstick.

Sweet or savory?

Savory.

Girl crush?

Early 2000′s Lauren Graham.

How you know you’re in love?

I don’t know if that’s something that can be put into words...it’s just a feeling, it makes your chest warm and you just have this deep joy inside. It’s like you think nothing can ever match this, and you’re right. I’ve been in love three times, and each time was so incredibly different, but I always feel warm and safe inside, and I think that’s what it feels like.

Song you can listen to on repeat?

New Year’s Day, currently.

If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?

Donald Trump. I’d do what needs to be done and make sure everything’s being taken care of the actual correct way.

What are you most excited about at this time in your life?

Moving forward. The future is right in front of me.

Your go to for having a good laugh?

Saturday Night Live! God, I love Tina and Amy especially. An iconic duo.

Your affirmation for today?

Walk your path at a good pace, but don’t hurt yourself. You’ll get where you need to be.

For my cousins--

for M, I cant wait to watch you grow up.

12.17.20

<3

My mom's best friend is Becky. I could have called her Miss Becky or Mrs. C, but after a summer day of driving down the beltway and me showing her, from the passenger seat of her twelve passenger van, which ukulele chords I could play on repeat, she christened me a class act and herself as my cool aunt. She's been Aunt B to me and my siblings ever since, but I always take a secret pride in knowing she was mine the very first.

    That was the summer after seventh grade, and since then, Aunt B has played many roles--voice teacher, theater teacher, math tutor (that didn't last long), party host, personal thrift shopper, editor, and summertime chauffeur to me, my siblings, and her children, who we call our cousins.

    I never know how many cousins I should say I have, if the number is three or four, but it's not really four until the seventeenth. Or it could even be five if we're counting that way. But then if it's five, who's to say the photos on the wall are just cousins I never met? I only met my biological cousin twice, but before the pandemic hit I'd see my unrelated ones nearly every other day. See, these are questions you can't answer. I've never asked Aunt B what she thought. I don't know if she'd even be able to give me a definite reply because I think we view family the same way a lot of the time. 

    That's another role my Aunt B plays. She fosters. 

   I've come to learn that people think of fostering in either one of two ways. They either think of cute babies and toddlers, or they can only think of the hard goodbyes, which do inevitably happen. Every once in a while I'll meet someone who commends Aunt B for being "so brave." Those kind will throw bless your heart's like confetti and ask if she's met any menacing teens yet. I'm briefed on all the responses, all the "it's not easy's," the slightly annoyed "Aunt B doesn't foster teens yet but the ones she's met seemed nice," and the "I'm sure you could's," not because I'm sure that person I just met could, but there already aren't enough foster parents to go around and why drive away interest? I've learned not to tell them about the hard stuff, you don't delve into the goodbyes or the things you can't just look for and find on the surface. You don't scare the potential. To the ones who aren't potential, I've been taught to be polite. Look them in the eye and answer every question I can. Shake hands. Take every side eye on the way out with a grain of salt because I'll know I did my part well.

    And I don't spite them, they all mean well. Every "bless your heart" comes from gratitude. The "you're a saint's" come from fear. I have better things to worry about than the glances we get walking into a restaurant or when we all sit together at the park, eyes glazing us all over like we're a memory match game with a few missing tiles. I know the pattern like a constellation, I know if my family isn't there I'll get mistaken for another daughter because despite my darker hair and smaller eyes, the differences are slighter. I know that they glaze over me, Aunt B, and the two older girls, and stop on the two youngest daughters before looking around, wondering if they missed someone. Out the restaurant window, across the sidewalk, which car did we come from, which store, which aisle? But I don't spite them--I can't. Most of the time what they do isn't conscious.

    Human brains are wired to detect change. Our hardware is made of common sense and problem solving. We look out and see a group of ten and when only eight of them look alike, we want to know why--it's natural. The differences between my cousins are confined to a few things. Two prefer unicorns, two like ponies. Three like their food warm, one can't stand heat in her mouth. One loves science, one math, one social studies, and one isn't yet in school but she loves being read to. One is a carbon copy of Aunt B, with thick blonde hair and deep, knowing eyes. One looks more like her father, she even has his gestures and unmatched wit. The other two have beautiful brown skin and curls in their hair. One of them loves to be active and play sports, the other likes to sing along to music. They are all my cousins, none of them biological to me. That changes nothing. 

