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Thursday, May 26, 2011

L...

Is for the way you look at me.

"Love" is a verb that is used too much and not enough. There is no flat-out wrong way to use it, people just have various "levels" of it, I guess. I love writing. I love chocolate. I love having a computer. I love communicating with the people I enjoy. I love the people I enjoy.

I just announce what I truly love when it gets to the more serious part of the spectrum. I hope this makes sense. Essentially, I have problems telling people I love them. I have problems expressing closeness, too, such as hugs and whatever else happens in an all-girl's school. That includes other things, but the fear in that case is justifiable.

I guess I can start with eye contact, since you are supposed to be able to do that with strangers. It's the first physical sign that you are interacting with someone and you are actually paying attention. It can make or break a first impression. To this day, I wonder if my lack of eye contact has made people feel like I was snobby or that I just didn't like them. Sorry. I don't know why I can't make eye contact. It's not like I'm scared. I do this with parents, too. Damn it, my own parents, I can't make eye contact with my own parents. I put on this eye makeup and whatever and I can't even look at a person in the freakin' eye.  Some people have really pretty eyes, too, and that's terrible to miss.

I've tried to work on it, but every single time I *think* about it, I just think and think and think about it and it becomes uncomfortable. The one time I AM able to keep eye contact, it's with a person who has the same damn eye thing. She ended up looking away a lot because that's just her thing, like it is my thing. We probably ended up looking like a bunch of goddamn idiots who were hating the conversation. It was a meaningful conversation, too! We were expressing our general disgust for busy work. Looking back, it's the sort of conversation middle-aged friends would have after not seeing each other since college. I'll work on it some more… I just wish it would come naturally. It's a human thing. It should not even be thought about.

O is for the only one I see.

I like it when a conversation is carried between people who, for this brief moment of human interaction, are only paying attention to the people involved. I believe that it is during these moments where human reach a point of clarity and understanding with one another. Our minds are a collection of nervous activity, I believe, and it's just fascinating to think that another human is experiencing the same neural reactions as you are. Regardless of how much I seem to avoid your eyes, I like being able to talk. It's deep, man. I attempt to make up for my eye crap by trying to get what's going on in other people's heads. Of course it's seldom correct. But I like to listen.

I cannot stress how important it is to listen to someone else. Gosh.  I read a forum post on how one guy shut up for a whole month, and did nothing but laugh and listen. He would only speak in Spanish, if need be. People found that they were comfortable with him. He actually began to care about others, instead of figuring out a way to say something about his OWN life.

It's a fact, people love to talk about themselves. People also love to talk about other people, and people like to hear about other people. But it's mostly ourselves. People also seem to show off their knowledge, or whatever other talents they have. It's knowledge that seems to be the one with the most words. It reaches a point where the listeners tune you out. They go through the motions of listening, the nodding, the "mmhm", the "oh" and it gradually comes to an end. One-sided conversations make both sides look foolish. I like talking WITH people, not TO people, same as I like being talked with. I don't want a lecture in which one is trying to make me seem stupid. I am the only person who can make me look stupid. If others attempt to, it's easy to play it off and seem cool, mysterious, and sexually appeasing. True facts.

V is very very… my gosh this post is not really flowing as well as I thought it would. See, the purpose was to go down and address why I acted like I did. It's just a muddle of thoughts. Oh. Oh.

Extraordinary.

I'll jump to physical human contact now. Hugs. This is a perfectly good reason; I was just never hugged as a child. I was really shocked when I came to high school and everyone was just all about hugs and linking arms. I didn't know how to respond, and even now I find it difficult for me to fully return a hug. It's like the eye contact thing, but the next level with people you are closer to. Hugs fell good, that's an empirical fact, scientifically proven. But they are like contact lenses. You have to get used to them and they have to be the right prescription from the right brand. Glomps from friends are fine, but I'ma send a ho to hell if they attack me as a stranger. It's part of the reason I am not attending anymore anime conventions. You read horror stories about people getting glomped by total STRANGERS. Nope. From friends, I've just learned to accept it, and it is no longer an issue, nor was it really a major one. Just from strangers… Lordy. You eventually get comfortable enough with your contact lenses that you can just wake up and be all fine and stuff with slipping them in. Those are like friend hugs. That's cool, that's fine. But imagine picking up contacts from the floor and putting them into your eye. No. It's a no.

I still don't know how to initiate a hug. When I came back to school after the summer, a friend and I planned to hug. We both overthought it and it was awkward. We never hugged again. On the first day back, later on, a girl hugged me. Total stranger. Or so I thought. I thought it was a girl who didn't like me last year. I was like "damn." and then I realized she was my 8th grade friend. So it was like "'kay, cool." Damn hugs. I do like hugs though. I like them now. They make me feel happy.

E is even more than anyone that you adore can
...
Love is all that I can give to you.

No. Not really. It's really hard for me to just announce that. I do love my friends. I can type that with ease. They are family. Not "like" family. They are family. But I really can't just go and announce that. Again with the overthinking. It's so odd to be able to tell who is saying it just for fun, or who actually means it.

I gave someone the homework numbers for something this year and they said they loved me. Bitch please. You don't love me. You don't even know me. The hell you thinking about? We haven't even had a damn conversation. You don't love me. I gave someone a pencil, too. "Oh my gosh, love you." No. You don't. Stop saying that to me. "Thank you," is fine, it's perfect. Maybe a smile. As long as you don't lie to my face.

