Monday, November 15, 2010

Lost and Found

Sometimes in life, we cannot find what we need. We spend a while searching in one place, with no avail, unhappily dealing with the consequences of being there, before moving on to another place, to a similar effect. This routine is tiring, delusional, and, at the end of the day, fruitless. You cannot look for what you want. No, that's not true. You can look all you want, but the best things you find are the things you find, not up to purpose, but up to

or maybe fate.

This is how we find that five dollar bill we left in that old skirt. This is how we find that something we lost ten years ago. This is how we find our true love.

These are the pleasant surprises that make us happy dance around our room to the music inside of our heads.

On a related note, today I found the one spot in my ENTIRE ROOM that actually has good Wi-Fi. Happy dance time? Oh, yes.

Anyone else going to a midnight premiere of Harry Potter 7? Je suis! Anyone else going to be dead tired on Friday? Oui, moi aussi!

Saturday, November 13, 2010

The American High School

Someone told me some time ago that American high schools are lacking in comparison with others in other countries but that our universities are generally superior to others'. I wish I could cite this so it would be more than a 'he said, she said' statement, but I don't know where the information came from and don't even remember who told me it. But through my experience in the American high school, I believe that statement is absolutely true.

I've read quite a few musings of people questions why the American educational system is so lacking. What I think? The education part really isn't really lacking. Through my thirteen years in my school system, the schools have taught me to subtract and cite, read and research, create and question. I've loved school and, with a few very notable exceptions, I've loved my teachers. Upon reflection, most years, I grew and expanded my knowledge of the world.

This is one fact I can cite. Everywhere--in newspapers, news magazines, TV shows, news programs--people are questioning, "Why are American students failing where other countries' students are excelling?" Just search "Failing American Schools" on Google. Only one article on the first page stated that the failure of American schools is a myth. I'm a seventeen year old girl. I don't know what my generation will produce. I don't know what kind of people we'll create and what we'll do when we're adults and what kind of new technologies we'll make. What do I know then?

I know last year a classmate of mine (we were sixteen then), asked me what the baby boomers were.

Another classmate a month or two later asked another student what Al-Qaeda was.

A week or two ago, when Vote 2010 closed, my friends were sitting around looking at the results and what we thought about them. Nobody in this group was any older than eighteen. One boy asked the rest of us, "Why do you care about the government?"

This is why American students, not schools, are failing.

They are failing because parents don't care to tell their kids about baby boomers (or Social Security and our inability to depend on it) or Al-Qaeda (or its potential affect on their world and its inhabitants) or the importance of the government (and how they can effect change through internship even though they are not enfranchised).

I'm going to take myself as an example, and please excuse a bit of my vanity in the following words. My mother had the luxury of being a stay-at-home mom in the crucial time before I entered public school. In my house there was music and art and reading and writing - creativity in abundance. The playroom housed a TV, but that's not my most vivid memory of the playroom. With the inner cardboard roll of carpet, we made a totem pole, erected in the very center of the playroom. Around the Fourth of July, fireworks were created out of pom-pom thingys. The only memory I have of the television in that room is me, with a hairbrush, singing to LeAnn Rimes' concert on the TV behind me.

I was lucky. I could experience the love of education from my own home. I loved school. I loved learning. I loved my family (They are all connected). Others aren't so lucky, forced to spend their first five years learning from the boob tube. It gets worse, too. Once these deprived souls enter the school systems, they and their parents blame the teachers, blame the curriculum, blame the classmates, blame anything other than the origin of learning: home.

Yes, the parents who don't help with homework, don't foster learning and reading can certainly be a factor. But I feel that most of the one hundred students in my class had potential when they entered middle school. This is when the learning stopped.

High school and middle school center on the social factor. Pep assemblies, dances, gossip, oh my! Look at any movie about high school. Hannah Montana. Mean Girls. Never Been Kissed. Even the classics. Pretty In Pink. Sixteen Candles. Students fall in love, go to work, go to dances. They do go to school of course. And while in school, they talk so loud between one another you wonder if the teacher is deaf. This is not an exaggeration. High schools are not teaching. In the high school, we spend a great deal of time having fun to 'foster learning,' then teachers wonder why test scores are so low.

