I feel like I have learned new ways to approach an idea. I think that I am more comfortable with analytical pieces, such a thesis papers for MR. HINDLEY! but when it came to free-thinking pieces like the ones we had to do for composition it was harder for me to find new, fresh ways of thinking about something rather than using cliches and old things we've heard about so many times before. I think that's why the public interest essay was one of my stronger pieces because it was about a certain topic that you could write like a newspaper article or something. Conferencing about the dreading conclusion also helped me to think of several tactics of ending a piece, like full circle, or bringing up other questions/relating to past experiences, bleh something relative to the piece.
I think that my voice is slightly humorous. I have a "different" train of thought that comes through when I use humor to convey it. My writing basically sounds like me talking though sometimes I wish I sounded more "intellectual" and thought-provoking, like the people that use big words and whatnot. But then I think, "no actually I don't because that wouldn't be me, that'd be me trying to sound smarter and potentially making myself look like an idiot."
I still want to work on organization because sometimes I think that my papers could be better organized, other times I've used very effective organization, and it doesn't seem like a problem at all. I need to work on becoming more consistent with finding the right organization. Maintaining consistency in basically everything is really what I should be focusing on. For example, aside from organization, I've found that on some papers I used specific details in my descriptions, but in other parts and other papers I was vague. And although mentioned previously under the improvement category, I think that I can always continue to work on finding ways to develop a new look on things. new points of view that haven't been overused.
I've discovered that my "story" is a bit mundane, but what the heck, it's my story. I think the main topic reoccuring in my papers is school and dealing with the whole belief that what you do in high school is crucial to college which is then a deciding factor in your future, discussing about whether the general idea of "sucess" is really for everybody. In sophomore year I even remember writing about "what is success" when we were posed the question what is "quality" and the whole essential questions- "what kind of world is this" and "how should I live in it?" The whole "how should I live in it" question often relates to my "story" too.
Composition was interesting because many of the topics we had to write on were something I wouldn't have ever chosen to write about, such as the nature essay. It forced me to try new topics that weren't in my writer's "comfort zone".
Friday, May 25, 2007
the hardest decision ever... well one of the hardest anyway
I remember last, last Chapel when Mr. Dyke was our speaker. Mr. Dyke is probably the most interesting man I've ever heard when he reads something he wrote. Really. There was one section in his piece that gave us a moment to pause and answer like 15 true/false questions in our heads. Obviously, because it was Mr. Dyke, they were pretty thought-provoking questions that I sometimes couldn't answer. Or at least, couldn't confidently answer.
One that I really remember was that "I'd rather give up the ability to hear music than the ability to taste food" or something like that. At first I said false, but then I wasn't sure. Music was certainly important to me, I mean I go crazy whenever I forget my iPod. As of now, my iPod is currently broken so I'm practically in a sort of "hell". I really love to eat food, however, my reasoning was that if I couldn't taste, I wouldn't be tempted to gorge on tons of delicious, unhealthy foods that really aren't good for my diet. I thought that I wasn't able to taste, I could just focus on eating healthy, bland foods that everyone has a hard time eating normally because they're just so... blah. BUT HEALTHY! Then I realized that my main motivation behind this was because of society's obsession with "thin". Yes, I realize that I am not exactly "thin" but I'm satisfied with the way I am. I love food so much that it's impossible for me to go on a diet or stay away from foods that I love, especially when we go to fancy resturants. However, if I'm not able to even enjoy the flavor of the foods, I might as well try the whole "thin" thing and eat only healthy, low, low, low calorie foods. And that's why I picked losing taste over the ability to hear. HOWEVER, then I got to thinking that my reasoning sucked. I didn't pick it for the right reasons. If I totally disregarded the consequences of eating too much, and how society feels at being fat, I would pick food over music. Pretty sure. I sound like such a pig right now, but I think it's true. Of course, now that I acknowledge I sound like such a fat lard, it sent off some doubt, causing me to think about changing my opinion just so I don't sound so gluttonous and obese. But though I love my iPod, I realized that many people are born deaf and they're perfectly fine. Not too many people lose the ability to taste, though so that's gotta mean something in some kind of selective disease/natural selection-ish way. So I was stuck. Do I lose tasting because it's probably better for me in the long run or do I lose hearing because that's my personal opinion. It was a battle between logical rationale and personal interest. And since the question was to be answered by yourself without anyone hearing, I decided I would say that I'd rather lose hearing than taste.
