Every Day, It's a Gettin Closer

Movie night last night. We watched The Prestige, which was completely amazing.

My arms are sore, particularly the insides of my forearms. I think it's from doing pull-ups on the diving board yesterday, but regardless of what it's from, it makes typing incredibly uncomfortable.

I miss Julie and Cammie, but at least Julie will be back soon. Snuggling with her with would have been a good antidote to the moie-night-induced "last time I did this I had a cuddle buddy" issue, but it is what it is, and I'm fine.

I'm through the roof excited for AIS. Just like before I left for RSI this summer, I'm spending so much energy being excited that I'm not bothering to savor what I have. But, then, there's not all that much to savor beyond solitude, and I've certainly been savoring plenty of that. Well, there's Nyx, who is currently at her second to last day of work, but I'm probably going to sleep over at her house tonight, and I'll be bothering the heck out of her these coming days, so I'm not missing anything right this second. Julie is in Michigan visiting Timothy, and Cammie is already at college, and Kathrya is long gone, so no dice there. Yuma is around, but I'll see him in a week anyways. There are a few other people, but no one that I'm desperate to see, no one I'm going to be striving to keep up with in the coming years.

Just my family, really, but I spent two weeks ensconced with them, and, well, they're my family. I'll keep in touch with them, and, really, I'll always make time to see them.

I'm ready to go, and I'm excited, and, unlike last time, I'm not going to feel like I'm missing out on anything at home. So this time, I think, all is well.

New and Old and In-Between

I had never been to Dairy Queen prior to last night. For some reason, it strikes me as a midwestern kind of thing, but I honestly don't know why.

A good crowd came bouldering last night: me (duh), Cammie, Nyx, Argon, Nimue, Kerry, Yuma, and Annika. Granted, I personally didn't do all that much in the way of actual bouldering--it should be clear by now that athletic activity is not my strongsuit--but I did make an attempt, and I did succeed in hauling myself up a few of the V-naught level walls and falling gracelessly down onto the mats.

I ended up sitting for probably more than an hour in a powwow circle with Yuma, Argon, and Nimue. It had been quite some time since I'd talked to Argon and Nimue, so that was certainly nice. It was strange to hear about high school again, because it feels like graduation was a lifetime ago. The senior summer flew by, but, at the same time, it feels like this is the only existence I've ever known, if that makes even the slightest bit of sense.

I'm crossing my fingers for Argon getting into AIS. He deserves it if anybody does (though he is on my mental list of "people who might end up ditching us for that other, extremely geographically proximate school. That boy really ought to actually join science bowl, because I think his help is going to be desperately needed.

In other news, both he and Nimue are taking bucketfuls of AP classes and working on college apps and pretty much sitting right where I was a year ago (well, slightly different--Argon has a more rigorous schedule than I did, Nimue's is less so). It feels so distant, though. I'm a bit worried about getting to college and diving into schoolwork again. I'm worried my mind has forgotten how to be fully intellectually engaged.

Think how bad it would be if I'd taken the fellowship and waited two years. That no doubt would have been a nightmare.

After both bouldering and DQing, Cammie went back to her house to pack up the car and, in the morning, leave.

She's our first departure. Well, technically our second, but no one had thought that Kathrya wouldn't be coming back. I hadn't even had sufficient time to get used to the haircut, but I suppose that's what skype is for. Even so, I already miss Cammie and her silliness--but I know that once I get to AIS, home will be the last thing on my mind.

Besides, it's going to be good to be somewhere new (well, maybe not 'new', but at least not here). I'd gotten way too used to having someone's arm around me on these outings, and I'm not sure now is the time to be thinking about--well, I'm sure you all know.

Ah, well. It is what it is, as always. I think I'm going to try to find a watch and some goggles and swim some laps. It'd be good for me.

Nyan nyan nyan

Right before I woke up this morning, I dreamt that I was leaving for college. But, for some reason, the place I was leaving looked exactly like MIT (minus the fact that the dorm was more 'generic dorm' than 'Simmons hall'). I was looking for Cammie and Kathrya and Nyx to say goodbye to them, and Dad was waiting for me. I'd already said goodbye to Julie, as well as some random small child who was somehow someone else I was going to miss. Jared, for whatever reason, was walking with me the entire time, and I knew I wasn't going to actually say goodbye to him until Dad and I pulled away in the car.

Then I woke up. Other than the obvious--i.e. I'm going to be leaving behind my own childhood--I'm not sure there's anything deeply symbolic, but I did remember the damn thing.

In other news, I can list off the top of my head everything I've eaten since waking. I'm not sure whether that worries me, but I'm fairly certain that it should. I swam in the waves, today; they're a lot bigger than the ones at home. I had some fun attempts at body surfing and a generally good time. I also finished Lord of Chaos, which means that I'll probably be starting in on book seven tonight. Isam would be proud.

Zee Prom

The actual prom was strange. That's the best word I can think of for it. It's funny, because by the next morning I was, shall we say, very comfortable with Peter (I mean that literal sense, not in the hanky-panky sense), but at the start of things I really wasn't.

