Minor Happenings

This evening, I went on an event that resembled a date with our (not so) dear friend Peter. It was boring and not really worth much of the worry that lead up to it. On the plus side, I've emerged with renewed confidence (I can do better!) as well as improved comfort in my independence (I'd have had more fun by myself or with a friend!). Great success!

In other news, we're beginning a new game of mafia. I can say no more without risking death by beheading from Frank, our beloved overlord, so that is all I can reveal with regards to that specific category.

Last night's girly sleepover was quite fun and extremely enjoyable. Organic soda is delicious. Air mattresses are comfy. The companionship of Julie, Cammie, and Gretchen is wonderful.

Why is it that a bad date makes me so happy? More importantly, is this analysis worth performing? Probably not.

I also have a fiction assignment due Tuesday. I have to fictionalize the following memoir and hand it in:

Last summer, on August 2^nd, Annie died. She was six years old. She was the child of my father’s stepsister, but I’d known her for all of her six years. I could remember, way back when, visiting her family after she’d just been born, looking at this teeny tiny baby and marveling at how any human being could be that small.

She’d died of a brain hemorrhage. It was bizarre, completely uncontrollable, completely incapable of being healed. There was nothing we could do, though, and I’d never seen death before, never been to a funeral. I hadn’t reached the place where I am now—I suppose it takes a second death for that.

But, regardless, my family had splurged on airline tickets to Colorado months before, flying away for the first time in two nearly two years.

We didn’t want Shelby to have to go to the funeral—Shelby, my baby sister, who already thinks that she’s psychic and is about as emotionally overwhelmed as it’s possible to be already. So my parents stayed for the funeral, and they sent my sisters and I jetting off across the country. The three of us spent a week in a house by ourselves, learning independence, messing up the cooking, wandering off, looking for our own sources of closure. Sometimes, the funeral doesn’t help.

End of the Fatzone

Well, I said I was going to blog, so I'm feeling this compulsion to, well, actually blog. But at the same time, life feels rather boring, and I don't feel as if I have much to say.

I had a bizarre dream last night. I was on the rag, but I still definitely has sex (should be noted that I only remember the aftermath but not not the actual activity) with my dream-boyfriend, who was super attractive and very innocent looking but actually a prostitute. Then he became friends with my mom. I woke up, and my first thought was "holy *expletive* I didn't use a condom and I'm going to get an STD." My second thought was "oh, that was a dream." My third was "damn, he was attractive, too." Then I pressed the sleep button and I can't remember much else.

Math was fun, I guess. I like hard problems, the the one we did--the sum, from n=1 to n=44 of cos n/ sin n--was definitely difficult, at least for me. Gretchen seems to have permanently ditched us, though--Nyx overheard her suggesting to Dino that he could either pull up a desk or "sit with them." And, well, that stings, quite a bit, particularly since whenever she does bother to be with us she's perfectly wonderful. I know she's on some campaign to get Clara to go to college with her, but that doesn't make it sting any less.

The obesity presentation went fine, I think. I hope we do well, if only because I'd rather not get beaten. Plus, well, a little bit of money would be nice. A little bit of money is really always quite nice.

Brian apparently just asked Nyx if she used to date Tamir. I'm too busy laughing to finish writing this.

The Last Presentation

Julie and I are chilling at school. It should be boring, but Julie is awesome, so it isn't. Yay!

We all were just practicing for our Super Student Challenge presentation tomorrow. On Overcoming Obesity. That was our title until Gretchen started saying that the Os looked like little fat people. I actually wanted to put little fat people in, but then Yuma came up with the name "Shaping Paperclip," which is really much better anyways.

Julie says hi to the world.

I'm worried about the presentation--not really stage fright (I have stage fright for Julie because I'm getting nervous for her), but there's the fear that, like last year, the presentation might be the thing that keeps us from winning. Not that we really know if that was it, but I'm still nervous.

I'm also sad that our little team is dispersing after this. No more Science Bowl, no more Moody's, no more this, no more math team (not that Julie was on math team or Ginny showed up, but still!). The posse of awesomeness, or whatever we want to call ourselves, won't really exist anymore, and it's sad. They've been good to work with, and I've really gotten a lot out of the experience of working as a team with people who I can actually depend on academically. And I've really gotten to know all of our strengths and weaknesses--we're so well meshed together, it's a pity to break that up.

But we will. Because we're graduating. Internships, summer, college. I am so so so so so excited.

Impostor Syndrome

I'm writing this post because I felt the urge to talk about a little feminine problem, and I'm hoping that this will also teach me to spell "impostor" properly.

Impostor syndrome is, according to wikipedia, "a psychological phenomenon in which people are unable to internalize their accomplishments . . . Regardless of what level of success they may have achieved in their chosen field of work or study or what external proof they may have of their competence, those with the syndrome remain convinced internally they do not deserve the success they have achieved and are actually frauds. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they were more intelligent and competent than they believe themselves to be."

I feel like there's some issues with plural/singular nouns and pronouns in there, but it does get the point across. And though I called it a feminine problem, wiki also states that it's present in both women and men. I just hear about it much more in women, partly because of the whole affirmative action thing (I wonder if there's any difference across races), and likely for some other reasons.

I know I've felt it. There were plenty of times this past summer when I was certain that my work was vastly inferior to everyone else's, and that it was only a matter of time before that program higher-ups figured me out (this is, legitimately, the main reason that I have this paranoia of not getting the counselor gig). When Gretchen and I spent two hours during Moody's running manual congressional seat allocations, I truly believed that I shouldn't have been there, that the team really deserved someone who actually knew what he or she was doing (i.e. knew how to program...though I do legitimately think that having someone who knew how to program would have been a boon. This reminds me of the fact that I should really do some more practice on the python front). If I end up in electrical engineering, you can bet your ass I'll spend a considerable amount of time worrying that my lack of experience can never be made up for (is this influencing my current decision to focus on physics? Who knows.). Even if I end up in physics, or math, or whatever else, I'm going to sit around and worry, like I did this summer, that I'm not capable of accomplishing anything in the field, that I got this far by some sort of trickery and that, when I'm actually working, I will be unable to find new material, and I'll end up waiting tables at some tiny restaurant in the midwest.

