“You’re not gonna make it to 18,” she said.

Tomorrow, well in about ten and a half hours, I will be 18 years old. I will be considered legally an adult, no longer a child. Not that it matters much because I feel that I will always embrace the child in me; it’s how I am and always will be. I was scared, yesterday, last week, last month, because of all the things I thought I hadn’t got to experience. I’ve been feeling like my senior year is slowly slipping away from me as I’m trapped under all this work and all my (extremely time-consuming) commitments. I tell myself every week that I’ll get to spend some time with my friends, especially those I haven’t seen in months. It never happens and yes, it’s a mood-dampener… one could say my mood has been sopping wet for the last few months. (The new boyfriend might have something to do with this, but I definitely don’t blame him because he’s the best thing that’s happened to me this year.) All this moisture is from missing my friends, but what happens when I begin to miss my childhood? Will my mood just drown in a deep puddle of depression like most, if not all, of the adults I know who, it seems, are constantly mourning the loss? No. Not I.

I am proud of the things I have accomplished; this year, the last 17 of them, it has all been great fun. I’ve done 50% of the things people are not legally allowed to do until they turn 17.
 1. Go to a rated-R movie without an adult over 21 present.
 2. Be tried as an adult in court.

Thankfully, the 50% of things I can say I’ve done legally as a 17-year-old does not include the second item on the aforementioned list. I probably wouldn’t have made it to 18, as my mom predicted, because she would have killed me.

I think 18 brings about another list of new things to do. I won’t do all of them right away, but I want to make sure I do all of them by the time I’m 19. Wow, 19. I don’t even want to think about that number yet. Here are the things I can (not necessarily will) do before that happens.

  • Vote
  • Open a checking account
  • Stay out after 11 p.m.
  • Get a tattoo/piercing
  • Be drafted/enlist into the military
  • Serve on a jury (It sounds so fun, I don’t know why grown-ups dread it so much.)
  • File a lawsuit/be sued
  • Change your name
  • Buy spray paint
  • Work more hours
  • Go clubbing
  • Pawn something
  • Get married/divorced
  • Be on Jerry Springer
  • Buy a lottery ticket
  • Get a hotel room
  • Get a Costco membership (Gee Whilakers… I don’t even know how to spell that.)
  • Skydive or go bungee jumping
  • Sign legal documents/contracts
  • Gamble
  • Secure a loan
  • Finance a car
  • Buy insurance
  • Earn credit
  • Buy porn
  • Buy cigarettes
  • Go to a hookah bar
  • Work in an alcohol-serving establishment
  • Apply for a business license
  • Apply for a credit card
  • Go to/work in a strip club (Remember, I said I wouldn’t be doing all of these.)
  • Enter a contest
  • Write a check
  • Get utilities in your name
  • Lease/buy an apartment or house
  • Cash a savings bond
  • Buy nitrous oxide (Umm… I don’t even know for what I would use this.)
  • Rent a post office box

That may be all of them, but it probably isn’t. (Thanks to

I like to think that I feel at least somewhat differently after a birthday, when in reality I’ll be the same person tomorrow that I am right now, writing this. After I’ve considered all the cool things I’ll get to do, as well as all the cool things I will appreciate being able to do without actually doing them, the only sad thing I can come up with about 18 is that it’s the beginning of the years that start to matter less and less individually. There will only be a “major” birthday every 10 years, except 21, and instead of being happy that I’m turning 28, I’ll be sad and tell people I’m turning 22… Hopefully I’ll still look like I’m six years younger than my actual age, like my friends say I look now. Thanks, friends; I’m 12.

I haven’t even considered how my parents might be feeling right now. I wonder if they’re as anxious as I am. Or are they nervous? Terrified? When I brought it up last week he told me to “cut that s*** out,” probably referring to my growing older. All I can say to them at this moment, especially to my mother, is:

Mom, I WILL, in fact, make it to 18! Thank you very much…

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The beginning of the end.

