The past few days, I've been having a lot of dreams at night; the day before yesterday, I woke up three times and each time I knew I'd been dreaming right before. Yesterday's dream, however, is the only one that I can remember clearly.

I know that in the dream I was at a school, though I can't tell whether it was middle or high school. The class was going to watch a movie (for some reason I thought it was going to be a basketball movie). My 9th grade science teacher was there, and in the main menu for the movie, she started picking various traits. She could choose from varying levels of certain traits for a male character, like how nice he is or how good-looking he is. Depending on what combo of traits you put in, you get to see a different movie.

The movie that we got was one about a boy who would sneak into a private school's library because he loved to read. One day he was in the library, and so was a class of students who actually attend the private school. Then apparently some accident had happened because the teacher was ushering all the kids out. There was a door out of the library even though the library was on the top floor of the building (which was evidently several stories tall). For some reason or other I felt like I was there too, running out of the building with them. To get down to the ground, I climbed down one of those tall, spirally playground structures. It was like this, except it was blue and a lot bigger. (Actually, I think there's a park near my old elementary school that has one more like what I'm talking about. Maybe if I stop being a homebody I'll go out and take a picture of it.)

I knew I was back at my actual school (my school in the dream, not my real one) because I saw my dad coming over to take me home. I told him I had to go get my backpack because I'd forgotten it in my classroom. On the way there I met my friend SnK/Shiroihime (I am not sure which I should refer to her by) and she said to me, "Sorry, I broke your marker." I told her it was okay and dashed off to my classroom, which was on the second floor of the school. In there was my previous Literature/Writing teacher. She was putting out food, as if she was setting up for a party, and she also had some perfume in the room. As I went to get my backpack, I suddenly remembered that I had brought some money to buy perfume, and then I woke up. I'm still wondering right now why I wanted to buy perfume. It makes me sneeze. o_o;;

Like all dreams, it didn't really make sense and it probably won't ever make sense. I thought it was interesting, though, how I wasn't sure what was real in the dream. (Yeah, I know, technically it was all fiction, but nevertheless.) In the dream, I couldn't really tell whether what was happening in the movie was real or what was happening at "my school" was real. It sort of reminds me of the movie Inception and how you can't really tell what's reality sometimes...I'd like to really have a dream within a dream sometime.

Ah, that reminds me, in my Writing for Publication class, our end-of-the-year project was to make a photo slideshow. We are the narrators, and we talk about something we believe in; we put the recording of our voice together with the photos. I remember one girl talked about how when she was young she spent time picking which pajamas to wear at night because she believed that what she dreamed about depended on which pajamas she wore. And since she had a twin sister, she thought that if they wore the same pajamas they would dream about each other or show up in each other's dreams. It'd be really cool if you could actually control dreams like that.

Labels: class, dream, dreams, escape, inception, movie, night, pajamas, playground, project, reality, school, slideshow, writing for publication

This is a post that really deviates from the original topic, just so you know.

I suppose if you watched Ed, Edd n Eddy a lot as a child, you might've thought at first that I was talking about the good ol' Plank in that show. I don't know why I still remember that. Ed, Edd n Eddy was never one of my favorite cartoons. Guess it's always those odd little things that stick with you after all these years. Sometimes I'll just be sitting there, and it'll hit me all of a sudden...I remember things that I'd forgotten for many years. It hadn't seemed like much to me before, having enough time to read books and play Pokemon games and draw on my hands with washable markers. Back then I'd taken it all for granted. I always hated being told how lucky I am and how I should be grateful. I never understood it back then. But now I think I'm starting to.

This year's French class seems to have a focus on boards. We were able to use a SmartBoard one day. It's pretty cool that you can move stuff around with your hands and "write" on the screen (I suppose it's kind of like a giant tablet). But after that we haven't gotten to use it again. I wonder if there are other classes using the SmartBoard. Or maybe it's stored away somewhere, collecting dust. I often get the feeling that the decision-makers in my area don't make such wise decisions. The library has got some new check-out machines, which save time because you can check out multiple items. All you have to do is stack your items on the machine and it'll check 'em out for you. It is very cool, but did we really need to toss away all those older machines? They worked just fine (well, most of the time).