Not to say that test scores actually reflect the ability of a student. Me and my friend have created a game called the 'French Game' to practice our French vocabulary. It goes like this:

Me: la genou (points to knee)
Her: la main (holds up hand)
Me: la tete (points to head)
Her: le chemisier (points to shirt)

It goes on like that until one of us runs out of words and the other wins. My friend is very proficient in French. But she gets a D on every test because of test anxiety. She cannot do well in French because she FREAKS OUT on every test. It's not the teacher's fault. It's not her fault. It's the way it is.

As a final note (because this has become quite long), I would like to point some blame on teachers. I have had classes where I learned nothing. I have had classes where I taught every body, rather than the teacher teaching (now where's my friggin paycheck???). I have had classes where I was just filling a seat. I have had an entire year where I feel like I could have skipped that year and gone on to the next for all I learned.

College in the High School programs--like Running Start in Washington--really help students like me, who spent years learning and want to continue learning. I don't know how to fix faulty teachers or faulty parents and I don't foresee high schools taking the fun out of fundamentals. I'm a seventeen year old girl. I don't know how to fix it.

Maybe we can institute a community college-like atmosphere in high school. But would that really work with the student perception of high school?

Maybe we can heighten the expectations to get into universities? But would that really do anything other than lessen the possibility for high schools to get more than menial jobs?

I don't know what to do. I just know something's gotta change.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Haven't Posted in A Year.

Wow. One year, no post. Sad day. I'd just like to say that I completely forgot about this blog. Not that anyone reads it...

I decided to write again as of today and plan to add it to my toolbar so maybe I'll blog more often. I want to do more of an article kind of thing with my blog, rather than a "here's my day, let me regurgitate my teenage angst-y feelings to you" diary kind of thing.

But I must give you one little diary post.

Babysat today. It went pretty well, minus the poopy diaper incident and the missing of the mom incident. He didn't want to go to bed but some rocking in the rocking chair and humming of Rent songs and some cuddling and he went right to sleep. I have a way with the kids. And the Rent songs.

"How did we get here? How the hell? Pan left, close on the steeple of the church. How did I get here? How the hell? Christmas! Christmas Eve, last year. How could a night so frozen be so scalding hot? How could a morning so mild be so raw? How, our entire year strewn on the cutting room floor of memory when single frames of one magic night forever flicker in close-up on the 3-D IMAX of my mind? That's poetic! That's pathetic..."



I've also started the Running Start program - for those of you (I speak as if I have a fan following of any kind! Ha!) non-Washingtonians, Running Start is a program in which you can enroll in community college to get high school credit. Basically, it's twice the homework with the large possibility of your GPA dropping significantly, but I'm trying my best and working on swimming through the large piles of homework that seem to be forever accumulating. I like it, though. I like intellectual challenge.

And, clearly, I like physical challenge. I had a killer cross country season this year, PR'ing at 24:33 at one of the hardest courses of the year. I learned that I actually like cross country. Who knew?

Okay. I'm going to go do some homework. And buy some Tegan and Sara collab songs. Mostly the latter. :D

Night, all.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

I'm in a strange mood. One of those sad, bittersweet moods where you think about your life and what it entails and what you wish it would entail and what you're lucky. It started when I started talking to a friend, and that reminded me of another friend who got in a bit of a spot and is now facing jail time. (Don't comment me with questions or comments on that subject - for privacy of all involved, I will not say any more)

Basically now I'm thinking about how my life is good but sucks at the same time. It's good because I have such great friends and I like all my classes - excluding one major exception - and basically nothing is wrong. My classes are hard, but I like a challenge. My life requires much homework, but I don't dislike homework. Music has colored my life like I never thought possible (basically there are very few hours of my day not dotted with music; silence is so LOUD).

The 'sucks' part is hard to explain and has been enforced by several different occurrences in my life. Part of it is my lack of a boyfriend. I'm the kind of person who never really minds being alone - as much as I love people, there's nothing like sitting alone in your bedroom - but sometimes it gets tiresome. A part of me so wants someone to go do things with on Saturday night and someone to feel my heart ache for when we're apart and someone to kiss on the dance floor during Homecoming. Most of all, I want this person to be someone who I really WANT, not just someone there because. This is my biggest problem.

I'm at the moment where I'm so tired of my surroundings. I like my life, but it's too familiar. It's like listening to the same song too many times or running a flat, straight cross country course. I see what's ahead and I see what's behind and I know this turn and that without looking. Not that I don't mind these things. Singing is easy when you know the words. Air-guitaring is simple when you know the exact rhythm. Dancing is perfect when the beats are ingrained into your brain cells. And no hills or turns or roots or jumps makes for a perfect cross country course.

