You guys are the people who get paid the most for coming up with the worst ideas ever. Like seriously, none of you must drive places on a regular basis because then you would know what a pain in the ass some of your parking lots are to maneuver around. It’s really great that you get paid as much as you do for angering the majority of drivers with your illogical parking lot designs.
First, don’t make parking spaces 8 inches wide. It’s really fun to try to squeeze ourselves out of the car because we can only open it two inches because there’s a car parked right next to us since the spaces are so tiny. Then there are those behemoth SUVs that feel obligated to park in two spaces because their massive car deserves more than one of the narrow, measly little spaces that you designed. Or they park right on the line and leave you with only one inch to squish yourself out of the car.
You know what’s also really awesome about your designs? Dead ends. They’re so awesome. I’m not sure why you guys would ever think that putting a dead end in a parking lot is a good idea. I bet you just did it for a laugh. I just love turning down a row to find a parking space but there’s nothing there AND there’s a dead end. You guys just think of everything, don’t you?
Christmas is just like a second Thanksgiving, except it has red and green, gifts, and trees, instead of brown and orange, pumpkins, and turkeys. Both holidays are great for me because they involve copious amounts of food. Normally, I wouldn't complain about two feasts within the span of 4 weeks. However, now I feel like a couch potato. I understand why people make resolutions at this time of year. It's the after-gorging-on-food holiday shock.
I love buying gifts for people. Shopping is pretty fun in general, so having an excuse to go shopping (it's for my friend, I swear) just makes it so much better. I'm not really good at getting meaningful or deep gifts for people. I love giving creative/witty/inside joking gifts. Then they're practical and they bring back memories. And, really, that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it? Making and reliving memories.
Somehow, I don't think I'm that easy to buy gifts for. I don't really have any interests that allow people to give me little gifts relating to that activity. I mean, you could buy me a French horn, if you want, but I never expect that. Also, my birthday is two months after Christmas so I don't want to waste all of my good Christmas gift ideas and then have no ideas for my birthday.
I always like getting practical gifts because they're obviously something you're going to use: lotion, pens, food, money. It saves the awkward "Oh, hey I love this!" reaction where you really don't like it at all and you don't think you're ever going to use it. Though I like practical gifts, I have yet to find a good reaction for them, too. You can't really be too excited: "Shut up! It's exactly what I wanted! I can't believe you got me my favorite pretzels!" I mean, they're pretzels. Come on.
I do like Christmas. It's a great time to chill and hang out with family. We get to laugh together as we play board games and eat pie and open presents. Who wouldn't love that?
"The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing, and becomes nothing." -Leo F. Buscaglia
Everybody takes risks in their lives, whether unconsciously or not. Every decision we make, every action we do all involve risk in some way. There are obvious risky decisions, ones that affect your health or well-being or life, but there are other, less obvious ones. When you sign up for classes, you take the risk of losing your sanity or dropping your GPA. When you eat junk food, you take the risk of developing clogged arteries or diabetes. When you get a haircut, you take the risk of not having people like how you look afterwards.
There's also different types of risk. There's the "Haha-That-Was-Sooooo-Risky" risk, which isn't very risky at all. That's a risk like wearing yellow with red instead of pink. You ran the risk of clashing. Then there's the "Yikes-That-Was-Kinda-Risky" risk, which are usually somewhat risky. That constitutes the acceleration through a yellow light to have it turn red when you're a quarter of the way through the intersection. Lastly, there's the "Shit-Man-That-Was-Super-Risky" risk, which usually is just scary beyond belief. That would be like bungee jumping out of a plane in which the pilot fell asleep and your parachute ripped.
People all classify their risks differently. I'm not a risky person at all. I'm very indecisive, so whenever I do make a decision, it's going to be one with little chance of something going wrong. To me, risky is arriving to class 30 seconds before the bell rings. I feel like a daredevil. (My gosh, am I really this lame?) Some people think risky is ordering a turkey sandwich instead of ham, or drinking apple juice with breakfast instead of orange juice. Others think that hitchhiking a ride to the Metrodome to sneak in to see a game is hardly risky at all.
The most risky thing of all is telling lies. This goes for everybody, no matter what their risk-tolerance level. I'll just leave you with that thought. Ponder it for a while. Do you lie a lot? Do you take risks? Check out the connection between the two, it might be more prevalent than you think.
