Anachronistic Dissension

GAH

2008-06-08T09:49:00.003-05:00

I haven't written in this in forever...

For those who don't know, I was in Europe for 16 days earlier.

I went to my Aunt's house in Zurich, Switzerland. From there we visited Munich, Paris, Venice, and Luzern. All of which were awesome (Paris wasn't as much, but the Louvre made up for it). My favorite, however, was Zurich.
Such an awesome place...

It was a city, yet, in the middle of it all you could hear birds chirping. I don't know why but that just stuck out to me as awesome...

My Aunt's apartment had a view of Lake Zurich and the Swiss Alps... all the mountains were amazing...

Anyways I was just checking in so I wouldn't have not written for years and years in this thing...

I am going to the Young Writer's Project soon so, when I do, I would love to post my stories on this so they can be judged by the sometimes one person who reads this! Hooray!

Hope you are enjoying your summer so far!

Problems

2008-05-15T23:37:00.002-05:00

I have completely re-done my laptop so everything is fresh.

In doing this I lost all of my bookmarks.

In losing those I somehow would always forget I have a blog.

It's been a while, huh?

How've you been? Good? Bad? Well... there's always tomorrow.

I've been stressed about school, finals, and the end of my Sophomore year (where the hell it went I'll never know...)

Going to Europe this summer! Excited/nervous. Pretty awesome.

Question: Under my blog title: "ANACHRONISTIC DISSENSION", is the text super-duper tiny like it is on mine? I don't know how that happened...

Just wondering if my browser settings are funky since I have tinkered with everything, lost it, and am now trying to re-do it all... a lot of work...

Leave a comment or I won't appreciate you! :)

Filler

2008-05-08T20:34:00.002-05:00

The following text is merely a filler to show that I haven't died or forgotten about my faithful reader(s).

Comment and tell me what your favorite color is or something, that sounds like fun...

On The Edge

2008-05-05T00:49:00.002-05:00

I am on the brink of a panic attack and it is driving me insane.

I haven't had a panic attack since I was thirteen, or somewhere near then...

The reason? I am trying to write an essay for tomorrow (ahem, make that today) and I am finding it incredibly difficult to stay focused when my computer's virus has redeveloped. (I don't know how else to describe it, but I know it never left...)

The computer is going very slow, most likely because of the scanners I have running, and it is way too late for me to be able to focus... all I want to do is sleep.

My heart feels like it is beating really rapidly when it isn't...

In any case this is more of a panic post to try and get my mind back on writing or something, I don't know, maybe I just need to post something even though nobody reads this...

Well, back to writing my essay!

I will be so happy when I can go to sleep tonight... though maybe not, knowing how crappy tomorrow will start out being...

Enslaved Technology (and The Search continues...)

2008-05-03T12:41:00.008-05:00

I haven't blogged in a while.

But I have a good reason, so... it's okay. (by the way, my computer doesn't recognize "okay" as an English word... that's pathetic. OK)

My laptop has been taken away by my mother because I have been getting home a few minutes late every day from school, leaving my sister alone after she is dropped off from her school.

I understand the problem but... she would seriously be fine for an entire day home alone, she already feeds herself anyway...

But, yes, I am on the home computer (and the keyboard is really loud and annoying [especially the space bar]) so don't expect a blog until maybe Tuesday, probably later.

Right now I am not really upset that my laptop is taken away, but more peeved at how this morning my mom made me put in my password so that she could use it.

First of all, she didn't buy it for me (excuse me, cat, please get away from the screen I can't see what I am typing), my aunt bought it, so technically she should only use it with my permission (again, cat...) but no, she seems to think that anything that is mine is also hers...

I can't wait until I get it back.

Unfortunately, after I put my password in it took about ten minutes to log in, or at least ten minutes then my mom gave up and probably just put it by her bed for it to die from lack of charge...

I can't trust anyone in my family with valuable electronics... common sense just escapes them or something.

I think the reason it took forever to try and log on is because when my mother demanded it I was downloading an anti-spyware program and running a virus scan.

For her, it took to long for me to try and stop everything and shut it down so I had to just hold the power button.

Who knows, mt whole laptop is probably ----ed.

Fun...

and the best part is I won't be able to find out until Tuesday! Or maybe sooner if my mom lets me use my laptop to type this rough draft of an English paper I have to write... This stupid computer doesn't even have Microsoft Word...

Anyways... I feel like talking about my most recent activities now.

I made an incredibly nerd-tastic chart of all the major colleges in Kansas and Missouri and rated them all according to cost, academics, location, etc.

Predictably, my beloved Washington University in Saint Louis was placed 5th out of the fourteen I rated due solely on the fact that it is the most expensive in every area (but when you look at the others you can kind of understand why...)

This is good, however, because I am trying to shift my focus from WUStL to a broader range of choices, because I know that I won't make it into WUStL anyways... Seriously... 1/1,000,000 chance...

Bay tells me a school's Valedictorian didn't make it in... so what chance do I have? Bah...

Anyways, after rating everything in these two states I found the the College of the Ozarks was the best, given my limited criteria.

One of the criteria, however, is Religious Affiliation.