I am pissed at that, yes. It's supposed to be special, is it not? Maybe it's the all-girl schooling set-up that brings up this situation. Maybe I'm being a hard-ass. My response to the people who claim to love me for doing something simple… a smile. Nothing else. I hope that they see the bubbling overreaction to their girly declarations behind it. I hope they can read the rage behind my crinkled pseudoAsian eyes. I don't even know if "pseudo" was used correctly there, but it sounds cool. Dictionary.com sort of messes it up, but for the sake of this post, please don't go there.

That's why I never say "I love you back." Or if I do, I feel weird while saying it. I know some are genuine, but I've never had the practice with saying it. Just like hugs. Chances are, if you are reading this, you already know that I consider you one of the people I consider family. Unless you are that i_love_weed guy. He never comments anymore and it... it hurts, i_love_weed. I miss you. I'm not going to say I love you because all you did was leave a comment on a post I made. I DON'T LOVE YOU, i_love_weed, I can't love you. I sort of expect you to one day pop up out of nowhere and leave a particularly nasty comment. I will be forced to mention you once again, and twist your words into something nice, like a backhanded compliment. 

Don't get me wrong, I had a normal childhood. It was just void of hugs and eye contact and "I love you". I think more harm would have been done if my parents starved me of all attention. You know how kids seek out the things that were kept form them? Who knows, I could become a jump-hugger who glares at people, loving every single thing that they do. I love you the way you read this sentence. And I like the way you managed to finish reading this post. Jump-hugging is like glomping, but with more airtime. You have to be able to leap up, spot your target while in air, float, and squeeze. Float and squeeze.  

Ladies, and gentlemen, but mostly ladies…

SUMMER 2011. 

Sunday, May 22, 2011

One Year.

I was browsing one of my favorite websites instead of studying for finals. Not very motivated at all, and I fear it will lead to my academic demise. Summer is a hair away. Not even a thick strand of hair, more like one of my hairs after it has undergone pressing and burning in an attempt to make it look good. I am considering doing that today, for the hell of it. The only thing getting away from my passionate affair with summer... finals. So I'm sort of ignoring them...when I said I wouldn't. Damn it. After this post, I will study, promise.

ANYWAY, I saw a thread that asked what happened in a year's time. How exciting. So I'll answer that here.

This time last year...hm right before finals, yet again. I was not really worried. I didn't check NetView as obsessively as I do now... which probably would have helped. I do regret that. I ended up failing the math final, which knocked me out of Honors math. It was a kick in the cervix. 

But then summer came, and I sort of forgot about it. It was challenging... not one of those good challenges that makes you feel good for getting them over with. It was the type where it stresses you out and even if you do "win" you don't feel any better. I learned to accept my loss.

I learned to accept a lot of not-so-great things in the past year. Like, little things that used to bother me don't seem so important anymore. With unfortunate memories, I just breathe in and count to 10. After that, I just constantly repeat that I accept it and can move on. It's soooooo wonderful to NOT remain hung up on the bad stuff, let me tell you. I think this is one of my favorite changes.

Another thing I realized was that cutting out negative things from your life is amazing. Specifically people. It took a few months... and then I was sort of free. In one particular class... I was stuck with someone who constantly stressed out about grades. Nothing wrong with that, but it got to the point where it was making her unhappy. In turn, it made me unhappy too. Like I wasn't trying as hard as she was. It didn't matter if I was happy with where I was, all that mattered was that my grades weren't perfect. Her negativity stressed me out, and everytime she complained, I found that it had an affect on my grades. Maybe that's an excuse, but I know what happened. There came a time where I switched classes and suddenly, that stress was gone.

She's not a bad person, just a bad influence. I hope that you understand the difference. This leads me into people and the change in my friendships. This year, I had to move out of that freshman friend mentality. I realized that I cannot be friends with everyone, and that is definitely for the better. Still, I am split between a few groups, and still I am trying to split up time equally amongst them, but this year... it has gotten slightly better. I've realized who my actual friends are. What I do not yet know is how to cut the other negative influences form my life.

I've learned how to say "no" to something that I didn't want to do. There were a few times this year where people I trusted would try to get me to do things. I was confused, because I thought they cared about me enough to realize that doing certain things would hurt. I was angry at those people for a while because I
felt like they were only looking out for themselves. I have to decide whether or not to tell them before it's too late and the rest of their peers start to call them out on it. 

This year, I've learned that some people simply do not think the way I do, and sometimes, the difference in our thought patterns makes for a very poor friendship. More importantly, I've learned that those who DO care for me, truly do and I should show more appreciation. 

I've learned that talking to teachers and seeing them as people helps your grade. I've learned that doing this.. sort of treating them as parent-figures, helps you pay more attention in class. Well, in some cases. I've learned that homework grades do make a difference and every little thing adds up.

I've learned that the people I once thought were perfect...are not even close. I've learned that the people I was once afraid of... are some of the best people I know. I've learned that forgiveness is one of the most significant things one must master in order to live a good life. I've learned that petty drama is for whores and I'm glad that my people are aware of that. 

