Why You Should Own A Pet Gerbil, Now

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.

There Was Snow, White Snow

Five minutes from the heavily anticipated announcement of whether we will have an early dismissal or not, Mr. Littney, who had earlier asked us to discuss all of the books we had read for class thus far, asked, "What would Gregor from Metamorphosis say if he knew that a snow day was coming up?"

We stared at him for a while, not quite understanding his question.

"I think he wouldn't even notice," Mr. Littney went on to say. "I think he would be so entrenched in his routine that he wouldn't even notice there was snow. What about Return of the Soldier?"

"Chris would probably be staring out at the snow and reminiscing some wonderful moment with Margaret," someone said.

For Brave New World, Sonny said, "I think there wouldn't be any snow. They would just make it go away." Some else said, "People couldn't have snowball fights unless they used complicated machinery that increased consumption."

For Hamlet, Cammie said, "Hamlet would probably be the superintendent, trying to decide whether we should have an early dismissal or not." And Mr. Littney added, "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to have an early dismissal or to suffer until 2:15."

And for Aura, Mr. Littney said, "You look outside at the snow, and it is not snow anymore!" "And cats are burning on the trees," someone else added.

Oh, English.

(At the beginning of class, we had a one-minute discussion of the snow, which included Mr. Littney saying, "This is AP, get nothing and expect even less," in response to the collective groan when he pulled up the blinds so we could better stare at the tantalizing snow falling outside.)

. . .

We had our early dismissal, after all. I came home realizing that if we had not had an early dismissal, I would have had to explain multiple incomplete homeworks. And it wasn't that I had banked on the possibility of a snow day—I went to bed fully prepared to plot out my day according to the plan that there would be a full day of school.

There is lethargy in the air. Scatter-brained.

My back hurts. I thought it was because I sleep in shriveled-up positions, but now that I think about it, perhaps it is more because I had been leaning against unforgiving edges for a prolonged time yesterday. I am not the flexible girl I used to be, the one who could raise her feet to almost behind her head. That was years ago. This is now. This is painful.

I am tired, I am sleepy, and it is but a week since our last break. I slept a ridiculous amount during break, extended, 12+ hours. Sometimes 18. Sometimes more.

Sometimes I want to sleep even more, but it is now painful to lie down on my back, so sleep will, once again, be elusive.

. . .

My dad is talking about one of my cousins, who dated a boy in high school throughout college. The boy went to a better school. My parents often said that was the reason they broke up right at the end of college.

The cousin got a job half a country away, in a factory, and there, she met her future husband. Who cheated on her. She got a divorce and moved back home.

And in China, a divorce is still a huge deal. It is reputation-destroying. You won't ever be the same anymore.

At home, she found someone else, a man with a child.

Which is somehow even worse. These are some values I cannot, cannot agree with. But they are reality. I am not in accord with reality.

My dad does not approve of this relationship (neither does my grandmother, for that matter). He thinks it won't work out. Ever the optimist, he is. He will, most likely, have little say in this matter, but he has a lot of say in other matters closer to home.

. . .

The days are long, and the nights longer. Long Day's Journey into Night. I think I make up for my lack of TV-knowledge with a good deal of literary references. I am not sure if that is any better. If one is inherently better than the other, or if it is merely a change in perspectives and roots.

Magically Mundane Mondays

Here is the start of another week, and the foreshadowing of a busy week to be. Or maybe it’s just because my free is in the mornings on Monday, so I am not actually getting any substantial work done, and the day just feels tremendously long.

There is a utexas due for Friday, and although at least we do not have 40 questions long utexases (what would the plural of utexas be?) anymore, they are getting harder (no more concepts MCs), so they also take quite some time. The lab for bio from last week is now due next week, because there is a part II (yay for growing algae!) upcoming tomorrow and Wednesday. I have 12 CDs worth of a novel to burn through (well, okay, I am not really burning anything because I have nothing to burn on CDs anyway), within the next month or so. Times like these I wish I had a portable CD-player (this has only happened once before, when I wanted a CD-player for the SAT IIs).

But those things are boring. I mean, I have to do them, yes, but that doesn’t make them any more interesting to listen to. So, onwards to the exciting things in life!

Math run-offs tomorrow! As I was telling Gretchen (and Sonny, although I am not sure how much he was paying attention and how much he just didn’t want to run up the stairs and away from us) this morning, I have been waiting for this day for almost a month. Really. Ever since we got our packets. I need to go over some of the coordinate geometry stuff still, but the regular geometry is good, and trig (this month anyway) is also pretty easy.

