Bellisario Must Change
"Enriched Print 'teacher' deficient teaching ability. Call for reevaluation"

Jan 15 - First year teacher, Mrs. Bellisario, 27 of who teaches the E. Print Media classes has time and again upset students with "unfair grading," and a hypocritical "to the letter teaching".

Furthermore... okay, forget this. I'm not gonna make a news report out of this--this needs to be addressed directly. Just to keep myself from getting into any trouble, I'd like to say that what's written here is all opinion, and that all I want is to share these thoughts.

I really don't know where to start, because I have a whole list of problems that I could go through. I'll just put them in bullet points, because I really don't feel like explicating this any more than I need to:

CONCLUSION

I am VERY seriously about the complaints I'm making here, and I KNOW that I'm not the only person with complaints against her. Mrs. Bellisario has been described by many as "not knowing how to teach". I'm going to have to add that (1) she does not know how to grade--she literally uses grades to "punish" lesser projects, and she does that HEAVILY; (2) she does not understand the needs of students--we are NOT paid news reporters in a corporate news studio--she can't give us deadlines and then expect us to deal with problems that crop up because of HER mistakes.

I understand that she has her own demands, but I cannot accept the way she presents them in such an inconsistent manner. If she won't understand our demands we WILL force change upon her. Myself and others plan to take this to the highest level.

Another Bad Week

Jan 18 - Oh well, so this week sucked too... Monday and Tuesday, we worked our asses off getting footage and stuff for the E. Print Newscast project, we turn it in on Wednesday, and get slapped in the face with a C...

Also, I horribly failed (in my opinion anything below a B is a failure, and I got a 68% so yea, its a failure) an APUSH test, and had to see the goat's face and hear her voice everyday...

My French teacher needs to have an attitude change. By some miracle, she let us have a party in class, and we were supposed to bring some French food (no drinks because she claimed it would make everything "sticky"). I found a block of French cheese in the fridge, so I brought it to school. I took it out a lunch to check it out, make sure it was edible. I opened it, and was faced immediately with this VILE smell, but then again, its cheese (FRENCH cheese) so I wasn't sure if it was really messed up or if it was SUPPOSED to smell like that.

Of course, taste it before I knew it was totally f*cked up. Haha, then phatman Jon comes along and is like "ooh ooh, cheese, i wanna eat it!" I told him it was messed up and he wouldn't want to eat it, but no... he had to smell it to believe me, despite my warnings.

Just before I threw it out, I checked the date. Manufactured 8/31/2002. Blah....

Then cheese-less I went to French class. There was a lot of food; cookies, crackers, chocolate mousse and other dry foods that'll desiccate you faster than Rice Krispies. Of course I was thirsty, but there weren't any drinks, so I ask if I can get a drink.

Bitch: No.
Me: Why not?
Bitch: No.

Of course, I'm just pissed. So I sulk around, thirsty. A couple other kids take out drinks that they brought to class for themselves. So I go back to her, and bring up that fact. And the Bitch says, "What part of 'no' don't you understand?" Hearing this, Lauren (?) says, "I have water" and takes out a little bottle of water from her bag. I thank her profusely and give the bitch (the teacher) an malevolent look. She's like "whatever".

What the hell is WRONG with her? She's on my list now, second only to the Goat.

All that crap, and then after school, the talks with the Goat fail. So I'm just thinking "forget it" and Kirk and I leave. Head off to NCTV to sign up for the Field Production class. Class is full. Sucks. The whole week sucks.

I'm done complaining here. Someone talk me out of this depression... 

Jan 29 - The French Bitch (already deep into "bitchy") has just gone from, Bitch to Superbitch. Why does life keep flinging me bad things? I thought (and hoped and prayed and begged to the scheduling gods) that the Drink Incident from 2 weeks ago was the last I'd see of her. The gods must have a sense of humor for putting me back in the damned class for another semester. And TODAY, she demonstrated the absolute antithesis of being a good teacher. What the hell is wrong with her? She's too old for PMS, seriously, what could it be? I'll speculate later, on to the story!

