As I got out of the car, something hit my head as I walked out of the garage, making a walloping sound on my head. It felt like a bird had left its mark on my head, and I moved my fingers on top of my head to see if that was the case.

But instead of feeling something sticky and revolting, I felt the moistness of water. It was something I had not felt or seen in Houston for two months and six days.

Rain? Was it rain? Was it? Was it? My heart began to thump. It couldn’t be rain!

But even as I said the words, I knew with a growing happiness that it was rain. As another drop of water landed in front of me, I heard the sounds of raindrops hitting leaves, the soft rustling sound I loved to listen to whenever I slept.

The drought had ended.

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It has not rained in Houston for 66 days. That is almost one fifth of the year. The last two days are record temperatures: it’s supposed to be 99 degrees Fahrenheit.

Today it is 105 degrees. 105 degrees is six to eight degrees warmer than the average body temperature. It is like breathing air off of the top of a stove: both humid and hot.

I will say what has been said over and over again: the one biggest problem of Houston, TX is the deadly combination of sogginess and heat during the summer. I love Houston, but I also love air conditioning: it’s the staple sound you hear when you walk in a neighborhood at noon: the rumbling and whining of systems at work, delivering cool air to their owners.

It’s not always very comfortable, even with air conditioning. I would moan when I got in the car and the searing heat threatened to cook me alive. It was something I had to do almost every day of the summer: get in the car for swimming practice. Most of the time, only the thought of being able to dive into the swimming pool kept me in my seat.

Then I realized that this “pain” was nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to someone else. His name is Nathan. Picture him: a swimmer who goes to the same practices I do. Tall, lean, sort of Norwegian. I leave at 2:20 for my 2:30 swimming practice. He leaves at 1:40.

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It was hot. It was so hot that if I accidentally spilled water outside, it would disappear when I counted to five. It was so hot that the weatherman made the entire population of Houston whimper when he explained that there was a pressure system over us that prevented any rain.

Therefore, it wasn’t surprising that under every roof, the air conditioners were going strong. It was uncertain exactly what was going on in everyone else’s house, but it didn’t matter. Our family was together, for once, and we were enjoying it.

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“Okay, mom, I’m coming down,” I told my mom, getting ready for my orthodontist appointment. I went through a checklist mentally. Clothing? Check. Glasses? Check. Cell phone? Check. Watch? Hold on a sec.

I grabbed my watch and was about to strap it on when I noticed that the strap had broken. Where there should have been solid resin was a crack. I frowned. Although it was a $25 watch, it was still the best watch I had.

A year ago, I lost my prized watch after a year of use, so I bought another one of the same brand, but the new one never performed as well as my watch did, so when my friend finally found my old one in his drawer (somehow) I began using it again, even though it was of a light blue color that some people called “baby” blue.

I wanted to fix my prized watch, I thought to myself. That afternoon, I looked up their returns support number and called it.

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A human’s natural instinct is to be somewhere safe; it is this reason that people constantly search for security systems, banks that protect money however securely, and some people go as far as to carry weapons and pepper spray with them, all for what: protection.

Sometimes, the safety and stability does not come in forms of items or services. I was soon to discover that I had neglected some of the safeties that the world had given me: for one, gravity.

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My mom has an unnerving love for spicy things. Spicy tofu, spicy soup, spicy carrots; as long as it is spicy, she will eat it, guaranteed, because she grew up with peppers and spicy foods.

Furthermore, only the spiciest spicy sauce will do. She goes to exotic places, to the back of supermarkets, for a bit of supposedly the “spiciest” stuff in town. And because she’s eaten so much peppers, she never says anything is hot. Never.

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School has let out, and I find myself with more time than previously available. In the evenings recently, I have taken to watching bits of Home, twenty or so minutes at a time, for several evenings. The movie is released on the Internet.

Home is a film by Yann Arthus-Bertrand, an amazing director. The movie tells a story that happens not very far from our everyday lives, hence the name Home. But the story isn’t about your house, apartment, or living space: it talks about the Earth, the home every single bit of life and human lives together in.

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Summer has arrived again, and with every morning I wake, dwindling in the absence of my alarm clock’s normal sound, I realize that school is over for the first half of 2009.

I realize that my days as a sixth grader were over when the final bell for the year of 2008-2009 rang its final buzz. When I walked out of the building, without thinking about it, I was over with sixth grade. I was a second grade.

Being in seventh grade presents so many opportunities: no longer am I the youth of the school; I am in the middle, and upon arrival of the 2010-2011 year, I will be in eighth grade.

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Once, where there was hope, there was happiness.
There was peace, elegance, and beauty.
All around us, there were stunning clouds and exotic views.
Once, there was.

Where birds eagerly twittered, we were optimistic.
With every cry of laughter and song of joy,
we thought to ourselves with quiet chuckles,
“what a wonderful world this is!”

As the world evolved, we began to realize
that everything wasn’t good.
We didn’t try to fix what we had broke,
a fatal and drastic mistake.

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It is summertime again in Houston. Each day goes by, and every hour brings me closer to summer vacation: a time of bliss, of no school, and of no annoying alarm clocks. It is the period when we get to relax and have fun.

This year, I would be visiting China. I would be experiencing what a small village would look like, documenting it on camera. I would be visiting my grandparents, viewing towns, and going to all the sights.

Emphasis on would.

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It is immediately apparent in Houston when the summertime has arrived: the cool and crisp feel of spring is replaced with damp, humid heat. It is as if someone has laid a giant soggy towel right over the entire area.

Suddenly, staying inside with the air conditioner high seems preferable. It is hard to imagine friends saying “It’s so cold!” a month ago. The only thing being thought about: when will the suffering end?

It is in times like these when swimming outdoors can be properly enjoyed, I thought to myself. Swimming practice had a change of location, and instead of our indoor pool, we were swimming (just for today) in an outdoor pool.

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