Good thing Mr. Dyke moved on to the next question, otherwise I'd be experiencing a continuing dispute (with myself) between caring whether I sound like a fat lard or doing what I'd actually prefer to do... or at least what I think I'd want to do.
One that I really remember was that "I'd rather give up the ability to hear music than the ability to taste food" or something like that. At first I said false, but then I wasn't sure. Music was certainly important to me, I mean I go crazy whenever I forget my iPod. As of now, my iPod is currently broken so I'm practically in a sort of "hell". I really love to eat food, however, my reasoning was that if I couldn't taste, I wouldn't be tempted to gorge on tons of delicious, unhealthy foods that really aren't good for my diet. I thought that I wasn't able to taste, I could just focus on eating healthy, bland foods that everyone has a hard time eating normally because they're just so... blah. BUT HEALTHY! Then I realized that my main motivation behind this was because of society's obsession with "thin". Yes, I realize that I am not exactly "thin" but I'm satisfied with the way I am. I love food so much that it's impossible for me to go on a diet or stay away from foods that I love, especially when we go to fancy resturants. However, if I'm not able to even enjoy the flavor of the foods, I might as well try the whole "thin" thing and eat only healthy, low, low, low calorie foods. And that's why I picked losing taste over the ability to hear. HOWEVER, then I got to thinking that my reasoning sucked. I didn't pick it for the right reasons. If I totally disregarded the consequences of eating too much, and how society feels at being fat, I would pick food over music. Pretty sure. I sound like such a pig right now, but I think it's true. Of course, now that I acknowledge I sound like such a fat lard, it sent off some doubt, causing me to think about changing my opinion just so I don't sound so gluttonous and obese. But though I love my iPod, I realized that many people are born deaf and they're perfectly fine. Not too many people lose the ability to taste, though so that's gotta mean something in some kind of selective disease/natural selection-ish way. So I was stuck. Do I lose tasting because it's probably better for me in the long run or do I lose hearing because that's my personal opinion. It was a battle between logical rationale and personal interest. And since the question was to be answered by yourself without anyone hearing, I decided I would say that I'd rather lose hearing than taste.
Good thing Mr. Dyke moved on to the next question, otherwise I'd be experiencing a continuing dispute (with myself) between caring whether I sound like a fat lard or doing what I'd actually prefer to do... or at least what I think I'd want to do.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
disgusting
And there it was, right at eye level,writhing on its back in its last death throes. Digusting.
It was a cockaroach I doused in roach spray. Whenever I encounter a roach, it's like a freakin' adventure for me. I can feel my adreneline rush because they gross me out so much. I was talking on the phone, heading downstairs because it was midnight, and time for me to go to sleep. Approaching the second set of stairs there it was. A black stain on the nice ivory carpet. Antennae frantically waving, tasting the air. Front legs rubbing together as if it were cleaning itself. Like that's what it was. Everyone knows roaches are dirty, filthy...Disgusting.
I screamed and immediately shut up because I knew the neighbors would hear. The sound carries fast and far in my neighborhood, the windows perfect exists for secrets and key for eavesdroping. My scream didn't appear to bother the roach. It was still sitting there, waving waving its antennae. "Would it please stop?!?!? Please and thank you." I thought. The whole motion of it feeling its surroundings is what creeps me out. It's probably because of a past experience where I killed a roach and when I picked it up with many layers of napkin the antennae were still going crazy and then I could feel it squirming despite the thick bundle of napkin I had in my hand. I guess I didn't kill it completely. Disgusting.
I had to run around searching for the precious bottle of roach spray. It was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile my friend was laughing at me, a huge human, for making such a big deal about a little easily squashable bug. It was a boy, of course. I hopped over the step the roach was on twice, being really careful in case it should suddenly make a run for it. Those buggers move at lightning speed. When I finally found the spray- I swear I had looked at the coffee table- I made sure the spray was pointed properly. This one time, my sister had the spray and out of panic she sprayed herself by accident because she had it faced towards her. When I hit the roach dead on, it did what normal roaches do in reaction to encountering toxic chemicals. It spazzed out and began climbing the steps. I sprayed it a good 3 more times, unnecessarily saturating the carpet with spray. It seemed to have no effect but by then the roach had made its way to the top step, staggering, but still pretty damn fast. It hid amongst the assortment and clutter of shoes, finally retreating behind the shoe cabinent. Disgusting.