I get to class from annoying physics (at least there's a great teacher for that class) and plop down my materials, including an in-class worksheet from physics. Ok we were doing a simple homework check, I'm reading off of my notebook checking my work with my group (which is comprised of me, 2nd-gen ABC Heather, and all- too- nice Suz). Bitch comes around, giving us checks for completed homework--it's all good until she check's mine. After she checks my notebook, she points at the physics worksheet which was still on my desk.

Me: (picks up sheet, puts it in bag) Oh, I forgot to put that away.
Bitch: Well you better not forget next time, because you just lost participation points.
Me: What...?

Then she moves on, continuing her Bitch-streak. WTF is that? Taking off points because I have a piece of paper on my desk? Despite the fact that other people all over the class has excess material on their desks. The is definitely hates me--which isn't a problem because I have an A and I hate her too. (and she'd better take all the hate vibes I give her). I really didn't know what to say, so I just gave Bitch a mean look, and went back to correcting hw.

Oh yea, and then there was the HIGHLIGHT of the class. It was around the middle of the period, I'm somewhat recovered from my PO'ed-ness from earlier, and we're correcting each other's practice quizzes. All is well, and I finish correcting Heather's work. The Bitch is slow at changing the overhead sheets, so while waiting I look over what I had corrected--she had accent marks wrong in all of one section (which means she's going to have to copy the entire section over three times)--I give her a sort of "ah-that-sucks" look, mouthed the words, and made "eye-contact" (this is important). Then I looked across my desk at Suz's who is correcting mine. I notice I have a similar error on mine (my feelings of superiority dashed away). I mouthed a laugh of "oh well," and again make eye-contact. The Bitch comes over and says, "I want you to go outside and wait outside the door." Inside, I'm thinking, "okay, Bitch, how did I piss you off this time?", but I just walk outside and stand there. And stand there... she seems to have forgotten me, *scoff* like I cared. I was content with being out of her class and being able to watch the people walk by. I had a really nice time thinking of ways she could burn in hell and decided not to get actually care about this--it's not like I gave a damn about what she thought--as long as it didn't harm my grade, because that's all I care about now in her class. I actually liked learning French last year, but now, with this Bitch... no. I just want to learn, and get out of her class as soon as I can. So yea, I decided then and there, not to actually care about whatever she said unless it would affect my grade. Later, about 15 minutes or so later when I'm called back in, she says "see me after class". Again, I'm thinking to myself, "okay, whatever you want, Bitch.". The bell rings momentarily; after class:

Bitch: I don't like your behavior.
Me: Did I actually do anything?
Bitch: Yes you did. You were talking to the other people in your group.
Me: No I wasn't.
Bitch: Yes you were. You were moving your lips, and making eye contact. (she pauses as I give her a stupefied look). You communicated with two girls (as if gender was of significance) while I was teaching and you distracted me. 
Me: Wait, but if I'm communicating with them, aren't they communicating with me too? Why is it my fault? 
Bitch: (shakes head) You initiated the communication. You did that while you were in your last group, you're doing it now. If you keep doing this, I'm not going to let you sit with anyone. You're going to be sitting in the hall during my class.
Me: (at this point, I'm literally thinking 'f*ck you') ...okay...

And then I leave and head for math, absolutely astonished at the fact that she could get ANY worse.

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HER?! Was she just oppressed as a child and is paying us back? God, I feel sorry for any kids she might have--how the hell did she ever get married with that bitchyness? Does she suffer from domestic violence at home, again, projecting it on us?

Whatever the reason, she just gave me another reason to kick her ass. Any of you guys who has Strahl and think she's bad, you don't know the jack of it at all. Compared to Bitch, Strahl is amazing--I would sooo love to have her back.

Okay, whatever. I'm done for tonight. Oh yea, and my internet sucks--it's been off for three days, so I don't know when this'll get posted. Soon I hope. Adios!