Do I know, intellectually, that I wouldn't have reached this point if I wasn't capable? Yes. But that doesn't mean that I truly believe it. I'd say that I'm better about it than I've been in the past--I've developed a level of confidence in my abilities that I really hadn't had before--but the problem still exists. It's one that I hear out of Julie, too (hopefully she doesn't mind my sharing); she's not good enough, she doesn't deserve this, she wouldn't have gotten in if it weren't for x, etc. (Jules? You deserve every bit of it, and when you go to college and kick the metaphorical butt of your selected institution, perhaps you'll come to agree with me).

I'm still not sure what I'm trying to say with this. I guess it's a reminder to myself to be more certain of my accomplishments. I noticed at RSI that a huge number of people--including some of the very best (Gopika, I'm looking at you)--seemed convinced that they were the one person who shouldn't have gotten in, that they would be the one person who didn't get into xis college of choice. It's like how someone--I think it was Carlisle, but I honestly don't remember--had a bit of a breakdown to someone else--I think it was Kaylee--about the fact that he'd only published two papers, and everyone was so far ahead of him and what on earth was he doing here?

It doesn't get us anywhere, the worrying. I force myself not to, I guess because I realize that it won't get me anywhere. But what is it, culturally, that pushes us into this feeling that we don't deserve what we have? Why are we all so convinced that we aren't good enough? It could be that RSI is built up so much that no one, except perhaps Patrick, thinks themselves good enough, but then why does it exist in other places?

I'm going to find some books on the subject, read them, and then do a lot of thinking before not actually deciding. Hopefully the books both exist and are nice to read.

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*

I Cried Last Night

It's funny, because I thought that I ran out of tears a month ago. It felt like I did, during the service, because there was so much happy in with the sad that tears would be difficult--though a cold made the sniffling easy.

I should have noticed that it was becoming too much. I should have noticed that something was amiss, because Gretchen usually can't make me laugh hysterically for fifteen minutes, she usually only manages seven or eight. But I was grinning, and my insides were warm, and sometimes it's easy to forget.

There needs to be a word like happysad, or angrykind, or hatelove, for when there are so many emotions that all of them exist at once.

I didn't even realize that tears were going to come until I got home and saw Dad lying on the couch. I put my bag down, walked over to him, sat down, and curled up, my head on his shoulder. We lay like that for half an hour, my crying, barely able to talk, and Dad rubbing my back, then just holding me.

It helped, as much as anything could.

I love you Dad.

Your Beloved Tea...

Is depressed. Again.

Fuck.

In other news, Rube is engaging in a cyber-barage of friendliness, and I've set a busy auto-reply to avoid him. Because I'm conniving like that.

Yay!

Now I'm trying to write a prewrite, which is a surprisingly difficult endeaver. Especially considering that all I really want to do is curl up and sleep.

I blame college-related stress. I could do a long drawnout I-feel-like-I'm-losing-control-of-my-life, thing, but I think I'll just link to this post instead. Bubbles summed it up rather nicely.

Gretchen's "no one should be allowed to leave people in suspense for that long" was pretty good as well. Please, please let the early application work out. I don't want to spend any more time than I have to with an entirely mysterious future.

Aside from that is the not-good-enough grade in English, which, in the scheme of things, and considering my really, really good AP science grades, shouldn't be an issue, but still bothers me.

That sentence makes no sense.

I'm going to cover it up with a cauldron-full of faked enthusiasm, then go write a paper. I'm (not really) looking forward to it.

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.

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.

Your Darling Tea...

...is something of a klutz. For instance, this very morning, I was walking down the hall with Gretchen, with Tybalt nearby. I tried to take off my glasses and eat crackers at the same time. I got out the glasses case while holding the open cracker container between my teeth.

"You sure you got that, Tea? Want me to hold anything?" asked Gretchen.

"Ahm good," I said around the plastic. I then sniffled once, my teeth shifted, and the entire container of crackers tipped over.

"Tea! I told you it would happen!"

"I'm always forgetting about how clumsy I am."

"You probably should have taken her up on that one," Tybalt advised.

"So I've noticed."

So much for a delicious snack.

Un Día De Estos

Narrator (N): One day, a dentist and his son went to the village to buy food for dinner.

Hijo(Son)(H): Father, I hoped that we had eaten sweets for dinner yesterday.

Dentist(D): If you had eaten sweets for the dinner, you would have died of an illness of the teeth.

H: I want that you buy for me more sweets and chocolates right now!

D: I cannot buy the sweets for you because there are big and ridiculous taxes.

H: What are taxes? I hope they hadn't eaten my candies.

D: The taxes can't eat nothing, but they are very evil.

N: They didn't know it, but during all of this time the militant mayor had listened and he became very angry. If he had not listened, he would not be angry. But now he wanted vengeance.

-The Militant Mayor enters-

Mayor (A): My taxes are very important for the populace. If we had had this good taxes, our village would be better.

D: But these ridiculous taxes are only for the dentists!

H: But father, you are a dentist, and I want my candies not the taxes. I hate that you are a dentist.

D: I'm going to start a demonstration against the grand taxes.

A: *laughing evilly* You shouldn't do this for two reasons. The first is that you are the only dentist in all of the village. And the second reason is that a demonstration is illegal.

H: What is a demonstration? I haven't heard of the demonstrations.

A: The demonstrations are very bad and we're never going to speak of them in the future. If we didn't have demonstrations, there would be more peace in the world.

N: The dentist became very angry that the mayor would insult the demonstrations.

D: In the past, I have become very angry that the government was military, but never like now.

A: If anyone had a demonstration, I would put them in the jail, and the same is true today.

H: You cannot but my father in the jail. Father has big and powerful weapons, and he can kill you.

N: The mayor drew his sword of light and said a threat.

A: No, poor son, I go to kill your father.

D: You are not correct, Sir. I will kill you in a minute. If I were you, I would have fear for my life.

A: Don't speak to me using the inferior form of the pronoun "you" and its respective variations in conjugation! I am in the superior position!

