Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: blog, changes, goodbye, high school, sixteen
Here we are, at the end. I wanted to return to the old haphazard format for the very last post here. I completely forgot today was August 12, and wasted it watching TV. I found a great French learning show on some obscure channel of PBS.
Once it’s staring you in the face, moving on from something is very sad. I know that “this too shall pass” and one day I’ll have forgotten most of this feeling, until the well-timed song is played or a scent hits me.
What can I say to really go out with a bang? I don’t know, except that this year has been almost personally revolutionary. I’m so much more self-assured and content.
Tomorrow I plan to move out of the transition and into…whatever’s next. Sleepless school nights, for sure. Which reminds me that my sister has been accepted into my high school. Sharing a school with a sibling is something I have forgotten for four years. But I’m excited.
I guess this is all I have to say. In the comments you guys could share your favorite post, and we’ll do a bit of what old people and war veterans do best: reminisce. I personally don’t have a favorite post. There are some that were obviously churned out, some I wrote in an emotional state or a ranting state, and that I’d never like to see again. But I wrote it and there’s no taking it down.
I can feel the difference in my personality, and it’s weird, to be honest. I still blush whenever I say something’s cute. I’m okay with hugs now though, so Miya should be happy. But don’t fret, some aspects of girliness will always remain ridiculous. Like twirling your hair in biology. Fatteh.
There are so many highlights of this year, as evidenced by my page in Miya’s yearbook inserts. Some inside jokes are remembered and some slip away. I’m getting a bit too deep here, but the heaviness of that I am leaving this blog, and it will probably waste away, is just hitting me. I don’t want to leave, at this moment. So I keep rambling on. Letters From Katherine is like a stranger still, I’m hesitant to approach.
But I’m keeping my promise. Come tomorrow you will see something up there, the very first post.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Asian parents, blog, gardeners, grades, high school, homework, ideas, independence, internal conflict, jargon, mediums, National Honor Society, novel, peer pressure, Pirates of the Caribbean Dead Man's Chest, pride, procrastination, reputation, resentment, rumors, self-motivation, standards, subtlety, technical, teenagers, Youtube
Sometimes what is discouraging is too much technical jargon. When people start dropping names of various cameras and softwares and telling you you need to have them or else you will fail. Personally, I remind myself that part of the fun is finding other ways, and I power on with my plans.
I’ve changed my Youtube account to director, and I’ve on cloud nine about it ever since. Having it up there makes me want to have something to show for that label, and that I’m not just full of wishful thinking.
I was asked to put down who I thought my work was similar to, and I chose not to answer the question. I believe in subtlety, over many things. The one constant reminder I have for myself when writing is “show not tell”. I know we all learn it in elementary school, but I like letting the reader find things out for themselves. Then again, when I’m trying to emulate Douglas Adams subtlety is of a different kind.
What with final grades just around the river bend, I’m going to gripe about something. I’ve got two overlapping sets of friends. I really don’t want to offend anyone here but one group performs better academically than the other. Please don’t snidely think in your mind about how “academics aren’t everything”, because then you will completely miss my point.
I feel pressured to underperform in class. I never thought those words would come from me. Aside from math class, a B is disappointing. This isn’t coming from my parents, it’s coming from my own expectations. And I’ve never been brainwashed into the idea that only an A is acceptable. My parents have been lenient all my life and because of that I try for myself. It’s a waste of time if I go to school to get mediocre grades and not learn anything. And I know I have the mental ability to get an A.
Which is why it’s irritating when my not-so-academically-high-up friends tell me to suck it up because I should be happy with a B. I’ve got my own standards – and they’re self-driven. I wish they would let me continue griping about B’s. The last chem test, I got a C, and it’s screwed my grade over. I’ll admit that in fact, it’s what they told me about how a B is good enough that made me start to slack off. Whell. It’s my own fault, however, for succumbing to their pressure.
In no way do I mean that anyone is stupid. Reverse prejudice can happen. You hear about it toward white people all the time. I guess the same goes here. Let me keep my standards in peace – I pride myself on them. I’m not enslaved to anyone else’s standards but my own. You can insert your own joke here about saving me from myself.
My own parents always held me up to the “did you try your best” standard. But even if most Asian parents are ridiculous, they must be onto something. Their “A’s only” policy gives you guidance in your confusing youth, a goal that stays clear amidst everything else because someone else is enforcing it. Now if we could only learn to balance that with nonacademics as well. It’s okay to remember that other people sometimes know what’s good for you more than you yourself know. As teenagers, we just have to put our pride away and recognize that. Sometimes as adults too.
