These past few days I've been watching the anime Angel Beats. It's already been a while since the anime came out - that was back around April to June 2010 - which is typical for me. I tend to watch older anime first and then gradually work my way up to more recent animes, so I guess I've been making pretty good progress if I'm able to watch some 2010 animes from time to time. (I think there still might be a couple of 2007 animes that I haven't watched yet, like Shattered Angels. Funny that its name is also about angels. :p)

Well, as is the case with me and most animes I've watched, I wasn't particularly intrigued by the beginning, but it got better as it went on (I felt that way about Durarara!! too). I'll try not to spoil it for those of you who have not seen it and might want to see it in the future.

I've heard it mentioned before that Yuri Nakamura, one of the protagonists of Angel Beats!, resembles Haruhi Suzumiya from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (otherwise called Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu).
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Labels: angel beats, anime, art, characters, chronological order, comparison, existence, haruhi suzumiya, life, meaning, my soul your beats, nico nico douga, pattern, proof, similar, song, time, yuri nakamura

I've recently been learning about logarithms in my math class, and it has not been going well. So far this semester, math had not been as challenging as I'd expected, up until I got to logs. They seemed simple enough, and I thought that I understood them...But I found out during the most recent math quiz that I really don't understand them at all. I couldn't even finish the quiz in time. It was really a slap in the face. I knew I'd been getting overconfident about tests; I studied less and less as the year went on.

It's tempting for me to just blame it on the fact that there weren't the kind of problems on the test in the textbook - nothing to study with. But if I'd actually been trying hard enough to study, maybe I would've realized that. Maybe I would've gone looking for problems, made up my own, just done something. Anything.

I started to write this post before, but I completely forgot about it; my memory hasn't been good for quite a long time, and I haven't been sleeping too well lately. I wake up in the middle of the night, and then I can't get back to sleep again for a long time, if at all. I've been pretty tired during the day, and one of my friends even asked me if I was okay, saying that I seemed out of it. But I guess being sleep-deprived hasn't been as bad I as I expected. I thought I would pass out in the middle of class or something.

People do pass out, though. The reasons are unclear; could be dehydration. A couple of weeks ago, I was minding my own business in science class when I heard a loud thump. One of my classmates had just fallen out of her stool. The teacher called the office, and a woman came into the classroom with a wheelchair to take away my classmate. Thankfully she wasn't badly injured after all and was back to class the next day. Crazy enough for one person to faint, but the teacher said she'd seen it happen before. There was even a student who practically did a backflip when she fell out of the stool.

But even such things are a part of normal life, are they not? I don't know anymore if there is a such thing as normal anymore. You'll see that idea in Durarara!! and in Inception, both of which were (perhaps still are) quite popular, and not without reason. Inception is one of those movies where you have to pay attention - if you're multitasking the way I tend to, then you might look back at the screen and realize you don't know what the people are doing or where they are. Still, it was a riveting movie, and one of the few movies with lots of explosions and guns that I actually liked, seeing as am I'm generally more of a fan of comedies. If you haven't watched it, I definitely recommend Inception.

Labels: algebra, anime, durarara, faint, health, inception, life, logarithm, logs, math, movie, normal, quiz, sleep

I've been having lots of dreams over this past holiday season. Not really dreams that make me happy, though - I seem to have more and more nightmares these days. When I was younger, I was a major worrywart, though now I slack off a lot more and have a "whatever happens, happens" mentality. Can't say it's a good thing, because even if I might have a blast during the day, my sleep will be haunted by the fears that I've buried. My winter break's coming to an end, and it's rather depressing thinking that I have to go back to the tiresome daily grind again. One of the earlier dreams was about going back to school...except it was far stranger than I'd imagined it would be.

I assume that I returned to my high school, considering that in the dream I "knew" that I had 7 periods. But I had science first thing in the morning, even though it's my last class of the day, and there was a strict lady with short hair and glasses instead of my teacher. And one of my friends, who is not in my science class, was sitting near me, and her cell phone rang in class (which is impossible! She doesn't have one). I didn't have a locker, so instead I put down my backpack on the ground and was rifling through it when another friend of mine came along and told me, "I heard there's a great dessert menu!" (Since when would school lunches include such things?) I said that it sounded great, but I wasn't sure if I should eat it (I'm bound to overeat if I have too much tasty food around). She insisted, "What is food for besides eating?"

The strangest thing by far was PE. There was no locker room to change clothes, so we went into a building that looked alarmingly like a supermarket. Boys and girls all changed in that room, no privacy at all. And in the swimming pool, some guys were just fooling around, and then they must've challenged the dessert friend from earlier, because she got really fired up, saying "OH YEAH?!" and swam at a demonic speed.

I had another, shorter dream, where I was at my elementary school campus, walking with a friend I met in middle school and one who moved away when I was in 5th grade. We passed by a huge pile of brown stuff, which was apparently camel poop.

Last night's dream was weird, too, and it involved the friend who was in my dream's science class. Some of our friends had gone off during the school lunchtime to go to a nearby 7-11 and buy some food, so we decided to go too, after they'd left. But I was having difficulty getting out of the school, and could not find a way out except for trying to crawl under the barbed wire fence (luckily, there was a driveway that we walked down instead). But we didn't go to the 7-11; somehow we ended up at some other stores, one of which was a GameStop, and my friend went in and started admiring the TV screen, which was playing some Japanese commercials for video games. I don't remember what happened next, but somehow we ended up at my house, and I started to panic when I realized we were running out of time and had to get back to school. I suggested that we go out the front door and just walk back to school, but my friend, oddly enough, became very angry with me and insisted we go back the way we came. Problem is, I had no idea how we'd gotten to my house in the first place, so I followed my friend, and there were two men in the house. They went over to a wall, and one of them reached his hand into it like it wasn't solid. And he must've found a doorknob, because a door formed, and he opened it. We ended up in the outdoors, in a place full of plants (which I now suspect might've been a different version of my backyard). I don't remember anything else, as I woke up right then.

Dreaming's pretty hard work, even if it sounds like such a lazy activity... I wake up tired every time I've been having dreams. I guess it's because in a way you've been awake all night long - running around, talking to people, living an entire other life.

Labels: 7-11, camel poop, cell phone, changing clothes, dessert, dream, fantasy, friends, lazy, life, new year, night, PE class, school, slacker, sleep, strange, stress, time, worry

Blood crosses. They happen when siblings, or cousins, or some other kind of relatives have children together. It's something that disturbs me a bit. I suppose you could fall in love with a relative, but it's a bit frightening what things could happen as a result of such a relationship.

I heard mention of it in the book called The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski. The Sawtelles, the family upon which the book focuses, keep careful records of every dog they have bred so that no dog will have a blood cross. Blood crosses have sometimes resulted in physical defects, both in animals and in people.

I was reading National Geographic not that long ago (it is one of my favorite magazines, after all, and I renew my subscription every time it runs out) and apparently it seems that King Tut may have been the result of crossed blood...And that could be why he is pictured with a cane (had some sort of foot problem from the blood cross, perhaps? And maybe he had a weak immune system, too, which would have contributed to his death at such a young age). Among royalty it isn't uncommon to have blood crosses. Sometimes it's to preserve political power (which confuses me a little, because if you wanted to be more powerful, wouldn't it be better to marry someone out of your family so you would have more connections? But oh well) and other times people do fall in love with their family members.