N: The mayor became very angry that someone would use bad grammar.

-fighting. the dentist is mortally wounded-

D: My whole body hurts. I can see a tunnel of light.

H: Father! No! You cannot die! I want to live with you for forever!

D: If I had won, I wouldn't have died in this manner.

N: In this moment, the dentist dies in a very dramatic manner.

A: I have won! I am victorious! You have died, and your death is not sad.

H: No! My name is "Son of the Dentist." You have killed my father. Prepare yourself to die!

A: You cannot kill me. I am much larger than you.

H: I will grow.

A: Where will you grow? You don't have parents.

N: I will adopt the son, and we will live together happily for always.

-THE END-

Script by Tea, Julie, Gretchen, and Avon.

Not-So-Scientific Scientifical Adventures

Today, Julie gave her "state of the project" ASR presentation. Which reminds me, I should be working on mine....eh, I'll do it tomorrow.

I wish my back didn't hurt. It's making typing uncomfortable, and I don't understand why it's only the right side. It's extremely odd. Mother dearest thinks I strained it unloading the truck, but I doubt that, as it took all of two minutes to unload the whole thing. It was quite nice, actually- all of the brush was stuck together, so I pulled on a branch and the whole thing came out.

Anyways, I got to Science Research and was rather dismayed to discover that Mario was there, because I had specifically chosen to wear the pants on a day when I wasn't going to see him. However, he didn't comment, so I think he may have forgotten about them. Well, that or getting laid was enough to stop him from being creepy about other people's butts.

Let me reiterate- EWWWW!!! MARIO! DOING THINGS! SEXUAL THINGS!!! EWWWWWWWW!-

To fully make that point, this is a conversation on my facebook wall:

Kathrya: AH. GRETCHEN. THE THING I TOLD YOU WAS TRUE.
EWW.
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.
EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Gretchen: I KNOW!! I REALLY WISH IT WASN'T.

Kathrya: ME TOO. SO DISTURBING. ON SO MANY LEVELS. BRAIN A-SPLODING.

Gretchen: NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME. AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Kathrya: NO IT WONT NO MATTER HOW MANY IRVING JOKES I MAKEEEEEEEEEEE :(

Gretchen: hahahhaaaaaha

THIS IS JUST SUCH A TRAUMATIC MOMENT. THE EARTH IS SLOWLY STRAYING FROM ITS ORBIT. WE'RE DRIFTING OFF INTO SPACE. IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD!!!!!!!!

Kathrya: IT IS THOUGH THE EARTH IS NOW OFF ITS AXIS I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW THIS COULD HAVE HAPPENED EWWW. LOOK AT IT THIS WAY. AT LEAST THERE WERE NO BABIES. THEN I REALLY WOULD DIEEEEEEE.

Gretchen: AHHHHHH!!!! THERE WOULD BE BABY CLONES. AND WE WOULD ALL DIE!!!!!!!!!

Kathrya: YES WE WOULD. THE WORLD WOULD START TO IMPLODE AND COMPLETELY DESTROY ITSELF.

Gretchen: THE HUMAN RACE WOULD BE ENEDED. ALL LIFE WOULD BE DESTROYED.

Kathrya: OH SO TRUE. I HOPE I WOULD DIE SOON SO I WOULD NEVER HAVE TO LAY EYES ON THE KIDS

Tea: OKAY THERE WOULD STILL BE ONLY ONE BABY BECAUSE THERE IS ONLY ONE GIRL INVOLVED EXCEPT FOR NUMBER 6 BUT THAT BABY WOULD BE REALLY MESSED UP BECAUSE ITS PARENTS WOULD HAVE THE SAME GENES BUT YEAH

Gretchen: EVEN ONE BABY IS ENOUGH TO DESTRY THE WOLRD. RUN FOR YOUR LIVES PEOPLE, EVEN THOUGH THERE IS NOWHERE TO HIDE.

Tea: I don't know- I think the art department would be an effective hiding spot.

Kathrya: uhm, I doubt it, because the mother is very artistic I've heard.

Gretchen: why did we stop the caps? it's so much more dramatic.

Tea: OKAY FINE, BE THAT WAY! ANYWAYS AHHH EVIL DEMON BABIES

Gretchen: THAT'S WHAT I SAID TO START WITH!!!!!

IT'S SO MUCH BETTER TO JUST RUN AROUND SCREAMING OUR HEADS OFF

Kathrya: I CONCUR. GOD. BABIES. EWWW. NOT WITH THOSE PARENTS THEY WOULD MAKE HIDEOUS BABIESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Tea: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH BABIESSSSSSSSSSS EWWWWW

Kathrya: PROCREATION IS GROSSSSSSSSSSS ESPECIALLY THEMMMMMMMMMMM EWWWWWWW HE HAS COOTIESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS /acts like a five year old

Gretchen:THIS IS MUCH BETTER!! :P

Tea: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY FIVE YEAR OLD BUT EWW COOTIES LAST NIGHT THERE WAS A GIANT BUG IN MY ROOM AND I STARTED SHRIEKING AND MY MOM HAD TO COME AND KILL IT FOR ME AND IT WAS TERRIFYING BUT NOT AS TERRIFYING AS THIS SITUATION I SUPPOSE.

Kathrya: NO GIANT BUGS ARE FAIRLY SCARY BUT THIS DEFINITELY TOPS IT ITS LIKE A WHOLE HOARD OF GIANT BUGS AHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Gretchen: LIKE LIFE SIZE SPIDER SCARY!!!!!!

Tea:ACROMANTULA WTF!!!!??!??!?!?!??!?!(INTERROBANG)

Julie: YOU ARE COOL
EWWWWWWWW
UGLY BABIESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS AND PROBABLY NOT SMART EITHER
I BET HE BELIEVES IN COOTIESSSSSSSSSSSSS

Cammie: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW AN ARMY OF EVIL UGLY CLONE BABIES!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!1!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THE 1'S WERE NECESSARY

Tea: I LOVE THE ONES THEY ARE TOTALLY AWESOME AND WAYYY COOLER THAN NUMBER ONE AND ALSO DID YOU HEAR THAT NUMBER 27, THE ONE WHO DID THE DEED, IS NOW DEAD DUE TO SOME STD OR OTHER?