I know these extra, irrelevant, random posts are just a form of procrastination from catching up on my ToDo List Posts, but I feel this one is necessary.It just occurred to me that tomorrow is my last first day of school. Well, that is, until college when I will have more important things to worry about: getting to know my roommate, getting used to the food, figuring out where my classes are, meeting new people, living in a new home away from my parents. I will never feel the same, simultaneous nervousness/excitement waking up at 6 a.m. after a three-month vacation with a new tan and a new wardrobe and new expectations. I already know most everyone I will see tomorrow, because they’re mostly the same people I’ve seen for the past four years, whereas in college, I will know little to no one and have to make all new friends. To be honest, I don’t know what gets everyone so riled up about the first day of school. Now that I’ve seen 12 first days, I know that there really isn’t anything to be excited about anymore. I already know all my teachers, where my classes are, and probably who I’ll sit with.

I guess it’s the fact that my mom won’t be watching me walk to the bus stop this year, or dropping me off at school. I’ll be driving myself to school in my own car and parking in the forbidden Senior Parking Lot. That might be what’s giving me the hebegebies. Maybe I’m just worried about starting this school year off on the right foot. Last year I actually made a mental note to step into the building with my right foot (for good juju, karma, etc.) but after exploring the possibilities of switching feet mid-step and falling flat on my face and then getting nervous about that, I ended up forgetting to do it all together. I suppose this year I could try again, because seniors are much more poised and confident and mature… yea right. I might feel a little different with each passing year, but whatever is changing it’s definitely not my maturity. I know I will eternally be a kid: heart, mind, and soul.

It used to worry me that my friends and I seem to be growing up so quickly, but I think it’s just our time. I don’t have regrets, I don’t wish I would have done anything differently (except maybe studying for a few tests to avoid some Cs in Earth Science, Chemistry, and Pre-Calculus), but I do wish I could have had more time. I suppose it never seems fair when it’s over. Otherwise Jim Croce wouldn’t have written a song that goes, “There never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them.” I am a little scared that with all my activities (being an SCA officer, school newspaper, volleyball, French Honor Society, a middle school leadership workshop, PLUS being in IB) my senior year will fly by and I’ll be graduating before I know it. I just hope that this year will be one to remember. I’ve found what I want to do and I hope that one year is enough time to do it.

Well, I don’t want to get into the deep sentimentality pertaining to my big day tomorrow because it will make me even more anxious. So goodnight to all of you school-bound or not tomorrow morning.

To those of you who are starting a new school year tomorrow, no matter what grade, start it off on the right foot.

Fave Month Evar in Lyfe?

Okay, so I know I should be doing my Extended Essay because I only have 2,437 words and it was due yesterday, BUT Sparknotes.com (which I wasn’t using to write my essay of course…. angelic face*) had a super tempting advertisement that I just had to click on. It led me to this article called August Is the Best Month so I used my incredibly valuable time to read it. You can probably guess, I loved it! It might be because it’s TWO something A.M. in the morning (Cool. Tautologies. I learned that word from the Department of Redundancy Department) and I’m super bored from Extended Essay nonsense, but I thought it was the most creative, fun, wonderful, witty, spirited, superb opinion article I’ve ever read in my whole life. Did I really admit that? I think I might be overly tired. Anyways. At least my grammar is correct- I hope. Because grammar is kinda important when writing an essay. The graders in Istanbul won’t be merciful to a “Hermann Hesse totally rocked that ending, like forreals” or “Siddhartha is a major babe!” Okay there’s no hope. I’m delirious. GAH, Back to the point!!

Dear Future Me,
Here is an awesome Idea! Post Something JUST like this, except BETTER. Pick a BETTER month and come up with ten.. no.. ELEVEN even BETTER reasons why that month is BETTER than August and then write about it during…no, BEFORE that month! You can definitely do it. Past You was counting on Me… You… I don’t think anything I say is going to make sense to Future Me.
Love, Past You.. Me?