Also looking forward to seeing who’s going to (most likely) make the A-team roster (for most of the time). Bryant, definitely, and probably Tybalt too. Then there’s Mario (he says he’s going to take the run-offs during some time on his own, although he might presumably drop by—that is, if he goes to school, because I haven’t seen him in class in days). Dino and Tea and Gretchen and Yuma? Are there any more seniors now?

Non-seniors, there’s definitely Argon, although I am not sure about Joss. Micro, yes (he’s pretty much guaranteed for this round unless he flunks). Summer and Cheryl and Reno and the others? Well, we need at least one more person. Might as well be one of them.

Math team speculation is always fun. You know what this reminds me of? Fantasy sports. Maybe we can make a fantasy math team and bet on it?

Other exciting/fun things. Okay, this is in the past tense, but my dad hosted a semi-party yesterday (they called it “lunch,” as the little eight-year-old girl who came over said her mom told her, but as we—Onion and I—aptly remarked, “lunch” with company usually means a meal that spans until 7PM). My dad and some of the others started playing this weird card game that involves +10 points and “fishing for the suits,” whatever that means. So the three of us (Onion, little girl, and me) started playing some card game that I know how to play but have no idea what it’s called, while two other little girls sat/jumped on my bed. Then we went to play “Playing with Fire” on my laptop, then a few Orisinal games (they are the cutest ever), then slime tennis (which I won multiple times because Onion did not know how to serve), then Silversphere.

Then, when the little girls left, we started watching Youtube videos, most notably the Back Dorm Boys, Ultimate Showdown, Hamster Dance, and the Shamwoohoo. Onion then said that Taylor Swift’s music videos are weird (he is basing this off Love Story and the one where Swift plays the girl who’s got a million outfits in her closet and writes on a notepad her messages to her neighbor crush). All I can say is he has never been exposed to the world of weird music videos. Really.

So I showed/dissected-for him Rain’s Love Story for starters (guy in black suit wiggling his butt and having a girl vacuum all over him), then DBSK’s videos (Wrong Number—dipping phone in a glass of wine; O—semi-fantasy world where all five guys go, “Oooh, look at the birdies!” while everyone else vanishes; Triangle—bunch of fantasy fighters dancing and then some angel descends from the sky amongst a crowd in tin-foil hats), then Big Bang’s videos (Lies—girl kills boy-who-she-doesn’t-really-like with pineapple; Haru Haru—guy gets rejected by long-term girlfriend so he goes smashing things and tearing pillows apart).

We then decided we had enough of weird music videos (pity, I haven’t gotten to SHINee’s rainbow prism dance one yet), so we searched up Harry Potter versions of Tik Tok and ended with some quality OceanLab (you can’t beat OceanLab, really).

And when my Youtube minutes ran out on Chrome, we played Crazy Eights. It lasted well over an hour and when his parents finally ended the card game with my dad, we still had not finished. But it was too late (past midnight) so we never got to finish that game. Oh well. I was losing anyway.

Then this morning I thought I had missed the bus, because I woke up two minutes before the bus was supposed to come, but then I realized my clock is five minutes early, so I quickly got dressed and ran out the door, effectively waking up my parents (although I didn’t know that then).

For entertainment purposes, I suggest you go through all of the Youtube videos I’ve suggested (well, maybe not the weird MVs) unless you’ve seen them before. Especially the Back Dorm Boys. The one where they lip-synch to “We Will Rock You.” I’d link, but: a) it’s really hard to miss; and b) if I search it up I’ll get distracted and I won’t get anything done tonight.

All Sentimental

I am in a classroom, that I am sure of. There are rows of wooden desks and chairs—plank-like chairs that wobble and should not be chairs, should be a bookshelf instead, or a makeshift lock for backyard glass doors—and for a moment I think I am in China, because that is where I had seen plank chairs before. But it cannot be, because I see Paperclip people around me, Hank and one of his perverted, awkward teenage boy friends, and there is Dino, and Sonny, and I strain to see my friends, but I cannot find any.

So instead I walk up to Dino, and Sonny (as an afterthought, perhaps), and I say, "Hello."

My vowels are crisp. I say my "hello" with the "eh" and not as "hullo," and it somehow matters. My way of saying things, that is close, but not quite what I want it to be.

