Upcoming Topics

  • Homosexual Disreperancies
  • "You're like, stupid. Don't you know that Christianity and Catholicism are two different, you know, religions?"
  • Makeup controversy
  • Top 10 Bible Pick-up Lines
  • Koalas, and their bear-killing powers
  • Flouncing
  • Daily Routine (for my ABBers!)

Monday, September 29, 2008

Holy Mother of Buddha*

*note: I have this tagged under "tragedy" for good reasons.

I was at the JROTC Cadet/NCO of the Month inspections, listening in as each cadet was being quizzed. One of the current event questions was, "Who is John McCain's vice presidential pick?" A good question, I thought, if an easy one. After all, these cadets nearly all were planning to go to the Army, so I assumed they would know some chain of command from Washington.

I also thought that given the crazy amount of press she's been given in the past few weeks, people might just know the answer to this innocent little question. You know, just maybe. I could definitely forgive them if they were asked who Sarah Palin was three months ago, and they didn't know the answer. But....she's not some hodunk conservative politician from way over in empty Alaska anymore. She's the Republican veep pick.

The answers we received:

1. Condoleeza Rice?
2. ...I have no idea.
3. Oh man, I forgot her name, but I absolutely know it begins with an M!
4. Joseph Biden.

I mustered up a weak laugh before crawling into a hole underneath the carpet.


Saturday, September 27, 2008

A Music Quiz

I love music quizzes, but sometimes the answer is boring. So what I did was take all my strangely titled songs, and picked from solely those. And oh boy. SO FUN.

1. Some days I just feel like: Allah-lala (I'm not kidding. There's a song, poorly translated, that comes out to this phonetic spelling. XD)
2. Right now I am thinking: Touch Me (You know you want to.)
3. My favorite type of day is: Lacy Stockings and Cheap Perfume
4. Nothing beats a good: Wraith Pinned to the Mist
5. When stuff confuses me, I just say: Booty Call
6. My view on sex is summed up with this word/phrase: Pageant of the Bizzare (....huh.)


8. I hope my last words are: Still Alive (So profoundly ironic.)
9. Myspace quizzes like this are dumb. I’d rather: Punctured Brains
10. At my funeral, they’d better be listening to: JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR (THEY'D BETTER.)
12. Some days I just want to scream out: MAZURKAS FOR PIANO
13. I love to eat, especially when the food tastes like: Bananas.
14. I’m not racist, I just like to: Cult of Cherries.
15. Lots of these made no sense, but that’s because: Things I Don't Know.
16. My music knows me best, that’s why it knows that all I want for Christmas is: Colliders, Black Zones, and other Forces of the Unknown, A Tribute to the Heart of Humankind (Another poorly translated title. XD)
17. When I laugh a lot of people say I sound like: Clark Gable. (XDDDDDDDD)
18. My feelings on gay marriage are summed up in this word/phrase: Nothing Better (YES!)
19. If that last one made no sense to you, then I just have this to say to you: Surgeons
20. My last thought after this little quiz thing is this: My Humps (I'm so embarrassed I have this song.)

Thursday, September 25, 2008

I don't understand myself

I like to think myself as completely different from a Mary Sue character in a cheesy 60's novel that keeps getting rejected by a dark and mysterious guy, only to keep returning to grovel at his Gucci-loafered feet while he disdainfully looks on.

Recently, however, my behavior has been quite to the contrary (but don't get me wrong - I think loafers are fugly).

There's this friend of mine that I've known since sixth grade. Right now, I'm S, and he's K. I'd say that we've been best friends until ninth grade - and at that point, K considered me to still be his best friend, but my fondness for him began to wane because of his self-centeredness and lack of tact. We had a few fights over the silliest things that he was creating an unnecessary amount of drama over, and each time I kind of promised myself that an idiot like him wasn't worth any of my emotional expense.

And yet each time, I forgave him. I hated it afterwards for allowing him to whore out my feelings like he did, but it seems like I've become some ridiculous damsel in distress that everybody can bend this way and that (no dirty jokes, please =]). I know I have a spine, and I always stand up fiercely for what I believe in, but my spine seems to wilt a little every time I see or talk to him. He doesn't deserve all my second chances and forgiveness, but I always give in to him and I realize how destructive it's being to me.