First, I'm just going to say that I did follow directions, Cardona. I want to point out that I did try to switch things up a little bit, so I made a vlog. When I watched it back, though, I looked uncomfortable and I felt awkward talking to myself. I felt like I was going crazy. So I ditched that idea and I'm just gonna write about Christmas now. *We wish you a Merry Christmas.*
I'm sitting in our kitchen right now as my parents are making Polish Potato and Sausage Soup for lunch, jamming out to Christmas tunes. I think we have 20 Christmas themed CDs. And I'm pretty sure we listen to all of them. In our defense, there are a bunch of different genres: brass instrumental, rat pack, a cappella, choral, and then the normal kind of music. Is that too much? *City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style.*
I love listening to Christmas music. I don't think Christmas would be complete without it, although I do think it's a little overkill that radio stations start playing Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving. Too soon, man. And then, even worse, there are some bad recordings out there, but I'm glad that my family respects good Christmas music. *And so it's been said many times, many ways. Merry Christmas to you.*
In December, my mom always has at least 3 Christmas CDs in her car. Even at home, my dad sets aside his iPod, which is usually constantly playing, for Christmas CDs to create holiday cheer. We sing along with these songs a lot. My dad and I like to harmonize. My mom and I sing along with songs that don't have any words, so we "da da da" along. *Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And since we've no place to go, let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!*
Along with the large amount of Christmas CDs, we have 4 or 5 Christmas piano books. My mom likes finding cool versions of Christmas songs, so two of our books are jazzy Christmas songs. Some of them actually sound interesting, like We Three Kings of Orient Are. We all have our own favorite songs: my mom likes Do You Hear What I Hear?, my dad likes The Christmas Song, and I like Deck the Halls. *Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la.*
Speaking of decking the halls, when I went to see the Dallas Brass concert, I bought their Christmas CD because my mom also really likes brass Christmas music. They have a really good version of Deck the Halls where they just go crazy and are doing massive runs and hitting really high notes. It's awesome, but if I had to pick an overall favorite CD, it would be the Blenders. They are an a cappella group based in the Twin Cities and their songs/arrangements are freaking awesome. I couldn't find their best originial song ('Twas the Night) on YouTube, but I found their freaking awesome version of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town. Please listen and enjoy.
They're kind of a older boy band who try to be hip, but they're still really cute.
Now I'm going to go make some cookies: Russian Teacakes. And I'm going to eat them. And I'm going to get all covered in powdered sugar.
Except for it's not caves we're examining here. It's a cavernous junk drawer in the kitchen near the hallway. A very convenient location to drop things in passing. I bet there are things in there older than I am. Let's see, shall we.
Obviously it holds necessary household items like scissors, pencils, pens, tape, calculators, and rulers (I'm sure you all have a drawer like that at home), but if you delve a littler deeper you'll find some pretty weird things in there.
I was right. There is something older than me in there. Those massive spectacles in the upper left hand corner were my dad's glasses at one point in time. I think he got them out to show me how small my glasses were compared to his. I'm pretty sure he also just wanted to show me how cool he was back then.
That lone pink pom-pom fell off my snowman slippers once upon a time. My mom said she would fix them (because I'm all about symmetry) but that never happened. I'm not even sure how it made its way downstairs since our sewing machine is upstairs. It's been living in the drawer undisturbed ever since.
The small, green, bullet-shaped thing is an eraser. I found it at school in 3rd grade and fell in love. I didn't think it was too extreme to steal an eraser, so I brought it home to enjoy it, but when it got home it lost its magic so I tossed it in the drawer to save it from any further humiliation. My dad discovered it a few years ago and has been using it somewhat ever since. Apparently it's a really good eraser.
Behind the glare of the florescent light is a package of music note shaped paper clips. I got those for my birthday 2 years ago and put them out by all of my other music stuff in the dining room. Turns out, there isn't much to paper clip in dining rooms, so I moved them to the drawer, hoping to use them more. One now holds together my AP Comp vocab notecards. At least I'm organized.
There's a roll of bright fuschia electrical tape in there. I was bored one day in 6th grade when I found it and decided to cover my whole band folder in purple tape. It used the majority of the roll and I didn't have anything else I needed it for so I put it back. I was the coolest band kid in 6th grade.
Lastly, that's a mini book light/laser pointer. It can only clip on to 20 pages so nobody really used it as a booklight. The laser made a really good play toy for Dave, though. (Dave was a cat. Not a brother. I'm an only child and who entertains their brothers with lasers?) Then he got old and didn't want to play with it anymore, so back in the drawer it went.
As you can see, there are many useful things in that drawer. You just need to go junk drawer diving. Who knows? You might even find some cool tidbits and trinkets in there.
I'm sure you've all been awkwardly embarrassed before. Let's see if you can guess all of these modes right. If not, you're sure to become embarrassed.
