Look, it's really quite simple: I don't know what to write about. I really never do. I fake it really well. And you know, there are some days where I get the urge to work on a particular piece or to write about a certain topic on my mind, but that urge usually only lasts for a little bit. For the most part, I just there, staring at the blank white rectangle, sometimes seeing that cursor pulsing patiently.
That poor cursor. We don't talk about it very much. We talk about the letters that appear suddenly in its wake, and the words that the letters form. But that cursor has seen a lot. It never forces you to hurry. It never tells you a better way to write whatever it is. Above all else, it always lets you go back and erase what you've done. That cursor is the most forgiving, underappreciated thing in the entire world.
I mean, there are people who can't do that much. People who can't forgive, people who never dare look back, people who will constantly tell you different ways of doing something. The cursor never does that. It simply goes where you want it to go, usually forward. It'll go backward when you need it, but sometimes, when it does go backward, you don't need it to erase every single footstep it's taken. It understands that. It won't erase your whole sentence when you're trying to get back to the first word. The cursor understands. It's patient and willing to do what you ask. And if you make a mistake, it doesn't care. It won't correct it until you tell it to.
That doesn't mean that the cursor is perfect. It's a little sensitive sometimes. You'll be typing in one area, but then the slightest touch of your skin cells against a touchpad mouse and you're suddenly back three paragraphs. The cursor doesn't know better. It's trained to do what you ask it to do, and it can't tell the difference between deliberate movement and an accidental brush. But it's still frustrating, especially if you don't notice. But that cursor has seen some of the most beautiful pieces of writing in the world. And it couldn't tell you about them even if it tried. But you can tell the cursor anything you want. You can write out the most simple or the most complex descriptions, and the cursor will listen. It will faithfully plot along, leaving its footprints behind in the form of your beautiful thoughts put into words.
Look at me. I just wasted ten minutes of my life typing about the computer cursor. But I suppose there's not much wrong with that. I could be writing about much worse stuff. And it's not as if I'm a very expressive human being. That's just not who I am. I'm the type of person that sits in an armchair, typing about the deep emotional expanse of a computer cursor. No wonder I'm so low on friends.
But I've come to terms with it. After all, someone has to type about the computer cursor. Why not me?
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Thursday, September 22, 2016
A Tribute to My Brother
Right, let's get one thing straight: I am not known as an overly emotional person. In fact, I daresay I'm usually known as a very unemotional person. I'm either graver than gravy or laughing nonstop. It's not super common for there to be an in-between.
That being said, I do have emotions. I just don't usually like to express them, especially if I'm sad or embarrassed or frustrated. And I definitely do NOT cry in front of people, unless I'm at my wit's end.
I also love my family a whole lot. And when emotions and family combine, well...you get an emotional blog post.
My little brother is turning twelve tomorrow. He's my only brother, and he's stuck right in the middle: two older sisters, two younger sisters. It's rough for him, but he manages to put up with it pretty well.
He and I like the same kind of things, so we can have pretty interesting, intelligent conversations. However, there is a four-year age difference, so figuring out how to put these interests to practical use is usually a bit of a mess. He likes acting out, I like writing down. Over the years, we've eventually developed a pretty effective system: I narrate what he's supposed to be doing (which usually has something to do with a book or movie we both like) and he acts it out. Meanwhile, I take notes and write down a really, really basic storyline so we don't have to restart every time.
My brother is an amazing artist and storyteller. He's really attentive when it comes to detail, especially when drawing. He's also been taking karate for six or seven years, and he's pretty good (he has a blue belt, at least, and I don't think that's something to sneeze at). He's played the piano for a couple years as well, but his former teacher moved, and he only started them up again quite recently.
He's also very much a boy. He makes and laughs at gross jokes, he always talks about his "dislike" for girls, and he gets all wide-eyed when he sees a sword fight. At the same time, he's really quite mature and extremely smart. He cares about his family and is very protective of his sisters, especially the younger ones. He always tries his best to do what's right and to keep everyone happy.
I remember when he was born. I was four years old and had a nasty cough. I remember my parents telling me that I wouldn't be able to hold him for a while because of that, unless I wore a surgical mask. I don't really remember what happened that day until going to the hospital and seeing him. He looked different than I thought he would. And it was a weird experience because my sister was born almost two months before I turned two, so I remember absolutely nothing about her birth. But my brother was different. It was the first time I could really appreciate having a new sibling.
For almost four years, it was just the three of us. And quite honestly, I think we all thought that would be the end. Just the three of us. That obviously didn't happen, but we're glad it didn't.