P.S. Holy Cow. Delirious Past You.. Me just realized how much she uses Caps Lock when she’s tired/bored/months younger than You, I, Me, We are now, will be soon. GO CAPS LOCK. If you didn’t know already… It’s cruise control for cool. Thumbsupskies*

P.P.S. PLEASE. No more brainstorming until after You Me finishes her my Extended Essay.

P.P.P.S. Also, before the results of the Fave Month Evar in Lyfe competition there needs to be more updates on this superlong ToDo List. I have to fill in all my tens of thousands of daily readers who care. Well, tens… okay no, but there are at least 3 pretty much every day, sometimes I get like 12 on really random days for no reason and I don’t notice until a month later and I’m thinking to myself “I don’t know why because I only update this thing like 6 posts/month.” Okay, this is dumb. Back to work..

I think I forgot a citation!

Hi, this post is hot off the desk of a stressed-out student tonight as I am in the process of what seems to be a never-ending battle with IB. Yes, my Extended Essay, possibly the most time-consuming requirement of the IB Diploma, is due in approximately 55 hours. With my deadline approaching quickly, I’m sad to say that I, similar to my counterpart, Harry Haller of Steppenwolf, have progressed “disappointingly little in proportion to [my] great effort” (Casebeer 246). First, let me explain the nature of the Extended Essay and it’s significance to the IB student through Urban Dictionary, which has proven to be useful and accurate in the past.

The Extended Essay. You’re welcome to follow this link to the Urban Dictionary definition; however, I’ll also provide you with my own interpretation of the Extended Essay. Some necessary background information on my current circumstances include: It is midnight. I started working on this thing at 10 this morning. I only just now broke 1000 words.

The assignment from Hell, commonly known as the Extended Essay, is a mini-dissertation/research paper on any subject of a student’s choice ranging from Psychology to Math to History. The maximum word count is 4000, which means the minimum at roughly 10% less is 3600. It’s kind of a big deal. Like a Doctorate candidate prepares his/her dissertation with mentors who also grade it, the IB Diploma candidate has a mentor who grades his/her Extended Essay before sending it off to some scholar in Mauritius, an island West of Madagascar and just above the Tropic of Capricorn, who then ruthlessly tears the aforementioned essay paragraph from paragraph in effort to give the student the most objective (debatable) grade possible, which decides the outcome of that student’s entire life. If the literary works of Hermann Hesse happen to be the only pet peeve of the scholar in Mauritius and you receive a D, your only hope is that your combined grade on the TOK Essay and Presentation is an A so that you receive a measly 2 points toward your Diploma. (I’d also like to point out that no one would even know about Mauritius if not for the fact that it is home to some, most-likely bitter, person who decides the fate of some incredibly unlucky IB student.) I realize talk of the grading system and points and such is very confusing to the un-IB student, so I’ll put it into simpler terms. The Extended Essay determines my entire life hereto forward. Basically if I get a low-grade on my Extended Essay I can kiss all hopes of having a college education and, thus, a career goodbye. In the future, without financial stability I’ll have to resort to collecting Social Security at 25, but because Social Security is about to run out I might as well kill myself now before I have to stab my husband and only child so that I can eat the last package of Ramen Noodles.

I mean… the Extended Essay is a pretty big deal, but I think I might have exaggerated a little. Even if, by some chance, I don’t do well on my Extended Essay, or any of my IB exams for that matter, and don’t get the IB diploma, I’ll still be able to go to Virginia Tech because they’ll have already accepted me by the time I find out I didn’t even come close to getting the extra diploma. Realistically, the IB Program is only useful in the first three years of highschool. It shows colleges that I’m taking the most rigorous courses offered to a highschool student and that I’m serious about my education. They don’t have to know that I’m a failure until I’m making my bed in my new dorm room. At that point, what can they do? Nothing.

Honestly, I lied. I’m not stressed-out. Come Wednesday when I turn in this essay-on-steroids, I won’t be worried.

