DISCLAIMER: The following is not meant to be taken seriously. The author and her friends do not wish harm upon any animal. Mosquitoes and flies aside.
Anyway.
Zephy and I were on the bus today, and we passed by the dog park. I pointed out that a lot of people were walking dogs, and then I asked Zephy, "If you had a dog would you walk it in the park?"
"Depends on what kind of dog," she said.
"I don't know—a long-haired dog, say."
"Are they hypoallergenic?"
At which point I remembered that I had forgotten that Zephy was allergic to cat and dog fur. So I said, "Probably not a long-haired dog then. What about chihuahuas?"
"My cousin has a chihuahua," she said. "It's named after my other cousin, so it's really confusing when we call its name. But I don't want a chihuahua."
"Hmm. What about—what else are you allergic to?"
"Cats, dogs, and dust. That's what the allergy report said."
"So you're not allergic to gerbils?"
"No, I'm not."
"So you could get a pet gerbil and walk it in the park! In one of those wheel things, except instead of staying still it would roll forward."
"You mean like a sphere?"
"Yeah! Except a wheel would be better, if it was wide enough so it wouldn't tip over. Because you could tie a leash to the side and—uh—walk it. But you probably couldn't really walk it since well—okay, maybe you could. You could pull on the string and then the wheel would roll and uh, the gerbil would just kind of tumble inside."
I guess this is why people "walk" their gerbils in stationary wheels.
. . .
Zephy told me that three people made AIME this year, including me, Tybalt, and some other person whose name she did not hear. But the cutoff score is 93, so maybe that last person was Sonny? It would be a bit annoying if he was the one, since he half-guessed his way there, but it's not like there's a prize for qualifying for AIME, so if he likes doing more math problems then good for him.
But I guess this means I should do more math problems. Instead of reading RSS every night. Although I am very up-to-date on various things such as the pseudo-flooding in Western Ohio, the near-Oscar-sweep for The King's Speech, and the various new functions of Google Docs.
You can't win it all, I guess. Not even golden statuettes that cost $150 each to produce.
. . .
I just realized today that Mr. Wollen's website says "First page you see" when you click his name from the school site.
He also has "First day of Spring!!!" on his March calendar.
I can't wait for spring to start, and for this snow to end. But I suppose I should get used to it, because I have now received both letters of acceptance and scholarship from McGill, and that is most likely where I will be going. So snow, hurrah! Good thing I'll soon be legal to drink, right? Don't they say cider's the best way to warm up on a cold winter night?
Or maybe that was hot chocolate. I like those better anyway.
I also need to choose whether I want to major in biomath or EEE. Yes, those are actual majors. I'm thinking that I'd rather major in biomath, since if McGill hadn't offered it I would most likely have gone for a biology or math major with the other as a minor. But EEE! If I minored in English (no way, but if I were to) it'd abbreviate to EEEE! And if I picked up economics as another minor, EEEEE!
Okay. That is not a good reason.
The real reason is that engineering is a rather fast-changing field, and it's something that generally does not require being in one place for a long time, and that's tempting. Dealing with high-tech is tempting too. As well as this whole "applied" business, because after all applied math goes hand in hand with engineering.
So I will ruminate for a couple of months and decide later.
Showing posts with label Mr. Wollen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr. Wollen. Show all posts
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, November 5, 2010
Funny How It Just Is Like That
I walked upstairs to put my coat in my locker this morning and heard the bell ring for the 10-minute warning. My bus had been relatively early (compared to the past few days), and I still had time to go to the Chinese thing Dora asked me to go to yesterday. I thought about going, but in the end, I decided on not going. Not with what I had been musing over for the past few days, anyway.
I went down the hall, hoping to see someone else I had in mind, even though I knew he would not be there. He had never been there on Fridays. And even as I walked past the door, I thought, "No way. I'm deluding myself."
And there he was.
I backtracked a few steps and went in, said hi. Made all the formal and non-formal greetings. It was such a normal conversation, on such a trivial thing, and it was just so relieving. I wanted that—I had missed that. He left when the 5-minute bell rang, and I left too, after a while, and I saw Micro and we talked about social studies (and our shared social studies teacher).
Yesterday, I moped about not knowing what I wanted. Confusion, yes. It is still muddled. But I do know, at least in part, what the things I want feels like. And being able to talk to Micro about the most ridiculous and pointless things felt like one of those moments.
The eyes too. I can't forget the eyes, and yes, it's the other stuff that counts, but I can't forget the eyes.
Not feeling guilty, that helps too.
Our greetings are less awkward now. A small improvement. And it somehow meant all the world to me. (Although it's still in less-than-ideal situations, where we find ourselves, that is. It always is, for some reason.)
