New Year's Resolutions!

Yes, the time has rolled around once again. The time to throw out your old JoBros calendars and put up the Bieber. Personally, I gave up on calendars. I mean, I can never remember whether it's Wednesday or Thursday or Sunday to begin with, so why know the date? That habit to not know the day of the week has been rather detrimental in my college admissions' process, since that January deadline is creeping up, and I still have at least one more essay to write, and who knows how many others will pop up tomorrow morning? However, this post is about my New Year's resolutions. And keeping track of time is not one of them. That would be more appropriate on a New Year's List of Miracles.

Anyways, when I get back to school on Tuesday, I will be an VIP (very interesting person, duh), according to the social definitions of today's strange, strange world. 

Here's my list!

10) Finish reading A Portrait of a Lady.  

This Henry James' classic has been plaguing me for two. years. I absolutely adore it, it's one of my favorite books, but I'm only on page, oh, 78 out of a couple hundred. I tell myself that I don't have time to sit down and digest the gorgeous language of Henry James, that I need to be relaxed and introspective with several hours on my hands in order to get anything out of it. Nah, I really just need to sit down and read it. Guilty secret: I actually wrote an essay about the works of Henry James for college, and mentioned A Portrait as one of my favorites...

Time Estimate: I WILL finish this book by Easter. 

9) Watch Alice in Wonderland. 

Yeah, yeah. I was the person who was SO excited to see this movie. I raved on and on about how great it looked, how great Johnny Depp looked, etc. But I haven't seen it yet. And I know it's supposed to be awful and all, but this is my goal, guys. I need to see it.  

Time Estimate: I WILL watch this movie by Valentine's Day.

8) Have a Marx Brothers' Party. 

This has been in the works for YEARS, since very, very few people have been exposed to the genius of the Marx Brothers, a group of brothers (who'd have known?) with a strange and clever sense of humor (I like to think my sense of humor is comparable...) which is a mix of slapstick and language manipulation 

(i.e. Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read). Groucho Marx also originated Lydia the Tattooed Lady.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4zRe_wvJw8

Will Ferrell for the intelligentsia and grease moustache-lovers.

Time Estimate: I WILL have this party by graduation.

7) Break up Michael Buble's impending marriage. 

He's marrying this Argentinian chick in April. But seriously, she doesn't know English, he doesn't know Spanish. How long is that gonna last, especially when I get involved? I'm all for strange matches, but you gotta be able to communicate in the same language. 

NO!

Time Estimate: Ummm, as soon as Michael sees me. And I'm sure fate is on my side. I mean, I'm even going to his home country of Canada in March! Just think of the possibilities...

6) Have an affair with one of my college professors. 

All the interesting people do this. Well, at least in movies. Drew Barrymore, Maggie Gyllenhaal, etc. And of course there's Patricia Cornwell, who wins my vote for most interesting person EVER. She's a successful crimewriter who is bisexual, a descendant of Harriet Beecher Stowe, bulimic, anorexic, and alcoholic at some point in her life, donated thousands of dollars to both Clinton and Bush, caused an FBI agent to attempt the murder of his wife because she was having an affair with Ms. Cornwell, is best friends with Billy Graham, writes books about Jack the Ripper and sepsis, AND, to make this whole spiel relevant, married one of her professors at Davidson College (one of my top choices!) right after graduation. And that ain't from Wikipedia. 

Time Estimate: This WILL happen by next New Year's. There are other conditions, though...(not to be picky, but there is an age limit).

5) Pull a badass senior prank. 

Is there any way that I would be expelled? I mean, I add a lot to the community of Bishop Lynch: involvement, good statistical additions to make it seem smarter, respectability, family to follow, etc. So, if you guys come up with a wonderful idea for a prank (it has to be CLEVER, NOT [too] DANGEROUS, and WORKABLE) let me know about it and I'll orchestrate it. Nothing I can do can get me in trouble, and if that's not true, we'll find out soon!

Time Estimate: This WILL happen by graduation.

4) Go on a road trip anywhere but Kansas. 