Anyway, today was the last day of comps and I finally remember what freedom feels like. Two and a half months of my own schedule – a taste of independence without having to actually support yourself.
Crap. Jocelyn just brought home an “early birthday gift”. Guess what it is.
You’re right, it’s a PotC: DMC poster. I’m not sure what to make of this. It’s really sweet of her, I just have internal conflict with whether or not to put it up or not. And it’s a more complicated conflict than it sounds on paper, so I’m just going to take my time and quietly figure it out for myself.
I’d really like to start working seriously on a novel. I suppose I’m subconsciously looking for ideas. There’s always that struggle between screenplay and novel. Lack of ideas is not something I struggle with – it’s deciding which form I want to turn it into. Even between tweet and poetry, poetry and song.
I love when the gardeners come to my house, but only if I’m in the back room with the windows closed and the shades down. In any other room it’s horrible, like an air raid. I don’t know why the back room makes it any less of an air raid, but there you have it.
There they go again – even in my own house the rumors about my high school float about. Jocelyn just related something her friend said about how her sister doesn’t want to go there because…blah blah blah. I didn’t here the last part because the gardener chose that moment to cut grass close to me. Then my dad agreed with her and did what he always does when it comes to my school- said some things about how it’s not that great.
I don’t know what it is, because it’s not resentment. Not when it’s my own family and none of them have been rejected from the school. I hate that people always try to strip us down, to debunk the myth. It is a great school, more so than being the top-scoring high school in California. Nothing has happened to make me regret going there – they have only given me what I expected, and benefits. Really, it’s a normal high school with accelerated courses. You’re forced to do well, and that’s not a bad thing.
Maybe it’s like a self-defense, to reassure herself that if she doesn’t get in it’s okay. It is okay not to go to my high school, but really. Do you have to bring us down while pushing yourself up?
Here’s where I will debunk my own myth. Our teachers do not all give you too much homework. And I’m sure that not teaching and forcing students to study at home happens at every high school – it’s part of the experience, learning to study on your own. Please, hovering Asian mothers, stop telling these horror stories at your local Asian mother gathering. Give your little naive seventh grader some time and he/she will realize that it’s better than it seems. Also, it will be good for your little scrub to learn self-studying. He can’t have everything handed over on a silver platter.
The debunkment of the myth is this: that we all procrastinate. That’s why we stay up until 4 AM. It’s a nasty habit, and one I’m always trying to cure myself of – but that’s one huge task in itself. This year I did pretty well and for half the year I did go to sleep before 10 PM every night. Not so much now, because my interests lie elsewhere rather than on my schoolwork. Not partying and friends, mind you. I want to leave high school and do things – anything. I’m sure these sentiments are familiar to many older readers – if they exist.
It’s not the amount of homework, at least not yet for me.
Asian mothers everywhere gasp and scream in horror.
Huzzah, I just got the email. I got into the National Honor Society.
Just had some sort of weird idea. What if I left my computer on every day and typed as things happpened. Even if that is what I’m doing now in a way. I think it’d be interesting, to say the least. But we can’t have everything so I’m going to consider it for now.
As for figuring things out, no, I don’t know anything right now. I need time. Suffer through these mediocre posts for now. Thanks. No really, thanks a lot. There’s no sarcasm in that sentence.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: AP testing, elitist, fish, high school, life, puberty, summer
My sister brought home eleven fish from the elementary school carnival and now they’re housed in the fish tank that used to be home to her old goldfish – the ones that slowly wasted away until one day my dad forgot to lower the temperature and their blood vessels exploded.
The new fish are pretty odd. They haven’t got names, except there’s one that always sits in the corner and never eats. What a mellow fellow. Today he finally left the corner. I call them all fatteh, and I love to feed them. What is this, a third grade essay?
AP’s are over, huzzah, now the fun hopefully begins. I’m trying to figure out how to make the most of all my remaining high school summers.
Goodness gracious, my posts have gotten shorter and shorter. I’m too consumed in screenplay ideas and twittering. Apologies, miss. It was not my place. That started out as Barbossa and ended as Elizabeth’s idiot maid.
I could tell you my summer plans, but I’m not sure anyone is interested in those.
It’s interesting to see my sister go through puberty. Not that I’m done with it, but I feel like I’m at least more than half-way through. Huzzah. And yet not, because as annoying as it is puberty is the most emotional time of your life. From here on out life is one great unwatered lawn.
I will now start a new paragraph to draw attention and pause to that great quote-like statement.