Cammie: OH NOOOO!!! THAT MEANS THAT NUMBER 27 WILL BE REPLACED BY AT LEAST 2 MORE AND WE WILL HAVE 9 EVIL MUTANT CLONES RUNNING AROUND THE SCHOOL!!!1!!

Julie: THEY ALL DID IT BECAUSE THEY COMBINE ON THE WEEKENDS UNLESS IT WAS DURING THE WEEK WHICH WOULD BE EVEN CREEPIER AND CAN STDS REALLY KILL YOU? WAIT THEY CAN WE LEARNED THAT IN HEALTH CLASS. NOOOOOOO WHAT WILL HE DO WITH THE EXTRA?

Tea: NO THERE ARE NOT ANY MORE WE BEIEVE, IN FACT, THAT THEY ARE SLOWLY DYING OFF, WHICH IS SIMULTANEOUSLY FORTUNATE AND UNFORTUNATE. WE WOULD ALSO LIKE TO REPORT THAT 27 WAS THE ONE WITH THE NICE ASS, AND THAT THEY ARE NOW NO LONGER WORTH LOOKING AT.

not that anyone was looking anyways...

Anyways, speaking of out-of-the-blue inappropriate comments, after Julie's presentation, the floor was open for questions and comments.

Mario: You seemed rather...tense. I mean, not like, tight, per se, but, just, somewhat nervous. Maybe afraid, or...

Tea: Uncomfortable.

Mario: Yes, uncomfortable.

Julie: I am uncomfortable.

Mario: You need to try to relax. Think of something calming, like Lumiere's shirt. It's so nice, and pastel colored. Pale blue is a calming color. And you could imagine undoing to buttons with your tongue.

Math Class (the jokes on who?)

Today, I walked into calculus late.

This is not surprising, as I frequently walk into class late. On this particular occasion, I was late because I had to print out my note packets for class. I printed a spare for Nyx, ended up giving it to Jeremy, and then none of us needed them in the first place because the seniors were getting a class picture taken, so Mrs. James had elected to spend the entire class period communicating with the juniors.

As I was saying, I got to class, and, as I'm sitting down, I notice Mario and his freshly-cut hair (I told him last week that it looked good. I'm not certain that it does, but don't tell him I said so) and then sit in my normal seat, next to Gretchen.

"Guess who's he-re" said Nyx.

"I already noticed."

"Really?" asked Gretchen.

"Are you that surprised?"

I got a small laugh for that one.

I'm going to spare you a play-by-play of the entire class period and give a few highlights instead.

Mario then spent roughly fifteen minutes repeatedly taking the square roots of random numbers just to prove he could. He then tried to teach the rest of us how to do so, although I blatantly ignored his explanation and Boris claimed it was unnecessary (Boris was wrong).

At one point, Bryant was fiddling with something on his ipod. I think this is primarily because prolonged separation from technological devices is damaging to his health. Mrs. James started ribbing him a bit.

"Bryant how did you get on that site in school?"

"Huh?"

"He must have used a proxy. That's what they're called, proxies, websites that let you access other-" said Boris.

"I can show you what I was on if you want."

"I really don't think she needs to see that," advised Jeremy.

"Oh, I wouldn't wouldn't worry about it," said Mario. "He can't really get into it without the sound."

Gretchen and I nearly died. As Tybalt said later, "I laughed so hard that I went lightheaded."

"What time do you think the seniors are getting back?" asked Mrs. James.

"Never."

"Yeah, definitely never."

"But I was going to teach!"

"What's the next chapter on, polar or something, right?" said Sergio.

"Yes, polar," answered Bryant.

"I remember polar," said Mario.

"Which one is that?"

"The circular graphs, with the Rs and thetas."

"Oh, THOSE. The butt graphs," said Jeremy.

"They don't look like butts," said Mrs. James.

"Oh, yes they do." Jeremy went to the board and drew a graph that looked rather like this, but turned sideways. "There's the right cheek." He wrote RC on that side. "The left cheek," he said, writing LC, "and I think we all know what that one is."

"I still don't think it looks like a butt," said Mrs. James.

"No, you're drawing the wrong graph," said Mario, jumping up from the seat he'd stolen from the invisible person who sits there ordinarily and taking Jeremy's marker. He drew something rather like this, but turned sideways, and with the upward facing petal elongated and the other two squished up so that it looked like certain male anatomy.

"Okay, that does not look like that at all!" exclaimed Mrs. James. "It is a three petaled rose, not a, a, a-"

"Penis?" somebody filled in.

"It's a thee petaled rose! And the petals are all the same size, like this-" she redrew it"-not like that AT ALL!"

I must say, I adore her for being more upset about the mathematical wrong than the impropriety.

After School Unadventurous Adventures

I left Spanish this afternoon with Gretchen and Avon, and we were the nearly last, if not the very last, people to leave. Avon went down the first staircase to catch her bus, and Gretchen and I sped up, soon overtaking Dino and Sonny, who, while moving at a reasonable rate, couldn't match what Richard calls Gretchie's ridiculously fast pace. We then proceeded to talk about Dino, but, despite his relative proximity, he didn't notice.

Then Gretchen ended up wrapped in some conversation with Sonny, Dino forged on ahead, and I followed far enough behind him that it didn't seem worth the effort to chase after him just to awkwardly disengage upon reaching the bathroom.

By the time I extracted my wallet from my backpack and journeyed downstairs in search of a bake sale, the lobby seemed almost deserted, and there was, alas, no bake sale. I located Nyx by means of her floral shirt (which is very pretty, by the way) and announced myself to her, Kathrya, and Tybalt by means of a request for food.

I was very disappointed to discover that Tawny's baklava, which had previously been in the locker she shares with Nyx, had been removed. I pulled out some pretzels, which Kathrya and Tybalt agreed didn't taste like "real pretzels," and Nyx left for the dodgeball game, and the three of us stood somewhat oddly in the lobby for a few minutes. Brian came by asking for members of his team, and a bit later, in a matching tee, Rodney walked past.