In French, I knew I had lost it again. Any semblance to rational thought. A prelude, to when I would have to pull up those rusty French skills because I could not stop at the door. I should have known better, but when invited, I just could not stop.
The insane. I don't like insanity, because it is so infuriating most of the times, but I would rather be insane than nothing at all.
I asked Clay about California, wanted to know what it was like. More laid-back, he said. Northern California, at least, especially San Francisco. He is more of a west coast person. I always think I am more of an east coast girl, not just because I have lived here for the longest, but also because I dream of letting go and being free, but I never quite am. Tied back by traditions, you might say. The good old South Carolina, maybe even Charleston, made (more) famous by homeboy Rhett Butler.
I am getting a normal backpack for Monday. No more of this nonsense. I wish I could have some more time to talk to Argon, because I miss those moments dearly, and I even miss the illogical logic Reese always sprouts. His hand-motions. The way he always manages to exasperate and amuse me at the same time. And even as I am writing this, I know this is an easily solved problem. I shall just have to spend more time with them, all other consequences be damned.
Meanwhile, I am glad for Fridays, for how it just turned out like that.
. . .
No story update today. I'm bad, I know, it's only been the third day, but I really need to finish homework as well, and do lots of other things I promised myself I would.
. . .
On a more cheerful note, we worked on proofs in multi today, as Gretchen has already mentioned. Proof by mathematical induction. Number theory. Argon has a number theory binder full of really interesting notes, and I had borrowed it for a long while but never cracked down on any of it. For an entire year. I just said to myself, "I'll get to it one day, one of these days," and it never happened.
But now we are learning about it, and I am happy.
I also need to stop turning my back to Mercle in econ (also, who came up with such a name?). That I need to remember. I like him a lot, so he should not be ignored, even if it was unintentional. From now on I propose to sit properly in my seat, unless Mr. Wollen is going to write on the board behind me. In econ, we also compared water bottle designs and the demographic/socioeconomic group each design targeted. I volunteered my Hint water bottle, and Mr. Wollen said, "See, that's the exact same product, but packaged so it'll sell for more."
"No, it's not the same," Ali said. "That water's flavored."
"Oh," Mr. Wollen said. "Then you can justify paying more for it."
Not really. It doesn't taste that good. Not enough sugar. But I guess I should have known, since it does say on the label that it is unsweetened.
Oh, there was also frisbee today. I had considered not going, but I went anyway. There were only five of us, but it was still fun. Elaine came too, although she could not stay for too long, and she left before a real game actually began, but we threw frisbees around for a while.
. . .
Pandora is getting better at predicting my preferences now.
And that is the end for today.
I went down the hall, hoping to see someone else I had in mind, even though I knew he would not be there. He had never been there on Fridays. And even as I walked past the door, I thought, "No way. I'm deluding myself."
And there he was.
I backtracked a few steps and went in, said hi. Made all the formal and non-formal greetings. It was such a normal conversation, on such a trivial thing, and it was just so relieving. I wanted that—I had missed that. He left when the 5-minute bell rang, and I left too, after a while, and I saw Micro and we talked about social studies (and our shared social studies teacher).
Yesterday, I moped about not knowing what I wanted. Confusion, yes. It is still muddled. But I do know, at least in part, what the things I want feels like. And being able to talk to Micro about the most ridiculous and pointless things felt like one of those moments.
The eyes too. I can't forget the eyes, and yes, it's the other stuff that counts, but I can't forget the eyes.
Not feeling guilty, that helps too.
Our greetings are less awkward now. A small improvement. And it somehow meant all the world to me. (Although it's still in less-than-ideal situations, where we find ourselves, that is. It always is, for some reason.)
In French, I knew I had lost it again. Any semblance to rational thought. A prelude, to when I would have to pull up those rusty French skills because I could not stop at the door. I should have known better, but when invited, I just could not stop.
The insane. I don't like insanity, because it is so infuriating most of the times, but I would rather be insane than nothing at all.
I asked Clay about California, wanted to know what it was like. More laid-back, he said. Northern California, at least, especially San Francisco. He is more of a west coast person. I always think I am more of an east coast girl, not just because I have lived here for the longest, but also because I dream of letting go and being free, but I never quite am. Tied back by traditions, you might say. The good old South Carolina, maybe even Charleston, made (more) famous by homeboy Rhett Butler.
I am getting a normal backpack for Monday. No more of this nonsense. I wish I could have some more time to talk to Argon, because I miss those moments dearly, and I even miss the illogical logic Reese always sprouts. His hand-motions. The way he always manages to exasperate and amuse me at the same time. And even as I am writing this, I know this is an easily solved problem. I shall just have to spend more time with them, all other consequences be damned.
Meanwhile, I am glad for Fridays, for how it just turned out like that.
. . .