I mean, this is the kind of behavior that battered housewives that never leave their abusive husbands have.

So while I like to think that I have a strong will and I'm stubborn, my actions from whenever I'm around this guy completely contradicts it. I can promise myself all I want that I'll change the way I regard him, but it never happens. I need to find the strength to oppose him and realize that his presence is detrimental to me.

At this point though, I'm too used to this whole cycle to really feel as if it's urgent to change. Since I barely see him at all anymore, I suppose I'll just keep bending this way and that for him until we both go our separate ways in college.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Color Study - Blue

Top 10 Reasons My Brother is the Perfect Asian Child

*he is 7 years old, by the way.

1. A few days ago, he peeked over my shoulder, and after a moment of intense 1st-grade concentration, he said, "Sis...you got number one wrong. It's fourteen, not eighteen." And I sat there, dumbfounded that my little brother taught himself the principles of negative numbers (also, how the hell did I get -21 + 7 wrong?).

2. I was reading TIME magazine lazily on the couch when he prances (he does this, and it's terrifying) over and plops next to me. A few seconds later, he says with perfect pronunciation, "Why does that old guy hate Guantanamo Bay?"

3. He beat me in a round of Big Two/Thirteen/Chinese Poker 6-2.

4. He beat me in a round of chess, in which I had 4 pieces left and he had 10.

5. He beat Yuan in a round of chess. Yuan, as in Yuan Tao. And that girl is my definition of genius.

6. He knows what delectable, nefarious, and fabulous means. I'm a little worried as to how he thinks fabulous is the most fabulous word ever, and parades it around a lot.

7. He knows how to make custard.

8. He finished one face of my Rubik's cube, with the layers in the right place.

9. He actually tries to speak Chinese.

10. He went up to my mom and said, "I love you more than Sister does. I love you more than Daddy does. I love you more than both of them plus both of them times two." A minute later, he said, "Can I watch TV?"

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Top 10 Astonishingly Intelligent Ways to Cheat on Tests

1. Copy your notes backwards, because Da Vinci was a mofo. Tape this to the bottom of your desk. Bring a mirror and hold it under your desk to reflect the notes. Surreptitiously glance at it when you need to know the datethat Jimmy Carter was attacked by a deranged rabbit. When your teacher catches you looking at the mirror, tell her that you can't stop admiring your sexy good looks all the time. (James Unteidt, this one is for you, because your teacher would actually believe it. XD)

2. Get a T-shirt with Einstein's picture on it - the one where he has crazy hair and he's sticking out his tongue because he's a mofo. Flip the T-shirt upside down. Inside his crazy hair, write down physics formulas. During the test, look down at the T-shirt when necessary. Your teacher will assume that Einstein's exceptionally insane hair is distracting you, or that you have Tourette's.

3. This one works best if you're sitting close enough to somebody to hear them, but not close enough to see their paper. Both of you learn Morse code, because Samuel Morse was a mofo. During the test, tap Morse on your desk to ask your buddy what the answer is to number 5.

4. Take a fat, clear pen. Take a piece of paper. With tinyass handwriting, write notes on the paper, roll it so the text is facing outwards, and slip it into the pen. During the test, you can closely examine the pen when necessary. Be warned: you'll look like a dork.

5. Wear dark pants. Write on your hand with a light-colored water soluble pen. Look at it when necessary. If your teacher catches you, quickly sneeze wetly into your hand, and subtly slide it on your pants to erase everything. If your teacher sees remnants of ink, say that you had an art project the class before.

6. This works best if you're a girl or a flexible guy (or a guy with literally no balls). Take a slip of paper and write, once again, with tinyass handwriting on it. Tape it to the side of your shoe, and sit with your foot on your seat. Glance down when needed.

7. Take a sheet of notebook paper (preferred, because it has distracting colored lines) and with a pencil, write extremely lightly on it. Put it on your desk during the test and pretend it's your cover sheet.

8. This only works if you have somewhat thick, very long hair - as in, boob-length hair. Wear a bulky jacket. Record your notes by voice and safe it on you iPod. On the day of your test, wear your hair in pigtails and conceal in each pigtail the earbud and wire of your iPod, which you stick inside your jacket. Listen to your notes during the test.