Rodney can be identified by the fact that, in my English class today, Ms. Seltzia mentioned tessellations. I said that they were my absolute favorite, and Rodney was, sadly enough, the only person in class who got the joke.

Kathrya, Tybalt and I eventually started walking towards the cars, and we saw Bryant walking towards us, and then we all turned around and walked out to the parking lot.

The only bit of the conversation I can remember is that something about Dino came up, and Bryant said, somewhat out of nowhere, that Dino has a really annoying voice. I then mentioned something about being really confused when he started laughing at me in the language lab until I realized that the audio system was making chipmunk voice, and there was a fair amount of me trying to figure out where to walk, because I didn't like being way out on the edge, because it's hard to talk across four people, but it felt sort of weird to drop back, so I think there ended up being a fair amount of weaving about, but I suppose it worked.

When we reached the vehicles, Bryant requested his ride to unstickered parking, and Kathrya and I both volunteered.

"You want to ride in the truck?" I asked. "It's pretty fun."

"It is," said Kathrya, "extremely cool."

Bryant consented, so we waved goodbye to the lovebirds (yes, I am going to call them that). I stood on that random black bar on the underside of the truck that is probably not random at all and meant for standing on to throw stuff in the back, and threw my backpack and lunch into the bed of the truck. Bryant seemed apprehensive.

"Do I need to put mine back there?"

"Just hang onto it."

"What do you do when it rains?"

"I don't. I mean, I haven't had a passenger when it was raining. Actually, wait, no, I drove Ginny home. She just held everything. It's a bit crowded, though."

He nodded, and I put in the key and rolled down the windows. As soon as power reached the stereo, Lady Gaga and Beyonce's "Telephone" started blaring at a somewhat inhuman volume. I turned it down a bit and pulled out of the parking spot.

"You mess with it," I said.

"This is fine."

"I hate this song."

He did something to the music controls that I didn't see because I was driving. Britney started singing "and I'm caught in between, counting 1, 2, 3-"

"Oh, that's loads better," I said.

He laughed and did some different button pushing and the music changed again, to something instrumental, familiar, and yet somehow out of reach.

"Should I go right up here?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I'll go straight then."

I turned out of Paperclip, still trying to figure out what the song was. "It's Lady Gaga, singing, well, something, I just...."

"Bad Romance."

"Ah, yes. I probably ought to have known that."

I wasn't looking at him, but I could practically feel his shrug.

From there, we somehow managed to discuss both what house the blueprint on the dashboard was for (he read off my address, so I assumed it was my house, but it turns out that he actually read the builder's address label, and it was for a different project) and, after I took a turn a little bit too quickly, whether I was allowed to have passengers in the car.

I said that as long as he could pretend to be my twelve-year-old sister, we'd be fine, but I wasn't sure he could pull it off, and, oh, wait, my sister is actually thirteen, I totally know how old my siblings are.

I think I got a laugh for that one.

And then there was something about parallel parking, and then we were at his car, parked as crookedly as predicted, and he was gone, and I was coming to an intersection I wasn't accustomed to, trying to determine the best possible route to a pastry.

Rememory

What do I have that is worth re-remembering, worth breaking apart into a thousand tiny fragments of perspective, of me and mine and ours and more, until the story itself becomes almost entirely kind of partway obscured by the words, and most certainly blocked out by strength of feeling.

It's a big assignment, to write something emotional, something enjoyable. Weirdly, I want to do the depression again, to pick it apart from my own view as well as Nyx's and Gretchen's and Amy's. It's just, last time I wrote about it, I became a complete bitch in the process. And, last time I wrote it, it turned me into a crying, angry bitch who screamed at her mother for offenses committed long ago. To top it off, it was for the same teacher I have now, but with two years less of maturity and knowledge and words behind me. Gray is still it, to me, though. That's how it was before, colorless, and I don't know how to write it with color. It's gray, my memory of sadness.

And yet, what is my memory of happiness. I look back for a happy moment, look back for something, and I know their was contentment, know there was joy and excitement and happy and love and hope, but what stands out, what can be reconsidered and rewritten and torn apart and pieced back together and made into a creation that is no longer purely the memory but is more?

Nyx just said "getting ridiculous test scores." Could I do a rememory of the SAT, of the scores, of the pain and the pressure finally exploding like a bottle of champagne into pure joy? But, even that isn't all happy. It's happiness tinged, tilted by effort, a mistrust of tests, a feeling that even though the numbers say I'm better than just about everyone else, I'm not better, or I am, but not enough, or not in the right ways, or something, because always, always always always there is this pressure, this urge to do better.

Even the happy has been destroyed by the pressure.

Is this what it is, to be an overachiever? Is that what I am now, no more semi about it? Have I outgrown the title that began this? I can't have. After all, I still sleep eight hours a night. I still stress over little tiny details like essays.

And yet, why isn't there anything happy. Why can't I find happy? It's as if everything I have right now is colored, hopefully just by my headache. Maybe when I try again, in the morning, I'll have a memory worth remembering.

This is the problem, I think, by choosing to avoid depression by constantly looking to the future. The present can be difficult to stomach. The past can be impossible to confront.

I promise to be less emo tomorrow.

More Silly Questions for Funsies

If you could go anywhere in the world with Nyx, where would you go?

It wouldn't matter where, so long as I was with her. But preferably somewhere that one of us is able to communicate in.

Is Rube the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend?

Of course. I wouldn't be friends with him otherwise.

If Nyx died, what would you do?

I don't even want to think about that.

Would you tell Ginny honestly how you felt?

Of course I would! God knows I've done so often enough in the past.

If Genie said he/she loved you, what would you do?

Hug her.

Is Boris old fashioned?

I don't know, but I'm going to say yes.

What is Genie's greatest wish?

To find the perfect lemon-related recipe.

How big is Julie's bed?

Approximately the size of Argentina.

What music do you think Mario is listening to right now?

I have a feeling he's still reading his "The Physics of Semiconductors" textbook and thus doesn't have time for music. Either that or his power is out and his ipod is dead and he's holed up at Starbucks waiting for a miracle.