Bloggers BLOGGERS EVERYWHERE!!!
About the growing trend in online logs...
(includes 2 excerpts)

Feb 26 - What is with the sudden surge in online web logs (also known as blogs)? What is the purpose of pouring one's thoughts out onto a place where everyone can see? I've gone through a bunch of blogs at Blogspot, Blogger, and Xanga (props for the weirdest name) and have seen a lot of things being done with them. It would appear that Christina Aguilera has her own Xanga, though I haven't verified this yet and on it, she has some minutely personal info, but otherwise is nothing but a publicity gag where she writes her daily occurrences. But even for more common people like myself, there are lots of things to write about--and despite the fact that online weblogs are open for practically anyone to see, blogs are surprisingly personal. And yea, once you start, you get attached to writing, as is evident by da majah flava's Xanga blog:

"i should be going to sleep, but instead, i'm doing this...gosh i'm such a xanga nerd lol"
-- and then there's me--I should be writing my critical essay summaries now....

Confiding in writing has always been a diversion from the harsh real world for a long time but only for a relatively small minority of people (like myself), but this surge of online web logs is new and different. Journals, diaries, and logs have generally been private and dealt with personal things generally kept private, but this isn't so in online logs. More people seem to be finding themselves in their reflective writing which I believe is a positive trend (or maybe it's just the publicity of weblogs that make it seem that way--I've been writing logs and journals since 2nd grade so its nothing new). Web logs lets these people discover an "online sounding board" to explore their thoughts.

Here's an excerpt from Huanginator's log:

"i'm also upset that i have to get mad at a good friend over something this trivial....yea...thanks xanga for letting me vent...once again my rage has subsided..."

There's another facet to online logs--the very "open to everyone"-ness of them. Maybe its the open-to-everyone nature itself that motivates people to write. I know that once in a while, I'd like to present my way of thinking in my own words (maybe THAT's why I'm writing this here...) -- and web logs are apparently the best way to do it.

Then there're the readers of web-logs. Who actually reads them? They aren't necessarily entertainment but they are stories--stories of people we know (or maybe don't know) told in their own words. I don't usually read Blogs, just because everyone has their own story, and they really aren't that interesting, or different from myself (i DID read Lucipherious's Diary entries until his site was taken down).  But sometimes I wish that certain people would keep their web logs, just so that I'd be able to understand some little thing about them--I'd be able to read that and realize that maybe something I did had some critical impact... or such. Haha, okay I'm done here--time for Gatsby critical essays. Keep writing them blogs!!!

The Hejab (Hijab?) Song
(unverified title)

This hijab,
This mark of piety,
Is an act of faith, a symbol,
For all the world to see

Mar 3 - I was introduced to this song/poem via Sabahat's profile and (though I'd rather not declare my ignorance) I'll honestly say that its not a view that I've really given much thought. I blame my lack of personal knowledge and understanding of the faith on my total lack of Muslim friends. I feel that I don't know nearly as much as I should--especially considering that over a fifth of the world is Islamic. Even now, Islam still feels like the "alien religion," -- I need to expand my knowledge of the faith..

This song/poem illustrates the cultural difficulties faced by women of the Islamic faith in Western culture--it really is an appeal to those who have yet to truly understand from inside of the faith.

CLICK HERE FOR FULL SONG/POEM

Dean Troubles: Part III - Flick

Mar 04 - I'm too busy right now to write up an article or log... so here's a chat transcript:

ReJoovenation: yo, i seriously almost got into trouble with the freshmen dean
Crouchingtigr45: why?
ReJoovenation: i f*kin flicked the guy off when he had is back turned, and then some other dean saw me
Crouchingtigr45: why'd you flick him of?
ReJoovenation: ok the guy like shouted at us for standing up on the stage
ReJoovenation: remember we wer up there when u went to track
Crouchingtigr45: oh yeah
ReJoovenation: so i did it when he had his back turned, then the junior dean saw me, told the guy
ReJoovenation: "youd better hope i dont wake up on the wrong side of the bed tomorrow, because if i do, im going to have you suspended" -- his exact words
Crouchingtigr45: so then what happened?
Crouchingtigr45: did he just leave
ReJoovenation: i just said "okay" and walked away
Crouchingtigr45: did he know your name?
ReJoovenation: i think i made uip a good lie but im pretty sure he didnt believe me
ReJoovenation: no he doesnt know my name
ReJoovenation: but deans, they have like.. perfect memory
Crouchingtigr45: what did you say?
Crouchingtigr45: what lie?
ReJoovenation: remember from last year -- the jabrony card incident
Crouchingtigr45: ya
ReJoovenation: the dean saw me in the hall and was like "i know you!'
ReJoovenation: freaky
ReJoovenation: i hate deans now
ReJoovenation: but im gonna get em on my side
Crouchingtigr45: ok what was your lie?
ReJoovenation: ok, our dean saw me from like all the way across the cafe
ReJoovenation: so when he asked me if i did, i just said i gave him a thumbs up--cuz i DO do that now and then 
ReJoovenation: i dunno if he believed me, but i think i put up a good enough face to make him have some doubts
Crouchingtigr45: were you scared?
ReJoovenation: no not really
ReJoovenation: im so reckless...