1. Usually it begins with an increased heartbeat (thump…thump…thump..thump..thump.thump.thumpthumpTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP). Then it moves down into your stomach and you find it tense up ‘til (for women) it feels like that time of month again. Travelling down through your legs, your knees start buckling and your toes start tapping to that inaudible techno beat going on in your head. With all that blood pumping, your cheeks start to look like tomatoes and little beads of sweat start to leak out of your pores to create a sheet of glistening moisture across your forehead. It’s then that you feel embarrassed.
2. Embarrassment is sparked by failure, or the fear of failure, or incompetence, or flattery. It isn’t any of these things individually, but the reaction caused by them in certain situations. Take failure, for example. If you trip up the stairs when walking with a friend, you think to yourself, “Gah, epic fail.” However, the circumstances of this failure allow you to move on and laugh it off. But, if you forget the lyrics to the national anthem in front of thousands of people, they will think, “Wow, what an epic fail,” and you will feel embarrassed.
3. Embarrassment is unhealthy. Prolonged experiences of embarrassment can lead to anxiety and high blood pressure because of the increased heart rate. It can bring about severely unsociable tendencies because the fear of being embarrassed will prevent people from stepping out into public. Embarrassment allows someone to attack themselves for being silly, oblivious, or irresponsible. Embarrassment should be illegal, and all those who judge people and make them feel inferior or embarrassed should be outlawed, too.
4. I’ve been embarrassed before. It was in 9th grade civics class (and I say this like it was the only time I’ve ever been embarrassed. Ha, lies. This is just one of the many times.) during our Constitutional Convention. It was meant to be a fun time, but I have been scarred forever. Politics/government/history was not my strong suit but I wanted to participate so I raised my hand to propose an idea. Turns out, the idea was so radically on the other side of the spectrum than what I believed. Everybody laughed. I still got a 29/30 on the assignment, though.
5. There are 3 types of embarrassment. There’s the funny type of embarrassment. Least disheartening, this type of embarrassment constitutes the “Whoops, that came out wrong,” and “I didn’t mean to say that” reactions. There’s the questionable type of embarrassment where one often asks “Should I be embarrassed?” because everybody starts to laugh when they weren’t intending to be funny. Then there’s the My-Gosh-This-Is-So-Humiliating type of embarrassment. This is the loud-fart-during-a-test-you-better-pack-your-stuff-and-move-to-another-city kind of embarrassment. Anybody who experiences this embarrassment has no luck whatsoever.
6. Once upon a time a boyfriend and girlfriend went to the movies. The girlfriend was very into theatre and had been in multiple plays at their high school. The boyfriend obviously had to attend the play alone because the girlfriend was in it. At the movie theater, the boyfriend leans over to the girlfriend and asks, “Hey, did you ever have time to go see the play?” The girlfriend, a little taken aback, leans back over to the boyfriend and says, “I was in it.” The boyfriend was embarrassed.
Notice the lack of adjective in the above title. It hasn't necessarily been a good weekend. I feel like I've been going going going the whole weekend. I'm probably not even going to be able to sit down and relax until I go to bed tonight. Sure, I guess yesterday was fun but I felt the dark cloud of homework looming over me all day. So I've just decided that I'm going to be like the Energizer bunny and power through everything without hesitation or distraction. Look at me run.
Actually, no. I don't like to run. I have this huge internal conflict going on about exercise. I sometimes feel good after exercising but I don't really like to exercise. I don't like to be hot and I don't like to sweat. (Sidenote, I don't like winter, either. There is really no good place for me to live in this world that is fall and spring all year round.) I also don't really like to do too much strenuous exercise because I have asthma and if I get too worked up, then I start panting like a mad dog. I recently discovered yoga to meet my standards of exercise, though I do get hot and sweaty sometimes. I can use my dance background to pull me through.
I am so excited for Christmas. Like, actually. There is so much excitement. I'm not necessarily excited for Christmas itself, I don't know what I want, but I have all of these awesome gifts planned out for my friends and I can't wait to give them the gifts but I still have to wait a month. I'm kind of dying inside. It might be lame, but the only thing that keeps me pulling through is looking at their list of gifts everyday and thinking of how excited they are going to be when I present their gifts to them. Merry Christmas, all.
This weekend I became addicted - to Someone Like You by ADELE. (She had throat surgery, did you know that?) I don't actually know the whole song, so I've been singing the 30 second refrain over and over again. I've gotten super good at the refrain. I'm also kinda obsessed with Turning Tables. I have the sheet music for it and I've been playing/singing it at least twice everyday. I actually know that lyrics to that one. Does it ever bug you when you can't understand what a singer is singing? Because when the song is playing you can mumble along but when you're singing a cappella with your friends, it embarrassing when you don't know the words and have to mumble then.