Happy birthday, bud.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
That being said, I do have emotions. I just don't usually like to express them, especially if I'm sad or embarrassed or frustrated. And I definitely do NOT cry in front of people, unless I'm at my wit's end.
I also love my family a whole lot. And when emotions and family combine, well...you get an emotional blog post.
My little brother is turning twelve tomorrow. He's my only brother, and he's stuck right in the middle: two older sisters, two younger sisters. It's rough for him, but he manages to put up with it pretty well.
He and I like the same kind of things, so we can have pretty interesting, intelligent conversations. However, there is a four-year age difference, so figuring out how to put these interests to practical use is usually a bit of a mess. He likes acting out, I like writing down. Over the years, we've eventually developed a pretty effective system: I narrate what he's supposed to be doing (which usually has something to do with a book or movie we both like) and he acts it out. Meanwhile, I take notes and write down a really, really basic storyline so we don't have to restart every time.
My brother is an amazing artist and storyteller. He's really attentive when it comes to detail, especially when drawing. He's also been taking karate for six or seven years, and he's pretty good (he has a blue belt, at least, and I don't think that's something to sneeze at). He's played the piano for a couple years as well, but his former teacher moved, and he only started them up again quite recently.
He's also very much a boy. He makes and laughs at gross jokes, he always talks about his "dislike" for girls, and he gets all wide-eyed when he sees a sword fight. At the same time, he's really quite mature and extremely smart. He cares about his family and is very protective of his sisters, especially the younger ones. He always tries his best to do what's right and to keep everyone happy.
I remember when he was born. I was four years old and had a nasty cough. I remember my parents telling me that I wouldn't be able to hold him for a while because of that, unless I wore a surgical mask. I don't really remember what happened that day until going to the hospital and seeing him. He looked different than I thought he would. And it was a weird experience because my sister was born almost two months before I turned two, so I remember absolutely nothing about her birth. But my brother was different. It was the first time I could really appreciate having a new sibling.
For almost four years, it was just the three of us. And quite honestly, I think we all thought that would be the end. Just the three of us. That obviously didn't happen, but we're glad it didn't.
Happy birthday, bud.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Monday, September 19, 2016
Martin Luther and the Enlightenment
Fine, fine, FINE. For pity's sake, what more do you want from me?! The extremely prevalent AP English teacher told us that we need to do a blog post about my name and ancestors. This is what I get for trying to advance my education.
As I'm sure you're sick of hearing, my name is Odessa Taylor. You remember where I got my name? If you don't, I'm not reminding you. Odessa is a Latin name that means "wandering; quest" and a Greek name meaning "wrathful." Taylor is an English surname meaning "cut." So, my name is particularly violent.
And then my ancestors. I have a great-great-great-great grandmother from Norway. Most came from England, some from Scotland. But for a few generations now, it's just been Americans.
How have I come here? Good question. My ancestors from England wanted to come to America for some reason (probably freedom), and they steadily moseyed on over to the West, and then decided they kind of liked it, and they stayed where they were, had kids, and eventually ended up in Utah.
Sorry if that's not as detailed as you were expecting it to be, but let's face it: I'd rather write about something else.
So. Hello, everyone. How are we all today? Excellent. I have a story to tell you.
Last year, I took an AP World History class, which I really only took for college credit. I know it sounds horrible, but I don't exactly care about history. There are aspects that are really interesting, but history in general is just not my favorite, especially when I have to take notes on it.
Being me, I decided to brighten up my notes, but I wasn't sure how until about halfway through the year. Then, the light bulb of inspiration flashed with such brilliance that I was mentally blinded by the sheer wonder of it. What was this utterly fantastic stroke? I thought to myself, "Why not write it like a movie script?"
Now, let it be known that I did not write it exactly like a movie script. That would have been more effort than it was worth. Really how it went was I'd take what the textbook said, write it in a more descriptive way with added effects, add dialogue here and there, make a title, write when musical numbers are needed, and make little director's notes (such as "Still need to find an actor for him" or "That lighting is going to be difficult").
It was so much fun. I did it here and there over the last half of the school year, and it was amazing. One of my friends thought it was the greatest thing she'd ever seen in her life. But the absolute best one was the first one I did. The original. My masterpiece. I called it Martin Luther and the Enlightenment. Here is the introduction (just so you're aware, it talks about religion, so proceed carefully):
"Our tale begins in the early sixteenth century, with the Protestant Reformation shattering the unity of Roman Catholic Christianity...Two different beliefs, clashing in a spectacle of Martin Luther and Wittenberg in 1517, a story truly not worthy of this mechanical pencil. Martin Luther, the protagonist of the Protestants and the catharsis of the Catholics, protested in a perfectly theological way. A troubled man turned hero and villain, and anxious about his relationship with God, Luther...made a bold, life-changing move by coming to a realization that would change the course of Europe and alter the world's history...