I knew I had hit it square on though. There was no way that sucker would live unless it was some kind of superroach. But then again, my mind flashed back to AP biology and resistance and mutation. What if my spray was outdated? Bugs are becoming more immune to spray these days. As I picked up the phone again I started telling my friend about how I was screwed because now there was going to be a roach carcass behind the shoe cabinent and I didn't want to wake up the next morning to peek behind the cabinent and find it. I heard the roach pitterpattering as its hairy legs spastically scratched the wooden cabinent. I could imagine the roach, reaching its final moments as it flailed around pitifully... or not because I didn't pity the thing at all. I bent down to rearrange my shoes that I moved out of the pathway of the bug but out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. I was eye level with the shoe cabinent and there was my besty friend, the ROACH, on its back, its spikey appendages pumping like it was bicycling with 6 legs. Oh man I felt so gross. I thought it had died already, but it had enough strength to climb the cabinent?!?! When it finally became still, I took many sheets of Kleenex and gingerly picked up the thing, holding it as far as possible from me and proceeded to flush it it in the toilet. GOODBYE forever!!!!!!!!! Oh man. DISGUSTING.
It was a cockaroach I doused in roach spray. Whenever I encounter a roach, it's like a freakin' adventure for me. I can feel my adreneline rush because they gross me out so much. I was talking on the phone, heading downstairs because it was midnight, and time for me to go to sleep. Approaching the second set of stairs there it was. A black stain on the nice ivory carpet. Antennae frantically waving, tasting the air. Front legs rubbing together as if it were cleaning itself. Like that's what it was. Everyone knows roaches are dirty, filthy...Disgusting.
I screamed and immediately shut up because I knew the neighbors would hear. The sound carries fast and far in my neighborhood, the windows perfect exists for secrets and key for eavesdroping. My scream didn't appear to bother the roach. It was still sitting there, waving waving its antennae. "Would it please stop?!?!? Please and thank you." I thought. The whole motion of it feeling its surroundings is what creeps me out. It's probably because of a past experience where I killed a roach and when I picked it up with many layers of napkin the antennae were still going crazy and then I could feel it squirming despite the thick bundle of napkin I had in my hand. I guess I didn't kill it completely. Disgusting.
I had to run around searching for the precious bottle of roach spray. It was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile my friend was laughing at me, a huge human, for making such a big deal about a little easily squashable bug. It was a boy, of course. I hopped over the step the roach was on twice, being really careful in case it should suddenly make a run for it. Those buggers move at lightning speed. When I finally found the spray- I swear I had looked at the coffee table- I made sure the spray was pointed properly. This one time, my sister had the spray and out of panic she sprayed herself by accident because she had it faced towards her. When I hit the roach dead on, it did what normal roaches do in reaction to encountering toxic chemicals. It spazzed out and began climbing the steps. I sprayed it a good 3 more times, unnecessarily saturating the carpet with spray. It seemed to have no effect but by then the roach had made its way to the top step, staggering, but still pretty damn fast. It hid amongst the assortment and clutter of shoes, finally retreating behind the shoe cabinent. Disgusting.
I knew I had hit it square on though. There was no way that sucker would live unless it was some kind of superroach. But then again, my mind flashed back to AP biology and resistance and mutation. What if my spray was outdated? Bugs are becoming more immune to spray these days. As I picked up the phone again I started telling my friend about how I was screwed because now there was going to be a roach carcass behind the shoe cabinent and I didn't want to wake up the next morning to peek behind the cabinent and find it. I heard the roach pitterpattering as its hairy legs spastically scratched the wooden cabinent. I could imagine the roach, reaching its final moments as it flailed around pitifully... or not because I didn't pity the thing at all. I bent down to rearrange my shoes that I moved out of the pathway of the bug but out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. I was eye level with the shoe cabinent and there was my besty friend, the ROACH, on its back, its spikey appendages pumping like it was bicycling with 6 legs. Oh man I felt so gross. I thought it had died already, but it had enough strength to climb the cabinent?!?! When it finally became still, I took many sheets of Kleenex and gingerly picked up the thing, holding it as far as possible from me and proceeded to flush it it in the toilet. GOODBYE forever!!!!!!!!! Oh man. DISGUSTING.