There was also a guy who was French royalty who had crossed blood flowing in him and he developed slowly (I think he couldn't walk until 7? Or something freaky like that) and he didn't live that long. Isn't that painful? The odds are against you from birth. If you're the child of two relatives, then there's a possibility that both of them have a recessive gene that could cause problems, and if you happened to be unlucky enough, you might be born with those two recessive genes put together, and you would suffer from whatever problem the gene causes. And you'd be doomed to get cancer over and over again or die early, and so on. (Hmm, I suppose you could end up with such genes even if you didn't have crossed blood, but in that case you'd have to have two people meet who had some sort of similarities in genes, and I guess considering the amount of people out there it would happen, but then again there are a lot of combinations of genes that are possible, too...Well, never mind me, just talking to myself. Really. No one reads this besides my future self anyways.) I guess in that case you might not be able to change your fate. But I've heard this quote that "It's not the years in your life, it's the life in your years", so even if you know you don't have long to live, search for happiness. You're alive, so go and live as much as you can! That's still something I need to do.

I've been concerned about bloodlines because of my grandparents on my mother's side. People in China don't necessarily change their last names when they get married. In the case of my grandma, she already had the same last name as my grandpa, so there was no need to change last names. True, there are a lot of people in China, and you'll certainly meet people with the same last name, but it made me think that there's probably a blood cross, even if it's somewhere way back. A bit freaky to think about. One time I said to my mom, "So that's why you're so twisted!" (referring to her personality) which made her become indignant. XD But anyways, don't be like me, don't joke about it. "Do as I say, not as I do."

My science teacher showed us a website that contains a world clock. You can see births, deaths, illness, crimes, and whatnot. A bit morbid, I guess, watching as the number of deaths go up (there are really a lot of people who die of respiratory infections!) but it's kind of fascinating too. Here's the url:

http://www.poodwaddle.com/clocks/worldclock/

Labels: blood, book, clock, cross, death, family, genetics, health, life, national geographic, personality, problems, relatives, sickness, the story of edgar sawtelle, what if, world

Is there such a phobia? Because I probably had it, not long ago.

A week from now, on Monday, I will officially make the move from middle school to high school. It's a change that I have been feeling uncertain about. It seems like the clock will really be ticking once I enter high school. My mother is now pressuring me to take classes and study for the SATs and attend seminars. And now I'm being urged to...

- Talk to my teachers (which is a bit hard for me, since I'm not that outgoing as of the past few years and I feel like it's really shallow to befriend your teachers just to get a good recommendation letter for college)

- Make a "professional" email (I don't want to have to check three different emails. I already hardly check one of them - and besides, I figure I'll get spam mail if my real name is in the email's name. And I would really be angry if people were judging me by my email. I know, in this world, first impressions can mean everything, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.)

- Attend extra classes outside of school (my mother insists that a lot of other people are taking them and I have to in order to keep up. But I don't like the idea of that either, because it feels like I'm using money in order to get ahead in school. Just because other people are doing it doesn't mean it's right. Well, I suppose I may be the only one who has such warped and illogical morals.)

- Stop wasting time on the Internet (that's something I intend to work on myself. For instance, I am planning to quit Crunchyroll. Maybe not completely. I might come back once in a while, but I will probably stop visiting on a regular basis. I've already started to think of my "farewell" message. It's painful for me to leave something behind, but not as much as I would have thought a few months ago. It's time to move on. I no longer want to be chained to it.)

And I don't really know what to expect of life in high school. Back when school was still in session, all of us 8th graders went over to the high school campus (it's pretty much across the street, so it's nearby) and listened to some people talk about various parts of the school. They encouraged us to join clubs and participate in leadership activities and whatnot. Near the beginning of the session, the students said, "Well, I bet you think from what your siblings and friends have told you that it's all about studying." Then they paused, and added, "Well, it is sort of like that..."

I certainly hope not. In this country, what with some of the best universities being located here (Harvard, Stanford, Yale, Princeton, MIT, UC Berkeley, UC LA, Brown, Cornell, Columbia, Dartmouth, Pomona, Northwestern...), the competition gets too fierce. If you ask me, it's like in middle school they're preparing you for high school, and then in high school they're preparing you for college, and then in college you're being prepared for...Your job? The rest of your life? I'm not really sure. (As for when you've got yourself a steady job, I think you're just waiting for retirement. XD) I have heard that some of my fellow students have been taking classes during the summer, such as Geometry, so that perhaps they can move up a level in math and will not have to take Geometry in high school. (I don't see the need to rush. Why not take it easy? You should be able to take Calculus by your senior year if you just go the grade level route.)

Well, I'm sure there's a lot more to high school than just studying for tests all the time. (It's not like I study as much as I should anyways, since I often think to myself, "Eh, I'll probably end up studying something that isn't on the test. I'll be wasting my time.") But I have no idea what everything else is like either. I've looked at the school lunch menu and read the policy, but what does that really tell me about the people there? How can I know what I've read in novels really reflects the high school I'll be attending? Will it be similar to middle school or a whole different universe? I guess the only thing that can be done is to experience it for myself. I am no longer afraid, or at least less so than before. But I'm not completely looking forward to it, either.

Labels: change, classes, college, crunchyroll, email, expectations, fear, first impression, future, high school, internet, judge, life, moral, preparation, quit, SAT, studying, teacher, uncertain

Today has been a chilly day. There are clouds in the sky for the first time in a week or so. I can't remember a year when there was such cold weather at this time in June.

Maybe this year is meant to be different. There was rain later in spring than normal. The reservoir is full and beautiful and reflective. But not everything is good about such change. Different weather is bad for some fruits. I heard that cherries were more expensive this year. And my mother worries that our persimmon trees will not yield much when the time comes to harvest their fruits because of the unusual weather.

But this chill, though it is June, makes me wonder if perhaps the summer will end early this year. My dad dismissed the idea, saying something like "The summer really starts with July 4th" which I don't really understand (I mean, only the USA celebrates Independence Day). There was already a warm spell back in May.

I read the book Sisters of the Sword: Journey Through Fire. The main character, Kimi, is driven by her desire for revenge, but she is told that she should not be filled with so much hate, that it will consume her and lead to her defeat. But in the book I am Apache, revenge seems to be embraced, as warriors set out to avenge their loved ones, who were killed by Mexicans in a surprise attack. I've heard the phrase "revenge is sweet", but is it really? If you kill someone, your hands will be sullied by the blood, and you may forever live with the guilt. And it would not bring back the people that you have lost. But perhaps you must kill someone for the sake of the future and of other innocent people - if you don't kill the person, it is not far-fetched to think he or she will go on to take more lives.

I've also been watching an anime; the name is Ef: A Tale of Melodies. It is a disturbing story, but at the same time it also intrigues me. One of the characters said that he wondered why a person would be born in the first place if they would die. He said that there isn't any point in starting fights that you know you will lose.

But I think that because we are alive, there must be something out there for us to accomplish. I don't think life is meaningless just because we know it will come to an end, for some sooner than others. We still think of things that are temporary as important, like youth, passion, friendship, and dreams. It's up to us to make these things permanent. If two friends swear to be BFFs and support each other when times are rough, then the promise is not broken.

As I am now, I am weak. I don't have thick skin, so the words of people pierce me more deeply than any physical injury. But I still want to become strong. I'll fight every day, even if it's an uphill battle, even if I die and am forgotten. I am alive, so I'll do what I can. There are days when I'm lost in a sea of misery. Days when who I am and who people think I am are different; days when what I want to do and what I need to do are unbearably far apart. But I'll fight on. Even if I'll die trying.

Labels: ability, books, death, different, dream, ef a tale of melodies, fruit, I am apache, journey through fire, life, purpose, reservoir, revenge, sisters of the sword, strength, summer, temporary, weather

That's a phrase that I saw in the book The Heights, the Depths, and Everything in Between by Sally Nemeth. And I thought it was really very true.

Life can give a person a lot of happiness, but also a lot of pain. If we didn't have the good times to keep us up, the sorrow in our lives would take over. There are still things that I've done in the past that continue to haunt me. If I didn't have good memories that I could recall, I don't know how I could keep from being swallowed.