    My family is not a blood-ties matter. It isn't dependent on if you have your mom's cheekbones or the frame of your father. It matters not what we look like, nor who we resemble. So don't ask me about my cousins and put a color in front. I'll ask you don't stare as we walk down the street, but if you slip up I understand. Maybe you haven't seen it like me, you haven't seen the tired eyes and the pleads to watch the kids so Aunt B can sleep a half hour on the guest bed. You haven't seen the house cleaning till it's spotless, the visitations, you haven't felt stares on your back just because of the people you eat with. Maybe you haven't had to hide your balled fists in your lap at the first hundred starers or direct a shiny smile at the floor. I'm not even angry for myself; I've been stared at before. I'm angry that these little girls will grow up getting stared at just for being loved.

    Aunt B has chosen to teach my cousins about their race. She believes it's an important thing that they know who they are and that there's a beautiful culture behind it, and I agree with her. They will grow up hearing names like Rosa Parks and George Floyd. They will learn that the more melanin you have means the more danger you’ll find yourself in. They will learn about injustice but I pray it may be something they're pardoned from experiencing, and that our society grows more loving, more accepting, more kind. That we can partially rewire our circuit boards and see family before difference and unity before race.

    The girls in my class used to tell me Aunt B wasn't my real aunt, as if I wasn't aware. I'd retort with "Don't talk to me about my family." But now I'm singing a different tune. Do talk to me about my family. Go ahead and ask questions about my family, because questions garner answers, and answers can be detrimental to change. And when you find something saying that blood ties draw the line of importance and likeness forges connection, I'll be here ready to listen and decide for myself.

    But for now, let me play with my four beautiful, smart, sweet, wonderful cousins and any more who come our way.

Quick disclaimer: this is in no way me trying to brag! I’d be doing this anyway in my journal but since this series is kind of turning into me just journaling to you, I figured I’d just give it a go here. I loe and treasure all the growth I’ve had this year and none of that would be possible without you guys, so this is merely a recap for me to look back on someday and sigh.

Most of these pieces are not currently published. If you’d like to see one just ask! Tomorrow is throwback thursday after all :)

20) The worst of the best. The best of the worst. The smartest guy on the football team. The tallest dwarf. ”Satellites,” one of the very first of my actually good poems. It had structure and read like it was written for an English class assignment. At this point, I was trying to master technical skill so I could find style. This was one of those, and this really skyrocketed my stylistic evolution.

19) Getting an honorable mention in the one and only N.’s contest was something I was really proud of for a really long time. The piece that got me there? The first of my many Gatsby inspired ones, ”forgive me daisy, for i have sinned.”

18) ”humans” was the first piece I wrote specifically to be spoken word. I even started to animate it...but kind of maybe quit a little bit. Oh well.

17) “but what if i don’t think everyone’s an artist?” is the piece that made my Write the World account go boom. It nearly tripled my audience every time I reposted it. I look back now and cringe, but it can’t have been as bad as I make it out to be.

16) ”yes sir yes sir yes sir we should be ashamed.” I thought I had something with this one, I really did. And in a sense, I was right. This piece held...a lot of firsts for me, and at the time I genuinely thought it would be my peak. I had a hard time writing anything else after it, and kept feeling like I had to top myself, which is actually a pretty common thing for me. Anyway, first wtw comp entry, first poem about a controversial issue, first time really playing with format...maybe it’s just up here for the nostalgia value but I was pretty dang proud.

15) I still can’t decide if I think Sena placed me first for this in her comp just because she’s one of my best friends or not, but it reads like “satellites” does. Clean. Pretty. ”and in the wake of tragedy she learns again to feel” for 15 :)

14) ”melinda to boo” was a major stylistic breakthrough for me, and was inspired by a real person. Not the most interesting read, but it was like a seed, and everything after it started to flourish a bit more.

13) ”compilations.” I go back and read this and it feels like a knock off Dodie song, but in a kind of good way. It’s warm, but I don’t think many people got the premise of it, so in that respect, it might have been a fail.

12) ”i wonder if anyone ever used ‘jesus wept’ as their confirmation verse--i wonder what their mother thought”--an ode to my ex best friend on her birthday. I still read this one and can feel every emotion I poured out when I wrote it. And I know that’s likely just because I wrote it so I know, but let my have my fantasy in which this is good, okay?

11) Short lines aren’t something I’m particulary good at, nor am I partial to them, but I went through a phase and the outcome of that was ”because Julius Caesar is everything like high school.” It was definitely an interesting one, and I can still read it without cringing, which is always a plus.

