I feel like a hand-height section of my torso around the vicinity of my bellybutton has been filled with knives. I know I'd been saying for the past few days that I'd rather have the cramps than the soreness that precedes it, but at this point I'd go back in an instant.

At the very least, now I'm working on my math pset instead of going to a physics recitation. Which kind of counts as being productive. But, mostly, I just hurt.

That was written a while ago. Now it's much, much later, and I'm back at the dorm, and I'm pretending that it's still the 28th because it isn't 6 am yet. Being silly on Bonfire is a heck of a lot of fun. James continues to be highly ticklish, and Ruby is continuing her efforts to learn what girls James thinks are cute (so far--there is at least one computer science girl at AIS who I also know who is attractive. Also, James doesn't want a trophy wife when he grows up).

In other news, Victor's hair is incredibly fluffy, I babble about things I shouldn't when I get tired, and Nicole squees about gay boys and cats. I squee about astronomy, though (not, as Nicole thought, astrology. Good god...), so it kind of works out.

Now, I really should sleep. Even if sleep is for the weak.

Someone said that in 13 Days, which we watched for my foreign policy class. "Sleep is for the weak." So the statement could not have originated with Becton.

For Science!

As far as the title goes: please click (link credit goes to Greg).

Science Symposium today. Stupid Jeremy beat me out for a physics award (insert grumbling here). At one point, Billy received an award for being generally great (or something like that...I was sitting in the back reading Quicksilver and not really paying attention). In the department head's explanation, he mentioned that "Billy does an excellent job of showing people that science isn't nerdy---it's awesome!"

I was like, "Wait, what? Science is nerdy!"

Yuma turned to me, his face shocked. "It's awesome because it's nerdy."

Thank you to Yuma for selecting the appropriate response.

Musings on Nothing

I am cold. For some reason, the temperature of the air when I'm walking outside in the sun doesn't translate well to the inside of my room.

I am hungry. Apparently the cupcakes I devoured during lunch were not sufficient to hold me over. The dry rice crispies that my tutor-ee and I ate while I was teaching her to classify triangles was also not enough...Shelby just came in to call me to dinner. More later.

It is now later. Dinner was chicken parmesan, and it was delicious. I wish that I was capable of spelling delicious without the assistance of spellcheck, I really do. I'm now trying to think of what happened today in an attempt to come up with something halfway worth reading. The squabbles in the truck on the way to school with Genie and Shelby, for example, do not qualify as interesting. Nor does the fact that our household ran out of 2% milk.

I keep wanting to add \ to the front of the percent. LaTeX is slowly doing me in.

I have been be-ticketed for prom. I let Peter pay for my ticket--I'm not sure that I should have, but he said that he was in a brook-no-arguments sort of tone that really ought to have bothered me but didn't. Dad advised me, when I was worrying over it later, that his mother was probably paying for it, and she'd given me at least eighty dollars of grief over the years, so I really shouldn't worry. Ginny and Yuma have also both be-ticketed themselves--I'm not totally clear on whether her parents are aware that she's going with Yuma, though I don't know how much they'd care at this current point in time anyways.

I hope Ginny starts blogging again when she gets to college, because I'd like to have some way to keep up with her life. Hopefully I will have more to write about than just psets, and this will be a decent medium for keeping up with my life.

The second half of my physics final was uneventful. At least, I think it was uneventful--first period isn't usually clear enough in my memory for trustworthy recollections. My free periods in the caf dragged on for far too long. Facebook ate a bunch of notifications. I should probably play the piano but lack the motivation.

I've continued reading Woolf's The Voyage Out. Her characters are remarkably realistic. I feel like I know them, and they're tangible, and yet they're far too complex for me to predict their behaviors. It's a big departure from Sanderson's characters--his women in particular seem to all be somewhat similar, a complaint that's frequently been made of Jordan's work, which is interesting. But, then again, Woolf is on a whole different playing field.

I'm going to go back to my reading.

Return

I've been gone for a while, to say the least. The main reason for this was that I felt I'd outgrown the semioverachiever label. I was feeling like I was past whatever impulse drove me to start the blog. I'd also gone somewhat public, which was disconcerting (kind of gets in the way of rambling, emotional, boy-related posts). There was also the matter of the name itself.