What are the last 4 digits in Kathrya's cellphone number?

I have absolutely no idea. I'm clearly a horrible friend.

What was the last thing Boris ate when you were with him/her?

I have never seen Boris eat. Or, if I have, I don't remember it.

When was the last time you hugged Dino?
Never....

Does Julie have any relatives in jail?

Probably. I mean, if you extend the relatives far enough, it's impossible for her not to.

Have Kathrya and Boris ever gone cow-tipping together?

No. I can't imagine Boris cow-tipping. I can't imagine Kathrya being that mean to an innocent little bovine. So, no.

What's Dino's worst pet peeve?

Being told that his voice sounds like a robot.

What movie would you watch with Genie?

Whatever she feels like watching.

Do you think Dino dances like crazy when no one is looking?

Doesn't everybody?

Does Gretchen like to sing in the shower?

I don't know, but probably.

What's Ginny's favorite colour?

BLUE! SPARKLING BLUE!

Does Nyx blow dry his/her hair? or just let it dry on its own, or towel dry?

She probably blow-dries it sometimes, but probably not all that often.

Have you ever gone to the beach with Genie?

Oh, once or twice.

Does Nyx ever go fishing?

She'd rather sail, but she's up for anything.

Do you like Boris's hands or feet better?

Ummmm......

Does Mario have curly hair or straight hair?

Straight. But slightly puffy on occasion. But mostly straight.

What's Boris's favorite kind of drink?

Water...?

What's Dino's favorite book?
The Land Before Time. I don't care if it isn't a book.

Does Julie have any pet names? How did he/she get them?

Julie mc Julie pants? That's the best I can do on such short notice.

What would you like to call Kathrya besides his/her name?

Awesome. Duhhhh.

Did Gretchen grow up here?

Not originally, but after a point.

Which are Genie's top bands or singers?

I don't know, what ever she's listening to these days.

What school activities does Mario participate in?

Math team. With me. That is actually purely coincidental- I joined first.

Where was Boris born?

Somewhere.

Does Rube have any siblings?

I don't know. I don't think so, as I've mentioned my sisters plenty of times but he's never mentioned any, but it's always possible.

Where did Mario go for vacation in the summer?

I don't know. He did that summer thing in Boston, though, does that count?

What job does Dino want to do when he/she grows up?

Truth-Speaker, but unfortunately for him, that profession doesn't exist in the real world.

What do you think Mario has on his/her bedside table?

A picture of Scarlett.

Does Genie have posters up on his/her room walls?

Yup.

Does Mario still have tonsils?

I have no idea.

Which does Rube like better - Coke or Pepsi?

Again, no clue.

What is your idea of a hot romantic date with Ginny?

We can do math packets. Romantically.

What is Nyx's favorite color?

Yellow. Sometimes.

Have you ever fallen in love with Mario?

Love is a strong word. Like? Lust? Sure. Love is a bit harder to define.

What is the thing you love most about Julie?

She always, always has something nice to say, and is far kinder to me than I deserve, and is totally smart, to boot.

Did you ever dislike Mario?
Yes. Yes yes yes. He was so so so so annoying.

If Julie had a lot of money, where would he/she go on vacation?

Somewhere fun.

What are Ginny's major goals in life?

Write something awesome. Figure out what she wants to do with her life then do it. Accumulate large quantities of sparkles.

Has Julie ever lied to me and if so, why?

White lies, if any. Beyond that no.

Do you see yourself with Gretchen in another year, 3 years, 5 or so?

Yes, yes and yes. Even if we aren't in the same place, we are going to keep in touch.

If you have the chance, what would you probably say to Boris?

Please go away.

Where is the place that you want to go the most with Dino?

The state math meet. Although, given the option, I'd prefer to take Gretchen.

Which part of Mario that you hate the most?

The whole multiple-personalities thing.

Which colors does Mario wear the most?

I'm not sure. Yes, I can categorize his wardrobe, but there's no one color that dominates.

Have you ever seen Genie sad?

Yes.

Are you afraid to lose Rube?

Not really? I mean, I like him, he's my friend and all, but I could soldier on alone if he decided to go his separate way.

If Boris won $1 million, what would he/she do?

Buy something. Then invest it. He's boring like that. Boring Boris.

Can you share 3 good points about Nyx?

She's persistent, insightful, and loyal.

Do Gretchen and Rube hate each other?

They haven't met.

Christmas is coming, would you want to celebrate it with Dino?

Isn't he Jewish? But sure, if he wants to help my dad carry that ridiculously heavy tree, he's welcome to it.

Is Rube a shopaholic or no?

I highly doubt it. As addicted to the internet as me? Yes. Shopping, not so much.

Name one of Mario's body parts you simply love?
Hands. Well, and forearms, which kind of includes hands. And his hair on Saturday, but I'm not sure "I like this part when wet" is a legitimate answer.

Which is Kathrya's favorite season?

Summer, probably. No, winter. No, summer. No, winter.

What place would you like to visit with Kathrya that you haven't been to yet?

Again, anywhere she wants to go as long as she's with me.

What is Nyx's most prized possession?

The yellow pants. I mean, seriously, those are sick. Alternately, her boat.

Another Stolen Questionnaire

They make me happy.

1. With black hair: Ginny, darling.

2. Younger than you: Genie

3. In your class: Gretchen

4. One of your best friends: Kathrya, as the others show up elsewhere.

5. Older than you: if Mario wasn't conspicuously located below, I'd pop him in here. I think I'll use Dino instead, since he just turned older than me last week.

6. That lives close to you: Nyx

7. With curly hair: Julie, of course

8. That lives far away: Rube, I suppose.

9. You are unduly fond of: Mario. As if that's news to anyone.

10. You dislike: Rachel. Which is silly- I am, clearly, so much better than her, I shouldn't expend the energy. Boris, then. He's infinitely more dislikable.

How old is Gretchen?

Sweet sixteen, just like me. Until soon! yay!

Are Mario and Ginny friends?

Not really, no. Actually, I'm not certain I've ever heard them have a conversation. I haven't heard him say anything mean about her, though. I mean, he doesn't generally say unduly mean things unless he's around Irving and Irving is saying mean things, but I can't say that Irving talks about Ginny, so no.