No story update today. I'm bad, I know, it's only been the third day, but I really need to finish homework as well, and do lots of other things I promised myself I would.
. . .
On a more cheerful note, we worked on proofs in multi today, as Gretchen has already mentioned. Proof by mathematical induction. Number theory. Argon has a number theory binder full of really interesting notes, and I had borrowed it for a long while but never cracked down on any of it. For an entire year. I just said to myself, "I'll get to it one day, one of these days," and it never happened.
But now we are learning about it, and I am happy.
I also need to stop turning my back to Mercle in econ (also, who came up with such a name?). That I need to remember. I like him a lot, so he should not be ignored, even if it was unintentional. From now on I propose to sit properly in my seat, unless Mr. Wollen is going to write on the board behind me. In econ, we also compared water bottle designs and the demographic/socioeconomic group each design targeted. I volunteered my Hint water bottle, and Mr. Wollen said, "See, that's the exact same product, but packaged so it'll sell for more."
"No, it's not the same," Ali said. "That water's flavored."
"Oh," Mr. Wollen said. "Then you can justify paying more for it."
Not really. It doesn't taste that good. Not enough sugar. But I guess I should have known, since it does say on the label that it is unsweetened.
Oh, there was also frisbee today. I had considered not going, but I went anyway. There were only five of us, but it was still fun. Elaine came too, although she could not stay for too long, and she left before a real game actually began, but we threw frisbees around for a while.
. . .
Pandora is getting better at predicting my preferences now.
And that is the end for today.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Honesty First
On the online application for any retail job at a Stop&Shop store, it asks (something along these lines), "Have you ever taken supplies from the store (minor office supplies not included) without telling your store manager?"
Then you get to choose how much you took or, if you didn't take anything, the "none" option.
For the ShopRite application, not only does it warn you that the application will take around 45-60 minutes, it also makes you sign up for an account so you can save your information prior to submitting. I don't understand why they can't just make the applications shorter and cut out some of the stupid questions. Like, have you stolen money from your previous employer?
Seriously? If I had, would I be telling you?
Anyway. Bryant today tried to tell me about his woeful Friday, when he has five tests, and I nodded along, trying to pretend I was paying attention. Honestly, Bryant, I don't care how many tests you have. Stop complaining to me. I've got enough to worry about for myself.
But of course, instead of saying that out loud, I listened to him speculate that we would have a multi test within this week. And whine about his utexas. Among numerous other things I would not have expected to come from him, but since I never really sat close to him for extended periods of time, maybe I've just not been exposed to his more, uh, not content side.
In other (more interesting, perhaps) news, the Penn representative who was supposed to come to our school today did not show up. Or at least, I think she did not show up. The bell rang fifteen minutes after she was supposed to come, and I had an econ test next, so I told myself, "Oh, I'll wait a few more minutes." Then I saw Mr. Wollen walk by the door, so I decided, oh well, econ test is more important than listening to something I probably know already anyway.
I got an email later from my counselor saying that the rep is coming on Thursday. During my free.
A little sacrifice, but I can deal with that. I mean, I'm applying ED to this school, I should be able to sacrifice some things.
Which reminds me, yesterday, after I asked Bryant if he had a blue tie (he doesn't, but he has a red one and gold one), he randomly asked, "Just out of curiosity, where are you applying early?"
I wonder how long he's been waiting to ask me that?
I asked Dino too (about the tie), and he said, "I don't have any ties," and refused to answer my question as to why his profile picture clearly shows him in a tie. Then, as I elaborated that I'd like stripes on that tie, he asked, "Are you kidding?" Way to trust my totally legitimate inquiries.
Later on, he told me that Tybalt had such a tie, which is a complete lie.
Then you get to choose how much you took or, if you didn't take anything, the "none" option.
For the ShopRite application, not only does it warn you that the application will take around 45-60 minutes, it also makes you sign up for an account so you can save your information prior to submitting. I don't understand why they can't just make the applications shorter and cut out some of the stupid questions. Like, have you stolen money from your previous employer?
Seriously? If I had, would I be telling you?
Anyway. Bryant today tried to tell me about his woeful Friday, when he has five tests, and I nodded along, trying to pretend I was paying attention. Honestly, Bryant, I don't care how many tests you have. Stop complaining to me. I've got enough to worry about for myself.
But of course, instead of saying that out loud, I listened to him speculate that we would have a multi test within this week. And whine about his utexas. Among numerous other things I would not have expected to come from him, but since I never really sat close to him for extended periods of time, maybe I've just not been exposed to his more, uh, not content side.
In other (more interesting, perhaps) news, the Penn representative who was supposed to come to our school today did not show up. Or at least, I think she did not show up. The bell rang fifteen minutes after she was supposed to come, and I had an econ test next, so I told myself, "Oh, I'll wait a few more minutes." Then I saw Mr. Wollen walk by the door, so I decided, oh well, econ test is more important than listening to something I probably know already anyway.