The party bus was bizarre. We weren't allowed to drink anything, even water, while we were on it. It fortunately not a model that included a stripper pole, but terrible music was blasted, and it was so loud we could hardly talk at all, and the liqueur cabinet (which I think was actually just full of empty bottles and what looked very similar to the jugs of bleach we have at lab) kept swinging open, so Peter and I spent half of our time yelling at the cabinet door and the other half attempting to kick it shut. For some reason, this was considered fun. He also did that terribly awkward "Here I am yawning and oh, look, now my arm is around you!" thing. I leaned into him reflexively when he did, even while half of my brain was asking the other half why I was encouraging him when I'd already decided that he was boring (answer: I was cold. Also, it only just occurred to me that this was why he would not stop asking me if I was cold, despite my vehement denials. Would have been a better excuse than an awkward yawn. I feel somewhat pathetic for not realizing this sooner).

The eating bit was fine. The gang of however many of us there are got a table together, and we made cheerful conversation about things like someone's---it was Cammie or Kathrya---propensity for spilling drinks. Then music started, and there was dancing, and that was the point at which I got really uncomfortable.

I'm still not totally clear on why I felt so out of it. I think part of it was the sheer number of people around me, all of them darkened, and large, and just too much---I've never been good with crowds. And then there was Peter, who kept wanting to touch me---not anywhere inappropriate, mind, just my hands, and then my waist, but he's so much taller than me that all I could see was his chest, and his face was completely obscured, so I just kept swaying with the music, even as I wanted to shrink into nothingness and retract my sweaty palms and run off to somewhere, anywhere, just not right there right then. I danced because I didn't know what else to do, but it felt perfunctory even to me, this half motion, but he was moving less and I couldn't figure out why he kept resisting my attempts to stop (the touching, I know now. And now that I'm more comfortable with touching him I'd quite happily go back and run the whole thing again, but right then I was miserable). It's funny, because I understand what those sexual assault videos were saying, even as I recognize that I wasn't in a bad situation at all; even when I wanted to leave, even when all I wanted in the world was to be gone, I stayed there and I danced his dance, because he was big and it was dark and there were so many people and I didn't know how to explain that I desperately wanted to leave in a way that didn't make it sound like I desperately wanted to leave him, because I didn't. I like him, and I could remember that I didn't want him to think that I didn't want to be there, but it felt like I couldn't remember why.

I'm not sure this makes any sense at all. It's everywhere-writing, the stuff I got halfway decent at last year, but I'm not sure it works here. I just remember the everywhere emotion.

I still don't understand, though, why I got so scared. No, that's not right---I know why I got scared. I just can't for the life of me understand why I suddenly stopped.

I fell asleep on Peter during the ride home. He gave he his jacket so I wouldn't freeze, and Vincent was sitting across from me, who I hadn't seen since his strange visit to math team just to say goodbye to me. There were couples everywhere, and his girlfriend kept touching him and he kept looking at me, so I closed my eyes. I vaguely recall Peter tucking me into him and sliding closer, because he was warm, and then next thing I can remember was the bus arriving at Cammie's house and then getting annoyed with Yuma for photographing my sleep.

The actual prom was very, very strange.

Fantabulosity

Today started with getting to sleep in, so it really seemed good from the beginning. Unfortunately, my beloved youngest sister got into a screaming fight with my mom at the time my alarm would have gone off anyways, so my attempts at rest were thwarted.

On the plus side, I then spent many hours lolling about the house and being generally unproductive (and by unproductive, I mean "covered two more mini-units of vector review," obviously). Then I drove all the way to somewhat-far-off-town, successfully using the car's built-in GPS to locate the photography studio. It was easily identified by the nerdy looking kid wearing khakis and a blue shirt, just as ordered.

I derived a surprising amount of enjoyment from the photo-taking. I realize that the people there are supposed to go on and on about how beautiful the photograph-ee looks, but that doesn't mean that a mountain of compliments isn't fun. Posing with Rodney was probably more fun on the whole, though. We got lumped together after the photographer+assistants asked if we knew each other---not if we liked each other, mind you, just if we knew each other. This meant that as they posed us in various relations to each other, we got to make jokes at their expense, which more or just meant calling them crazy and then laughing a lot (you'd laugh to, if you were uncomfortable). There are also some photos of us making James Bond poses that I'd love to get ahold of at some point in the future.

Also, I met this cute guy from Tennessee who rides Tennessee walking horses (or something like that) professionally and wants to be a large animal vet when he grows up. I kind of really wanted to attempt to set him up with Kathrya, but then I found out that he is only a junior. Well, that and I remembered that Kathrya has a boyfriend, but these are minor details.

Later this evening, I went to movie night. It was a painful decision between settling down with a new way of thinking about projection vectors and going to watch A Fish Named Wanda, but I think I made the right decision. The movie was hilarious. Also, I got to meet Timothy, at long last. He is every bit as adorably nerdy as expected. I already want to be his friend, and he totally fits right into the group, which is lovely on the whole. He and Julie are colossally cute (I actually said to Yuma "they're like you and Ginny. It's adorable!", so I'm now officially on record on finding Yuma and Ginny cute rather than nauseating).

The evening ended with eight of us sitting hunched over in the back of Josh's car, eating ice cream out of the carton and discussing internet browsers in great detail. It was amazing. Nerdiness to the point of perfection.

The best terrible pun I can remember (I love puns so, so much) was Josh saying that Julie was covered in mud and therefore "so dirty." So much pun. So much wonderful.

Nyx also said, at one point, "this is so much more fun than getting drunk."

"Agreed," I replied.

"I really wouldn't know," said Brian.

It was then realized that none of us actually knew, but we nonetheless agreed that this sort of activity is in every way superior.

I love my friends.

Extended Weekend of Awesome Awesomeness

This can also be referred to "the time that Tea decided not to study for her midterms, and instead elected to enjoy her spontaneously week-long school vacation."

No, I am not kidding about the week bit. Wednesday was a snowday, Thursday had a delayed opening, Friday was staff development, Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and Tuesday was another snow day. Yes, this is a lot of no-school, so, of course, I did a lot with it.

Thursday afternoon--ran science bowl practice. I made a list of all this stuff to look up, then didn't look it up. In my defense, my teammates said they were unwilling to start learning it before midterms anyway. Drove Julie home from ScienceBowl Practice. Well, not quite home--I started the weekend off with a bang by getting into my first ever car crash. Yup. Good stuff. Julie was giving me directions while talking about her sexy boyfriend (not that I'd know if he was sexy because I STILL HAVEN'T MET HIM!!!), she broke off midsentence to say "you should have turned there." I then totally misjudged the truck's ability to break (I blame it on the fact that the entire bed was full of snow, but I didn't think of this until the next day, so it's not a very good excuse), turned anyways, and whipped straight into an oncoming car. The driver of that car was really, really really really pissed, but I stayed relatively calm, even after she (totally unnecessarily, I might add) called the police. Then I called my dad, who untangled the vehicles, both of which are still totally drivable. Cosmetic damages, people. I drove the truck home, explained everything to my mother, then panicked about how much money I was going to lose.

Friday: I discover that the deductible on the insurance is a mere $500, so I'm only down between 500 and 627 dollars (those gosh-darned police gave me a ticket for driving on the wrong side of the road, which I'm likely going to argue because I wasn't driving on the wrong side of the road, I swerved into the wrong side of the road due to an inability to judge the breaking ability of my father's pickup truck...but I digress). This was immensely comforting. I also rediscovered the buckyballs I got for Christmas and proceeded to spend most of the day attempting to build a 6x6x6 cube (for the record, I did eventually succeed). I also took my younger sisters shopping at Delias, where I bought a gray sweater, new boot-cut jeans (note that I've stopped referring to the clothing that now fits me as fat pants), and a $20 jacket that I am head over heels in love with. Shelby spend a lot of money in exchanges and gift cards and is still pretty excited about it. I'm just glad that I have pants that fit that I can wear with boots, because given the current snow situation, boots are a must.

Saturday: I spent all of the daylight hours milling around and feeling like I ought to be doing something. I probably started in on my final project for Mideast. I finished reading the entire archive of Ben Jones's blog at MIT, then read the entirety of Laura's. I went to a yoga class, where I failed miserably at giving off the appearance of having any idea what I was doing. The fact that my calves are so tight that I can't do a proper downward dog (apparently a very important portion of vinyasa), and my arms are so weak I can't do this weird lying down thingy we had to do a kazillion times, and the my blood pressure is still so low I felt like I was going to black out by the time we reached the 10,000th forward bend--where was I going with this?--oh, right, did nothing to diminish my enjoyment of the class. It was not quite as successful as the first class was--I spend a good three days after that one feeling sexy (no, I do not know why, but it probably was some sort of hormonal thing meant to reward me for finally getting my ass off my swivel chair)--but still nice. Then I came home, inhaled my dinner, and spent three hours ice skating. The ice skates made circular bruises around my ankles for reasons as-yet unknown. I felt so active on Saturday night, you have no idea.

Sunday I don't really remember, which means it was probably boring. I think I got the oil changed on the cars, but that might have been Thursday. Or Friday. I think it was Friday, actually, now that you mention it. And I've just remembered that Sunday wasn't boring! Kathrya came over, ostensibly to do homework (we didn't). We skyped with Bart! Saudi-Arabia-dwelling Bart! Kathrya was so excited I'm kind of surprised she didn't implode. I enjoyed the opportunity to actually put my computer's built-in webcam to use (also, talking to Bart was fun).

Monday I did stuff. What did I do? Again, I'm rambling because I don't remember. Stuff probably happened, most likely. I slept pretty late. I went to Borders and exchanged one book my parents got me for Christmas for a host of other books, including 2 Eloisa James romance novels (I read one, but the second one isn't really working for me, since the protagonist is like 20, very much unrelatable, and is pretty definitely going to end up with a 43 year old. Laaaame). I also got Ned Vizzini's autobiographical essays written at age 19. I am in love with teenage Ned Vizzini. It is unfortunate, but it is true. If he was my age, he'd probably have a blog. I should probably find blogs of random teenage guys to read, so that I develop weird writing crushes on people my own age, instead of the historical version of older people. I'll work on it later--for now: Hot Guys Reading Books!

Tuesday I set my alarm for 6:10, called the snow line with my eyes closed, then slept for another three hours. I read books. I played the piano. I hid in my room while my sisters cooked both dessert and dinner (I'm really going to need to get over my irrational fear of cooking). I played with buckyballs some more. I ignored messages from Rube and Bart while I was reading, didn't manage to respond to Bart until he wasn't there anymore, never responded to Rube, talked briefly to Greg before he had to go to lab (but not before Olive stole his computer and started typing to me). Then I started reading Yan's blog over on MIT admissions, got about halfway through her freshman year posts, then saw that she got a UROP at Sadoway Group. Then I had an absurd jealous breakdown, followed by a decision to actually read some of the papers by the group to make certain that my minor obsession was founded on fact and not some imaginary "OH MY GOSH FLOW BATTERIES" thing, since they work on other stuff (that said OH MY GOSH FLOW BATTERIES AND HE WAS REFERENCED IN THE CANON THE DAY AFTER I WENT BY HIS LAB AND MET WITH RANDOM GRAD STUDENTS OH EM GEEEEE. Plus he teaches intro chem and is apparently really awesome. And the lab appears to be doing cool stuff). Pardon the all-caps, but I have limited self control. I started reading one of the papers (well, I saw that layer-by-layer is abbreviated LbL, giggled madly, then went to the living room to collect my laundry). I decided to write this post instead of reading the paper, took note of my current more-intellectual reading (it's about the fact that gender bias and subconscious-driven gender discrimination is damaging our nation's school children, and it's particularly awesome in that it's addressing the fact that gender bias is harmful to both girls and boys (something that a lot of boys with high feminist-potentials seem turned off by is the whole "only girls are being damaged" thing)), then came back to my room, where I proceeded to while away the hours until I was tired enough to go to sleep.

Unattached Musings

This is, *ahem*, a serious post. Somewhat unusual for me, I suppose, but I've been feeling rather moody all day (whether this is due to the comment we're about to discuss or to the fact that I'm back at school after a phenomenally luxurious break is currently undetermined) so this post gets to bear the brunt of it.

What set it off was a conversation with a certain Nyx regarding a certain Warburton (I'm currently trying to ignore the fact that it's entirely possible that Warburton will read this and recognize the description of himself...I'm still adjusting to the fact that people legitimately read this thing). Warburton is one of the many individuals who have emailed me in search of RSI assistance (my last count is 26 total); his email was one of the more memorable, though, as it was about four pages of sleep-deprived babbling, followed by an offer to play scrabble. I spent a couple of days pointing and laughing at the email, the read it closely enough to work out what he was asking and try to respond to that. After we had worked out that he was not, as I originally suspected, completely batshit crazy, I gave him Nyx's email because she wanted a scrabble buddy. She reportedly stayed up way too late talking and playing scrabble with him, and they reportedly had a bit of a nerd cred contest.

Nyx defines nerd cred as indie cred for nerds. Indie cred does have a wikipedia entry, so I suppose this is legit. I define nerd cred as "that thing I am always trying to get more of. Bryant probably defines nerd cred as "that thing I have so much of that I don't bother trying anymore." Bryant has an amount of nerd cred comparable to the level of indie cred held by a band that only its members have heard of. Warburton's nerd cred, from what I can tell, is more along the lines of the band that doesn't exist yet--so, basically, dude is a completely, ridiculously smart. I'm exaggerating a bit, but for the sake of the analogy, it is at least somewhat funny.

As I was saying, Nyx and I had a conversation on the way to school (it should be noted just how terrible I am at sticking to a serious topic). She said Warburton has more nerd cred than me. I agreed, saying that he should get into RSI as a result, but one never knows. She agreed with me, and I said that I wonder sometimes how I got into RSI when there are all of these awesome people out there. She gave me the look that said that I was missing some important point.

"You're a girl," she said, as if that was all the reason that was needed.

I can't find it on the website (so maybe it's not true) but I recall being informed, multiple times, that for those selecting an RSI class, affirmative action is not used. This is how we end up with 1.5 minority students and only 1/3 girls (I just checked flipped through my summerbook at counted the American students--30%. I cannot imagine it would be that low if affirmative action was used). The website does say that students are selected "solely on the basis of their accomplishments and intellectual potential," but this was in reference to costs rather than gender/race/what have you, and I'm not the sort of person who will seriously quote out of context.

Regardless, it hurts. It hurt when Dino said the only reason I was selected for SHP at the end of freshman year, when he was not, is that I was a girl. Because obviously my test scores are lower, or the same--I couldn't possibly have a greater level of scientific knowledge beyond the biology that I will freely admit he is better at. It hurts that when I am sitting at the top of my AP physics class (well, I'm not certain my grade is actually the highest, but that's because I'm being lazy and not working as hard as I should), class that has 25 boys and 2 girls (though I grant you the vast majority of these guys are jocks who probably should not be in the class), and people continue to think that I got into college because I'm a girl, that I had this opportunity and that opportunity because I'm female and not because I am a very intelligent person who has spent years working my ass off.

But I'm a secure individual. I know that shouldn't bother me, because satisfaction rests within the self. I believe that I am both capable and deserving, so it shouldn't matter what others think. The only reason that it should bother me is the same reason that the previous sentence says "believe" instead of "know." I am not as certain as I think I am. Nyx's words troubled me because she is among my closest friends, and is one of those I've known the longest and know the best. It makes me wonder: if my best friend doesn't believe in me, who will? And if she doesn't it, is my belief in myself unwarranted?

This is the insecurity that gnaws at me. It continues to live partly because most of the things that people regularly dispute can be attributed to affirmative action, so I can't quite tell myself that they aren't true--but I can't totally blame an outside source. Much of it is a case of "imposter syndrome", the feeling that, no matter what I've achieved, I've cheated somehow, and one of these days, someone is going to notice that I don't deserve my current position. It's common, from what I can tell, among women in the sciences, and I'll discuss it later, but I went on a huge tangent below, and I think that a discussion of that idea deserves its own post.

The insecure feeling is similar to that which troubled me when Kathrya assumed I wouldn't land something because I'd be competing against international students, and they'd all be better--though in that case, it bothered me less, because I'm well aware that the best of the rest of the world is substantially better than me. I'm well aware that a lot of students in this country are better than me--but in what I've dedicated myself to, the number is damn small. There are probably tens of thousands with my grades, but if you throw in research and everything else--there are a number that do better, but from what I can tell, there are a few hundred of us that are about on par with each other (maybe closer to 1000 or so, I'm not entirely sure), maybe a bit more or less--though I'm getting stuck on this one, because while it's easy to make sweeping judgements, I don't know what everyone else is capable of, and I still don't know precisely where I stand.

However, any of these people would be qualified, overall, for RSI. These are the people that will do research at Caltech, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, MIT, Stanford (though a smaller number of them will end up at other schools). I don't really know what separates those who got into RSI from those who didn't--RSI is literally too small of a program to accept all of the qualified applicants, particularly if we take to heart MIT's constant statement that it, too, cannot accept all who are qualified--but regardless, there are more people sitting at the level of "totally awesome" than there are people at RSI. And at this point, I no longer remember what the purpose of this discussion was--something along the lines of being the best here, but not the best everywhere, which doesn't totally make sense. My 1000 estimate of people who are really into research--well, that's not a very conservative estimate. I would probably be better off with a few times that. And if "the best" includes that many people, what really qualifies me to say that I or anyone else is the best? If we make our definition broad, we pick up people who are good at many things. If we make it narrow, we discount the most intelligent.

I think I just made a point, but it has no relation to anything else I've talked about. I wanted to say something about affirmative action, I think. About how horrifically bitter Gretchen is because, from what she can tell, being an asian female puts her at a disadvantage in the college process. About how worried I feel that I've been receiving things I haven't deserved, even as I am fuming over the fact that others don't believe I deserve them. So where does it help?

It helps the statistics. It makes schools have the right numbers. And as I said before, with the huge numbers of the best, you could quite possible fill an MIT class with asian females and have the whole class be amazing. You could probably do the same with white Europeans. I don't know enough about the numbers to say if one could do the same with blacks, or with hispanics--I have a feeling that there aren't enough total people in research positions already. You could probably fill a class with people capable of succeeding, but it's quite likely that they wouldn't have had the same training. Just like I wouldn't have had the same training if I hadn't been accepted to the programs I was accepted to--because that's what enabled me to be one of these best people.

I feel like my reasoning is going in circles. The problem is that any equality in receiving an opportunity can go two ways--you can try to equalize people based on what they've had access to, and accept based off of that. Or you can actually take the people who have done the most, sum total, to be the most qualified. It's confusing, and I don't totally get it, and I'm tired, and I have a feeling that I'm going to offend people, and I'm a bit annoyed about the fact that I'm no longer anonymous, so I'm probably going to offend real people.

*insert curse word here*

Shopping For Shirtsies

Please note that I am not actually purchasing said shirts...just looking for geeky ones. Some awesomes:

• A Fibonacci sequence...in BUNNIES
• Our beloved Ginny probably likes this one
• Awesome on a number of levels
• Someday, I will exist in an environment where I can wear shirts that say things like "bitches" on them'
• Chemistry win
• Physics win
• If it weren't for the inaccurate Bohr model of the atom and the color I can't quite pull off, I would want this shirt
• Kathrya would like this one
• SO PUNNY
• And one for Julie
• Lolz
• Redundancy!
• This one may never get old.

Okeedokee, that's enough for now.

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."

Today, Today

Oh Friday. Beautiful Friday, lovely day at the end of an oh-so-lovely week.

Someone said something funny during Chem. But I don't remember what it was. It was probably something about how if you sit on a pencil hard enough and for long enough, you make diamonds. Fun fact!

Please disregard that at the forces that can be provided by the human body, this would take millions of years.

I'm currently at Cammie's house, hanging out with her and Kathrya. We're making cookie dough. To eat, like, just the dough. It's gonna be delicious.

I'm going to mention Nyx now. And the fact that I have an English essay to write this weekend. Because I'm trying to even out the tag numbers, even now.

Frisbee club was fun. Ginny is indecisive about everything, but it's a trait that's adorable in her and obnoxious in Rube. It's odd, how that happens.

Monday, Lovely Monday

There's a title that will probably never get repeated. Oh, how happy I am that there is no school tomorrow.

My younger sister's carpool buddy for swimming got a foot through the sclera and she's at the hospital. My stomach churns just thinking about it.

Ginny and Yuma are coming over tomorrow and we are cooking chocolate donuts. If Ginny's mother asks, we are working on physics. All of you, remember this.

In other news, I should be practicing for math team, but I'm putting it off because I'm busy. I should be working on college applications, but I think I'll be able to get my drafts done by tomorrow morning. I should be talking to people, but I'd rather read.

I hope that Kathrya is doing well, and that she continues to do well in the coming days.

I need to get going on The Purity Myth, which I think I'm going to add to my Lit X paper. The first three books (Orlando, The Scarlet Letter, Tess of the D'ubervilles) are from very different eras, but I think I can make it work, and I'll possibly be able to incorporate Lolita as well, in which case I'll be done with the reading phase of the paper. My current plan, though I haven't yet read the nonfiction text, is to focus on marriage and virginity through time. My main point is that the definition of marriage has changed considerably, granting much more power to the female counterpart (I'm going to have to think of any modern books I've read that would support this well, but I'll hopefully be able to find something...I wonder how Jane Eyre would fit into this analysis. I'd also rather like to read The Age of Innocence, which seems applicable. There are so many things I want to do in so little space!), while the societal perspective of virginity, placing it on such a pedestal, giving it this grand significance that is so similar to the power it has in Tess of the D'ubervilles (loss of virginity is equated with marriage to the partner in the text) is in a marked contrast.

Yay for plans!

Grief is

Crying, then talking, then gazing into space occasionally when the memory comes back. Then, when the slightest joke is told, a suggestion that Kathrya's former beau (oh, Tybalt) is actually a robot, laughing almost hysterically for ten times as long as the joke merits, because it feels so good to finally laugh.

Another weekend draws to a close

I had a sum total of five hours of real, true relaxation this weekend. I spent these hours eating chinese food and playing 1984-themed Mafia while talking to Kathrya in person and Leila via skype.

The theme ended up not really functioning in practice, since we didn't have enough people, although it's possible that the second round, after I had left, went better.

I've decided to drop A.P. Spanish and take two frees. Getting my homework done not including Spanish still had me swamped, so I'm thinking that's a good idea, although once I get my college and science fair stuff in, I'm going to have a lot time on my hands.

Maybe I'll learn perl.

Well, that or sleep. I have a feeling I'll end up alternating between sleeping and reading trashy romance novels, just like I typically like to do. Predictable me.

I at least got round one of the Sieman's paper rewrite done. On second thought, I'm not sure if that competition name should have an apostrophe. Ah, well.

Yay for blogging! I'm going to go write another RSI post :)

Another Day, More Work

I've almost (almost almost) got the patent finished up. Just have to rewrite the claims and do a final figure description. I'm rather looking forward to getting it all submitted.

I also finished Summer Reading Book #3, also known as Tess of the Deubervilles. This adds on with 1984 and Lolita, and now I've just got to get through God of Small Things. At the moment, my biggest topic linking the three books is something regarding perceptions of purity and attractiveness, because, for some reason, all big books seem to come back to sex.

Today, I did some (but not enough) cleaning, some (but not enough) talking, and a fairly reasonable quantity of work, although, like I said, I have the figure description to write up, and I think I might try to make a bit of a dent in the summer chemistry work, and I'd like to do another one of my RSI blog posts (I must remember ALL!!!!!)

Anyways, that's today's update. Sorry it's brief, but I'm pouring my energy into far too many things at the moment.

Oh, right, last night I hung out with Nyx, and then Dad got mad at me for how much crap I still had in his office. Tonight, Gretchen is coming over. Tomorrow, Kathrya and Nia are coming over. I am in no way listing these to increase the number of tags held by particular individuals. No sirree, I wouldn't dream of it.

Despicable Me

Once the final papers were all in, it was movie night. The options: Salt and Despicable Me. Sucker that I am, I elected to go see the animated children's movie, a decision I do not regret--for realsies, that movie was soooo cute! (in the words of Kathrya, though she didn't see the movie).

We broke into two groups in the theater--the loud people (Keyuri, Astrid, and others) sat in the back, and I sat somewhere closer to the middle, between Bart and Ravi, who are both wonderful, kind, and popcorn sharing.

The movie was, as I said, basically totally adorable. I have such a weakness for animation (anyone else excited for Tangled? I know Bing is psyched about the hair super awesome hair), and small children, and adorable monster type things, and, well, basically I loved the movie. So...yeah. That's about all I have to say on that one.

I'm having vague recollections of the walk to the movie, now, where we misplaced Dominique, so Dill and one of the counselors waited for her, but she took a cab instead. It made me laugh. Also, I'm totally not sure if that actually happened, I just kind of vaguely think that it did.

After the movie, we split into a burger/pizza group (it was one of the two...) and a dim sum group, which was headed by Hannah, her random friend, and a bunch of other counselors. The only students were me and Remus, and Remus and I didn't really talk much, so basically I stared at my plate during most of the extremely delicious meal, which was lame. Then I talked to Hannah's random friend, who went to school with Maxwell, about Maxwell's issue with tucking in his shirts.

Then Remus and I talked about gossip. About me. Which was weird, because usually I gossip about other people. Then I went back to the dorm. I probably slept at that point, seeing as I had pulled an all-nighter the evening before, but I don't really remember. It all blurs together after a while. This may have been the time that Leila didn't make it back to our room until 5 am, but, again, I don't remember. I hate how little I can put in order, now.

I am sad.

Much Delayed

Unlike Gretchie, it's only been five days since I posted (way better than seven), so it's not that bad. What has changed, let me think...

Eh, I'm a wee bit too sleepy to think. Silly movie nights, wearing me out.

I suppose I'll just give an overview of my afternoon.

Kathrya and I spent half an hour in the courtyard waiting for Cormac to show (he didn't), with Cammie keeping us company for a portion of that time. I texted Genie twice, telling her to meet me there.

She did not.

When Kathrya and I left, Genie's bag was in the bed of the truck, but I assumed that she'd put it there before catching the bus, so as to not have to carry the damned thing up the hill. We laughed at the bag and left. Unfortunately, the drive took at least twenty minutes. There was a huge traffic jam on a rather huge road- for some reason, some idiot had required a fire truck.

As I was rounding the corner to the hill, I switched radio stations and discovered that Mr. Brightside was playing on the radio, which made my day about a bazillion times better. Then I got home, found out Genie was waiting for me to drive her home, turned around (with Kathrya right in front of me) and left for school, but my mother dearest had forgotten to close the trunk of the car, so she got ahead of me, and then this blasted schoolbus pulled in front of me...

Moral of the story: if you don't check in with your sister, you will spend an hour in the car.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for that lifelong lesson.

Electonic-Related Disasters

My bedroom appears to have eaten my sister's camera's download wire. She came in looking for it, so I started to dig around, looking from suspicious suspects.

I found three black wires with one tiny end and one USB--I think they're called firewires--despite the fact that I don't have a camera that those wires could have come with. She tried all three; none fit.

So, we have three mysterious black wires, and a camera that can't download pictures.

In the words of Shelby, "greeeeaaaaat."

Another unfortunate electronic adventure: my cell phone has been completely nonfunctional for about a month, due to the fact that my charger vanished mysteriously from the floor next to my bed (and no, it's not under the bed). After three weeks of "it'll turn up eventually"s, I caved and ordered a new charger on Amazon. Actually, I ordered two new chargers, since my model of phone is so old that there are literally bazillions of charges lying around, unused, unplugged, powerless and ignored.

My new charger came on Thursday, so I plugged in and, on Friday, when I went shopping with Kathrya, I was fully plugged in. I checked the time obsessively, worried about it accidentally falling out of my pocket, and was pleased to discover that I had missed neither calls nor texts. While in one store, as I ignored the salesteen who had poked fun at me for tripping over a table and waited while Kathrya tried on pants, I sent Nia a "Happy Birthday" text and Rube a "is text message persuasion going to get you to come build sand castles tomorrow?"

I felt both sociable and accomplished, almost as accomplished as I felt after successfully flipped a fedora up my arm before putting it on (salesboy's response: "niiiiice." Weird-ass skaters...). Then Rube called and I completely ineffectively dropped the hat while attempting to juggle two bags, my phone, my wallet, my jacket, and my keys, trying to get outside of the store to somewhere where I could actually hear.

Unfortunately, it was actually louder outside, so I ended up leaning against a wall near the front of the store, curled around the phone as Rube said in a voice that was far too tired, "I can't hear you, we'll talk later."

That was the phone call with the highest effort to talk time ratio in the history of humanity.

Regardless, I used my phone, didn't worry about my parents being able to reach me, and generally had a grand old time. To continue my phone-using habits, I brought it to Castles in the Sand the next day, which was not a smart move. Somebody--I have no idea who, although it may have been me--spilled water all over the bag, and, despite the fact that there were three phones in said bag, only mine short circuited.

It has been sitting in my kitchen for over twenty four hours, innards removed, searching for sunlight, but thus far, no luck. My only hope is that merely the batteries are dead, and that I can utilize a replacement battery to access the contacts and whatnot. However, you may rest assured that I will not create a facebook group dedicated to my phone, because, really, that is just poor form.

A Happy End of Calculus Dance

Calculus B.C. is over, thank goodness. Unfortunately, I can't discuss the questions, as I signed an affidavit (I actually don't think that it is an affidavit, it's just that I'm rather fond of that word. Too bad I don't know what it means) that I wouldn't.

The nice part about calc is that I got to leave school early after the test was finished. Naturally, The Diner was the chosen destination. Nyx and I left school and headed out. I got out first, and, seeing a car approaching from the direction of the typically closed side entrance, elected to take the shorter exit route. Just as I was pulling in, a freckled arm emerged from the window of the small car and began to make an odd sort of wave.

The car drew level with me and Boris called out "Go back. It's closed!"

He then drove away. I made a twelve point turn (as Nyx described it "I was going to go that way, but Tea's truck was sideways.") and exited by the more accepted route, where the security guard was, per usual, not bothering to check anybody's school-leaving-identification.

Excited. Exited. Two words that are spelled far too much alike. Regardless, I got to the diner without missing the turn (which Sergio, reportedly, did). I waited stood outside of the diner with Boris until Nyx showed up, then spent the time getting a table trying to explain to the hostess how I didn't know how many people were in my party.

By the time we hit the tables, we were seven strong. Upon discovering that only six fit in the booth we had, four people went to the second table (Sergio was, I believe, following Gnatta, which he can't seem to bring himself to stop doing. Then again, I still do the same to Mario, so I can't talk). Tybalt stayed with Nyx and I despite an announcement that "there was nobody at this table."

Apparently Nyx and I aren't people. Thanks, Tybalt. Thanks a lot.

Anyways, Mario and Dino soon arrived, Dino's speech replete with complaints about Mario's driving, to which Mario's response was "at least I drive better than Irving." Honestly, the amount he talks about him, its no wonder we joke about their nocturnal activities.

Nyx and I spent at least some portion of the lunch laughing at the way Mario wriggled his hands about (look! I'm flexing my finger muscles!) while speaking. Tybalt also finally formulated the perfect Dino-directed response for "Where's Kathrya?" which is one of his favorite questions. "Where's Lauretta?" seems to be functioning quite well.