"It was a dark and stormy night, or so we assume, once upon a time (for it only happened once) and Martin Luther became aware of his suddenly precarious relationship with God. He eventually came to recognize that the Catholic church was not teaching the correct way to get salvation. [cue lightning and thunder] Standing firmly wherever he was, he abruptly understood that neither the yellow value of the sinner nor the sacraments of the Church had any bearing on the destiny of eternity of the soul...Pacing excitedly, Luther's thoughts continued: the source of these beliefs, and of religious authority in general...was not the teaching of the Church, but the Bible alone, interpreted according to the individual's conscience. [at this point, Luther picks up the Bible and sings a song reminiscent of Les Misérables]...
"Reformation thinking diffused quickly both within and beyond Germany, thanks in large measure to the recent invention of the printing press. [cue montage] Luther's many pamphlets and his translation of the New Testament in German were soon widely available. [cue upbeat music; Reformation leader speaks with it] 'God has appointed the [printing] Press to preach, whose voice the pope is never able to stop.'
"Now, to France. [zoom out of a map and zoom into France on peasants singing a song reminiscent of Les Misérables]...On August 24, 1572, Catholic mobs in Paris [cue intense musical score] massacred some 3,000 Huguenots, and thousands more perished in provincial towns in the weeks that followed. Finally, a war-weary monarch, Henry IV [still need to cast him], issued the Edict of Nantes in 1598...[cut to King Henry IV looking sadly out his window]"
You get the idea.
Throughout the rest of the year, I would even reference back to this with some sort of remark about the five-star sensation, Martin Luther and the Enlightenment.
Now, it's a new year. I'm now in AP U.S. History, which actually is a little more interesting to me. Last week, there I was, minding my own business as I was doing the reading from the textbook when all of a sudden...Martin Luther was mentioned.
After a moment of giddy flashbacks, I wrote in parentheses "see the feature film by acclaimed director and writer Odessa Taylor". Look, nobody said I was humble.
So, that's my story for today. I just had fun looking back on my awesome movie scripts. They were all pretty good, but this one was by far the best. Besides, it was the first. I couldn't ask for anything more.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Sorry if that's not as detailed as you were expecting it to be, but let's face it: I'd rather write about something else.
So. Hello, everyone. How are we all today? Excellent. I have a story to tell you.
Last year, I took an AP World History class, which I really only took for college credit. I know it sounds horrible, but I don't exactly care about history. There are aspects that are really interesting, but history in general is just not my favorite, especially when I have to take notes on it.
Being me, I decided to brighten up my notes, but I wasn't sure how until about halfway through the year. Then, the light bulb of inspiration flashed with such brilliance that I was mentally blinded by the sheer wonder of it. What was this utterly fantastic stroke? I thought to myself, "Why not write it like a movie script?"
Now, let it be known that I did not write it exactly like a movie script. That would have been more effort than it was worth. Really how it went was I'd take what the textbook said, write it in a more descriptive way with added effects, add dialogue here and there, make a title, write when musical numbers are needed, and make little director's notes (such as "Still need to find an actor for him" or "That lighting is going to be difficult").
It was so much fun. I did it here and there over the last half of the school year, and it was amazing. One of my friends thought it was the greatest thing she'd ever seen in her life. But the absolute best one was the first one I did. The original. My masterpiece. I called it Martin Luther and the Enlightenment. Here is the introduction (just so you're aware, it talks about religion, so proceed carefully):
"Our tale begins in the early sixteenth century, with the Protestant Reformation shattering the unity of Roman Catholic Christianity...Two different beliefs, clashing in a spectacle of Martin Luther and Wittenberg in 1517, a story truly not worthy of this mechanical pencil. Martin Luther, the protagonist of the Protestants and the catharsis of the Catholics, protested in a perfectly theological way. A troubled man turned hero and villain, and anxious about his relationship with God, Luther...made a bold, life-changing move by coming to a realization that would change the course of Europe and alter the world's history...