9. Write all your information down. The day of the test, act very, very sick. Before your class period, stick the information somewhere in a nearby bathroom. During the test, claim you are about to throw up and run dramatically out of the room, and go to wherever you hid your information. Don't do this more than thrice.

10. Take your graphing calculator, and push 2nd, and then ALPHA. Write your notes. Leave it on your desk, and glance at it when necessary.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

All you IB kids

A lot of people have been really upset after receiving their progress reports and seeing the nasty numbers there (And then our parents disowned us and cast us to the street).But guys, seriously - things will get better.

IB - nightmarish studying and hardcore nerd-ing. We signed up for this program in eighth grade, knowing the low national graduation rate, and knowing that this was a golden opportunity to stand out to our dream colleges. But we swore that we could take it on, and worked through fish and soph year. Perhaps we didn't cherish the thought of living out the horror stories our older IB friends told us ("There's no such things as 'all-nighters' - you'll pull 'all-weekers'."), but the point is that despite hearing about the difficulties we would go through, we still stayed in the program.

Now we're all at PESH. We've received our first reports. And overall, those numbers are fugly. Even the geniuses are pissed with their grades, and it's no surprise.

All I want to say to you is: It's okay.

If you're failing, we're all failing. We will fail together - that's a given - but we will also succeed together, and you have to keep yourself afloat in the promise that we're all going to get over the nasty first semester alive. IB is a hugeass family. We suffer through the same IBUSH notes, weep over the same Physics problem banks. Everybody struggles, and those who claim they aren't are secretly staying up all night to get through.

But the beauty of the struggle is that we rely on each other for help. We work together, and - horrendously cheesy and 90's as it sounds - that makes us a strong team. People post up Pre-Calc and Physics tutorials, trying to help their friends and IB family. People gather together during lunch to push their way through Crime and Punishment. There's no GPA whoring (that's all in AP :D) here, because we realize the need we all have for help, and we're all willing to give it.

You're not alone. We're all in this together (wtf, High School Musical? D8), and we're going to get out of this together. =]

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Top 10 Unfortunate/Interesting Names of People I Know

1. Zen Ren - I rhyme.
2. Esess, pronounced "S S" - who is dating a guy called Echo.
3. Cornelius - who is not white or nerdy.
4. Laquitanisha.
5. John Doe - he admits it'll be complicated if he dies mysteriously.
6. Teddy Xiong - his last name is Chinese for "Bear".
7. Da Dung.
8. Park Park - his Korean parents were a little confused when given a list of English names.
9. Mr. Major - who, in the Army, was a Sergeant. I just wish he was a Major.
10. Greg No Middle Name Hurston.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Pictures to prove my existence....

...though it's an interesting paradox to consider that, in some cultures, pictures take away a part of a person's soul. Or maybe it's the entire soul. I'm not entirely sure. I kind of envision it as a hand snatching a slice of pie shaped like a person.

Which make me wonder...if the pictures don't show up...does that mean I'm an empty shell of a person?

Which brings into question - if a person has gotten their picture taken enough times that they have no soul left, what happens if one more picture is taken?

That's the hot Cadet 2nd Lieutenant Emma B. (who took the picture) on the left, moi (also a Cadet 2nd Lieutenant) in the center, and Cadet 1st Lieutenant Geoffrey G. peeking out from behind.

I do not know the guy in the middle that's wearing a wifebeater, but trust me when I say that he had a really, really sweet bod.


Thursday, September 11, 2008

Of two tragic characters

You know, the tragic romance plays that women cry over with their boyfriends, who pretend to look bored while they're actually struggling to rein back a tear or two.

We have here character K, a boy. And we have character S, a girl. They might have had a relationship between them once, they might have not. But now K is disinterested, perhaps even a little hateful, and S is still in love with K.

K spurns her and pushes her away, ignoring her advances. S is upset, but still can't help the bright flare in her stomach whenever she sees him. In his presence, she is very aware of all her movements, and her words become lilting and measured. Beside him she wavers on a trembling tightrope, wondering what she looks like in his eyes. K does not pay any attention to her, and instead throws a rude comment.

But the examination here is not in the events, it is in those little flares, in the length of the tightrope.