Well, anyways, back to the subject of boards - quite recently, my teacher passed out white boards for us to use. It sure is nostalgic having them again. I think the last time I got to use them was in 6th grade, and even then it was only rarely. In elementary school, I thought it was really fun to write or draw on a whiteboard, and I wanted to get one myself. When I finally did get a whiteboard for at-home use, I ended up hardly using it. I don't really spend much money anymore because this syndrome is so common for me. I seem to lose interest in things once I have them. But when I've lost what I used to have, then it hits me that I should've appreciated it.

The past seems so beautiful now, even with all its pitfalls...And the future often looks so bleak. I've been wondering for a while now what I'm really doing. It's required by law to go to school, so I can't really worm out of it (my parents can't homeschool me; they have to work, and they're not really good enough at English. And they don't really know any history or cell biology), and I have no idea if private school would be more fulfilling (not to mention the hefty price!).

I love to learn. But going to school is so exhausting. Each day I have to squeeze all the juice out of my brain, have to pay attention when people are talking to me, have to smile even when I don't feel like it... (And even then, one of my friends told me that I should smile more, which was very surprising to me. Several years ago, I was told by someone else that I looked like I was always happy, even when I was angry. I guess things have really changed since my childhood.)

There are lots of things I want to do, and yet here I am, glued to the spot for the next four years. Some days I'm feeling cheerful, I have energy and optimism flowing through my veins. But other days I'm in despair, because it seems like such a waste. Four years when I'm still young...I could be pursuing all those dreams of mine. It's such a waste. Such a terrible waste.

It's especially painful because a lot of things are my own fault. I didn't hang on to my old friends. Maybe it's inevitable that people will grow apart. But there are times when I could've made more of an effort, been more considerate. Sometimes I've been cruel or unsociable on purpose, just to keep people away from me. I've been very selfish, and I still am. I discover sides of people that I really don't like, to the point that I want to detach myself. Or I'm too cowardly to get close to someone because I expect that I am only going to lose that person. It has happened many, many times, and it will surely happen again. But the choice is mine: Will I take the risk? Or will I throw away the chance to befriend someone who might turn out to be a soul mate?

Labels: cartoon, choice, class, ed edd n eddy, french, friends, future, money, myself, past, people, school, smartboard, tired, waste

Earlier this month, there were flag football tournaments going on at lunchtime. Some of the students had been participating at the games. Apparently one of the PE teachers made the students stay late to clean up after the games (at least, they claim that, I wasn't there).

Well, I was sitting in my math classroom and the bell rang. A few students ended up being late. The first said, "Flag football," the second said the same, and so on...Until there was only one person left to come to class. As he was approaching the classroom, our teacher said, "Let's see what his excuse is."

To our surprise, when the boy came in, he said, quite simply, "I was late." My teacher was impressed by this, saying that the boy had taken responsibility instead of shifting the blame to the flag football games and PE teacher.

And then, during another math class, we were reading out the answers. It's usually like this: The first person in a row reads an answer from their homework, and then the person behind them reads the next answer, and so on. Well, it got to one boy and he couldn't read the answer because he didn't have his homework. "Do you have your homework?" asked the teacher. The boy fumbled for a response, but finally he had to say no.

My dad asked me later on if students ever claim that their dog ate their homework when they don't have it. I guess it's not really an excuse that's used nowadays. I mean, it wouldn't be a credible excuse unless someone had a dog in the first place.

Well, anyhow, I was reading a book called When Heaven Fell by Carolyn Marsden. It's about a girl living in Vietnam, named Binh. Her aunt moved to America when she was very young because it was rough in Vietnam at the time. Now that she is 35, she has rediscovered her family and traveled to Vietnam to visit them. But there's a lot of culture shock on both sides. The relatives living in Vietnam expect Di Thao, the aunt who lives in America, to be rich because she is American. And Di Thao has trouble getting used to the lifestyle in Vietnam.

For one thing, a relative asked Di Thao what her age was. Di Thao had said that in America, women didn't reveal their ages, before finally saying she was 35. Binh didn't understand why her aunt was uncomfortable because apparently, it's important to know someone's age so you know how to address them in Vietnamese.

And then the relatives asked Di Thao what she did for a living. She said she was a teacher. "What do you teach? Mathematics? Economics?" asked the relatives. Di Thao replied that she taught art. The relatives were confused about this. "People go to school to learn art? Why?"

