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| Whoa. Been so long.
I haven't changed much, really. Learning more on Buddhism but complaining just as much.
A thought came today, on love and ideals. I guess mine can be split into two categories. It may seem like a cop-out, but it's easiest for me to name them after two anime characters: the Michirus and the Duos.
The Michiru: a creature of beauty. Not neccessarily physical, although its namesake had wavy hair (one of my weaknesses) and liquid grace. An intelligent philosopher type, but not too detached. The soft-spoken type, much better suited to expression through art, music, or poetry, rather than lengthy meaningless sentences, such as these. A gentle soul. Calm. Fragile, perhaps, in some sense... But not so fragile as the crushable lily placed in an antique vase on the mantle. No, I have no interest in "show lovers." An image of beauty kept for myself, as selfish as that sounds, and yet with a side that only I get to see... A tiger hiding within the vase.
Then there is the Duo. Physically, there's really nothing, except that I also have a weakness for braids. Don't ask why. Perhaps the overall "averageness" is more attractive than the soft beauty of the Michiru. The Duo is far livelier, more outspoken... Someone who can fill in the silences I leave. "Genki"? Not neccessarily. But cheerful? Yes. Brazen? Perhaps. Just nothing in excess. Just someone that, when the world seems empty, tiresome, desolate... When you forget all the wonderful things a child sees effortlessly, the Duo will be there to drag you outside and remind you just how much fun life can be.
Am I getting ahead of myself? A little too specific? A little too hopeful? Fuck idealism. It's not worth talking about if it will never happen. | | |
| Bad night.
My ear was bleeding profusely. It was really hard to get the earring off and even harder to get it back in -- the body tries to close it immediately, like an open wound.
I have lice. It's fucking scary. I don't normally approve of killing bugs, but this really freaks me out. I don't even want to go to sleep, but I don't know where they're from. Not the pillow grammy gave me years ago. I don't want to burn it. Or my hats. But I shouldn't be attached...
Geez. I've never been so afraid of something alive, especially something so small.
I think it came from grabbing a sax boy's hat at Band Day. I never noticed any of this until after that. My band uniform hat is another possibility, as we haven't worn them all Summer until Friday, and who knows what happened in between.
I am now the typical gross kid, I guess. Feel free to snicker and mock me even more.
Maybe I can blame the parasites for sapping my brainpower. It wasn't my fault that I couldn't write, I didn't really deserve those two-out-of-nines. It's all because my brain didn't get enough blood.
But no excuses. | | |
| It's good to come back home. Lots of 'last' this and that; they make my head spin.
Friday night was our last first home game. We only managed to play/march one song, while two of the others were done from a standing block. I have faith that we'll improve before the next one.
Today was the last U-Mass Band Day ever. That sort of sucks. The remnants of the hurricane caused rather heavy downpours throughout most of the day. More than half of the bands simply left. (56 were signed up to go the day before, he said about ten didn't show -- but when we went to play, only 10 or less were there.) Those of us that stuck it out found that the weather cleared quite nicely, leaving only a damp, mushy chill behind. I found it nice.
It's weird that when you're surrounded by lots of people, sometimes it manages to make you feel like you have no one to talk to. "And even if I did, I'd have nothing to say." | | |
| The slackerdom continues.
I didn't post in this all Summer -- wow. I haven't really bothered with the computer as much, so I guess that's part of it.
Been away, visiting colleges. That will be today's focus -- might as well make my journal useful for something . . .
CT: Connecticut (college) - First one I ever visited. It's not too far, and very close to Mystic Aquarium. First impressions mean a lot to me, and this place felt great from the get-go. I loved their honor code (allowing me to take my finals whenever and wherever I want, therefore avoiding the stuffy room full of strangers in which I test so terribly) and other little details, like the Knowlton language housing. The only problem is that they're pretty damn selective and expensive, but so are most of the colleges on my list. But hey, 750 or so acres, and it's all an arboretum? How many other liberal arts colleges have that?