I really don't want to go to a religious school (especially one where I would be required to take a religious class) and the College of the Ozarks considers students for enrollment based on their faith and loyalty to the religion, so that is out.

After filtering the four I had that would not accept you if you didn't believe in their religion I found a tie for first place, with one looking much better than the other.

Kansas State University and Drury University were the two tied for first place and, because I don't want to be just another Kansan going to a Kansas university I am now looking at Drury University as one of my main focuses.

Also, after looking at all of the crap colleges have sent me over the past months, I am looking into Knox College... though the fact that it is only a college bothers me, yes... I'm weird like that.

Also Knox is fairly expensive for a Liberal Arts college, I think...

I don't know, but thanks for reading my college complaints!

Unless you aren't reading... but then you wouldn't be reading that thanks... so... doesn't matter...

Bye!

Cutting

2008-04-27T14:28:00.005-05:00

Lately I have started something that I never thought I would do again for a long time...

It's something I have criticized other people for doing, and is something I might get a lot of shit for tomorrow when all of my friends notice it...

I guess, considering how long it has been since I did it last time, this is sort of overdue, especially with all of the stress I've been dealing with.

I started off being kind of self-conscious about how it looks now, and I've experimented with covering it up, but everything that works looks way too obvious, thus making it look worse.

So I don't really know what to do beyond just letting people notice it if they may...

I think, however, that some strange part of my brain is actually enjoying how it looks... it really gives me a whole different personality...

Those of you that will eventually notice, please don't comment, it'll make me feel better if I think that nobody cares...

I have figured out how to make it look better, though! After a shower I just dry it off and spray this stuff on it and it looks better.

If you have any feelings regarding this please comment below.

P.S. I really hope I had you going there for a while... if I didn't, I apologize.

(I got a haircut)

I Hate American Idol

2008-04-23T20:25:00.003-05:00

I've noticed my blogs are getting less and less interesting...

Unfortunately I can't think of anything to spice it up... so, ya know...

deal with it.

I've realized that I could get a whole lot more done if I didn't have to rely on my parents.

What caused me to realize this is when I asked my mother if she could pay for membership in the National Society of High School Scholars (say that five times fast).

I realize now it was a bad idea since American Idol was on and her mind was off, but that doesn't really deserve the frustrated response I got.

The deadline is April 30th, and I felt it looming nearer and nearer, so I wanted to just do it instead of wait and miss out on the opportunity, not being accepted because we couldn't make a simple deadline. I don't know if they would care that much about the deadline but I'd rather not find out.

Her response was a rant on how when I want to do something I just have to have it done right then. Apparently this means that I don't take her time seriously. I don't take her American Idol time seriously.

I hate American Idol...

The sad thing is, since she said she would do it later, I can never ask her to do it again with her being frustrated at me. So, in order for this to be done I will either have to piss her off at the right time or I will have to wait for her to say she will do it, which, according to my experience, will never happen.

You have no idea how frustrating this is.

I want something done, not just any something, but something that could help give me a better future, and she can't be bothered to get her purse and sign a check.

It may sound like I am spoiled, but it has nothing to do with her not wanting to pay the money, it is just not wanting to do anything at the moment. Besides, it is only $45, and gives me the opportunity to receive thousands of dollars in scholarships and a better chance of getting into the college I want to go to.

The possibility of me not getting into the college I want because my mom just didn't feel like it kills me. I don't know, maybe I'm just being dramatic, but I feel like I have a right to be.

I can't help but wonder if I am the only one with parents like this, as all I ever hear about at school are parents that push them, if anything a little too hard, to succeed in life.

I don't doubt that I can get this membership check in, if nothing else I can talk to somebody else in my family to get it done. Knowing that I had to turn to somebody else for something like this might hurt my mom's feelings, but, really, maybe she does need to just wake up and realize that it would only take a minute to write a check, as opposed to yelling at your son for asking for your help.

I don't know, maybe I just expect too much of people.

To Be On Time Is To Be Late

2008-04-22T16:00:00.008-05:00

I've recently found out my Orchestra teacher is not returning to my school next year...

For many students the news that their teacher is leaving next year would cause semi-indifferent shrugs or, for some, cheering.

This, however, is not the case with me, nor with my teacher.

This teacher has taught me in Orchestra classes in 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and now 10th grade, and he is the only reason I stuck through that one awful year in 6th grade where I was one of only two members (yes... two).

Basically, I go to Orchestra because he teaches it; I enjoy it because he teaches it.

Sure, the ability to help in making great sounds and songs is rewarding, but if it wasn't for him in my earlier Orchestra years I wouldn't be playing today, and he has consistently been one of my favorite teachers throughout the latter of my elementary school years and through junior high school.

A teacher who has made an impact on me such as this is hard to simply shrug off.

I had to keep myself from tearing up during the after-school meeting when he told us just an hour ago.

The strange thing is, however, with my other teachers that I enjoyed I got to know them a little better (I even have my English teacher from Freshman year's phone number), but with him I never really felt a favoring towards me.