My mom says that she likes to watch funny dramas so she can have something to laugh about. I find her interest in watching dramas rather amusing. She checked out this book from the library about a guy named Jerry in Australia. (There was a picture of him visiting the Twelve Apostles, which are these rocks in the ocean - unfortunately there are no longer twelve of them - which I had visited myself last summer)

My parents also seem to know about Super Junior. And then my mom said she knew about one of the guys from SS501 and how he was in Boys over Flowers or something like that. My dad, on the other hand, for a short time, kept mentioning someone called Angela Baby.

There really aren't that many differences between teenagers and middle-aged people. Both of them like...
- Asian dramas
- Social networking sites (Facebook, Kaixin, etc.)
- Being selfish

In fact, I wonder if that means that adults are immature or if that teenagers are actually middle-aged in their mindset.

Well, my mom had said that the older you get, the more you recede and become more childlike...Like slot machines, for instance. They have bright, cute pictures (cherries, bananas, diamonds, etc.) and make amusing noises. In a way they are like toys. No, I take that back - they ARE toys. Toys that take your money. XD

I've been watching an anime called Special A the past few days, and it's been pretty good. But it has a lot of similarities to Skip Beat, which I have also watched (and am currently reading the manga of).
Both...
- are in the Hana to Yume magazine
- have clueless heroines
- have heroines who are out to beat someone (Kyoko wants to top Sho, while Hikari wants to defeat Kei)
- have scenes where a character has a very evil aura
And so on. It's always possible to pick out similarities between stories. I guess it's because of the "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" idea. After Harry Potter came the Lightning Thief. I haven't read the Olympians but I've heard that both involve half-bloods and such things. So it seems to very common for people to borrow one another's ideas.

Labels: age, cry, drama, happiness, ideas, k-pop, laugh, life, memories, pain, similar, skip beat, special a, teenagers, the heights the depths and everything in between, twelve apostles

I just read a book called Sand Dollar Summer by Kimberly K. Jones. In the book, the main character had said that if there had been only a few seconds of difference, the driver of a car wouldn't have collided with her mom's car and caused an accident. And then they probably wouldn't have gone back to her mom's old home of Maine. And if she hadn't gone to Maine a lot of things wouldn't have happened. It's like the butterfly/dead grasshopper effect.

For some people, "every penny counts" is not something they believe in. When they drop a few coins on the ground, they don't bother to pick it up because they feel it's not worth the effort. (I pick up money when I see it, though. I like coins since they're all...metallic.)

I was a few seconds away from trauma and possibly death myself on Thursday. I was standing on the sidewalk waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street. Right as I was stepping out on the street a car to my left was trying to turn right...It almost crashed into the three people walking a bit ahead of me. The driver stopped quite suddenly to avoid rolling over us. If the driver had seen us pedestrians a little bit later, I might have witnessed a car accident. And I'd be standing in front of a gruesome scene, calling 911 in a panicked fashion. Or perhaps if I had walked forward a bit more I would've been in the accident too. Imagine, just a few seconds can make so big a difference...

Sometimes I don't know what to think. At times, life moves too quickly, but at other times it seems painstakingly slow. I think time, like what happens to you, depends on how you interpret it... I guess time is really just a concept, though we may "measure" it with clocks.

And then there is this theory that perhaps life is just a dream. That we've been dreaming a long time and we simply haven't woken up yet. The line between dreams and reality can easily be blurred. I was thinking of Yosemite one night before I slept and then I had a dream where I was there, except things were weird there (dreams, after all, can be rather unrealistic, as they don't make sense at all...). I can't remember the dream anymore. I wish that I could. But it's like water - it flows right out of your hand...

Labels: book, butterfly effect, car accident, coins, concept, dreams, every penny counts, life, reality, sand dollar summer, seconds, speed, time, truth, yosemite

Secret might not be the right word in this case, seeing as I see bees in public places like near the post office and at schools.

I just felt like using this title. I once read a book called The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. (Unfortunately, I can't quite remember how the ending went because it was a few years ago. I guess if you read a lot of books and if you get distracted by daily life, it's easy to forget the specifics of books you've read.) Apparently there's a movie now, too.

Some time back, I was at the place I usually spend my brunch break at school, when it seemed that a few people were looking at something. I heard someone say, "Oh no! You've killed it!" so I went over to investigate. It was a very weak-looking bee on the ground. It was still alive, but it was unable to fly and grew more and more pitiful until it couldn't even bother to twitch a leg. One of my friends and I tried to bring it back to life, and transported it using a stick to a leaf. It seemed like the bee was unable to hold on to the leaf - it slipped downward little by little, and we became fearful that it would tumble in to the bushes, never to be seen again. But it seemed to regain some semblance of life and started to move a little.

We tried to put it on a flowering tree, but the bee was not interested and fell onto the ground. Then another girl came along, seemingly out of nowhere, and picked up the bee with her hands. The bee seemed to be much more energetic upon being touched by a human and began to move actively. The girl started to walk off, so we followed her to the grass field, where she set the bee down on the grass.

Today I came across another bee, though it was not so close to death as the one I had seen previously. It was still moving along, though it seemed to also be unable to fly. My friends and I tried to get it interested in a flower, but the bee was not interested. It would turn and change directions every time we shoved the flowers in its face. We also tried leaves and sticks but the bee would fall off every time we tried to move it from one place to another. One time it seemed as though we had been successful, as the bee was finally displaying interest in the flowers, but then the bee fell off again. My friend insisted on handing whatever stick or leaf the bee was climbing on to me because she feared the bee would sting her. I think it's fine as long as the bee is unable to move quickly and if you avoid the rear end of the bee. After seeing the girl from before handle a bee, and as they seemed to get along quite well, I am less fearful of bees (at least, bees that are walking on the ground, not the very active bees flying about at the speed of light).

I am hoping to use such logic to convince my mother to let me have a dog. If you are not familiar with something, it is not unusual to be fearful of it. In fact, I was intimidated by dogs, but I've met several of them and realized there is nothing to worry about (except for perhaps abused dogs and dogs with rabies). I've petted dogs and been licked by them and they have not bitten me. Be sure to pay attention to body language of animals, though...If a dog is growling at you, it's best to keep away from it.

My mother hasn't really been around dogs, and she dislikes them. I think it also has to do with my grandma getting bitten by a dog. I wish my mother would give dogs a chance and spend some time with them. She might feel more kindly towards them if she'd only interact with them a little. (If she still dislikes dogs after that, then I can't hold it against her.) My mom continues to say that I can have a dog...When I'm a responsible adult. That will still be quite a few years away. And I'm not patient. Especially when I could die anytime and lose my chance forever.

Labels: bees, bite, book, chance, danger, death, dog, family, fear, ground, humans, insects, interact, life, safety, sting, stubborn, the secret life of bees, transportation, wish

Do not be alarmed. The sky is not falling. Your hair is not on fire. Your family and friends are all alive and well. The world is not ending.

The running that I am referring to here is not running for survival, but as part of a chosen lifestyle.

Judging from what I am hearing and seeing at my school, being a teacher can be a really great job. Sure, you might catch colds from the kids, have to deal with rude and overly talkative children, and complain about not being paid as much as you deserve, but teaching has its perks, too. You receive pension when you're retired, and you can go to school with your kids, if you're like my math teacher (his kids are in middle school right now, so he gets to go to school and leave school with them!). You also get to watch kids grow up and have a hand in how they turn out. It must be really cool seeing your students come back many years later, mature and successful.

The PE teachers have a nice time. They can be outside in the fresh air and have less grading to do than other teachers, but they are paid the same. They can exercise if they feel like it or they can just stand and order the kids to do something. And I don't think you would normally have to work overtime. (My parents still do work at home after they get back at work. I think it's more lax if you're a PE teacher.)