Right now, I don't feel like a semioverachiever. I feel like an overachiever. I don't sleep enough, I'm busy, and I keep winning things and getting into colleges. I found that magic formula, got in everywhere I applied, and then got accepted to a gap year program every bit as prestigious. I keep winning at life, and I've started to feel like I'm actually powerful, like I could actually change the world, like I could actually make a difference right here right now.

I've lost sight of who I am. I don't mean that I'm supposed to be less of a beast, but I've been letting it get to my head. There are so, so many things I haven't learned yet. So, yes, I've managed to be the perfect applicant, and yes, I was told by a girl who is smart enough that people's jaws drop when they hear of her accomplishments that I "ooze brilliance," and people are impressed by my vision and insight and all that bullcrap--but I don't know how to right a rigorous proof, or maximize output from a wind farm, or build the designs that sit in my head. I don't know even basic statistics. There are huge, huge holes in my knowledge.

I need a college education to fill those holes. Sorry, Mr. Thiel, but I'm not ready. I'll take those two years after college, before grad school. They won't be with you, they won't have that safety net, but you know what? This won't be the only opportunity. I'm going to go to college with some of the smartest students in the world. I will come out of it feeling like an idiot--which is the point--but I will make opportunities.

I may not be ready to be a grownup, but I am ready to make this decision.

That was a digression, to say the least. I'd intended to discuss why I was coming back. The reason I'd stopped writing is that I felt I'd outgrown the label. But I haven't, not really. Yes, I'm 18, but I'm not an adult. Yes, I apparently win a lot of stuff, but there are a lot of things I don't win, and there's a lot that I have still to learn. I haven't become an overachiever just because I've been busy. I'm still just me, and I still care more about my friends than I do about being top of my class.

I can overachieve later. For now, I will return to attempting to be myself, whatever that entails.

On Organization

I have decided to start using Google Calendar. So as not to overwhelm myself, I am programming in regular activities one day at a time for the next week (thus far--great success!). I am making bunches of calendars so that I can color code (well, like 3...but they are well color-coded). I feel on top of the world. Something about preparing to do work makes me feel very productive.

This is kind of like how, in my attempts to get going on creating a research paper out of battery project, I wrote half of an abstract (still need to write the paper to determine how I want to phrase the whole "results" thing, what with this being a design rather than an actual experiment), worried about the fact that I haven't done an experiment (I'm going to faiiiil, etc. Particularly since I could always just submit my other project). I then copy and pasted the introduction from the relevant patent (the one I wrote...I am not plagiarizing, thank you very much). I panicked due to the fact that I had an insane number of windows. I spent a good half an hour enabling and setting up "Spaces" on my computer. I hate spaces. I want ubuntu, where I can just drop windows off into different desktops. This stupid thing makes me separate by application, which means all recreational web use is currently relegated to Chrome, and Firefox has been updated and is now being put to use running programming tutorials and displaying papers. I also dropped TeXShop, TeXWorks (yeah, my capitalization is probably funky) and NeoOffice in that space, so I'm using MS Word in space one, which means my poor compy is running about 10,000 applications, which is stressing it out a little bit.

I also discovered Asus is coming out with a new laptop that is not unreasonably priced, and is light, and pretty. I like pretty things. I like Asus. Yay laptops.

In other news, I have paid off 44% of the fees due to my *cough* errant driving. Oooooh, we're (almost) halfway there (wooooaaaah).

Moving along, moving along.

It's late. I'm hungry. I always get hungry right before I want to go to bed. I'm pretty sure it's giving me tooth decay (cue a round of "my shiny teeth and me" for no reason other than that I want it to get stuck in someone else's head). I suppose this is why JSHS allows for a "Late Night Snack." Fortunate, that.

I also apparently never got a sixth judge in the science fair. I assumed 2 groups, like it said on my sheet, was what was necessary, but apparently I should have waited through lunch for that additional judge. So weird. Certainly a bit of a confidence-booster, though.

Also, the AMC was fun. So much fun! I love math! I love fun! Wheeeeeeeee =)

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.

Chrome vs. Safari

I have made the switch to Google Chrome, and I do not regret it one bit. I am a Safari-user no more. For some reason, Safari got slower (I don't know if it was some update, or if my computer is getting old, or something unrelated), and began doing this awful thing referred to as 'crashing' when I opened up too many windows and tabs (an unfortunately frequent occurrence).