dinosaurs
If someone were to ask me if I could go back to any time period, which one would I choose, I wouldn't know what to say because there are so many places I'd want to see. I'd want to see Rome and Ceaser and Vikings and Christ in Bethlehem just to see if he was really real and Emperors and Shogun in Japan and the first native Hawaiians... the list could go on and on forever, I swear. But the thing I'd like to see the most are the Dinosaurs. Cretaceous, Mesozoic, Jurassic... I'd visit them all. I'd also want to see prehistoric creatures that have evolved into the animals we know today like komodo dragons or horses or tapirs or even the common pidgeon. It'd kind of be like a Jurassic Park all over again. When I was little, I was obsessed with that movie as well as Land Before Time (maybe not all 100 billion of them, just the first one), and all sorts of Dinosaur books. Call me strange, but I even had a computer game that was all about being a photographer of Dinosaurs. You were supposed to go to a certain era and find a specific dinosaur, take their picture, and get paid according to how good the shot was. I was a dork. When Discovery Channel did the special called "Walking with Dinosaurs" I was fascinated because the computer animation was incredibly realistic. The fight between the fierce King T-Rex and a dino with the nutzest defense mechanisms like the Stegosaurs... I would pay to see those in real life as long as the T-Rex didn't go for me. I wished that I could find some way to enter the TV and become a part of Pangea, the world before it broke apart into continents.
Many people probably think I'm psycho, like a mild Timmy Treadwell... kind of. Dinosaurs are no doubt dangerous. After all, they are WILD and most have the instinct to kill or be killed. But I think dinosaurs are way cool. Though some of them have modern day ancestors like the crocodile many of them were completely unique to the age of the dinosaurs. Like the brontosaurus,
the dinosaur with the really long neck, or the triceratops, 
the dinosaurs with 3 horns and a huge, bony head. The whole design of each creature alone is unlike anything we have today. What if we had some kind of Triceratops walking around today? I think the closest thing we have is a chameleon... an interesting creature, no doubt, but it's no triceratops. My interest in dinos was strengthened even more after taking biology and learning about natural selection and evolution in-depth. I would find it SO fascinating just to go on an excursion dedicated to the study of dinosaurs... Observe their behavior and anatomy. :( Too bad that that can never happen. If only we could clone them from blood in fosilized mosquitos trapped in amber...
Many people probably think I'm psycho, like a mild Timmy Treadwell... kind of. Dinosaurs are no doubt dangerous. After all, they are WILD and most have the instinct to kill or be killed. But I think dinosaurs are way cool. Though some of them have modern day ancestors like the crocodile many of them were completely unique to the age of the dinosaurs. Like the brontosaurus,
the dinosaur with the really long neck, or the triceratops, the dinosaurs with 3 horns and a huge, bony head. The whole design of each creature alone is unlike anything we have today. What if we had some kind of Triceratops walking around today? I think the closest thing we have is a chameleon... an interesting creature, no doubt, but it's no triceratops. My interest in dinos was strengthened even more after taking biology and learning about natural selection and evolution in-depth. I would find it SO fascinating just to go on an excursion dedicated to the study of dinosaurs... Observe their behavior and anatomy. :( Too bad that that can never happen. If only we could clone them from blood in fosilized mosquitos trapped in amber...
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
i fought the law and the law won... kinda
On Mother's Day, I got into my first car accident.