Maybe it is just the setting, as sitting and playing an instrument all hour doesn't allow for much chatting time. Maybe he likes to be fair and not show favoritism, maybe it is just because I am too quiet, and am never the one to bring up a joke in class so we can all laugh about it.

The real reason, though, is because I have never really done anything to impress him.

I have never practiced the amount I should have, have never performed very well, and have never really stood out as a great student to him.

Yet, even if he didn't think I was a good Orchestra member, I always thought he was a great teacher.

When we needed to be serious and focused he would make sure we were, and always put in the same amount of energy conducting as he wanted us to put in performing.

He was friendly but not too loose with us, and told funny stories often.

Now, as I realize that I have never amounted to much in his class in terms of performance, I feel deep regret for all those minutes I spent just wasting time when I could have been practicing.

I can barely imagine the feeling I'd have if I had given Orchestra my all throughout and was one of the best performers in my class, being one of the students he could be proud of.

Unfortunately there isn't much time to prove I want to be a great student in his eyes, as the end of the year is rapidly approaching, only about a month left.

This news also raised the issue of if I really wanted to be in Orchestra next year, if I would enjoy it with a different teacher...

After some thought on the way home from school I came up with the same answer I always have when it comes to planning for my future: "You'll regret it if you don't."

So I plan on continuing my Orchestral education through high school, no matter what.

I really want to do something to give to him before he leaves for good... but I don't really know what. Hopefully I will think of something, I don't want to leave him with only a simple "goodbye"...

P.S. The title of the blog refers to something he would tell us often about arriving at concerts and rehearsals, "To be on time is to be late." Beyond the literal meaning I have found that the little extra effort that you give earlier makes it easier in the long run, and that we really should plan for our futures sooner...

Friendly Acquaintances

2008-04-21T19:39:00.006-05:00

I have never considered myself a very popular person (perhaps it has something to do with me cussing out people who have money), though at the moment I have perhaps more friends than ever...

As I think about it, however, a lot of my friends are closer to acquaintances... or in some weird area between... I don't know.

The fact is, I have very few friends who I can be truly honest with, and only one where I am truly honest with (you may or may not know who you are...).

I have been pushing for more friends a lot recently, or perhaps just pushing to be better friends with (certain) people.

However, so far it hasn't worked. Maybe we just don't have enough in common... maybe we just aren't in enough classes together. I don't really know, but I prefer those reasons over the others I could think of.

Now, on the subject of anti-sociality, I will stop talking.

Infuriatingly Crippled

2008-04-20T11:53:00.034-05:00

My laptop has some kind of virus.

Because of this, I am having many murderous thoughts.

I'm not exactly a novice at computer security, but I am far from an expert, and know only what years of computer experience, common sense, and information the males of my generation seem to automatically know from birth.

I have run approximately 7 virus, malware, adware, spyware, trojan, et cetera scanners and cleaners and have found two things, one which could be removed, the other which couldn't because my Norton Scanner is only a scanner and can't remove anything (how useful!). When I set other scanners on the same file they come up empty handed (my beloved Avast has been incapacitated by the virus, and won't do a system scan...)

I can't tell you how infuriated I am with this, and know that as soon as this is all over I will have developed a deep paranoia for my computer's security (most likely a good thing).

I have talked with the people at GeekSquad (I would link their website but that would cost about an hour worth of loading [yes, literally]) and the estimated cost of bringing my laptop into Best Buy (link later) and getting it fixed is $199.

For anyone that can comfortably say "no problem" to that, you're spoiled pieces of ---- (no, really).

My mother has suggested talking to her Tech people at work to get them to try to and fix it, though, at the pace my mother works to get things done for me, that will never happen.

Eventually I will have to nag my mother to do it until she gets pissed off at me and, a month later, asks one of her Tech guys so they can say "sure" and, two months later, end up not being able to fix anything.

My cousin is over and our dog is licking his hands, and you can tell I am irritated because I want to shoot both of them for making that disgustingly annoying sound even after I asked him to stop her.

"I'm trying, she won't stop."

Bull.

Perhaps the worst part of this, however, is the fact that there is no way any friend of mine an sympathize.

"it's just a virus, it's just a computer, it's no big deal."

Yes, it is a big ----ing deal, this isn't my computer, this is my security, something I own, and there is something wrong with it, caused by another person, and so far there is nothing I can do to help. If you can't relate to that then we obviously are two very different people.

It infuriates me how helpless I am while this is happening, it infuriates me that no one gives a ----, because, really, no one can give a ----, it's my computer, nobody else can feel responsible, not like I can, at least, and it infuriates me that this was all probably caused by some kid in his ----ing basement messing with a computer program, deciding to release a virus into the internet for no apparent reason.

Though I would love to just sit here and cuss and scream, I am closing the jar and leaving this post as is. And though it killed me to censor everything I could find, I'm not sure if my Aunt still reads this.

If you are reading this, I only really can cuss online. It's just easier... though usually there isn't any anger behind it.

If anyone has any suggestions as to what to do, please keep it to yourself unless you think you understand fully how to remove these things. I don't need anyone else telling me to "delete the virus" (sorry, you know who you are, that just does absolutely nothing to help me. I'll blame it on your inexperience. No offense.)