VT: Marlboro - Very tiny (smaller than my graduating class) and rural, nice area though. Immediate comparison made by others: "girl scout camp." I liked it though. The day of the visit, most of the incoming freshmen were preparing for outing trips which the school uses as orientation. I was mistaken for a student a few times, but this led some "hippie" guys out on a porch to be very friendly. It seemed like many of the students shared the same political views/concerns for environment, society, etc. which gave it a nice feel. They are a school that definitely requires you to be self-driven and also demands strong writing skills ("Clear Writing" plus some kind of "Plan")
Bennington - This one reminded me of a local nature trail. Tour was very small (just me and one girl) but guide was very helpful. I liked their housing, which was mostly a few clusters of regular homes which similar people share. (A quiet house filled with mostly boys in science courses vs. a house full of girls who like loud music vs. a house for music students, etc.) Bennington also seems to have a "Plan" like Marlboro, but I don't know as much about it. Still, I'd really like to attend this school, and it isn't too far from Brattleboro, which is my new love.
Middlebury - Supposed to be great for languages, but I can't bring myself to like this school. It felt really . . . stale. It was raining the day we visited, too, which would've only helped it -- if I could have seen the campus. Most of the buildings were locked (they sent an apologetic letter soon after, saying that's never happened before and they'll make sure to fix the part of the tour they can control) so the tour wasn't worth much. Did manage to get into a dorm, though, which wasn't phenomenal. Basically I hated the campus and no particular program/aspect of the school impressed me, so thumbs down.
ME: Bowdoin - Nice wooded area, more pine trees than the others. Felt very. . .well, academic. The selectivity and rigorous work was the emphasis here. Didn't hear as much about living quarters and activities (except that there are a lot of them) but our tour guide offered an extensive explanation of their outing club as she was a leader within it. Not much else to report.
Colby - No tours that day (Freshmen were returning from their outing orientations, similar to Marlboro's) but nonetheless a big thumbs up. I don't know what was special about the campus but I liked it immediately. It was moderately forested (but actually less than Bowdoin) and all the buildings were a uniform brick, except for a cluster of white dorms. When we were looking at said dorms, however, some girls dropping off another student turned around, stopped next to us, rolled down the window, and offered any help they could. Had a brief conversation, basically they told us where the prettier parts of campus were. Very nice people.
Bates - Despite how much I loved this school on paper, it didn't do much for me in real life. I don't even know why. There were some nice spaces but nothing spectacular. The campus was alright, though I can't even remember much of the trip that day . . .
That done, I'll resume rereading (or pseudoreading/skimming/watching movies) for Summer AP English test on the first day of school. Wish me luck; I'll need it. | | |
| Eh. Now it's been a really long time again.
Well, to connect this to the last post (since I know all of my...one/two reader(s) were dying to know) -- I never wrote the letter or poem or anything. Actually, the only time I spoke to H since has been when she called me, asking what order the guitar strings went in, so she could tune hers. Oh well. Fate, I figure.
Lately there's only been a worry about a pseudo-research paper for English. (Yeah, for once, I appear to care about schoolwork.) We're just leaving the Transcendentalism unit, and so, to close, we were assigned that paper to define what Transcendentalism means. I guess it's cool, because everyone will have a different definition, and all of them could be true.
The rough draft was supposed to be due...today. However, my inherent laziness was one factor for not having completed it. Nor the outline. Nor the thesis statement. Yes, my slacker-dom definitely contributed (let's go with one kid's life motto -- "Work pays off later. Laziness pays off now.") but there was another reason. This unit is one that I actually care about. It's not like the History paper that I've complained about, because it's a subject that I have interest in, not some random choice after changing the topic three times before. I don't have it done because I don't want it to suck.
Yesterday afternoon, skipping the wasted 20 minutes of jazz, I went to visit the teacher, let's call her P- (for purple, the color of her obsession) Dickie (for Dickinson, the other obsession in her life.) It's funny, since she thought I was there because she called me out on the day our outlines were due, saying that she didn't think I would've had it anyway. P-Dickie thought I made a sad face, so she was ready to apologize. I just laughed, then gave her the real spiel.
She understood, she said, and could tell in what I've written and by my face that this crap meant something. She put it like this (paraphrased), which has once again renewed my interest in teaching, cheesy as that may be:
"As a teacher, you get to know the kids in a way no one else does. You see sides of them that nobody sees. Through their writing, not only the essays but even the quizzes. I can tell that you are insightful, inward-thinking and reflective, and incredibly intelligent. You can never tell. I hear people saying about so-and-so that must be going to Harvard or Yale, and I really just want to yell at them, 'NO they're NOT!' But I keep my mouth shut. You can see it all in what they do, despite outward appearances. The kid talking back to me in class may have the highest or the lowest grade, but they might understand the most. And you can't discount the quiet kids, either."
Man, that's a terrible paraphrasing job. In any case, I guess it was just a cool p.o.v. | | |
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