I got an email later from my counselor saying that the rep is coming on Thursday. During my free.
A little sacrifice, but I can deal with that. I mean, I'm applying ED to this school, I should be able to sacrifice some things.
Which reminds me, yesterday, after I asked Bryant if he had a blue tie (he doesn't, but he has a red one and gold one), he randomly asked, "Just out of curiosity, where are you applying early?"
I wonder how long he's been waiting to ask me that?
I asked Dino too (about the tie), and he said, "I don't have any ties," and refused to answer my question as to why his profile picture clearly shows him in a tie. Then, as I elaborated that I'd like stripes on that tie, he asked, "Are you kidding?" Way to trust my totally legitimate inquiries.
Later on, he told me that Tybalt had such a tie, which is a complete lie.
Monday, October 4, 2010
October: A Prelude
I have found it increasingly harder to write about things that haven't happened at all, and much easier to write about things that have at least happened in part. I am not sure why—the other day, I was trying to write a story to keep my mind off upcoming college essays (because that is all I think about now), and I just couldn't do it. The beginning sounded weird, and I just couldn't go on from there.
I am exhausted, too, from all the work. I had a test in bio (yay for organelles), which took half an hour, and for the next fifteen minutes it was so hard to focus. It could also be because I don't have my chapter 7 notes, or that I just find it hard to focus in bio in general. The powerpoints make me drowsy, and there is so little math right now (I don't know if this will change). Also, I wish that this one girl in my class would just stop asking questions. I mean, I know, questions are good, but a question every other slide? Is that really necessary?
I also find it really hard to focus in econ, but I think I can manage bursts of attentiveness, so I use the lapses in-between to doodle on Yuma's or Joss's (again with the possessives) notebook. It has so far worked out really well. I am also participating a lot more, so I think Mr. Wollen has not realized my periodic lack of attention.
Anyway, I mentioned all of this (with every paragraph starting with an "I") to state what I think will be the pace for the rest of October. So, yes, I am mostly done with my common app, I am mostly done with my Penn essay, and I am half done with my Chicago essays, but there is still so much more to do. Plus I have to remember that I have two umbrellas left in my locker. I keep forgetting them.
There are, of course, happy bits stuck in-between. Relaxing times. There is math team (first meet of the year this Wednesday! can't wait), and science bowl is very, very exciting too. There is all this stuff that I can get done in my free, even though I have so much fun too. I am reading my daily dose of webcomics (both nerdy and not). Following tons of blogs. Reading lots of Middle East news (the class is doing wonders for my awareness of the area).
(This list of "relaxing" things is probably not very relaxing to many people.)
Regardless. I think I'm having a lot of fun. If I were metaphorical (and I am, but I'm not very good with music so I can't think of much to connect this back to the "prelude"), I would be talking about some musical piece right now. About how the sad, solemn pieces are broken apart by franticly happy parts. Or maybe my music of life is just set at a really fast tempo right now. Reminds me of that tango music we played back in grade eight (the one with all that plucking that gave my thumb blisters). Or maybe even "Amadeus." Don't remember much, though. I was rather glad to be rid of my music classes.
And amidst all of these musical analogies, let's hope Thursdays come by quickly. (Well, I'm also hoping 1st semester never ends, but I don't think many people hold that same hope.)
I am exhausted, too, from all the work. I had a test in bio (yay for organelles), which took half an hour, and for the next fifteen minutes it was so hard to focus. It could also be because I don't have my chapter 7 notes, or that I just find it hard to focus in bio in general. The powerpoints make me drowsy, and there is so little math right now (I don't know if this will change). Also, I wish that this one girl in my class would just stop asking questions. I mean, I know, questions are good, but a question every other slide? Is that really necessary?
I also find it really hard to focus in econ, but I think I can manage bursts of attentiveness, so I use the lapses in-between to doodle on Yuma's or Joss's (again with the possessives) notebook. It has so far worked out really well. I am also participating a lot more, so I think Mr. Wollen has not realized my periodic lack of attention.
Anyway, I mentioned all of this (with every paragraph starting with an "I") to state what I think will be the pace for the rest of October. So, yes, I am mostly done with my common app, I am mostly done with my Penn essay, and I am half done with my Chicago essays, but there is still so much more to do. Plus I have to remember that I have two umbrellas left in my locker. I keep forgetting them.
There are, of course, happy bits stuck in-between. Relaxing times. There is math team (first meet of the year this Wednesday! can't wait), and science bowl is very, very exciting too. There is all this stuff that I can get done in my free, even though I have so much fun too. I am reading my daily dose of webcomics (both nerdy and not). Following tons of blogs. Reading lots of Middle East news (the class is doing wonders for my awareness of the area).