Contemplating doing a System Recovery, but I need to know more about it to be confident doing it...

Wish me luck...

Just Do It

2008-04-13T17:53:00.006-05:00

It sickens me when I imagine how much time I waste, especially on the weekends...

You know the number one tip given to all aspiring writers?

Write.

The way they say it makes it sound like a requirement to even aspire to be one. Perhaps it is...

In any case, the point is: I haven't been.

I haven't written anything, anything, not school related for a month, and that is the low estimate...

It feels as if I, at one point, found myself in the middle of writer's block and have gotten used to not writing.

The scary thing is, I haven't felt the intense urge to write recently, my focus has been on maintaining and raising my grades...

Because of this, my mind is questioning whether I really do want to be a writer, not only that, but if I could be one anyways.

It seems my friends who love to write are constantly writing, why aren't I?

When I get home I lay on my bed to try and ease my neck, which always hurts from my astronomical backpack.

After my parents get home, I do some activity that requires very little thought: television, chatting online, surfing Facebook, listening to music...

I do this until it is almost time for bed, at which time I begin my homework.

After my homework, I go to bed.

This pitiful routine has been embedded so deep into my skull that I find it hard just to write in this blog, something which takes very little creative thought and is only used to express some things that I can't express otherwise.

I've lost my appreciation for good literature thanks to my English teacher, as otherwise great novels have been reduced to assignments, something I have to do, not something I would enjoy...

So, after this blog post is published, and wash up a little bit (I feel gross), I am going to write.

Something...

Anything...

Wish me luck, I feel like I am going to need it...

The Fray That Frames My Nerves

2008-04-09T23:53:00.011-05:00

Recently this week has been swimming frantically down the drain, which, as always, seems clean as a whistle, with nothing to slow the descent.

For some reason the idea of security had begun to sneak in on my mind, and I found myself getting a chance to seriously consider the future; but, behind me back my hard work had begun crumbling in places.

Grades which I thought were rock-solid are suddenly dangling from an eyelash, their grip slipping more and more each day I let my eyes close and dream.

It's frustrating to realize that no longer will a teacher approach you inquiring about that assignment that was not turned in after your one day being sick in the entire year; and it is terrifying to see how much a tiny, unacknowledged slip lets the dominoes crash.

For all I know my P.E. grade is plummeting, as Ms. Lilley (formerly named "Teacher One"; confidentiality escapes me at the moment...) has informed us that we will no longer be warned to stop not following directions and will simply be given a zero for the day.

Technically I have been following directions, but, seeing as I am one of the tiny amount of kids that participates with extreme reluctance in most any game, she seems to enjoy telling me to act like my life revolves around a ball that is being chucked at mats.

However, seeing as I have not touched the ball, only ran back and forth across the gym all hour watching it, I wouldn't be surprised if she was tempted to mark a few dozen zeros to cover the next couple weeks she assumes I won't live for in her class (not that her assumptions would be incorrect, of course).

The worst thing is, I do not care what she thinks about me at all, yet, I have to, because she controls a part of my GPA...

I can't care what she thinks... she's a Gym Teacher, how important could she be?

Most likely the bitter result of a crushed dream of a sports career due to a lack of talent, she slid through a few teaching classes to be qualified to instruct the wondrous class that is Physical Education, vowing to be the cool, nice, fun gym teacher.

In the end, however, she barks a desperation for enthusiasm and motivation, which drains me of any that I have left... call it stubborn obstinacy, whatever you want...

Besides the school issues, my computer currently has some sort of virus that my trusty Avast! Antivirus can't seem to find. I searched for viruses like it on the internet by the action it does, every few minutes trying to open Internet Explorer to a seemingly random web page (usually about snowboarding[??]) and found hundreds of results being Trojans... so yeah... great.

Currently I have downloaded a trial of TrojanHunter, which, supposedly, works very well; though the lack of basic graphics worries me (maybe I am just too concerned with how it looks but it seems to me a more trusted virus-scanner has more thought put into things like that so it is less likely a fake...)

I think the virus is the thing that is wearing me down the most, perhaps that and being borderline sick the past week, as watching my computer do things I have not told it to do makes me feel sick inside, and I get easily paranoid.

I have a feeling that I received this virus from an e-mail, as I've been receiving more and more spam recently (enlargement, anyone?). I should be more discreet with my e-mail address, perhaps if nobody knew it I wouldn't receive any... yeah... that'd work...

In any case I really need to get to bed so I can at least try and be happy tomorrow... I am really stressed...

and I thought I'd forgotten what stress like this feels like...

Ha.

You're to Blame

2008-04-06T21:32:00.007-05:00

About two days after this grand scheme I mentioned in my last post, For Better or Worse, and, incidentally, the day "Teacher One" returned to school, I received the news that Bay would not, in fact, be able to meet me and do homework, studying, or anything.

I found the reason to be because of one simple thing, I am male.

I can understand Bay's mother being a bit wary of allowing her to go to the library with a boy, most particularly a boy she has never met, but a larger part of me sees it as an unfortunate injustice, and I can't help but wonder if she is really not trusting me, or the image of me as a boy, or her, as her own daughter.