"It was a dark and stormy night, or so we assume, once upon a time (for it only happened once) and Martin Luther became aware of his suddenly precarious relationship with God. He eventually came to recognize that the Catholic church was not teaching the correct way to get salvation. [cue lightning and thunder] Standing firmly wherever he was, he abruptly understood that neither the yellow value of the sinner nor the sacraments of the Church had any bearing on the destiny of eternity of the soul...Pacing excitedly, Luther's thoughts continued: the source of these beliefs, and of religious authority in general...was not the teaching of the Church, but the Bible alone, interpreted according to the individual's conscience. [at this point, Luther picks up the Bible and sings a song reminiscent of Les Misérables]...
"Reformation thinking diffused quickly both within and beyond Germany, thanks in large measure to the recent invention of the printing press. [cue montage] Luther's many pamphlets and his translation of the New Testament in German were soon widely available. [cue upbeat music; Reformation leader speaks with it] 'God has appointed the [printing] Press to preach, whose voice the pope is never able to stop.'
"Now, to France. [zoom out of a map and zoom into France on peasants singing a song reminiscent of Les Misérables]...On August 24, 1572, Catholic mobs in Paris [cue intense musical score] massacred some 3,000 Huguenots, and thousands more perished in provincial towns in the weeks that followed. Finally, a war-weary monarch, Henry IV [still need to cast him], issued the Edict of Nantes in 1598...[cut to King Henry IV looking sadly out his window]"
You get the idea.
Throughout the rest of the year, I would even reference back to this with some sort of remark about the five-star sensation, Martin Luther and the Enlightenment.
Now, it's a new year. I'm now in AP U.S. History, which actually is a little more interesting to me. Last week, there I was, minding my own business as I was doing the reading from the textbook when all of a sudden...Martin Luther was mentioned.
After a moment of giddy flashbacks, I wrote in parentheses "see the feature film by acclaimed director and writer Odessa Taylor". Look, nobody said I was humble.
So, that's my story for today. I just had fun looking back on my awesome movie scripts. They were all pretty good, but this one was by far the best. Besides, it was the first. I couldn't ask for anything more.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
A Belated Introduction
We were informed today that our first blog post should be an introduction to ourselves. Just pretend that this one came first.
Well, my name is Odessa Taylor. It's a fairly easy name, but it gets over-complicated all the time. First off, the spelling is not that hard. Spell it like it sounds: O-dess-a. However, people don't get that. The most common mistake is Oddessa, which has been used so much I don't even care anymore, and Odesa is manageable. However, I do not like Oddesa, Odyssa, or Bodesa (yes, these have all been used before). It's also interesting how many people mispronounce it. Say it like it looks: O-dess-a. I can't tell you how many teachers and substitutes have looked at the name, furrowed their eyebrows, and pronounced it really hesitantly, but getting it right. Only a couple times has it been butchered. Odeesa is usually the most common mispronunciation, but it's quite rare.
People often say, "Oh, like Odessa, Texas!" Yes. In fact, those are my initials. But, surprise, I was not named after Odessa, Texas. When I was born, my uncle was in Odessa, Ukraine, plus my mom had had a friend named Odessa in junior high, and my parents really liked the name, and voila--Odessa Taylor.
I am sixteen years old (as I've previously mentioned), and my birthday is January 27. I'm the oldest of five (I have three younger sisters and a younger brother). We also have a cat.
I am very fond of reading, writing, singing, and listening to music, but don't ask me to sing in front of you. You have to be an extremely good friend, my choir teacher, or paying me if you want to hear me sing all alone. And yes, I am in choir (concert choir, in fact).
I can be really, really sarcastic sometimes. Not mean sarcastic, but funny sarcastic, if you get my meaning. I like cracking jokes and making puns and such as well.
I also have a really good memory. And I'm not saying that to brag, I'm just making a statement. I remember very weird, random details about the smallest things. Like, really weird, random incidents that had absolutely no lasting effect on my life.
Let's see, what else...my favorite color is red, my favorite animals are birds (all sorts), and my favorite food is boxed macaroni and cheese (emphasis on boxed).
I am very much into following the rules and keeping things in line. I've had friends, neighbors, and coworkers inform me I'm like a second mother, which I suppose is a backhanded compliment of a sort.
Well, I don't know what else to write about the wonderful human being that is me (oh, that's right, I'm really humble). I suppose if you have any questions, you can ask.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Tina the Balloon
So, remember how I said that I started this blog so I wouldn't feel guilty when my AP English teacher brought it up? Well, it's now mandatory for us to write for at least fifteen minutes every day. Good thing I got started on this early.