S wants him to love her back. His words cut, cold as ice, and though she knows she should be hurt, she isn't. She can remember the grey-green of his eyes, the white directness of his words. They were for her. And it is this sole object, this sole idea that outweighs the meaning of those words, and they are gone from her mind, because he had turned to her. He had looked at her eyes, and parted his lips to speak.

It is hopeless love, of the maudlin "Where art thou?" type. And yet we follow along, feel the gasps in our mind as their tragedy continues.

But sometimes, K and S are not scripted characters on paper. Sometimes, they are real. Sometimes, they can be touched, and seen, and kissed.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Teenaged Idiots

So I was walking around my school today, lost again as I searched for my Physics class, when this happened:

RANDOM SENIOR: (taps me on the shoulder) Um, excuse me.
ME: Yes?
RS: (takes a deep breath) Will you - will you go out with me?
ME: (inwardly dies) Oh. Wow. I - I'm really sorry, but...I don't know who you are.
RS: I sit behind you in Chemistry.
ME: ...I don't take Chemistry...I take Physics. (runs away)

What scares me is that this guy likes a girl that he doesn't even quite know what she looks like, and then has enough nerve to try to ask her (me?) out. I was torn between laughing at him and weeping for mankind.

But apparently, there's a senior at my high school that looks peculiarly like me. I'm not surprised - in a building of about 8,000 juniors and seniors, there's bound to be a few people that look similar.

I just feel sorry for the guy now. XD

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Boobs, Tits, Breasts, Ta-Tas

Women and men are very similar in physical stature.

From behind, we look the same - assuming that we aren't using hair length to determine gender. Perhaps males will be a few inches taller than females - but otherwise, there's little visual difference that a person who isn't a doctor can discern.

From the front, however, there are a few obvious differences. Males have a few lower bits, and women have a few upper bits. And this post refers to the upper bits.

Aside from said upper bits (and perhaps happy trails as well), womens' torsos and mens' torsos are quite similar. It's just that women have two lumps of fatty flesh protruding from theirs'. In the end, that's really what they are - unless you have implants, in which case they are two lumps of plastic surrounded by fat stretched over them.

I'm sure that sounds extremely arousing.

Good heavens, they have little purpose except for, scientifically, making milk. Cultural-wise, their purpose is to make guys make odd squeezing gestures when a particularly large pair passes by, or to make Pamela Anderson famous. Additionally, they are a source of low self-esteem. Girls will look at themselves in the mirror and wish they have bigger ones. The ones who do have bigger ones wish they have smaller ones, because as enticing as a pair of bouncing mounds of fat are to guys, it's quite painful for women.

Get over it. They're breasts, big deal.

Monday, September 1, 2008

This happens much too often for my taste

P1: Hey, did you hear about John McCain choosing that Alaska governor for VP?
P2: I did! Isn't it crazy?
P1: I know!
Alaska? What the hell is he trying to do? I mean, it's such a stupid tactic. All the feminists will vote for him now, just because Palin's a woman.*
P2: Yeah, and McCain can't complain about Obama being inexperienced anymore. I mean, Palin's the
epitome of inexperience. She's seriously a risky choice.

Four hours later

P3: Hey, did you hear about John McCain choosing that Alaska governor for VP?
P2: Yeah, I did! Isn't it crazy?
P3: I know! I'm so excited - I mean, a woman for VP! I wasn't going to vote in this election, but now I totally am. It'd be so cool if I was part of a group that could break that glass ceiling, you know.
P2: Totally. And Palin's a really good candidate too - have you read about all her actions for reformations? The Republicans are lucky to have someone like her.


It's great and all if you don't want to politically offend the person you're talking to, but why this? Be honest and tactful. Don't, in Emerson's words, be a parrot of somebody else and agree with everything they say. It's disrespecting your own brain, and it shows that you no confidence in yourself to form your own thoughts that you can stand up with. Parroting somebody else makes you look like an imbecile.

Do what you wish politicians would do and start actually forming an opinion that you'll stick to.

*sidenote: P1 was a female. She said what she did because she thought that McCain was just trying to sway the numerous women who wouldn't take a glance into what Palin's views are, and would simply vote for the Republican ticket because there was a woman there. Sadly, I've seen evidence of this already happening.