Does Genie have any pets?

Yup. A dog. Coincidentally, it is identical to my dog.

Why do you love Kathrya?

Because she's always willing to offer a hug or a kind word, and can make me laugh even when I'm crying.

Does Dino hate Kathrya?

Oh, most definitely. As he said today: ewwww Kathrya. I don't like Kathrya. (although that was more because I pointed out that he'd said her name without insulting her in the same sentence).

What is Nyx's weakness?

That spot on her neck that everyone has where you pass out if somebody pushes it.

Where does Boris go to school?

Paperclip High, conmigo.

Who do you talk to more, Genie or Rube?

Genie, easily.

In how many years does Julie turn 21?

Uh...*counts on fingers* 5?

Whats Dino's favourite band?

The Land Before Time. We can pretend that's a band, right?

Would you ever have sex with Ginny?

Oh, yes. Mad, passionate sex. With, uh, passion. And stuff.

How far away does Gretchen live from you?

Not particularly distant.

Do you hang out with Rube a lot?

On Saturdays, at class. I'd go to pizza with him afterwards, but then I'd either have to pay for my own cab or miss the train, which just isn't going to work.

Who is crazier, Nyx or Mario?

It depends on how you define crazy. But Mario under more definitions.

How long have you known Kathrya?

Since sophomore year gym class.

Does Genie like Boris?

Genie doesn't know him, but I highly doubt she'd like him.

How old is Ginny?

My age.

What is your favourite thing about Rube?

Severe geekitude.

Have Kathrya and Dino made out?

Ha. Ha. Haaaaaaa. No.

Is Mario related to you?

No, fortunately.

What would you change about Boris?

Let's not talk quite so slowly.

What colour of hair does Kathrya have?

Blonde. Flaxen? I don't know what flax really looks like.

Is Ginny immature?

Not at all.

Whats your relationship with Nyx?

Nyxie is my bffl-ie

Is Rube still in school?

Yes. He probably even had school today. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Where does Julie live?

Across town.

Mario have any siblings?

Yup, mini-mario, the younger, taller, angrier counterpart.

What sports does Dino play?

Tennis. And math. Because math is a sport.

Have you ever held hands with Ginny?

No. No, I have not.

What kind of eyes does Kathrya have?

Blue ones. They're very pretty.

Have Nyx and Rube ever dated?

They haven't even met.

Have you ever seen Dino cry?

No. Now that would be interesting.

Do you have any classes with Boris?

Yes, sadly. Calculus. Woe is me.

Does Dino drink alcohol?

He likes to pretend that he does.

When is Nyx birthday?

ENERO!

If you had to go out on a date with Gretchen, where would you go?

THE MOOOOON!

Does Mario like to shop?

Considering the only time his wardrobe changes in Christmas, I highly doubt it.

How often does Kathrya go online?

Frequently.

Are Dino and Mario childhood buddies?

I don't think so...

Is Julie usually late, early or right on time?

I'd say on time.

Do you think Rube is happy with his/her life for the most part right now?

Probably, but I don't really know. Maybe parts of it.

Do you trust Julie?

Most definitely.

Here I Am, Blatantly Ripping Off Ginny's Stuff

My Six:

1-Mario

2-Nyx

3-Me

4-Gretchen

5-Tybalt

6-Irving (I think, for variety's sake, Bryant and Dino, my next to tags, shouldn't be repeated)

All 6 people move into the same house…

Who calls a bedroom first?
Irving. He just would.

Who goes straight to the bathroom to check their make-up?
Mario. And he's not checking his makeup, he's switching places with a clone.

Which person goes to the kitchen first?
Nyx. That one's easy.

You find out that friend’s number 4 and 6 are in the shower together. Do you care? And what do you do?
I would make sure he hadn't drugged her. Then I would make sure he didn't get her knocked up.

Which person has to sleep in the attic?

Mario, because he fights with Irving about the bedrooms and loses.

One room is a pink baby room, wants that room?
Nobody wants it, and Tybalt ends up stuck with it.

Who puts up so many posters that you can’t see the wall?
Nyx, probably.

House Party…(cause we're really the partying sort...)

Who decided to throw a party?

Nyx? Maybe? Or Irving? Nyx would probably get more people to come.

Who hides in their room while it’s going on?
Gretchen.

Who ends up making/buying all the food?
Me and Nyx.

Who starts a giant game of truth or dare?
I can't imagine any of us successfully pulling that off.

You find friend number 2 making out with the person you like, what do you do?
I would ask her how her boyfriend is doing, and take her blood alcohol level.

The Police show up, and friend number 5 called them… are you mad?
Nope.

You go to your room to sleep thinking everyone was kicked out, but you find some people you don’t know in your bed, now what?
Crash Gretchen's bed, since I've been fighting with Nyx about the boy.

Parents… (The day after your crazy party the parents of you and your friends pay a visit)

Who is grounded first?
Gretchen.

Who’s parents congratulate them?
Mine, probably.

Who is forced to move out for a bit?
Irving, maybe?

Who’s parents don’t care?

I don't know the guy's parents, so it's hard to say.

Who blames it on everyone else?
I blame Irving, he blames Mario, Mario blames me, and we all have a fun blame-shame triangle.

Back at the house…

Friend number 1 borrowed your Pj’s without asking, is that ok?

It depends on if I have spares. Also, I would want pictures of this ridiculousness.

Friend number 4 is blasting music, do you join him/her or shut it off?

Shut it off. Blasting music bugs me.

You have an exam tomorrow and friends number 2, 4, and 6 are being very loud, what do you do?

Tell them to go farther away. Alternately, move myself farther away.

Friend number 1 is hogging the bathroom all morning…
because all 8 of him have to shave.

Its April fools and someone took all your clothes and hid them, you have school in an hour, what do you do?

Run around screaming until someone takes pity on me.

Friend number 5 lost his cell phone… again!

He is permanently attached to Kathrya, so this is unrealistic.

You bought a really cute shirt!! What do you do with it?
Show it to Nyx.