So, to all you IB kids working on your Extended Essay tonight. And to those of you who, like me, will be using every means necessary to stay awake Tuesday night (although I don’t endorse the use of caffeine). Let me remind you that the paper due Wednesday is only a rough draft. PLEASE chill out. You don’t want gray hair by the time your 19 or have a heart attack at 20.

Put things into perspective. It’s really not that big of a deal at all.

No Questions Asked (#45)

Last night I walked in 20 minutes after curfew soaking wet. I was literally dripping on the floor. After leaving the house with plans to meet my two friends at Skinny Dip (a frozen yogurt place), you would think coming home wet was unexpected and might be cause for alarm. This entrance, however, warranted no response from my parents. I got an “Oh, she’s home. We can go to bed now.” I even made a point to stay in the living room for a few minutes, walking in front of my dad watching TV. Nothing. Not one question as to why I was wet.

About to go into a “my parents don’t love me enough to notice something so blatantly obvious as walking in late and wet” panic, I texted the friends I had been with and one, who wasn’t there but knows me pretty well, to shock them with the fact I hadn’t gotten in trouble. In fact, it seemed to me they didn’t care at all. The text read, “Wow my mom had no idea. Wtf. My dad didn’t notice either. Great Parents. Really. I applaud them.” This was, of course, sarcasm. I could only imagine what kind of inattentive parents don’t notice when a perfectly dry child leaves for frozen yogurt and comes home wet. Surely, not my parents. Had I overestimated their ability to parent with absurd overprotectiveness all these years? I’m still in that stage when “My parents are the smartest people in the world!” turns into “I’m so much smarter than these clowns.”Could I be sure my parents weren’t unobservant potatoes for all my life and I just never realized? Maybe I got that from them.

The friend of mine who hadn’t been there when I got wet, but knew what happened replied, “Oh, well maybe you don’t look as wet as you should,” which was not likely, considering the trail of water from the front door to my room. He then went on to suggest, “or they’ve just come to expect there are certain… aspects of you…” EUREKA. I almost forgot, I’m a freak. It’s a known fact, weird things happen to me more often than most people; my parents can’t keep up with all the strange things I do. How could I expect them to ask me “What happened?” every time I come home? They would die from exhaustion. My mom even says, “It’s best I don’t know everything.” I understand that. Who can possibly put up with all my shenanigans? Then he justified my parents’ lack of curiosity further by saying, “I mean… as long as there is no blood or anything broken, they’re just happy you’ve made it through another day.” I had to admit, my friend was right to some extent. Still, this time the story wasn’t even that weird.

Let me assure you, the wetness wasn’t anything to be worried about. I didn’t get my head flushed in a toilet by a bully and no crazed killer attempted to drown me in the Chesapeake bay, but is it too much to ask for a little concern? After Skinny Dip we went back to my friend’s house because there was still a some time ;eft before we had to go home. We were outside with just our feet in her pool, talking, when I remembered something from my ToDo List, which it would be the perfect time to do. I think  you can guess now. We went swimming… with our clothes on. It was so fun! I loved it! We made air pockets with our shirts pretending we were fat and tried to laugh underwater. You know, the usual. Now I can cross #45 off the list!

I should probably just be happy my parents never get mad when I miss curfew. Thanks parents.

It's a little hard to see, but we're in a pool... with clothes on.

I guess it’s a slow news day.

There are days when the 6:00 hour of the news is overloaded with one after another fluff pieces about a woman and her dog delivering hand-made blankets to homeless people followed by a segment on how to properly wash our hands and “Coming up next: Who your mailman really is- Exposing the secret life of the city’s letter deliverers.” As I watch I can’t help but wonder, “Is it a slow news day?”

Every once in a while something alarming or unusual happens, giving the news lady a chance to “interrupt your regularly scheduled program” with “Breaking News!” Unlike some people,  who want to know what Raymond was about to say to his mother Marie to get her off Debra’s back, I actually enjoy this rare instance when something happens so newsworthy they can’t wait until 6:00 or 11:00 to tell us.

