If I could choose anything to do for the rest of my life, without a drop of hesitation in my being, I would choose to perform. There's something about opening myself up to a crowd of people that don't know me by showing my most vulnerable state that keeps me going and hoping for the next opportunity to be on stage. I live for the stress of rehearsals, the angst of last minute unpreparedness; the late nights that make me cry from lack of confidence, the voice lessons that help me grow, and the nights spent on stage in front of a full house with all eyes on me. I'm so lucky to be surrounded by people who support me in my musical choices and successes. It's because of these kind of people that I have my confidence and drive.

Anything and everything that has happened to me these past two years have helped shape me into a better person. Whether I'll be in Concert Choir next year or not, I can contently say that I am happy with where I am vocally right now, and that I can't wait to see what my future holds.

My dream as of now is to pursue music in college. One of these days I'll actually start uploading videos to YouTube (insert advertisement to come watch me at some given point in time when I actually have time HERE) and I'll be the next JB. I have an internal drive that will help me get anywhere I want in life.

Oh, and I can now say with full confidence that I can belt. My friend that has argued with me for the past year over this saw me at Mr. Wayzata and admitted to knowing that I can belt. HELL YES. My next hurtle is to show people that I can sing a flutey soprano without vibrato. Easy as pie.

List of singing goals from the past two years:
Get over my fear of singing in front of a crowd.
Make Madrigals
Make a WHS production
Make Concert Choir
Win a singing competition
Make Vive Voce
Go on American Idol (lolz, not gonna happen anymore.)
Prove I can sing like a man
Prove I can sing high
Prove I can belt
Prove I can sing soprano 1 without vibrato
Sing as a soprano in a choir (Thanks, Mrs. O'neill!)
Make a YouTube Channel
Be a lead in a musical (JASMINE ANYONE? Or I'd take anything that involves an attractive     lead male.)

Sanity, And Keeping It

I wrote this blog to keep my sanity, and I intend to keep writing on this blog to keep my sanity.

You know how I said (way) earlier that I didn't see why people said junior year was so great? I see it now. And now it's half way over and I'm starting to feeling a smidge nostalgic over my classes (AP Comp and American Literature) and my cult.

I've honestly gotten so lucky with my teachers this year. I was able to have to fantastic communication teachers, both so different, but care equally about their students. Mrs. Cardona with her extreme sass and amazing style who isn't afraid to put it all out there; Mr. Johnston, who openly cries in front of his students, and purposely makes his students say deep and depressing things that make us cry in the end. Two fantastic teachers. Two phenomenal classes. Both gone.

Angst.
Nostalgia.
Depression.

SOML (Story Of My Life).

Ashley
Cardona and why she is a writing god (1-10)
Arguments
Argument, everything being one (21)
Argument, Visual (24)
Argument, difference versus claim (22)
Argument, Arisotle's theory (21)
Argument, Toulman theory (23)
B
First (25, 26, 27)
Bitzer
Eulogy of man who died at the hands of angsty AP students (18-20)
Bitzer's exigence (18)
Blog
Blog that you were supposed to find first week of class, but didn't (11)
Blog project that is stressing you out (12-13)
Blog posts, and how to use voice in them (14)
Yeah, Write (11)
Let It Be (14)
Mimicking Cardona's sarcasm, except not as well (14)
Stalking blogs of people you don't really know (11)
House*Tweaking, and it's awesomeness (11)
Boys
Don't like boys in your class
Stop being confrontational to unconfrontational people
Or worse, confrontational people
Sarcasm is good with males

Color
Color pallates and effectiveness
Colors, and their meanings
Comic Sans
Don't use this font unless you want to die
Or unless you're five
Or unless you want to fail
Or unless your visually impaired and don't know the difference between fonts
Or unless you have no taste in life
Essays
Being graded on the Harvard Scale
No more automatic A's on papers
Putting voice into your writing
Essays, 50: An Anthology
Grading takes a long time
Accepting that a C is average
Short, sweet, and to the point
Audience, form, purpose
Essays, Visual
A Modest Proposal, the best essay you have read this entire semester
Failing
Over 10 quizzes
Finals
More quizzes
It's okay sometimes
GPA bomb-ing-ness-shmeh
Figurative Language
Metaphors
Similies
Imagery
Sensory
Irony, something that you can never decifer no matter how hard you've tried
Juxtaposition, also something that you will never fully understand
Friends in AP comp
Cult, which is my life
Ya win some, ya lose some.
Goals
Get Mrs. Cardona as a teacher (accomplished this in August YAY)
Get an A (lawlz, not gonna happen)
Have Cardona like me (Check? Eh?)
Ace a reading quiz
Become a better writer
Learn tools for college essays
Learn vocab that will help on SAT/ACT
Not die in the process of all these goals
Horatian satire
Ignominy
Orwell
Why he writes
Orwellian (nominalization, yo)
Archaic idioms, almost, if not just as bad, as Comic Sans
Orwell --> Didion --> Why I Write blog post --> Literacy Narrative --> Fail (see section above)
Purpose
Of taking this class
Of all writing pieces
Of life
Of falling for someone
^ And getting over someone
Of high school
Of 10th grade communications (no purpose).
PETA
Advertisements
Anti-meat-eating-ness-shmeh
Power of images
Rhetoric
Basically the purpose of this class
Rhetorical Analysis
Rhetorical Essay
Rhetorical Situation
Rhetoric (exigence)
Bitzer (see above)
Something that you (also) never understood, and still don't, which is bad, because that is what this class is about, and therefore you have failed. Awesome.
Stamina
To endure this class
To stand (insert name here) every day
To keep pushing through (see 'to endure this class')
Studying
Session at Lunds that didn't actually end up having much studying
But I had a delicious lunch
And tried sparkling water.
It's nasty.
Vocabulary
Cult working together
Failed final
Quizzes
Zuegma
A fricken awesome word