Okay, it was more like a pseudo-car accident because I didn't get in trouble. But it marked the middle of a Stressful Sunday. First of all, I was stressing out because it was Mother's Day and my mom was a little angry that I chose to go to one of my softball games all the way out in Kaneohe at 1045 when we had a brunch way back at Roy's in Hawaii Kai at 1215. I was also a bit grumpy because I was already missing the second game, and my coach was giving me a hard time about missing it because it was against one of our more competitive rivals. But I didn't want to miss both games, so being the diplomat I am, I made a compromise of going to the first game and then driving over to Roy;s, hopefully only missing 20 minutes or so of brunch. I am an optimist. After the first game, I was sweaty and gross but said a quick goodbye and good luck to my team mates, threw my stuff in my trunk and hightailed out of the parking lot. As I was driving on the Likelike, I could hear my mom's voice in my ear, "Drive Safely! Don't speed!" so I tried to heed her little voice in my head, and it sort of worked. Everything was going fine, I was going at a good pace without being "dangerous", and God knows that I didn't speed... that much. I ran into a little chunk of traffic but I was an uncharacteristically patient driver. When I entered Hawaii Kai it was about 1245. I thought to myself, "So I missed about a half an hour, but that's pretty good because I'm almost there. Plus, all we do is eat anyway. The main point is that I'm coming." The stoplight right before Hawaii Kai shopping center marked the beginning of the homestretch to the restaurant. It was stop and go traffic, so while we were stopped I decided to look in the mirror to check if I looked horrible (specfically looking for softball helmet hair, sweat and dirt on my face). It was an act of Narcissism that I won't even forget. I paid for this brief moment of vanity as out of the corner of my eye I saw movement in the car ahead. I thought this meant that we were going so I accelerated. And boom, I saw the man in front of me's outline jolt forward as I rear ended his Camry. It turns out that the driver was an old, little Japanese man with glasses in a faded green shirt. He reminded me of my grandpa, although he's Chinese and a head or more taller. His face got my scared. It was stern, like he was going to give me an earful and yell at me, probably calling me a girl with her head in the clouds, or some dumb girl who just wasn't paying attention... true descriptions. He walked over, surveyed the damage to his car and started to approach my window. Meanwhile, I was freaking out, the air filled with "OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT" and me trying to find my cell phone to call my mom. I knew that my mom would probably never let me drive for awhile and I would get an earful once we got home. The Roy's parking lot was right next to me, with Roy's in plain view. Oh, the irony. I decided that I had to just stay calm so as the man was next to my window I rolled it down and.... started apologizing profutely. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." "Why'd you do that?" demanded the little man, as if it were my choice to rear end him. I thought he meant more like, "what was I doing when this happened" so I said that I was looking for my cell phone and that I was on my way to a Mother's Day dinner. NOT entirely true, but more acceptable than "looking at myself in the mirror." He paused as if to process this info... stupid teenage girl... cellphone... but at last he responded with the beginnings of a smile and a glint in his eye. "What school do you go to?" I was not expecting this. What kind of question was this? Should I say Punahou? A lot of people would probably feel less sympathetic if I said Punahou but I decided to give it a shot. "Punahou," I meekly responded. He nodded and said, "Well, I'm alright." WHAT? No damage? I couldn't believe this. I walked outside to take a look at the damage with my own eyes. Not even a dent in both of our cars. A plastic part under the lights fell out but I easily popped it back in. "Wow," I said, in disbelief. "Yup, so just be more careful." The man walked back to his door. I couldn't stop apologizing. "Thank you thank you thank you. I'm sorry again!" He smiled at me and got back into his car, starting the ignition. "I love old people," I thought.
So I narrowly escaped what could've been really, really bad. I thought my Mom would give me a huge lecture but she was just as relieved that there was no damage done and laughed when I told her that all the man asked was what school i went to and what was i doing when i hit him. It was a lesson well-learned: don't take your eyes off the road. OBVIOUSLY!
But that night, I had a dream that I got multiple speeding tickets... try 5 on the same day. It was absurd. For some reason I had a pedal happy foot because as soon as one cop let me go, I would speed away, weaving in and out of cars. It was quite thrilling at the time... until I got pulled over not even 5 minutes later. I felt a surge of the feelings I experienced earlier that day when I was sitting in the car watching the man come out- anxiety, fear, regret, distress, panic. But thankfully, woke up right before it was time for Judgement with my parents.
I am never looking at myself in the mirror while behind the wheel again.