(This list of "relaxing" things is probably not very relaxing to many people.)
Regardless. I think I'm having a lot of fun. If I were metaphorical (and I am, but I'm not very good with music so I can't think of much to connect this back to the "prelude"), I would be talking about some musical piece right now. About how the sad, solemn pieces are broken apart by franticly happy parts. Or maybe my music of life is just set at a really fast tempo right now. Reminds me of that tango music we played back in grade eight (the one with all that plucking that gave my thumb blisters). Or maybe even "Amadeus." Don't remember much, though. I was rather glad to be rid of my music classes.
And amidst all of these musical analogies, let's hope Thursdays come by quickly. (Well, I'm also hoping 1st semester never ends, but I don't think many people hold that same hope.)
Saturday, September 18, 2010
It's a Small, Small World
My parents went out today to get my dad's passport photos taken, but since we have Canadian passports, he had to get specific pictures that have to abide by a host of rules. Like certain size requirements, no hands in pictures, no tilted faces, and of course, no smiles. I don't know why, but these requirements somehow makes for ugly pictures. I have always hated my passport photos with a passion.
Anyway, because his photo had to follow those rules, he couldn't get them from the post office (which normally takes photos for US passports). Instead, my parents went to find a professional photographer, and I presume explain the rules to take a custom picture.
They came back an hour or so later, and as my mom walked in she asked, "Was there a freshman in your English class sophomore year?"
I, obviously confused, said, "No. Why?"
"The son of our photographer said he was in your English class freshman year. What's his name again—Camet—wait, let's see if you recognize the last name from the business card."
She took the card out, and I realized it was Cameron. We never shared an English class together, but I was in his French class, so perhaps he confused the two. I mean, English, French. Big difference.
But speaking of Cameron. (I guess this is the pitfall of having nicknames that resemble real names.)
I had this typed up already.
. . .
Again with the thoughts.
. . .
I spent my car ride to the border (a good five or six hours, not including food time) and back thinking, as usual.
We left at 11 the night before, because my dad was intent on having me come back on time to finish my homework and other things I need to write. I was bringing the pillows and blankets out to the car, and I stared up at the sky, and it was breath-taking. I can’t see very well (I need new prescriptions for my glasses), but I could still make out a lot of the stars twinkling in the sky. (Although I have read somewhere, but I forgot where, that “twinkling” is not the best word to use in these situations because it implies happiness.) Silver-diamonds against a soft, satiny night.
I wanted to cry. I think I did.
There were a lot of things I wanted to say, but instead we drove towards that small Vermont town with the funny name and lies half-here, half-there. I slept for most of the way there, sat in a small room trying to eavesdrop on two people speaking French in front of me, then stared out the window on the way back. I thought I’d read awhile, but decided not to at the last minute.
There are some things you can’t say out loud.
. . .
These nights, I dream about running. I am running away from something—I don’t know what. I am just running, and someone, or something, is chasing me, and I must run as fast as I can and climb over fences and jump across rivers. I am fleeing, fleeing, and I am not fleeing fast enough. I am a goner, I think, I am going to die. I am in the panic between running and giving up, I want to scream, to shield myself from the inevitable, and then, and then, and then I wake up.
There is a lurching in my stomach, and maybe my heart, but that is it. The feeling fades. No more. Until the next time I am running, but I do not see the pattern until several nights in, when I wake up and there is a déjà vu moment, and I realize that I have been dreaming the same things all these nights.
. . .
I saw Cammie Thursday. At lunch, with Yuma. Upset over English, and many other things, and suddenly, she was there. In a black skirt.
I called out her name. She came and sat with us. We talked about some things. English, I think. Guidance stuff. Yuma asked about math. I am not sure how well I handled the situation. I was afraid to say anything beyond the trivial. Wasn’t sure what she wanted. Wasn’t sure if I could give it to her.
I would have wanted to forget, but that is because I am constantly running away from reality. I am not sure that is what everyone would want. I am not sure if that is even the best thing. If I make the best decisions. If it even matters, because I am not as rational as I would like to be (despite Mr. Wollen’s claims that we are all rational beings).
. . .
I cut across the the narrow gap between the two cars, and as I was walking, someone called, “What’s up?” I spun around, trying to look at who was talking, and tripped over the curb and fell. The car full of boys—no doubt it was them—laughed. I had never seen them before, but they were probably seniors (or maybe juniors, but then they would be conducting illegal business in driving each other around).
Thank you. I hadn’t realized I was so clumsy before. Thank you so much for reminding me.
They drove off. I do not know if they will remember me. I don’t think I’ll remember them. I was always bad with faces.
It’s a good thing. I wouldn’t know what to say even if I did see them again.
. . .