I heard that one of the PE teachers injured his Achilles tendon and it was driving him crazy because he couldn't run. I'm very fearful of getting my Achilles tendon hurt because of how important it is - you could be out for a year, depending on how bad the injury is. It's pretty important in walking and running. It was already bad enough those times I sprained my ankle and kept getting left behind when I tried to run in PE.

I just really wish I could live the active lifestyle. Even the non PE teachers have the chance to pursue athletic hobbies. One time, during PE class, I saw my history teacher jogging on the track. Maybe it was his prep period and he didn't have anything to do so he decided to enjoy the nice weather. I wish I could be as lucky as him, doing a job that I like and also doing one of my hobbies at work.

I am sad about going to high school because I don't think I'll be able to take PE every year. I know I will take it for at least two years, one time in 9th grade, and the other not determined yet. I really want to take PE every year because I fear I will not exercise enough without it. But I don't know if I can. We can only take a certain amount of classes. And it really saddens me.

Labels: achilles tendon, classes, family, health, high school, hobbies, injury, jealousy, job, life, lifestyle, mature, overtime, PE class, pros and cons, running, school, teacher, time, wish

Have you ever heard of that TV show called Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader? I think I've watched it once or twice, not very much, but enough to get the gist of it. It's a game show, where a person tries to answer questions to win money. Sometimes the contestant asks for help from one of the fifth graders present. I used to be shocked by how little the contestants seemed to know. Like how they didn't know the epidermis was the outermost layer of skin.

But then again, I, having been quite a bit younger than those adults at the time, had learned the facts more recently, and since they were still fresh on my mind, I could recall them easily. Adults cannot remember all that much of what they learned when they were younger, except maybe the subject they teach if they are a teacher. My parents weren't even taught that much biology (there was more focus on physics and chemistry). And it's hard for me to talk to them about science because they learned the terms for things in Chinese, whereas I only know the English words. Well, anyways, there's no guarantee that they remember any history they learned. They still know how to do math, but they use it in their jobs (and in daily life - there is always that stress on "Math is important!") and I make them help me with hard homework problems, which are probably the main reasons for that.

I wonder if all these years of going to school are really worthwhile, then. If we don't remember much of it later on, what use is it to us? Knowledge is power, but if we lose that knowledge, has it not gone to waste? Or is it worth it to go school for other things, like the memories and friends we make? And yet at the same time it can be painful, when friends drift apart or fight and never make up, when friends move away, when you have difficulties in academics or in PE that you can't seem to overcome. When you have a teacher who seems to have a personal grudge against you. (Some of these have not happened to me. But I have drifted apart from friends. And many of my friends have moved away. I am lucky in being able to maintain contact with some of them. But I fear I might never see others ever again, except by some chance encounter. And what if I didn't recognize them? Because we had changed so much in our time apart?)

We still go to school anyways. (It is required by law, so I suppose it isn't much of a choice, but nevertheless...) We still take the good together with the bad. A few people do lose faith, lose hope, want to give up, try to end their lives so they can find an end to it all, have a chance at a fresh start. But as I heard in a school performance about puberty, "Suicide is a permanent solution to what may be only a temporary problem." And I suppose we all still have to keep struggling, keep living, reach out for the things we want, despite all those things that stand in the way, make you experience all the emotions you wished you would never feel again. I think it's something amazing, how there are still little things - and big things - that make it all worth it, that we can all bear our burdens for the sake of something precious.

I am getting awfully sidetracked. But then, that's not necessarily a bad thing. My history teacher was rambling about something that wasn't necessarily related to history, and then a student raised his hand to ask a question. The teacher said with a humph, "Great. You shouldn't interrupt me when I go off on a tangent. Now I feel like teaching again." At this point, we all groaned, since we preferred hearing interesting stories to getting an education. (I mean, hearing stories is a kind of education too, an education in life instead of just in academics.)

We didn't have much to do in science class at the end of the day, so a student said, "Hey, do you want to play Stump the Science Teacher"? The teacher asked how it was played. The student said that it was his goal to ask a question about any kind of science that the teacher would be unable to answer. He asked, "What is cement made up of?" The teacher said, "Well...What kind of cement are you talking about? Different grades of cement are used depending on the purpose. Do you mean our modern cement, or the kind that was made a long time ago in England?" and so on. I think it was more like the teacher stumped the student than the other way around.

Labels: are you smarter than a 5th grader, cement, change, daily, distraction, education, friends, game, life, loss, math, memory, pain, school, science, show, story, teacher, television, waste

The Call of the Wild is a book by Jack London that features a dog called Buck. I can't remember clearly whether I've read the book or not, but I think I might have. It was mentioned in the book Nothing But the Truth by Avi.

I haven't read much of Nothing But the Truth yet. What I do know is that the main character is a boy named Philip Malloy who is not very interested in language arts, and is rather disdainful towards The Call of the Wild. Indeed, he wrote something rather interesting as an answer to a test question. Here's a part from the book.

Question four: What is the significance of Jack London's choice in making Buck, the dog in The Call of the Wild, the focus of his novel? Is the dog meant to be symbolic? Explain your answer. Can people learn from this portrayal of a dog? Expand on these ideas.

Philip's answer: The significance of Buck in Jack London's novel The Call of the Wild is that Buck is symbolic of a cat. You might think that cats have nothing to do with the book, but that is the point. Dogs are willing to sit around and have writers write about them, which, in my personal opinion, makes them dumb. I think cats are smart. Cats don't like cold. A book that takes up so much time about a dog is pretty dumb. The book itself is a dog. That is what people can learn from Jack London's novel The Call of the Wild.

Although I find his response to the question amusing, it does show that he wasn't so serious about the book, and his teacher didn't find it funny at all. If I were to become a teacher, I suppose I might end up having to deal with students like him. I wonder, how would I grade students, if I were a teacher? Would I grade them strictly by set standards, or would I give them points for making me laugh?

Well, speaking of "What if", my teacher asked us an interesting question today. Here is the scenario.

- You are stranded in the desert with a total stranger. (You have never met them, you know nothing about them.)
- You have only enough water to keep one person alive (never mind how long for).
Your choice: Do you drink the water and save yourself, give it to the stranger and save him/her, or do you share the water and BOTH of you die?

Perhaps a person's answer to this question reflects their own values and personality.

I said that I would give all the water to the stranger. I have already seen many beautiful things, for I have traveled far and wide - I was even able to see the city of Sydney, my namesake. And I have seen small but beautiful things in my own hometown. I have also gotten to make friends (even if many of them have moved away, and it is hard to keep in contact, I still have memories, and I will cherish them). I have been able to learn to play instruments and learn to read and write and learn to laugh. I have already made some of my dreams reality. I still have goals I have not achieved, but I have already had so much. And I believe it is more than some people will ever get. If I give them the chance to live, perhaps then they can go on to do those things, to have some happiness.

One of my classmates said, "Well, what if the stranger is a criminal? Then would you want to save them?" I may be flattering myself by saying this, but I think perhaps if I gave them the water, then he/she would be touched by noble sacrifice, and would want to be a better person. He/she could go on to make changes in the world. I want to be able to inspire someone. (Though dying isn't the most ideal way of doing so, it is still a way.) And I can die knowing that I saved someone's life, protected the miracle that is the beating of our hearts.

Labels: avi, book, cat, choice, death, dog, dreams, hypothetical, inspire, laugh, life, memories, nothing but the truth, opinion, question, sacrifice, scenario, teacher, the call of the wild, water

The title of this post may confuse you. What I'm trying to do here is play on the phrase, "Like father, like son" or "Like mother, like daughter".