I would love to set a goal to backpack in Europe, but that will have to wait till 2012 or so...I would rather go to the mountains (the whole Julie Andrews, climb every mountain, the hills are alive obsession). And I would like to go with crazy adventurous people. Or at least people who pretend to be crazy adventurous. Because otherwise I wouldn't get to go... 

Time Estimate: This WILL happen by August and the end of summer.

3) Get in some sort of shape. 

Yeah, exercising would probably do a lot for my energy level, confidence level, etc. But it's such a pain. However, I was inspired by my brother and my aunt, who both ran the White Rock Marathon, to run a bit and maybe put some effort into my future health.

Time Estimate: This WILL start once all the cookies at my house are gone. 

2) Become a ginger! 

AHHH! I've wanted to dye my hair red for YEARS. I've gotten highlights, lowlights, and all that, but I've never gone all the way. Well, until tonight. Wild New Year's party? Nahh. I'm gonna dye my hair light auburn, watch Despicable Me with the little ones at my house, and eat a bag of Hershey's Kisses at midnight. 

SHE is my inspiration: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVdia_7a0Vw&feature=related 

Time Estimate: Oh, this IS happening in five hours or so.

1) Become a vegetarian!

When I told my sister that I would challenge her in a competition to see who could stay vegetarian longer this year, I shocked myself. But it's really exciting to think about, actually. I will have to cook for myself, eat healthily, and discover those cool vegetarian restaurants everyone raves about all the time! I will still eat fish and things like chicken bouillon cubes in vegetable soup, but steak, fried chicken, bacon, sausage: all OUT. I've got an account on allrecipes.com, and a sister and best friend to call if I'm really hungry and need an idea that sounds better than this: http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/cookie-dough-hummus/Detail.aspx

But gahh Thanksgiving is gonna suck. Lentil turkey? Tofu stuffing? Black bean gravy? I dread it already. 

Time Estimate: Honestly, I WILL keep this all year. It probably will get easier once I leave my meat-loving family to go off to college, but until then, I will survive. Thank God I love spinach.

I am such a cool person. 

Happy New Year!

Overreact Lately? Join the Club.

After an awful week of unspeakable trauma and pain, I woke up on Saturday. Yes, I meant that literally and figuratively. I woke up after ten hours of solid sleep. I woke up after 120 hours of absolute insanity. Insanity, in this case, being defined as 'overreaction'. Now for all of you who read Billy Budd, remember you this:

"Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blendingly enter into the other? So with sanity and insanity."

violet to orange
sanity to insanity
love to hate
understanding to annoyance
forgiveness to betrayal
reaction to overreaction

Where do they end? Is there ever an answer?
Psh, no.
It all depends on who you are and who is analyzing your actions.

But I have always expressed an annoyance for overreactionary people. Drama queens, kill 'em all! As I traversed the line between sanity and insanity, though, I crossed the line between love and hate, forgiveness and betrayal, and in my overreactions I grew more understanding and less annoyed by melodramatic persons. However, as I realized my overreactions, I was unable to stop. The slippery slope argument holds true, my dears. And I grew annoyed with myself.

Why was I acting like a normal person? For godssake, I'm NOT a normal person. Or, I wasn't supposed to be. I'm the intimidating feminist who needs no one. No support, no affection, no encouragement, no one. WHAT CHANGED?! What could I do about it? I oscillated from feeling utter pain to feeling ecstatic. My mood changes seemed simultaneous. I had never felt so ALIVE, so in tune with the little devil on my shoulder.

And yet, I said at the beginning that I woke up. If I was so alive, then why did I need to wake up?

Because, real life does not happen like that. You cannot be that unstable without being diagnosed as manic-depressive or just plain crazy. There is a point when you have to take control of your emotions, funnel them into something productive. And that is hard. So hard. Harder than calculus, harder than running a marathon, harder than anything you can insert in the blank. But you have to wake up. You have to recognize that those people who are helping you along, making you cookies and brownies, handing you kleenexes, talking to you constantly, they have problems, too. Some of those problems are most likely more important than yours, too. Perhaps they go home crying every day, too. Perhaps they can't eat, either. Perhaps they feel nauseous for absolutely no reason. Perhaps they need you to wake up once in a while.

It's alright to indulge yourself a bit. God knows, I indulged myself for way too long. And now I feel drained. I feel overly sensitive, like I just spent a day outside being whipped by the wind. I can't give my all to those who need it. I spent too much on myself. And I feel guilt. Overwhelming guilt. Because I have woken up. Seriously, those kids in India really DON'T have enough to eat. I can get over myself now. And so can you.

I have been acting out for myself with my pre-pubescent mentality, and though I am so thankful for those who have been playing along with me, it is time for me to take off that godawful mask and become myself again. However, myself is not that intimidating feminist girl, myself is an empathetic person who truly did learn an important lesson. One which each of us must learn in our own time, but one which requires the support which I believe I am now ready to give as those closest to me gave freely to me.

I apologize for my overreactions, but can't I be given a bit of a break? Can't I stay on the forgiveness side? Do I have to be branded a Judas? After all, without Judas, we wouldn't be here right now. Of course I meant all of those words when I said them, but now, I will try to say words that will force you to believe that I really did change. I changed my mind. And I believe that I have thrown those silver coins back at those judgmental people whom I have just recently abandoned.

However, belief and delusion are on the same line of uncertainty...Who can tell what will happen tomorrow? Who knows how many more awakenings until I reach my final maturation? No one can decide that but me.

Good luck, self!

Emotionally Compromised

"Doctor, I am emotionally compromised and no longer fit for command, please note the time and date in the ship's log."

Zachary Quinto, a.k.a. the 'new Spock', said this line after the jerk Kirk had just incited Spock's anger and sorrow over the death of his mother. Now, it's hard to feel sorry for the dude, since two minutes later he was making out with Zoe Saldana in the elevator, but I think we can all sympathize with the message. He realized, after giving Kirk the punch in the face he very much deserved, that his emotions were affecting his day to day functions, that he really could not make rational judgments because of the severe traumatic shock his body and mind had just gone through.

Spock had an easy way to get out of responsibility after that. He literally did not have the authority to make decisions. He could go along with whatever the new captain said, realizing that his opinion really was not objective in the slightest. But we are not all half-Vulcan. We all do not have the option to simply give up responsibility. In real life, we constantly have to make those decisions which could help or harm others so easily, and very often we thrust our emotions to the side, trying to be objective but instead building up a deadly defense wall which, once perpetrated by a glance or a word, falls in on itself in a hopeless case of self-destruction. Now, try saying that last sentence three times fast.

Seriously, though, I have no solution.
It's stupid to try to give advice or make important decisions (or even unimportant decisions) when emotionally unstable in any which way, whether it be love or death or life. I mean, just tonight I've eaten a week's worth of ice cream and nut brownies (and I do not like nut brownies in the slightest...), and that seemingly unimportant decision to mistreat my body will cause a rather unpleasant stomachache in the morning. And it also kinda destroys my fast for Thanksgiving...
It's also stupid to curl up in a ball and refuse to interact with people, for fear that your instability will transfer over to their lives and result in a misinterpreted signal or whatever. Pretty much, don't isolate yourself. Someone is willing to listen, even if it is someone whom you have never really spoken to before. Hell, give me a call, facebook me, whatever. However, take into account that the person you are talking to may be emotionally compromised as well. Don't take anything at face value. That doesn't mean don't trust anyone, but get second opinions.

Now, before you start praising me as the bringer of all things truth, realize that I myself may be emotionally compromised. My blog might just be the rantings of my subconscious whenever I feel slighted, or wronged, or lonely.

Emotions are funny things. The other day, I was having mood swings. One moment I would be jump-up-and-down happy (and I'm so past caring about what other people think of me that I in fact did jump up and down several times throughout the day) and two minutes later I would be digging a hole to bury myself in the ground (fortunately, there is no loose soil in any of the classrooms, so I couldn't literally do that).

A friend told me a couple of minutes ago that I should stop concentrating on the many negatives in my life right now and instead think of the positives. Cliche, yes, but it is cheesy holiday schmaltzy season, and it really can help to count your blessings. This Thursday, forget your cynicism, your agnosticism, your bitterness, your sorrow, and instead think of those things you have-friends, family, pets, food, clothing, (school), LIFE, and let yourself be emotionally compromised with the absolute joy you will feel. Give up your attempt to be cool and chill and self-contained and let yourself feel something. Tear down your wall yourself before it can collapse on you.

Emotional Compromise is the best way to let yourself be human.
And, for everyone out there bothering to read this, I probably love you.
And I definitely forgive you.

VIVE LA FRANCE!

I really needed to update this. It's been way too long since you have heard any words of wisdom coming from my writing desk. I thought it would be appropriate to make another list for you, perhaps tips for college interviews? But I don't have time to force my witty mind to make you laugh. So, instead, I will be giving a little lecture on NATIONAL FRENCH WEEK!
Yes, it starts NOW!

You will hear French prayers, French music, French phrases. You will see French t-shirts, French posters, and smell the sweet scent of French food if you walk by 112A. Now, cough cough, I have heard, especially this year, a huge amount of DERISION aimed at French people. Now, granted, many of the stereotypes (gorgeous fashion great food ruined economy expensive toilets) are actually true, but some are not. So, you racist high schoolers, make fun of us. We are unflappable. Yeah, we're taking a language which isn't especially useful in the day to day sense, but consider:

1) French is the language of love. We have a built-in advantage in seduction. All we have to say is 'Bonjourrr,' and people interpret it as 'I am smart and ridiculously sexy.' HA, Spanish won't do that for you, and German would be more likely to get you a punch in the face.

2) All those amazing novels and poetry? Written by the French. And they're even better when read in French. Camus actually makes slightly more sense!

3) Yeah, it's nice to travel anywhere, but with French you can go to Paris! The city of cities! Or you can go to Vietnam or Africa or Canada! Anywhere your heart desires, your dream will come true.

4)When studying the French Revolution in a class of Spanish speakers (cough AP Euro cough), it gives you the right to make fun of those students and teacher absolutely SLAUGHTERING the French language. I mean, how many ways can you say 'Jacobins' before it is impossible to keep the laughter in. And I am always puzzled with the difficulty with 'Francois'. Granted, my accent is certainly not perfect, but compared to English, French is a walk in the park to pronounce.

5) Finalement, la nourriture! C'est magnifique! Les crepes, la clafoutis, le fromage...So much!

SO. ENJOY THIS WEEK. ALL OF US FRENCH KIDS WILL. AND YOU ARE REQUIRED TO BE HAPPY IF WE ARE.
Believe me, it's rare that you see me smiling in the halls. Enjoy it while it lasts ;)

Here's some laughable points for you:

"Bouillabaisse is only good because cooked by the French, who, if they cared to try, could produce an excellent and nutritious substitute out of cigar stumps and empty matchboxes."

How many Frenchmen does it take to change a light bulb?
One. He holds the bulb and all of Europe revolves around him.

An old saying: Raise your right hand if you like the French.... Raise both hands if you are French.

Say, Say, Say

I think I can vocalize the thoughts of just about everyone reading this with a single statement: It's been a tough week.

I am, essentially, dead: emotionally, physically, mentally, etc.

So it was a great relief and comfort to me Thursday night when I discovered a certain musician whose soft, optimistic voice had me wondering why Colbie Callait ever became famous with talent like this lurking all over Youtube. In fact, Kesang Marstrand (BEST NAME, btw) popped up on my Melody Gardot Pandora radio, and before I had listened to half of "Bodega Rose," I cycled through every single song involving Kesang's voice.

Odd shadows of trees in the park
Claim the darkest dark
While we sleep
Tangled beneath the covers
Tangled in each other
And try to dream deep

Bodega Rose by Kesang Marstrand, directed by J. Wyatt Wilson from Kesang Marstrand on Vimeo.

As whenever I discover a new artist, I spread the word about Kesang to those whom I thought would care the most. Now it's your turn!

My absolute FAVORITE song of all time (for the moment, at least) is "Say, Say, Say," a cover (or as Kesang says it, "a tribute") of Paul McCartney's and Michael Jackson's duet. Now, I personally had no idea that they had ever done a duet, or had even spoken to each other...but you learn something new every day. The original song:



AMAZING video, but below average for the both of them in terms of listenability. Now, force your minds to calm down. Think about a situation in which you were hurt by someone. Slow your heart, switch your ears from pop mode to smooth, sultry Norah Jones' style, and give it a listen.



While the first song, "Bodega Rose," appealed to my melodic sensibilities the most, this song has those lyrics which just stick. They're like glitter. Once you apply it, it will never disappear. You will always find glitter on that outfit you wore that night. Every time you are hurt, the refrain of this song, with its repetition and simple rhymes, will push you to those tears which are floating so near the surface of your eyes. They certainly are not drying, as Kesang sings.

The song offers no solution. You are left to deal with your own grief. The only thing the song asks is for closure, actually. The singer, the listener, all one wants is a truth of some sort. Of course it will sting. Of course it will fester, burn, hurt terribly. But all that will pass. However, the song has to be finished. It ends with an incomplete arpeggio, leaving it open for you to answer the question, be what it may.

So, take a deep breath and face your fears. Then, realize that your emotions are mirrored in the lives of the majority of the 7 billion people on this earth. If anything is a failure, than it's the fact that humanity was made to feel so deeply. But imagine a life without those intense emotions. You would have nothing. It would be an endless night, a Bodega rose.

Disclaimer: Life is truly as cliché as I just made it out to be. Deal with it.

Why I Write

This is an essay I wrote for a writing scholarship. Feedback, please?

I fell in love with the Nancy Drew series as a second grader. I could barely go to the bathroom by myself, yet I worked through the fifty book series, imagining myself as the crime fighting heroine. Somehow, I realized early on that I was not destined to fight crime and solve mysteries; I cried at the sound of a lawn mower, actually. Not the greatest background for a fearless leader. Instead, I started to dream of writing stories, of creating that perfect character which all my readers would aspire to be like, of becoming an inspiration to frightened little girls like myself. Carolyn Keene replaced Nancy Drew as my muse.

But, all things must end sooner or later. It was fifth grade for me. I had written my own little stories, “Harold the Ant”, “Haley Evelyno: the founder of Tabasco and Bayous in Louisiana”, and I had even written a poem about Biblical characters all stuck on Noah’s ark together. I had destroyed the ring with Frodo, fought the White Witch with Aslan, and ridden Black Beauty over and over again amongst the rolling hills of my imagination. However, despite all this positive reinforcement from places other than Nancy’s little blue convertible, I was devastated when my older sister abruptly informed me that Carolyn Keene did not, in fact, exist; she was actually manifested in many ghost writers all working together for a large corporation.

And that was when I decided that I was destined to be a writer, to transform writing from a money-making company-led pursuit into an artistic and stimulating mission. Scoot over, Shakespeare! I would be better than ‘Carolyn Keene’; I would create a world just as amazing as Nancy Drew’s, but all by myself without relying on another person’s originality. I would bake the cake AND frost it AND consume it, all in one fell swoop.

However, though I always put ‘author’ as my future career on the questionnaires I had to fill out as a middle-schooler, I never actually wrote anything outside of school. Sure, I could write great stories, but I had to have a topic to follow, or else I hit the speed bump before even turning the ignition. Finally, in high school, I had an English teacher who saw in me something different. He gave me rather good grades for my analytical writing, and equally appropriate grades for my rhetorical arguments. As my physics grade dropped, my English grade soared, and I finally saw writing as an outlet into which I could pour all my accumulated emotions from other areas of my life. I took a creative writing class and received the same encouragement. I began to write constantly, criticizing society, books, music, film, politics, people, etc., even sacrificing math problems once in a while to update my highly successful blogs. I write to escape from the demands of my baby brother, the stress of my friends, even [secret] the demands of my mother. I am always busy writing, and from experience, I know that I work much better when I keep busy. Writing has become my lifesaver, the activity to which I devote much of my free time. I would never even consider giving it up; I would not be able to function. The incentive of hearing praise and seeing my writing published is exhilarating, but I am truly happiest when in the midst of an eye-opening analysis. This is what writing has given to me; the least I can do is to continue to write, to give others the opportunity to be inspired in the same way.

Life Happens.

People annoy me.
Yes, that probably means you.
And you, and you, and you.

This year was not supposed to be stressful. I was supposed to coast through my classes, have a real social life, finish all my college applications early, record an album, find the cure to cancer, write a best-selling novel, and learn how to underwater basket-weave.

FAT CHANCE

SO, I'm at the same place I was last year, minus physics and before-school classes, plus a license and emotional issues.
And why do you care?
Ehhh, you probably don't, really.

And so, continuing my several week tradition of list-making (OBSESSION), here's a list of things that have made my life bearable over the past several weeks which also do not include the people who annoy me (yes, YOU!).

1) Knit a scarf. Stylish (at least...sometimes), cheap, and very relaxing. Yes, I do knit from time to time. I'm pretty much a grandmother in a gorgeous young girl's body ;)

2) The Cat Empire. This Australian band of wonder has never failed to make me feel ecstatic. I recommend instantly youtubing them. Like, NOW. Actually, I'll force you to hear them...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtFxo4mpiKg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Vonv8oO6ak&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vfl9Zc2Dtok&feature=related

3) Facebook chat. Yeah, it's supposed to be counterproductive, but for a writing mind like mine, having a typed conversation gets the creative juices flowing. There is a drawback, though. Ten minutes on the computer can turn into several hours, depending on how interesting the conversation [cough...person] on the other end happens to be. This can also be dicey, because by talking to one person, you are subject to being attacked by the other 100+ friends who are online, of which there are only maybe 3 that you actually want to talk to...

4) Baby brother. Get one, asap. Always good for a free hug, hair-pulling, and, if you're lucky, a half-eaten cupcake.

5)Piano. Busting out with Beethoven's Concerto in C Major is extraordinarily soothing, y'all.

6) Movies with cheesy romantic plots. Try Notting Hill or Sleepless in Seattle. If you're really adventurous, try a black and white movie: Casablanca, It Happened One Night, Marx Brothers. You need popcorn and/or hot chocolate for this as well, and some sort of blanket or cushioney pillow/person.

7) Public Library. Browse through the CD's and DVD's. Pick out something you've never heard of before. Catch the eye of the guy rooting through the Desperate Housewives collection. Then head to the books, and pick out a decidedly non-classic. Not only will you feel better about your writing skills, but the sordid sex and graphic violence will intoxicate you into forgetting your own awful failure of a life.

8) Bubble tea, frozen yogurt, or peanut butter. Bubble tea, in case you don't know, is a wonderful Thai creation which consists of a tea smoothie (I recommend a chai blend or green tea) with huge tapioca pearls at the bottom which you suck up with an oversized straw. In other words, heaven. For frozen yogurt, drive down the street and you'll find one eventually. Peanut butter with chocolate, or Nutella. Spread on Nilla wafers. A big glass of two percent milk...dip them in, and, a soggy masterpiece.

9)Photography. Go take pictures of yourself. (but not THAT kind of picture...) Take pictures of nature, animals, small children, sidewalks, pencil shavings, grocery stores, headphones, tree bark, screwdrivers, iron clubs, shoes, other photos, roadkill, you get the point.

10) and the most soothing option? DRAW PICTURES. Apocalypses are the best. You can include all of your least favorite teachers getting blown up or hit by monster trucks, or your ex-boyfriend getting mauled by sharks or bears, or your high school getting attacked by North Korean nuclear bombs, or everyone getting sucked into a whirlpool except you and Johnny Depp. Ahh, I have revealed the secret of how I survive calculus class...

Or, you know, you could be productive and finish that essay, or math problem, or powerpoint.
But where's the fun in that?

How to be a Beastly Test-taker

Goodness. It's been several weeks since my last post, so in order to recapture my dear readers' attentions and perhaps convince several others to become faithful followers, I will be instructing you in the fine art of test-taking. Specifically, you juniors, how to ace the PSAT tomorrow. IF you ace the PSAT, you will be receiving at least five college letters per day, with an average of one full scholarship a week. Unfortunately, these scholarships are to schools like OU,Kings' College, University of Nebraska, and itty-bitty Methodist all-girls' schools in the middle of Iowa. Now, some of these might stir your innermost dreams, but really, I would appreciate a letter from Harvard or Yale a bit more...

Anyways, it's good to be recognized, and if you go to Lynch, then you're also treated to a breakfast complete with cake and a little flag with your name on it. Very much worth the extra effort.

Here are some tips that you will not regret following:

1) Sleep a bit. If you don't, then that impromptu nap you indulge in during that fascinating critical reading section(astronomical observations about the innermost ring of Saturn definitely has been my favorite) might result in some slobbering that will smudge your answers.

2) Eat breakfast. Otherwise everyone in your testing room will hate you by the end of the four hours after listening to your stomach growl incessantly. Believe me, I could have boosted my score by at least three or four points if not for the distractions from my fellow test-takers' bodily noises.

3) Drink coffee. This especially helps if you ignore step 1. However, either make sure you have a strong bladder or abstain from more than one cup. Calculating the weight of twenty-three storage bins full of confetti is much more difficult when a much heavier load is sitting in your bladder. Just fyi-ing all that obvious stuff.

4) Get assigned to a classroom with a cool teacher. Yes, I realize this is not technically under your control, but use some telepathic skills to communicate your wish to your counselor. Perhaps it'll work if you're REALLY as smart as you pretend to be. Anyways, with a cool teacher you can skip most or all of the hour set aside for teaching you how to bubble in circles and spell your name, and instead you can just take the damn test already.

5) Bring a calculator. "All of the problems on this test can be completed without a calculator." Yeah, RIGHT. SURE. If you can multiply 1327.5 times 6 to the fourth power within the 25 minutes set aside for the math section with time left over to do the other 20+ problems, then I hope you plan on applying to MIT (which most definitely DOES NOT stand for the Massachusetts Institute of Theatre).

6)Don't sit in an uneven desk. A recent study has shown that a wobbly desk psychologically screws with your head, and as your desk vibrates, your head mixes up all the information, creating a big alphabet number soup that translates onto the page as eraser marks and lost hope. Seriously.

7) Don't get a song stuck in your head before the test unless it's a catchy math tune that helped you to memorize the equations for semi-circles and twenty-two sided figures. Oh wait. They provide all the equations anyways. Way to waste time, dude.
Here, I'll help you give your opponents an advantage:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgkHd6eBfoE&feature=related
Good luck with those problems!

8) Guess only if you can eliminate one or more answers, and therefore, one or more percent of the 1.5 million students taking the test. Duh.

9) Be smart. If you're not, then you're sunk. Blame your parents, you inherited a good portion of their intelligence.

10) Remember, even when you're being bullied for your glasses or made fun of for breaking the curve, just remember, it's cool to be smart. Look at me.
'Nuff said.

The Piñata

The candy falls out of the broken Dora the Explorer piñata and the exuberant children push and shove to get to it first. The proud parents look on, viewing the savagery with pleasure, each thinking of their child as the next Babe Ruth or Muhammad Ali.

However, one little girl stands on the sidelines, tears rolling down her face. Her mother and best friend rush over, simultaneously offering the girl Kleenexes, pawfuls of candy, and questions.

“What’s wrong?”
“You want some candy?”
“Is it time to go home?”

The girl nods at the last question and wordlessly follows her mother who apologizes and thanks the host. The girl, with a dripping tissue, sops up the tears still falling freely. The other children stare at her as she and her mother leave.

As they drive home, the mother peppers her daughter with questions, receiving silence and muffled sobs in return. The anxious mother phones the doctor and the girl’s father, who both tell the mother to relax. For the rest of the day, the girl cradles her dolls and stuffed giraffe, soaking their cloth bodies with tears. The mother, seeking to consol her baby, offers her chocolate and other sweets, which are all refused.

Finally, during dinner, the girl breaks down completely. Puzzled and close to hysteria herself, the mother picks up her daughter and nearly screams, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

To this the little girl replies, “Mommy, didn’t the dolly have a heart? Didn’t we break the dolly’s heart?”