Friend number 2 bought a dog for the house without telling anyone…
I'll warn Gretchen.

If there was someone singing in the morning who would it most likely be?
Me, probably.

If someone was considered the dad and the mom of the house, who would it be?
Ooooh. I don't know. Irving would attempt it, being the oldest, but Tybalt would be better, but Mario would beat out Tybalt, and I'm not sure if Mario would try to beat out Irving, but we would all like Tybalt better anyways. And the Mum would probably be Nyx. Or me. But I tend to need more mothering than her. Although, Gretchen could mother, but she can be a bit harsher.

If you wanted candy really badly and all of the 5 in the house had some, who would you take it from?

I would ask each of them for one sixth of their candy, and they would share, and then all six of us would have the same amount of candy.

If two people were caught making out in a closet who would it be?
Nyx would bring her boyfriend to visit, and then they would be caught wrestling in the kitchen. Does that count? Maybe not. Mario and Irving, then, definitely.

If someone had to watch you brush your teeth (every) morning, who would it be?
That's a really, really weird question.

There was two bags of chips bought at the store, but 20 minutes later they are gone. Who ate them?
Nyx or me. Possibly Mario.

Who would hate being in the house the most ?
Irving, definitely. Mario would be so happy Irving was there that he wouldn't mind.

Someone took (brand spanking new) pair of socks that were never worn, who is the thief?
Someone swept all the dirt under the rug, who was it?

If there was arguments in the house, who would be the ones arguing?
Gretchen and I would argue about my room being a complete and utter mess.

Who would be the one missing their boyfriend/girlfriend that wasn’t in the house with them?
Nyx and Tybalt both.

You walked down stairs in the middle of the night for a glass of water, someone is dancing on the table in their Leopard Thong, who is the crazy one?

I just mentally ran through the checklist of people and I am now so disturbed by the mental image of Irving in a leopard thong that I can't think anymore.

A pillow fight broke through, who started it?
Nyx, definitely.

There's a marathon of your favorite tv show, what is it? and who would be watching it with you?
I would be watching America's Next Top Model. Mario would be watching and comparing Tyra's advice to the advice in Cosmo.

Someone made a fort in the laundry room, who was the kid?
Nyx, most definitely. You fort builder, you.

There’s a prankster in the house that put plastic on the two toilets in the house, who are the pranksters?
Mario did it, but only because Irving told him to.

The musics too loud, who turned it up?
Nyx, duh.

Theres a mouse crawling on the floor all over the house,
a)who is the first one to scream?
b)and who is the one to jump is someones arms?
c)Who would be the one to kill it?

I scream and jump before realizing that it is a mouse and not a spider and calming down. Tybalt would do the manly thing and take the damn mouse outside.

Someone's crying, who is it and what happened?
I'm crying with Nyx and Gretchen because The Notebook was on TV.

Who made pancakes in the morning and almost caught the house on fire?
Tybalt. Definitely Tybalt.

Who gets sick of each other the fastest in the house?
Tybalt is ready to murder us after a week.

Someones tanning on the roof who is it?

Mario.

Who is the tallest in the house?
Tybalt, maybe? I don't know. I'm not sure how tall Irving is.

Who is the shortest in the house?
Gretchen, definitely.

Who is the loudest?
I'm not sure, to be honest.

Who is the clown?
Well, judging by their reaction when I screamed at the mouse, me.

Who is the most respectful?

Tybalt.

Who is the one you go to talk to the most?

Tie between Gretchen and Nyx.

Who is the one that always comes up with stupid ideas?
Mario, definitely.

Who's in bed first?

Mario and Irving. Together.

If someone woke everyone up with pots and pans who would it be?
Nyx.

Who is always dancing?
Me, most likely, dancing as I try to keep from knocking myself over.

Someone has the same sweater as you, so you get mad at them and who is it?

Irving. That sweater thief! How dare he copy my preppy v-neck!

You split ice all over the kitchen floor, who would be the one to slip on it first?

Me, of course. What kind of silly question is that?

Quantum Mechanics Confuses Me

This is primarily comprised of bad jokes and quotes, as, unfortunately, I really, really didn't understand the material.

In case you were wondering, photons make atoms excited. I suppose this is because atoms are jumping up and down, kind of, but not really.

Quantum mechanics focuses on particles and waves. I just missed the "map of the next two lessons" because I was zoned out looking at the really cute Asian boy on my right. Oops. I think he's Chinese, cause his eyes have a similar folding thing to Gretchen's, but I'm always awful at telling. Quantum mechanics is also when things are really small, like Planck's constant, which is also really small, 6.6 * 10^-16 eVs, although I'm not sure how big an eVs is, so that doesn't mean much.

Electric charge is quantized in multiples of e, which is the charge on an electron, not (1+1/n)^n. Light is also quantized and corpuscular, which according to Julie means occurring at dawn or dusk, which makes no sense, so I suppose we'll just ignore it. Angular momentum of electrons is also quantized, and I feel like that may be indicative of the various orbitals, but I really don't know.

Particle spin describes behavior of particles in magnetic fields, and it has "spatial quantization," in which vector arrows associated with the particles only point in specific directions with respect to magnetic field. Bosons and fermions are the two classes of particles. Bosons are whole integer numbers of a constant, and fermions are half, so it's basically like taking our odd/even numeric system and dividing by two.

Now, imagine a magnet. They line up north to south because that is the lowest energy configuration. Likewise, when in uniform electric fields, particles like to go in particular directions. I'm still not precisely certain why this isn't exactly the same thing as charge. Also, imagine electrons are spherical, like cows.

Moving electric charges reduce magnetic phenomenon. I have no clue what that sentence means, but it sounds profound, and it was in my notes. Now, I'm not going to talk about this equation, so let's discuss it in depth. Ah, well, that's confusing, let's not write it down. Also, everything about the spherical electrons is a lie. Moving along.

De Broglie found that massive particles (i.e. having mass, not big) exhibit wave properties, as does anything with momentum, its just that the wave-like nature decreases as objects get larger. A wave is a disturbance.

Also, my back hurts, and I want to lie down and sleep, so this will be finished at a later date.