I do not remember if Dino says anything back. Sonny does, though. "Hi." Maybe a "how are you doing?" but that would be pushing it, I think. We are not that close.

We talk, the three of us, about things that do not matter, and I am talking just because I want to talk. Because I am running away from what I really should be doing, things that do matter, and I think Sonny senses it, because he asks me, "Should you be doing something?"

"Like what?" I ask, pretending to be coy.

"I don't know."

And this honesty shocks me, this admitting that he only knew a fleeting moment, but not anything substantial. And it makes Dino laugh, his cruel, monotone laugh, and I think that it is this laugh that I have fallen in love with, not his hair, or his eyes, or his back, or whatever else I have proclaimed it to be.

"There is a competition," I say, "French. I won, but I haven't gotten the scholarship yet. Haven't gone to pick it up."

It is a silly thing to hide. Silly me. Silly running away, not facing the truth. I do not know why it was so important that I not go and get what should be mine.

"Well, you should go, then," Sonny says.

I shook my head. "I don't want to," I say, while looking at Dino. I wanted him to be chivalrous, for once, and say, "I'll go with you."

Instead, it is Sonny who says that, while Dino just shrugs and laughs again. Sonny who pulls me into his arms, hugging me so tightly I am reminded of Vincent, remotely, and I hug him back, all calmed down, ready to tackle this apparently difficult task of grabbing for what really, really should be mine.

. . .

Then there are gender-bending moments, and I am a guy, and Sonny—or I think it is still him—is now a girl. We are a little cute, the two of us, together, wandering the halls, and I am not sure we know exactly where it is we are going. There are rooms, yes. Lots of offices. People. I ask for directions, and I get answers, but I forget them immediately and instead I try out every room until I think I have the right one. And then I forget what it is I am asking for, and I try to think of anything French, and I say Le petit prince, although that cannot be the right answer, and I know it even as I say it out loud.

Then my mom is calling me. She is. She says, "Ginny," although of course she does not really say Ginny, but my Chinese nickname instead. I think I responded, but I must have forgotten to, because she calls my name again.

And I wake up, and it is all gone. The hallway, the French, Sonny, the plank-chairs.

I can still feel Sonny's arms around me though, even if I know he is not a hugging kind of person. I cannot imagine Sonny hugging anyone, at least not now, and when he does it will probably be someone who is cheerful, and innocent, and not full of unspoken mysteries and little not-necessary lies. I am a little sad that I will not be able to know what his arms are like, but only a little. Barely there.

. . .

I am reading Anne Enright's The Gathering right now. The story itself has some mad quality to it, some dream-like appearance that is real but not reality. The reality is strange, detached, almost unreal, and the only things that are concrete are the blasphemies that were never real to begin with.

A softening of reality's jarring edges.

I have written before that I do not like reality, because it is too painful, and I do not like pain. I am constantly running away from pain, and maybe this is a wake-up call, that I am a hypocrite, because running away from pain and running toward Dino and his cruel laughs and this dream of golden blue are two very contradicting things. He is he and I am I, and in my dreams, at least, I am—despite my little not-necessary lies—as straightforward and innocent as I ever will be. In my dreams, I am capable of accepting someone who genuinely cares. In my dreams, I am able to stare into Sonny's eyes and not think about Dino, not think about how I wish everything were different.

In my dreams, I am content. And it is not reality, but it is real. Real enough, for me.

. . .

School is starting in over a week. On Wednesday. I still remember the first day of summer vacation, or the first half-day, anyway. I went to arena, got all the classes I wanted, then waited outside the front doors for an hour, talking to the people who came in and out, learning about the different schedules and feeling happy that everything, for me, anyway, worked out.

Then I walked over to the middle school, where I was meeting Argon, and I had taken off my shoes and was twirling in my white skirt, bare-footed, flip-flops on the side, and I felt the cool ground against my soles.

We were talking about math team. Gretchen was there, as was Mario, and Dino. I hated to admit it, but Mario and Dino did most of the introducing, the information-giving, and I thought to myself, "I am not really necessary here."

And then I thought about Matt and Kyle and Trevor, and Elaine, and all of the seniors, and I think, "They are not really necessary, either." They can be here, but if they were never here to begin with I do not think any of us would miss them. I think someone would have replaced them easily, and we would never miss them until we know of their existence. I, for one, do not yearn for someone who does not yet exist. Someone so real in another world, perhaps, he does exist.