On Saturday, I had two piano recitals to attend. My piano teacher has a lot of students, so she has two recitals. Most students only perform in one recital, except for a few exceptions. In the afternoon, I was number 18 in the lineup and played the song Nocturne in F Minor, Op 55 No 1. I left for home after my performance so I could relax a bit and eat dinner before returning for the second recital. When I arrived back at the church (we always have our recitals at a certain church, I suppose you can rent it for performances, seeing as it has a piano), I saw some people coming out of the church and standing in the parking lot.

I saw two girls, and I think they were probably sisters. They were both wearing a jacket sort of thing and dresses. Also, both of them seemed to like swinging their legs around. One girl swung one of her legs back and forth, while the other girl did some movements that looked like kicks. o_o;; I suppose sisters behave alike. I think my mom and aunt are similar in ways too.

Sometimes I wonder what my sibling(s) would be like if I had any. Would my sibling, like me, favor my father's genes, or my mother's? Would my sibling be a mix of my parents? Or would he/she look like neither? What kind of interests and personality would he/she have? Would we get along? Would we fight all the time? Would we barely talk to each other?

As an only child, I think of how things could have different if I hadn't been an only child. People who do have siblings oftentimes think that it must be nice to be an only child. You don't have to share your toys, or if you're a younger child, you won't have to deal with getting hand-me-downs (well, unless they're from other relatives or something). And your parents' attention is focused on you, you, you. You are, however, your parents' only posterity, and their expectations rest on you solely (though I hear sometimes oldest siblings still feel the burden of being expected to do great things, at least in the case of someone I know). I'm just fortunate that my parents are not as driven as some parents. One of my classmates said her father threatened to disown her if she didn't get an A in math.

But sometimes, even if you're an only child, you might still feel like you're being compared to someone. And in that case it's even harder than being compared to a sibling. If you're compared to your siblings, at least you know what you're up against, but if you're being compared to an imaginary, perfect child, or to all other successful people in general, it's a lot harder.

I used to feel like I was being forced to be someone, to be "smart" and earn a lot of money, but after a while I began to realize the pressure mostly didn't come from my parents. Some of the pressure came from seeing other students and their ambitions, but in fact, I believe I have created some of the stress upon myself, too. I often seem to have an angel and demon on my shoulders - the angel says that I must stop getting distracted, and focus very seriously on my work - while the demon says, "Oh, just a few more minutes won't hurt. You have to have some fun." And then I end up in anguish for having cheated myself by not listening to the angel and not achieving my potential. When I am upset over a test score, it's not exactly the grade that really bothers me, but the feeling of having failed, and not done as much as I could have and should have.

Well, back to the topic of being an only child...This may vary from person to person, depending on personality and a person's experiences, but I think only children are probably more likely to get lonely. I personally feel like I might be closer to or more reliant on my parents, as they are the only real family I have (I do have grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, but I don't see them much), and so I feel the absence of their presence more deeply. (Sometimes I even thought I wanted to die at the same time as my parents or before them so that I wouldn't need to feel the pain from their deaths.) I wonder if this is just one of life's many hurdles. After all, no one ever said life was easy (or did someone?).

Labels: absence, ambition, comparison, failure, family, life, like father like son, only child, perfection, piano, pressure, problem, recital, relatives, siblings, similar, sister, stress, theory

CORRECTION: Whoops, this is actually the 299th post. My bad.
This post marks 300 posts in this blog. It's amazing how much I've been able to write over time, and I'm glad that I got this far. I hope you've enjoyed the ride too.

I thought I had better back up some of my posts on my computer, in case Blogger ever blinks out of Internet existence or my blog accidentally gets deleted or something like that. I was looking through my posts and I realized I had used the title "Walking on the Moon" twice. Oopsy. I try not to ever repeat post names, but I unintentionally do so... I guess this is what happens when your quantity gets too big. As for the quality, I hope it has not gone down over time. When I look back at some of my posts, I think, "Oh, that was a fun time, but it feels like so long ago." There are some times when I don't have much to write about, like the post "Ansel Adams", when I was lacking for inspiration, and it was a drag to write the post. (I felt like I should write something, to prevent me getting rusty from less practice writing) And there are also times when I have so many things to write about, I'm churning out posts everyday and I feel like I'm on top of the world. I wonder if I can grasp that feeling again.

There's something I'm always wondering about, and that is my appetite. It seems that even if I eat too much at one time and get full, later on I'll feel hungry again. (I might not really be hungry, only as soon as I see something yummy, I feel the urge to eat it.) I guess I have to ration what I eat since it seems I will always get hungry at certain times regardless of how much I ate earlier. This is rather dangerous and makes me feel like a fish or something. I bet my fish would keep eating beyond their capacities if I gave them a ton of food. (That's why I tend to "starve" them by only giving them the bare minimum at feeding time. I don't even feed them daily.)

While I was walking home today, I overheard a girl talking about how her dog had vomited. (Sorry to give you that mental picture if you were eating) I kind of thought about how people really still behave a lot like animals. I've heard dogs can sneeze and cough too (not sure about cats), like us. Both animals and humans scratch themselves when they're itchy. And we certainly do vomit as well. In the end, no matter how humans try to control and dominate and become "civilized", they're still animals.

I remembered something today that I hadn't thought about in a long time. When I was in elementary school, I used to go the YMCA daycare on the campus after school, where I stayed until my parents came back from work and could pick me up. There were sometimes questions we could answer, for instance, since I mentioned itches earlier, there was once a question, "Do you scratch an itch or itch a scratch?" We would write our answer on a slip of paper, as well as our name, and put it in a plastic box. Then, one day, one of the people working at the YMCA (we called them "leaders"), would randomly pick out a piece of paper where the question was answered correctly (I believe it was sorted for correct answers first), and then the person or people chosen would get a prize of some sort. It feels like a long time ago now.

Even sixth grade seems far away. I still have plenty of memories, but they gradually become fuzzier over time, more surreal, more distant. After a while I end up thinking, "Those were great times. And I'll probably never have them again." I still enjoy things in my daily life. But it's rather clouded by all the knowledge of the world you get, because when you're young everything's fresh and simple, everything is clearly defined. The lines get blurred when you're older, unless you can still keep that innocence, and I long for those days when things were not complicated. I don't know if I can have that kind of life again. I think that you don't realize how nice it is to be young until you get older.

I feel worn out of having to deal with stresses and concerns, and that's why I want to retire. I'd thought that if I didn't have to work any longer, and be able to focus my attentions on the little things, things that I want to do but don't get around to doing, things would be easier. Maybe they would be, and maybe they wouldn't. I'd still like to see for myself. And I don't want to wait more than fifty years for it.

Labels: 300, appetite, blog, complicated, fish, food, innocence, inspiration, life, memories, old, retirement, scratch an itch, simplicity, stress, time, walking on the moon, winner, YMCA, youth

That kind of rhymes, considering the way that Yosemite is pronounced.

I've been wondering for a while now why Yosemite is pronounced the way it is. It's pronounced like "Yo-seh-mi-tee". I think that's rather misleading. On the lost and found sign for the Yosemite trip, Yosemite was misspelled "Yosemity". So wouldn't it make more sense to pronounce the name "Yo-seh-mee-teh"? But I suppose what makes sense isn't necessary how things work out.