I've learned that people only affect you as much as you let them. You can accept advice, and you can refuse it. You can use the mistakes of others to learn, and "donate" the experiences from your own mistakes. Some people are just good people for you. Some people are just placed there to make you a better person, as you do the same. Some people are the opposite. 

Smiling really does help. Laughter does too. Being able to act stupid with those you enjoy is one of the best feelings in the world. Popularity does not matter at all. It's perfectly fine to sit back and not stress about anything. It's fine to be able to sit back and just watch the sky and just smile. 

I've learned to ask for permission before taking something. Earlier this year, a certain history teacher ranted a bit at several students who attempted to take doughnuts from the front of the class. It was such a... hilariously serious rant on the topic of food, but... it's true.

It's better to listen more and speak less. I have to practice this. We all like to talk about ourselves, but it can get very annoying. Some opinions should be kept secret. 

Sometimes you just have to let people be happy. Not everyone requires your permission to have a good time. in fact, no one does. Unless it involves harming you in the name of humor. I've learned that happiness is contagious. So is sadness. 

Different people like different things and that's ok. I've learned that pretending to like something only makes you look stupid. I'm sure people can sense it. I do. 

Don't not do something because someone else didn't like it. Do what you want to do. I know this clashes with my "learning form other's mistakes," but in some cases, do it yourself.Don't trust everyone, and don't make promises you can't keep. DO NOT MAKE PROMISES YOU CANNOT KEEP.

I've learned that computers are people, too, and you should treat them with care. I've learned that you should write down ideas before you forget them and curse at yourself. I've learned to not curse so much in public places... working on it. I've learned to cherish good times, and disregard other times.

I've learned that becoming your own person is one of the best things eveeerrr. Yes, other people shape you, but in the end, it is you. I am really really happy the way I am. I know I am not perfect. This time last year, there were so many things I wanted to change. Two years ago, it was worse. I went into my sister's room earlier this week and saw she had a list of the things she wanted to change about herself. I felt bad because I did the same thing at her age.

I hope she finds herself, too. I hope we all do. One day, I hope we can all learn to accept ourselves and love ourselves for being ourselves. I wonder if my middle school-me would think present-me is cool. Probably not. Middle school-me would consider me a failure. :) Middle school-me was a stupid person. College-me is proud. I know it. 

However, next year-me is going to look back on it and...well, I don't know... we'll see.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Waaaaah.

Those meaningful moments I've mentioned earlier. I have remembered some of them. I was listening to 80s music, and before that, thinking about how this year has gone by. With all of its changes, it's been overwhelming. But we are done. I say that because... we are not going to see each other as much in the next week in the same building. Not as much as we used to.

Those moments usually happened at night. I don't mean like that. But it's around that time where you're so unbelievably tired and your words sort of mash together and your thoughts don't make sense. You start to leave out words from sentences, but you can still be understood. You laugh at stupid things. And by stupid things, I mean normal things like trees.

Sleepovers. When you fall asleep in the middle of a conversation, or awkwardly end one because you honestly cannot function. Usually around 4 AM. And when you wake up, you come to the realization that you guys can survive a sleepover without hating each other. Not that it was an issue. And then you spend the morning eating breakfast and watching cartoons. Or maybe watching White Chicks and having a mini-dance party after it. Or bringing in the New Year with glowsticks and manscreams.

Facebook conversations almost every single day, talking of math grades and videos. Those mindblowingly scary videos.

Oh, baking adventures. I will never forget when someone invited me to their house to make homemade cookies for the first time in my life. You know who you are. The thought that someone would want me in their kitchen, not as an accessory, or someone to show off to, but to teach and let me help... is amazing. I do it at home, too.

After school. Whether it's roaming the hallways, or sitting under the Bio Stairs. Shooing guys away and feeling shitty afterwards. Reading books in weird accents. Shooting the bull about homework and stuff and then suddenly jumping into other topics. Constantly getting caught by teachers in the midst of awkward phrases. Staying really really late during an early dismissal day to do random stuff. Hell, even serving as an awkward bystander over Skype on the second floor, attempting to study for chemistry. Our study session never ever work. Encountering cupcakes and doing the right thing. Supernoting. Analyzing a poster for about an hour to understand what was going through the minds of certain cartoonists.

Lunch. Almost every single day this year, the lunch adventure. Sunkist, fries, maybe something else. Lunch ladies start to notice how my bills are always large. Being able to squeeze into a random spot on the Courtyard and usually you will be able to engage in a conversation.

I cannot single out one grand moment. Perhaps that moment will come in the future. The one thing that troubles me is the fact that my time has to be split up between groups. Both are equally important to me, and I don't always show it.

Sorry guys, I just have a lot of feelings right now. Two romance movies in one day, plus an 80s playlist on Youtube... yeah, no. It's girly and all, but I feel as though I must thank you. So thank you. Two more years. Kidding. I hope that this sort of thing will continue for longer than that. If not, I WILL harass you on Facebook, even after you decide you want to take us off your "family" list. I've been worrying about that. The fact that you have to explain it. The fact that one day... some of those people will have to be taken off, and you don't know whether you should be the first. It's more of a sign, I guess. I mean, you'll always know... it's just that others won't.

I guess... this year, this is my version of the end-of-the-year video. There was just no time. If anything, I promise to make a Senior one. I do. I promise. You too? You too.