PAGE NUMBERS ARE STUPID.

You Wanna Be An Outlier?

So. Pretend Tyra is whispering the America's Next Top Model slogan, "You wanna be on TOP?" and then go back and reread my title. It made you smile, didn't it? Good.

Who's Jamaican and has an awesome Jamaican-man-fro?

<-- That guy. Oh, and he also wrote a book called Outliers.

Books are good.
Malcolm Gladwell wrote a book.
Therefore, Malcolm Gladwell's book is good.

Outliers is a nonfiction novel describing various factors that contribute to making specific individuals successful. Gladwell's organizes his theories very clearly by seperating each idea into seperate chapters. He uses a different anecdote in each chapter, which makes his writing a) much more interesting, since otherwise his words are all facts, b) so much easier to understand, and c) a quick read that has its many moments of suspense. Gladwell makes sure to back up each of his theories by citing experts throughout the novel who defend Gladwell.

Outliers, albeit written more formally and academic-ey, has its humour to it. Gladwell frequently has footnotes relating to his theories. And these footnotes are awesome. They can be snarky, polite, humourous, interesting, mind-boggling, etc. When reading each chapter, you will be hoping that there are footnotes. (There are a ton, so don't worry: you'll never be disappointed.)

Read this book.
It's good.
And everyone knows about it.
Don't be that one person who hasn't read it.
Read it with your cult group of friends.
Cults friends are fun.

Don't click to look inside. There's nothing there.

Yay for Futures

*Holy shat what is going on with this formatting? Shmeh.*

Hello, famous (insert age that you get discovered off of YouTube here) me!

Congratulations on your insane success! I told you that making a YouTube channel with your best friend singing pop songs was a good idea! We all know that it was a Demi Lovato song that got you discovered though, as good as Selena, Beyonce, Kitty Purry, or Gaga is. How is touring going? How are the letters from fans sounding? Have you finally learned to belt? (Or, have you finally learned to accept that you are NOT a belter?) How about the acting? Did Zubaida Ula in Laramie make you an even more successful actress? (It's okay, you can say no. We're not THAT good at acting.)

I hope you're not one of those obnoxious starlets who lives in a 45 million dollar house in Beverly Hills next to the Hollywood sign. That's a waste of money. You can move to Coronado and live in paradise instead. And while you're in LA, you can rent a cute little house in a private neighborhood. You're not special enough to need all that privacy.

Also, don't get a big head. You obviously don't have the best voice out there. So stop thinking that. I know you're thinking that. Have you stopped? You better have stopped. STOP IT. Good.

Also also, don't date someone famous and then marry them and then divorce them in 72 days. That's stupid. Maybe more stupid than having a 45 million dollar house.

Don't forget to work out a lot. You can't forget your morbid fear of being obese. Or your scarring childhood of being a depressingly tubby person.

Hope all is going well. Buy pretty (but not too expensive of) dresses to wear to the Grammys. And the Teen Choice Awards. Oh, and the VMAs and MCAs. OH, and the Tony's. Those are all fabulous events, and your yoga pant/legging pants that aren't really pants/$5 tshirts from Gap/long cardigans/leg warmers/boots/no make up style will not suffice for these events. I hope you've realized that buy now.

Last thing: have you been on Glee yet? If not, you should get on that. And when you meet Darren Chris, make sure to set him up with Carly. She'll appreciate that. Yep.

Lots of love, you.
Me. (You, but actually me.)

We're Off to See the Animals, the Animals in the Slaughterhouse!