I was already in a bad mood before I did it... I seriously get really reckless and can do some really stupid things when I'm pissed. Of course--whether or not the dean should care is a different matter. I didn't really mean it in any violent way--but I mean... does he expect us not to be annoyed especially when he's shouting at us as if we did something seriously wrong? Does he not realize that people talk behind the backs of deans--because that's what he IS encouraging by making "examples". I don't have any problems with deans--and except for that incident last year, I really have a positive image of them. But sometimes, I think they get too caught up in "catching bad kids". I don't like how they are trying to find bad thinks, and capitalize on relatively little things to scare us into heeding them. Our deans definitely need to get into touch with the students. I dunno... Oh well. End of this log.

My annoyance at people sensitive to the term "Indian"

Mar 8 - I've recently have had a greater exposure to people who are extremely sensitive about calling Native Americans, "Indians". I understand this point of view, and I personally prefer to use the term "Native American". But however politically incorrect the term might be, it is a widely used name used to refer to Native Americans, complaining about it isn't going to change 400 years of habit. Just as the Sea of Japan isn't going to be renamed the East Sea overnight, the term Indian isn't going to vanish from the vocabulary.

And as this so, (for those especially dense people out there), when someone uses the word "Indian," don't automatically assume that they are talking about citizens of the Republic of India. This small subgroup of people who just fail to recognize that the term "Indian" is also, though a misnomer is used to refer to Native Americans.

One last thing--sorry to burst your egotistical bubble, but the word "Indian", didn't even originate in India. It was derived from the Medieval Latin word "indianus."

The State of the Site Address... (not really)

Mar 11 - Governor Blaglojevich is giving his first State of the State address tonight and with Angelex's first birthday coming up in less than a month, I think it's just about the right time for my first State of the Site address. So here I go!

A lot has changed since the inauguration of the Angelex project, which celebrates its first birthday in less than a month... OKAY toss that idea. I don't have time for this, so I'll just go on a rant--

Do I take pride in this creation? Of course I do! Does it make me feel better that people actually have been to it? Yea of course--I have things up here that otherwise would never have seen light (like the Art Tree). I guess, it's really like an online portfolio of sorts. And especially for a specific person at my lunch table, whom I won't name specifically, a website is a helluvalot better than your piece of crap XANGA (no offense to your fiery haired twin.), a pathetic excuse for a friend to talk to... "letting xanga vent my anger" how LOW can you get??

lol--I'm just kidding... (moron...) blogs are cool. Anyway, my point IS that having a website of my own is ALL  good--and I don't regret ANYTHING that I've done on here. It's an expression of creativity, design, a political window, and art gallery, a diary (blog) a bulletin board, just SO much into SO little, an online footprint of 14 megabytes that's theoretically accessible to all the world (ah!!! the idealism!!). You don't think its worth my 30 minutes a day? (And I'm not talking to a specific person here.) Just look at what you're doing online and then either tell me something that matters or (Bhav-speak) talk to the hand, cuz the face don't give a damn.

Flowery Language?