Hey sorry for the kinda boring blog post. I'm drifting off and it's only 11:30. In the morning. Today will be a long day.
It's time for that lovely weekly blog post again. In this case, that means it's time for eXplorations and eXtensions! The wittiness of whoever comes up with things like that blows my mind. Seriously. Mind blown.
But for real. We have some issues. Our society does, at least. The extensive use of computers today pose some major problems for society, especially as we keep moving forward and develop more technologies. Something needs to be done, people. Pronto.
Problem #1: Computers are stalkers. We have no privacy with computers, it's true, and it's a huge problem. I bet if I looked hard enough, I could find all of my personal information somewhere on the internet. Sure, you give your phone number and insurance to the nice ladies at the dentist's office or doctor's office, but they go on the database and can end up circulating the web. I don't really see a solution to this, I do think computers are logical places to store this information, I just think it's a problem that it's all available to any stranger who has the time to look for it.
Problem #2: Sometimes it's pretty darn annoying that certain websites are censored. Like at school. I understand that the administrators want to block certain sites (like pornography and some gaming sites) but other sites like Facebook and even some sites necessary for research projects have been blocked. Can you say overkill? Those research sites contain some pretty valuable information. And, while I can understand the blockage of Facebook, I don't think it should be blocked because students either a) don't care enough about school that they would go on Facebook in class and goof off (it's their decision to fail the class) or b) students that work really hard, finish their work early, and have nothing else to do in class and therefore blog (see previous post). It's really quite annoying. Let students decide for themselves what sites they want to waste their time on.
Problem #3: Computer talk. You know what I'm talking about, when you go to dictionary.com and click on the speaker button to hear the pronunciation and all that comes out is some robotic jumble of a word. Nobody says it like the computers pronounce it. On certain computers, you can highlight a portion of the text and it will read it back to you. I find it really funny when names are included because the poor (haha, yeah right) computer can't pronounce them and stumbles over itself to get out something that vaguely resembles a name. Why do computers even have this function? Is it really that hard to read something out loud yourself? At least you'd pronounce everything correctly.
Problem #4: Anti-socialism and those who will become crazy cat ladies. Sometime in the very near future, computers will be able to do everything for a person so it won't be necessary for them to even leave the house. There'll be computerized machines to drop off groceries, online shopping, online school. People of our generation will lose the social life they have worked so hard on. Skyping doesn't count. People have got to interact with people and get out of the house and live. That appeal is disintegrating with the inventions of new computers. People need to stop relying so much on computers and start doing things for themselves.
I finished my history assignment early in class so I have time to do whatever I want! I went on Skyward (obsessive grade checker, it's a problem) and then I got bored. So I decided to blog.
I've recently become obsessed with coconut macaroons. I bought them at the Whole Foods in St. Paul. I got the convenient package of "two-bite" macaroons. Neither one of my parents like coconut, so I got to enjoy all but 2 of them myself. Yay. They're my version of Halloween candy. My favorite chocolate/candy is Take 5 (a lovely combination of chocolate, peanuts, peanut butter, caramel, and pretzels). So good, man. Heaven on Earth. Unfortunately, these heavenly candies rarely come in fun size packages so I'm out of luck when it comes to Halloween.
Even looking at it makes my mouth water a little bit. How embarrassing.
My cat is so needy. He is also not very inconspicuous in his attempts to get attention. Like right now he's nudging my arm every 5 seconds, thinking "Hey. Hey, Meredith. Don't you wanna pet me? I know you wanna pet me. Why don't you pet me?" He thinks his efforts are futile, but I say "No, Dave. I shall not pet you. However, to console you, I will write a gleaming paragraph about you in my blog." He doesn't believe me. Now he's sitting on an afghan, sulking. Wait, no. He's not sulking. He's conked out.
Hey, guess what? I'm excited for Thanksgiving. We always head down to my grandparents house in Minneota. (No, that's not a typo. The city is actually spelled like Minnesota minus the "s".) We always follow tradition and eat the same things every year. Sometimes turkey, sometimes ham, sometimes both. Mashed potatoes with cream cheese. Cranberries. Stuffing. Green bean casserole (my favorite). Apple pie. Pumpkin dessert. I can eat more than some of my grown relatives. I guess my stomach just expands to make room for the foods I love.
Hey, guess what also? Nah, I don't have anything. Have a good weekend, kids. Don't drive on the left side of the road.