Okay, it was more like a pseudo-car accident because I didn't get in trouble. But it marked the middle of a Stressful Sunday. First of all, I was stressing out because it was Mother's Day and my mom was a little angry that I chose to go to one of my softball games all the way out in Kaneohe at 1045 when we had a brunch way back at Roy's in Hawaii Kai at 1215. I was also a bit grumpy because I was already missing the second game, and my coach was giving me a hard time about missing it because it was against one of our more competitive rivals. But I didn't want to miss both games, so being the diplomat I am, I made a compromise of going to the first game and then driving over to Roy;s, hopefully only missing 20 minutes or so of brunch. I am an optimist. After the first game, I was sweaty and gross but said a quick goodbye and good luck to my team mates, threw my stuff in my trunk and hightailed out of the parking lot. As I was driving on the Likelike, I could hear my mom's voice in my ear, "Drive Safely! Don't speed!" so I tried to heed her little voice in my head, and it sort of worked. Everything was going fine, I was going at a good pace without being "dangerous", and God knows that I didn't speed... that much. I ran into a little chunk of traffic but I was an uncharacteristically patient driver. When I entered Hawaii Kai it was about 1245. I thought to myself, "So I missed about a half an hour, but that's pretty good because I'm almost there. Plus, all we do is eat anyway. The main point is that I'm coming." The stoplight right before Hawaii Kai shopping center marked the beginning of the homestretch to the restaurant. It was stop and go traffic, so while we were stopped I decided to look in the mirror to check if I looked horrible (specfically looking for softball helmet hair, sweat and dirt on my face). It was an act of Narcissism that I won't even forget. I paid for this brief moment of vanity as out of the corner of my eye I saw movement in the car ahead. I thought this meant that we were going so I accelerated. And boom, I saw the man in front of me's outline jolt forward as I rear ended his Camry. It turns out that the driver was an old, little Japanese man with glasses in a faded green shirt. He reminded me of my grandpa, although he's Chinese and a head or more taller. His face got my scared. It was stern, like he was going to give me an earful and yell at me, probably calling me a girl with her head in the clouds, or some dumb girl who just wasn't paying attention... true descriptions. He walked over, surveyed the damage to his car and started to approach my window. Meanwhile, I was freaking out, the air filled with "OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT" and me trying to find my cell phone to call my mom. I knew that my mom would probably never let me drive for awhile and I would get an earful once we got home. The Roy's parking lot was right next to me, with Roy's in plain view. Oh, the irony. I decided that I had to just stay calm so as the man was next to my window I rolled it down and.... started apologizing profutely. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." "Why'd you do that?" demanded the little man, as if it were my choice to rear end him. I thought he meant more like, "what was I doing when this happened" so I said that I was looking for my cell phone and that I was on my way to a Mother's Day dinner. NOT entirely true, but more acceptable than "looking at myself in the mirror." He paused as if to process this info... stupid teenage girl... cellphone... but at last he responded with the beginnings of a smile and a glint in his eye. "What school do you go to?" I was not expecting this. What kind of question was this? Should I say Punahou? A lot of people would probably feel less sympathetic if I said Punahou but I decided to give it a shot. "Punahou," I meekly responded. He nodded and said, "Well, I'm alright." WHAT? No damage? I couldn't believe this. I walked outside to take a look at the damage with my own eyes. Not even a dent in both of our cars. A plastic part under the lights fell out but I easily popped it back in. "Wow," I said, in disbelief. "Yup, so just be more careful." The man walked back to his door. I couldn't stop apologizing. "Thank you thank you thank you. I'm sorry again!" He smiled at me and got back into his car, starting the ignition. "I love old people," I thought.
So I narrowly escaped what could've been really, really bad. I thought my Mom would give me a huge lecture but she was just as relieved that there was no damage done and laughed when I told her that all the man asked was what school i went to and what was i doing when i hit him. It was a lesson well-learned: don't take your eyes off the road. OBVIOUSLY!
But that night, I had a dream that I got multiple speeding tickets... try 5 on the same day. It was absurd. For some reason I had a pedal happy foot because as soon as one cop let me go, I would speed away, weaving in and out of cars. It was quite thrilling at the time... until I got pulled over not even 5 minutes later. I felt a surge of the feelings I experienced earlier that day when I was sitting in the car watching the man come out- anxiety, fear, regret, distress, panic. But thankfully, woke up right before it was time for Judgement with my parents.
I am never looking at myself in the mirror while behind the wheel again.
what's wrong with me?