I'm happy.

I am.

It's just too easy.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Baby names...

Girl: Imogen, Emmy, Lucy Elaine, Lorelai Katherine
Boy: Chandler, Arson, Davey

Friday, August 7, 2009

This is my random blog. I have three things to talk about (although by the end of this blog, I'll probably have talked about five or six) and there is no connection between any of them. Ready...set...GO.

One. Anyone who lives in the Pacific Northwest, as I do, will remember that last week we had record highs. On my front porch, it reached 114, which might not seem hot to some people, but to the temperate climate of the northwest, it was freaking HOT. Well, now, I'm looking outside...and it's drizzling. Oh, you've gotta love Washington.

Two. I've started sewing. Poorly, and by hand because we don't have a sewing machine, but I have. I plan to post a pic of my creation when it's done. =]

Two and a half. I have discovered the secret of losing weight when you just want to lose 20 pounds or less. You need to count calories (lame, yes, but it works), and you need to stop drinking soda, juice, and sweetened tea. This is where half your calories come from, and it's so easy to JUST DRINK WATER. Just saying.

Three. Since I did get two reviews on my 'review this blog post and get a story excerpt,' I find it unfair to say that I will not post a story. I don't want to be that kind of bitch. So, if you want it, shoot an email to and I'll send you one back with the excerpt.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

So, the other day, I'm in Lowe's with my mom and we both need to...relieve ourselves. And into the bathroom we go. We do our business, then leave the stalls and are washing our hands when another woman walks in with a cell phone plastered to her ear. She enters a stall...and then keeps talking!!! I'm not saying she tastefully waited for a chance to close the conversation know. NO. She keeps talking, whilst peeing!!!!!!


Monday, July 27, 2009

If three people comment this post, I'll post up a portion of the story I'm writing. Any takers?

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

These are times when I wish I could run away; wish I had the gall and the courage. Times when I feel everyone around me is simply ignoring my sorrow, or perhaps I really am that great of an actress. In short, nothing truly is plaguing my soul except the lonesomeness I cannot escape. I feel confined within this home and within this body. I wish I were somewhere else, was someone else. I feel so weak, admitting to this fault of mine, but it's my true feelings and it seems ridiculous to mask these, especially to people who read my blog but otherwise know little of me - with the exception of my friend Cass. I feel like shit, that's all I can say. My life has been diminished to a room, although this is, of course, my own choice. I've spent my summer days watching Gilmore Girls, until I ran out of episodes that I had on DVD, then I turned to online episodes of InuYasha (I found a great free online anime provider). I feel pathetic. I feel lonely. It doesn't matter that I can text people all day if I so choose, it's the fact that that's all I do. Three times today I nearly got in my car and drive away, a crime only because I have yet to possess a license of my own. I just need to get out of this TOWN. I feel so trapped!!!! I'll go with anyone just to leave, even if they're just going to the grocery store or to Target or Home Depot. I - I just want to be with other people.

But I guess I'm so pathetic even my so-called 'best friend' turns a cold shoulder to me.

Monday, June 29, 2009

To my future One And Only,

I am sixteen years old, and that doesn't seem like a lot. But I think more than I speak, which says something because I speak more than most people would like. And trust me, at sixteen, I've thought long and hard about what I want my husband to look like, act like, and just generally be like. At sixteen, I have no clue if you'll be anything like my imagination, but I intend to detail it precisely right... now.

I don't know what you'll look like, but sadly, here lies potentially the most shallow piece of myself. Because I cannot imagine marrying anyone unattractive. Wait - before you think me superficial, please hear me out. "Attractive" is such a broad spectrum to me, because I think Pete Wentz is attractive, but I also think Matthew Perry is attractive (if you just said or thought "Who?" at Matthew Perry it is clear we cannot be together). I drool at Davey Havok and also at Corbin Bleu. "Sexy" holds no boundaries to me. Sexy is African and sexy is Caucasian and sexy is Latino and Native American and Asian and Middle Eastern. Sexy is red-haired and brunnette and black-haired and caramel-colored. Blonde is less sexy than the rest of these. Sexy is gorgeous eyes (I'm particularily partial to green eyes). Sexy is thin and muscular, but sexy is also a little chunky. I imagine a mix of all these things in you. I wonder how many qualities you'll hold?