I love Chrome because the tabs operate separately, so when one crashes, I don't lose all the others in that window. I love chrome because I can drag and drop the tabs all over the place (I may have been able to do this with Safari, but I'm not sure). I love that I can 'go incognito' and have a spy dude with dark spectacles, a trenchcoat, and a hat keeping watch for me--I especially love that opening an incognito window displays a message warning me that incognito browsing does not protect against "people standing behind you." I found this entertaining enough that I used incognito browsing totally unnecessarily until I realized how dependent I am on being able to search my history.

Aside from that--Chrome is fast. It is faster than firefox on my machine, though both are faster than Safari. I will admit that I have not tried Opera, and that Chrome probably just provides another way for Google to stalk me, but I get so excited when I type one or two letters in the top bar, press enter, and arrive at my frequently visited sites that I honestly don't care.

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*

Reasons

REASONS WHY I COULD NEVER MANAGE A TRADITIONAL HIGH SCHOOL RELATIONSHIP

1) I am way too busy

2) The people involved in them always seem really into it. I take one look at romantic and think "sappy, sappy, sappy." Unless it's in romance novels, but even then, there are times when I just end up yelling NARM in my head. Like I did out loud during the HP7 movie when Ron was going on and on and on about that ball of light. For reals, I'm a big Ron/Hermione shipper, and I thought it was too much.

3) That busy thing, again.

4) I can't remember the last time I had free time.

5) But really, if I did, I'd rather spend it reading webcomics.

6) We'll ignore the fact that my last relationship did a very good job subsisting on webcomics.

7) Including during the breakup.

8) That goddamned idiot.

9) Seriously, if that's what high school has to offer, I am more than happy to leave it alone.

REASONS WHY I AM WAY TOO BUSY

1. I am smart.
2. But not smart enough to only work hard enough to skate by.
3. In fact, even when I could work a lot less hard than I do, I put in a lot of effort.
4. I like to think of it as dedication.
5. Also, I'm kind of trying to hold down jobs.
6. It's a fun time.
7. I talk online too much.
8. I don't know how to "reflect" in a timely fashion.
9. I take too much time to draft my English papers.
10. I get distracted and read books.
11. I get distracted and play tetris.
12. I develop headaches and lie down.
13. I don't have effective time management skills.
14. Except when I do have effective time management skills, but then I forget to eat

REASONS WHY I ONLY ATE ONE MEAL TODAY

1. Scones are really filling
2. I've eaten five scones during the course of the day.
3. After eating half a pack of blueberries, I forgot to eat breakfast.
4. Then we had Channukah Brunch at 2:30.
5. At that point, it didn't make sense to eat dinner.
6. Then I wrote my Lit X paper again.
7. That made me forget about food

REASONS WHY I AM STRESSED OUT

1. I really want to go to MIT
2. I applied early action to MIT
3. I don't actually know when the early action decision comes out
4. It's probably not far enough away for me to finish my list of things I need to get done by that date.
5. My college essays are crappy.
6. If I don't get into MIT, I'm going to cry, and I don't particularly enjoy crying.
7. My room looks like a tornado blew though.
8. No, seriously, a tornado. It's getting really bad.
9. All I want to do is read.
10. Then sleep.
11. I miss sleep.
12. Also, I want to sit at home and work instead of going to school.
13. Because school is not productive, and I need to have complete productivity until I finish this shit.
14. I'm actually kind of looking forward to winter break, because even if I don't get in early anywhere, I can work uninterrupted. Kind of.

REASONS WHY I SHOULD NOT BE STRESSED OUT

1. Probability states that I will get into MIT
2. Even if I don't get into MIT, I have lots of solid backup plans, and it's a hard school to get into, and no one will think less of me if I don't get in.
3. If anyone does think less of me, I will take them down.
4. Well, I'll try to get Nyx to beat them up, which is kind of the same thing.
5. I have super awesome friends (like Nyx), who would totally be mean to people if people were mean to me.
6. People are not, generally, particularly mean to me. As a nerd, I could have it a lot worse.
7. Early Action decisions might come out late, in which case I'll have more time to finish my to do list.
8. I will edit my college essays until they are not crappy.
9. I always get all my work done. This will be no exception.
10. I can sleep when I'm dead.
11. I can also sleep next semester.
12. It's almost CHRISTMAS PARTY TIME
13. and then it's CHRISTMAS TIME
14. I AM SO EXCITED
15. WHOOO
16. YAY
17. LOOK HOW NOT STRESSED I AM RIGHT NOW

Lemocy

What a beautiful, beautiful captcha. I bet Dino cried at that.