    *Disclaimer: READ THIS*  So, I just want to start out by saying that my topic choice doesn't reflect my own life choices. Yes, I chose the topic of, "You should be a vegetarian or a vegan because eating meat is morally wrong." And yes, I am a vegetarian. But no, this is not why I am a vegetarian. Just wanted to throw that out there before people come mauling me screaming "MEAT IS YUMMY. YUMMY IN MY TUMMY. I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THIS PICTURES FROM SOMEONE WHO EATS LIKE A GOAT." (Yes, I actually have gotten the goat comment from someone before.)
     My topic choice argued for *insert drum roll here* promoting both vegetarianism and veganism because the eating meat is morally wrong. (I repeated this in case you didn't actually read my disclaimer. But I used all the special effects and even made it red, so why wouldn't you have read it?) Even though I cannot relate 150% to this topic, I chose to do it because 1) I can handle looking at pictures of dead animals, 2) Because I really do love being a vegetarian, and 3) It was easy to find evidence for.
     I realize that there are a few warrants that need to be addressed. My slideshow probably makes it seem that all animals are murdered mercilessly, and that they all are treated badly. This is probably not true, but the presentation wouldn't be as impacting if I showed pretty pictures of slaughterhouses. Another warrant that the show makes is that eating any and all meat is bad for you. (I get this defense from meat eaters all the time. I realize that it is partially true. Partially.)
     My audience for this work of art are my peers, who chomp and om-nom-nom on formally living animals every day at school during lunch. (Burger line, turkey with gravy, chicken poppers, hot dogs, etc.) I'm not saying that you should cut out meat cold turkey, (get my pun?) but maybe reconsider feasting on it every day at every meal.
     The pictures I chose all serve a specific reason, some more than others. When searching for images, I made the decision to look for animals that we most commonly eat (e.g., chicken, pig, cow). My idea for the picture sequence was to have a pattern of (excuse my bluntness,) "before" and "after" of these animals. For example, my first image is an extremely adorable baby chick. The next picture is of dead chickens hanging by their feet in a slaughterhouse with blood dripping down their feathers. I specifically chose this "after" picture of the chickens because of the blood. I wanted to create an impact with the audience, and I thought that this picture did justice.
     I followed this same process with my other animals, such as a pig. This before picture might be one of the cutest pictures ever. It really exemplifies the innocence and adorable-ness of a piglet, who has the doomed fate of being murdered and chopped to salami shreds. The picture following it is one of numerous pigs (once again) hanging by their feet, and their hands/feet are chopped off. Just like the chicken example, I thought that this pair of pig pictures showed a good example of how an innocent creature goes from living its life to ending up in a slaughterhouse.
     My last pair was of a cow. When searching for a "before" picture for this creature, I purposely looked for a picture of a cow with its child. I did this to show that animals, just like humans, love and care for their family, and they should not unjustly be taken away from that family to satisfy our taste buds.
     I sprinkled these pairs of animal pictures with cartoons and ads advocating for not eating meat. I put them between the animal pictures so that the audience would not get bored of the same pattern, thus taking away from the impact of the pictures. Of these pictures that I chose, my favorites are the PETA ad that said "Meat belongs in the morgue, not on your table," the image that says, "VEGAN: because my body isn't a graveyard," and the last image in the slideshow, which is another PETA ad that shows a dead human body in meat packaging. I feel that these three images will really resonate with the audience, because it puts the act of eating meat in a new perspective. When people talk about eating meat, no one ever thinks that their body becomes a graveyard; no one thinks about what it would be like to be eaten by another person. But these pictures bring up that topic, and I think it will leave the viewers thinking differently.
     These ads and cartoons that I put in the show all have the "spotlight" feature on them. I chose to do this because I think they deserve more attention on them than just regular wordless images. The viewer will need more time to read what the ads have to say, and the more time they have, the better the impact the pictures can have on them.
     When I think of my pictures, my pattern reminds me more of a wave than a climacting order or any other patter. I'm really repeating the same argument with different examples. I have three examples of animals who die at the hands of humans. My ads might all have different examples and texts, but they are all arguing for the same repeated cause of not eating meat.
     OK. Can we all acknowledge how phenomenal my song is?(!) It's so great. It makes my project 20397523985724398x better. Let me just show you the lyrics that are in this song:

Heifer whines could be human cries
Closer comes the screaming knife
This beautiful creature must die
This beautiful creature must die
A death for no reason
And death for no reason is MURDER

And the flesh you so fancifully fry
Is not succulent, tasty or kind
It's death for no reason
And death for no reason is MURDER

     Like, honestly? It fits my argument perfectly. The song is following the same claim that murdering and eating meat is morally wrong. Not that it's a very pretty song lyrically, but I love it. So much. 

     I ordered my pictures after I found this song. I put a few of the pictures in their place purposely in order to appear at a certain part of the song. Such as the "before" picture of the cow and its calf. That picture comes in at the line, "This beautiful creature must die." I placed it at that timing to reiterate even more the innocence and human-like qualities of the animals. Another example would be my last image of the human in meat packaging. This picture comes in at the word "MURDER." I think this is the most impacting picture that I have, and I also think the placement of is is fantastic, because it puts the idea of humans being murdered and eaten even more vividly into the viewer's mind. 

     The song uses vocals along with many instruments, such as guitar and drums. Personally, I feel like this song is really hectic. I think that the Smiths (the artists of the song,) purposely did this to show the hecticness that the animals feel as they are going through the slaughterhouse. Lord knows what's going through those creatures' minds when their appearing at their death.

     I honestly don't think I would change my song. It emulates my argument perfectly, and it's also catchy. Actually, it's extremely catchy, in a messed up way.