The fact is any distrust in me, and any restrictions to how we interact, is the result of a lack of trust in her own daughter.

One might argue that her daughter might not be willing to do all of these things that supposedly could happen, but that doesn't matter.

The fact that she knows me, wants to go to this place with me for whatever reason, in this case a strictly social and educational reason, and trusts me could be seen, by her mother, as a fault in her character.

If she went somewhere with a friend and something bad happened, it is essentially her fault for going, for trusting these people, and for persuading/disobeying/obeying her parents by going.

The reason that she can't go, at least not this year, is because of a lack of trust in Bay, which, for a person like her, who I think could honestly be trusted for just about anything, is really sad.

This theory about whose fault everything is really gets you down, though... as everything that happens to you, whether good or bad, is your own fault. That's just the way it is.

Want to argue my point?

I'd love to. Anything to tell me I am not speaking to a blank wall right now...

Plus, I love a good intelligent argument... who doesn't?

(P.S. Bay, if you're reading this, I am not blaming you for not being able to do it, somehow I just got on the subject. No, I am not mad at your mother. Goodbye.)

For Better or Worse

2008-03-31T23:55:00.020-05:00

Just recently my friend, let's call her Bay, and I have been attempting to make a lot of plans on our futures.

The ultimate spur of this sudden burst of motivation?

Our gym teacher has been absent.

How, you may ask, could the absence of you physical education instructor cause these plans for two people to do homework together and study for the ACT's?

The explanation is quite simple, actually, and is one of my shortest webs of connected occurrences yet.

This may seem random and disconnected but, it will make sense in the end.

Our PE teacher, a decent woman, let's call her Teacher One, has slightly different views on how our class should be taught than our hour's other teacher, who teaches at the same time in the same gym. The other PE teacher, Teacher Two, has a slightly more laid back way of teaching physical education, and believes that if we walk the entire hour we are getting more exercise than we would while pretending to play some sport with some of our overly-competitive peers.

Teacher One does not share this philosophy; she believes that every student should participate in the sport assigned to their utmost potential.

This passed week, however, Teacher One has been absent, thus leaving Teacher Two and a substitute to assign us our duties for the hour.

Our substitute begins by telling us to do six lengths, an easy-enough task, and then to do 45 crunches and 15 push-ups.

After we finish our exercises we might do planks for anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute.

Upon their completion Teacher Two will give her instructions to us on what to participate in, recently giving us a choice between Basketball, Dodge Ball, and walking laps for the entire hour.

This is a rare and momentous occasion, and is treated as such. With exclamations of joy and perhaps a high five here or there.

Teacher One would never allow a member of her class to merely walk laps throughout the entire hour, though it is sometimes and option for Teacher Two's class (this, among other things, has caused some issues between the classes, hence a period where our class did not participate in anything with the other class, as Teacher One was tired of barking at Teacher Two's class).

Through this long spiel you might have forgotten where we started, so, to remind you, this is explaining why me and a friend have decided to make plans for our future. Don't worry, it will all be clearer soon.

During these hour-long walks around the gym, usually being hit with some sort of ball along the way, whether it be of the Basket breed or of the Dodging, Bay and I would discuss a million different things that would come up from the deepest reaches of our minds. Some of it intellectual, some of it... not so much so.

In any case we began talking about what colleges we wanted to go to.

See? I told you this would all make sense in the end.

We spoke about how our state universities held nothing special for us in our minds (how special could they be? They're right there, and everyone seems to automatically choose between the two...) and our different views on the East coast.

I have no urge, no desire, really, to go to a college on the East coast. All of these Ivy League Schools are great, and deserve the attention they receive, but they don't draw me so much that I would move across half the country to go to them unless I was already accepted and was given a full-ride. (I shudder at the thought of my possible hypocrisy right now, as I can imagine being accepted into some great East coast school and being extremely excited... the odds are slim but they're there...)

Believe it or not I enjoy living where I do, and feel that Olathe is the perfect combination of city and small-town feel, for me, anyways... and wouldn't prefer to move far from where I am now.

Perhaps that is just my worries on living alone and in college speaking for me, but in any case it is true.

Bay, however, enjoys the thought of moving away from this sea of conservatives and onto the Eastern coasts, in a beautiful school that is highly regarded by everyone.

I think I have found a great compromise, though whenever I look at the average GPA's, ACT scores, SAT scores, and, especially, the tuition, I hear that growing voice in my head scream to not get my hopes up, and that I will never make it.

Washington University in Saint Louis.

TheU called it the Harvard of the Midwest.

The grades? Amazing.

The reputation? Incredible.

The standards? Insurmountable.

The tuition? Way out of my league.

Unless I qualify for a whole bunch of scholarships and grants and financial aid this college is completely out of my reach. The standards, however, are just close enough for me to become suddenly motivated to do better in school and aim for the high ACT scores, scholarships, and awards.

The mere tease that this college could be attainable has left me wanting to plan, and has given Bay a good enough reason to stay in the Midwest for college, to try and attain WUSTL.

This college could give me the education I want, the challenge I need, the setting I like, and the pride that I crave. All I have to do is work for it.

