I'm writing a paper.
No you're not, Tea, you're writing a blog post.
Am not.
Are too.
Am not.
Are too.
Am not.
Are too.
This sounds like the sort of argument I have with my boyfriend.
Your boyfriend sounds like an idiot.
He's not.
Are you sure?
Yes, he's just occasionally somewhat dense.
I don't think you're writing a paper right now.
That's because I'm not.
Aren't you?
Well, I should be. I just don't seem to care enough about why we got into the Iraq war.
But it's important!
But I'd rather do math! Also, Archie just called me. Apparently he's really dissatisfied with the social scene at his college of choice and is going to try to transfer here. I wished him luck, but, well--transfers here don't really work.
I guess this is what comes of trying to play the admissions game.
Don't be mean.
Why not?

Diplomacy

I played my first game of it today. We only had five people, though, so the dynamic wasn't quite right. It was me, Genie, Julie, Peter, and Josh (though Cammie did eventually show up).

It took us an hour and a half to read the rulebook. This was partially because Julie outright refused to read it out loud, which meant that we read over it individually while the remaining people were talking. Genie actually never read it--she listened to my explanations and then repeatedly flubbed up the rules during gameplay.

We also were not particularly diplomatic. We tried, but it's difficult to make teams with only that many people, so alliances were boring and not that interesting. I allied with Julie, who turned out to be somewhat useless, and then we all kind of went off on solo campaigns. I attempted to worm information out of Peter, but he refused to tell me anything and said he was "planning a psychological invasion of Germany." Totally not helpful.

But whatever. In Soviet Russia, Diplomacy diplomacize you. Or something to that effect (I was Russia...though not Soviet, of course. Early 1900s and all that).

Okay, it is officially way too late for this. Goodnight world.

Super Hot Physics

AKA learning about stars...at SHP! (am I clever or what?).

I took the train in with Clara, who is by far the calmest person I know about college decisions (well, it might be close on Kathrya, but she is nonetheless very chill). This is in marked contrast to my own behavior...which we're going to try not to think about. Because if I don't write it down, it didn't happen.

For your entertainment, I've compiled some quotes by my astro professor:

"The moon looks like a barren Italy...sort of like Afghanistan. I mean, really, why is anyone fighting over that place? Its three major food groups are metamorphic, igneous, and sedimentary."

"Fools and Galileo do not suffer each other gladly."

"The Galileo spacecraft looks like someone put it together with an erector set while drunk."

"Atoms are like tuning forks."

"Thermal physics is kind of like Sweden."

"So, if I assume that the sun is made of doughnuts, I can use this assumption to calculate its lifetime."

"Rivers are instrumental to the gradual destruction of life as we know it."

Astronauts

On this evening, an astronaut came to speak with us. This was almost as awesome as when D.E. Shaw gave us free t-shirts.

It was really neat, but she kind of kept going on and on and on, and then Teresa started asking her all of these questions about how you go to the bathroom in space, and Lady Astro gave really long answers, and I tried really really hard not to fall asleep, and this may have been the lecture where I sat next to Bing, and he would drift off (and by drift off, I mean his head would fall into his lap as he crumpled into sleep) and then I'd elbow him.

Anyways, that was that lecture. I feel like there's meant to be more detail than that, but, well, ehhhh.

Instead, I will use this post to discuss mentorship awesomeness.

Every so often, Bashir would actually show up in mentorship, as opposed to going to W20 and moaning about how he didn't have anything to do, or sleeping on the couch, or making his phone do this really annoying beeping thing which I disabled midway through my second mentorship week when he wasn't paying attention.

On one particular day, Bashir wanted to hear about New Jersey. I believe this was triggered by the time he spiked his hair up for the WTP dance and I said he shouldn't try to be DJ Ronnie D from Jersey Shore (I just googled the cast of characters to see which one had the spiky hair, I have never watched the show). I drew him a map of the East coast, then did a squiggly line and dropped California on the other side of the board, indicating all relevant portions of the U.S. When Bashir asked about everyone else, I drew Arizona and Colorado in, then dropped dots for Andy and Dawson indicating their respective Mid-Western states.

Bashir then took over and taught Didge and me a lesson on Lebanese history, geography and politics, which I promptly forgot almost all of, aside from that there is some major division between North and South Lebanon, and there are beaches on one side and mountains on the other, and whichever North/South side Bashir lives in thinks the fighting is stupid because it scares the tourists.

Didge said something about Australia, but I forget what. 'Twas quite fun.

On a different mentorship day, I was feeling rather stressed out. This is not that surprising, as my emotions tend to always be in either "really, really happy" or "completely and utterly freaked out," although I often manage to freak out and be happy at the same time, but that's completely irrelevant to this point.