Well, I guess today we'll experiment with storytelling. I understand that things I find extremely amusing aren't necessarily what you find funny, but I'm writing this, not you, and nobody (as far as I know) is forcing you to read this. If you don't find something I say funny, chill. I don't care.
All right, in my Spanish 2 class, my teacher (whom we will refer to as Señor Herrero) has us draw a personified object, and then he picks one that will fit his idea for a story the best. The artist of the winning drawing has the option of being the "actor" (they don't really do a whole lot). He also chooses a couple people to be the artists of the story as it progresses and a couple secretaries to write down words or phrases they find interesting (after all, the story is mostly told in Spanish).
Today, the drawing of a balloon was the winner. Acting was passed to someone else and the artists and secretaries were chosen. We decided on a name: Tina. Señor Herrero cut a balloon shape out of a red piece of paper and handed it to the actress. He then handed other colored pieces of paper to other students and had them cut out balloon shapes. I had the honor of being the yellow "balloon." Usually how the stories go is Señor Herrero will go through the basic plot while we come up with different details and appropriate reactions. He informed us at the beginning that the balloon would end up in jail at the end.
Tina was a red balloon living in a party store with her other balloon friends: Verde, Anaranjado, Amarilla, and Blanca. Tina and Verde liked each other--a lot. Amarilla and Blanca were jealous, Amarilla especially. So, one night, she took an ugly hat to where Tina was sleeping and put it on her. Amarilla made fun of her. When Blanca and Anaranjado saw Tina wearing the ugly hat, they joined in. The question was, would Verde make fun of Tina?
The answer was absolutely. This went on for three days, with Tina's former friends making fun of the ugly hat and Tina.
At this point, we were all kind of chuckling. I mean, how else can you react to a story about balloon drama? Señor Herrero then retrieved the scissors that the actress of Blanca was still holding...then handed them to the actress of Tina.
The mood of the class changed dramatically. The actors of Anaranjado and Verde started panicking a bit. The rest were murmuring uncomfortably and starting to look a little apprehensive, but still giggling a bit. Señor Herrero then said, "Well, didn't we say that Tina ends up in jail at the end?"
Verde really started throwing a fit. There were several exclamations from the class. Señor Herrero shrugged. "No one said that these stories were G-rated." More panic, but quite a bit of laughter now too.
First, Tina went to Anaranjado (despite the protests from the actor that Amarilla was the one who started it). Tina stabbed him, and he was gone with a pop. She then went to Blanca and cut off the very tip so that she blew all around the story. Then...she went to Verde.
Verde begged and pleaded, trying to remind her of their friendship. Tina mercilessly cut his string so he soared up into the atmosphere, screaming all the way. Finally, she arrived at Amarilla, who also begged and pleaded. She offered frantic apologies and excuses. Then, quite suddenly, she popped from fear.
Tina's work finished, she floated out the door to Hawaii. Unfortunately for her, the sleepy security guard saw her fly away, and the police caught her in a matter of minutes. She then went to jail, and the story was done. We then looked at the artists' depictions. Anaranjado's death was especially violent.
While I'd like to say that all the stories in Spanish 2 are like this, they're not. I don't think I've ever witnessed one quite as violent, but they're all very strange and involve lots of random objects and plot twists and such. I have to say, though, this one was by far my favorite.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I enjoyed the story immensely.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Well, I guess today we'll experiment with storytelling. I understand that things I find extremely amusing aren't necessarily what you find funny, but I'm writing this, not you, and nobody (as far as I know) is forcing you to read this. If you don't find something I say funny, chill. I don't care.
All right, in my Spanish 2 class, my teacher (whom we will refer to as Señor Herrero) has us draw a personified object, and then he picks one that will fit his idea for a story the best. The artist of the winning drawing has the option of being the "actor" (they don't really do a whole lot). He also chooses a couple people to be the artists of the story as it progresses and a couple secretaries to write down words or phrases they find interesting (after all, the story is mostly told in Spanish).
Today, the drawing of a balloon was the winner. Acting was passed to someone else and the artists and secretaries were chosen. We decided on a name: Tina. Señor Herrero cut a balloon shape out of a red piece of paper and handed it to the actress. He then handed other colored pieces of paper to other students and had them cut out balloon shapes. I had the honor of being the yellow "balloon." Usually how the stories go is Señor Herrero will go through the basic plot while we come up with different details and appropriate reactions. He informed us at the beginning that the balloon would end up in jail at the end.