   

SOURCES:
http://environment.randolphblogs.net/files/2009/06/3463179131_76432a3324-chick.jpg
http://www.organicgreenandnatural.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/dead-chickens.jpg
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kb9hz-cZm_Zdubq2GdacGbpOrqsH1lPWnL983vXczwLkiowz-yHjKG7kvBdXJkXmfrw6M6H2IHQpwthyphenhyphen_UtiFl10YEjNqEJ_UoMsd-whBESRBsTTGubCLqnxQUGwfxw4qJeXITWGaglw/s1600/Alicia+Mayer-+Morgue+CENSORED-+300.jpg
http://1funny.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/piglet.jpg
http://wwwdelivery.superstock.com/WI/223/1606/PreviewComp/SuperStock_1606-28218.jpg
https://secure.peta.org/images/content/pagebuilder/21617.jpg
http://www.ffaf.org/images/goveg1.jpg
http://www.acuteaday.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/loving-mother-cow-and-calf1.jpg
http://www.ifimages.com/photos/UlKuNLgKQ2TuejtgsujsCn4Cg0/author-773/Cattle-processing-slaughterhouse.jpg
http://veganrabbit.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/vegan-because-my-body-is-not-a-graveyard.jpg
http://www.happycow.net/humor_images/protein.gif
http://www3.pictures.gi.zimbio.com/Animal+Activists+Encourage+Vegetarianism+4DB6jQYspsal.jpg

Veggie Tales

Phyliss

     My dear, dear Phyliss:

These past five months (five months exactly, actually. I was legally fit to interact with you August 1st.) Although I do enjoy the fun places we've encountered together, Phyliss, I have to say that you are too obnoxiously noisy for my taste. The way your rear end feels the need to say something every time we stop somewhere makes me want to cut my ears off and smear my ear blood all over your body. And I cannot think of a better way that I would want to spend my well-earned Saturday morning than waking up at 8 AM to take you to the hospital. The fragility of your body is a turn off. You're body is not a wonderland.

Phyliss, there are many positive things about you. Like your name. You were named by a crazy ex-girlfriend of my brother. Did you know he hates your name more than many other things in this world? Well, he does. You put smiles on peoples faces when they learn how horrendous your name actually is. The colour of your skin makes them giggle as well.

Ok, I lied. There is nothing positive about you. Other than the fact that you are capable of accompanying me from point A to point B. Which, Phyliss, a blind, deaf, stupid, or even dead raccoon could do just as well as you do. But that's okay, because in a way, you are blind, deaf, stupid, and dead as well. I rule rock your world. I am your master, Phyliss. You are my car, and you do as I say.

But don't say too much, because like I said, I will smother you in my ear-blood. And the doctor says the inside of my ears are not very pleasant.

Love,
     Your master

Anna

So I've been (and am still here) in California this winter break. And it's been quite lovely, really. We've gone around LA, and I've now been to Hollywood. (Look for me there in the near -or extremely distant- future.) Mario the tour guide was not only false on many "facts" he told us, but he also wouldn't shut up. I got to walk around 4 beautiful beaches: Venice, Santa Monica, Zuma, and Coronado. Universal Studios on Christmas day was infested with Mexicans, Indians (Namaste, brethrens) and and Chinese/Japanese/Koreans/what have you. But the highlight of my visit to SoCal was visiting one of my best friends, Anna, in the beautiful island haven of Coronado.

Let me expand on Anna for quite some time.

She is someone that once you spend a day with, you want to be exactly like. She's drop dead gorgeous naturally (I asked her. She wasn't wearing any make up when I saw her. Feel free to hate now.) She is *so* smart. Her passions are unique and the perfect fit for her. She takes amazing pictures on her cool and dandy camera. Although I don't actually know the definition of a hipster, she is most definitely a hipster. Her style is one-of-a-kind, just like her. Try to buy the same clothes as her from the random boutiques she goes to, fine. I can guarantee you that you will not look as good as her. Anna is a blonde haired blue eyed beauty.

But those are only her exterior qualities. What really makes me, and everyone who is lucky enough to encounter her ora, love her so much is her personality, her heart. Anna honestly lives every day to its fullest. Verbatim as she said it, she tries to find the good in any restriction she faces. She is a leader. You can't help but want to follow in her footsteps. She is confident. She knows what she wants in life and goes for it with her all. In the one afternoon that I was fortunate enough to spend with her, she reassured me of any flaws I have (if you know me, you know how many I have and how self conscious I am. So that much reassuring in one afternoon is quite phenomenal.) I filled her in on all the passive drama that I've experienced this year and she's told me just how to deal with it. She is a boy-problem-guru. I honestly just need her in my head 24/7 to help me.

I can tell Anna anything. She is the least judgemental person I've ever met. I can tell her that I've had anorexia without her looking at me any differently. I can tell her how much I dislike a common friend that we have without fearing that she'll think I'm a bitch. She's a human form of a journal. And she talks back to you. How awesome is she?