Inspired by Katie's blog
This week I am going into cruise control. No, it's not an option, it's a statement. I feel like really don't have a choice. This is NOT coming from a senior. Sad, I know, but it's got truth in its foundations. With summer dangling in front of me like my favorite maguro sushi from Genki, especially rich, dark red and tender, it's too difficult to maintain my focus. If there were a Jimmy Cricket conscious hovering on my shoulder, he would be disappointed and take on the role of a drill sargent. "What are you doing, Sara? Pull yourself together, and shake off those cobwebs accumulating in your brain, amongst thoughts of the beach and fresh summer dresses. Those go on the backburner! This is crunch time, where you should be working harder than ever before! We're talking about the end of your all-important junior year!" In the back of my mind, I silently agree and tell myself to snap back into "robot student mode"... that is, If I could.
Autopilot has taken over my body. I no longer have the focus to do really much of anything. I've experienced too much second-hand senioritus and now it's killing me. That is why cruise control has somehow morphed into my body's natural mode. For instance, tomorrow is my math quarter test, which counts double for my grade. I need to do extraordinarily well since I totally bombed the last test. But am I prepared? Hardly. I was supposed to study yesterday as well as today, but I got distracted by an interesting phone call, and really, what teenage girl would rather study for math when they could be having a thunderous laugh attack, and unearthing juicy gossip! Okay, maybe the really dilligent and dedicated girls would. I should've been more like them, but sadly, I wasn't.
But why do I keep comparing myself to others? It's natural. However, comparing myself to myself through my academic career would be a bad idea also. If I think about it even more, one of the main reasons why I am so screwed is because this quarter/semester will be compared to last semester and sophomore year, where the living was easier and that showed in my grades. This is horrible, I should slap myself on the wrist for even thinking about this, but if I hadn't done so well, my grades now would seem like they were an improvement/maybe even good. So should I have done worse before to minimize the poor student image I am creating for myself now? Preposterous! This is totally the worst attitude I have ever seen myself have. I shall never speak about this again. Now I am a poor soul condemned to the confines of a textbook, thinking about my actions and regretting the apathetic mood I am exhibiting right now.
The worst thing about my whole attitude is that I am fully aware that it sucks, but I am too lazy to make much of a change. Actions speak louder than words, but right now, my words are drowing my actions tenfold. I wish I could just say that my work ethic has been leeched by Harry Potter dementors. If only that were a plausible explanation. But for now, I am going to have to suck it up and shift into overdrive because I know that if I continue my current attitude towards school, I am going to be in for a rude awakening later. Enough talk, let's get to steppin! I've got to figure a way to get out of cruise control.
This week I am going into cruise control. No, it's not an option, it's a statement. I feel like really don't have a choice. This is NOT coming from a senior. Sad, I know, but it's got truth in its foundations. With summer dangling in front of me like my favorite maguro sushi from Genki, especially rich, dark red and tender, it's too difficult to maintain my focus. If there were a Jimmy Cricket conscious hovering on my shoulder, he would be disappointed and take on the role of a drill sargent. "What are you doing, Sara? Pull yourself together, and shake off those cobwebs accumulating in your brain, amongst thoughts of the beach and fresh summer dresses. Those go on the backburner! This is crunch time, where you should be working harder than ever before! We're talking about the end of your all-important junior year!" In the back of my mind, I silently agree and tell myself to snap back into "robot student mode"... that is, If I could.
Autopilot has taken over my body. I no longer have the focus to do really much of anything. I've experienced too much second-hand senioritus and now it's killing me. That is why cruise control has somehow morphed into my body's natural mode. For instance, tomorrow is my math quarter test, which counts double for my grade. I need to do extraordinarily well since I totally bombed the last test. But am I prepared? Hardly. I was supposed to study yesterday as well as today, but I got distracted by an interesting phone call, and really, what teenage girl would rather study for math when they could be having a thunderous laugh attack, and unearthing juicy gossip! Okay, maybe the really dilligent and dedicated girls would. I should've been more like them, but sadly, I wasn't.
But why do I keep comparing myself to others? It's natural. However, comparing myself to myself through my academic career would be a bad idea also. If I think about it even more, one of the main reasons why I am so screwed is because this quarter/semester will be compared to last semester and sophomore year, where the living was easier and that showed in my grades. This is horrible, I should slap myself on the wrist for even thinking about this, but if I hadn't done so well, my grades now would seem like they were an improvement/maybe even good. So should I have done worse before to minimize the poor student image I am creating for myself now? Preposterous! This is totally the worst attitude I have ever seen myself have. I shall never speak about this again. Now I am a poor soul condemned to the confines of a textbook, thinking about my actions and regretting the apathetic mood I am exhibiting right now.