Should I be embarrassed that I don't have a writing process? Should I be embarrassed about the things that my miniscule process includes? It's not that I lack a writing process, it's just that I've never explicity followed one every time I have to write a huge paper. My process involves me taking the laptop, sitting down (nowhere special, usually just at the kitchen table), and opening up many tabs (facebook, Mrs. Cardona's blog, dictionary.com, bubble spinner) that I can spend time on when my paper gets to be too much for me to handle. I'm not a procrastinator: I like to start working on things as soon as possible so I can spend more time on beautifying them, but sometimes I'm surprised that I do finish my papers with time to spare because I open up so many distractions for myself and I'm unfocused (usually) by nature. I can be very focused when I want to be, but in the first steps of writing a paper, that focus is virtually nonexistant.
So I don't have a writing process of things I have to follow any time I delve into a paper. There are, however, certain things that are never and will never be part of my writing process.
I can't handwrite drafts. Never have and never will. It bugs the small amount of OCD that I have. That was why I was so complainy when I went to Orlando because I had to handwrite my draft on the plane ride. Doubly worse.
I can't edit on the computer. Something about the screen bothers my eyes and makes them glaze over after a page or two. I always have to print out a copy of my draft to edit it. Doing that is also better because you can draw lines and arrows and see all the changes you have made.
There has to be either complete silence or crazy loud chaos. One extreme or the other. If two people are carrying on a conversation right next to me, bad things happen because I either start writing down their conversation or can't write at all because of the distraction.
I can't write at dinnertime. That's because my dad comes into the kitchen and turns on his music and starts cooking away while singing "Will it go round in circles? Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?" His so-called cooking music. Now, don't get me wrong, I like his cooking music. In fact, when I cook with him, I insist on having some background tunes to chop and mash along with. It just doesn't help when I'm trying to write a paper.
Don't talk to me. Please. I get very testy when I am in the zone and writing away and someone comes up to me and says "Now what time does your thing start, again?" Wait until I'm awkwardly unfocused and staring off into space to ask me a question like that. Please?
Now, if we're talking about writing a poem or something like that, I am very lenient about the process because I think it's best to just let your creative juices flow. Whatever trips your trigger at any point in time is bound to have a lovely effect on your poetry writing.
Over MEA I went to Orlando and Disney World (a.k.a. the happiest and most magical place on Earth). Despite the tortures of waking up at 3 a.m. to catch our flight and going to bed at 2 a.m. last night, it was one of the best trips I have ever been on and one that I will remember for a very long time (leading and marching in a parade at Magic Kingdom at night heading towards the glowing purple castle = awesome).
The best part by FAR was going to Epcot for a day. The Epcot International Food and Wine Festival conveniently was happening during our stay. Major scores in the pleasing Meredith's taste buds category. There were kiosks set up all over the park serving food from all over the world. Countries from Brazil to Poland, South Africa to South Korea, Belgium to Morocco were all represented by little appetizers worth 3 or so dollars. I was in heaven.
I vowed to eat at or buy things from as many countries as possible in my time there and I believe I succeeded in doing so. Morocco: check. France: check. China: check. Hawaii: check (even though it's not a country). Let me break down for you my culinary adventures of the day:
Morocco: Couscous with chicken and grilled vegetables (this was a full meal for lunch)
France: Almond croissant (which I ordered in French, no big deal or anything)
Germany: Marzipan chocolates and what looks like a chocolate hazelnut wafer sandwich
Italy: Amaretto and coffee truffles
Japan: Kiwi gummies
China: Caramel ginger ice cream
Mexico: Nachoes and goat's milk candies (those are all for my dad)
Hawaii: Pulled pork sandwich with pineapple and red pepper chutney
The highlights of my day were by far Morocco, China, and Hawaii. The couscous at Morocco was very good but it seemed amazing because it was the first meal I had in 8 meals that was not fast food. It felt so good to eat good. The ice cream in China was just freaking fantastic. It had actual hunks of caramelized ginger and caramel in it which enhanced the flavor by at least 30%. It was delicious but I couldn't finish it because the ginger started burning my throat. The little plum-sized sandwich I ate in Hawaii was the tastiest thing I had all day. It's pretty self-explanatory but the way the flavors meshed together and the contrast between the tender pork and the harder pineapple was fabulous.
Good thing we walked around the park for 12 hours. Otherwise, I would have gained 5 pounds alone that day.