I might fail, but if I do I would much rather be able to say I worked my hardest to try for it; and, besides, working hard in high school would help me gain access to more than one college... any way you slice it this is a good idea, and I feel invigorated enough to want to follow it through to the end, for better or worse.

Absence

2008-03-29T16:58:00.004-05:00

I haven't posted in too many days...

For those of you that read these, hopefully you can wait a little while longer, for at the moment, I am not in the mood to write at the moment.

Until next time, then...

Common Beauty

2008-03-24T17:45:00.009-05:00

Earlier this afternoon I asked my friend what, to her, was the most beautiful household object.

A strange question, to some, but I thought the answer would hold many great discoveries in a person after I found myself admiring some common objects myself.

What better way to investigate somebody's priorities? The simple symbol of any object strikes up connotations, all different and powerful in their own way.

Her answer? A pen.

I thought about her answer just as I would think about my own and tried to figure out what it said about her. So I thought of all the things a pen can represent.

A pen is creation, expression, without regret, no looking back. A pen is an instrument, grace, gliding softly over paper. A pen leaves a mark, making a lasting impression on people. A pen is a signature, yourself, your self-proclaimed identity, something unique that can only be attempted to copy.

I could probably come up with more but those are good for now...

So, then, how does this show her character?

I can only really guess and see if she responds that I am right, but from her answer I'd guess that she values a strong sense of self and wants others to see her qualities as she does. She tries not to focus on the past, but keeps her focus on how well she's doing in the present, and always worries how others see her. She tries to be unique but honest, and doesn't give off any image that isn't too close to her true personality.

These are pretty general statements, of course, as many people could fall into this category, but it is interesting, nonetheless, to think about these things.

I figured my own object out before I asked anybody else and, oddly enough, when I asked my friend's sister she said the same object. A clock.

For me, at least, the clock is the constant of everybody's lives. It holds memories and promises of the future. It tells you how long you have lived and gives you the reminder that, at some point, you will live no longer. It has many expressions, it causes joy, sadness, anxiety, anger, every emotion that a human can feel can be caused by a simple item. A clock.

As far as personality goes I can only speak for myself, having never met my friend's sister.

But for interpretation I see it as somebody who dwells on the past, whether they want to or not, and sees everything as a passing of time, towards something greater, or at least an end.

I find the more I think about my preferences the more I find out about myself, or the more I connect objects with their emotional connotations and meanings.

-----

This blog might have been a bit too deep as opposed to intellectual for some, but if you enjoyed it I thank you.

Maybe think about the most beautiful common object for you, don't be swayed into a clock or a pen by their meanings unless you truly think that these objects are the most meaningful to you, and try to pick the object and find the meaning as opposed to the meaning to find the object... because if you try the latter you may just end up with how you want to be.

Please comment, posting your answers, and maybe we can work out any meaning you haven't thought of?

I am very tired now, though I really shouldn't be, as I slept for some four hours after school (unintentionally) so I am going to sleep for school tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!
The 5th of 4

I'll Procrastinate Later...

2008-03-22T23:22:00.009-05:00

It always seems like my time could be spent doing better things.

Yet somehow all of my homework is completed before it is due.

At this very moment I should be writing a paper for my Advanced Placement English class on a book I barely read, finding the constant theme of racism in our district's reading rather tiresome.

The paper is due Monday, and tomorrow I may be busy celebrating Easter at my grandmother's house to work on a paper.

So why am I not writing?

To put it simply, no matter how bad it sounds, I don't feel like it. In fact, I, apparently, would rather be talking about why I am not working on the paper.

This has been kind of a bad day, most likely influenced by the looming reminder that Monday is the end of Spring Break, and the work must continue.

Soon it will be April, the month everyone, even the teachers, knows is the hardest, as there are no breaks, no holidays, no long weekends, nothing.

As I think about this impending doom and my own procrastination, I wonder if it really matters that much.

When I think about the disadvantages of procrastinating all I can come up with is a little added anxiety to get that done before it absolutely must be finished.

But is the anxiety really a disadvantage?

When one works on and finishes something early it is purely for the result of not having to worry about it later, to be done with it.

The best motivator, however, is necessity. So work that is close to being due has the most motivation for it to be done, while work that has a week to be due has little motivation to be finished, and with little motivation, for me, at least, the worst work is produced.

When there is the voice saying: "This must be finished tonight." I can actually buckle down and work; but, when the voice is saying: "This can wait." I find myself spacing off and moving onto other activities, knowing that the assignment can wait, and if it can, it will.

In my mind, this also applies to studying.

I can tell you honestly that I believe the last time I have studied for anything was in fourth grade, for a spelling test. I knew I could do it easily, but my mother decided to force me.

Despite this lack of studying I have a GPA of 3.66 repeating (which is my lowest to date due to a bad dip in Junior High).

I know I can't arrogantly rely on my ability to remember much of what is taught to me for long, especially with the image of college classes that is portrayed through movies and television.

Perhaps the reason I can remember most of what is said is because I actually pay attention, while other students study feverishly and come up short, wondering why as they nap in class.