So, what is occurring in my life? I'm reading The Purity Myth and freaking myself out.

"Have you already unwrapped the priceless gift of virginity and given it away? Do you now feel like "second-hand goods" and no longer worthy to be cherished? Do you ever wish you could re-wrap it and give it only to your future husband or wife? Guess what? You can be abstinent again! You can't change the past, but you can change the future. You can decide today to commit to abstinence, wrapping a brand-new gift of virginity to present to your husband or wife on your wedding night."

--from this website, from which we can also learn that people who have sex like to do so "when there's no one around."

"Your body is a wrapped lollipop. When you have sex with a man, he unwraps your lollipop and sucks on it. It may feel great at the time, but, unfortunately, when he's done with you, all you have left for your next partner is a poorly wrapped, saliva-fouled sucker."

This is a) a mixed metaphor and b) sexist. Because nobody bothered to compare men to these. Unless they're saying that men would become one of those if they have sex with other men. In which case we should all just be lesbians. Screw men.

I'm not sure I can take much more of this.

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.

Dear World, Fate, and What Have You

Why are you so fucking stupid? I don't like having to write two grief posts in one year.

I'll miss his bedhead.

http://xkcd.com/791/

The Degree of Neglect

That you have been experiencing is pathetically large. Much of it stems from the fact that I got rather ill on the 11th (the day we're pretending it is right now), and the rest stems from a lot of interesting occasions related to the opposite gender that I will not transcribe here because my RSI blogs are not precisely anonymous.

Regardless, I apologize, and I will try to make it up to you as soon as I can.

On July 11th, I slept until noon. I was up late as well, and I suppose I could relate that in my account, but there wasn't much to relate, aside from the fact that Rube and two of his friends had visited the evening before to play frisbee, and that they'd wanted more people than just me, so I'd called Dawson, who was with Gabriel, and we spent like ten minutes about a hundred yards apart, waving at each other without the other one seeing, on the phone going "I'm doing jumping jacks." "I can't see you" "Seriously, I'm right here!" while Rube and friends looked confused.

We eventually rounded up a larger group of people, but then those PROMYS jerks proceeded to kick our butts, which was somewhat bad. Apparently Rube's whole long distance running and good hand-eye coordination thing makes him good at frisbee. How very frustrating.

Anyways, back to the 11th. I got up at noon, and then my wonderful family came to visit about an hour later. My sisters (Shelby in particular) were very appreciative of the ball pit, which is understandable, considering that it is completely and utterly awesome. Eventually the family left, and I went to W20 with a backpack full of papers and settled down to read.

About a half an hour later, I felt like complete crap, so I walked back to Simmons to recuperate. I was so hot after the walk that I lay down on the couch on the first floor and refused to move. My tylenol, however, was upstairs. It was an extremely unfortunate situation.

At some point, Teresa came over and asked if I wanted her to buy me some medicine. I said that I had some upstairs, I just hurt too much to move, so I gave her my key and she went up to get them.

However, Teresa is an international student, and she didn't know the names of pills, so she brought down my entire bag. Unfortunately, the entire bag consisted of a giant pink plastic Victoria's Secret monstrosity, because it was the only thing my mother could find in the house that was opaque and large enough to put food in as well. Larry, who was on the couch opposite me, took one look at the bag and began to laugh. Teresa left, I rolled over and ignored Larry, and then I thought about how to get the bag upstairs without either moving or letting too many people see it.

A few minutes later, someone shoved their hands over my eyes. They felt squishy, warm, and biggish, and there is a limited number of people who would do such a thing to me, so I growled "Nicholas" in an angry voice. The hands immediately went away.

It wasn't Nicholas.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," said the boy, who was, I think, one of the MITES.

"Yeah, I figured."

"Sorry."

I shrugged.

"This is really awkward."

"Yeah."

"Like, really awkward."

"Yeah." Suddenly, I had an idea. "Hey, do you want to redeem your awkwardness?"

"Depends what I have to do."

"Can you bring this bag to my room for me?"

"Okay."

So, I gave him the bag and my key, and away he went.

Larry rolled over to look at me. "Did you seriously just give him your room key?"

"Yes?"

"You trust him?"

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"You don't know him!"

"I dunno, I just trust people. Maybe it's stupid, but I do."

"Oh."

Larry and I looked at each other, then turned to look at the elevator, then we both began to laugh somewhat hysterically.

We were still laughing when, fifteen minutes later, the boy returned, my key in his hand, apologizing for how long the elevator took.

I continued to lie on the couch and moan for quite some time. At some point, I called Dawson to beg for food, who called Ululani and got him to bring me a bagel. I got first Nell, then Bing to sit on my legs and keep them warm, and when Dawson showed up I got use of his towel as a blanket, and Maxwell brought my my ipod, and the moral of the story is that if one moans about how crappy they feel for long enough, people will do nice things.

Yay!

It has been eight days since I last posted

Whoops.

I suppose I could post retroactively, since blogger enables me to.

I went back to the last day that we had, and I can't remember much at all. I know that we had a speaker who'd gone to RSI, and I could share gossip about him, but, in the scheme of things, that's somewhat identifiable, which would be, overall, not good.

Ah, wait, it's beginning to come back to me. Last Thursday, the day before the day which I am going to put this post on, I got moved to a new mentorship, which is really, really unusual, and I'm not going to talk about it anymore for fear of stepping on virtual toes, which, to be perfectly honest, I've done quite a lot of already.

Anyways, I got moved over to nuclear engineering. Yes, that's right, nuclear engineering. Because, you know, electrical didn't sound quite imposing enough. Now, some of you might be aware of the fact that I know very little about nuclear energy. As in, most of what I learned about it I learned from a single information packet that I got during summer chemistry, long, long ago. Thus, I have spent a large percentage of the last few days (and all of both Thursday and 'today') reading an introductory textbook to nuclear energy.

While nuclear engineering is rather riveting, textbook reading is rather exhausting, so I didn't write very much, if at all, during that textbook period.

Weirdly, the spellcheck on this computer refuses to believe that didn't is a word. I am very, very confused.

Because I know I will be too busy tomorrow...

Here is a video. It made me happy. Also, I found it by myself, without the help of Nyx. Not that I generally have the help of Nyx. Or Cammie, for that matter. No help at all.

I'm Back and In Business

Well, I'm in buisiness in if going to do library to study and do homework because the house has been inundated by members of the extended family counts as business, and I say that it does.

It's good to be back. I was gone for quite some time because, as I explained in my previous post, I was busy making an animation.



And there, my darlings, is said animation. Hooray for being done! Hooray for staying up past midnight to finish! Also, hooray for book awards, for taking two hours out of my animation time (it's okay, I got cool books. Yay Shakespeare!)

I'm still a bit sleepy, which manifests in some rather severe overenthusiasm. I apologize.

Omegle Can Be Entertaining

Particularly when you spend the entire conversation discussing potential alien invasions and zombie attacks.

Now, I need to do another free-write for English, but, well, zombies are far more fun. I shall pull up the list of potential topics as I talk.

Fiction from a limited narrator's point of view. I could do that, probably, but what to write about?

Childhood Make-Believe, Acting.

I like that topic.

Well, Ginny covered ride there

here, so I figured I'd take care of the next bit.

Despite the tardiness of three of the eight paperclips, we still arrived at the high school early, and, due to the absurdly tight arrival schedule, waited for about five minutes outside of the parking lot before getting dropped off.

As we drove over, a pair of decidedly math-geek looking boys were playing frisbee on the tennis courts. Mario and Irving derided their skill. While I can accept that Mario is probably decent as frisbee, since he does seem to be relatively athletic, as far as math team people go, I highly doubt that Irving could have done much better.

Regardless, we walked into the school to a separate area from Mr. Booth, so we had to take a few minutes to make extra certain that everybody was equipped with a TI-84 for the team round (which was completely useless, as I don't think I even touched mine) and hear a last minute "down with Treeburg" reminder before we filed off to the cafeteria.

I went to the bathroom soon after arriving, bringing Ginny along with me. This detail is not relevant at this point in the story, but it is foreshadowing. Note the foreshadowing.

Moving along. The four present members of the dream team sat on one side of out little section of bleachers, and we sat on the other. Our group, consisting of Ginny, Micro, Argon and I, discussed the relative visible nerdiness of the various students. For instance, the girl who was clad entirely in purple, including a too-tight-weirdly-cut-oddly-long purple dress, leggings of the same shade and purple sneakers: nerdy. Blonde guy in cargos with a long blonde ponytail: nerdy. Short guy doing handstands without tucking his shirt: very nerdy. Tall, otherwise reasonable looking guy wearing a t-shirt that said "I failed the Turing test": nerdy. Team of guys wearing sunglasses like Nia's normal ones and carrying a boombox: trying too hard to not be nerdy, but failing when they turned on the boombox at a not ear-shattering volume.

There was then a supremely horrific degree of disorganization of us trying to find our rooms, but we did eventually do so. I met a girl from my cousin's hometown who looked extremely not nerdy, but I have a feeling that this is more because she is black, and my image of a nerd is either asian or white or occasionally indian, than anything else. Midway through the first round, when "TWO MINUTES" was called (I realize that that is technically not midway. Forgive me), I jumped and said "oh my god," then mentally congratulated myself for not swearing, although I'm fairly certain that I did manage to get a big fat 0 on that round, unfortunately. Honestly, I would feel so much more secure with myself if I'd just gotten that one three-point negative sign....

Ah, well, c'est la vie. I need to get back to calculus. Ginny, if you want to continue this, please do.

Facebook Hacking

Maxwell's facebook got hacked. He posted a link on all of his friend's walls about "How Acai Berry and Colon Cleanse changed my life forever!" My first reaction was to assume he was an annoying facebook user and delete it.

However, Maxwell is not at all accustomed to facebook. He communicates using unusual methods, and he has a profoundly confusing habit of actually ending all of his posts with "Maxwell." I mean, a signature? Really? In this day and age? Regardless, I'm fairly certain that Maxwell only created his facebook after the CEE sent out an email talking about the group, and he only has a hundred some-ought friends. So, he proceeded to apologize to most of them, but not me, because I'd deleted mine.

Take, for example, his exchange with Gaea. She commented "..." on the original post. He wrote on her wall the next day "Sorry, Gaea, this is not from me! Maxwell." Her response? "ok now I'm more confused then ever."

Personally, I am impressed by her grasp of a second language. Gaea lives in Japan, after all, which is very far far away.

Anyways, just to make certain that the entire human population (or, at least, the 105 members of the facebook group) got the memo, Maxwell wrote one more apologetic message, with emphasis on NOT FROM ME and "I really prefer e-mail" (with the hyphen), and a warning about the new "Instant Personalization" setting, which sounds invasive and defaults to on (BE FOREWARNED!).

I commented with the following reminder:

"I wouldn't worry about it. One of my friend's fbs once got hacked, and she sent a link to a website that was either porn or cybersex (judging by people's reactions. I never actually clicked the link) to every one of her facebook friends, and people still talk to her."

An Asian guy who's facebook indicates Scandinavian origins responded by praising the juice that not-Maxwell had been shilling.

Maxwell responded to me with a four line message (two of which were "Hi Tea" and "Maxwell") including two exclamation marks and thanking me for the reassurance, via inbox.

I'm not sure if either of us are being sarcastic, and I'm really, truly uncertain of which side of the exchange is, overall, the most awkward.

Calc Test Tomorrow AAAAAHHHHH

Polar and parametric curves will be the death of me.

I'm freaking out, so, I'm sorry, but you're not going to get the transcription of a certain conversation today.

However, let it be stated that he said he wants to talk to "you" plural (referring to me, Ali and some number of people she told) tomorrow during gym class, which Kathrya will no doubt find interesting.

Also entertaining:

"That sounds kinda hilariously awkward and uncoordinated. So you fell three times in total today? Nice! Oh man, if a frisbee comes at my face I am definitely going to dodge the fuck away - someone in my physics class got hit in the eye with a frisbee and lost vision in that eye for at least a month. X_X But yeah, frisbees are delightful. You kinda sound like you’ll be fun to play frisbee with, to be honest, assuming you don’t hurt yourself (am I a bad person for thinking you sound fun to be around because you’re uncoordinated?)"

Direct quote from Andy, except I took out the shifty-eyes because the diamonds screw with HTML.

That was in response to me telling him about gym class today, in which "I tripped over my own feet and was lying on the turf, and then my friend went to pick me up and she couldn't so we both ended up lying on the ground and laughing hysterically. Then I tripped over one of my other friends later, and I slammed into somebody else and fell over again, and it was rather pathetic."

That one's quoting me, of course.