The relatives also thought it was shocking that Di Thao was 35 but had no husband or children. As for Di Thao, she was surprised by the toilet, which you have to squat to use (Bleh! Horrible! I saw those kinds of toilets in China. I wouldn't go to the bathroom when there weren't the kinds of toilets that you can sit on).

I've been thinking that I really am very used to the American lifestyle myself. I love spaghetti (but when Binh ate it, she thought it was strange, especially the cheese taste). Our house isn't big, but it isn't so small that we all sleep side by side on the floor. (I think houses are pretty big in the USA compared to other countries. In Europe, things are more petite too) And we are accustomed to not wearing uniforms to school. When Binh saw a photo of an American school, and saw that the students wore plain clothing, she wondered if they were too poor to afford uniforms...In the USA it's usually just the private school kids who wear uniforms. I would like to be able to live in another country - not just visit it - because simply seeing a place for a week or two is not enough to really get a feel for what life is like there.

Labels: america, book, class, culture, different, dog, excuse, flag football, geometry, late, lunch, math, scapegoat, school, shock, sports, teacher, uniform, vietnam, when heaven fell

This past Sunday, I changed the time of my piano class, because my mother wanted me to come with her to attend a seminar being held locally. The seminar was about getting into one of those great Ivy League colleges, which is what most of the seminars I have heard of seem to be about. I was not impressed by similar seminars I had attended in the past (though my experience in this is certainly not vast; I have only been to a few "How to get into college!" seminars) and so I was very reluctant to go...I thought it would be a hassle to have to change the time of my piano lesson. I don't like to have my piano class later in the day because I think that my teacher in general feels more benevolent in the morning. (But my dad argued that she should be talkative in the evening because she would get lonely in the nighttime. Hmm, personally, I think by the end of the day she would be tired of teaching and would not be in the mood for side conversation.)

The lesson was changed to the evening, 7:45 pm. At the end of the class, I exited my teacher's apartment and noticed that there were some bugs trying to get close to the light next to her door. It seems that insects, particularly moths, are always eager to get as close as possible to any light source, even if they end up burning up in the process.

I feel that everyone is, in the end, attracted to light. Some of us may be nocturnal, but that dose not mean that we live without light, for even at nighttime, there is a little light, whether it be from the moon and stars or from something we have created here on this Earth. And as damaging as the light may be, particularly the sunlight, which can destroy our eyes and skin, we still need it. It's kind of a strange relationship.

I remember during my Yosemite trip in March that the nighttime had frightened me. The flashlights of the students kept blinding me and sometimes it was quite difficult to identify figures in the dark. I felt keenly aware of the dangers of tumbling into a ditch or tripping on a tree branch and spraining my ankle, for in the daylight it was quite easy to see this things, but in the darkness everything had an ominous aura to it that had not been present during the daylight hours. One time I woke up during the night because I drank too much water earlier and unfortunately needed to use the bathroom, and looking outside, I saw that there was not a soul to be seen, the lights appearing rather eerie as they shined upon the ground. It was peaceful, but in a way it was also scary, reminding me of a ghost town.

I wonder what it would be like to be nocturnal. Those beings who are surrounded by so much darkness see a very different world. Our world of daylight is bright, filled with color and vibrancy, in some ways comforting and in other ways overwhelming. But without the sun lighting your surroundings, colors fade, and your world seems to be in greyscale. You notice shapes and movement more than you do the fine details. It is harder to rely on your eyes when their capabilities seem to have been simplified. Every sound seems that much louder to your ears, even if you are not listening intently on purpose. You feel your way around to try and diminish the dangers.

Being unable to see the great spectrum of colors seen in light, I wonder if perhaps it is a harsh existence. Color makes things alive, beautiful...And you develop your preferences for colors, perhaps preferring the bold, passionate red, or the more soothing blues and greens, or perhaps you like the neon versions of colors. Or perhaps you like black, that one color said to complement every other. At the same time, without the light and color, you focus on other things, what you hear and touch and feel within yourself. With all these visual distractions during the daytime, I wonder if perhaps it is us being of the daytime that are missing out.

Labels: change, class, college, colors, danger, darkness, ghost town, light, night, piano, preference, seminar, senses, sight, sound, time, touch, trip, variety, yosemite

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