There are some, however, that would do perfectly fine without studying, yet find it necessary to cram for weeks, aiming for perfection.

I'd like to know where they get their motivation...

Sure, the concept of being accepted to a nice college motivates me to make sure I do the whole math assignment and never forget to do an English assignment, but it doesn't reach so far as to motivate me to study 24/7 and work and do more than what is asked. Perhaps that is just my inability to work with strict parameters very well, causing me, once I finish something, to eagerly throw it into the pile of the "completed" and move on, never caring to see that paper again.

People try and tell me that, because of this, anything I do will only be mediocre.

I tell them they should think before they speak.

Motivation to do amazingly with something some teacher tells me to do is very different from the motivation to do something I want to do, something that will make me feel accomplished.

Instead of working on something a group of stuffy politicians feel I should know everybody's time might be better spent working on what they want to do when it comes to the high school years.

Instead of working in English class to dissect every single word scientifically and revel in the wonders of the prescribed right and wrong in the fluid reading of poetry, a teaching strategy building one dimensional, imprisoned thinkers everywhere, I could spend seven hours a day writing stories and poetry, learning what is effective in my writing and what isn't, learning great techniques and expanding my open mind wider and wider until anything and everything one inconceivable is, in fact, conceivable and reasonably so.

The schools of our nation are not building diverse people, but manufactured robots, each with varying amounts of the same information, leaving everything to be discovered for the later years when the time could be taken advantage of and each student turned loose on the subject of their choice to learn and discover and diversify.

The days of our nation's youth are passed, survived, endured; not seized.

And thus, with this spiral of forced, conformed learning, how can anybody be inspired? How can anyone find the motivation to succeed? To end up the best manufactured, conforming robot from the factories that are our schools.

You Can't Judge a Book by its Cover

2008-03-20T01:10:00.011-05:00

This wonderful little cliched idiom, meant to keep people from judging others, shall be taken from the meaning intended for it and used extremely literally in the following blog; not for the squeamish.

Approximately two months ago I read a short blurb on Yahoo!'s featured news about a book written by an Eric G. Wilson, this book was titled Against Happiness: In Praise of Melancholy. This book, by its description, appealed to me in that I was already realizing a part of me enjoyed being sad more than being happy. (If that doesn't make sense to you: disregard it. If it does: awesome.) The description stated how melancholy is, despite the way society looks upon it, an essential part of life and without it, there could be no happiness. This is the same as saying there can never be life without evil for then there could be no good, no purity. Without something to compare and contrast to it, nothing can exist.

As I read more of this description I connected more and more with what Wilson was saying, and decided to send it to a collection of my family and friends to try and show them what I had been trying to tell them for the past number of months, that it isn't terrible to be sad sometimes.

This was a bad idea, I admit it.

I know this because after sending it I received replies from friends asking if I was okay, even though I specifically said in the message, somewhat anticipating this response, "No, guys, I am not depressed."

The worst part, however, was that my grandmother began sending me links to books about happiness.

I understand her worry, lately I haven't exactly been a ball of sunshine of a child, but I also know that she completely missed the point. Chances are all she read was the cover.

Thus we are back to our friendly, neighborhood idiom, you can't judge a book by its cover.

What annoyed me, however, wasn't my grandmother sending me these links to happy books or my friends asking how I was doing, but it was the fact that the book was titled: "Against Happiness: In Praise of Melancholy" (mind you, the "In Praise of Melancholy" isn't even on the cover) despite Wilson saying that he was not against happiness, but against the overall obsession and pursuit of it.

'"It is inauthentic and shallow", charges Wilson, "to relentlessly seek happiness in a world full of tragedy."' (Bayard, of Salon Online Magazine and Washington Post)

His "exhibit A" is the rampant use of anti-depressants; mostly to people who do not truly need them, are in no danger of suicide or health issues, yet take them anyway just to feel a little happier.

If that isn't drug abuse I don't know what is.

I imagine the reason the book has the title it does is because of the publisher.

I don't have any experience with professional publishers, and can only work off of media portrayals and common sense. I know that publishers are part of a business, and the goal of a business is (brace yourself for this one...) to earn money.

Compare the title, "Against Happiness" to another, such as: "Our Need for Melancholy".

Any good publisher will tell you the first is the one that will cause for controversy, stir the pot, get people talking, and, as a result of all this, raise sales. (Though, I have to admit, my substitute title is a pretty close second...)

I write about this, months after this incident, because it has happened again.

While enjoying my regular viewing of the Colbert Report, the guest on this show, promoting her new book, was Dee Dee Myers. The title of this book is "Why Women Should Rule the World".

I admit, being easily distempered by statements of one sex being dominant to the other, that the title turned me off, but I was curious as to how Stephen would respond to this, so, naturally, I continued viewing.

Colbert took it just as I had at first, asking why she thought women were so much better than men, and she replied, saying that she did not think women were better than men and did not want women to rule over men but to rule alongside them as equals.

She said that if people could acknowledge all perspectives, such as having more women in decision-making roles in the government and businesses, there would be a lot more progress.

She said that women, undoubtedly, can have a very different way of looking at things than men and if the strengths of men are coupled with the strengths of women then much of the world's problems could be solved with so much more ease and efficiency.