Of course, that was exactly two months ago. This will probably be my last post before school starts, and when it does, I will probably go back to what I have been blogging about all along, except perhaps with a lot more college things and a lot less ranting about junior year and research papers, because that is in the past. There will be busy weeks, and not so busy weeks where I am constantly writing things and not doing things, and where words, for once, speak louder than actions.

Somewhere along the way, I know I want to realize dreams. I know I will want to find my way through the tangled half-truths and sticky, snarling pieces of memories, and of course, there is also the farewell, but I do not like to think about that yet. Not yet. It is not time yet. And I should be most familiar with this path, this last year of forlornness and realizing and complicatedness that will invariably snake its way into my decisions and leave me regretting some small thing or another ten years from now, until I do not remember what it was and only remember the regret. But not yet.

. . .

Veronica Hegarty has to—and it is not a whiny, hopefully-will-be but an absolutely-must-be—fall in love with everyone she has sex with. I, in turn, have to fall in love with everyone who loves me. It is as though I have no choice in the matter. Of course, that is not true. I can fall in love with people who do not love me back, who will never love me back. But I absolutely-must-be have to fall in love with anyone who loves me. No exceptions.

This has, I suppose, made me brazen at times. A daring I-don't-give-a-damn-about-you that has propelled me into worlds I am not supposed to trespass, but I have broken far more rules than I care about. I have long ago blurred that fine line between love and affection, because it is impossible to love so many people at once without having to spread myself somewhat, to say "I love you," and make all the gestures, but to be unable to say, "I'll do anything for you," because there are way too many of you and only one of me.

And I am happy. I think I am, and that is all that matters, not whether I am actually happy or not. I think I am happy, and I will be.

As long as Sonny never reads this. That would be difficult to explain.

Hey, you! Yes, you.

A while ago (back in April) I wrote a post promoting equality amongst my equivalent of Gretchie's "imaginary friends." I had twenty people, because that was the most number of labels I could include, and since it's pointless if I mention someone but doesn't include their label, I just chose twenty people.

Today's lucky people are:

• Amanda
• Camel
• Dora
• Gretchen
• Irving
• Joss
• Mario
• Matt
• Melissa
• Micro
• Mogley
• Nyx
• Owen
• Reese
• Sonny
• Stella
• Tamir
• Tybalt
• Vincent
• Yuma

(*Zephy: Sorry! I was also going to include you, but you were the 21st, and therefore did not fit. I will dedicate a new post entirely to you later.)

But before all of this, I would like to say that I have started reading the DMV booklet for my permit test, and it's so far going well. I don't know what kind of test they have though, so we'll have to see. And besides, I suck at memorization.

Also... why, why do they use clock hands for steering wheel positions, instead of diagrams? I like my digital clock just as much as the next person, and the only time I use analog clocks are when I'm trying to figure out how much time I have left in a class, and it's become second-nature to me that I don't even know the hours, just the minutes.

Anyway. Let's commence!

Amanda-Amanda's sent out a FB message to me (along with various other people) asking me if I wanted to join her on a NYC trip sometime in the summer. I do, but I have to okay it first with my parents, so I'm holding on responding just for now.

Camel-I don't think I'll ever have another class with Camel. He's being boring and taking Physics B and Calc AB, and somehow I don't think he's going to take AP Lit or any of my other classes. Doesn't sound like him. We don't really talk outside of communicating with Nyx, so I guess we won't really talk ever again.

Dora-Right! Movies, possibly. I still have to get back to her on that as well. So many things happening this summer! I'm glad that summer's finally here. There's definitely less stress right now, which is good, but I think I'm going to be looking forward for school to start, surprisingly.

Gretchen-Can you believe she's behind Irving, of all people, in my tag-list? I can't. Well, I suppose it's because of all the math team things where I mention Irving because he's usually doing something outrageous (but usually less so to some extent) with Mario. Anyway, Gretchen and I need to land in Japan soon. I'm getting a little air-sick right now.

Irving-Mentioned above, and that I probably won't ever see him again, unless I get into Hahvahd (unlikely) or get into MIT (also unlikely) and he happens to bike by because I can't bike by him since I don't know how to bike.

Joss-He still has spiky hair, even though he cut it shorter earlier. I don't know what else to say of him. Not very exciting right now.

Mario-Oh, Mario. What to say of him? I think he's going to have superiority issues next year in math team. To think that he said of Irving's behavior during Moody's, "I think he had trouble realizing who was the real boss. Next year there won't be a question as to who's in charge." No doubt. It's not him.

