Spring Break

I don't usually have spring break plans. Before my senior year, I would just stay at home or hang out with friends. As a social recluse, spring break was nothing more than a time to stay at home and enjoy my favorite games or write.

In my senior year of high school, our class board proposed a trip to Mexico but... no one was thrilled to go. We felt that the area of Mexico was unsafe and just an opportunity for students to lose control.

So instead of a trip, I worked during Spring Break at Taco Bell. I jumped from six hour shifts to nine hour shifts and I regretted it.

This year, I fear it might be the same.

Offensive Langauge

Words by themselves don't usually upset me, nor phrases. It's the tone and inflection behind the words that I find offensive.
As someone with Aspergers, I have struggled constantly to decipher the meaning behind peoples words. Are they merely joking, or are they trying to be mean? Am I the butt of a joke or is it all in good fun?
I can't tell the difference when people speak. I don't know if they are angry at me or because of something else. I don't know how to pick out subtle sarcasm. I don't take jokes like everyone else.
I struggle everyday that I have to interact with people. Because I can never tell what the implication behind their words are.
I've gotten upset when people make jokes about my family or art. I get upset when my father says barbed comments that he claims to be 'jokes'. 
I automatically find language offensive because I don't know the difference. All I know is to be angry because I'm upset. I'm upset because I don't know when people are mean or having fun.
Words don't make me mad, it's the meaning behind them that do.

Guilty Pleasure

A guilty pleasure of mine has, and always will be, horses.

Ever since I was a young child, I was obsessed with horses. I would constantly beg my mom to take me to a friends barn to see them, even begged to ride them if I could. I would carry multiple books about horses, memorizing reams of information. Countless notebooks were filled with stick figure doodles of horses, my fantasies drawn out in blurred pencil.
I was often shamed and bullied for my obsession. Every report was bound to have some mention of a horse or even be about them. I would only talk about horses and was confused as to why the other children would ignore me. Years later, I've realized that this was partly because of Aspergers. It's not uncommon of those with Aspergers to fixate on a particular subject or item, whereas a normal child might express interest at a basic level.
I gradually learned how to express my interest without coming off too zealous and how to funnel it. I spent many years collecting lifelike figurines and Breyer brand models. I found comfort in their realistic beauty and forms as a way to compensate for my lack of a horse. And through the years, they have been a constant. Because even though my interests grow and expand, horses have always been part of me. They are what comforted me when I was alone, they are what drove me to work hard, and they are why I became an artist.