There's so much more to Anna than what I've said. Having to go through her moving back to California last year was one of the hardest things I've had to do. Her moving not only changed me, but it changed our whole friend group. Anna was honestly (this is probably the most factual statement that I've said in this whole post) the missing puzzle piece in our high school friend group. Everyone felt comfortable around her. Everyone *does* feel comfortable around her. She makes such an effort to keep in touch with all of her Minnie friends. I don't think I can really put Anna properly into words, even though I've written a load about her already.

If there's one person that I could say I'm jealous of, it's Anna. I don't blame you if by reading this far you are jealous too. Her life isn't perfect, but she makes it the best she can with whatever situation she's put in. That's something we can all improve on in our lives. And after seeing her again, I've decided that that's what I'm going to do.

Kudos to you for getting this far. This post is so long because: a) she needs this many and even more words to even partially put her into perspective for you, b) because I miss her more than anything and anyone right now, and c) because the traffic on freeway 5 in San Diego to LA is SO EFFING BACKED UP. DEAR GOD.

Okie, toodles.

That One Girl Who Never Does Anything Bad

I think that the reason I never try to risk anything is because I'm too fearful of the consequences.

Those of you who know me know that I don't really do anything risky... or interesting, for that matter. Sometimes I wish that I did risky things. Maybe sneak out, or go to a party that I obviously shouldn't be going to. Meet someone and befriend them, even though my parents would disapprove of it. But then I think of the effects that these choices could have on me, my life. It's not worth it to me. I'd rather stay home and watch movies or (don't hate me; don't judge me) maybe even do *gasp* homework on a Friday night instead of going to someone's house where I know everyone will be absolutely hammered. My parents disappointment, the loss of trust, risking getting kicked out of NHS and choir, none of that is worth a one night buzz.

I do think that there are times when risk is a good thing though. And I do think that I've done risky things to some extent. Putting yourself out there, showing that your vulnerable; these are all good types of risk. I open myself up emotionally every time I audition. I risk being rejected. I risk being condemned for not having a good voice. I risk being looked at as a horrid actress. I risk looking cocky. I risk looking too emotional. I put all of my being on the table in order for a judge to place a verdict on me. But it's these types of risk that I live for. The disappointment of failure doesn't even come close to the feeling of accomplishment. And this is all thanks to risk.

I guess my risk is more internal that external. I'm okay with that. Internal risk hasn't done anything to maim by being or my future. I don't need alcohol or the feeling in the pit of my stomach that what I'm doing is wrong in order to feel a rush of emotions.

In the hopes of lightening the mood of this post, here's a Spongebob Squarepants episode that is all about risk. (The kind that I try to abstain from.)

BIEBER FEVER

Blame my parents. They did it.

Rants About Junior Year

People have always told me that junior year is supposed to be the best year of high school.

I have yet to find reason to believe those people.

My classes got 10x harder this year than sophomore year. (To be expected. I'm not expecting any pity right at this moment.) APUSH is probably the worst class I've ever taken. We colored for 86 minutes on Thursday. You're thinking, "Really? She's exaggerating." No. I'm not. Mrs. McIntyre has a teal sheet of paper with a graveyard, mountains, a canoe, and an Indian man with moccasins next to him to prove it. I find no joy in going to this class. Reason #1 why junior year is not going down in my books as a favorite.

I seem to have misplaced my friends from freshman and sophomore year. Can you help me find them? I sometimes catch glimpses of them in the hallway, but I'm never sure if it's them. (Don't worry. I'm not friendless. I just only have theatre friends now. *I'm not complaining about having theatre friends. They're awesome.*) Reason #2 why I haven't had an epiphany of "OHMYGOD. Best year ever."

SAT/ACT/PSAT/(Insert other standardized test here that I will be taking that molds my future.) I actually prepped for the pre-SAT. That's how serious I am about these tests. The stress that I feel from these horrendous things keeps me from feeling any pleasure about this year. Reason #3.

Yes, it's December. Yes, I'm already thinking about prom. Yes, I am being a typical girl who is thinking that she won't get asked. But I have reason, and it's a fundamental problem to the idea of prom: I HAVE NO RELATIONSHIP WITH THE MALE SPECIES. If this pattern continues to go on through this year, I can just kiss the idea of wearing a beautiful dress, getting my hair all "did," and wearing pretty make-up goodbye. It'll be an extremely hard parting. Prom could maybe take up reasons #4-#10, but for the sake of you not thinking that I'm that desperate, it'll only be #4.

Reason #5: I just don't like high school. I'm ready to go to college. I'm pretty much sick of anyone that goes to Wayzata. I'm ready to open my mind to other types of people, other political viewpoints, other fascinating classes. And I'm also ready to go to a school where I can join the ISA (Indian Student Association) and then find the Indian man of my dreams and then be in a happy relationship. This has happened to pretty much any Indian college student I know. I'm just hoping that my streak of having a non-existent boyfriend is broken once I get to college. A girl can hope, right?

Speaking of college, my mother told me yesterday as we were pulling into the Super Target parking lot that I should major in music. WHAAAAA? You could say I had a DP in my mind.