As for your personality, you MUST be open-minded and silly and crazy and spontaneous and a little insane. Please kiss me when we're angry and please make our dates at strange places. Remember what I like, always, because I try to remember what you like. Treat me like a lady, but don't reat me like a delicate flower which cannot do man-things. Please don't text on dates - it's rude. Introduce me to your favorite bands, and love all kinds of music because music is the second-most holy thing on this planet. Speaking of holy things, I want us to share a religion that loves its God whole-heartedly. (And speaking of holey things, I like swiss cheese!) Travel with me, and I don't just mean across the country or to Europe or Asia or Africa or anywhere like that. I want to go there, too, but sometimes I just want to walk. Driving doesn't let you stop and look and see. Let's walk around Seattle, walk around Portland, walk around Forks or Bellingham or Tillamook.

I hope you don't like Halo or World of Warcraft, but if you do,'re a guy. I hope you're rough, but sweet and sarcastic, but sincere and sensitive. Be a contradiction. I hope you love music like you love breathing and I hope you love Jesus twice as much as you love me. I hope you read. I hope you love to obtain new knowledge and are sad when college ends because it's the end of structured learning and you love that like me. I hope you're tidy and cool-headed and tall and muscular, to compensate for all I am not. I hope when you read this, I am still a virgin and so are you. I hope you pressure me about all the right things and leave all else alone. I hope you'll watch chick flicks with me and love them. I hope you cry at "My Sister's Keeper" and "The Notebook" and "My Best Friend's Wedding" and "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas." When we watch "Dirty Dancing," I hope you hold me while I cry (I also hope you see that I'm not crying because it's really sad, but because I see you and I see Johnny and I worry that could happen to us). I hope you dance in the rain and I hope you sing well. I hope you have passion and love in your heart. I hope you like the rain. I hope we grow old together.

Now I'm sad... =[

I love you, my Future.

Friday, June 26, 2009

To Maximum Capacity...

Yeah, so stupid me, I can't figure out how the hell to send you a message. So I'm going to reply here and hope to hell you check...? Anyways. I'll be updating both semi-frequently. Hopefully, once or twice a week. The other will be mostly one-sentence blog posts.

I'd also like to take this moment to beg any reader of this to PLEASE tell your friends. I currently have two lovely, faithful readers, and I thank and love them dearly. But I'd like more. Cuz I'm gready like that. And I can't spell... (greedy not gready...)

Friday, May 8, 2009

Going to a movie with my brother tonight. We're going to see X-Men Origins. Hopefully I won't need to have remember what happened in the other three (three...yes?) movies, because I totally forgetted. My favorite character was always Rogue. Don't know why. But I always wanted to be her. Just like in Rocket Power I wanted to be Reggie. I wanted to be a tough girl. But alas, I was - and am - a wimp.

Which brings me to my first question for the comments: Who of X-Men is the most rockingest?

For the second time in the history of this blog, someone I do not know has visited and left a comment! A very nice comment, too. =] I want to thank you, Francois. And you should know that I did check out your blog, too, and it was way rad. Your posts are funny. =] I loved the Mac v. Microsoft one. *coughMacsarebettercoughcough* I really do hope you come back.

Changed the background, did you notice? Tried doing that stupid HTML code thing but apparently The Nerd is too inept to do that. I seriously spent two hours trying to figure it out. My brother went for a walk, came back and said, "You're still on that thing?!" I scowled. I actually didn't know there was a way to change the backgrounds from the usual templates. Heh. Smart one, eh?

I've been a very infrequent poster lately, but I am willing to change. In fact, I have a business proposition for you: if you invite ONE FRIEND to view my blog, I will blog once a day for a year!

New question: WILL YOU DO THIS FOR ME????

Finally, I firmly believe Twitter is a waste of time. Do you tweet?

In case you need actual instructions: please answer the bold in the comments. Thank you.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

So naive....

And I thought Hitler was the only one who forced people of a certain race into concentration camps.

Roosevelt did it too. Same time, marginally better conditions.

So sad.. =[

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

How I Know There Is a God

I know God exists when I am going on a vacation for the weekend and see that my online class has few expectations for once in my life.

I know God exists when my friend wants to be in a play where rehearsals are Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday...and she works Wednesday and Friday.

I know God exists when my shy friend suddenly is bold enough to say, "Decide."

I know God exists when my arch enemy sees me crying and asks what's wrong.

I know God exists when I see a beautiful day like today.

My Favorite Names

Favorite Guy Names:

Favorite Girl Names: