Examination Instructions for Students:
Skip.
Ditch.
Flee.
Of course, I speak only in the longing and hypothetical manner of the wanna-be rebel. After all…skipping my exams?! *Gasp*…what would my mother say…
But really, why do we even have these stupid things in high school? (Uni exams, I’m told, are a totally different affair) Why force students at the end of the year to do no more than re-learn everything they’ve already forgotten?
By now, I’m sure even the most out-of-the-loop adult has caught on; teens are a bunch of slackers and idiots. In this lifetime, nothing short of food, money, or material goods will motivate us, least of all the presence of a massive test spanning the entire course looming at the end of every semester. What, is this enough to convince us that, as well as pursuing extra-curriculars, maintaining decent grades in all classes, and maybe keeping up a social life, we’re supposed to keep up a constant routine of reviewing not just new course material, oh no, but all the crapola we’ve learned previously? Ummm…no
Are they supposed to make sure that we’ve actually mastered the concepts taught to us over 5 months? If so, then what is the point of all the regular tests during the actual semester?
Are they either a final check to ensure that the students receive a passing grade only when deserved, or a last-ditch attempt to pull up marks? Either way, it’s a total failure. If you actually take the time to examine the math, 30% isn’t going to do much to any final grade, unless the student is already precariously teetering at the brink of failure (this applies even more strongly for those courses where the 30% is split between the exam and an ISU, therefore causing the exam to be worth only a measly 15%).
Though, administrators of school boards everywhere, if you happen to be reading this, I take into account that the present system is what it “best” for us, I’m sure, and in no way do I present a challenge to effect any changes such as, say, making exams worth half of the final mark, or anything. Just commenting on what seems like futility from my POV…
So, to encapsulate…why? Because honestly, there is precious little worse than going over an entire semester’s worth of Physics, Biology, Calculus and Vectors in less than a week.
Hmm…mayhaps there is a conspiracy afoot? Yes, that’s it! As is plain to all, teenagers are clearly the bane of all existence. So why not get rid of them once and for all? Simply assign them all a task so tedious and arduous that the only result will be the mass head-desking of a large majority, thus resulting in at least half of them dead, or at least rendered brain-dead, and the world will be rid of them forever!
Ah, you see, but this fiendish plot shall not work! Teenagers, now hear this! Screw exams, toss your textbooks up in the air, and go frolic in the wheat fields!
Or, at least, you guys can go do that…I still have some studying to do if I want to avoid death by furious mother…
It’s 12:30 in the morning…and I’m hyperventilating
Okay, so this here’s been a pretty deserted corner of the internet for a looong time…I mean, I’ve been typing crap on here on a semi-regular basis, for at least half a year (whew, that’s a LONG time!), and there’s never been more than 12 views in a single day, every blue moon or so, and that’s just because I posted it onto a website that cycles randomly through blogs, just for kicks. For Christ’s sake, I’ve even only ever mentioned this place to my friends in passing when explaining how I got a free shirt from Threadless (which is why I happen to be advertising to RetailMeNot.com to the right there)! I’ve pretty much become accustomed to the near-isolation, the freedom to write whatever I want without being judged, to goof off, change styles, experiment, all in, pretty much, the isolation of my own soul (see here)
But just now, I popped into my stats out of boredom, to find that I’ve somehow amassed 28 views in a day? And really, considering that it doesn’t add up to what the detailed statement says (only accounts for about 11 of ‘em), I’ve gotta believe that WordPress is glitching in some way…right? It’s all just a massive mistake! Or…is it maybe possible that people actually care what I have to say? Oh my… *sniff*
I’d like to thank my parents, and my mentors…
Right, back to reality.
So anyway, I’m getting freaked out by this semi-massive spike (which it really is, if you look at the graphical representation of the past few days), since what’s accompanying it…is…nothing! Not that I’m complaining (I mean, pageviews themselves are supposed to be a good thing, right?), but 28 (alleged) views, a count that doesn’t add up, and no comments, no mentions on my deviantart…nothing to explain who, or what, is responsible for this sudden spike in pageviews!