While I was at Yosemite, I led a very different lifestyle from what I live at home. I spent much more time outside moving around. I almost always wore multiple layers to keep myself warm (except for the times that I became hot from hiking and skiing). I had to get used to having a heavy backpack on my back (I know you're not supposed to pack a lot, but I brought anything I thought I might need, like extra socks, a rain poncho, and gaiters - I never even used the gaiters), since usually I use a roller backpack. I had to adjust to having little sleep and to constantly having dry skin. (But some of my skin problems weren't as bad at Yosemite. My mom says it was because I took short, cold showers, which is better for your health, not like the warm, long ones I take at home)

And all this exercise was a good thing. It helped me build more strength, and I was surprised at how long I lasted, even if I wasn't a fast hiker. It's weird, but I had a different sort of appetite at Yosemite than I have back home. At home I get hungry quite often and I end up eating too much (better keep me away from the almond crunch!), but at Yosemite I sometimes lose my appetite, while at other times I am just moderately hungry, and don't eat very much, but it's enough. And I had to eat celery, which I never ate back home (it's not too bad, I guess, I always thought it must be terrible since people eat it with PEANUT BUTTER and I'm allergic to that). All this exercise made me lose some weight and made me feel better about myself since I could eat more and know I would burn it off, so I wouldn't have to worry about rationing myself (which I've been doing unsuccessfully, I always end up with too much food in one way or another. Eating is something of comfort, after all).

When I got back home, I realized how little exercise I do in comparison. In Yosemite, we might stop once in a while, but other than that we spend a lot of time standing or walking or climbing up something. At home, I am indoors a lot, sitting down, doing some work that requires me to stare closely at something, rather than getting natural light, which is better for my retina or something like that (I can't say I know the specifics about eyes, so don't ask me). And I actually eat more at home, or at least it feels like that. I wish I could always live the kind of lifestyle I had in Yosemite, being active, and being in the outdoors. That's where we are all supposed to be, but us humans have built walls around ourselves, put roofs over our heads, surrounded ourselves with technology to make our lives easier. In some ways this is good and in others it is quite saddening.

I hope that I never forget the experiences I had at Yosemite. I think it may have been one of the only times I ever really got close to nature. One day, when we were hiking at nighttime, a chaperone told us all to turn off our flashlights, be quiet, and stand still. We looked up at the sky, and it was amazing. The sky was really dark, and it was speckled with beautiful white stars. I have never seen so many stars at one time in my life, because in the town where I live, you can't see so many of them (unless you go out late at night, which I don't; in Yosemite it was only maybe 9 pm when you could see all those stars). Humans have affected the world so much that it becomes harder to see stars, but at least now I know there are still havens, still precious places where you can see night the way it is supposed to be seen.

I'd like to get a telescope. With one, I could take a much closer look at the night skies. I have heard that there are times when you can see other planets, such as Venus, and I want to try that. And there's eclipses, too; I didn't pay all much attention to them in the past. But now I think I'd like to see one sometime.

There are so many marvelous spectacles I have yet to witness in the world. I wonder if I will ever get the chance to see them all. I once heard that there were two people who were hospitalized because of problems with their noses. One had his/her problem fixed, and left the hospital. The other had some sort of terminal illness, so he/she traveled and did things that the other person didn't do (and probably never would). Sometimes you have to realize how little time you really have left on the Earth to make full use of it.

Labels: appetite, backpack, change, eating, health, humans, indoor, life, lifestyle, nature, night, outdoor, pronunciation, shower, skin, sky, stars, time, weight, yosemite

The title is inspired by a song by the Carpenters. Ever heard of that band? It's made up of two people, two siblings. The brother is still alive, but sadly, the sister died.

Rain doesn't normally upset me, and though I dislike Mondays, usually that won't depress me too much either. But last Monday wasn't an easy day, and it was a rainy day, so I thought it would make sense to use this title.

This past week, I've been gone on a school trip to Yosemite National Park, so I haven't been able to write anything. On Sunday morning, I boarded a bus headed to Yosemite. It's a pretty long drive there, probably four hours or more. I took a carsick pill called Dramamine to help me out with the carsickness.

I wonder if medicine really does work or not. Sometimes it's just people believe something will help them, and because of the positive feeling, their health seems to improve. I'm not sure whether medicine does any good or if it's only the "placebo effect". Perhaps the world may never know (like that thing about "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?).

Once I was at Yosemite, I had to adjust to a lot of things that I wasn't used to. For instance, dinner for me was at 5:05 pm, and breakfast at 7:05 am. I usually have breakfast not long from 8 am and I have dinner at around 7 pm. And I had to sleep with a sleeping bag, which I wasn't accustomed to, because I have never been camping. (Which is good - I don't think I could put up with going to the bathroom in the Great Outdoors for long XD) But the sleeping bag wasn't too bad, it was actually kind of cozy. It got too hot, though, when the heater was on in my cabin.

I kind of expected it to be like science camp. At science camp, you didn't need an alarm clock because someone would wake you up if you didn't get up on your own. There was a bathroom that was fairly clean and it was conveniently located, so you wouldn't have to get up in the night, wake someone up, and walk through the snow or melting puddles. You wouldn't hike so much that you'd be really tired and you'd always have your time managed well for you. And you didn't need to get a lot of gear, not even hiking boots were required.

Yosemite is sort of similar, but sort of not. The food is in buffet form (that's nice, since I can just a get a little to try something and see if I like it first). You're expected to meet up with people at a certain time (though there's almost always someone missing or late). You have to manage your own time to be able to complete a journal, take showers, and get enough sleep. And there is a lot of hiking and climbing and other physical activity.

Monday was a hard day for me. I am a special case since my cabin mates are in a different rotation than I am (meaning that they had different meal times and different evening programs). I was really stressed waiting for them in my cabin, and I kept thinking that something horrible must've happened to them (I didn't realize back then that their evening program was later than mine). I was also annoyed about the cold showers and stinky bathroom. And it was really noisy at nighttime, making it hard to sleep. I got really homesick, thinking of my parents and comfort and having a dependable routine. And this homesickness didn't really go away. During science camp I was having such a blast that I didn't think of my home much.

On Monday, there were many kinds of weather. We had rain, then hail, and then even snow. The snow is beautiful, that's for sure. But it was hard to appreciate when I was so worried and stressed. I wasn't able to relax until maybe about Wednesday or Thursday. By then I realized that I would be going home soon, and so I was in a much better mood. (Kind of funny how sometimes you have to be waiting for something to enjoy yourself.)

There were a lot of things I didn't like about the trip, but there were things that made it better, too. Things that made me dry my tears and smile and put my best foot forward. Being outdoors was great. I didn't really hike much or even go outside that much before. I thought I'd be tired easily from hiking. It's true that I was usually pretty worn out from lugging around a heavy backpack (too used to the roller backpack by now) but I wasn't lagging too horribly behind, either. And seeing the mountains and waterfalls and getting the occasionally opportunity to sit by myself and think was calming for me. I also got to try so many new things, like eating hummus (never tried it before, but it wasn't bad), eating celery (also wasn't as bad as I thought), eating sunbutter (yes, I'm eating lots of new things. Sunbutter is like peanut butter but made from sunflower seeds), and going cross-country skiing... I'm really starting to realize that I don't need to have limits, boundaries, things holding me back. I can do my best and achieve so much more. I just have to be openminded and live life to the fullest. After all, even if you have more than one life, you'll never remember the past ones, so of course you have to do everything that you can.

Oh, and going on the trip makes you appreciate home. Many of us longed for warm showers. I also heard some students saying they missed eating rice (they had rice at the buffet, but it was like fried rice and things like that. No sushi, dumplings, or miso soup, that's for sure). I believe that going to Yosemite was a good experience for me, even if I still feel there would've have been a lot of room for improvement. (I heard there was a bathroom with ants in it.) It's something you'll remember forever, after all.

Labels: backpack, effort, food, hiking, home, homesick, life, monday, new experience, placebo, problem, rain, rainy days and mondays, sleeping bag, song, the carpenters, tootsie, trip, weather, yosemite

Today's homework was to write a poem about ourselves. The poem started and ended with "I am -namegoeshere-." In the poem there are eight other lines. Four of those lines are true things about ourselves and the other four are lies. I thought it was interesting that my teacher wanted us to write lies about ourselves. Was it for fun, so we could pick out which parts were right and which parts were false?