Today’s interruption was the result of a gunman reported on the Virginia Tech campus. WOAH BABY! If this is true, I feel terribly sad for that poor school; they’ve suffered enough. As you may recall, a shooting spree at VT left 33 dead in 2007. This, my friends, is real news; something everyone needs and should hear about. Therefore, I condone the interruption, seeing as I’ve seen this episode 800 times (Spoiler Alert: Raymond chickens out because he’s a mamma’s boy and Debra gets mad).

TO READ THE FULL STORY…

On this rare day when something worthwhile is being reported, you’d think Facebook would erupt with “OH NO HE DIDN’T” statuses about the event. If any change in weather can make it into everyone’s status every day, this should definitely have triggered a few couch potatoes to alert the networking masses. To my dismay, I found nothing but Jersey Shore on my News Feed. There was even a “Happy Birthday Mr. Obama!” Nothing about the unfolding tragedy at Virginia Teach! Is this what our world has come to? I even gave the couch potatoes at least 20 minutes to make clever statuses, still nothing. I had to take on the role of Jerk Who Brings Morality into the Situation. Yes, I made my own status : “There’s a gunman in VT and everyone’s statuses are about Jersey Shore tonight. WHAD DAF UCKIS WRONG WITH YOU? smh.” (Notice, I would never say an actual bad word on Facebook)

However, I realize the season premier is tonight, which means the couch potatoes were too angry about the interruption of their Jersey Shore marathon to realize the emergency of circumstances at VT. In that case, I forgive you. NOT.

I Saw the Sign

Friday was probably the best day of my life or, at least, the happiest. Literally, I don’t think my wedding day could make me that happy. Maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but wait until you read about all the fun things that happened Friday. It was definitely one of those day I never wanted to end.

First, I got to see an actual scary movie with my friend for my Cinema of Horror class and I thought it was really good. If you’ve ever seen A Haunting, especially if you’re of an older generation, please let me know what you thought of it when you saw it. I thought the scary parts were actually scary and the plot was actually very interesting. Aside from the slow parts in the middle when I couldn’t help but to dose a little, I thought it was, overall, an excellent scary movie. As always, open mic night was fun, but it was even better because some of my friends were in it and they did so well. I love the atmosphere at open mic nights here because everyone in the audience it extremely supportive of their fellow students. It takes a lot of courage to stand on stage and display your talent, leaving yourself vulnerable to criticism. It’s very reassuring to know people can appreciate that bravery and encourage it. After open mic night a counselor had gotten on stage to make a few announcements. He built up so much suspense before the one announcement we’d been waiting to hear for two weeks. We couldn’t tell if it would be bad news or good news because he made it sound like both. Finally he told us that we’re going with Governor’s School to see the last Harry Potter movie on Tuesday! Everyone screamed and cried and hugged each other! I hugged someone I didn’t even know, while my friend cried tears of happiness. It was clearly a really exciting time!  In addition to all of the awesomeness I’ve already mentioned, we also had a 90s dance. I realize you must be very confused as to how such a theme could be successfully pulled off; however, it was by far the best dance I’ve ever been to. I’ll admit, I was even skeptical at first. I didn’t know what a 90s outfit would entail. How could I put an outfit together for a decade so indistinct from the decades surrounding it. Boy was I wrong. My friends and I put together the best 90s grunge, Spice Girls, MC Hammer, Fresh Prince, Full House, warm-up, jean jacket, flannel outfits. Check it out!

The reason this dance was the best dance I’ve ever been to was, by far, the music. I’m a 90s kid so I can appreciate those songs; they remind me of my childhood, listening to Christina Aguilera, the Backstreet Boys, the Baha Men, etc. In honor of the greatest idea ever (a 90s themed dance), I’ve created a playlist of all essential songs of that decade. I hope I haven’t left any out. I strongly encourage you, if you’re ever in the need for a theme, to use the 90s, it’s a very misunderstood and underappreciated decade.

