I hereby give up on this nonsensical 30-day challenge. I have failed.
But I won't sit and wallow in my sadness for long....
I leave for Cameroon in T-minus 3 days! These past few weeks, I've done a complete 180 and have been cramming in as much French as possible. It was refreshing and exciting--I can't wait to practice when I get there. In terms of other preparation, I am really on top of things: I applied for my visa a week ago and got it on Friday. I just pulled some summer shorts out of the closet--and that's about as far as I've gotten in terms of packing. I'm not too worried--getting ready for big trips has become pretty second nature (that doesn't mean I won't bring the wrong things, but now I know that fretting over it beforehand won't change anything!). The one thing I can be sure of: large quantities of underwear are always a good thing.
And as blasphemous as I know this may be, I am thinking of re-naming the blog (big deal), as these adventures are no longer confined to the Americas! Creative minds are encouraged to share ideas.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Ridiculous
DAY 14 - talk about the cuteness of your pets
Wait, is this thing kidding?? I will just go ahead and state bluntly that I am not into having pets and would never on my own volition talk about their cuteness....
At the moment, however, I am living with two chubby cats who are probably a 6 and an 8 respectively on the cute scale. My mother also keeps a cocker spaniel on the premises who is only slightly cute when sleeping. Otherwise, it is barking at every dog/person in existence, snorting in anger, or actively taking the position of Favorite Child. We also have aquatic frogs--I will take credit for this one, which was a mail order gift when I turned 8--who are 10+ years old now and very slimy. Not cute. Not that they aren't really awesome.
I'm going to bet that no one was too interested in hearing about this one :).
Wait, is this thing kidding?? I will just go ahead and state bluntly that I am not into having pets and would never on my own volition talk about their cuteness....
At the moment, however, I am living with two chubby cats who are probably a 6 and an 8 respectively on the cute scale. My mother also keeps a cocker spaniel on the premises who is only slightly cute when sleeping. Otherwise, it is barking at every dog/person in existence, snorting in anger, or actively taking the position of Favorite Child. We also have aquatic frogs--I will take credit for this one, which was a mail order gift when I turned 8--who are 10+ years old now and very slimy. Not cute. Not that they aren't really awesome.
I'm going to bet that no one was too interested in hearing about this one :).
Your Me (Yes, it's Possessive!)
DAY 13 - how do you think others view you?
Some people might see me as extremely confident. They generally feel that way because I sing and act on stage, I am often a leader, and/or because I am generally open and comfortable with my sexuality and have been for a long time. Somehow people also got the idea that I am an excellent public speaker (which I will go ahead and tell you is not true at ALL, in my humble opinion...although that's not the question). In middle and high school, I tended to befriend people that were older than me. Whether a person sees one of these attributes or all of the above, they might see cockiness as well, as much as I wish it weren't true. But I actually might think I was a little conceited sometimes if I knew me. I usually don't take people's crap...which makes me a prime candidate for being accused of thinking I'm too good for something or that I'm judging people.
On the other hand, though, someone recently referred to me as "a public service energizer bunny." That's obviously an exaggeration, but I know a lot of people think I am extremely generous--which I'm not sure is the opposite of conceited, so I guess people could view me as both. They also think I am exceptionally smart. A lot of people had this image of me in their minds in high school where I was totally motivated to do well all the time, had perfect grades, and lived this goodie-two-shoes totally straight-edge lifestyle. People claim that I am super well-rounded and really good at everything. My friends--not my best friends, but good ones--said they thought I was the ideal college applicant. I think a lot of people are definitely under the impression that I achieve high.
As with most people, I'm pretty sure the spectrum is large. A lot of people think I'm tolerant, accepting, warm, and want to be everyone's friend. Some people say I'm distant and awkward. They think that I'm thinking about something/someone else when I'm with them, or that I overextend myself and don't focus. Some people could think all of these things.