I've never been much of a poet myself, I'm afraid. When I was young I tried my hand at writing a poem. I think I still have it tucked away in a notebook. Now that I look back at it, the poem seems rather meaningless and rough. I guess that things always look different when time passes, though. Drawings that seemed good to me when I was younger just look funny when I get older. And seeing pictures of myself a few years ago, I think, "Wow, I looked really different then." (But after a while I always looked similar in the pictures. I suppose it means I'm getting old.)

Sometimes I wonder if it's better to always tell the truth or if it's okay to lie sometimes. Most of the time telling the truth is the better thing to do - it shows you have integrity, and people who lie tend to get found out anyways (unless they're good at lying. I mean, I heard all the best thieves are never caught).

But telling the truth can be a harsh thing. Sometimes this happens to me, or I see it with other people... A person asks their friends, "Do you like my ____?" or says, "My drawing is so terrible!" And their friends would just say they liked it or that their drawing was bad right away. I wonder if they really mean it or if they're like me...Sometimes, even if I don't really think as highly of something as the person asking me does, I just say "It's nice" or something like that anyways. I figure they'd be offended if I say "I'm not really that fond of it." I don't want to hurt their feelings, so I just pick the safe choice and pretend.

But how much longer can this go on? How much longer until it all unravels? I can't always live my life like this, can I? And yet speaking my mind could be costly too. I don't know what I would rather do.

There's also a different situation, one I haven't come across yet, but still a possible one. Say there is a person who actually has some health problems. In fact, they have a terminal illness, but they don't know it - but some people close to them know. The person would become depressed and listless if they found out about it, but as long as they think they're not going to die soon they are able to live their life happily and blithely. Do you think they should know because they deserve to know their own fate? Or should the truth be hidden from the person so they can enjoy what life they have left?

Anyways, on to a different topic... Today in PE class, my PE teacher spoke to us about a girl who has one of the school records for triple jump. She is still in the school (in fact, she is in my grade). The teacher said, "I've heard a few people suggesting she's been using steroids. That's not true at all. She trains really hard every day with a professional coach, and worked to make her legs and body strong. Don't say that she's been cheating and taking the easy way out by using steroids. She has really good work ethic. I think people who are saying that she uses steroids are just jealous. And yeah, it makes sense to be jealous, but you can just say, 'Wow, she's good.' You don't need to mention steroids."

There are some athletes out there, such as a few baseball players, who use steroids. Some folks think that athletes who have used steroids should be taken out of the Hall of Fame or whatever records they got into. My PE teacher had an idea for it...He said he should leave both the records of people who used steroids and those who didn't in the records, but that the people who used steroids would get a * next to their name. I think that's a pretty good idea. That way everyone will get credit, but people who decided to use steroids would have some shame. I think it's only fair. If you do something dishonorable, you have to pay the consequences. (I believe in poetic justice. But it's not always dealt like that in life.)

Labels: athlete, baseball, death, fate, friends, happiness, innocence, justice, lie, life, opinion, PE class, picture, poem, pretend, record, steroids, thief, time, truth

This is a valuable lesson that I learned today from my teacher. It ought to be the new Golden Rule. (Well, not really. I'm not all that fond of cars because I get carsick. But that's besides the point.)

More than ten years ago, a young man (my teacher) was going to a place called Jake's to meet up with his friends. He was sitting on the roof of his car when a Ferrari came into the parking lot. Back then, a Ferrari was quite expensive (and still is), $150,000 or something. My teacher and his friends stared at the car, drooling. It was red and sleek, and was shiny, like it was polished often (which is quite a feat, since it's harder for things to look shiny in the nighttime than in the daytime). They couldn't decide whether to go inside Jake's or not. They were hungry, but if they went inside, they wouldn't be able to see the Ferrari anymore. After a few minutes, an old lady stepped out of the car.

"Hello, boys," said the lady.
"........Uh, hello," said my teacher and his friends.
"My husband died recently. I'm getting ready to sell it," remarked the old lady (regarding the Ferrari).
"Oh, what, really?!" At this point, my teacher is rummaging in his pockets for money (though he wouldn't be able to afford the Ferrari anyways).

Later, the old lady gets back into the car. She accelerates a little.
"Awww..." go the boys/young men/whatever you call them. (Just like a kitten's purr, so says my teacher)
Accelerated again. "Ohhhh...."
Went in reverse. "Ooohhh..."
My teacher offers, "Will you be alright? I'll drive you home." (Doesn't matter to him that he'd have to walk home after all, he just wants to be in a Ferrari, something he probably never got to do before)
"Nah, I'll be fine." The old lady drove off...Out of my teacher's life forever.

My teacher then said to us, "Don't let widows wreck nice cars. And treat your car nicely."

Anyways, speaking of cars, I was given some advice about how to skimp on car insurance. You have to pay more for car insurance if you get into lots of accidents. I was told that you should get your license when you're sixteen, and then wait two years or something until you actually get a car. Then when you get car insurance it'll look like you're a safe driver because you didn't get into any accidents for two years. (Obviously, if the folks who work for insurance companies figure this out, they might get suspicious, but oh well. Thought I'd let you know.)

I've always complained about not having life insurance to my parents, but in reality, it's probably better that I don't have it. For one thing, I'm young, so the chances of my dying are lower than those for an older person. And also, some people can't use money that results of a death. (Though there are quite a few people who say, "Well, money is money!" and there are even those who kill people on purpose to get ahold of inheritance money) I wonder if my parents would be willing to spend money they received if I was insured and I died. Would it pain them too much to use money which my life had been the price for? And if you had a dog, for instance, and it died, and you got money as compensation, would you be too pained by the loss of your dog to touch the money? Or would you move on, and put the money to good use?

While I'm on the topic of cash, my school district often doesn't have enough money. One of my teachers complained, "They want us to teach differently, in the 21st century, but they don't give us the money to do it. In fact, they take away money." I know it can't really be helped, because California is a state in debt (as is the whole US of A), but it's annoying. Most of the people who make decisions are not students anymore themselves, so it doesn't really matter to them if they take away the money for schools, even if children are the future. (Yeah, I know, school is mostly based on memorization anyways, but still. It's worthwhile to go to school.) If only, if only, there was something that could be done about it. Money is what makes the world go round but it is also what stops it from going round. D:

Labels: california, car, death, debt, ferrari, future, inheritance, insurance, jake's, life, money, problem, school, story, united states of america, world

This has nothing to do with how children used to quit school around the age of 12 and go work in mills, where they would get into some tragic accident, like being maimed by a machine gone rogue. (I'm glad to see child labor is forbidden now. However, I wanted to work during the summer, so I can save up cash, but was never able to because I was too young.) Instead, the children are the very same people I go to school with.

I am always really paranoid when we're playing sports in PE. I've had bad luck over the years, what with various projectiles hitting me in the head. The first time I remember was back in 1st grade. Ironically, it happened while I was trying to do something good. I saw a ball that had rolled under a bush and was stooping to pull it out when a football came from behind and hit me in the head.

I can't remember much of the other incidents, except for the ones in middle school. I was played lacrosse, which is one of my favorite sports, actually, and I got whacked in the face with a ball. That was bad enough, but in the same day I was also hit in the leg. During this school year, we were playing volleyball and a volleyball that had strayed from a different court hit me in the head. (As far as I know I have not gotten a concussion from all the pounding my head has received, but I could've lost some brain cells. Terrible.)

I still can't really figure out how to hit a volleyball correctly. The few times that I successfully hit it, I usually hit it around my wrist area, which makes it sore and red. I am afraid I will injure myself if this keeps up. What part am I supposed to use to hit the volleyball? (Basketball is easier for me than this, at least I can catch the ball, even if that makes my hands dry and dusty.)