Gretchen said that Tea looked nerdy. And that I looked smart. And that Bryant looked both nerdy and smart. I would say that Bryant always looks like he can read my mind. Every time I am doing something, and I catch his gaze, he looks like he can see some deep, dark secret I have (and I don’t have any, or at least I’m not thinking of any when I happen to be around him), and I freak out and look away.
It is getting on my nerves. He needs to stop staring at people like that. Unless he does it on purpose, to make people think he knows more than he actually does. Or he can actually read my mind, and oh my god that is not good.
I am considering transferring into his English class (not the best decision, according to him, but the other choice is Brit Lit and there is someone there I would rather not be with right now). I don’t think I will—Caribbean is not my favorite style of writing—and I don’t really want to leave my English class right now either.
But if I did, and I changed my bio class into period 8 (because then it would be free), then I would share 3.5 classes with Bryant, and maybe 4 if I changed my area studies. It is all possible, although all unlikely. With Bryant, I am unwilling to sacrifice too much. Or maybe I am, in general, unwilling to sacrifice too much now. Because there is too much pain associated with sacrificing. And it won't always end well.
. . .
This week was awful. Beyond awful, but I don't have words to describe it. But I have figured out both equations to my take-home portion of the multi test, and that is due next week, so I am grasping onto hope (even if I only have a few strands of it). I am hoping tomorrow (and the next week, and the next month, and the next year) will be better.
After all, tomorrow is another day.
Anyway, because his photo had to follow those rules, he couldn't get them from the post office (which normally takes photos for US passports). Instead, my parents went to find a professional photographer, and I presume explain the rules to take a custom picture.
They came back an hour or so later, and as my mom walked in she asked, "Was there a freshman in your English class sophomore year?"
I, obviously confused, said, "No. Why?"
"The son of our photographer said he was in your English class freshman year. What's his name again—Camet—wait, let's see if you recognize the last name from the business card."
She took the card out, and I realized it was Cameron. We never shared an English class together, but I was in his French class, so perhaps he confused the two. I mean, English, French. Big difference.
But speaking of Cameron. (I guess this is the pitfall of having nicknames that resemble real names.)
I had this typed up already.
. . .
Again with the thoughts.
. . .
I spent my car ride to the border (a good five or six hours, not including food time) and back thinking, as usual.
We left at 11 the night before, because my dad was intent on having me come back on time to finish my homework and other things I need to write. I was bringing the pillows and blankets out to the car, and I stared up at the sky, and it was breath-taking. I can’t see very well (I need new prescriptions for my glasses), but I could still make out a lot of the stars twinkling in the sky. (Although I have read somewhere, but I forgot where, that “twinkling” is not the best word to use in these situations because it implies happiness.) Silver-diamonds against a soft, satiny night.
I wanted to cry. I think I did.
There were a lot of things I wanted to say, but instead we drove towards that small Vermont town with the funny name and lies half-here, half-there. I slept for most of the way there, sat in a small room trying to eavesdrop on two people speaking French in front of me, then stared out the window on the way back. I thought I’d read awhile, but decided not to at the last minute.
There are some things you can’t say out loud.
. . .
These nights, I dream about running. I am running away from something—I don’t know what. I am just running, and someone, or something, is chasing me, and I must run as fast as I can and climb over fences and jump across rivers. I am fleeing, fleeing, and I am not fleeing fast enough. I am a goner, I think, I am going to die. I am in the panic between running and giving up, I want to scream, to shield myself from the inevitable, and then, and then, and then I wake up.
There is a lurching in my stomach, and maybe my heart, but that is it. The feeling fades. No more. Until the next time I am running, but I do not see the pattern until several nights in, when I wake up and there is a déjà vu moment, and I realize that I have been dreaming the same things all these nights.
. . .
I saw Cammie Thursday. At lunch, with Yuma. Upset over English, and many other things, and suddenly, she was there. In a black skirt.
I called out her name. She came and sat with us. We talked about some things. English, I think. Guidance stuff. Yuma asked about math. I am not sure how well I handled the situation. I was afraid to say anything beyond the trivial. Wasn’t sure what she wanted. Wasn’t sure if I could give it to her.
I would have wanted to forget, but that is because I am constantly running away from reality. I am not sure that is what everyone would want. I am not sure if that is even the best thing. If I make the best decisions. If it even matters, because I am not as rational as I would like to be (despite Mr. Wollen’s claims that we are all rational beings).
. . .
I cut across the the narrow gap between the two cars, and as I was walking, someone called, “What’s up?” I spun around, trying to look at who was talking, and tripped over the curb and fell. The car full of boys—no doubt it was them—laughed. I had never seen them before, but they were probably seniors (or maybe juniors, but then they would be conducting illegal business in driving each other around).
Thank you. I hadn’t realized I was so clumsy before. Thank you so much for reminding me.