Ultimate 90s music playlist:

No Rain- Blind Melon
All the Small Things- Blink 182 
Mr. Jones- Counting Crows 
I want Candy- Aaron Carter 
Under the Bridge- Red Hot Chili Peppers 
Wannabe- Spice Girls 
Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana 
All I Wanna Do- Sheryl Crow 
Baby One More Time- Brittany Spears 
Allstar- Smash Mouth 
Jump Around- House of Pain 
Dirty Pop- 'N SYNC 
Linger- Cranberries 
1979- Smashing Pumpkins 
Macarena- Los Del Rio 
No Scrubs- TLC 
Can't Touch This- MC Hammer 
Baby Got Back- Sir Mix-a-lot
Milkshake- Kelis
Waterfalls- TLC 
Everybody- Backstreet Boys 
C'mon N Ride It (The Train) - Quad City DJs 
This Is How We Do It - Montell Jordan 
Killing Me Softly- Fugees 
Counting Blue Cars- Dishwalla 
Gettin' Jiggy Wit It - Will Smith 
Every Morning- Sugar Ray 
Mamma Said Knock You Out- LL Cool J 
Wonderwall- Oasis 
What is Love?- Haddaway 
Bye Bye Bye- 'N SYNC A
ll That She Wants- Ace of Base 
Who Let the Dogs Out?- Baha Men 
Tubthumping- Chumbawumba 
Black or White- Michael Jackson 
Mo Money, Mo Problems - Notorious BIG feat. Puff Daddy & Ma$e 
Blue (Da ba dee)- Eiffel 65 
Genie in a Bottle- Christina Aguilera 
Viva' La Vida Loca - Ricky Martin 
Mambo No. 5 (A Little Bit of...) Lou Bega 
Motownphilly- Boyz II Men 
How Bizarre - OMC 
Call Me - Le Click feat. Kayo 
The Sign- Ace of Base 
Crazy- Brittany Spears

Mischief Managed.

I was in the middle of writing a very emotional tribute to the Harry Potter series and it being the end of an era… blah blah blah, when I stumbled upon a note my friend has just posted on Facebook for all to see. No one has been more upset about missing the midnight premier than this girl, Lexie. Let me explain. Because we are at Governor’s School, not only are we not allowed to go to the midnight premier, we aren’t seeing the movie at all for the duration of our stay. There’s one thing you cannot mess with and that is a school of 400 nerds and their opportunity to see the last Harry Potter movie. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It almost makes me want to pack my bags and head home right now. Anyways, enough whining. I think I should post my friend’s farewell to Harry Potter because it means a lot to her.