For some reason, whenever I am in a certain PE teacher's class, I always get injured once. When I had him in 7th grade, I twisted my ankle because I was rushing while doing warm-up exercises, and then I tripped and landed rather awkwardly. (You would think I would have learned my lesson, but I still rush when warming up. Not a good idea, so I advise you "don't try this at home".) The other time I was injured was last trimester, when I was trying to get up the stairs quickly but didn't lift my leg high enough on a step and fell, scraping my knee. I didn't feel any pain at first, so I didn't realize it was bleeding until it was pointed out to me. It started to sting after a while when I was putting water on it. It kept on bleeding, which is disturbing. Eventually I went off to get a bandage so it would stop bleeding.

I guess I'm not doing as badly as others, though. One day, at brunch, I noticed my current PE teacher pushing a kid in a wheelchair to the school office. A teacher called out to him, "Stop hurting the kids!" in a joking manner. However, I suspect a lot of people get injured in his class. We used to have two students who were in some way or another unable to do certain activities. One of the students isn't in the class anymore, though the other still is, but she does exercises with a medicine ball.

Despite my paranoid tendencies, I've always dreamed of having an exciting life, like living in a new place, or living a life fraught with danger, such as going sky diving often or rounding up mustangs (...are there still any mustangs out there?). I'd like to try going in a hot air balloon someday or going surfing. There's a lot of things I want to do, and so I feel frustrated at times because I believe that my life isn't thrilling enough. And at other times, I am too lazy and I just like it the way it is. I wonder if I might have multiple personalities or if it simply depends on my mood. (For instance, I am overall more of a pessimist than an optimist, though I can be either. If I have just suffered from many bad scores in a row in school, then I'll be pessimistic, but after a while I start to have hope again, and become more optimistic. After all, I really hate it when people act like all hope is lost, so I would be a hypocrite if I acted like that myself, so my consciousness gives me "pep talks".)

I crave some more ordinary freedoms, too, like being allowed to wander in the neighborhood by myself. I can only go outside for a short distance (like maybe across a street or two) and for a short time without supervision. When I was young, I always thought my parents were overprotective. I wasn't allowed to walk home until 7th grade and even then I always walked with my grandma (and later my acquaintance/friend/neighbor/companion? I can't come up with the right term). I felt that I was deprived of things, and I still am not allowed to ride a bike home. Although my parents' grip on me slackens over time as I supposedly mature (who knows if I really do? D: ), riding a bike home is still something I am not supposed to do. (But then again, it's also inconvenient. I would have to put my bike in the car when my parents drive me to school; Besides, I'm not really a great biker, even if I can ride a bike. I fell of my bike recently because I saw someone else coming and panicked, trying to give them space. And when low branches stick out over the sidewalk, I panic, and try to swerve, but then I fall off)

I once read an article in the Time magazine about how parents are really overprotective nowadays. The percentage of students walking or biking to school dropped, despite the fact that crime rates have gone down, so it's safer nowadays. And some parents are really focused on what's "best" for their children, which could mean making them study a lot, and asking schools to have more classes and less free time (sometimes this means not having as much PE, too, hence higher rates of obesity). Even though parents care a lot about their kids, it seems it can sometimes harm them rather than helping them. Will you really be fine when you are independent if you are used to being taken care of by my your mother and father? (Not a good thing if you run home every week to make them do your laundry for you. Of course, there might be shared washing machines available for you to use) Is keeping a tight leash on people good for their lives or will it stunt their growth? The key is to find the right balance between the two. To know when to let your kids decide for themselves (and maybe learn the hard way, but that's life) and when you should direct them...It's a tough judgment call.

Labels: bike, blood, child cruelty, danger, head, injury, job, life, optimism, overprotective, parents, pessimism, physical education, sports, success, time, walk

Today, my mom said that I should put my drawings somewhere so I don't lose them. I definitely ought to, because I once had this great drawing of Lucario (well, I just looked at the Pokemon: Lucario and the Mystery of Mew movie's DVD cover, and copied it, but whatever) and then I lost it! I was really mad over it. Maybe someday I'll find it again, though. Sometimes I do rediscover my old things.

I used to keep a binder with my drawings. I was 9 years old at the time, so the pictures are not so great. (In fact, some of my pictures from before I was 9 are there. They are silly, but they're amusing to look at) It's been so long since I updated that binder. A few of my dad's drawings are in there, too. He draws really good, even if he was only drawing copies of what was in my "How to Draw Manga" book that I ordered from the Scholastic book catalog one year. I guess both of us are better at imitating other people's art than drawing our own. That's worrisome, because I don't want to be arrested for violating copyrights or something like that.

Not that I'm not interesting in going to jail. To me, jail is similar to school, except they have higher fences. I mean, I heard we have the same meal program. That's not fair, because the students committed crimes (uh...as far as I know, at least) but then, criminals are still people and have rights (though some might be a bit kooky). I heard they serve pizza in jail. That's not so bad, is it? But my parents say I am silly for being curious about going to jail because people beat each other up and it can be quite dangerous. Plus, I heard that prisons in my state are getting overcrowded, and one time there was a riot at jail and some buildings were destroyed and people were injured, so I guess I should find a place with a nice jail. Sydney, Australia used to be where the British sent criminals, I think, and there is still an old prison (not in use anymore, I believe) on a very small island in Sydney Harbor... It must've been the jail with the prettiest view in the world.

Back to the topic, though, before I get sidetracked (as usual! I don't really care if I get sidetracked personally, but it might confuse you, the reader). I also dug out my cello the other day. It's not actually my own cello - it was borrowed from a friend of my mom's. My mom's friend's son (well, one of them) wanted to be in Advanced Orchestra or something along those lines, so he took lessons out of school in cello, but he still couldn't give in, so I suppose he gave up and no one was using the cello. So I took it since at the time I was still taking orchestra. I haven't touched it for a very long time so the bow looks ruined, and the strings are really out of tune. Apparently, depending on the temperature, the strings get loose or tight, so you have to tune string instruments every day. Well, the cello itself is shiny still but it's hard to use it since there aren't notches in the bridge for the strings, so if you're not careful the strings at the very sides could actually fall off the bridge, and then you would to have to put them back on. Very annoying, and scary too. I've been urged to take cello again but I'm not sure if I should yet. For one thing, I am afraid to find out whether I even know how to play reasonably well anymore. And I only did take Beginning Orchestra, so although I have knowledge of music (from playing piano all these years), would I still be able to do vibrato, or hold the bow properly?

I think someday I have to get over that fear. I don't know when that day will come for me. It could be fifty or sixty years from now, when I am retired for real (although I really want to retire, it's unlikely, like WHO WOULD PAY FOR MY EXPENSES? My dad says he will give me his money, but he wants to retire as well).

I'm an easily distracted person, and sometimes I start thinking, and old memories that I had forgotten for so long come back to me. (Thus the title for today's post.) For instance, my carseat. I used to always have to sit in one. It wasn't all that long ago. Maybe third grade or so... I think I started to sit without a carseat in maybe fourth grade? (Hey! Maybe that's why I started getting carsick! I didn't have a carseat any longer) I wonder where it is now. Is it in the garage? Or has it been given away? Sometimes I think it's so weird how I could forget about something that I had for so long. But then again, I guess people are always preoccupied with their current lives and don't have that much time to think about the past. It's kind of sad that way. Life is so rushed, and technology actually seems to be making it busier instead of less busy...

Labels: australia, binder, carseat, carsick, cello, copy, crime, drawing, fear, instrument, jail, life, lucario, memories, orchestra, overcrowding, pokemon, retirement, sydney

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