Occasionally I feel elitist, and I feel great joy from having tastes. It makes me happy to know that there is a list of favorite movies in my head to draw from, if ever the question is asked, and that I have a preference for children’s programming. I hate elitists, but sometimes I am one myself. Everyone is a hypocrite.
We briefly interrupt these deep musings to ask, “Do you ever have boogers fly involuntarily out of your nose?”
And with that lovely question, I end this painfully written blog.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Claire Danes, college, Colm Wilkinson, Dr. Frank, Drew Barrymore Syndrome, Epiphany, Evita, Gerald Ford, High Flying Adored, high school, Hugh Dancy, Jean Valjean, Johnny Depp, les miserables, liam neeson, life, Michael Ball, middle-age, motivation, mullet, Natasha Richardson, Osbourne, pressure, purpose, sleeping in class, The Parent Trap, Vanessa Redgrave
I’m amazed at high school. It’s the one time in anyone’s life where they are driven by determination, where they have a real purpose in life.
True, that purpose may be not that awesome (read: going to college), but everyone’s so motivated. We stretch ourselves so much I’m surprised we don’t age fifty years in one school year. Or maybe this could just be my school, churner of America’s future Dr. Franks and [insert lawyer here]’s.
Actually, no. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the fact that my high school is kind of sort of supportive of the arts. Maybe I’m not in the wrong place after all.
Today I was walking in the hallways to P.E. and I had this weird epiphany that every single person was working super super hard. No one is just cruising through high school, and if they are, they are screwed. Then a hunched over seventh grader swooped in between me and the door, and I changed my mind.
Everybody but those little children who do not know what is to come. Suckers.
By the time we get to middle-age, how many of us will still have goals beyond buying a purple Porsche (Oh goodness, what a wonderful idea.)? How many of us will just be dragging along until the end? Huzzah. What a happy idea.
This week was killer. I finally know how it feels to fall asleep in class. Well, no, I haven’t reached that accomplishment yet, but I’ve let myself doze off to half-asleepdom once or twice. The truth is, I’m afraid to have some sort of weird Freudian slipup.
When I was little I had a buddy named Osbourne. I wish I still had a buddy named Osbourne, come to think of it, but we moved and he was a guy and by the time we got to first grade things got a little weird. Not scandalous weird, just awkward. In the end our mothers conversed for us.
According to his mom, he would always fall asleep in class, so she had to give him vitamins to stay awake. Or caffeine, but we don’t know that. My mom would boast in typical Asian mother manner, “My daughter never falls asleep in class,” and for fifteen years it has been true.
There’s so much we have to do and I have no idea how I’m going to impress colleges. It’s a ruthless process.
Natasha Richardson’s death is pretty sad. Don’t look at me like I’m an idiot, death is always sad. Except in the case of Gerald Ford. I had no idea he had been living when he died. I was in a state of shock. “Gerald Ford was still alive?” Sorry, Mr. Former President. You had a nice haircut though.
Back to Natasha Richardson. When I was little my dad always talked about “The Parent Trap” lady. And even though he pointed her out to me so many times, I never really knew who she was. Until last year when I watched “Evening”, that odd movie with Claire Danes and Hugh Dancy, two actors who somewhat annoy me. Claire’s got a bit of the Drew Barrymore Syndrome going.
RESIST. RESIST.
Anyways, Natasha Richardson was in it as – surprise, surprise – Vanessa Redgrave’s daughter. Vanessa Redgrave always seems to be really frail in movies, but in random paparazzi shots she seems really strong for her age.
So. I finally understood. I think she was one of my dad’s favorite actresses, because he kept pointing her out. And when I told him he got kind of quiet, in a Little Bobby sort of way.
But I’m sadder for Liam Neeson, because I was more familiar with his work than hers. And at the moment when I opened MSN and saw the news, I had been thinking about Jean Valjean.
Speaking of which, Colm Wilkinson, who plays Valjean in the musical, is pretty odd.
I encourage you all to see his version of “High Flying Adored” from Evita. I trust it will blow your brains out until you have nothing left except that tune, and his “suave” smile staring into your eyes.
Also, Michael Ball needs to shave his mullet. At first I thought it was just some weird interpretation of Marius, but then I saw it in other performances. It’s the way his hair is: a curly mullet. Shave, Michael Ball, shave. You could visit Johnny Depp, if you like, and he’ll gladly do it for you.
In other news? Nothing.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Amsterdam, architectural options, cardboard, correctional facility, genius, high school, Nothing, office, school
Who, thirty-some years ago, decided to construct a school out of cardboard?
Contractor 1: But Sam, a school made of cardboard?