My self-esteem plummeted this week. I thought I had been spending my 2 million minutes productively. In an average week of 10,080 minutes, I spend approximately 5,040 minutes at school or doing homework, 510 minutes doing music related things, 180 minutes volunteering at the Humane Society, 630 minutes either getting ready for my day or getting ready for bed, and an estimated 3,360 minutes to sleep. That leaves me with 360 minutes to do whatever I want. Yay. But apparently that amount of free time would be a disgrace in Indian or Chinese cultures. I swear, kids who live in India or China and go school there don't even have time to blink. Can I point out a logical fallacy? Hasty generalization. Picking 2 students out of about 20,000,000 students is a hard task and the selected students are bound to only represent two genres of the high school scene. I don't believe the hard-working dedicated student category was filled, which is what I believe a good bunch of students are. The documentary 2 Million Minutes made me feel like a minority because I actually care about doing well in school. I shouldn't feel like a weirdo for working hard. Maybe I should live in China.
No that's a bad idea. After watching that documentary, I can't dispute the fact that there probably are smarter, harder working students in China and India who set higher goals and expectations for themselves than we do. However, most American students are more well-rounded: we are smart but also create time for ourselves to do things we enjoy. And just because we don't want to become doctors or engineers doesn't mean we aren't setting our sights high. I want to become a professional musician and play in famous orchestras around the world. The odds of that happening are slim, just like the odds of becoming a doctor or lawyer, but you cannot tell me that I don't have my sights set high. I will flip.
Which brings me to flipping out during the movie at least 3 times. 1) When Neil said that he didn't try at all on the PSAT yet qualified for a National Merit Scholarship and gets to go to Purdue on a full ride scholarship, I about blew a gasket. The thoughts running through my head: "How come I work my tail off to do half the things that he does and what do I get for a reward? A nice pat on the back. Pathetic." He seemed like a good student, just lazy, which is probably what the documentary was trying to get at. 2) When the boy from China said he spends half of his time playing computer and video games I was so mad. I wish I could play video games for half of my afternoon and still get the grades that he apparently does. 3) I hate it when people disparage their own capabilities. The boy from China said he was really surprised that he got picked for the national math championship EVEN THOUGH he was the top math student in his entire school and in the top 100 in China. If I was that smart I would totally think I should get picked for the math championships. It's mean but I think it was good that the documentary showed the foreign students not making it in to their colleges of choice. It made me feel better because these students that I had put up on a pedestal didn't turn out to be as high and mighty as I thought they were. It made me feel like the things I want to do and the colleges I'm aiming for are culturally acceptable.
Whoa, now quickly on to "For Once Blame the Students." I just have one thing to say about this article. Teachers do make a difference about whether a kid wants to work hard in that class or not. If a teacher is super chill, a student probably isn't going to work that hard. If a teacher is super strict, students are going to be frightened into working hard. But, in some cases, I do agree with what Welsh says about looking at the foreign students' work ethic to see that education in America really is a privilege and not a right.
I like how Rose talked about Vocational Education and how teachers odn't know what to do with students who don't want to try. I think that since both my parents are teachers and I know how much they get frustrated with students that don't try hard is the reason that I try hard in school. I feel that I owe that much to my teachers. I could relate to the title quote: "I Just Wanna Be Average." I know that I have expected less for myself because I thought other students were better than me and because if I set my expectations low, when/if I surpass them, I will feel even better.
Technology hates me. It does. Don't try to dispute the fact, it's futile. My iPod dies every day, my phone freezes often, and my laptop doesn't register what I type. Life is so hard.
Can I just tell you how much I enjoy Modern Family? The writers for that show are comedic geniuses. The actors have impeccable comedic timing. Phil Dunphy reminds me of my dad. Please tell me you've watched Modern Family. No?
I just died inside.
You really should. It's a great show about normal families in America. (Even though one family is a gay couple with an adopted Asian baby, one man is in his second marriage with a woman in her second marriage that is 25 years younger than he is, and the last family has 3 kids and a dad that is out of his mind. So yeah, totally normal.)
Last night, my family was too lazy to cook so we got Punch Pizza. I'd say that's a fair trade-off.
My cat has some sort of issue. Well, multiple issues. Apparently he ALWAYS NEEDS TO BE SITTING ON SOMETHING. Let me list a few things he enjoys to sit on: our recliner, the ground, my lap, my dad's lap, my mom's lap, the kitchen table, the refrigerator, the bathroom counter, the toilet, my bed, my pillow, my folder, my notebook, my textbook, our laptop, the piano, the TV stand, and, oh yeah, MY FACE.
Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I have cat hair in my mouth. How gross is that? But I allow his antics because I love him. Dave.