Those who don't know me very well probably just see me as that girl who does a lot of things, raises money for stuff, and is most likely an activist for 239 different causes. Other words people might use to describe me: mature, worldly, driven, plain-looking (probably would go as far as unfashionable), super lame, funny, careful, trustworthy, loud, defiant, nervous. Depending on which friendship circle you're in, how I feel about you, what experiences we've had together.
This feels a little bit awkward, actually, but I am going to try to answer candidly. For better or for worse, the way others view me is really not the way that I view myself-- but I guess the way that someone actually IS depends on how the outside worlds views them, not how they view themselves. In any case, this is my best guess at what people who know me think.
Some people might see me as extremely confident. They generally feel that way because I sing and act on stage, I am often a leader, and/or because I am generally open and comfortable with my sexuality and have been for a long time. Somehow people also got the idea that I am an excellent public speaker (which I will go ahead and tell you is not true at ALL, in my humble opinion...although that's not the question). In middle and high school, I tended to befriend people that were older than me. Whether a person sees one of these attributes or all of the above, they might see cockiness as well, as much as I wish it weren't true. But I actually might think I was a little conceited sometimes if I knew me. I usually don't take people's crap...which makes me a prime candidate for being accused of thinking I'm too good for something or that I'm judging people.
On the other hand, though, someone recently referred to me as "a public service energizer bunny." That's obviously an exaggeration, but I know a lot of people think I am extremely generous--which I'm not sure is the opposite of conceited, so I guess people could view me as both. They also think I am exceptionally smart. A lot of people had this image of me in their minds in high school where I was totally motivated to do well all the time, had perfect grades, and lived this goodie-two-shoes totally straight-edge lifestyle. People claim that I am super well-rounded and really good at everything. My friends--not my best friends, but good ones--said they thought I was the ideal college applicant. I think a lot of people are definitely under the impression that I achieve high.
As with most people, I'm pretty sure the spectrum is large. A lot of people think I'm tolerant, accepting, warm, and want to be everyone's friend. Some people say I'm distant and awkward. They think that I'm thinking about something/someone else when I'm with them, or that I overextend myself and don't focus. Some people could think all of these things.
Those who don't know me very well probably just see me as that girl who does a lot of things, raises money for stuff, and is most likely an activist for 239 different causes. Other words people might use to describe me: mature, worldly, driven, plain-looking (probably would go as far as unfashionable), super lame, funny, careful, trustworthy, loud, defiant, nervous. Depending on which friendship circle you're in, how I feel about you, what experiences we've had together.
This feels a little bit awkward, actually, but I am going to try to answer candidly. For better or for worse, the way others view me is really not the way that I view myself-- but I guess the way that someone actually IS depends on how the outside worlds views them, not how they view themselves. In any case, this is my best guess at what people who know me think.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Look Out Below...?
Well...I am falling very behind schedule here. I think today was supposed to be day 19 and I have not even started writing for day 11. I got stuck last week...and I definitely couldn't skip around, as it would mess everything up. BUT I have changed my mind about keeping it all orderly like I had planned since I've already not written for a week...and it's hanging over my head almost like homework assignments used to! So, abolishing all rules for this challenge that I had made for myself, in order to get going again (I still intend to eventually complete them all), I will now kill two birds with one stone.
DAY 11 and 12 - share a story from your childhood AND explain how you got one of your scars
(I chose to combine these two days in order to avoid dealing with a prompt that seems to provide an excuse to tell some dark and twisted story and also because I found no inspiration in day 11...)
In elementary school, my parents had a pretty solid group of neighborhood friends (the mothers called themselves the YaYas...) who all had kids born in the 90s; we got together all the time for holiday parties, dinners, backyard picnics, playdates, etc. When I was in second grade, we were all hanging out at another neighbor's house (at the time, this family had daughters who were about 7, 5, and 3) playing in their yard on a new jungle gym. The jungle gym was located at the bottom of a small hill in their backyard, and looking up we could see the house's back porch. A friend yelled to us from the porch, so I hopped off the jungle gym swing to go talk to them from the ground and I looked up to see who was there.