Matt-Super skinniness aside, he's leaving as well! I somehow cannot process that, even though I could process Irving and Owen and Melissa leaving. I guess it's because he wasn't away on the senior internships, so I haven't really felt him leave. I'm really going to miss him, even if he doesn't talk much.

Melissa-Ambivalent on her leaving. I think things are going to be a lot quieter without her, which is both good and bad. We won't have her cookies anymore as well, so that could be bad.

Micro-I'm trying to communicate to him in sign language, but neither he nor Sonny understands it, so Yuma and I are having a particularly difficult time.

Mogley-Didn't know he was taking Econ next year. Maybe we'll be in the same class again. He had English scheduling problems earlier, and I told him, "Just get AP English," to which he said, "No way, me?" Our English teacher agreed with his sentiment, and not just because of his horrible grammar (I still can't forgive him for writing lists without commas).

Nyx-Has a super early arena time but has no need for it because of her singletons. I'm slightly envious, but then I remember that no matter who I have they're either not bad or they're unavoidable, so I don't care that much either. And I'll probably have physics with Tea (unless it runs out) so it doesn't concern me very, very much.

Owen-Writing about Owen here reminds me of his alpaca. Also my "choose your own adventure" story. Otherwise he doesn't remind me of anything except that I don't know who's going to keep Dino well-oiled in the next year. We might see an increase in system crashes then.

Reese-I'm talking to Reese on Gchat a lot now. He's using Digsby, which is apparently similar to the device that Tea uses except for PCs. I shall have to try that out soon.

Sonny-He's hilarious, even if he doesn't mean it. He also can't understand sign language or exaggerated waving. Also, I found out how freaky he looked while sunbathing with Scott and the like. A row of guys lying down on the ground in the courtyard just looks weird.

Stella-I don't talk to her nearly as much now. I should. In fact, I will talk to her today as soon as I get this Digsby thing working.

Tamir-Why did I even first mention him? Why do I keep on mentioning him? I don't know. Whatever.

Tybalt-From what I've heard from Kathrya lately, he's exceedingly sweet. This disproves my best friend from back before's theory that all guys are jerks. But then again, I knew that a long time ago. Besides, it doesn't disprove the theory that some guys (ambiguity on how many) are jerks.

Vincent-I need to go over to his house more often if it means more Clue time. I'm addicted to the game. It's unhealthy, I think, both physically and emotionally.

Yuma-I never knew he was so good at go, but then again, Yuma is amazing at a lot of things. We definitely need him on our Moody's team next year. Also, Mrs. MacDonald said that she was looking forward to seeing me (and presumably everyone on our team) next year for Moody's. I think that basically guarantees that, if we don't do something stupid and smoke pot in front of the principal or something like that, we're going to be on a team (if not on a team together) next year.

Whew. Now let's see if anything on my "Noteworthy" list looks better now.

ALERT: Command Chain Broken

Well, it was just Dino wearing a red shirt yesterday. Actually, let me repeat that. Dino was wearing a red shirt yesterday.

That's right. No navy, no navy and white, no navy and brown, no navy and palm trees, no navy and—you get the point. And it wasn't any predominantly navy shirt with a few lines of red text or anything like that. It was full-on red. Red as the bloody mountain sunsets. Red.


If this does not surprise you, let me place it in context by quoting Sonny, who talked to Dino after I pointed out to him that Dino was wearing a red shirt.

"You can't just pull off a red shirt like that! I mean, for the past few years, all you've ever worn were the same three navy shirts in circulation, and then—bam!—yesterday you had a brand new navy shirt, and today, this red shirt! What is going on?!"

Yeah. That was why this had been so, uh, newsworthy. Because all of a sudden, Dino decided to expand his wardrobe or something. With a totally uncharacteristic color such as, dare I repeat it again, red. Mind-blowing.

Also, for some reason, Sonny was the one wearing the navy shirt yesterday. Oh, whatever has this world come down to?

I'll be the gossipy girl and speculate that it's because he went prom-shopping lately, and whilst there, he finally decided that he was going to listen to pretty much everyone around him and buy a few shirts that are not some combination of navy and navy. (Also, I would hate to imagine what would be his color of choice if the Yankees were orange and green and purple instead of their present navy and white.) Or maybe Lauretta inadvertently (or advertently, even if it's not a word) told him that a) she didn't like the color navy, b) she didn't like how he wears the same color every day, and/or c) she liked red better. If she did, then the fashion world is much better off with her presence (not that it wasn't before, I'm sure, but now even more so).