Disclaimer: Okay, I don't hate everything about junior year. I've made amazing friends this year. I've found who I really am (a theatre/singing obsessed girl). I love being an upperclassmen. Especially in theatre. There are so many perks to it. I love being able to drive anywhere I want. I love the freedom that teachers give you. I love being a part of Wayzata, where academics and extra-curricular activities are accepted and encouraged. And I have great teachers that love what they are doing, which makes me encouraged to come to class every day. But I do hate some of you.

Crazy Little Thing Called Love.

     He knows I'll give him food, regardless of how I still hurt. He knows that I have to help him. It's as if he's a puppeteer with my heart, playing with its strings, controlling its every move. He knows that if he keeps coming back, I'll eventually give in to him and hand him food. And I will. That's what love does to you. It's a pain in the ass rear end, really.
     He was my first love. You always have a special place in your heart for your first love. What happened to his life I will never know. That's what you get for spending all your time in high school on girls, I guess. And I was one of those girls, those stupid girls who thought he actually meant it when he crooned, "I love you." Damn, how his lulling voice sounded to my yearning ears.
     Dear Lord. He's walking in right now. There's no one in this place except me and another middle aged woman. She must sense the tension that just infested the room, because she looks around. She focuses her sights on him. Does she see in him what I used to see? He's inside the restaurant now. Can he feel my heart pounding?
     I have food for him. Of course I do. A warm croissant, old, but not too old. It's slightly underbaked, just like he likes all his pastries. A large sized coffee cup is in my other hand. More milk added than the usual person would prefer, 3 1/2 teaspoons of sugar. I remember from all those coffee runs we spontaneously went on during our senior year. Will he think I'm still hung up over him if I remember all these details from 15 years ago? There's no turning back now: he sees me.
    All I can hear in this silent room is my heart thrashing. I try to focus on my heels. Click clack THRASH click click THRASH THRASH THRASH. Obviously that's not working. I look over at the middle aged woman, sitting silently at her table. She's looking at me curiously. Does she suspect anything? Oh god, he's right in front of me. There's so many possible things I could say, but how to say it eloquently?
    He plucks the bag and cup out of my hand, and leaves. He's gone just like that. He took my breath away just as he walked away. There's nothing more to do now than muster up the strength to click-clack back to my station. Half way there, I realize that I can't do it anymore. Hand over mouth, eyes starting to close, tears flowing down my face. My shoulders hunch up, my back curves, my knees buckle.
    He's done it again.
   

I've got a secret. Can you keep it?

#1: Narration
#2: Analysis
#3: Definition
#4: Proposal (Argument)
#5: Description
#6: Compare/Contrast

Shocking, I know.

That Little Green Monster Called "Jealousy"

Tell me you haven't ever been jealous. Tell me that to my face, and I will give you a strange, condemning look.

#1: The last time I was truly, genuinely jealous, was March 29th, 2011, when Concert Choir results were posted at 2:20 p.m. in the D-wing. (Are we surprised that this is about music? Not really.) Most, if not all, of my best friends had made it into our school's top choir, except me. I remember snapping at my friend during rehearsal about her making Concert, and me not. Nothing had caused this sudden outburst. Nothing, except the ferocious monster taking over my being: jealousy.

#2: Jealousy is not an arbitrary emotion. It takes thought and a considerable amount of feeling for the emotion to engulf your entire system. Usually, you feel a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach when your think of an accomplishment someone you know has made: straight A's, a lead in a musical, acceptance into a prestigous college, dating the most popular boy/girl in the school. Semblance of happiness does not work in these situations. The feeling that you might be trying to hide that is in your stomach starts spreading throughout your major body parts: your head, your heart. You feel that you should be given the same accomplishments that your friend has. You are just as good as your friend; you are better than your friend. Jealousy is not only a potent emotion, it's a disease.  

#3: Jealousy is a mental uneasiness felt when a person feels resentment against a rival (or more commonly, a friend) who has succeeded or accomplished something. It can either be felt in a miniscule way, or spread throughout a person's body until it is no longer manageable. Jealousy can be found in both sexes, in any age, and at any location. Jealousy can also lead to other mental disabilities, such as depression.


#4: I say that jealousy is a good thing in life. It creates healthy competition between family, friends, and enemies. Jealousy should not only be accepted: it should be encouraged. Without jealousy, who knows if Bill Gates and (now deceased, rest his technologically gifted soul,) Steve Jobs would have competed so viciously to create the latest and most convenient devices? Jealousy leads to success. I say that schools teach students about the causes and effects of jealousy in standard 10th grade health classes, and also inform students of how jealousy has played a fundamental part in America's history and success. Jealousy leads to competition. Competition leads to a victor. A victor is successful. A successful person has jealous enemies. The cycle not only repeats, but benefits our culture.