Tina was a red balloon living in a party store with her other balloon friends: Verde, Anaranjado, Amarilla, and Blanca. Tina and Verde liked each other--a lot. Amarilla and Blanca were jealous, Amarilla especially. So, one night, she took an ugly hat to where Tina was sleeping and put it on her. Amarilla made fun of her. When Blanca and Anaranjado saw Tina wearing the ugly hat, they joined in. The question was, would Verde make fun of Tina?
The answer was absolutely. This went on for three days, with Tina's former friends making fun of the ugly hat and Tina.
At this point, we were all kind of chuckling. I mean, how else can you react to a story about balloon drama? Señor Herrero then retrieved the scissors that the actress of Blanca was still holding...then handed them to the actress of Tina.
The mood of the class changed dramatically. The actors of Anaranjado and Verde started panicking a bit. The rest were murmuring uncomfortably and starting to look a little apprehensive, but still giggling a bit. Señor Herrero then said, "Well, didn't we say that Tina ends up in jail at the end?"
Verde really started throwing a fit. There were several exclamations from the class. Señor Herrero shrugged. "No one said that these stories were G-rated." More panic, but quite a bit of laughter now too.
First, Tina went to Anaranjado (despite the protests from the actor that Amarilla was the one who started it). Tina stabbed him, and he was gone with a pop. She then went to Blanca and cut off the very tip so that she blew all around the story. Then...she went to Verde.
Verde begged and pleaded, trying to remind her of their friendship. Tina mercilessly cut his string so he soared up into the atmosphere, screaming all the way. Finally, she arrived at Amarilla, who also begged and pleaded. She offered frantic apologies and excuses. Then, quite suddenly, she popped from fear.
Tina's work finished, she floated out the door to Hawaii. Unfortunately for her, the sleepy security guard saw her fly away, and the police caught her in a matter of minutes. She then went to jail, and the story was done. We then looked at the artists' depictions. Anaranjado's death was especially violent.
While I'd like to say that all the stories in Spanish 2 are like this, they're not. I don't think I've ever witnessed one quite as violent, but they're all very strange and involve lots of random objects and plot twists and such. I have to say, though, this one was by far my favorite.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I enjoyed the story immensely.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Monday, September 12, 2016
High School is Weird (and Not That Bad)
Ah-ha! I knew that title would interest you!
High school is weird. There's no way around it. I mean, I'm a complete advocate for school--love it. And you hear all the time how much fun high school is. Of course, I think that's just because of the time of life we're in because high school, at its core, is NOT fun.
Sure, there are aspects that are a lot of fun, especially if you play your cards right and pick classes you like. But is high school in and of itself really all that fun? I mean, the classes that we're required to take aren't exactly thrilling. It's interesting, sure, and there are certain things you do that are fun. But showing up to a class, sitting in a hard chair, not allowed to talk, and listening to some adult tell you how to get x all by itself? Yep, I'm sure that sounds like the perfect list for a good time.
Like I said, there are things you do that are fun. Discussions can be fun, as long as no one acts like the fate of the world depends on their opinion being revered by all. And of course, there are days when the teachers are as bored and tired as we are and are a little more lenient towards chatting and laughing.
But back to the point: High school is weird. Education isn't weird; I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying that high school is weird, and junior high is a little strange too. I mean, there we are, a bunch of hormone-loony teenagers, walking around a building where adults voluntarily donate their time and effort to spit information at them (sometimes literally) while the students hope that the said information will help them get into college. See the point?
Really, though, we over-complicate education sometimes. You see things all over social media about people making some sort of comment about how awful education is in America. Every time I read one of those, I think to myself, "Maybe if you showed up to school every once in a while, you'd realize it's not that bad."
I know, I know, that sounds super insensitive. But it's true. We go somewhere for a whole seven hours a day, five days a week, nine months of the year to sit there and listen to a teacher give us rather vital information. What the heck are you finding to complain about?
"School causes me too much stress." School is definitely a stressful part of life. I will not deny that. There are assignments that need to be finished as perfectly as you can, essays to be written with the proper grammar and spelling, tests to be taken quickly and efficiently, and projects to be completed to polish off your grade, not to mention homework, reading, extracurricular activities, after-school jobs, family obligations, goals to fulfill, and free time. Sound overwhelming? The thing is, it doesn't have to be. If school is causing you so much stress that you feel as though your life is spinning out of control? That is not school's fault; it's your own.
Did your principal walk up to your house, politely knock on the door, and inform you that if you didn't beat that video game you bought yesterday you wouldn't get anywhere in life? Did your school counselor text you during the summer to tell you that if you didn't finish that TV series by the end of the week you wouldn't get a well-paying job? Did your school itself give you a call and tell you to stop working so hard and take a three-week break?