Contractor 2: I know Dennis, but think of all the architectural options!
Thanks to Contractor 2’s “architectural options”, it is now impossible to get lost at my high school. Just keep walking and you’ll most definitely arrive at your original spot. Because, ladies and gentlemen, Whitney is a square smaller than most high school gymnasiums.
Okay, that last point was an exaggeration.
If they had to go the cardboard route, why couldn’t they have made it look pretty? (Although my current tastes make me appreciate the ugly 70’s aesthetic.)
Like these guys from Nothing, a commercial creative agency in Amsterdam. Their office is entirely of cardboard, but they made an effort.
Here’s their creepy ceiling. Wouldn’t want that falling on me during an earthquake drill. You don’t even get food anymore for emergencies in high school. I want my Vienna Sausages!!!
And why can’t we also draw on the walls??? At Nothing, visitors are invited to draw on the cardboard walls, something I’d get detention for, and possibly Dave the custodian running after me with a can of paint.
Everybody’s raving at this feat of creative genius, so how do you think Contractor 2, who is probably retired and appropriately plump, feels at these guys stealing his thunder? He’s probably itching to outdo them, wherever he is.
“Darn them pesky new designers! That’s nothing better than that corrective school I helped to build several decades ago!” Whitney isn’t a corrective facility anymore, unless one considers playing “Badminton: World War Two” something to be corrected.
Psst. The office was designed by Alrik Koudenberg and Joost van Bleiswijk. If you want to learn more about Nothing, go to nothingamsterdam.com
Huzzah.
Picture credits: creativereview.uk (photos by Joachim Baan)
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: beaver, Bicycle, classes, elections, Emma Watson, exercise, high school, life, PE, priorities, scandalous, shave, tragic
I didn’t realize we were choosing classes next week.
I thought everyone was just talking about it because of some phenomenon.
Junior year. It sounds so epic and so intimidating. If old people read this blog, please don’t say “you think you have it bad”. I enjoy life, actually. The only thing that occasionally bothers me are deep conversations with my dad. Like today, when I sought help with my future schedule.
Doesn’t it feel like you as a little kid is an entirely different person than you now?
I mean that physically, because emotionally – that’s obvious. In my mind, I could meet little Grapes any day and be like, “Hey.” Not “Heeeey…” like James the SIA whom Miya loves to imitate. No.
Life is so sad. You don’t have to be sad in life but the whole idea of what people go through is tragic. Now, if we all had time machines to go back to the 80’s and change our bad yearbook pictures, life would be blah. I guess it’s beautiful how life is set up.
I’m a little scared, to be honest. Two more years and we’re on our own. Isn’t that what we’ve been living for, ever since we were born? That light at the end of the evil tunnel that is education…like we’ve been encased in this bubble and once we reach the end it’s going to be free and yet extremely creepy.
It’s like losing your last baby tooth. You know that there’s no going back and these new crooked teeth are the way it’s going to be for the rest of your life. Emma Watson said something several months ago about turning 18. She said that there were no restrictions now and paparazzi were trying to get scandalous pictures of her the minute she became legal. It’s been stuck in my head because I’ve never heard anyone say something like that before.
Anyway, junior year could possibly be the year of bad health and no sleep. It’s the first year of no PE, which seemed so impossible and far off as seventh graders running that first mile, and I’ll probably get really fat. Working out is a glamorous idea but no one actually accomplishes it.
I’m really excited about contemporary media.
So many things I never thought I would get to and then whoosh, here I am about to do them.
Although, when I first got to Whitney I wanted to do anything and everything. I’m not saying I ran for president so many times just to be president, I actually cared, but I realized that it probably wasn’t meant to be or something. I’m actually glad now, because I can focus on things that matters in terms of hopefully my future career.
Now I’ve got my priorities straight and it feels like life is clearer has a purpose. Is this the greatest epiphany so far in my life? Well then, eureka.
Haha I made it through half of high school, and I’m still somewhat okay. Huzzah.
Scandalous!
Sushi's future.
Maybe not.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry, Bleeding Love, bubble, deep, drama, fail, fanvideo, generation, girl power, guy problems, high school, Johnny Depp, nightmare, rant, religion, Sweeney Todd, Sweeney Todd London Press Conference
I’m not going to say anything because it would just be grudge-ful.
But for posterity, I hated girl power today. I sort of hated my generation in general today too. Now it’s mellowed out to a “whyyyy?”
I can only speak for the girls for obvious – or not so obvious – reasons. I get the feeling that in today’s argument some of things we said were only for the sake of arguing, because they were so generic. It annoys me when girls defend each other. It’s a great thing, but the way we do it is so grating. And we think we’re doing people a favor, no, we just look ridiculous.