Then, of course, comes the question: why would he choose the color red when he's red-green colorblind? This part is what makes the part c of the Lauretta theory so much more plausible than any other theory out there so far. Or maybe Owen likes red a lot and is now trying to push it upon Dino. Or... Dino needs to wear red to absorb certain waves (that have wavelengths only absorb-able by red shirts) to ensure the proper functioning of some part of his circuit board.

That must be it.

(Totally unrelated, but Dino has a nice back. Very cushion-y but not too soft.)

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.

Not Everything's About ARML (but it can be about waving your arms around)

I walked to my bus stop today (which also reminds me, I need to invest in driver's ed some day, preferably soon) and found Zephy already there, holding two plates of what appeared to be baked goods.

"Hold," she said, pointing to the plate of brownies. "One of them is for you."

"What is this for?"

"Sophomore committee. We're having a bake sale today."

So when we got off the bus later on, we headed straight for the math offices to drop off the food. Halfway down the hall, I saw Micro wandering around, looking lost.

"Hey," he said, waving to me. "We're supposed to be in the math department, right?"

"Yeah. I don't think Tybalt's here though."

I was apparently wrong. Tybalt was already inside when we reached the math offices, and he was looking at our school's performance for last year's AIME. Someone—I believe Irving, although I could be wrong, got four questions right last year, and that was the highest anyone from our school achieved. Micro and I lingered in the back of the room as Tybalt and Mr. Stone discussed something. Then, Mr. Stone grabbed some scrap paper, rulers, and pencils, and led us downstairs to finally start the test.

AIME is three hours long.

At first, Tybalt said, "Oh, the questions at the end are really hard, so we probably won't take three hours."

Well, for mathematical minds as ours that are not as well polished (compared to those who say, "I didn't get a 120+ on the AMC, I failed!" If I got a 120, I would be really surprised at myself), we took three hours to do however many questions we each managed to tackle. In Micro's words, "Not a lot." But I'm apparently not allowed to talk about the difficulty of the test until an undetermined time later (or maybe it's only on the forum, I'm not sure), so I won't say how well I did. I'll just say that all of us took the entire three hour period we had, and that, on a Wednesday morning, was very draining.

We couldn't even talk to other people, unlike Moody's (although Moody's was way longer so I suppose it evens out), so I spent half the time listening to one person or another sniffle.

Anyway, Tybalt left first, then Micro, and I left last as I scrambled to bubble in random answers on my answer sheet so it looks like I did something (and increase the chance of me getting the right answer from 0% to 0.1%).

At lunch, I went to find Tybalt to compare answers. Sonny and Dino, who also sat at the table (so did Bryant, but he was on the other end), clamored to see the test.

"Is this ARML?" Sonny asked. I really have no idea why he thinks everything math and competition-related is automatically ARML. Probably because he only knows ARML through Dino.

"No," Dino said. "AIME." (Also, AIME sounds very confusing when you're saying it to someone who doesn't know what it is, because it sounds like Amy. Reese, among others, have asked, "Who is this Amy person?")

"Oh," Sonny said. Tybalt snatched the test back and proceeded to make myself less confident in my answers. I suppose the reverse could also hold true.

On my way back to my table, I saw Micro (who also has lunch, how surprising). I proceeded to plop down next to him and compare answers with him. Let's just say that we (all three of us) haven't reached a consensus yet.

But I mean, it's us. Paperclip. We haven't yet defeated a Massachusetts school in NEML. What's the chances of all three of us doing superbly well and all making it to USAMO?

(Very little, although Micro may have a chance with USAJMO—depending on his guessing skills.)

Later on, in physics, Mr. Stencil finally came through with his promise of pizza for us because our class scored the highest out of all of Mr. Stencil's classes on this "physics concepts" test we took. However, because it was Passover, half the class couldn't eat it. Tamir, obviously not restrained by such rules, loomed over the boxes of pizza as the class debated whether those who could not eat the pizza should get bonus points instead.

In the end, almost everyone gave in to the temptation (Camel after much consideration and only after seeing the mushroom pizza). Jeremy and Scott left the room to control their urges, but when they came back, Scott said, "You can still smell the pizza." It was too late anyway. All three boxes had been scarfed down already.