What she said provided all I needed for a complete turn-around on my opinion of her book, and I found myself agreeing with everything she said.

Women should be treated and listened to just as much as men and the mixture of perspectives and tactics could do wonders for our country, or even the world.

But then I stopped and thought: "Why is the title, 'Why Women Should Rule the World'?"

The case is the same as the one above with Eric G. Wilson. In my mind I can so perfectly see the publishers pushing both of them to change their titles into something more interesting and controversial.

Myers' title has already won over 99.9% of the female population, and Wilson's proclamation against the prescribed school of thought has intrigued most who have merely heard the title.

Though, even with the increased sales and publicity, I don't know if I'd ever be comfortable with changing the title of one of my books solely for that reason... but I fear publishers most likely have contracts to do their biddings...

Thus, perhaps it is true, that you should never judge a book by its cover.

And yes, I suppose that could still work idiomatically, but it just makes more sense literally, alright?

Publishers don't seem to be an author's best friend... but, oh, how I dream of working with one anyways...

Hungry for Praise

2008-03-19T01:54:00.001-05:00

Just moments after I first created this blog, my eight-year-old sister inexplicably entered my room, paper in hand, and began talking; at 10:54 in the night, no less.

I am not all that surprised by the time, and definitely not surprised by her talking, but found the reason she was here a little sad.

The reason she entered my room at nearly 11 at night was to read me a story she had written. This might seem normal eight-year-old behavior but for my sister it was something that forced me to stop and think.

My sister, the bundle of joy that she is, has many astounding qualities... the most obvious of which may be her seemingly impenetrable and overbearing confidence.

She enjoys speaking and being the center of attention, the unfortunate mixture of my mother and step-father, and finds every opportunity to either make sure she is enjoying herself or to make sure nobody else is.

The reason I am telling you this is to show how interesting it was to me that she wanted my praise, something I have great difficulty in giving if I don't actually mean it.

Whether received or not, the need for praise seems universal in humans, myself included.

Even the most generous of people seem to proclaim their generosity in search of recognition.

I can't say this is a bad thing as generosity is generosity no matter how public, and if it helps somebody then who cares the praise the giver receives, though it feels like true generosity is that which is given without expectation of anything in return. But because this statement is already entering the region of cliched idealism I will leave it as it is.

The pure necessity that is praise must stem from our childhood, from being nurtured and told "Good job!" by our parents and teachers until suddenly, as you become a teenager and enter adulthood, all the pleasant compliments are dropped and transformed into the categories of "Satisfactory" and otherwise.

The colorful stickers, big, bolded exclamations of greatness, and certificates of achievement are suddenly deemed as something only little kids need; yet adults work through their jobs searching hopelessly for a superior to call them out as amazing, hard-working individuals.

This brings up the question of whether we should continue to celebrate satisfactory work into and through adulthood or whether the compliments should be reserved for only the most amazing of children, so they may grow accustomed to it as they grow into glorious, awe-inspiring adulthood.

The problem with praise is that as one is given it, another is left without it. Small children could easily cast out a child who constantly receives praise as they themselves are left with papers void of any colorful, bright letters of incredible achievement.

For many, the praise of a job well done is a lone motivation to work hard, and leaving the merely satisfactory without laudatory pats on the back could leave them to drift into the effortless life of an unsuccessful and unhappy delinquent.

The alternative to holding back the compliments, unfortunately, has its drawback as well.

Vomiting compliments onto employees could cause some demands of pay raises, and while all that might sound fine and dandy (if they are doing a great job, shouldn't they get great pay?), what happens after these raises?

The compliments continue and so do the demands, and when these demands aren't met (unfortunately employers don't have a bottomless well of salaries for their workers), a feeling of betrayal sets in. Workers feel they aren't being truly recognized for their amazing talents (screw the pat on the back, give me a dollar), and act accordingly.

Some may work harder and harder to try and gain attention until the day when they realize that it will never happen and quit their job in search for another that will, a job that most likely won't exist. Others may simply drop all pride and effort in their work altogether, feeling the compliments they receive as nothing but empty words used to squeeze the extra life out of them now while leaving them uncompensated.

The unfortunate fact of the matter is that each and every person reacts differently to praise, and must be lauded accordingly.

The second unfortunate fact of the matter is that no employer can get that personal with their workers, dealing them each their own brand of applause, as how one person reacts is often based heavily to how another reacts; a situation I always relate to a comedy club or television shows with their canned laughter. If it weren't for the other people laughing the jokes of any comedian could choke and die, splattering onto the floor beneath him as soon as they leave his lips.

Perhaps the answer to all this is in what we're already doing, and all we need to do is recognize it.

Perhaps my nonchalant "cool" which was given to my sister's one dimensional story of a girl who was obstinately climbing a tree was the perfect thing to say; perhaps it was cruel, or perhaps it was too much, and a "well, that's mediocre" response would have been better. Who knows...

All we can do is try and not hurt people's feelings unless they have asked for the uncensored, "tell it to me straight" version... and even then, lay it on a little thin at first... just to test the waters.