And I would like to stress, I am, in no way, demanding comments like a spoiled little princess. Simply, I would like an explanation. I would like to ask…if you are reading this, how in h**l’s name did you manage to get here? Why? And, *ahem* what do you think?
Je parle plusieurs langues – m’aimez!
Why do we find foreign languages, nay, foreignity, so romantic?
Some of my facebook friends plop french phrases into their status updates and poems on a semi-regular basis. Notably, the ones who seem to be cultivating a rep as “artsy”, and the ones who *ahem* I believe have chosen to not take french classes in school past the point where it was obligatory…
I’ve noticed that one of my MSN contacts (you know, the ones you have, but never talk to…or is that just me?) has a small string of Asian characters in his screen name, but from what I know about him, I would have given him a 1 in 20 chance of actually knowing an Asian language (but if he’s actually interested in learning, then kudos!).
My friends who have taken Spanish frequently burst randomly into it, like an inside joke, just one spanning their entire knowledge of a language. Oh, and one of them also incorporates her “expertise” of French and Italian in there too.
I’ve heard (though not actually experienced) that some “more serious” anime fans disparage of the silly “fan-girls” who frequently squeal in Japanese whatever four words they’ve picked up from Sailor Moon and Pokemon (watched only for the cuteness of the critters, of course…).
But why? Showing off knowledge of another language in this for is certainly not about utility, not when this so-called “knowledge” is only limited to a few characters and phrases. In fact, limited language has almost become a culture in itself, the way these teens around me are using it.
And a very limited knowledge it is! No matter what the language, or who the speaker, I seem to be catching only the same snatches over and over again. Really, they are inside jokes…used for a reaction, used for praise, used so that every time they appear, the speakers and those privy to the humour can giggle together. See, but that’s the thing…those snatches of other languages, those mouths forming themselves into the same foreign shapes over and over until they’re no longer foreign, are only the tip of the iceberg, and yet they’re left at that. As long as they know what a word or two means, they’re good, they know enough to show off, and there’s no more need to learn.
Sure, the romanticism of foreign cultures is no stranger to the world; kimono-inspired shirts, pinatas, and various foods have all been introduced to my little western corner of the world, amongst other things. But think about it; how many times have you swung at a paper-mache figure at a party, or smirked briefly over that fact that it was the fifth of may, and you were eating salsa, and simply left it at that? How many times have you done anything directly associated with another culture, and felt proud, worldly, and cultured, despite the briefness of your “plunging into another world”?
Construe it one way, and one could almost interpret those proud flashes, those brief giggles, an insult to the culture itself. That those people feel that kimonos, geisha (who are not prostitutes!), cherry blossoms, and “sugoi-ne!” are all that need to be explored of Japanese culture before being entitled to that feeling of satisfaction. And why not, exactly? The Japanese are a people with a vast and interesting culture, or are these pinky-dippers just too lazy?
Furthermore, it’s not even that useful, the what these people know. Pray tell, what’s the use of knowing how to say “love does not last forever” in French, like, ever? Sure, maybe I pretty much only know how to express my name and ask where the bathroom is in Spanish (a fact which I’m not proud of), but at least I can be proud that should I ever find myself unexpectedly in Spain, I will never have an overly full bladder.
So, then, why? Do other cultures find themselves as enraptured and captivated by a limited knowledge of the American Way? Why encourage that stems from laziness and self-importance, and ends in other people’s annoyance? On the other hand, do these other people even have a right to be annoyed, for are the pinky-dippers, in reality, more intelligent and worldly?
Mwahaha…
♪ Nooooboody’s reading this, nobody’s reading this! ♪
Ahh, my own private corner of the universe…how calming. How reassuring. How very, very nice.
I mean, I can totally write things like “My stomach just gurgled!”, or claim that I wrote the entire screenplay for Slumdog Millionaire and no one would care! (Although I probably shouldn’t, in case this comes up as evidence in court someday…)
Sweeeet…
I wanna shout!