Look, there's this little thing called time management. Many people haven't heard of it, but it really works. The basics of time management is that if you do what's most important first, everything else will fall into place, and everything that turns out to not be important will magically disappear. I know, it sounds shocking and unbelievable. I promise, though, it works.
I also find it interesting that people who complain about school sucking out every minute of their life are the same people posting things all over social media about the six hours they spend watching TV a night and all the time they waste perusing the Internet for things they don't actually care about and that spend more time on video games than in the real world. Hmmm...
Again, I'm not saying that school isn't stressful. It's plenty stressful. And I'm also not saying that if you're complaining about school you're an ungrateful sod who doesn't know anything about life, nor am I saying you have to love school with every fiber of your being. I'm just saying that you shouldn't complain about something you're not willing to do anything about.
School is hard. Life is hard. In the real world, you can't keep track of how many lives you've lost because you've only got one. In the real world, you don't curl up in bed and watch somebody else's life pass before you from a glass screen. You have to work to get through this, and I think that's one of the biggest things that school teaches us.
Well, I hope I haven't driven any of you to tears. Just remember, school really isn't that bad, and honestly, you might miss it when you're all done.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
High school is weird. There's no way around it. I mean, I'm a complete advocate for school--love it. And you hear all the time how much fun high school is. Of course, I think that's just because of the time of life we're in because high school, at its core, is NOT fun.
Sure, there are aspects that are a lot of fun, especially if you play your cards right and pick classes you like. But is high school in and of itself really all that fun? I mean, the classes that we're required to take aren't exactly thrilling. It's interesting, sure, and there are certain things you do that are fun. But showing up to a class, sitting in a hard chair, not allowed to talk, and listening to some adult tell you how to get x all by itself? Yep, I'm sure that sounds like the perfect list for a good time.
Like I said, there are things you do that are fun. Discussions can be fun, as long as no one acts like the fate of the world depends on their opinion being revered by all. And of course, there are days when the teachers are as bored and tired as we are and are a little more lenient towards chatting and laughing.
But back to the point: High school is weird. Education isn't weird; I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying that high school is weird, and junior high is a little strange too. I mean, there we are, a bunch of hormone-loony teenagers, walking around a building where adults voluntarily donate their time and effort to spit information at them (sometimes literally) while the students hope that the said information will help them get into college. See the point?
Really, though, we over-complicate education sometimes. You see things all over social media about people making some sort of comment about how awful education is in America. Every time I read one of those, I think to myself, "Maybe if you showed up to school every once in a while, you'd realize it's not that bad."
I know, I know, that sounds super insensitive. But it's true. We go somewhere for a whole seven hours a day, five days a week, nine months of the year to sit there and listen to a teacher give us rather vital information. What the heck are you finding to complain about?
"School causes me too much stress." School is definitely a stressful part of life. I will not deny that. There are assignments that need to be finished as perfectly as you can, essays to be written with the proper grammar and spelling, tests to be taken quickly and efficiently, and projects to be completed to polish off your grade, not to mention homework, reading, extracurricular activities, after-school jobs, family obligations, goals to fulfill, and free time. Sound overwhelming? The thing is, it doesn't have to be. If school is causing you so much stress that you feel as though your life is spinning out of control? That is not school's fault; it's your own.
Did your principal walk up to your house, politely knock on the door, and inform you that if you didn't beat that video game you bought yesterday you wouldn't get anywhere in life? Did your school counselor text you during the summer to tell you that if you didn't finish that TV series by the end of the week you wouldn't get a well-paying job? Did your school itself give you a call and tell you to stop working so hard and take a three-week break?
Look, there's this little thing called time management. Many people haven't heard of it, but it really works. The basics of time management is that if you do what's most important first, everything else will fall into place, and everything that turns out to not be important will magically disappear. I know, it sounds shocking and unbelievable. I promise, though, it works.
I also find it interesting that people who complain about school sucking out every minute of their life are the same people posting things all over social media about the six hours they spend watching TV a night and all the time they waste perusing the Internet for things they don't actually care about and that spend more time on video games than in the real world. Hmmm...
Again, I'm not saying that school isn't stressful. It's plenty stressful. And I'm also not saying that if you're complaining about school you're an ungrateful sod who doesn't know anything about life, nor am I saying you have to love school with every fiber of your being. I'm just saying that you shouldn't complain about something you're not willing to do anything about.