Mar 11 - I've got to get stated on the Gatsby essay so I'll make this quick. I've heard from quite a few people that I'm using too much "flowery" language on this site and my papers. Now, by "flowery", I'm assuming that they're talking about the professionalism and my varied word choice that I try to use throughout the pages. Supporters to this view say that I'm using words that nobody else uses and that I'm trying to put up an aura of superiority. I'll look that over, but for now, I'm wondering how much truth there is in that argument. First of all, what's wrong with using words that aren't quite in mainstream speaking English? I'm not trying to show off how much better I am in writing than you are--that really isn't what I'm trying to do (if you still think this, maybe you're just a little too egotistical and feel that you're being competed against--get over it). Maybe I just think that a certain word works better--I really don't see a need for me to have to change (in the Gatsby essay) "cannot distinguish from illusion and reality" to "can't tell the difference between what's real and what's not" as J suggested. But not just the essay--but on this site too, I don't think I'm going overboard by actually using some SAT words in the things I'm writing.

All I'm saying is that I don't think you're taking into consideration that this is WRITTEN work (usually), and outside of the Reflection section, I really am trying to be professional. But I'll keep what you said in mind. If that still doesn't satisfy you then at least believe that I'm studying for the SAT. Using words actually helps you learn.

Mar 11 - Just look at this article -- Congress shuns French-named food -- and just try not to tell me of this absurdity. I dare you to. French belittling is getting a bit out of hand -- from supposedly professional articles in the Trib, to Stan's belittling of the French military in the North Star, to our lunch room debates -- its all over the place. And maybe it's a little too far.

Seriously, I feel that I have to stand up for the underdog nation that is getting more than its share of blame. France is not opposing America--just the Bush Administration's policy towards Iraq, as do many others (myself included). Even in France, reasonable French don't have animosity towards American people or culture--so why should we against the French people or culture? France has been the longest and most consistent ally of America for over 200 years. There's been some weak French belittling for no good reason throughout history (and that's okay... it's only human), but when members of the government do so, especially in a public manner like this, it's kind of unsettling. Perhaps, like the British, Americans naturally dislike the French. PPL!! Get a grip! (Noteworthy is the fact that 11 million Americans are of French ancestry--about the population of Illinois.) The most absurd typical conversation I've been hearing is the example below the poll. This just goes to show how easily it is to be racist/anti-French -- almost as if people inherently have some undirected ill will and just need a little push to start hating. What we're forgetting to do is to distinguish between a nation's government and its people/culture -- and that can have dangerous consequences. These members of congress (MCs) aren't distinguishing the two by renaming French fries (which are actually from Belgium) to freedom fries. Al Qaeda terrorists didn't either when they attacked and killed American civilians because they didn't like the government. When my brother, 8, said he hated Afghans I was compelled to teach him some healthy discrimination between a nation's government and its people. Perhaps that lesson is one that we all need to learn. It's a really sad part of our culture, and I don't like it.

Our Yesman

Mar 30 - Yesman (yes-man)

n. a person who, regardless of actual attitude, always expresses agreement with his or her supervisor, superior, etc.; sycophant.

We pulled this mean trick on (our) Yesman last Friday. We decided that after seeing The Core that we would all say that the movie sucked. It really didn't, but we wanted to see the effect of our seemingly overwhelming opinion on Yesman. Haj was a dumb fool that didn't understand what we were doing and nearly ruined it. (paraphrased and names changed).

Zeke: OMG that movie sucked ass.
MM: Yea I hated it.
Haj: Yea, I thought it was good.
Zeke: (to Haj) Shut up. (to YES) So what did you think of the movie?
Yes: (nodding) It was pretty bad.
Everyone: (snickers unobtrusively)

And then, after leaving the theater, we then had a sudden reversal of opinion and decided to say that it was amazingly great, and see the effect on Yesman.

Zeke: No actually, I think I liked the movie. It was entertaining, and I enjoyed it.
MM: Yea I know, it was cool.
Bhav: (to Yes) What did you think of it?
Yes: I thought it was good. (indecisive--as if failing to understand the REAL opinion of the others) Umm... but it wasn't that good.

At this point, we all burst out in laughter at this obsequious display. Yes it was cruel, and we later apologized for it. But it was the funniest thing of the night. I just hope that someday, our yesman will realize that blind yesman-ish-ness isn't a good thing.

Apr 6 - Okay, I've just met the most messed up girls I've ever talked to online.  All right... lemme see... where to begin...