I'm going to try to watch more Dirty Dancing clips...

Little Children.

There is a small human being who can barely fit his arms around his head alive in my home. He sort of waddles when he walks. I like to look at the top of his head when he is running around, because it makes me feel so tall. He's a little human. In my home. He's not even three feet tall. It's so cute.

I'm not terribly fond of lolcatz. I find them annoying, for I do not see the humor in their admittedly clever captions. I do like the pictures though. I could look at videos of kittens and rabbits and other creatures for hours.  But children are different. Children are powerful imps.

Little children are annoying, but when they hug you, it's like you're eating caramel-covered brownies. Little kids are so freaking short. AH. You can nudge their heads to make them move like prodding small cattle. You can teach them that frosting is actually celery and they will live a large chunk of their lives thinking that. And years down the line, when they are in public, and they say, "I want celery on my cake," everyone will be like "HAHAHAHwhat" And it will be lame.

Toddlers are just the right size. You can easily pick them up, provided you have experience. It's like handling  a dog for the first time. I almost dropped one in front of a large group of people. Not a kid, a dog. Hahahahawkward.

Kids who don't yet know how to read are the best. You can make up stories about them. OH MY GOSH, the little kid just giggled. Ah, I love his giggle. It's like the kind where you push air through your throat, and your neck is sort of crunched up. It's like a mix of that and that laughter you hear in every commercial involving kids. You know the one. It's like...a cascading waterfall. I've tried to mimic it but it never works.

When a little kid draws on your math homework, you should feel honored. Back in 8th grade, the little one drew in brown marker all over my history book.The guy across from me had the best look on his face, while I kept on reading out loud. He's starting to draw faces now, and they're funny because you know... KIDS.

When kids make funny faces, it's cute. Not like adults. Picture all of your teachers with a stupid funny face. HAHAHHAHA. Yes.

SIDE NOTE: Facebook users, what the hell? You guys come up with the best fake middle names ever. Some are understandable, but "G'Money" wen your mother is the dean of students at my old middle school? No, baby. No. Heh. G'Money.

Little kids dancing is cute. He knows how to pelvic thrust. And my sister taught him. My family is odd. We like to scream at each other for no reason. I also taught my brother to call himself a buttface while thinking he was insulting my sister. I'm a bad sister. That's actually one of my regrets. I'll unteach him this weekend.

AHA, buttface is such an immature insult.

Watching little kids sleep is awesome. They are like kittens in tiny blankets. THEY SNORE. When you poke them in an attempt to wake up, they just switch sides. So cute. Their hands are so tiny. I want to bite their noses.

They're going to grow up and corrupt themselves with older people around our age.

Good night, this is weird.

Free Time.

I just feel like writing. Why? I can. I have time. It's a Thursday and there is no school tomorrow. That day will be spent in solitary confinement, with nothing but Whitney Houston, baby wipes, Pringles, and WebAssign reviews. Baby wipes just smell really great. This brings me pleasure. I feel like writing because I am bored. The good bored, where you are not yet finished with everything, but you have more than enough time to do it. I'm sorry for blatantly lying.

I like to browse Reddit. It's a... well, I'll be vague and say it's a forum. People post, people comment, people lurk. Every once in a while, you come across a gem. It's a wonderful way to relax. Just open up a bunch of tabs and go through every one of them. Some of the posts are thought-provoking. You actually get to meet some of the big, bad scary people hiding behind the veil of Internet Anonymity. And they're honestly misunderstood, broken people like the best and rest of us. It's great.

I came across one where someone asked, "What was the most meaningful experience you've had with another human being?". I wish I could answer that in less than an essay-length comment. I find that the most meaningful are the little ones, in which you get to know a smidge more about someone every time. Like peeling off stickers from tests to slap on your computer. Slowly... with care... maybe silent laughter.

(Interruption: I feel like I might as well write down random thoughts. My math teacher today drew a really odd cylinder, and I cannot keep from bursting into sniggles when I picture it. I was laughing behind my computer screen in class. It's not even funny when I say it out loud, or when I type it out. But damn it, it makes me happy. Happy cylinder.)

Anyway, some of the posts in this thread are just warm. Warm things are the best. People are warm .hugs are warm. So are good cookies. Cold ones are fine, but that's like settling for turkey bacon when you can grow balls and find actual bacon. Turkey bacon ain't got no problems, either.

Baby tears were formed during the reading of this thread. I freaking love babies and small children. So innocent, care-free, so damn cute. Baby vomit has this unique smell to it. It's sort of sweet. Like baby formula, mixed with adorable stomach acid. Aw. I would not drink it, but if Jelly Belly came out with a Baby Vomit flavor to include in those damn packs, I would eat it. The fish-flavored ones are SO accurate. How do you capture that? Hm?

Guys, I'm just really happy for everyone. It's scary because for this one moment in time, everything is close to perfect. The worst has yet to come. I want everything to freeze and stay this way. I don't ever want to go back to a time where things were different. But I know we're in the middle of something, and we'll have to go on. But everyone just seems to be really happy... on the outside.

I am happy when others are happy... or just calm. Not bothered by other things. Wait, I take this break to inform us that not everything is alright, of course. One really really really good friend that many of you know has been informed that her grandmother has cancer, so I ask you to keep her in your thoughts, prayers, what have you.