After physics (which was after school), I went to get my coat. I saw Yuma on my way there, and so I told him to save a seat for me on the bus. When I got on the bus, it was half-empty (probably because of spring sports), but I sat next to Yuma anyway. He sat next to the window, so when I turned to look at him, I saw Micro on the bus next to ours.

"Hey look," I said. "It's Micro!"

Yuma turned to see. "Oh yeah."

I started waving frantically at Micro, trying to get his attention. He didn't notice me, but Sonny, who sat behind Micro on the bus, saw me and waved back.

Not exactly what I was looking for. I tried to wave in a general front-ward direction, in an attempt to tell Sonny to get Micro's attention. Sonny only stared at me and made weird arm gestures as well. Again. Not exactly what I was looking for.

And to end this (instead of blogging about Easter Island, which I will get to, shortly), I'll post something Chile-related. Make of it what you will.

Ginny

okay

and

tell Owen that his llama is on the way

(hopefully)

17:32Dino

his llama?

17:32Ginny

(if it doesn't get quarantined)

17:32Dino

which Owen?

17:33Ginny

your brother

who else?

17:33Dino

yd u get him a llama?

17:34Ginny

we were going to get a llama for ourselves anyway

Gretchen and I

and he seemed interested

17:34Dino

a stuffed llama?

17:34Ginny

no, one from chile

17:34Dino

a real llama

17:34Ginny

well

real enough

17:35Dino

real enough?

17:35Ginny

sort of like "the things they carried"

17:35Dino

kewl

17:35Ginny

it's summery in chile right now though

so I'm not sure how it'll fare

on the plane

and we also need to find a large enough crate

but those are minor issues

17:36Dino

ur not ACTUALLY getting a llama

17:36Ginny

like I said

"the things they carried"

style

17:37Dino

never read that

17:37Ginny

it's a nice book

and I think it's referenced in the first page

17:39Ginny

also

he's not allergic to llama hair

is he?

17:39Dino

no....

17:40Ginny

okay

good

allergies would pose huge problems

Beware Of The Email Mafia

Earlier this week, I walked with Mogley to see Dr. Cans. Well, it was more like, Mogley had to see Dr. Cans for super complicated chem problems that Mr. Coffee did not even begin teaching us yet, and I tagged along because I had nothing better to do.

It so happened that Dr. Cans was also Paperclip's chess club's advisor. Upon seeing me, he asked, "Do you know what's going on with chess club now?"

Oh, I don't know. Probably something along the lines of Sonny decided to temporary stop chess club, because I told him I couldn't go, since it was on the same weeks I planned to host my hiking club. I never did talk to him afterwards about chess club, and with break and everything, I guess we just forgot all about it.

So I told Dr. Cans that I will ask Sonny, and later on, Sonny told me that he will send out an email regarding club.

On Wednesday night, I received an email from Sonny, titled "Chess Club" and addressed to the chess club email list.

Hi everyone,

Sorry for the short notice, but I thought it was time to have another meeting. Let's meet tomorrow Thursday March 4 after school in room 1234. Hope you can make it. 

I didn't think much about this email, since I had received similar emails before.

Last night, however, someone by the name of Kirk (an alias which probably won't be mentioned again since I don't know him) replied to the email. It was Friday, a day after the planned meeting, and I really did not see the point in replying so late. So, being curious, I opened it and read.

WHY THE HELL WON'T YOU RESPONG AND TELL ME WHO AND WHAT THE HELL THIS IS

Okay.

That was... interesting.

I figured Sonny had made a separate email just for chess club, because he never responded to me before either. But I mean, the title says "Chess Club." I really don't think it can be any clearer than that.

So I ignored the email again, figuring it wasn't important.

This morning, Livny replied to the reply Kirk had sent.

Dear Kirk;

Here is the respong you were asking for: I am Livny Fancylastname, professional boxer and sharpshooter. "This" is the largest drug trade ever to take place on the East Coast.

Because you obviously care very much about this and are already losing sleep (1:48 AM is pretty early), I will let you off with your rude language just this once. If there is another instance of such an outburst I promise you will never wake up again. Watch your tongue.

Sincerely,

Dr. Livny Fancylastname

I am so glad I am a part of this largest drug trade ever to take place on the East Coast, despite only being aware of this deal early this morning. I am sure my queen and rooks can be bartered for large amounts of illegal substances.

I mean, seriously. Who doesn't want a molded piece of plastic?