I like to play french horn. Please tell me you know what that is. If you don't, how are you my friend? French horn/music is my freakin' life! My french horn is my baby. Figuratively, obviously. I couldn't have actually given birth to it. It's bigger than my body. I play french horn in MYS (Minnesota Youth Symphonies) and don't even mention GTCYS to one of us. We despise them. I also am in a brass quintet, pit orchestra, marching band, and Wind Ensemble. Ths list is endless! Actually, no. It ends there. Here is an action shot:
Don't I look so professional? My horn is so shiny. I'm waffling back and forth about whether or not I should give my horn a name. What do you think: cheesy or awesome? Check this out: watch me! I'm not in this orchestra (I couldn't find any of my years) but this gives you a pretty good idea of what we do. We also don't normally have hundreds of singers to accompany us. This piece was just huge. Mahler is a beast. There are some major horn parts in this piece. Sorry the recording is pretty quiet.
Sometimes I am in awe of Obama as a speaker. I just watched his Back to School Speech at Benjamin Bannaker High School. Even with my volume on mute, I could tell he was speaking eloquently and informatively just by how he looked. First, he was wearing a suit. How much more professional can you get? Not much more. Second, he held himself very professionally. His posture always upright and formal, but he never looked stiff or uncomfortable. Also, he made eye contact with the members of the audience which makes him more relatable and credible because he is talking right to them. His limited use of hand gestures strengthened the point he was trying to make. He never gestured profusely just for the sake of moving his hands around. He used gestures to emphasize a statement. Lastly, he used the inflection of his voice to his advantage. His voice projected throughout the whole gymnasium without sounding overbearing. He didn't use much cadence or range in his voice because he wasn't trying to rally the audience, but he did become quieter when he wanted people to listen more closely and he pronounced words clearly so the audience could understand him.
Obama knew that his audience was varied (from kindergarteners to highly educated teachers) and his diction was logically chosen to cater to all of them. He used simple sentences with powerful words that kindergarteners could understand, but also impressed teachers. He knew not to use long sentences with elevated vocabulary because his audience would have been easily distracted. His purpose wasn't to rally the audience so there weren't many phrases that provoked vocal reactions from the crowd. Instead, he wanted to motivate students to have a plan for the future and to keep pushing ahead to achieve what they want to achieve. To do this, Obama used empowering language, such as "you're this country's future" and "whether we fall behind or race ahead in these coming years is up to you." These statements motivated me, along with other students all over the nation, to strive for excellence and be the best student I can be.
Obama used many emotional appeals to elevate his speech. The statements I listed above are examples of pathos because they make a person feel like they can go and conquer anything. Also an example of pathos was when Obama was talking about the sacrifices teachers make. He said that "[teachers] don't do it for a fancy office or a big salary. They do it for you." This definitely sparked emotions in me. I felt honored that teachers make all this sacrifice in order to make our future better. I also felt like now I need to work harder to show that their hard work has paid off. He used a lot of ethos in his speech, too. All of the times he referred to himself, he was using ethos by establishing his credibility. For example, when he talked about his time in high school and how he wasn't the best student and didn't really like his classes, he established his credibility because he was explaining a time when he was in our shoes. We, as students, are more inclined to listen to someone who knows what we are going through, so by using that example, Obama brought himself to our level and we believed the things he was saying. Lastly, he used logos to provide students with examples of what they could be doing and what they needed to be doing. When Obama included the statistics about how 60% percent of the jobs in 10 years will require a degree higher than a high school diploma and that America is ranked 16th in the world based on the number of college degrees per our population, he influenced the audience by using logic and reasoning. It is kind of a shocker statistic that appeals to the audience by making them work harder. He also used logos when he included the examples of teenagers across the nation that were doing tremendous things to benefit society. That made me want to strive to do more things, even though they might not be like what those kids did.
Obama is a very influential and commanding speaker.
Sorry this got to be so long but it is brimming with analysis!
Tapioca pudding is fancy cottage cheese.
Cupcakes are fancy muffins.
Donuts are fancy bagels.
Veal is fancy beef.
Potatoes au gratin are fancy cheesy potatoes.
Blacks cannot associate with whites, be close to whites, do anything for whites, marry whites, be treated like whites, go the same places as whites, or have any of the same rights as whites. That's totally fair, right?
SARCASM.
My gosh, I can't believe some people actually believed that blacks had diseases and if we got too close we would catch them. First of all, Africans were the first to create a civilization and thrive from it. They were here thousands of years before white Europeans were, yet they were the ones being discriminated against. One example is a law that North Carolina had about the militia. They claimed that white and colored soldiers would have to be separately enrolled and could never serve in the same organization. I think that whoever is willing to risk their life to protect and fight for our country should be granted the same rights and respect as everybody else, no matter their color.
