Quote of the day:
Timmy- "You're so happy it makes me sick. Sometimes you're so happy it, like, makes me want to kill something." Referring to me. Thanks, best friend!
Other quote of the day:
" 'When you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love,' I didn't think that this was true, my seventeen years of experience had shown this to be much more false than true, but it was like every other thought and belief of Finny's: it should have been true."- A Separate Peace
Hello!
So Finny is becoming kind of strange in A Separate Peace. He refuses to believe that the war is even occuring. Hmm, I don't know Finny; I kind of liked you better before you turned bitter and delusional. Don't worry, though, I still love you.
Well, the Fine Arts Supplement for my application, (all of which is due on Monday... yikes) is coming along, though not as well as I had hoped.
I finished two monologues, Lady Macbeth and the Wicked Witch of the West, the next monologue I'm performing is a little longer than the other ones. I tried to video tape it tonight, but I kept fumbling over a word, or pausing for too long, or just making some obnoxious and sucky mistake. However, if I'm going to let Timmy edit the video I need to have everything worked out before the football game tomorrow. This means, Timmy and I will be doing a lot of work during our free period tomorrow. I know my lines, I just haven't practiced enought.
I think I'm crazy sending this video in. So many people have probably taken months to prepare their selections and practice. But, like every other decision I make, my choice to even submit the Fine Arts Supplement, was rash. I didn't even think over applying early decision. I have a, "Sure, why not?" attitude about too many things. I need to give myself time to weigh all of the pros and cons instead of thinking, 'Eh, what's the worst that can happen?' and plunging headlong into a decision. Sure, I see how my attitude may have some pros, but, honestly, I cause myself so much stress.
So here goes nothing...
Also, I've been working for Mr. Cooper while Shannon is gone. All I do is vacuum the halls and admire the portraits on the walls of the elementary hallway. Why don't we get pretty murals painted in our building? Seriously, no one is too mature for paintings of ice cream and manatees. There is one mural with these lamp posts that remidns me of Narnia... If only...
I have such a freakin busy weekend.
Tomorrow: school, football game
Sat.: Alzheimer's walk; scary movie night at Viv's
Sun: Church; senior pictures
And somewhere in there I need to wrap up the financial aid part of my application and figure out how to send an SAT subject test score report ANNDD try to get caught up with my online classes, one of which I am already behind by 4 weeks!! BLARG!
Maybe some day when my life is less like marathon through hell, I'll actually have time to develop a coherent thought to expound upon in this blog. Until then:
QUESTION OF THE DAY!
Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?
No.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Sore throats and literature
Tonight, while doing English homework, I realized something strange about myself. I sympathize more with Shakespeare’s character Macbeth than I do with Gene from A Separate Peace.
Macbeth, is a cruel murderous tyrant, and Gene is just a confused sixteen year old school boy. However, while reading Macbeth, I find myself pitying Macbeth, and even feeling sad when he finally does die. But now reading A Separate Peace (I’m only on chapter 7) I find myself loathing Gene.
I mean, Gene’s friend Finny seems pretty legit. He genuinely loves people, and tells Gene straight up that he is his best friend. But Gene is just consumed by this sickening jealousy and hatred of Finny. Friendship is one of the most beautiful gifts we have, but Gene is just “saving face” to Finny because he is intimidated by Finny’s apparent perfection. While Finny is so honest to Gene!! Arg, it makes me mad!
And, yes, I realize that Macbeth is evil, but he started out so noble. If someone like that can become corrupted so easily, aren’t we all in danger? So, yes, despite the cold-blooded murders I still find this character redeemable. He learns his lesson at the end, doesn’t he? “And all our yesteryears have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow.” The power that he so yearned for proved to be empty and brought him only death.
Anyways, now that we are over the mawkish gooeyness of the wonders of literature, I went to the doctor’s for my throat today!
I have giant tonsils, and my doctor wants my dad to listen to me while I sleep in case my tonsils prevent me from breathing!
I’m sorry; that’s just weird.
I’ve had big tonsils, and I haven’t stopped breathing yet! I love my doctor, though. She is AMAZING!
I also got a weird nose spray and amoxicillin, because I might have strep.
Dartmouth app due in: 5 more days (You hear that thud? That was me. Falling over dead.)
RANDOM QUESTION OF THE DAY!
1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
Whatever. I’m unpredictable like that.
Macbeth, is a cruel murderous tyrant, and Gene is just a confused sixteen year old school boy. However, while reading Macbeth, I find myself pitying Macbeth, and even feeling sad when he finally does die. But now reading A Separate Peace (I’m only on chapter 7) I find myself loathing Gene.
I mean, Gene’s friend Finny seems pretty legit. He genuinely loves people, and tells Gene straight up that he is his best friend. But Gene is just consumed by this sickening jealousy and hatred of Finny. Friendship is one of the most beautiful gifts we have, but Gene is just “saving face” to Finny because he is intimidated by Finny’s apparent perfection. While Finny is so honest to Gene!! Arg, it makes me mad!
And, yes, I realize that Macbeth is evil, but he started out so noble. If someone like that can become corrupted so easily, aren’t we all in danger? So, yes, despite the cold-blooded murders I still find this character redeemable. He learns his lesson at the end, doesn’t he? “And all our yesteryears have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow.” The power that he so yearned for proved to be empty and brought him only death.
Anyways, now that we are over the mawkish gooeyness of the wonders of literature, I went to the doctor’s for my throat today!
I have giant tonsils, and my doctor wants my dad to listen to me while I sleep in case my tonsils prevent me from breathing!
I’m sorry; that’s just weird.
I’ve had big tonsils, and I haven’t stopped breathing yet! I love my doctor, though. She is AMAZING!