School is hard. Life is hard. In the real world, you can't keep track of how many lives you've lost because you've only got one. In the real world, you don't curl up in bed and watch somebody else's life pass before you from a glass screen. You have to work to get through this, and I think that's one of the biggest things that school teaches us.
Well, I hope I haven't driven any of you to tears. Just remember, school really isn't that bad, and honestly, you might miss it when you're all done.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
Friday, September 9, 2016
Plot Point One
Well, hello. I would like to make it very clear that I have never done this sort of thing before, at least for the public view. I write all the time, but it's not very often that it's something realistic and thought-provoking, and it's even more rare that it's for anyone else to read. Just bear with me.
I also have a bit of a habit of needing to be spoon-fed every little thing I need to know about a subject before I actually start, hence the reason I looked up what people blog about. What I discovered was that there's a general consensus about the nature of a blog, and you really only have two options. One is to entertain yourself, and the second is to gain readers.
Which led me to realize that I am the third type of blogger: a teacher pestering your AP English Language class to start blogs so that you can become better writers. Please tell me that I'm not the only person in that category.
I mean, don't get me wrong: I love writing. I always planned on starting a blog--just not at the ripe old age of sixteen. Even when the aforementioned English teacher began his "start a blog" campaign for our class on the first B-day of school, I just sort of brushed it off. "He's only making a suggestion," I reasoned. After a couple weeks, however, I realized that I wouldn't feel guilty every time he brought it up if I just started one.
So here I am.
Many of you (if you're out there) are probably wondering what this sixteen year old girl is going to be writing about. Good question. I guess we'll find out together.
Of course, I have a general idea. As I was reading what people usually blog about, I discovered that unless you're writing to entertain yourself, you're completely pandering to the readers you may never meet in real life. I found a list of what readers of blogs usually want to read, and it was pretty heavy stuff, like "Readers want their fears relieved" and "Readers want solutions to their problems." No thank you. That is way too much pressure for me to handle.
Since I'm here, starting a blog, I may as well make the most of it. My goals are to make this a rather entertaining blog, completely devoted to amusing others and relieving my sarcastic quips. I like making others laugh (or at least smile) in real life, so why not do the same thing on a blog where a whole plethora of people can enjoy the wealth of humor I hold?
Now, how I execute this plan is still unknown. Will I tell the astonishingly funny tales of my days in high school or working at the local fitness center? Will I write down all my musings and thoughts? Will it simply be me making fun of something? Maybe it'll be a mix.
Well anyway, there you go. I started the blog. I have embarked on an adventure. My plot point one is right now.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
I also have a bit of a habit of needing to be spoon-fed every little thing I need to know about a subject before I actually start, hence the reason I looked up what people blog about. What I discovered was that there's a general consensus about the nature of a blog, and you really only have two options. One is to entertain yourself, and the second is to gain readers.
Which led me to realize that I am the third type of blogger: a teacher pestering your AP English Language class to start blogs so that you can become better writers. Please tell me that I'm not the only person in that category.
I mean, don't get me wrong: I love writing. I always planned on starting a blog--just not at the ripe old age of sixteen. Even when the aforementioned English teacher began his "start a blog" campaign for our class on the first B-day of school, I just sort of brushed it off. "He's only making a suggestion," I reasoned. After a couple weeks, however, I realized that I wouldn't feel guilty every time he brought it up if I just started one.
So here I am.
Many of you (if you're out there) are probably wondering what this sixteen year old girl is going to be writing about. Good question. I guess we'll find out together.
Of course, I have a general idea. As I was reading what people usually blog about, I discovered that unless you're writing to entertain yourself, you're completely pandering to the readers you may never meet in real life. I found a list of what readers of blogs usually want to read, and it was pretty heavy stuff, like "Readers want their fears relieved" and "Readers want solutions to their problems." No thank you. That is way too much pressure for me to handle.
Since I'm here, starting a blog, I may as well make the most of it. My goals are to make this a rather entertaining blog, completely devoted to amusing others and relieving my sarcastic quips. I like making others laugh (or at least smile) in real life, so why not do the same thing on a blog where a whole plethora of people can enjoy the wealth of humor I hold?
Now, how I execute this plan is still unknown. Will I tell the astonishingly funny tales of my days in high school or working at the local fitness center? Will I write down all my musings and thoughts? Will it simply be me making fun of something? Maybe it'll be a mix.
Well anyway, there you go. I started the blog. I have embarked on an adventure. My plot point one is right now.
I hope your day is as awesome as you.
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