And just there, nothing can be "perfect" for everyone at the same time. You start to feel a bit guilty. It's hard to enjoy something when you know someone else is having a hard time. Rightfully so. Things are breaking, and things are going to continue to break. This is what I hate about being so cheerful sometimes.

Something out there, one little thing is going to happen and everything will unravel. And we'll be left with building it up again. It's like true happiness is teasing us, and it keeps on cheating on us with those who don't "deserve" it.

Yes, you could isolate yourself completely in a palace with abundant resources. No one in danger of leaving or hurting you, except for yourself. And you will hurt yourself.

*Breath out*

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Education.

*Boring post ahead. Stay tuned for a disturbing SURPRISE. Brought to you by Acifex, which sounds like a-*

My brother is learning how to write. He's left-handed, which is pretty nifty. So begins his journey which will hopefully continue for the next 20 years. No, hopefully it will go on longer than that. I wish he will never stop learning. I wish the same for all of my friends and family members. We don't think about this as often as we should. We take our education for granted, and that leads to laziness, which inevitably leads us to a life in which we can never reach true satisfaction.

Why do I value education so much? The answer is in my parents. My mother never completed college. She wants to go back and finish it, because she knows there is more out there. My father flunked 11th grade, yet he did continue on to get a degree, and is still interested in getting a Masters. They know what life is like with no regard for education. They made sure I knew it, too. Countless stories, half-listened to by my sister and I, instilled a love of learning. And when I get older, I hope to spread this to my kids.

Now that my brother is finally willing to read and write, the whole family is ecstatic. He started pretty late. He is not slow. And whenever I refer to someone as being slow, I mean it in a nonsensical sense. The reason behind it also ties in with this post. My uncle is slow. He is mentally retarded, and his education was never taken to the next level because so many people doubted him. Not just that, but our family simply doesn't have the money to do what we should have. I take the word "retard" seriously. A few weeks ago, my mother was beginning to worry that my brother was on the same path of missed opportunities.

My uncle is not a failure. My brother is not one either. Both are capable of doing whatever the hell they want to do, even if society says otherwise. Guys… he's writing now. It just makes me so happy. He is using the same type of books my uncle used at the age of 15. It's hard to type this… and some people may not "get" it, since they are not faced with it. I just ask for simple understanding.

It is only this year that I figured this out. It may not be completely correct, but here goes. The key to basic success is absorption and processing of information, memorization and repetition until familiarity is reached, and application to real-world situations when it is called for. The key to being intelligent is knowing when to publicize your education and when to hold back. I wrote this down after thinking about why education is so important. It grew from a few words to a pleasant semi-paragraph. For me, this is motivation. I've had this on my desktop for a while.

It saddens me to see how people are wasting their education. I understand that we like to check emails in class, and watch videos and Stumble. Hell, I did it. But it changed after that 43 on a chemistry midterm this year. A 43. That's worse than just failing. It showed my teacher that I really hadn't paid attention in class, and I didn't care. What's worse, it is an honors class, where all students are expected to do their best. That 43 was not my best. From then on, I made damn sure to pay attention in every class.

Once I cut down how much time I spent on email and other crap, I realized how… dare I say, fun learning became. I enjoyed being able to comprehend things in class, as opposed to ignoring it, then attempting to get the information from a book later on. I set a new standard for myself in terms of information retention.

Teachers became people to me. I actually saw them as more than robots spewing boring words. I looked them in the eyes and actually listened. It made sense. Funny how it took years to get it "right." Funny how I'm still getting it wrong occasionally. This new mindset doesn't stay within school walls. I need to adopt it at home.

That means less Facebook and Reddit. I do not joke when I say I hate Facebook. It's a waste of time. And it's all my fault for not being able to pull away. Hours go by, with no notifications, and pages of people I have never seen have been stalked. At the expense of my grades. I want to stop. I've tried. I've installed add-ons that automatically shut you out of Facebook after 30 minutes, but getting back on it is dependent on one little check box. Fuck that check box.

I always find myself saying this near the end of every year. I wish I would have tried harder. I wish I would have paid attention at the very beginning. I wish I would have done my homework and I wish I would have studied instead of wasting time. "There's always next year," yeah, but that's Junior year. That's the year that counts.

Once a student has been labeled "smart," their own standards start to lower. They don't study as much, because they think they don't need to. They don't even develop study habits. They become lazy and place all of their faith on those few congratulatory documents they received that praise their minor accomplishments. And once they get to high school, where things become hard, and you actually have to TRY, they fall behind. And now it's a struggle to get back up.

Essentially, it doesn't matter how "gifted" you are, it's how much you work. And again, it's not so much mow MUCH you work, it's how efficiently you work.