10) ”I am but a perfect fragment of life for my mother’s friends to gawk at.” This was my first piece in anha’s highlights (hey, remember those?) and my first time experimenting with this style. This was one of the last real weeks before quarantine and having it documented like this and getting to hear feedback on it means the world. It was seeing traction continuously, too, straight up to when I unpublished it.

9) The second of my more nonfiction-y helpful posts, ”I don’t care if school is over, educate youself.” Lots of great dialogue added in the comments, and that’s always my favorite thing to see.

8) Ah, yes. The wave-starting, ever present "My best friend Riley gets sad sometimes." If I'm telling you the truth, I wasn't crazy about this one, and I'm still not. But what I am crazy about is the nearly 25+ works it inspired across wtw--now THAT felt insane.

7) The Harper Lee poem that started it all: "I do not like the word 'dead' but that is what you are." From the satellites era, very obviously seen when it's read, but by far the best of that time.

6) Can you believe I turned this in? Yeah, me neither, but the (dare I say) most well known art teachers on wtw finally got her assignment, though I don't think "another artistic statement so again i shall bleed" was really what she was looking for. Oh well, the sculptures long broken anyway. *sighs*

5) Written from my Outer Banks bedroom (where they took me end of season and I loved it so much), "in fall we break." Those opening lines had been floating around for what felt like ages and I was so glad to finally have something to put them with. This was not only my formal return to poems on wtw, but also the best vacation souvenir I've got (though my jars of shells are pretty darn cool).

4) One of my most popular pieces and something I've had to refrain from putting back on wtw-- "the brightest purple girls," or, my letter to Harper Lee. I don't ever like to say I wish I'd won something, but God, I so wish this would've at least gotten an honorable mention (and I tbh really wish Jun Lei's would have won because that one was perfection). Even so, something I was proud of.

3) "Sid, to read on the way to your sister." This one was a ride, I'll tell you that. I didn't ever think I'd post it, much less send it places. To Sid (who doesn't read this, but idc), if my writing's this good when you travel, imagine how great it'd be if you *ahem* took me with you. Kidding, kidding, but #3 felt like a comfy spot for this.

2) This may seem silly or shallow (and I won’t say it isn’t) but having ”Plagiarism, Citations, and other fun things you may have forgotten in English Class” reach the position of most-liked piece on wtw is something I consider one of my greatest writing accomplishments. I definitely wrote that out of a direct need I saw, but was hesitant to post it (sweet, sweet little uncontroversial Riley...lol). I’m so thankful for a few writers who helped convinced me! I had no idea what it would turn into. :)

1) And here we are. The best of the best. The top. And maybe we’re expecting this, maybe you saw it coming all along, but by far the thing I was proudest of this year had to be ”Burning Things like Trucks and my White Privilege.” It was edgy. It was new for me, style-wise. It was new for me topic-wise, and you guys responded to it with such personal stories and that made it all the better. All your life you get told your words can change the world--I don’t think this piece even got close to doing that. But as cheesy as it sounds, it’s the one that made me believe that maybe someday I could.

Honorable Mentions:

"a history of growing up"

"i make her nurseries and my body tears them down"

"mrs. l asked us to write an artistic statement so i came up with this"

"these are the homes we've forgotten get lived in"

Comment down below how you discovered my writing and I'll reciprocate lol--if I've known you long enough maybe you'll get a top ten of your own.

Thank you all for this whirlwind year. I wouldn't be where I am without you <3 All my love and all the best to you--

xx, Riley

Oof you killed me. I felt...slightly called out at some of these. But anyway, happy friday. My SAT prep book came in the mail today and it's about 4 inches thick (11 inches long too) so that'll be a journey. Apparently I'm supposed to read it 2-4 times before the test.

Anyway, this was fun. You'll see I kind of looped some together just to kind of expedite things.

You’re rich/you’re poor/rich but act poor/poor but act rich

Hm...I'm not really either. I think I'm pretty strictly middle-class (well, my family is. I'm still technically a child and I've got about $200 in my personal bank account, but y parents have an account for me too and idk anything about that). But anyway, I don't think I act poor or rich, either. I think I just kind of act the same as most people in my area. Right in the middle. Idk.

Money is something I've definitely had to take a long time to understand--my friends a lot of the time had more than us and as a kid I got it, but like not really. I think I didn't really truly get it until this year when I realized most colleges were...going to be just completely out of the question. It was an interesting realization. Melancholic, but not sad. I've just kind of tried to count myself as lucky since then, like I have what I have and that's something to be thankful for and not take for granted.