“Harry Potter isn’t just a book. It’s not just a series, and it most CERTAINLY is not just a movie. It’s an era…. a universe…. a world, and it is one of the reasons that I am who I am today.
To some people, it’s entertaining. To me…. I don’t even know how to describe it. The books are probably as important to me as the Bible is to some Christians. I’ll preach it to you too…. just diss it and I will cite verses from the pen of J.K. Rowling and jinx you with my pretend-wand ’till you’re convinced I’m crazy. I’m fiercely protective of it and I seriously get more worked up about it than most people. I was one of those people who waited for the books like a kid who just drank 3 gallons of water waits for the bathroom. When I got them, I would read non-stop until I finished and then I would re-read them all again, and then again. And then again when I was bored. My mom will still say to me “stop reading the same thing over and over again! Don’t you ever get tired of it?” I don’t. It’s like a different journey every time and I get to learn more about the characters and imagine more about the world that Rowling created every time. I fantasize so much about riding on a real broomstick and playing quidditch (I would most def be a chaser) and so I settle for just playing muggle quidditch with all my favorite muggles. I have a real broomstick too. When I went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, I cried inside just seeing the ‘life size’ Hogwarts and then cried again inside when I remembered that none of it was actually real. But like… it is real. And no matter how many cynical people tell me I’m cray-cray for thinking it’s real, look around you. Rowling freakin’ created a universe. (“Of course this is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”)
I know I can seem like a little bit of a ‘snitch’ sometime when people are all psyched about the movies when they haven’t read the books or something, but it’s only because I feel sorry for them for not being able to experience the true magic of the world you get to imagine and see for yourself. If I could, I would so go back and just Obliviate myself (Mariela) so that I could completely relive the whole thing. I can imagine my face as I crack open the new spine of the first book for the first time and being embraced by the magic within and become enlightened once more. I look forward to when my little sister is old enough to engage in discussions with me about it, and I want to meet J.K. Rowling so badly it’s not even funny. And no, I’m not obsessed. You may be like “LOL SHE”S SO OBSESSED” but like… I’m seriously not. I don’t think Harry is “hot” like Twilight fans think of Edward, I don’t run around with a wand (ALL of the time) and try to find horcruxes…. But I do play quidditch. And I do dress up. And I do freakin’ PREACH IT. Because it’s all part of the fun. It’s all part of the magic. THIS IS REAL MAGIC AT WORK. I love being a part of it. I’ve been looking forward to going to the midnight premiere of the LAST installation of the LAST possible thing of Harry Potter for forever, and I’m not able to go because I’m having the time of my life at Gov School with other kids who feel just as strongly and just as disappointed…..For those of you who have not read the books who are fortunate enough to attend the midnight premiere….. I strongly encourage you to go pick up the books and read them. Everybody could use a little more magic in their lives. ♥ –O-O–
Sorry if this was kind of dramatic/rambley, but it seriously needed to be said. And trust me, there is a whole lot more to be said….. 🙂 I love you.
PS. I was gonna put a really good quote from a book at the end here, but there are just WAYYYYYY too many…. :)”
 

The girl who wrote this is a grammar Nazi to the extreme. By her spelling errors, most of which I have corrected, and her horrid grammar, some of which is still there, it is clear how much emotion she put into this note. She cried today and for a good reason. I hope all of you who are going to see the midnight premier, dressed in your finest Hogwarts robes and carrying magic wands, realize how lucky you are. I also hope you all say “Mischief managed” at the end of this film. (Check out the Facebook Event “I Solemnly Swear that I am Up to No Good”). Not every Harry Potter fan will be going to the midnight premier, starting in a mere 24 hours, and it breaks my heart, especially because these fans are my friends.

My friends and I dressed up at Radford on the day of the Harry Potter premier. Celebrating the event even though we couldn't go.

“Religion is the opiate of the people” -Karl Marx

Beware: Serious topic ahead. Not for the faint-hearted.

A lot of people are, let’s call it, conservative and uncomfortable in letting public school teach anything about religion. These people are the ones who fight to censor things that need not be censored. I heard somewhere that one lady tried to have the Harry Potter series removed from public libraries in her area because it encourages witchcraft… uhh, find something else to do with your time, lady. There are many things I’ve learned in school which are centered around controversial topics such as religion, cloning, and evolution. Our Biology teacher decided to teach a huge unit on evolution this year and we also covered cloning. In tenth grade, one of our homework assignments was to read some story from the bible and we discussed it in class. The quote in the title? That was the topic of a timed writing assignment my freshman year in English class, we had to decide whether we agreed or disagreed. To tell you the truth I wish I knew where that paper was and what I said. I wonder if it has changed over the years.

Coming from a family with a Jewish mother and Baptist father, I haven’t been exposed to much in the realm of religion in effort to keep me unbiased. To an extent, I know almost nothing about religion, except those few things I’ve been taught in school by teachers or classmates. I mean, I’ve celebrated Hanukkah for several years, lighting the menorah and saying the Baruch ata adonai blessing. I’ve also celebrated Christmas and all other christian holidays since I was born. I was baptised and I’m Jewish; Jesus was the same way. You could say I’m bi-curious in a religious sense. Now that I’m arriving in that crossroads of my life when I decide what college I want to go to, what I want to study, what I want to be and do, and what I want to believe, it’s approaching the time when I choose an absolute religion. It hasn’t made me a bad person by being part of two religions and it hasn’t made me question who I am at all, I just hate this wishy washy business. When people ask if I’m Christian or Jewish I want to be able to answer with yes or no, not “Well, technically I’m… but…” I want to spare myself the ten minute explanation and the questions thereafter and just pick a side already.