I have seen the future, and it is wonderful

I just asked Dino how many of his parents are coming to prom. I am fairly certain that implies that a) he is bringing his parents to prom, like this boy did his grandmother, and b) that he possibly has more than two parents. Then again, if we count his programmers as parents...

Today, Ginny went to school, but she was technically excused, so she elected to skip many of her classes. I stole her for her final pre-statistics-AP-test hour. After she ate her unidentifiable sandwich (I think it might have been egg), we went outside and sat on the grass.

Well, I sat on the grass and tried to drag her down with me. She was reluctant, as she "didn't know where the grass had been." However, by the time I was lying down, she had at least reached a low crouch.

We spent a while daydreaming about the time to come. First we tried to think of next year.

"We'll both be sitting here," I said, "in the sun, and it will be AP week, so we'll be stressed. Oh, wait, no, we'll already be into amazing schools. You'll be going- where do you want to go?"

"This would work better if we knew where we were going."

"This is true."

"What about the reunion. Do you think we'll go to the reunion?"

"Yes. How about the 75th. We'll both go."

"What'll we do there."

"Well, I'll spot you first, and your hair will be all gray. I'll try to flag you down but I'll have trouble, what with my cane and all, so I'll start yelling, Ginny, Ginny. Then you'll finally see me, and you step into the light and your hair is gray. My first response is to say 'gosh, Ginny, you don't even look Asian anymore.'

"You become very angry, call me racist, and start hitting me with your cane. I hit you back. Then we get into a wicked awesome cane fight.

"Dino comes over to break it up, and he says "guys, stop-p-p-p" and starts to shake, as his circuits have a tendency to get a bit rusty."

"Is Owen going to repair him?"

"No, Owen died off ages ago. That's why Dino is having problems- his self maintenance has issues."

"Ah."

"Anyways, Dino short circuits, so then we go back to fighting when Vicky comes trundling over, walker and all. She somehow manages to force us apart and says 'TEA! GINNY! OPMINN!'

"'What? Where? I thought she'd left.' I say.

"US History! Remember the battles! Remember the Mohicans and the women and portfolios! What a class. What. A. Class.' Vicky continues to babble, somewhat incoherently, about the wonders of US history."

Ginny laughed. "Who next?"

"Well, if Dino is there, Tybalt probably showed up."

"What about Bryant?"

"He's busy building robots and saving the world."

"Oh, of course."

"Anyways, Tybalt is there. He's working, doing something. Recently divorced- he tried to hard to have the perfect, cookie-cutter life, and it fell through. What's his job, though?"

"Something important. Presidential advisor? To Sonny, maybe, who beat out Lumiere in the race."

"Oh, naturally. Anyways, Kathrya is there as well. She and Tybalt broke up, ages ago, when she went off to college. Anyways, he's been finding life unfulfilling, and he showed up at the reunion in search of the one that got away. Kathrya, of course, has been fine without him, living it up and being awesome, as usual. She sees the cane parade by us, and comes rushing over."

"Rushing?"

"She exercised as a youth, she can still rush. Anyways, she gets rather excited to see us, and starts yelling about love and other lovely things, and then she sees Tybalt, and their eyes meet, and she immediately falls silent. And we get kind of confused, but then Tybalt comes over under the pretense of oiling Dino's joints, and, suddenly, we understand."

Ginny sighed. "What about Mario? How's he doing?"

"Mario...hmmm. He's a big businessman, somewhere, really rich. Anyways, he shows up, and we all start laughing about the whole peeing-in-a-cup beeswax. Then he tells us that we can't tell anyone, as it will ruin his reputation and destroy the stock of his company. So, we blackmail him and all get a million dollars."

"That's some fast monetary accumulation."

"That it is."

"He really ought to be thinking more about the consequences of his actions."

I laughed. "What about Gretchen?"

"I bet she's at a university."

"But which?"

"She's at MIT, and you're at Harvard."

"That's realistic. But sure. How is she doing?"

"Did she marry Phil?"

"Maybe she has a really cute baby. But with who? Mario?"

"If he isn't Asian, the kid won't be."

"Well, if the baby is half..."

"Not enough. Besides, Phil is way better."

"Yeah, but she'd never marry him."

"But-"

"Okay, fine. Two weeks ago, Phil came to perform a violin thing at Harvard, and I brought Gretchen to see him, because we're still all buddy-buddy and whatnot. Anyways, she and Phil fall madly in love and start an illicit affair. Also, now Gretchie is pregnant, and she and Phil are avoiding each other so as not to arouse suspicion."

"What about Nyx."

"She's living in Swahili, speaking Swahilian, and saving the world, one starving child at a time. She's doing great, though. That's kind of boring. No plot arc."

"Darn."

At that point, the bell rang, and we went up to my physics class. However, we resumed our discussion in the evening hours. A summary of that will come....tomorrow.

P-p-p-prom Planning

Pre-Prom at my place (woo, woo). There will be far too many people involved, by my count, but we shall have fun regardless.

My cousin sent me her bat mitzvah souvenir sweatpants. They are too small. I feel sorry for any of her fatter friends.

I can't do more than a one-liner, I'm sleepy. Work, work, work. Well, chat chat chat, mostly. Andy and Dino and Cammie and Kathrya and Gretchen. No wonder I don't get work done. Too busy with friends.

I like having friends.