I also got a weird nose spray and amoxicillin, because I might have strep.
Dartmouth app due in: 5 more days (You hear that thud? That was me. Falling over dead.)
RANDOM QUESTION OF THE DAY!
1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
Whatever. I’m unpredictable like that.
Monday, October 25, 2010
I stayed home from school today on account of my sore throat and swollen tonsils, even though my throat has been just as sore and my tonsils have been just as swollen the past ten days. Oh well, I'm taking care of myself now :P. I have a doctor appointment tomorrow afternoon, where hopefully I will get the antibiotics so my sore throat will go away.
I had a dream last night about my grandma and grandpa. My grandma was alive, but still sick. I hate those dreams, I still have them about my mom too. I always wake up thinking she is alive, then realize, that she's not. My grandma died exactly a week ago 12:00 a.m. today. Maybe that's exactly what time I had my dream?
It's so easy to hide from my grandma's death. I only used to see her every couple of months, so I can still pretend she is alive. I don't have any pictures of her lying around.. The only things I have to remind me of her are the pile of old books that belonged to her, that my grandpa gave me, and that stupid broken door hanger from Africa. I would let that stupid thing get broken. I hate myself. I'm so careless.
I miss my grandma a lot.Now that I'm actually thinking about it, facing her death. My dad said something to me about her obituary being online. It wasn't until he said that to me today that I realized that she's actually gone.
I want her back.
There is absolutely no one in the world like my grandma. Such an amazing story teller. Always so sure about herself. She could laugh at anything. She had such a beautiful mind. Such quick, imaginative thoughts. She loved beauty, art, and culture, and poetry, and literature. That's something my grandma and I shared together our deep love for literature.
So she really is actually gone.
In my dream, my grandma was standing and walking but she seemed very small and thin. She was still dying. My grandpa wore a grim smile. He was sad but resolute. Just like he was in real life, but happier. In real life, when she was lying in the hospital bed, I refused to believe she would die. I kept her mouth moist and her skin moisturized, knowing that inside of this dying body, lay a beautiful, strong soul that I love, thinking she would emerge any second. In the end, my grandma wanted to die. She was done fighting. She saw herself as old and ready to die. She said she had lived her life. How could my grandma want to be dead??? How could she want to leave all of us behind??
In the dream my grandpa and I recited Shakespeare together:
"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time. Out, out brief candle
Life's but a walk shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot. Full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."
In other news, I have to memorize more of Macbeth and recite it for the DVD I'm sending to Dartmouth, if I even get the DVD finished in time. And, honestly, I don't even care if I do.
I had a dream last night about my grandma and grandpa. My grandma was alive, but still sick. I hate those dreams, I still have them about my mom too. I always wake up thinking she is alive, then realize, that she's not. My grandma died exactly a week ago 12:00 a.m. today. Maybe that's exactly what time I had my dream?
It's so easy to hide from my grandma's death. I only used to see her every couple of months, so I can still pretend she is alive. I don't have any pictures of her lying around.. The only things I have to remind me of her are the pile of old books that belonged to her, that my grandpa gave me, and that stupid broken door hanger from Africa. I would let that stupid thing get broken. I hate myself. I'm so careless.
I miss my grandma a lot.Now that I'm actually thinking about it, facing her death. My dad said something to me about her obituary being online. It wasn't until he said that to me today that I realized that she's actually gone.
I want her back.
There is absolutely no one in the world like my grandma. Such an amazing story teller. Always so sure about herself. She could laugh at anything. She had such a beautiful mind. Such quick, imaginative thoughts. She loved beauty, art, and culture, and poetry, and literature. That's something my grandma and I shared together our deep love for literature.
So she really is actually gone.
In my dream, my grandma was standing and walking but she seemed very small and thin. She was still dying. My grandpa wore a grim smile. He was sad but resolute. Just like he was in real life, but happier. In real life, when she was lying in the hospital bed, I refused to believe she would die. I kept her mouth moist and her skin moisturized, knowing that inside of this dying body, lay a beautiful, strong soul that I love, thinking she would emerge any second. In the end, my grandma wanted to die. She was done fighting. She saw herself as old and ready to die. She said she had lived her life. How could my grandma want to be dead??? How could she want to leave all of us behind??
In the dream my grandpa and I recited Shakespeare together:
"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time. Out, out brief candle
Life's but a walk shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot. Full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."
In other news, I have to memorize more of Macbeth and recite it for the DVD I'm sending to Dartmouth, if I even get the DVD finished in time. And, honestly, I don't even care if I do.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
I am super, super, super, super bored.
SOOO MUCH FREAKING HOMEWORK
My mind is slowly decaying into a mound of derivitives.
Not that I mind derivatives (I do mind the spelling, because obviously I have no idea how to spell the word). It's just doing about 50 problems involoving derivytives = death.
Now, that I have conquered d3r3vuhtivs, I need to go do AP Gov stuff.
Yuck.
In other news, I have had swollen tonsils and a sore throat for 10 days. According to my dad, I'm sick because I haven't taken care of myself.....
.........
........
How did he suggest I take better care of myself?
Gargle with salt water.
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
SOOO MUCH FREAKING HOMEWORK
My mind is slowly decaying into a mound of derivitives.
Not that I mind derivatives (I do mind the spelling, because obviously I have no idea how to spell the word). It's just doing about 50 problems involoving derivytives = death.
Now, that I have conquered d3r3vuhtivs, I need to go do AP Gov stuff.
Yuck.
In other news, I have had swollen tonsils and a sore throat for 10 days. According to my dad, I'm sick because I haven't taken care of myself.....
.........
........
How did he suggest I take better care of myself?
Gargle with salt water.
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
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