The worst thing about my whole attitude is that I am fully aware that it sucks, but I am too lazy to make much of a change. Actions speak louder than words, but right now, my words are drowing my actions tenfold. I wish I could just say that my work ethic has been leeched by Harry Potter dementors. If only that were a plausible explanation. But for now, I am going to have to suck it up and shift into overdrive because I know that if I continue my current attitude towards school, I am going to be in for a rude awakening later. Enough talk, let's get to steppin! I've got to figure a way to get out of cruise control.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
MADE
Many people have probably watched MTV's "MADE", the show where a kid that falls under one stereotype wants to become the opposite stereotype and so MTV hires them a "MADE" coach that will help them achieve their goal. Most of the time it's something like an emo kid wants to become prom king or a um, semi-socially clueless girl wants to become a cheerleader... something like that. The show's main entertainment factor comes from the selection of people they've picked out, obviously. They're either weird, dorky to the point where it's funny but you're laughing WITH them not at them, or almost pathetic, and what they want to become is so different from what they are now that it just seems impossible for them to reach it. Thus, getting the MADE audience hooked. Some people go from wearing tye-dyed shirts with unicorns on them to beauty queens and fashionistas. No offense, of course, if you like tye-dyed shirts with unicorns on them. Other transformations aren't so drastic but it's enough to think that this MADE coach must have some special superhuman power. In the end, the wonderful MADE coach miraculously manages to help the person obtain the unattainable... or at least come close, changing their life and helping them "learn valuable lessons" from the whole experience. I've always wondered what I'd want to become if I were to be on the show.
If I were on the show, I think I'd want to be made into a cheerleader/dancer or something just to say that I tried something new. I don't really know if I even fit into one stereotype as I am now. So therefore it's hard for me to think of something completely opposite from what I am. I guess dancer/cheerleader fits best. For one, I'm extremely unflexible, so being a cheerleader never really occured to me. I've seen the previous cheerleader episodes and I can't do a handspring or whatever to save my life. I'm more of an athletic type person who'd rather get sweaty and dirty and the like on the softball field. Two, I'm not THAT loud and perky and all that stuff cheerleaders need to be. I'm outgoing ENOUGH but not cheerleader like outgoing if you know what I mean. Three, I don't have the confidence the cheerleader people have. There's some stigma that comes with being a cheerleader, good and bad, yes but it's something whether it's a stereotype that fits or one that doesn't. But it's usually that cheerleaders are popular, pretty and ditzy in some cases. I can do without the last one please. And finally, well, I don't know, I guess my friends would probably think I'd be the last person to be a cheerleader/dancer. Hahaaa.
I don't think I'd make the show though, because they usually pick someone sad enough so that people watch just to see how someone can magically undergo such a drastic transformation. I like being interesting, but not to the point where I'd catch thousands of people's attentions by being on MADE...well, just because it's the show MADE. Seriously.
If I were on the show, I think I'd want to be made into a cheerleader/dancer or something just to say that I tried something new. I don't really know if I even fit into one stereotype as I am now. So therefore it's hard for me to think of something completely opposite from what I am. I guess dancer/cheerleader fits best. For one, I'm extremely unflexible, so being a cheerleader never really occured to me. I've seen the previous cheerleader episodes and I can't do a handspring or whatever to save my life. I'm more of an athletic type person who'd rather get sweaty and dirty and the like on the softball field. Two, I'm not THAT loud and perky and all that stuff cheerleaders need to be. I'm outgoing ENOUGH but not cheerleader like outgoing if you know what I mean. Three, I don't have the confidence the cheerleader people have. There's some stigma that comes with being a cheerleader, good and bad, yes but it's something whether it's a stereotype that fits or one that doesn't. But it's usually that cheerleaders are popular, pretty and ditzy in some cases. I can do without the last one please. And finally, well, I don't know, I guess my friends would probably think I'd be the last person to be a cheerleader/dancer. Hahaaa.
I don't think I'd make the show though, because they usually pick someone sad enough so that people watch just to see how someone can magically undergo such a drastic transformation. I like being interesting, but not to the point where I'd catch thousands of people's attentions by being on MADE...well, just because it's the show MADE. Seriously.
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