Another example of a completely preposterous law is one that Louisiana about attending circuses and public performances. Multiple races were expected to attend, but each race had their own door to enter in and their own ticket takers and recievers. However, the separate races had to be at least 25 feet apart at all times. Really? That seems like an absurd thing to say. Think of what it would be like today if we had that law. Husbands and wives would be separated and where would their half-white/half-black children go?
Am I crazy for thinking these things? I sure don't think so.
I was at nerd camp. Yay!! 10 hours of playing my french horn dotted with a few times to eat, sleep, and be merry. I swear I'm going to have a permanent dent in my leg from resting the bell of my french horn there. It was super fun, though. I learned some new card games ( Egyptian Ratslap and that one that Grace taught me that I don't know the name of) and bonded with a lot of new people. Oh and we had some tea and crumpets with Manny Laureano while playing Star Wars. Just a normal day at the Symphony retreat.
We did some tai chi. There was a butterfly flying around while we were tai chi'ing and I took it as a very symbolic sign. I was probably overanalyzing. Did you know there is such a thing as a tai chi conga line? Figured that one out the hard and meditative way...
This guy wrote a short story about scrambled eggs. Who does that? It was such an unconventional title which got me to thinking, "So this is what Mrs. Cardona was talking about when she said a title should draw you in and make you want to read it." I definitely wanted to read William Kennedy's essay and I wasn't even disappointed when he stopped talking about scrambled eggs because the way he told his story was so intriguing. It was mostly a dialogue between himself and his dad, but the lines weren't new paragraphs each time. The dialogue was formatted in a continuous paragraph which made me read through it quicker and more intently. I also quite like it when he said he should have know that "Eggs" was awful. I should know that about some of the pieces I write but it's hard for me to admit it and I love that he admitted it so blatantly.
In Pat Conroy's piece, she kept me interested by switching between complete sentences and what I thought to be fragments. Every sentence she had me questioning what I was reading. She incorporated both humor and horror into her work which made every paragraph something new. This story was very personal and that was something that drew me to it because all of the emotions she wrote had actually happened. I really enjoyed the descriptions of the things around her, using great adjectives and great nouns for imagery. The line saying that someting is only real if you write it down is something I think that is very relevant to today and it was a great note to end on because it kept the reader thinking.
Obviously I write to get my point across. It's also pretty useful to know how to write.
I also write to express my emotions. Like right now. I'm angry. Super duper angry. And as I'm sitting at my computer banging on the keys and writing super fast, I am relieving my stress and anger and tension in a beautiful and artistic form. How's that for convenient?
My first experience with writing was poetry. I think that happened when I was like 9 or 10. Sure, I wrote some stuff for school before then, but it was required so that doesn't really count. Sometimes I would start my poem off with an idea but I would never finish it. That happened a lot, actually. Sometimes I would write poems for a purpose. I remember when I was like 11 or 12, I wrote a poem to my parents for their anniversary. I remember that most of the poem was comprised of the different courses of the meal that they had that night. Lame, right? But I wrote it because I knew it would have emotional significance to my parents.
I also write because I think it's a beautiful thing to do. I like to write songs a lot because they can rhyme and, when put to music, convey a deep message. In my songs I usually write about kinda dreary things: not belonging, not being self-confident, and the like. I write like that because I love things that are beautiful and melancholy. And it's fun to come up with characters that have been in that place.
So why do I write? I write because it is the easiest way to express yourself and express what you're thinking to others.
I got some chocolates today. My boyfriend gave them to me. From England. Cue the oooh's.
It's a big bag of chocolates called the "Sharing Mix." I shared with a few people in advisory but then I became selfish. UGH I know, not an admirable quality. But all you girls out there know what happens when something or somebody comes between you and your chocolates. I'm probably going to get fat by the end of the bag. THANKS ZAC.
Also about the chocolates: the handle ripped off when I opened the bag so I had to awkwardly carry the bag around without a handle. But I'm not bitter or anything.
Hm.
Today, in marching band, a really unfortunate fashion choice was made. To march you have to have the "proper footwear" so I store a pair of heavy-duty sneakers in my band locker. However, I was wearing a body-con skirt (for those of you who don't follow fashion, click here). I can only rock so much fashion and, let me tell you, I could not rock the sneaker/skirt combo. I was not alone, though. Fellow marching band-ites can sympathize because many of them were in the same position I was. We should form a focus group.