#5: She snaps. Just like that. She had been containing the beast inside herself for too long. It had been pounding to be released for ages, first invading her mind, wrongly telling her to yell and scream, to cry, to say, "this isn't fair! I deserve him. He was mine first!" It then swept to her heart, demanding that she have him. There is no one out there for her like he is. They are meant to be together. The girl foolishly goes along with the beast. She strides over to him and his new "friend," whose hands are entwined. They are looking into each others eyes, clearly in the first stages of puppy-love. She breaks through their grasp. And she snaps. Just like that.

#6: There is an obvious difference between being jealous of someone and being genuinely happy for someone. They can be seen as obvious opposites. But the difference between being jealous of someone and just plain hating someone have a finer line separating them. In order to be jealous, you have to actually want someone's accomplishments for yourself. If you hate someone, you just wish for all the worst to happen to your enemy. One involves wanting the best (for yourself,) and one involves wanting the worst (for your enemy.) Either one requires negative thoughts. But next time you say that you "hate" someone, make sure that it's not actually jealousy.

There My Heart Forever Lies

Once, in the highlands, the highlands of Scotland...


It only takes one show. 60 high schoolers. 4 directors. 1 group of techies. 1 pit crew. This is what creates magic. Through the exhilaration everyone feels about making a show; through two months of three hour rehearsals; through two months of angsty three hour rehearsals; through 6 hour tech rehearsals; through two weekends of pure bliss from performing; through traditions on traditions, on more traditions: this is what gets me through the day. It's mind-blowing how close you can get to a cast in such little time. We bond on so many different levels. I've made so many amazing friends from this privilege I've been given. The feeling I have when I'm around these people is a feeling that I wish everyone could experience at least once.


Let me just explain how my theatre friends make me feel. As you can probably guess, these fantastic voices are, for the vast majority, in our breathtaking Concert Choir. But sadly, I didn't make it. Now, I won't go on a rant of sadness on that topic, but this has a point. My best friends are in Concert. There is a separation in these choirs, no matter how much fluff you might want to add to us (still very talented) girls that are in the lovely Bel Canto. However, when I step into rehearsal and see all my friends that are in Concert, I feel no separation. I am one with these people. We work together as one voice, to bring as much musicality and emotion into our work as we possibly can. There is no separation in theatre (for me) as there is in choir. 

Our school has so much talent, if you haven't already realized that (how could you not realize that?). I'm not just talking about our choral or musical theatre department: I'm talking about our orchestra, that makes my heart melt every time I hear it; I'm talking about our band, that honestly puts countless hours into their work that I'm sure none of us have ever endured; I'm talking about our tech department, that spends hours working on curtains, lights, sets, props, costumes, and anything else you can think of that doesn't get direct recognition. These people are bring their talents together to make art magic. 


I don't think I can properly explain the comfort I feel the millisecond I walk into the D-wing at our school. There's just something about the ambiance there that makes me feel at home. Maybe it's because it's the art wing: that would be the most obvious reason. But, I feel like it might be deeper than that. The D-wing is where I found myself again. I realized who I am, what my passions are, what kind of people I want to surround myself with. I feel sheltered when I'm in any other part of the school, like I have to pretend to be something else in order to be liked. In D-wing, I let all my guards down, and spend time with the people I care most about. The people there accept me, and I accept them. There isn't much more you could hope for than acceptance. If you're looking for it, just walk through that part of the school. I can almost guarantee that you will find it.


As you can probably see, I'm in a very sentimental mood right now. I've had the time of my life, these past few months. I don't think I could have asked for a better cast to spend those months with. Even though at the beginning of the show I had my hesitations and grudges with some people, I can honestly tell you that I left the cast party last night this morning loving every single person. 


This is called Post-Show-Depression. And it's extremely depressing. Obviously.


(Oh, by the way, I used the huge letters at the beginning of my paragraphs to make it look like a fairy tale story. I've been living in a fairy tale world, these past few months.)

Slang, Yo.

Sup, ya'll? I heard this story from my friend yesterday about this huge tool of a "boyfriend" that cheated on his girlfriend with a slut. Grody. What a douche! It makes me really angry to hear about such jacked up relationships. That boy is so donskies.
(Btdubs, this story is supes not real. I totes just made it up, my duis. DUECES.)


Okay, so maybe that's just the way we talk in P-town, but it's slang nonetheless. I can guarantee that any teenager/young adult/maybe adult? has heard at least one of these words.


To be honest, I have no idea where 99% of these words came from. But if I could hypothesize, I would assume from either a) rappers or b) Jersey Shore.


"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," spoken by Rhett in Gone With The Wind. I have maybe said this phrase 100 times in the past week with my friend Julia. She actually told me to hurt her if she ever tries to say it again. CONNECTION TO EVERYDAY MEDIA: Plankton says it on Spongebob. "Well, that certainly was an interesting series of words that just tumbled out past your teeth and lips, but frankly, my dear sponge, I don't give a barnacle." (Spongebob's Last Stand, for you uneducated people of Bikini Bottom.) 


My friends and I always talk about what the significance of using swear-words in everyday language (don't be fooled, we swear a TON regardless of meaning.) Does, "you scared the shit out of me" even make sense? Not really. "What the hell/fuck are you doing?" I DON'T GET THE LITERAL MEANING OF THAT SENTENCE. I feel like people just throw in swear-words in their sentences to enhance their emotions. Swearing makes you feel empowered (at least for me). Swearing is awesome. Try it! 