I was in a state of panic over RSI-related work, college-related work, and Dawson-and-Rube-related issues (those boys have caused me way, way too much emotional stress). I also wasn't eating or sleeping properly, because I kept forgetting to and my mind was really busy, and Didge, who had spent the last week teaming up with Ash and refusing to leave lunch until I'd had cold-healing soup, was not pleased.

Our plan of action was for us to go get office supplies so that I could organize my research materials and feel better about that, and then come back to the Undergraduate Chateau and let me talk or sleep, depending on which would help more.

So, we took the art budget supplied by our mentor (twenty bucks) and walked ourselves down to the student union, which turned out to be mostly a really souped up Barne's and Noble's, including a random barbershop in the back.

I'm still not really sure what's up with that, but we went downstairs for school supplies and textbooks, passing on our way an absolutely ginormous bin of extremely fuzzy and fluffy pillows.

We each pulled out a large blue pillow (the blue ones are always the best), then spent twenty minutes walking around the store looking for file folders, which we eventually found in rainbow, and dry-erase markers, which were also rainbow.

We returned the pillows, and I made an impulse purchase of purple earbuds and a paperback copy of Tess of the D'ubervilles.

Then we went back to the Undergraduate Chateau, and I ranted for two hours, interrupted by him telling me really adorable stories about his girlfriend, and then I went back to the dorm and he went to W20 to work more.

Then we saw the astronaut.

I should probably put those in a more chronological order, but, meh.

Not happening.

New England, Rediscovered

By the time we'd finished our own cooking (while attempting to ensure that the midwesterners didn't give anybody food poisoning), we were twenty minutes late, so Chao, Maxwell, Gopika and I raced (well, walked quickly) to 6-120 for presentations.

Now, I'm going to walk you through a presentation on the Northeast.

\begin{frame}{Title Slide: The Northeast}

aka Winners of the Civil War

Clearly the best region of the US

RSI 2010.

\end{frame}

When this slide was first displayed, Vito counted down 3,2,1, and we all simultaneously popped our collars.

We stood, in this order: Chao, Sarah, me, Patrick, Gopika, Zorah, Stratton, Livny, James, Maxwell. If there was anyone else, they're cropped out of my picture. We looked, if I do say so myself, polo-tastic.

\begin{frame}{Some Geography}

\begin{figure}

Map of the U.S. with New England + Pennsylvania + New York + New Jersey highlighted

\end{figure}

\end{frame}

James talked through the above slide.

\begin{frame}

Some History

-1775: Revolutionary War -- started in the Northeast.

-1789: Capital of US was in NY, then PA
-1804: Northeast started abolishing slavery
-1848: Seneca Falls, NY convention first discusses women's suffrage
-1865: Civil War - won by the North(east)
-1865: Northeast forcibly abolished slavery in the South
-1920s: Jazz popularized in NY
-1945: United Nations established, headquartered in NY
-1969: Woodstock music festival in NY
-2010: RSI 2010 held in MA

\end{frame}

James discussed this slide as well. The southerners started booing when he read the line about jazz, though. Poor form on their part, if you ask me.

\{begin}{frame}{Some People You Might Know About}

-Benjamin Franklin
-John Adams
-John Hancock
-Paul Revere
-Mark Twain
-Alexander Hamilton
-Theodore Roosevelt
-Franklin Roosevelt
-John Kennedy
-Carl Sagan
-Hillary Clinton
-Joe Biden
-The cast of Jersey Shore

\end{frame}

Maxwell took this slide. He got through all of them up to Carl Sagan, who he didn't know. Jersey Shore was also mysterious to him, so he finished by saying that whoever they were, they couldn't be cooler than Patrick.

\begin{frame}{North and South}

N: 55 million people.

S: 55 million opossums (before Sunday dinner)

N: 8 of the 13 original colonies

S: 12 of the 12 Confederate States

N: John Kennedy

S: George W. Bush (although he was born in CT)

N: Snow

S: Hurricanes

N: White collars

S: Rednecks

\end{frame}

I discussed that slide, and I got to make a lot of jokes at the expense of southerners (eating roadkill, lowbrow politics, etc.). It was almost enough to make me think that I'm funny.

\begin{frame}{Politics}

Map of the U.S. with Obama and McCain voting states mapped out.

Large image of a colored donkey.

\end{frame}{Politics}

I think I made Patrick take over at this point. Or possibly Stratton.

\begin{frame}{GeoPolitics of the Northeast}

If we look at a series of nations, we begin to notice a disturbing conclusion about the Northeast of each one. Now let's generalize...North Vietnam? Rebellious. North Korea? We beat them hard and good way back when. Anarchist Catalonia? We all know what they're up to. Thus, it is only a matter of time before our Northeast, too, falls to the rebellion.

\end{frame}

That bit was Vito's baby. I still don't quite get it, but the Catalonians seemed to find it funny.

\begin{frame}

Colleges in the Northeast

\end{frame}

Chao went up and listed about a zillion schools. Then we all tried to talk about our individual states, and we got cut off for time-related reasons.

Visiting Princeton: College Number Something Out of Far Too Many

As Ginny detailed here, we went to Princeton. Yay Princeton! I, of course, fell in love with yet another school. God knows how I'm going to manage to make any sort of decision when the time comes.

Avon slept over the night before, which mostly consisted of me trying to work secrets out of her and her responding with things like "well, this one time, I pretended I wasn't going anywhere so that he wouldn't have to drive me," and me being like "how are you so perfect?" in my head, but then I remember- Avon is Avon. We also spent a considerable amount of time on the computer. She had a conversation with Lysander in one window about banal items of interest, such as what they'd done that day. Andy and I, on the other hand, spent twenty minutes talking about the origins of the names of the various planets, with a few digressions.

Digression example:

Andy: Saturne in French, Saturnus is the Latin. Like "Marcus Aurelius" and such.

Tea: What, the French call him Marcu Aureliu? Oh, also, which came first, the names or the planets?

Andy: Probably the planets. The -us is Latin, I mean, like Marcus Aurelius, and the French call him Marc-Auréle.

Tea: Was he the Roman guy who killed Caesar?

Andy: err...I don't think so? Brutus?

Tea: Ahh, right. What was Aurelius again?

Andy: Marcus Aurelius was a stoic emperor, as in he was a Roman emperor and he practiced Stoicism. That's about all I know.

Tea: Everything from Western Humanities has blended together into a large blur of togas and "I WAS GOING A BUCK FIFTY ON THE AUTOBON"

Andy: ...uhhh

Tea: my western teacher was insane.

Andy: O_O

In the morning, Ginny showed up about ten minutes after my alarm went off. I believe I answered the door while brushing me teeth. Then I ate breakfast and then we left. Great story, no?

The big problem was that the GPS and google directions disagreed, so my mother dearest decided she wanted to just stay on I-95, but we somehow missed the turn, as all of the signs in New Jersey contradict each other, including signs telling you to make a u-turn at the next intersection, which is completely crazy, followed immediately by "RIGHT TURN AHEAD" for the same road. Very, very odd.

Anyways, Princeton was wonderful. I like that you don't have to apply to one school, and that the first two years of requirements for all science majors are identical, so you don't have to know going in what, precisely, you want to specialize in. And I like that, you know, it's PRINCETON, with all of the awesome academics and amazing undergraduate programs that comes with that. Oh, and the admissions office had extremely comfy chairs. That should be another factor in my school decisions: comfiness of chairs. They are, after all, an extremely important consideration.

No Matter Where You Go You Stay Where You Are

As some of my older readers know, when I am not in the mood to generate a current post, I reach into the past. For today, I'll go back to an old English mindbender, written on September 11th, 2008.

The Mindbender is: No matter how far you go, you stay where you are.

A Summary:

People are boring, and constant, and never ever change, and I think that whole concept is obnoxious. My introduction is only two sentences long because I am lazy. Also, I'm using the first person, because I'm cool like that.

The Palace Thief is a book. It involves a big Roman history competition and togas, but all anybody cares about is that Patrick Dempsey is in the movie. I suppose that I can let Cammie keep her weird George Clooney thing if I can have Dempsey. Anyways, the cheating boy in the competition grows up to be a cheating, good for nothing grown up. He stays where he is. Isn't that a great example?

I think the cheating boy is a dickwad. I'm going to try to pretend that he's an isolated dickwad.

Oh, darn, Sarah Bareilles says that people don't change either. Since it's set to music, she must be right. Wait- Sarah's actually talking about moving around in the literal sense. But it's a song, so we'll pretend that it's figurative.

People are always trying to change, so the mindbender is wrong. I know that it's actually right, but I am going to be an optimistic for as long as I possibly can.

The End

Interestingly, even though the mindbender was written on September 11th, I make no mention of September 11th, despite the fact that it is a somewhat important date. To see if I even thought about the historical significance (twin towers! ahhh!), I went through my old journals to find something. Below is my September 11th entry:

Still Crampy. Still bleeding profusely from my vagina. It is muy disgusto.

Mom's going to the hospital tomorrow to have her uterus scraped out. She has to be anesthesized and shit. It's kinda annoying, but standard procedure. Intellectually, I'm sure she'll be fine, but I can't shake this odd foreboding feeling.

Though that could be more related to my audition tomorrow. Turns out there'll probably be only one piano, so that guaranteed spot- basically unattainable. Not that I won't try, but I'm somewhat lacking, confidence wise.

But it's alright. Worst case, I'll apologize to the set painters for my illness and join up. I'll go once or twice a week and paint out my sorrows, then try not to cry when everyone walks out and they're having fun and Ryan is being sexy and wahhhh!!!!

Well, that did not help.

I need to go to sleep I'll try to dream of D (I think?) from music theory, and hope that Mario turns out to be wonderful (and takes the train).

See, better already.

As I'm sure you noticed, this, too, contains no mention of terrorists. My aversion to discussion of world disasters seems to have been present for at least a year.

Interestingly, the mindbender is saved as 5.doc, but is titled mindbender 4.

How very peculiar.

The Pain of Grammatical Errors

How does anyone expect to be taken seriously in life if they can't even bother to properly punctuate an important class assignment? I attend one of the best high schools in the country, but these kids seem to be barely literate. I'm reading briefs for cases, and I have to stop myself from cringing.

Examples are below, my comments in italics:

• Is The Washington State mitigating factors law a violation of the Eight Amendment's Ban on "Cruel and Unusual Punishment"?

Because Everything must Sometimes be Capitalized, and punctuation goes Outside the Parentheses.

• He went into the School Library and opened fire on the students, causing 4 students to dies and 5 to be brutally injured.

Spell out integers under ten. Since when is a school library a proper noun? Has your English teacher taught you nothing?

• The Court found that he had bipolar disease but was sentenced to death due to the brutality of the crime under Washington State Law.

Murder is only brutal under Washington State Law- it is soft and fluffy in North Dakota. Bipolar disorder is no longer a disorder; it is now a disease. Don't get to close- you might catch it!

• The ruling of the Washington State Supreme Court was incorrect because the

Yes, let's all not finish our own damn thesis statements, what a phenomenal idea!

• In Ten similar Case of Eddings vs. Oklahoma, Eddings was convicted of murder, he was then interviewed by a team of psychiatrists and was proven to have an unstable behavior, he was exempt from the Death penalty due to prior cases like Lockett v. Ohio through individualized consideration of mitigating factors required by the Constitution.

This is a boy who will not pass is SATs, he will never write a word after high school, his college professors will bang their heads against their desks due to the absurd grammar of his general writings.

• Although People who are 18 years old aren't considered to be a minor, this could've also been a factor within this case because the Teen's mind hasn't fully developed.

I want to stop skewering Stanley here, but it just keeps getting worse and worse. In fact, I'm just not going to read the rest. Moving along...

• No 09-_______

Is it really that difficult to fill out the form?

• Is the Washington State mitigating factors law a violation of the Eighth Amendment's ban on "cruel and unusual punishment."

Weirdly, Word auto-corrects this to a question mark outside of the parentheses. Has my grammatical education steered me down the wrong path?

Chuckles of Doom

As of yesterday, I had 269 posts. This made me chuckle. I can't remember what Tybalt's sequence of them was (he told Kathrya, who told me a while ago). I think we determined that 691:$ is two people sixty-nineing on a bed with wheels that somebody left money under.

I'm making completely crappy progress on the applications front. I write a little. I read a lot. I write a little more. I eat a lot. I stare at the page and revise a sentence. I go and see Avatar. I come home. I go on College Confidential and read other applicants stats. I get gloomy. I stop writing. I wring my hands over the futility of it all. I blog.

As you've no doubt noticed, I'm very productive.

To do tomorrow:

-write entire methods section of ASR paper

-finish printing those stupid briefs for gov.

-finish application, photocopy test scores, panic about typos

-pack up binders that have been scattered across the four corners of the house

I think I can handle is. Maybe. Kind of. Probably not, but I suppose I'll manage.

I'm actually looking forward to being back, if you can believe it. I love being here, and doing nothing, but learning is kind of fun (although I have been learning perl, I'm struggling with the newest chapter. Who knew that subroutines could be so complicated?)

Twelve Months of Tea

This is blatantly ripped off from Dr. Jay, who stole it from Dr. Isis. It is the first post of each month of the year, accompanied by the first sentence of the post and the first comment on it.

January: I apologize for never writing and rave about my love of Girl Overboard.

Well, would you look at that. I haven't written in a very, very, very long time.

------I was still blogging anonymously, so there are no comments on this post.

February: I read A Thousand Splendid Suns and experience emotional overload.

I forget, sometimes, what finishing a good book will do to you.

------Ditto.

March: I attempt to teach my younger sisters to notice sexism in advertising.

There's gonna be snow tomorrow, and I, for one, am psyched.

------Do I need to write anything?

April: We are introduced to the perversions of Nyx's chemistry class.

Two tenth graders in science class today.

May: I introduce myself to the communications medium of texting.

The rest of the dream makes even less sense than the first half, so I think I won't bother with it.

------Vicky: HAHAHA your conversation with mario is really funny.... Question though: why would you possibly tell Mario that your random friend from camp types fast?? I can just see that scene: Mario sitting peacefully reading the WSJ, you texting away then you blurt out: Hey Mario, my camp friend can type fast!!

June: I blow off studying and my U.S. portfolio in order to make lots and lots of schedule permutations.

The massive tree chart at left is what I used to make certain that I had accurately determined all of my possible schedule options (I had, and they are included at the bottom of this post).

------Vicky: OMG teaaaaa.....I can't believe you did that!! usually I just randomly make like 9 scheds a couple days before arena!! that's sooo cool, would you make one for me??

July: I get lost at the train station.

I am back in my home, sweet home, and I am oh so very happy.

------Vicky: OMG TEA!!!!!! I was at the YMCA (on main street) because my brother was working out there (yea, I know Gretch, someone in my family does actually exercise!) and I went over to the snack machine to get a snack. The snack machine's background/casing was made with 5 or so pictures of kids playing sports at the Y. AND guess whose picture was big (like 3 feet tall 2 feet wide) and front and centered? MARIO'S!!! I was like OMG! it's mario and my mom was like who? and I was like "this boy Tea know" and my mom said "why would Tea know an 11 year old (it was a younger pic but it was unmistakably Mario!) and I was like "he's 15 or 16 now...." anyway, I just thought you'd want to know that there is a picture of your lover emblazoned on the TMCA food machine...(not just like a picture taped on, his image was actually part of the machine!!!) your most faithful mario spy, vicky/bruney.

August: A detailed description of plumbing issues in my house.

The plumbing in my bathroom, my sisters' bathrooms, the living room powder room and basement is out. Although my dad has not yet determined why, we still aren't allowed to so much as wash our faces in this half of the house.

------Gretchen: hmmm...not sure what to say...

September: I recount my first day of school.

Guess what, everybody- I survived.

------Gretchen: yeah, my day was okay until english. i sat in the front and i didn't see nyx for some reason. i was all alone... :( i'm going to see her in the morning tomorrow. still hoping...

October: I gush about science.

The math team advisor who is known to call the house at odd hours just called and informed that I'm on the A-team for the meet next week.

------Gretchen: noooo mrs. cumulonimbus didn't flag down Irving!!! we did. well holly did. we were in the library and cumulonimbus had alread yleft! holly was just like "irving! can you come over here for a second?" after he left we found out that she didn't actually know him. of course mrs. cumulonimbus knows Irving!! she's the only one who teaches physics C

November: Halloween is detailed.

I haven't posted for the past two days because I didn't get home until after midnight, at which point I figured there really wasn't much point, since it was actually tomorrow.

------Gretchen: what pants were you wearing?

December: I freak about Mrs. Hirten's group assignments.

The first day of class, she thought that Edmund and I were twins.

------Gretchen: i am so sorry for you. if it gets worse, feel free to come running into my english class

Bring Out Your Yarmulke

It's almost time to celebrate Hanukkah. I feel like that means that Vicky's birthday is soon. But I'm not positive. My memory is rather spotty, after all.

The one unfortunate aspect of Hannukah is the lack of really good music. Other than Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel, we're pretty much screwed. Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah is trying to stop that. He may be a conservative Mormon from Utah, but he promises, he's Jewish on the inside.

An exact quote from the article: Orrin Hatch of Utah loves Jews, songwriting, and Hanukkah. He also calls Barbara Streisand his idol. I tried to find a link to a song I always hear on PLJ about a jew and a gentile where the Jew says he loves Barbara Streisand.

I have a feeling this reporters personal dislike of Hatch made him/her a wee bit more tongue in cheek than is probably proper.

Fun facts- Hatch worked on the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, which was later struck down by the Supreme Court in a case whose syllabus I read for Government. What a coinkydink!

Also, Hatch tried to create a bill which allowed companies to seize your computer if you were found to possess pirated music or other materials. Very scary.

Anywho, here's Hatch's video, and here's the Adam Sandler Happy Hanukkah song, which I haven't heard yet this season, but really consider a necessity.

Mrs. Hirten Attempts to Orchestrate Romance

The first day of class, she thought that Edmund and I were twins. Now, however, I fear her thoughts have moved to, shall we say, different areas. When he was late to class today, she looked around the room. "Where is Edmund?" she asked. When no one responded, she looked annoyed. "He could use some work. I think he needs a girlfriend," she finished, and looked directly at me. Then she put us in the same group for the Supreme Court simulation. Please don't, Mrs. Hirten. I beg of you, please disabuse yourself of any notions you've developed.

Also, enjoy the holiday theme. In keeping with the advent, I will probably change it frequently.

I was going to talk about falling over...

but Kathrya has it covered, although she did miss the one where I fell off of my own chair during math.

In that case, I'll have to use an alternate story.

One fundamentally awkward aspect of the school bathrooms is the presence of those little communal tampon bins, particularly in the cases where the bins were removed from the door and instead sit between the stalls, displaying their bloody contents to the world.

Now, I don't know about you, but I don't really want the acquaintance in the next stall over seeing the evidence of my menstrual cycle as it seeps through the toilet paper I wrapped my tampon up in. It's a private, personal part of being a woman. And I'm proud of my vagina and all that jazz, but I still think the blood is gross, and I generally avoid announcing the current state of my bits to the world, this blog and Nyx aside.

However, today, as I was swapping my own feminine hygiene products, Becky (an extremely petite senior in my physics and government classes) dropped an applicator into the bin. My first thought was "How odd, I thought seniors were post-menstrual and didn't get their periods."

The Phone Rings

I am simultaneously working on my Social Security paper and an English poster about the color green, so I ignore it.

Shelby answers, then comes over to my room.

"Tea, phone."

"Okay, who is it?"

"I dunno." Her eyes slide shiftily back and forth. "It sounds like a guy."

I roll my eyes and accept the phone, expecting it to be an overtired female whose voice she didn't recognize.

"Hello?" I say.

"Uhhh, hi," says the voice on the phone. Shockingly enough, it actually sounds male.

"Who is this?" I ask.

"Stanley," he replies. Stanley was in Gretchie's and my spanish class in eighth grade. He sat in front of me, and he left his gym shirt on under his t-shirt so you could see the writing through the back, and he smelled as if he didn't use deodorant. I haven't noticed a stench this year, but I had told him we were working on the same topic, and I'd gone through his outline with him after Mrs. Hirten gave him some horrific score to explain what he'd been doing wrong.

The call lasts about thirty seconds, in which I say, yes, writing a paragraph about the changing life expectancy since 1935 is absofreakinglutely fine and he says okay then, I'll see you in school on Monday.

I hope he doesn't make a habit of it.

Miscellaneous

I learned to spell that word from playing The Sims.

Mrs. Hirten said Yuuuuge instead of huge again. It made me cringe.

I've been trying to write down items worth blogging during the day, but I always lose my lists. I did manage to glean a few gems from my English binder, however.

Inverted sentences have the verb before the subject and sound like Yoda. For instance, "happy, I was, when I walked down the green hall."

I think Ms. Seltzia has death on her mind. When describing pungent flowers today, she asked if any of us had "been too a funeral home where there are lots of lilies."

Also, who knew that personification of nature is called pathetic fallacy?

And does anyone know where I can buy vanadyl sulfate?

To New York

Yesterday, I drove the pickup truck to the station. I felt very cool despite the fact that it was rainy and I couldn't open my windows and feel that breeze in my hair. I got there, parked successfully, and walked under the tunnel to the other side. The only person there was Helga, so I said I and we made a little bit of small talk until Melissa showed up. We made more small talk, wondering where everyone else was, until Melissa looked over my shoulder and said, "Is that Mario? It think it's Mario. It has the swagger." Mandeep refers to this swagger as the "awkward walk," but I suppose it could go either way.

We ended up walking over there, and as a group of seven people (eight if you count Jess, who was sitting awkwardly on a bench with her mother about three feet away), we achieved a profoundly awkward silence.

Once we got onto the train, we ended up in smaller groups (I sat in a four-seater with Mario, Irving, and Melissa). Irving worked his magical ability to make conversation. Whenever a gap got too long he'd fill it with questions like "oh, Mario, how do you like World?" (he's dropping it) or "So how's your lit-x paper?" (Melissa is reading Anna Karenina (which autocorrects to Keratin, which I was learning about in cyto this week omg!)) or "What did I miss in orientation?" (I don't know, I was at a different one). He also made a sending-or-receiving joke directed at Mario which Mario actually chuckled at. I think that if anyone other than Irving had made the joke, he'd have gotten angry, but since Mario wants to be Irving, he deals with it.

The one thing I wished I'd had on the train ride was something to fiddle with. Irving took out his A.P. Environmental notes to 'study' but didn't read them at all. Melissa had her cell phone, and texted and talked simultaneously. Mario spent the entire hour playing with a little black mechanical pencil, turning it in his hand, spinning the eraser, sliding the lead in and out, etc. I just had to stare into space over Melissa's shoulder when the conversation wore thin, because I had to be careful to avoid Sean, who, of course, showed up again. He won't be there next week though, so that at least is good.

Tomorrow

10 hours until SAT. I'm going to go to bed now.

But, just to keep you from getting bored....

I discovered my final planning from Western last year. I'm pretty sure that we got to pick our own topics, because I wrote about the effect of the French Revolution on the Catholic church, and I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who would actually care.

Basically, before, it was the official state religion, just like the Robin is the official state bird of our Connecticut. After, it was more like the Robin was a really well liked bird, but without the official stamp of approval, and if it were to chirp at us, we wouldn't be obliged to listen.

The Declaration of the Rights of Man, which is like the Declaration of Independence, but with a less catchy title and even more sexist phrasing, espoused religious freedom. The Civil Constitution of the Clergy said nice things about tolerance, originating the CCC, the primary rival of the slightly less tolerant KKK. This constitution reassigned bishops. I believe that this is a process similar to castling in a chess match.

Then, came the National convention and the reign of terror, which basically took the Catholic church to the guillotine, as well as making a ten day week and confusing the crap out of all the workers, who were especially disgruntled about having a seven day work week. The high level of church bashing, coupled with the severe difficulty involved in actually locating a Sunday in the new calendar, diminished church membership greatly.

Then, Napoleon put all the little pieces back together, like all the kings horses and all the king's men, only more successful.

The Universe

The massive tree chart at left is what I used to make certain that I had accurately determined all of my possible schedule options (I had, and they are included at the bottom of this post).

I spent most of my day watching history channel documentaries. The one about the history of and development of the Big Bang Theory was by far my favorite, but the one on the origins of the moon was also pretty cool. The one about the San Andreas fault was boring, but, in case you're interested, there is a 99% chance that there will be a major, building collapsing earthquake in the Los Angeles area within the next 30 years.

Good thing I don't live there.

Also, R.I.P. Ronald Takaki, who died last week. I'm currently quoting his text in my social studies essay, so I'll consider that my own form of memorialization. And yes, memorialization is an actual word. My spellcheck says so.

I also spent some time this weekend planning my schedule options, which are listed below.

1	Physics	Physics	Oil	Oil
2	Calculus	Calculus	Calculus	Calculus
3	Gym	Gym	Gym	Gym
4	Anthro	Anthro	Anthro	Anthro
5	Spanish	ASR	Spanish	ASR
6	ASR	Spanish	ASR	Spanish
7	Oil	Oil	Physics	Physics
8	English	English	English	English
1	Oil	Oil	Oil	Oil
2	Physics	Physics	Calculus	Calculus
3	Gym	Gym	Gym	Gym
4	Anthro	ASR	Physics	Physics
5	Calculus	Calculus	ASR	Spanish
6	Spanish	Spanish	Spanish	ASR
7	English	English	English	English
8	ASR	Anthro	Anthro	Anthro
1	English	English	English	English
2	Physics	Physics	Calculus	Calculus
3	Gym	Gym	Gym	Gym
4	ASR	Anthro	Physics	Physics
5	Calculus	Calculus	Spanish	ASR
6	Spanish	Spanish	ASR	Spanish
7	Oil	Oil	Oil	Oil
8	Anthro	ASR	Anthro	Anthro

everything that says oil painting is actually gov semester 1 and oil painting semester 2, and everything that says anthro is adv. drawing semester 1 and anthropology semester 2.

Napoleon

All I did today (and all I plan on doing) was sing with choir at church, so I'm going to treat you to a marvelous essay (with commentary, of course) about the French Revolution.

The French Revolution was a revolution of principals (Like the four useless administrators at our school). Its slogan was “Liberty, Fraternity, Equality” (this slogan was developed by a 15 person comité de développement de slogan. Other proposals were "La Guillotene: faster and easier than impalement" and "KILL THEM ALL!!!"). The people of the revolution fought to provide France with the general freedoms in the Declaration of the Rights of Man, equality for all, and a government of the people. Napoleon’s warping of the public opinion through propaganda and arrest of dissenters, misogynistic policies, and position as unchecked ruler of France denied the principles of the Revolution by ignoring freedom, equality, and the voice of the people (although, seriously, those revolutionaries botched up the freedom thing just fine on their own. Napoleon was merely the extremely short cherry on top that happened to possess a Napoleon Complex).

Napoleon's domestic policies denied the liberty of the French people. He censored the press and largely removed freedoms of speech. Napoleon is described as shaping public opinion through “crude forms of propaganda, but more importantly by the use of secret agents, arbitrary arrests, and executions.” (Lecture 15) (I feel that this should say secret sleuths, arbitrary arrests, and egomaniacal executions, for alliterative aims). Propaganda goes against the values of the revolution. The people supported him, but this was in part because they knew of no opposing views. “Printers and booksellers swore oaths of allegiance and all newspapers fell under state control.” (Lecture 15) People were controlled by what they knew. Like a horse with blinders on, they only went straight (My use of imagery is truly exceptional, non?). When they were allowed to make a decision, they would decide based on what they knew, which was very little. People’s liberties and powers of decision-making were removed by Napoleon’s dissent squashing policies (squoosh, squash, squishyyy, squelch). By preventing opposition, he prevented opinions, even though dissenting opinions started the revolution that brought him to power. According to the Declaration of the Rights of Man, “no one should be disturbed on account of his opinions”, and Napoleon’s destruction of dissenters obviously (like, duh!) ignored this. In addition, the declaration said, “The free communication of ideas and opinions is one of the most precious of the rights of man,” which clearly conflicts with Napoleons policy of propaganda. The Declaration of the Rights of Man was written to show what the revolters believed in. By ignoring the declaration, Napoleon effectively ignored the opinion of the revolution.

On second thought, this thing is unnecessarily long, so I'll just summarize the rest. Basically, Napoleon was also a total douche about women, and said (and I quote) “the husband must possess the absolute power and right to say to his wife: Madame, you shall not go out, you shall not visit such and such a person: for the children you bear, they shall be mine”. If some short little bastard said that to me, I would slap him. Also, empires aren't really freedom oriented, so being declared emperor screwed up that whole thing. My last paragraph is a mere three sentences long and makes no attempt at a big picture. Opmin would be displeased.

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Tea

Casual Fridays

Or, in my case, shoeless Fridays.

I just don't like wearing, shoes, okay? It isn't as if most people even notice, and when they do, they laugh, and think that I'm slightly insane, but whatever.

I did, however, wear shoes to the gala (which I went to with Nyx) last night. We had to conversations with other people while we were there. In the first, we ran into Kerry and Lysander.

Nyx and I walked up to them, Nyx started talking a bit, and I stood there kind of awkwardly, because the conversation wasn't really related to me at all. After a minute, give or take 45 seconds, she decided to introduce me.

"Oh, guys, this is Tea. Tea, this is Lysander."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," I said.

"You too," he responded.

We both stood awkwardly for a moment while I tried to determine whether I should attempt a handshake, since his hands were full, but it felt rude to just stand there, so the silence dragged on for a bit, until Nyx opened her mouth to talk and Kerry and I interrupted simultaneously, him with "I know Tea already" and me with "I already know Kerry."

I checked out of the conversation at that point.

As we went up the stairs, we passed Ryan, Ida, and Cammie. I said, "Hi, hi, hi," my voice growing progressively higher pitched with each, and Ida, who was third, laughed.

"Hi, Tea."

"Hello," I replied, greeting her again, as Nyx and I continued up the stairs.

"Oh," Ida called, "are you wearing shoes?"

"Of course!"

"I don't believe it," said Cammie.

"Let me see," Ida ordered.

I swung my leg over the banister, flip-flop and all. "See? Shoe!"

"Good job."

Unfortunately, I think I managed to lose Nyx's socks at some point during this conversation, which I really do feel quite badly about.

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I leave you with my final essay using my midterm planning from Western Humanities, this essay about Historical Values.

During the Renaissance, they like Renaissance Men. This is because this era was horribly repressive towards women, so they didn't want to be Renaissance Women. Also, Renaissance Men knew a whole lot of stuff, like Da Vinci, who was awesome. As far as art goes, there was Michelangelo, who spent years of his life on his back (painting a ceiling, of course). They were also really religious, so Michelangelo painted a lot of overly muscled angels. The government was decentralized, which is a big word, so should be used frequently in essays, so the church took up the decentralized slack with the powerful, decentralized pope, who did many powerful decentralized things, because decentralization is decentralizingly important.

In Rome, they were big on Pietas, which, unfortunately, has nothing to do with Tas flavored pie. They did their duty and had a big army, and the had Gravitas, which we still have too, since I have yet to float away. Gravitas is also exemplified in the Star Wars Storm Troopers, but I have no idea how, since I can't remember what Gravitas is, but it probably has something to do with their sick awesome artificial gravity. Dignitas is like dignity, but spelled wrong, according to my spell checker, and it caused fighting and class separation. This is why my eschewing of dignity and not wearing shoes is good and will end all fighting and class separation.

The End.