See, these days, I’ve been on a kick, entitled the “I-hate-annoying-attention-seekers kick”.
You know the type…every sentence out of their mouth is “Guess what I did?”, “You know what really annoys me?”, “I hate/love my…”, etc. The new creeper-style Facebook is always updating itself with status changes, every photo tagged with their picture immediately gets commented with “OMG, look at me! I’m so…”. The ones that make you listen to every new song on their iPod, and complain loudly when the songs being played anywhere else are not to their liking.
Truth is, they’re everywhere, especially in this new age of Twittering, blogging, and Facebook-ing, and especially since I am a teenager, who hangs out with other teenagers. And really, who am I to complain about them? Heck, the fact that I’m even typing this shows quite plainly that I am one.
But it bugs me how much the desire to attract attention runs our lives. We buy and wear shiny new clothes (brand names optional), post our creations and innermost thoughts on the internet, audition for reality shows, all chasing that subconscious desire that someone out there will notice you, want to know you, and be interested in everything you are. In fact, in some people, I could swear that I’m even starting to see them only as pathetic soul walking around with giant “WATCH ME!” sandwich boards.
Which is precicely why I am terrified of becoming one of “them” (I know, us-vs-them mentality, not good, yada yada yada). I’m so terrified that on my way to school one day in a new outfit, I was considering to myself that I only wore that thing to get compliments, and that I was in massive denial when I tried to assure myself that I didn’t.
See?! I just told the internet something that nobody probably cares about! Ugh. I want so desperately to post idiosyncrasies in my Facebook status, post notes detailing anything about my day that I remember, force my musical tastes on the world However, if I do, I know very well that I will complete my transformation into one of them.
But, nonetheless, I can find solace that I update this blog so rarely with stuff of no interest to anyone else that no one reads it. I mean, occasionally, I get one or two page views, but barring that, that means that nobody’s reading this! I am can say whatever the heck I want! Hahahahaha! Plus, knowing that nobody reads this, I can delude myself into thinking that I’m not doing this as a cry for attention. Yay~!
So, I can do what I want to do, say what I want to say, and as long as I don’t infringe on any rights, I’m in the clear! I will post my worthless, pointless thoughts, all on this here blog, safe in my cocoon of knowledge that I can get it out of my system, and not become another drooling, raving, desperate-for-attention zombie.
Cheers!
An excercise in…?
Okay, so here’s what ya do:
Disappear.
Leave no trace, no goodbye, no notice, and just vanish off the face of the planet.
I think everyone should try this at one point in their lives, especially in this modern age of wifi and G3. People, normal people with normal personality quirks, now have the capacity to lose their heads without their Blackberries and iPhones. At every moment of every day, someone could find you.
But what if they couldn’t?
Yes, I realize that for some people, that is a scary thought, and definitely not an ideal situation (parents of toddlers, high-risk stockbrokers, to name a few), but for others who can be comfortably certain that barring any incredibly unlikely catastrophe, I believe this exercise could prove useful.
You goal, ideally, is to vanish, almost off the face of the earth; to sever all ties with the world and indulge in the accompanying freedom. Well, not really. I mean, if they had to, the police should still be able to track you down, you’re not a wanted criminal or anything (right?). But if, say, your mother/sibling/BFF decides to hunt you down, they could never find you. They could call every known phone number associated with your name, send out search parties within a mile radius of your home, and you would never even be aware that they were looking.
The first, and only step (the rest is just tips and suggestions) is to simply leave. Pick a time-frame where you can be reasonably sure that no one will need you, abandon your cellphones and laptops somewhere where you’ll get them back, and walk away.
Now, remember your goal: vanishment. Therefore, you should be on foot for a portion of your expedition.
Public transportation is a no-no; ticket sale records can be found in a system; coins, tickets, and discarded transfers can be matched to fingerprints; passengers and drivers/pilots can be asked to identify you…kidding. But it does tend to be crowded and noisy, and if not, there’s the downside of always being accompanied by the driver.