Just as I did, a smooth rock the size of a potato came falling from the porch above and smacked me on the side of the face. I didn't cry, but I was furious! I thought somebody had thrown it at me on purpose, so, with a bleeding face, of course I ran inside to be a tattle tale. The group of moms took a look at me, promptly freaked out a little, and then did some investigating. Turns out it was my friend's 3-year-old sister who had dropped the rock...so I was pleased to find out that no one wanted me dead :).
This incident left me with a tiny scar right next to my left eye. It's not too noticeable, but at the time, I felt pretty badass going to second grade with my awesome battle wound. I am also proud to have had a pretty nice-sized rock dumped on me and not be blind/dented/cracked. It was definitely a close one, that's for sure....
DAY 11 and 12 - share a story from your childhood AND explain how you got one of your scars
(I chose to combine these two days in order to avoid dealing with a prompt that seems to provide an excuse to tell some dark and twisted story and also because I found no inspiration in day 11...)
In elementary school, my parents had a pretty solid group of neighborhood friends (the mothers called themselves the YaYas...) who all had kids born in the 90s; we got together all the time for holiday parties, dinners, backyard picnics, playdates, etc. When I was in second grade, we were all hanging out at another neighbor's house (at the time, this family had daughters who were about 7, 5, and 3) playing in their yard on a new jungle gym. The jungle gym was located at the bottom of a small hill in their backyard, and looking up we could see the house's back porch. A friend yelled to us from the porch, so I hopped off the jungle gym swing to go talk to them from the ground and I looked up to see who was there.
Just as I did, a smooth rock the size of a potato came falling from the porch above and smacked me on the side of the face. I didn't cry, but I was furious! I thought somebody had thrown it at me on purpose, so, with a bleeding face, of course I ran inside to be a tattle tale. The group of moms took a look at me, promptly freaked out a little, and then did some investigating. Turns out it was my friend's 3-year-old sister who had dropped the rock...so I was pleased to find out that no one wanted me dead :).
This incident left me with a tiny scar right next to my left eye. It's not too noticeable, but at the time, I felt pretty badass going to second grade with my awesome battle wound. I am also proud to have had a pretty nice-sized rock dumped on me and not be blind/dented/cracked. It was definitely a close one, that's for sure....
Friday, January 14, 2011
My No-Prep-Course Remorse
DAY 10 - talk about a regret you have
(a day late again...whoops...day 11 and 12 will hopefully come tomorrow!)
Definitely a little more involved than "your favorite movie." So as not to over share in a public space...let me talk about a sort of recent and fluffy regret.
Last year, I was generally the one to (secretly) judge people for completely freaking out about the college application process, for applying to 15 different schools and going crazy over which to choose, and especially for frantically comparing standardized test scores with other overachieving kids and guessing about whether or not their top choice would accept them based on that one number. Despite what a lot of other people thought--and despite what I was probably told--I was pretty convinced that the SAT was not going to be the deciding factor for the admissions committees when they saw my college application (for those of you that are not from the States, the SAT is the standardized test that the majority of American universities consider when they made admission decisions). In the middle of 11th grade (the second-to-last year of school before university, as long as I'm addressing the Europeans!), I took the test once just because I had to. A lot of kids took classes and practice tests to improve their scores, and I pretty stubbornly decided against it without thinking twice.
When I took the test for the first and last time, I did just okay compared to what I think I could have done. I did pretty miserably compared to other people with my GPA, for example. But I thought spending time and money on a prep course was a total waste when I could do things like...oh, I don't know...travel. Or be in a musical. Or do ANYTHING else that actually involved learning actual THINGS versus learning how to take a silly multiple-choice test. There are a lot of studies and surveys that question the validity of the SAT anyway. I just told myself that colleges would see beyond my "mediocre" scores if they really wanted me and consider what I hoped would be a very attractive application otherwise. I had really good grades in high school and was certainly involved in extracurriculars, I'd had paying jobs, I had done volunteer work, I was really proud of the essays I wrote, etc., etc. I convinced myself that the colleges would be thinking as I was--that I traded those extra SAT points for actual life experience, and they would see that. But, obviously, the test wouldn't exist if all college admissions committees thought that way, and of COURSE there are millions of other kids out there with great grades and tons of other qualifiers. I knew all of that and refused to really admit it.