You brag about your writing because you know you’re talented

I think everyone slips up, so I definitely have in the past, but for 99% of the time: no. I honestly don't consider myself to be a super talented person and I've seen so many better writers so like...there's really not much to brag about in my opinion.

You’re an only child/you’re a middle child

I got like 2 people assuing I'm a middle kid which...I don't understand, but okay. No, I'm not a middle or an only, I'm actually the oldest of three (I have a brother and a sister), plus my cousins who I used to see enough that it felt like they were siblings too.

You don’t actually like writing but continue it because you get attention online for it

No way. I really do love writing and it's never about the online recognition. I genuinely do just write for myself, sharing it is just for me too. Like how social media girls say their accounts are like diaries, this is almost that for me. My writing highlights. But if you took down all these sites tomorrow, my life wouldn't really be affected. Sure, I'd miss talking to a few of you, but I'd keep writing. Always.

You’re popular irl/you’re unpopular irl

It depends on the group, but typically I think I'm somewhere in the middle. Not super popular, but not someone people won't want to hang out with because they're uncool (I'm only that person at one place) but I think I'm usually either in the generally liked crowd or the nice girls (if we want to use tiktok labels) and I like both of those.

You’re a picky eater

Kind of. Like, I'll eat a lot of things if it's just what someone's cooking but I don't actually like a lot. Only a few things I'll flat out refuse though--chili (there was an incident), squash, and anything with peppers in it.

You secretly think you’re heather/the main character but would never say it out loud

No way. I feel like my best friend Hayden is definitely Heather and my other best friend Sena is a main character, though. I don't know, maybe I'm like a side character or something lol.

You prefer deep talk w strangers than small talk with best friends

A hundred percent. Does anyone else find it so much easier to just be super deep with strangers because you feel like they won't remember it or see you again--or is that just me?

You secretly but not secretly want to become a warrior princess

Mmm...no. I'd rather be a lawyer and a pen-name poet who wears vintage clothes and hangs out in a dusky study writing at night and maybe sings jazz at karaoke. I want a husband and a daughter and I want a tiny wedding on a rooftop on New Years' Eve that my best friends and their kids can plan and a simple but important life. I don't want to be a warrior or a princess or really any combination of those two things.

Today was a wrapping day at my house and you know what that means (well, maybe you don’t): movies. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something so serene about wrapping presents in a dimly lit room while watching movies. Maybe it’s just nostalgia idk but there are a few movies I LOVE to wrap to, and I’m going to just share those today along with some other picks from my family.

National Lampoons Christmas Vacation (I share this pick with my dad and grandma)

This movie is hilarious and slightly inappropriate but still somehow charming and I just love that. This one’s fun when my siblings have gone to bed and it’s just my parents and I up wrapping gifts for them, we’ve done that every year since I was eleven and I just love it.

Elf

This is like, the pinnacle of family Christmas movies. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like Elf and I’m pretty sure I can recite just about the whole script to you, and so can my nine year old sister.

Lady Bird (my personal pick)

Don’t come at me, okay? This is like, my favorite movie of all time. It feels so warm and like every time I watch it I feel like I’ve got an old cardigan (hehe) on or something. And for bonus points, it does have a Christmas scene. Please watch this. I felt so seen and even though I can’t guarantee you will too, I can promise your life will be better for it.

Home Alone (my sister’s pick)

I feel like nobody ever gets super into the Home Alone movies, but when they’re on everyone just sort of gravitates to the couch. Anyway though, I prefer the first, my brother likes the second, nobody’s ever seen the third, and my sister claims to love them all and that spin off one called “The Holiday Heist.”

The Sandlot (my brother’s pick)

So this one isn’t festive either, but I agree with him 100%. The Sandlot is a masterpiece. The nostalgia in it is just...through the roof, and the quote “heroes get remembered, legends never die” is my motto (You can laugh at me for that). I just...it always leaves me wanting to simultaneously cry, write another play, and just watch it again.

Hallmark movies and Sweet Home Alabama (my mom’s pick)

My mom and I are total suckers for anything the slightest bit Hallmarky. These pair well with Lindt truffles and cocoa. Added bonus: you can almost always guess the plot of the movie just based on the title.

My sister wants me to point out that she also enjoys “Samantha: an American Girl Holiday” but I haven’t seen that in years and don’t have any commentary on it lol. Anyway, comment down below your recs because we’ve got a LOT of wrapping left! (Tonight is Greta Gerwig’s “Little Women.” Yay!)