It’s not that I don’t know who I am because I don’t know what I believe, I’m a lost soul, “God help me,” and what not. I just would like to be sure of myself by picking something and sticking to it. I’m definitely a Google junkie, I turn to the internet for every problem and question, most times even after asking my parents or other people. It sounds like I’m internet dependent for all of life’s problems, but I like to think of it as looking up every possibility and finding every piece of information I can so I can make an informed decision. So of course, I’ve researched both, but I don’t think research can help me this time. And maybe I don’t need a religion after all. Maybe I can just be content with believing in something, even if I’m not quite sure what it is. Religion is, in fact the opiate of the people. “Religion is the impotence of the human mind to deal with occurrences
it cannot understand.” I’ll keep you posted. Maybe I’ll decide, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll decide to be buddhist. Who knows? God only knows. Goodnight.

Sticking it to the Man

There are those teachers whose lessons follow us for our entire lives, touching the very core of our existence, changing the way we think. Then, there are those teachers who make us ask, “Who let this person teach children?” It is these teachers whom, while entertaining in their carelessness and ignorance, infuriate me to the highest degree. That is, until their ignorance affects my life for the better.

There were two AP Government teachers at my highschool (who will remain nameless except for Ms. W and Mr. R). Ms. W is the type of teacher who encompassed the entertaining aspects of relaxed teachers while still managing to teach and inspire her students. Mr. R is the epitome of a lazy teacher. I was blessed to have Ms. W as a teacher; however, my friend was not so lucky, but this brings me to my story and my inspiration for a new addition to my blog, which is still under construction. Every Ap Government student is assigned a textbook for which they are responsible throughout the school year. For some reason I’m not quite sure, this friend had gained possession of a second textbook, with the approval of Mr. R and was not asked to return that second textbook at the end of the year. Now, these textbooks are expensive and run anywhere from $50-100 or more, so I can assure you, Mr. R would have wanted that back. But by some slip of the mind, or the grace of God, if you will, this book has fallen into the hands of one of my friends. What would she want with a textbook for a class she’s already taken, you might ask. I, myself, asked this questioned. She could have sold it for money, given it to some other student who has yet to take the class, (or the ethically acceptable route) given it back to the teacher who had made the mistake. She did none of these things. She’s one of those people who has to make everything they do be amazing and unique, whether it’s intentional or not. I’ll admit right now, what she decided to do with this used AP Government textbook is probably the most useful thing I’ve ever done with a textbook in my life. It has now become her personal art collection book, with every page slowly becoming a beautiful watercolor painting, or inspirational writing, or mind-blowing pattern. It’s even better because of what’s underneath the paintings: the description and explanation of our government. She’s sticking it to the man.

I think it’s the most incredible idea ever and I’m so happy she’s letting me be a part of it as I have done a few paintings in the book as well. Although I’m not an incredibly talented artist like some of my other friends, I do love painting and watercolors and expressing myself and sticking it to the man. Until now, textbooks were always a thing we cared for as if it were a child, loving it, keeping it safe from rain and snow, cleaning it after dinner, keeping an eye on it at all times for fear of loosing it or, God forbid, someone taking it, and turning the pages ever so gently so as not to tear one. The fact that she has decided to turn it into something so aberrant has changed my way of thinking. Her creativity is inspirational; in fact, that’s why I have decided to create a page devoted to sticking it to the man. I’ve always been one to believe in questioning authority, and this is a perfect opportunity to do just that. I’m not sure what exactly I’ll put on this page yet. Maybe it will show some artwork from the book, or some of my personal philosophy about authority, or some of my experiences with authority which my readers and friends can read for themselves and develop their own philosophies about the Man. I’m not usually one to preach my values; you can have your own. I, however, believe in Benjamin Franklin’s words, “It is the first responsibility of every citizen to question authority.”

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