I applied to 5 colleges--way fewer than many of my friends did. I considered two of them true safeties, two of them fairly close to matches for my grades/abilities/etc., and one of them a true reach school. But I was--and am--pretty sure that my reach school was not an impossible goal for me, realistically. I really felt like my interests, personality and intellect would be a perfect fit for the school, and I was so, so, SO proud of my application to that school especially, but I neglected one (obviously important) aspect. Needless to say, my acceptance/wait list/rejection letters came, and some of the news I received was different from the news I was expecting. I think I had the potential to get better results than I did. I'll never know what would have happened if I had just tried the SAT one more time, and I really regret that. I mean, maybe nothing would have been different, but I'll never know now!
I definitely don't regret the way my college decision played out--at least not yet. I obviously haven't actually started college, but UVA is a school with a lot of great options, a mostly good reputation nationally and internationally, as well as the most financially intelligent decision I could have made (had I been accepted to my top choice). It was my second choice anyway. Maybe I would have made this decision had I been given a choice between the two...but probably not. Maybe it's better this way, because I doubt I would have had the self-control to choose UVA, and I'll probably be equally happy at there than I would have been anywhere else. I still think I was right on principle by not freaking out over the standardized testing--the SAT is in no way a legitimate way of judging intelligence or aptitude in my mind. This is really the one time I have ever actively chosen to fight the system, as cowardly as that is, and I was kind of proud of finding the confidence in myself to do it even silently (so ridiculous). But I still regret limiting my own college decision options at the time by not just going with the flow.
(a day late again...whoops...day 11 and 12 will hopefully come tomorrow!)
Definitely a little more involved than "your favorite movie." So as not to over share in a public space...let me talk about a sort of recent and fluffy regret.
Last year, I was generally the one to (secretly) judge people for completely freaking out about the college application process, for applying to 15 different schools and going crazy over which to choose, and especially for frantically comparing standardized test scores with other overachieving kids and guessing about whether or not their top choice would accept them based on that one number. Despite what a lot of other people thought--and despite what I was probably told--I was pretty convinced that the SAT was not going to be the deciding factor for the admissions committees when they saw my college application (for those of you that are not from the States, the SAT is the standardized test that the majority of American universities consider when they made admission decisions). In the middle of 11th grade (the second-to-last year of school before university, as long as I'm addressing the Europeans!), I took the test once just because I had to. A lot of kids took classes and practice tests to improve their scores, and I pretty stubbornly decided against it without thinking twice.
When I took the test for the first and last time, I did just okay compared to what I think I could have done. I did pretty miserably compared to other people with my GPA, for example. But I thought spending time and money on a prep course was a total waste when I could do things like...oh, I don't know...travel. Or be in a musical. Or do ANYTHING else that actually involved learning actual THINGS versus learning how to take a silly multiple-choice test. There are a lot of studies and surveys that question the validity of the SAT anyway. I just told myself that colleges would see beyond my "mediocre" scores if they really wanted me and consider what I hoped would be a very attractive application otherwise. I had really good grades in high school and was certainly involved in extracurriculars, I'd had paying jobs, I had done volunteer work, I was really proud of the essays I wrote, etc., etc. I convinced myself that the colleges would be thinking as I was--that I traded those extra SAT points for actual life experience, and they would see that. But, obviously, the test wouldn't exist if all college admissions committees thought that way, and of COURSE there are millions of other kids out there with great grades and tons of other qualifiers. I knew all of that and refused to really admit it.