I want to get into Rice. That's my dream. I've had people put it down. I've had people question my desire to go there. I've had one person tell me that they don't like it, and they think I shouldn't either. That's too bad. I can't pinpoint why I like it so much. The fact that it's in my city, or the small urban feel to it. That fact that it's a challenge to get into. Or that my father has bought an abundance of t-shirts from their campus store. I've just loved it. That feeling you get where you just know that you'll fit. I didn't even feel that when I came into my current school. I'm stressed because the acceptance rate is around 21%. This thing is going around saying they only accepted 25 students from the area one year. SAT scores must be perfect, you must be at the top of your class, and you must have stellar EC's. Workin' on it, and so far… it's… not… 

I have this feeling that I would not make it if I applied. Yet, I know I am going to apply because if I didn't, the sliiiiight possibility of making it would haunt me for years. If I don't make it, yes, I would weep. I'd be mad at myself for being stupid during my Sophomore year. I'd be pretty pissed at the Admissions Office for not wanting me. If I did make it, I would weep, too. Like, that feeling that comes with getting something you've wanted for so long.

Education, along with love, is one of the most important things to me. I'll defend my right to receive one, as well as the rights of any one who is denied one, such as my uncle. I'll do all I can to educate my brother. Yes, I get fed up, but I want him to love it as much as I do.


Weh.



Saturday, May 14, 2011

Wishful(?) Thinking.

Who hasn't fantasized about their dream home? Who hasn't experienced speechlessness when they enter the "humble" abode of someone they know? Some people like shoes, some like fine china, I like... I like both. And houses.

The thought of one day residing in a perfect home makes me shrivel up in joy. When I think about it, I squish my cheeks together and squint my eyes because it is just so... wonderful. It's a symbol of independence and one of the most showy forms of creativity. It's a sign of what you are and what you like. When you invite people in, you are saying, "This is all I am and all that I aspire to be. This is more than where I sleep and eat. This is more than a simple building. This is me."

I'm just really excited about something that I will probably never fully have. It's that little bit of hope that keeps me so focused on what I want to do in the future. Basically, make enough money to obtain this thing, and maintain the right amount of happiness in order to enjoy this. Unfortunately, money is a huge factor.

I'm not rich. Middle class, I suppose. Ain't nothing wrong with that. Ain't nothing wrong with being poor or wealthy either. This obsession with having a fantastic home in the future is probably a manifestation of my ever-swelling psychological desire to get a better home than what I am in now.

Don't get me wrong. I'm expecting the whole "home-is-where-the-heart-is" schpiel. I believe "schpiel" is a word. I am aware that it is really not what you have that counts, it's what you do with it and most importantly, who is there with you regardless of your monetary status. I am so grateful that I am actually able to sleep under a roof and have my own room. I realize how damn important that is. I realize how much someone would give up in order to live in my self-dubbed "lowly home."

But we live in a capitalist society in which everyone is trying to one-up the other, and if you don't have big dreams, yain't going very far. That's basically what has been shoved down my throat all these years. I understand that in reality, I'm going to settle down somewhere in a little Houston neighborhood, surrounded by other middle-class, cake-baking families, maybe with a husband, maybe without. I may get a cat, but I'm not sure science has gotten to the point at which they can genetically engineering antiallergy cats. I'm also not sure humans would go that far. I'd have bushes and maybe two trees in my front yard. Thing is, though this sounds like I am whining... I'm not. I look forward to it. I really do. Like I said, it's a symbol of independence, freedom. I'd hang trinkets up EVERYWHERE and I'd have Glade plug-ins in all of the rooms. I'd paint my bedroom purple.

Let the wish list begin!

The house would hopefully have stairs. Be it an official two-story house, or a one-story house where I convert the attic to a mold-free loft. The outside would be brick... perhaps. I'd hang fake plants outside, but people would think they are real. I'd have a nice porch with hard-wood floors and three giant pots. One of my current neighbors has three giant pots and one is artistically knocked over and I think it just works soooo freaking wonderfully. Their porch is tiled though... I kind of like that. The front yard would have one of those semi-circle driveways. Let's just make it official that my dream house would be two-story. I have never had that before and it's just.... one of those things. It's also necessary to clear that up because I want a staircase with a damn slide. A nicely-polished purple and neon green slide. Sweet mother of God. A slide. I shudder at the thought.

But let's still stay on the outside. The backyard would be HUGE. If I have kids, I want them to be able to invite their friends over and throw safe parties. Trampolines. Or one huge one. Even if I don't have kids, I want a trampoline. WITH A SLIDE that would lead to a 5 ft. pool with a jacuzzi. Oh, and the pool would change colors, but only purple and, you guessed it, neon green. Around the pool, I'd have beautiful arrangements of bushes, but not bushes that burglars could hide in during a night swim. A heated night swim, of course. The backyard porch would be tiled and have a gorgeous table with pretty lavender chairs. And connected to the house would be a bar. Oh, and I'd have Greek sculptures everywhere. 

The side of the house has a garage that is not attached. Maybe I'd ditch the semicircle driveway idea. Oh, forgot to mention, the house would be on a cul-de-sac. Love those. The garage would be nice, not scary. I don't know, it'd be rid of that odd echo sound that most garages have.. or don't have... I think. What else?

Every Christmas, my house would the "Best Dressed for the Holidays" awards, because I would DECK OUT. The most my family has decorated our house was slapping a wreath of our front door. We don't use it anymore.

INSIDE. First, all of the rooms would have dimmers. I fucking love dimmers. They can make bathrooms seem sexy. Second, potpourri bowls in every room, plus tasteful trinkets and other decor. The living room would consist of a giant deep purple fluffy rug. And bronze lamps. Love lamps. Oh, they can dim, too. The walls would be dark gold... but not shiny. Like, the good kind of gold. The TV would be white, and super awesome... surround sound, speakers everywhere. The couches, loveseat, and recliner chair would be the most comfortable thing ever to accommodate a butt. What else? Modern pictures. OH, and the exterior would be totally modern, windows, slants, diagonal architectural crap, all that good stuff. Forget about that. 