PEACE, LOVE, & HAPPINESS!
Tootles. 
* all of the bolded words are slang words that I think we use in our language. 

To Anyone Who Read My Last Post

Don't do it.
Do not eat an Almond Joy.
It is the epitome of death by chocolate/coconut/fat/processed shit.
I just ate 8 Almond Joys.
I feel absolutely miserable.
DIE, ALMOND JOYS, DIE.

You Put The Lime In The Coconut... And Then You Eat it..

Hi.
I like coconut.
A lot.

If you give me that, I'll like you a lot.

I don't know what it is about coconut, but I've become obsessed. Last year, I discovered my addiction to Chewy bars was because there was coconut in it. I literally ate 10 Chewy bars in one day. But then I finally had a Chewy bar intervention, and made my mother stop buying them.

Then I met Almond Joys.*

My mother had boughten a huge pack of them to give to children (what child actually liked Almond Joys?) as little gifts** for when they came over for the Indian festival, Navaraatri. They were just sitting on the dining room table. I was having a chocolate craving, and decided to eat an Almond Joy, because I figured that I wouldn't like it, and would therefore only eat one peace of candy.

Wrong. 

I ate 13***.

UM.

Now I can't stop eating them. People are literally giving me their Almond Joys from Halloween, and I am in coconut heaven.

I'm not exactly sure what it is about coconut that I love so much. IT'S JUST SO GOOD. It's sugary, but not too sugary, and has a texture that is heaven, and is just so ?&$^!@# **** GOOD.

And there are nuts. Nuts are good. Nuts are in Almond Joys. Therefore, Almond Joys are good. (This is not a logical fallacy. This is TRUTH.) 

I don't understand why everybody seems to hate Almond Joys. What did chocolate mixed with coconut mixed with almonds ever do to you, other than try to taste delicious? But whatever, more of them for me. 

So, if you like me (or even if you don't), and you want to get rid of your Almond Joys, GIVE ME THEM. 

I <3 COCONUT.*****

* Almond Joys have coconut in them, if it wasn't already inferred.

** There were more than just Almond Joys as choices for candy. My mother isn't that oblivious to what children actually enjoy.

*** Ok, so, this entire post probably seems hypocritical to you if you read my mock proposal essay. BUT THIS IS MY POINT. If there was no candy, I wouldn't be addicted to Almond Joys, and I wouldn't have pounds of overly processed coconut (fat) mixed with trans fat (yay, more fat) in my body! AH.

**** There's a lot of words that could fit into those 7 symbols. It's the F word. 

***** Just thought I'd let you know that I have said the word "coconut" 8 times. (Not including this sentence.)

The Anti-process of Writing (and Life)

Things I do before I begin writing:

• Work out. If I'm going to be sitting in one place for hours on end writing, I might as well do something active before. 1 hour and 30 minutes gone.
• Go on Facebook. There is honestly no reason for doing this. Facebook is boring as hell, and yet I spend multiple hours on it doing absolutely nothing. 3 hours (accumulatively throughout the day) gone.
• Go on Twitter. Maybe someone else is procrastinating as much as I am? 5 minutes gone.
• Eat. And then I feel gross.
• Watch TV. No time for that in my life.
• Sing. Earbuds in my ear, music blasting, voice probably being ruined by the second by reckless notes that I probably should not be attempting to sing. 1 hour gone. (It's actually really easy to waste time by singing, if you're wondering.)
• Text anyone who will have the sincerity to respond quickly. Usually Nandu or Bridget. They're always awake. In total, probably 3 hours gone.
• That's almost 9 hours gone. Yep, seems pretty accurate. 

Things I do while writing

• Lay down on my stomach in my room, open Microsoft Word (2004 edition,) and stare at the screen for a very, very long time.
• Type out the first sentence that comes to my mind. Look at that sentence and think, "Did I actually think that would sound good?" 
• Look either at the syllabus or and example writing for help.
• Realize all hope is lost, I will fail at life, not get into college, not get a job, never find love, die alone homeless.
• Repeat everything that I did before I started writing, except working out.
• Have a meltdown in front of one of my parents. Be reassured that I will be able to write this paper, and mosey on up the stairs. 
• Lay down again. Look at Microsoft Word again. Think again. Type again. Erase again. Repeat again.
• Do this until a seemingly-mediocre paper has been written.

The process of revision:

• Write a shitty first draft.
• Think that my shitty first draft is amazing.
• Show it to my dad.
• Have my dad demolish it with corrections.
• Shamefully come back upstairs to correct.
• Come back with a less shitty, but still pretty shitty second draft.
• Look at a once-again demolished paper.
• Repeat eight times until my dad says the paper is a passing paper.
• Jump in victory.

This entire anti-process takes about 7-10 days.

It takes a lot out of ya. 

The first process is pretty much what I do before I start any type of homework. 

(I should probably change that.)