I applied to 5 colleges--way fewer than many of my friends did. I considered two of them true safeties, two of them fairly close to matches for my grades/abilities/etc., and one of them a true reach school. But I was--and am--pretty sure that my reach school was not an impossible goal for me, realistically. I really felt like my interests, personality and intellect would be a perfect fit for the school, and I was so, so, SO proud of my application to that school especially, but I neglected one (obviously important) aspect. Needless to say, my acceptance/wait list/rejection letters came, and some of the news I received was different from the news I was expecting. I think I had the potential to get better results than I did. I'll never know what would have happened if I had just tried the SAT one more time, and I really regret that. I mean, maybe nothing would have been different, but I'll never know now!
I definitely don't regret the way my college decision played out--at least not yet. I obviously haven't actually started college, but UVA is a school with a lot of great options, a mostly good reputation nationally and internationally, as well as the most financially intelligent decision I could have made (had I been accepted to my top choice). It was my second choice anyway. Maybe I would have made this decision had I been given a choice between the two...but probably not. Maybe it's better this way, because I doubt I would have had the self-control to choose UVA, and I'll probably be equally happy at there than I would have been anywhere else. I still think I was right on principle by not freaking out over the standardized testing--the SAT is in no way a legitimate way of judging intelligence or aptitude in my mind. This is really the one time I have ever actively chosen to fight the system, as cowardly as that is, and I was kind of proud of finding the confidence in myself to do it even silently (so ridiculous). But I still regret limiting my own college decision options at the time by not just going with the flow.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Synchronized at Sunset
DAY 09 - a photo you took
This picture is accompanied by a really peaceful memory. As the sun set on the beach in Canoa, Ecuador this September, I and my friend Katie sat in the sand watching native fishermen, families, friends, and animals come and go. The weather wasn't perfect--a little windy--but it still felt like paradise to me. The pelicans put on a show for us that evening, dancing in the air and diving into the sea.
(It was the first time I'd had my new camera out in public, and snapping dozens of photos made me feel very important and professional. :P)
The "Mommy's Choice" Look
DAY 08 - describe the style you had 10 years ago
(another day-late post)
Seeing 8- and 9-year-old girls today literally makes my jaw drop because a lot of them dress like stylish college kids. I don't exactly remember what the 20-somethings were wearing a decade ago, but I can assure you that I was not wearing the same thing. I will now discuss my lack of style ten years ago.
One aspect of my wardrobe that I very remember is several pairs of legging-like cotton pants in various patterns, colors, etc. with elastic waistbands. At my elementary school, we tucked in our shirts every day so that we weren't distracted from all that learning we were doing by our sloppy clothing ("look your best to do your best")...and I wore cotton pants. Needless to say, I generally looked great. I didn't wear jeans very much (too stylish), but I do remember wearing an embroidered denim skirt with a matching denim vest for picture day.
Ten years ago, I had very short hair. For this reason, everyone told me I looked like Shirley Temple (in hindsight, I'm pretty sure that was never true). My hair length was the only part of my "style" those that was not invented by my mom. Not that I really have a distinct style now, but I'm not wearing denim on the top and bottom, that's for sure. At least I had clothes on, I guess!
(another day-late post)
Seeing 8- and 9-year-old girls today literally makes my jaw drop because a lot of them dress like stylish college kids. I don't exactly remember what the 20-somethings were wearing a decade ago, but I can assure you that I was not wearing the same thing. I will now discuss my lack of style ten years ago.
One aspect of my wardrobe that I very remember is several pairs of legging-like cotton pants in various patterns, colors, etc. with elastic waistbands. At my elementary school, we tucked in our shirts every day so that we weren't distracted from all that learning we were doing by our sloppy clothing ("look your best to do your best")...and I wore cotton pants. Needless to say, I generally looked great. I didn't wear jeans very much (too stylish), but I do remember wearing an embroidered denim skirt with a matching denim vest for picture day.
Ten years ago, I had very short hair. For this reason, everyone told me I looked like Shirley Temple (in hindsight, I'm pretty sure that was never true). My hair length was the only part of my "style" those that was not invented by my mom. Not that I really have a distinct style now, but I'm not wearing denim on the top and bottom, that's for sure. At least I had clothes on, I guess!
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