Canadian Gold

First of all, I have to admit, I have a ranking system of patriotism.

It goes sort of like this:

1. If there is a Chinese team in a given competition, or if the Chinese are somehow related to a given event, I will automatically support them. Unless I personally disliked the people in the team. But usually I do not have such close relationships with them, so for the most part, the Chinese are automatically on the top of my cheering list.

2. If, for whatever reason, there are no Chinese teams, but a Canadian team is present, I will cheer for the Canadian team, regardless of who the other people are. Unless, once again, I personally dislike the Canadian team members or I personally like the other team members, but that usually does not happen either.

3. If #1 and #2 are both not true, and there is a US team, I will cheer for the US team. With the exceptions as mentioned above.

So I suppose it goes without saying that I was cheering on the Canadian hockey team during the last game of the Olympics. I was elated when I saw the winning shot, by Sidney Crosby of all people (which was sort of expected), and that Canada had finally won the most important gold medal of this entire Winter Olympics. I am also glad I have not forgotten the lyrics to "O Canada" yet.

However, that alone would not constitute a blog post, at least not in my blog. Maybe on Sergio's blog. As it happened, because of Canada's hockey gold, two interesting phenomena occurred.

First, as I would like to point out rather obviously, I have a Facebook account. (No, really, anyone who reads this probably already knows, but whatever. I need to mention this to lead to the next part.) And I had such an account back when I was still in Canada, and it is still very much in use. Therefore, half (and I believe, the last time I counted, exactly half, although this might have changed what with Dino and Irving randomly adding me) of my friends on Facebook are Canadian, and half are American.

During the hockey game, some interesting wall posts resulted.

Random Guy: 1-0 Canada . Omg we better win...

Other Random Guy: 2-1 canada lets gooo!!!

Another Random Guy (right before 3rd period ends): NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Some Soph at Our School: holy shit usa!

Other Random Guy: Canada!!!!!!! Crosby!!!! Gold!!!

Melissa (finally, someone with a name): wtf they're not even a real country

Random Girl: OMGGG CROSBYY!!!! Woot! Hahaaa USA=suckers xD

Some Soph at Our School: one of the best games i've seen. good work USA.

Jun: Fuck Yeah CANADA!!!!

(*Jun's post was followed immediately by Irving's comment, "where do u live, again?")

This reminded me dearly of the wonderful experiences I've had in Canada, where there would be people who would deride the American people. I tried to persuade them otherwise, seeing as I have lived in the US before, and the two really are not that different, but alas, I failed.

And came right here to hear people deride Canadians.

Really, they're not all that different. Even in the ways they insult each other, of course tailored slightly to fit the context.

But I figured showing the reactions side by side would be interesting.

(Oh, and, in calc class today, Sonny and Dino asked me whether I had heard of curling. Because, apparently, it's huge in Canada. And when I said I had heard of it--not in Canada, but in the US, actually--he immediately assumed that I knew how to curl. Trust me, I am far better at chess than I am at curling, and to be honest, I have only won one game at chess, and that was because my opponent gave up since the game was taking too long.)

Hockey gold also places Canada with 14 gold medals, which brings up the next interesting piece, namely the number 14. I now firmly believe it is one of my lucky numbers.

To name but a few 14s that were more than nice, there was the 14 I got at NEML, which subsequently resulted in a fancy prize of $12.5 in giftcard money (they gave two for people who scored high enough to get $25 and so forth... which is probably what only math people could have even thought of) and a book filled with math problems.

There was the 14 questions I got right on the AMC.

Chinese New Year's this year was on February 14th. As was Valentine's Day, although I suppose that was not quite the "cheerful" holiday I had been not-so-expecting anyway.

I have 14 lower teeth.

Okay, the last one, albeit true, is totally unrelated. Regardless, those are a lot of 14s in my life, all related to positive things. So my theory on 14 being a lucky number of mine is not entirely untrue. In fact, it is very, very plausible, and perhaps I should host a special event on the 14th of every month as a continuing respect for this holy number.

Or, more beneficial to me and to the people at our school in general, I could use this as an excuse to postpone school starting time until 8:14am, because teachers would be much more miserable if we had to go to school at 7:14am, and the next alternative has to be 8:14am. If we could also get out at 2:14 pm, my life will be complete.

It's just like 11:11, except even better.

(My wishes for 11:11 never happens, anyway. Neither do my birthday wishes, although I suspect that may have something to do with the fact that my cakes do not have candles.)