Maybe I’m just weird, but I don’t bother with these things anymore. I haven’t been involved in any drama since 8th grade. I’ve realized that it’s pointless and while sometimes fun, it just makes you all stressed out. What does this do for you? Or to progress your life? I’m sort of waiting for most of the other people in our class to grow up. I have been so much happier in general since I stopped bothering with friend problems and guy problems. I think mainly because of who my friends are, though, these problems don’t really exist. And even if one of us is being poopy, it’s not like we’ll exact revenge. Although I’m worried Sushi might one day. We all know it was the reason we were nice to that guy who left for Gahr (not naming names – stealthy)
Seriously, I’m so lucky to have my friends. It’s like a bubble within a bubble, a, excuse my AP Human terminology, permeable border. If that’s the wrong term, I don’t know what you should do to me. Even though we’re in a bubble, thanks to modern technology known as the Internet we know a bunch of crappish stuff that no one else does, mainly about entertainment…weight loss…umm…and Johnny Depp. Because of the amount of knowledge we have, Johnny Depp gets his own category. Not because he’s the first thing that popped into my mind when I was trying to come up with a third category. Anyways, all you have to do is picture our attempt at a normal high school girl talk and FAIL will bombard you until you land in a pile of mush and kumquat seeds.
What’s with all the deep angry rants? You may now name a religion after me based on my beliefs. Blasphemous!
Dear God, I was just kidding.
Some parts of my fanvideo died. It just says “invalid” in big ugly letters in those parts. Like I’m a leper or something. Good thing I remember the clips from watching them so much. This is probably why people don’t use Internet movie editors.
For English homework I bluntly referenced “Sweeney Todd”. I sound like a freak because I wrote “at the ‘Sweeney Todd’ press conference in London last year” and why would I know that?
My ipod started playing “Bleeding Love” and I thought I had entered into a live nightmare.
I still want cake.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: acne, blog, cockroach, dance class, edward, extracurriculurs, Faculty Follies, fail, film festival, food, funny, grapes, hero, high school, humanitarian, internship, Macbeth, martyr, math, murder, post, sleepy, smart, students, stupid, Sushi, Taiwanese Film Festival, taxi, Twilight, Whitney
“I haven’t posted in a while.” I hate when people say that in their returning post. I’ve just said it, so flog me now…
Actually, don’t. ‘Twould be painful.
Today there was a cockroach in dance class and Marivel freaking just picked it up. It was huge. And Sushi just ran around going, “Don’t kill it!” Now Marivel’s her hero. But Sushi wouldn’t pick up the cockroach either. What kind of martyr would she be?!
Why is Sushi so funny? She just is, she doesn’t do anything to be funny. Actually when she tries it’s kind of fail. Which in turn makes it funny.
I’m going to the Taiwanese Film Festival tomorrow. Huzzah for my first film fest ever. I hope it’ll be fun. At least my internship is paying for my food.
Sometimes I worry I don’t have enough extracurriculurs. Then I worry that I am stupid because who am I going to compare myself to? All the other smart people at Whitney? I wish I knew what most other high school students did to see if I’m just fail at Whitney or fail everywhere.
Our school keeps getting worse and worse, it seems. We’re still really good, but it seems each year the students get less smart and I doubt we are as good as we were before. Oxford is catching up, and they’re the imposters. How can the imposters beat the original? Anyway, someone told me it was because the district started picking the students for us. They have to be fair, so the smartest from each school gets in. That means some of the smart people don’t get in.
Yes, it’s more fair but do you know the consequences of this? Every year our grades go down, and some smart kids who don’t make it in start thinking their dumb. The good students from an okay school aren’t necessarily better than the bad kids at a better school. What I mean is that the top three from one school could be worse than the top ten at another school. And if we are supposed to take in the kids with potential, shouldn’t we take in the smartest of the total?
Why do I get so sleepy in math? It’s like the moment I walk in I’m sleepy. But I never fall asleep, my conscience doesn’t let me. Like Macbeth. Not that I killed anyone…
And it sucks because I want to pay attention but I just don’t get it. And Ms. Breik’s voice droning on makes me want to sleep.
Today was also Faculty Follies. Twas not so great as the ones in the past but there were still funny moments. When they were playing taxi and they said “OMG I haven’t seen Twilight yet” I said, “I’m right here.” And when they were looking for a crisis for the improv Miya said, “Grapes.” And we all laughed and disturbed the acne-happy people next to us. Huzzah!