Cars should probably be avoided too…cars have licence plates, and easily identifiable makes and colors . The question “Did a silver Honda Civic pull out of this parking lot 5 minutes ago?” is a weird question, no doubt…but you never know when a sharp-minded (and bored) McDonalds employee has the correct answer. Also, it can be pretty hard to get to a your nice, mostly secluded location in a big clunky car.
If you want, you could go all stealthy with this. Travel only down beaten, lonely bike paths, through bushes and empty parks, to ensure that nobody will notice, remember, or poke their heads out their window to see the “[insert vague physical description] strolling down this sidewalk”, should anyone care to ask. But that’s really not necessary (fun though!).
Finally, you destination? Your choice. I personally like deserted areas of parks along the lakefront (then you get a nice view, too!). You could even suddenly take a turn and pop into a store, mall, friend’s house, or anywhere there are other people, smirking with your secret knowledge that nobody on earth know (or will ever know) how you got to be there. It doesn’t really matter; what’s important is that by the end, you have experienced being invisible. Being completely detached from any other human in the world for a period of time, safe and secure* in your seclusion.
So? What are you waiting for? Go on, git! Disappear, for all I care…
*I would suggest that while trying out this little adventure, to please stay safe. That means no wandering out at night into the sketchy part of town. I don’t want anyone getting mugged or worse because of what I said, got it?! Good.
A bit advice from an annoyed girl
Listen to yourself when you talk.
If you find yourself saying the exacts same things in the exact same words, then maybe it’s time for you to shut up.*
This especially applies if you catch people’s eyes drooping, wandering, or glaring noticeably every time you open your mouth.
*Note – if the words you keep repeating are either your catchphrase or part of a speech, then just ignore me.
Damn hair…
My hair is giving me a headache. Not because I can’t decide on a style for it or whatever, but because it is so damn heavy.
My hair is, dare I say it, pretty thick, in that I have a lot of it. And it’s pretty long too, hanging down to about my armpits. I keep it in a low ponytail, and right now, it is so heavy that I can feel it pulling on my scalp.
Sometimes, the thought crosses my head that I should cut it; I probably should, seeing as it’s been a year minus about 2 months since it last saw a pair of scissors, but I’m just too lazy. No, not to go to a salon and spend who knows how long getting my head pampered (or so I imagine); no, I cut my own hair.
For a variety of reasons too, not just because it’s too expensive (even though it is), not just because I’m too lazy to find someone to whom I’d trust my long silky locks (not that my hair consists of “silky locks”), or any other reason. No, it’s because I’m lazy about my hair in general. You know how I mentioned that it’s in a low ponytail? Yeah, that’s pretty much my hair every single day, 24/7, except when I’m washing or brushing it. I’m like a cartoon character, you know, who never, ever changes his/her hairstyle, except in Wedding/Birthday Party/Picture Day episodes (and I’m even loathe to do it then).
Now why would I bother spending upwards of $15 (and that’s just at First Choice!) to get my hair all done up prettily when I would end up just throwing it into a ponytail, hmm?
See, these are the questions that keep me up at night.
A Holiday Poem For My Jewish Friend
Of all the words in this wide world,
Not many rhyme with Chanukah
There’s door and floor, beer and fear,
But still, nothing quite goes with Chanukah
But the fact still remains, it’s the 20th,
And in a just a few hours, it’ll be Chanukah
So I scratch my head and furrow my brow,
To find a word that rhymes with Chanukah
When the great English language was made,
Could they not have thought of Chanukah?
And of the dim-witted girls with Jewish friends,
Who would attempt many poems about Chanukah!
Who would ponder and search and, yes, cry,
When no rhyme could be found for Chanukah
And a disappointed funk would soon follow,
That darkens the very spirit of Chanukah
So tonight, I defy all the rules,
And in an effort befitting of Chanukah,
I present to thee, in celebration,
A poem without rhyme for Chanukah!
Happy Chanukah, you!