They drove off. I do not know if they will remember me. I don’t think I’ll remember them. I was always bad with faces.
It’s a good thing. I wouldn’t know what to say even if I did see them again.
. . .
Gretchen said that Tea looked nerdy. And that I looked smart. And that Bryant looked both nerdy and smart. I would say that Bryant always looks like he can read my mind. Every time I am doing something, and I catch his gaze, he looks like he can see some deep, dark secret I have (and I don’t have any, or at least I’m not thinking of any when I happen to be around him), and I freak out and look away.
It is getting on my nerves. He needs to stop staring at people like that. Unless he does it on purpose, to make people think he knows more than he actually does. Or he can actually read my mind, and oh my god that is not good.
I am considering transferring into his English class (not the best decision, according to him, but the other choice is Brit Lit and there is someone there I would rather not be with right now). I don’t think I will—Caribbean is not my favorite style of writing—and I don’t really want to leave my English class right now either.
But if I did, and I changed my bio class into period 8 (because then it would be free), then I would share 3.5 classes with Bryant, and maybe 4 if I changed my area studies. It is all possible, although all unlikely. With Bryant, I am unwilling to sacrifice too much. Or maybe I am, in general, unwilling to sacrifice too much now. Because there is too much pain associated with sacrificing. And it won't always end well.
. . .
This week was awful. Beyond awful, but I don't have words to describe it. But I have figured out both equations to my take-home portion of the multi test, and that is due next week, so I am grasping onto hope (even if I only have a few strands of it). I am hoping tomorrow (and the next week, and the next month, and the next year) will be better.
After all, tomorrow is another day.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
So This Is What It's Like After APs
I had calc first period this morning, and when I walked in, Sonny and Dino were already there (I don't remember seeing Sonny at the library this morning, so either I somehow missed him, or he went straight to class). Since I was on my MID*, I sat down and took out my physics lab, the one that was due today that I was going to do at 2AM, but decided against it after reading three chapters of BDSMN. Interesting how physics labs always have titles with puns and such. I still remember one of our earliest labs, on kinematics and using fans attached onto plastic cars, was called "I'm a Fan of This," and my lab today, on standing waves, was called "Do The Wave."
Anyway, I had already started by drawing the x- and y-axis, and labeled them with Tea's help. That was only question one. I had around five questions in total, and question five had five parts. So I started plotting points and writing down definitions. Mrs. James (along with most of the class who were not away) came in within the next five minutes, and then we promptly started class.
Which was mostly Mrs. James trying to guess what our—oh, wait, I can't say, it's not been 48 hours yet, but it's the last question on the free response, if you know what I'm talking about (and if you don't, it's not a huge loss). Then Scott talked about the AP econ finals scandal, and how one of Mr. Wollen's class will not be getting a curve on their test because of the suspicion of cheating. Mrs. James said we could watch movies for the next week, and then we had to get down to work (the long-awaited project), but it would be nothing too hard. Half-way through the class, Mrs. Pastel came in and talked about how the two period 5 calc classes should compete against each other in outdoorsy activities the week after the seniors are gone.
By the time the bell rang, I had finished four questions, and was on my fifth, and I think that had been one of the most unproductive calc classes I have ever had (except on those days when Mrs. James was out and we played computer games instead of the problem sets she gave us).
I managed to finish my lab by period 4, my physics class, and handed it in (although I would not bet on its accuracy). Then, after a brief review of sound waves (and the promise of another lab tomorrow), Mr. Stencil went on Youtube to find a video of a wine glass breaking when the sound waves from an amplifier is in resonance with the natural waves (at least that's what I think they are) of the crystal/glass. We watched that, which was really cool, because the glass wobbled so much before it actually broke. Then we watched the video where a girl sang to break the wine glass (after many, many tries and many, many deep breaths). After that, we watched this video, which is by far the most amazing one of all of them.
During this time, I read two more chapters of Huck Finn (I needed to read ten by period 6), which was a rather huge accomplishment for me, because I had been watching all of the videos as well. I think my multi-tasking skill is improving. I'm not sure if that's a good thing.
After physics, I had my other post-AP math class, stat. We were watching a movie, 21 (the one where the MIT students count cards in casinos). It was an interesting movie, despite the few bits I managed pull out, because I read six more chapters of Huck Finn during that time as well. Their memorization skills are amazing. But I suppose they're MIT students (the leading guy was supposed to go to Harvard med school, but he didn't have enough money to afford it), so it's not that surprising.