Don't be Blue on Black and White Day: Tips for Homecoming

IN a few weeks, high schools will kick off that wonderfully wacky tradition called Homecoming.
Why it is called Homecoming escapes my linguistic brain, for rarely do any alumnus show up at the actual football game, and never do any show up to the grind...whoops, I meant 'dance'.
Anyways, many of you manly men are probably wondering WHOM you should ask, HOW you should ask, and WHAT you should do to make that certain girl say yes.

Leave it up to me, mes amis. I. am. the. Homecoming. Helper.

Now, you may be thinking, "How is this stupid blogger qualified to tell me what to do for Homecoming?" If you're still reading this, you just answered your own question. You are probably a confused, pubescent young boy, lovestruck but with less social grace than a worm. BUT AFTER READING THIS, YOU WILL BE A GLOWWORM.

I am qualified because I happen to be a female who would actually appreciates and enjoys when guys profess their undying love to me, no matter whether you're hunky footballer, tall basketballer, cool skateboarder, melodious choir member, nerdy chess club manager, short wrestler, smooth swimmer, brave band member, etc. etc. so on and so forth. Now, granted, professions of undying love come rarely these days, and not only to me. There seems to be more fear circulating nowadays that that girl will turn you down and then go blog about it or post a Facebook message making fun of you or send you nasty texts afterwards. Get over yourself. If she tells you to f#$% off, then seriously, tell her to go douse herself in antifreeze and visit Alaska. See how that works for her.
Honestly, I am all for going back to hippie-times, if only for the free love available from everyone! Seriously, I would support the legalization of certain illegal substances if it got men down on their knees proposing in the hallways of school. I mean, at least that would be worth a good laugh during passing period.

Anyways, we all need love of some sort. So why not start with Homecoming?
1) DO give her flowers or chocolate or something pretty and girly when you ask. I mean, who doesn't want to carry around decomposing pink things all day or gorge themselves on chocolate so they can have an excuse to get a new dress for homecoming!? I mean, I don't, but I'm probably the exception. I gorge myself on chocolate often enough anyways...

2) IF you don't follow step 1, then DO ask her in a creative way. Like bribe a teacher to put an extra question at the end of a scantron: "Suzy Cream-Cheese, will you go to Homecoming with me?" Then she will scream/gasp/faint/throw up/smile/gag and no vocal answer is required! Or, if you are one of those rare males that actually enjoys conversation, just bring it up one day in random conversation. No big deal.

3)IF no other date presents itself, ask a best friend or a complete stranger. A best friend will not judge the color of your tux, and a complete stranger has no idea who the hell you are, so no fear. Just be careful who you pick up off the street, especially in the area surrounding Lynch, cause you don't want to end up with a Bryan Adams' girl...

4)DON'T ask over Facebook, text message, and preferably not a phone call either. Face to face leads to cheek to cheek. Trust me on this. But it doesn't really matter. So, for chrissake, just get it over with.

5)ASK her if she actually wants a stupid mum. Those things weigh more than most girls do, especially if the girl is a freshmen.(I swear, those kids get smaller every year!) Save some money and take her out somewhere really nice. But not an uber-classy place, cause we all know that Homecoming dresses are made to revel in their slittiness, not in their sophistication. When all else fails, go to Chili's (but not if you're in a group with me; I hate Chili's).

6)DON'T invite a freshman if you are a senior, or a senior if you are a freshman. (I'd like to meet the freshman who would do that. Shoot me an email.) Wait for college to bridge age-levels. Right now, try to avoid that evolutionary urge to prey on younger generations.

7)DON'T grind at the dance. Nobody wants to see that. Get a room. Thanks.

8)DO make a note of the color of her dress. This will come in handy if you end up marrying her. Otherwise, you'll be like this couple:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sISWPzEqHLQ

9)DO serenade her. It's every girl's dream. And by that, I mean my dream. And if you can't sing, don't attempt to unless you like getting laughed at.

10) Finally, DON'T take this as the final word on Homecoming. Unless you're planning on asking me. Then you should.

ENJOY!!!