The resting room, I guess, where people sit randomly, would have a small table, fancy chairs, and footrests from IKEA. I'd have one large bookshelf in there, and on both sides, wall-mounted candle-holders. There would ALWAYS be a candle in them, no matter what. Oh, and can't forget those lamps. With dimmers.

KITCHEN. Totally modern kitchen. All of the works. Shiny black refrigerator, I would cook in the dimmed light, and the microwave would be attached to the shelves somehow. I've always liked that. It'd be lighted often, for I like to eat at unholy hours of the night, and I do not enjoy scares. 

All bathrooms would have really fancy showers. Like, I can't describe it, they are just...fancy. Not automatic toilets, I hate those. Eurgh. They'd have mirrors with those dressing-room lights around them, y'know? We have them now, and I'd like to keep them. They'd have rugs, too. And the toilet seats would be deep purple, too... and plushy, but smooth. The wall color would vary... don't know yet.
Man included. 

INTERRUPTION: I know all of these random specifications seem pretty normal to some of the people reading this. I'm aware. 

The bedroom would be purple themed...again. I would switch out bedsheet combinations every month or so, with more frequent washing, mind you. The bed would either be a bunk bed or a circular one. And you know what, I'd want a hammock in there...OR a swing hanging from ceiling, like that one room in Penelope. And like, and random tree outta nowhere, but a fake one. I'd have a speaker system set up, there too. I like to dance. Pictures, or course, and dimmers. AH. A nice night table with a dresser with a mirror somewhere near there...

I'd have a whole closet devoted to earring, necklaces, and hair stuffs. And another would be dedicated to clothes and this one will be HUGE and have a rotating rack, like the one in Hannah Montana. It'd have those 3 mirror set-ups, too. Two shelves devoted to shoes...maybe I'd fit the accessory dresser in that one. 
The closet leads to a secret room through a passageway that can only be opened if one tilts the bust of Lady Gaga 45 degrees. You've heard of mancaves, right? Yeah, some homes have a theater. Chairs, popcorn maker, everything. Plus the latest gaming systems.And a rotating DVD thingy. Yup, that. But it'd be pimped out in a feminine style. With purple. It's basically a party room. It'd have a recording studio attached. With a piano, a flute, bongos, and several acoustic guitars. Plus, band memorabilia, with a wall dedicated to Gaga and Muse. I'd have a section for the Gorillaz, too. In the main theater/party room, I'd have a projector screen that can show high-quality movies. That room would never be as bright as the others. I'd also have a DJ booth in there. And maybe a bar. Not necessarily with alcohol. But with food.. especially Ramen. I'd never run out of Ramen.  

Near that room, or somewhere else on the second floor, I'd have a game room. With a ball pit. And one of those weird... scary trampoline-like thingies. They are basically trampolines, but they are like garbage bags made out of tent-material and have a vacuum constantly blowing air into them, making it FUN AS HELL to jump on them. They have 'em at Fun-Plex. I'd also have bumper cars, only 4 of them, and they'd have their own large room with a disco ball. I also want a room made completely out of trampolines and another room with bubble wrap everywhere. And ping pong tables that can convert to a pool table. All of these rooms have sound systems, too. Maybe a room dedicated to old arcade games.
Yeuh, this is a bit much...
The backyard would have a hammock... better than the one in the bedroom. I would also like a hamster-tunnel-style transport system built in there. It may not physically pan out as expected. 

EDIT: Forgot the library. Oh, what a library this would be. The doors on the first floor that open it would be like...old Victorian, intricate doors. And inside... joy. It would be two stories high, FULL of books. Also, it'd have a 12 foot high waterfall, that was the source of a tiny river that led n and around my house. IN AND AROUND. Small fish would be in... but fake ones. 

Agh, looking back, this is pretty much unnecessary. I was just...struck by Cribs...or is it Cribz? I realized that if I have all of this, mostly the "fun" stuff, I wouldn't enjoy those rare occasions to go outside. I just want a house... a home that can keep me alive. No need for the extras... but the slide is just... it's so perfect. 

Seriously. Bed, fridge, working toilets, and we'll be happy.

A fast internet connection would be wonderful...

GAH, this is a rather odd post for me. I'm not usually like this. 

Friday, May 13, 2011

!

Yes, the title is an exclamation mark. The past few days have been an exclamation mark. As in, "AAAARRGH!" That's mostly frustration. But that's the last negative thing I will mention. It's Friday, you see. No one deserves to be frustrated on Friday. Everything is going swimmingly. In about a week, the right to be frustrated will return, and that's alright. It's like climbing a giant ladder, and the only way down is to go down the longest, funnest, most amazing water slide ever. Water slides are fantastic.

Have you ever had an out-of-body experience? I guess those are instances in which you are yourself, but you definitely don't feel like yourself, because you are aware that the you that you are is not yourself in the midst of realization. And you can see yourself. That happened today. Minus the seeing of myself from a different point of view. It's like... I did not exist, and not in the "no one notices me" kind of way, more like... it felt on to be on Earth.