I went to English having two chapter not finished, and the guy who sits next to me told me that I had missed a pop quiz on the reading yesterday. Angry guy and Mogley had also missed it (I never knew angry guy was in calc—I just knew he was in my stat class), so our teacher gave us the quiz, which was supposed to take only five minutes. Despite having skimmed most of the pages, read more than half of them while watching movies and videos, and not reading the last two chapters, I managed to answer with certainty all but two questions (they were multiple choice questions, which made it much easier). I guessed the last two, one of which was that (major spoilers, perhaps) Buck died. I remembered something along the lines of Buck dying back from the first time I read the story (three years ago, I think), and afterwards, I learned that it was right. Yay for super long-term memory!
So what did I learn today? In US I learned (somewhat) that our judicial system is still pretty flawed (why can't the prosecution appeal? That makes no sense at all, at least not to me), but it's been much better than before (when all the jury were white and male). And in health, we learned birth control methods. Did you know that you leave something like NuvaRing in your vagina for 21 days, take it out for 7, then put it back in for another 21?
Yeah. I've learned a lot today.
(Also, after school, as I was walking over to my bus, I saw Owen standing there, looking back at who knows what. Then he went back towards the front entrance, and I got on my bus. Later on, as I sat in the front row, I saw him and Dino getting on the bus next to mine together. So much for Owen driving.)
*Mission: Ignore Dino.
Anyway, I had already started by drawing the x- and y-axis, and labeled them with Tea's help. That was only question one. I had around five questions in total, and question five had five parts. So I started plotting points and writing down definitions. Mrs. James (along with most of the class who were not away) came in within the next five minutes, and then we promptly started class.
Which was mostly Mrs. James trying to guess what our—oh, wait, I can't say, it's not been 48 hours yet, but it's the last question on the free response, if you know what I'm talking about (and if you don't, it's not a huge loss). Then Scott talked about the AP econ finals scandal, and how one of Mr. Wollen's class will not be getting a curve on their test because of the suspicion of cheating. Mrs. James said we could watch movies for the next week, and then we had to get down to work (the long-awaited project), but it would be nothing too hard. Half-way through the class, Mrs. Pastel came in and talked about how the two period 5 calc classes should compete against each other in outdoorsy activities the week after the seniors are gone.
By the time the bell rang, I had finished four questions, and was on my fifth, and I think that had been one of the most unproductive calc classes I have ever had (except on those days when Mrs. James was out and we played computer games instead of the problem sets she gave us).
I managed to finish my lab by period 4, my physics class, and handed it in (although I would not bet on its accuracy). Then, after a brief review of sound waves (and the promise of another lab tomorrow), Mr. Stencil went on Youtube to find a video of a wine glass breaking when the sound waves from an amplifier is in resonance with the natural waves (at least that's what I think they are) of the crystal/glass. We watched that, which was really cool, because the glass wobbled so much before it actually broke. Then we watched the video where a girl sang to break the wine glass (after many, many tries and many, many deep breaths). After that, we watched this video, which is by far the most amazing one of all of them.
During this time, I read two more chapters of Huck Finn (I needed to read ten by period 6), which was a rather huge accomplishment for me, because I had been watching all of the videos as well. I think my multi-tasking skill is improving. I'm not sure if that's a good thing.
After physics, I had my other post-AP math class, stat. We were watching a movie, 21 (the one where the MIT students count cards in casinos). It was an interesting movie, despite the few bits I managed pull out, because I read six more chapters of Huck Finn during that time as well. Their memorization skills are amazing. But I suppose they're MIT students (the leading guy was supposed to go to Harvard med school, but he didn't have enough money to afford it), so it's not that surprising.
I went to English having two chapter not finished, and the guy who sits next to me told me that I had missed a pop quiz on the reading yesterday. Angry guy and Mogley had also missed it (I never knew angry guy was in calc—I just knew he was in my stat class), so our teacher gave us the quiz, which was supposed to take only five minutes. Despite having skimmed most of the pages, read more than half of them while watching movies and videos, and not reading the last two chapters, I managed to answer with certainty all but two questions (they were multiple choice questions, which made it much easier). I guessed the last two, one of which was that (major spoilers, perhaps) Buck died. I remembered something along the lines of Buck dying back from the first time I read the story (three years ago, I think), and afterwards, I learned that it was right. Yay for super long-term memory!
So what did I learn today? In US I learned (somewhat) that our judicial system is still pretty flawed (why can't the prosecution appeal? That makes no sense at all, at least not to me), but it's been much better than before (when all the jury were white and male). And in health, we learned birth control methods. Did you know that you leave something like NuvaRing in your vagina for 21 days, take it out for 7, then put it back in for another 21?
Yeah. I've learned a lot today.
(Also, after school, as I was walking over to my bus, I saw Owen standing there, looking back at who knows what. Then he went back towards the front entrance, and I got on my bus. Later on, as I sat in the front row, I saw him and Dino getting on the bus next to mine together. So much for Owen driving.)
*Mission: Ignore Dino.