Earth is capitalized, right?

Ah, now my logical skills are slowly deteriorating and I am questioning my thinking ability. Can I just spew random thoughts, now?

What if reincarnation is real, and we are all reincarnations of one entity. We all hate each other, like we hate ourselves. And we love each other, like we love ourselves. We gossip about others, so we put ourselves down. We compliment people, so we honor our own talents. A little less than what we do to bring down our collective self-confidence. But yes. Some of us are just lazy, but others work hard. Some are beautiful, some are ugly. We're all ugly and beautiful. We talk too much in some instance,s and don't talk enough. We don't say enough. We get annoyed at what others say. We get annoyed with ourselves.

And what of love? What's that? What is happiness? Are we not the happiest when we are surrounded by people we love? And we're supposed to love ourselves, right? So we do. But what if you can't? You can't love others?

And what of the competition that exists? Why must we be better than one another? In getting to the top, we must push others down. We do that on an individual level, too, huh? We sacrifice some of the best things in life to get to the top.

And sex. Sex is just one huge self-loving session. Why is it so censored if we all know what it is, or will soon know what it is? What is that supposed to mean? Why are we pleased with how some people look, and repulsed by others? Is it a collective feeling that symbolizes our fickleness or shallowness?

Personalities. What. We're all so so so different, yet we share so much in common. What if this one person that we all are is just a mix of different personalities. A giant self-diagnosed with identity issues. Not all of us even know ourselves yet, we're still finding out.

And childhood, teenhood, adulthood, then wisdom. We all go through it, and give advice to other versions of ourselves but why don't we follow it? This leads to authority. Why does it exist? Aren't you just telling yourself what to do? Don't we already do that?

Why do we fight? I know we are angry with ourselves, meaning each other, meaning ourselves. But why is there this constant struggle. You cannot go one single second without a conflict. Something extremely negative somewhere is happening. Sometimes we just cover it up better than ourselves... each other.

Our history class is watching a movie about Akbar the Great and it kicks carefully-shaved, lovingly-caressed ASS.

How incredibly odd.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

What's Next?

Quite a bit has happened in the past week. Aside from all of the stress brought about by an upcoming test, and the opportunity to formally write, my mind has been swinging on one of those carnival rides shaped like an Egyptian boat. On one end of the spectrum, there is total jubilation, head-numbing excitement about success. On the other, something horribly disappointing.

I've neglected my social life for the past week, it seems. In addition to lunch reviews and attempts at isolation to study/whimper, I've been arriving later and later. No more morning time. No lunch time. Very little after school time. And it's not even like sleep is making up for it. I'm getting less of it.

Oh, and the cherry on top of this ice cream cone of despair? I spent an hour or so reading threads on college forums about rejections. Before that, I spent hours on Y!A reading about failing the aforementioned upcoming test. I spent a few minutes letting all of this information build up inside and manifest in the form of bitchtears.

Bitchtears are tears shed where you cannot really justify them out loud. It's caused by internal turmoil and external influences. Bitchtears are tears that you cry when everything has been piling up, and one insignificant thing may happen, and it just all comes out. Bitchtears are for the weak. Bitchtears are for the strong. Bitchtears are human.

This certainly was a wake-up call. After reading that people with nearly perfect SAT scores and a crapload of extracurriculars got rejected from Rice, my dream school, I realized what I needed to do. Granted, this doesn't mean I'm going to do it. As much as I hate to type that, let's be realistic. I am quite lazy.

I'm sorry for posting about something so negative after a while of abandonment. I believe in balance, though. One very very very positive thing is that my nails are now painted to near-perfection and my shoes match. I brushed them delicately with an old toothbrush and a solution of water, bleach, and fairy pitsweat. It smelled like cherries. I also cleaned the shoelaces.

You know those little damned areas of darkness that ruin a perfectly good pair of bright white shoelaces? Only a week of usage, and they seemed to be dirty. DUTTY. I scrubbed them with the toothbrush, too, but it was not very effective. So I soaked them in bleach, then threw them in the washing machine.

This may not sound very positive, but hear me out. I thought it'd be clever to balance out one small bad thing (while college is, in fact, a very very big thing) with one small good thing.

I promise not to alter my form of writing because of a previously discussed development. I know I curse in here quite a bit. I just cannot mention my school's name now. All will be well.

Stressed? Not anymore! What happened, happened, and what will happen, will too. I think the key to maintaining sanity is in acceptance of the circumstances. It doesn't stop there. It's the start of a constant effort to get back to where you feel like you can conquer the world. This does NOT mean that you should just not try for anything. That's where most of the fun comes in, yeah?

I'll leave you with one final thing. Say you're planning a trip with someone. Or a group event. Or whatever. Have you ever found that... planning it is often more enjoyable, or at least as enjoyable, as the actual event? I guess that's what this is. YES, it is stressful, and YES, you're going to be tired. But even if the event turns out to be a total failure, you at least know you did your best to make this work out.

Speaking of planning for the future... the very near future, methinks it is time for sleep. AGH, go to this website to find out what time you should sleep and what time you should wake up. I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, it's just something that I thought people would find useful as stressed-out teenagers, young adults, whatever.

GOOD NIGHT! :)