All right, this girl IM's me out of nowhere saying that she's my stalker. I thought it was funny at first so I played along... until she started getting weird. I asked her who she was, and she said she saw me at Priscilla's pizza event on Monday. She kept asking me if I figured out who she was.

puckerms07 (11:16:15 PM): do ya knoe who i am yet??
ReJoovenation (11:16:27 PM): do i know you?
puckerms07 (11:16:32 PM): yaa
puckerms07 (11:16:39 PM): dont ask me 4 my name its in mah info
puckerms07 (11:16:42 PM): yes u do no u dont
puckerms07 (11:16:46 PM): no u dont

Confused the hell out of me. I mean, if I don't know the person, how the hell am I supposed to figure out who she was? Doesn't make sense. Then they sent me sound files of themselves. The first one was just kinda dumb. The second one was just... I mean, what the hell? And then the third one... I was just thinking to myself, "wtf is wrong with these girls? -- they were obviously either drunk, high, messed up in the head, or some combination. -- or maybe they were just freshies" (OKAY now apparently these recordings aren't even of the ppl involved--whatever, I'm removing the links for the time being.)

ReJoovenation (10:56:55 PM): okay... now im officially freaked...
puckerms07 (10:57:29 PM): want a pic of me?

So she wanted to send me a pic. Okay... seemed innocent enough. I didn't think there was any harm in that. But no... she has to send pictures of this little kid, and this gay lookin' dude (might have been Elijah Wood -- I don't remember). I mean, I guess I could accept that they were just trying to have fun -- but... I dunno. I kept being nice to em, cuz I had already pissed her off earlier. I finally decide that the best thing to do is to get someone else to get 'em under control. I IMed someone else and told her to help me with these "freaks". She just copied and pasted what I said to her, into the stalkers' window. Kinda blunt if you ask me but it got the job done. That ruined their fun. They could take me calling them freaks, but not someone else.

puckerms07 (11:37:33 PM): nooo we're done with u
puckerms07 (11:37:35 PM): ur boring

I'm not even gonna bother justifying myself. I was tired, I had enough of their bullshit, and I was done. Of course, I never figured out who these people were. I could narrow it down to a small list girls. Whatever. Weirdos...

Hints of Phoniness

Apr 13 - Though I'm pretty sure that most people can tell when I'm being "phony," sometimes I wonder if I've gotten so good at it that they don't. Of course, I'm still wondering if it matters at all. I think I'm becoming too metacognitive. (If I'm actually thinking that, I definitely am.) Bah! I was gonna make a list of "signs of phoniness" but I'm out of ideas and just don't feel like doing it now. So bah.

A Promise

Apr 22 - An interesting chain of thoughts that my mind came up with at 11:24 PM.

Promise me one thing. Promise me that you'll always be real. I don't want to ever have to worry that you're being a phony. Say that you hate me if you mean it, never say you love me if you don't--say whatever the hell you want as long as you're being real. Don't worry about emotions, I know what they can do. And don't worry about saying what you want or mean, say what you feel. Don't think up ways to cook up your thoughts--pretend we're psychic, I have thoughts too, I can take them raw. Keep secrets if you want, just don't lie and make something up. I can understand you if you tell me, and I can understand if you don't. Don't make me into a fool.

You know, forget everything I just said--just please be real.

--Hmm... if I can find a different way to write this, this might make a nice poem... cool. (END OF ENTRY 11:34 PM -- I'm leaving--ACT tomorrow)

MY RANT BOX

May 3 - Ok, here I go... WTF am I doing... THAT'S it. I am TIRED of being nice to dumbasses, and helping out every single lost person out there. This is seriously making me unstable--if I slow down to think before I act/say something, I'm nice to people I hate (as opposed to blowing them away), accepting to people I can't stand (as opposed to insulting their ass out of my sight)... and you know what... I think the reason I'm annoyed at the whole damn world because I'm so open to everything--I try to see each person as an opportunity to better them and help them--

WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING?! No I don't--I could care less for some idiot walking down the hall. Yesterday I just felt like kicking this sophomore's ass cuz the dude looked my way (no I don't think I actually would have, but I had a moment of pissed-off- ness). Instabilities. Ok, you probably don't have a clue as to what I'm saying--that's perfectly fine--I don't either. Lemme think for a second. OK, I think that sophomore thing was an isolated incident. I really hate people that do that--maybe its just the Korean in me--YES that idiot "in-the-moment" dude that I got cursed with in the last five years of the last decade. I had no reason to be pissed at him besides the fact that he looked like a dumbass and seemed vulnerable--like... "oh, here's a thing to take my anger out at..." but what anger? I had no reason to be angry.. except maybe that J was being fruitcake and wasn't where he was supposed to be. Good thing that Kirk was there though, or I might have actually gotten the kid. Poor kid. I feel like apologizing to him--no reason for him to be scared or anything just because I'm pissed. Anyway, let's see, what was I trying to say this whole damn time... ok got it--about me. A bunch of key incidents/people--(if I were writing this in my real journal I'd put in names... dammit, why do the people that I'm pissed at have to be the people that I...ok, never mind). Like I said earlier (I think I did anyway) I can't stand stupid people/behavior. Like the blind Bush lovers. Like the blind America hater. Blind ANYTHING haters. The "oh I don't give a shit about myself, as long as whoever is happy"--I MEAN WHAT THE FRIGGIN HELL?! Ditto for those blind religious followers. Right now, in this mood, I feel like--oh God, someone stop me--I'm gonna spill out all these raw boiling thoughts...

You probably don't have the damnedest idea of what I'm trying to say. Okay, let's put it this way--I feel that every stupid person (no that's too mean... let's just say... "lost person") I meet, I have to help them. I won't put in names, put in your own. I have this innate urge to go out and slap some sense into them. Most people understand in the end, and I'm glad. But after a while, you begin to not care anymore--no, not care. Wrong wording--you begin to be desensitized--burned really. It's times like these that I just want to stop trying to help--when I start hating the people that I am helping... I'm really sorry, if whoever that I did that to is reading this (the funny thing is... you might not even know it). Like that sophomore in the hallway, I usually help those weaker looking kids. I want to help, I want them to be stronger/better. But after a while, there are so many of them that it just gets to me--frustrates me. You might think I'm immature--maybe I am--cuz I can't handle myself when I'm pissed. But I really can't take that much. That's why I never want to be a doctor. After seeing person after person come in needing my help, I'm gonna go crazy and go on some rampage. I can't go around trying to help every little person out there, I need to make a huge change in the world. But it feels so alone too... (wow that was random). Sometimes I do feel lonely. Sometimes I feel that by looking, and seeing so many problems in the world I'm precluding myself from being a part of it. Times like these--I just want to forget it all, and just jump into the fray. The world isn't perfect, it never will be perfect. Maybe I should stop trying to make it something it can never be.

Roar

May 4 - My pathetic attempt at a poem--a raw poem to tell my message to others. Who ever said I was a poet? But it's good enough for me. Just for me. And that's enough for now. 

I will not wait for success

to happen

I will not wait for chance

to appear

I will not be wait patiently

For a ready world

I WILL NOT live as second

The future is MINE! Mine to GRASP!

MINE to TAKE! MINE to MAKE

And NO ONE will stop me

May 4 - For the longest time, ever since I asked myself the question "what am I living for?", and, "What is my purpose in this world?", I've had this lingering feeling of depression. I asked myself a question that I didn't know how to answer other than by saying "I live so that I may find purpose." And that seemed good enough for me. It really is an important question to ask, and much of our lives are dedicated to answering it. It was like a treasure hunt; we all are searching for that ultimate reason to live, and once we find it, for many, it ultimately becomes something to die for. In movies it seems like the hero always has something to live for, and often, the hero in the end, dies for that very cause. But in the real world, that purpose is much less defined, but I think I've gotten a head start by asking it when I did five years ago. (Actually I was asked that question in a school survey.) Of course my twelve-year-old self had no idea of the significance of the question, and obviously had even less of an idea of what the answer could be. But of course, I had to answer it, and I answered it the best I could by saying "I live to succeed." That was a really vague answer--it was like saying, "I eat to live," but it did satisfy my teacher¹...

Many have found their purpose in religion. There are those who give their lives for religion, promote violence in their perverted view of religion...

TO BE COMPLETED AT A LATER DATE... I have ENALC homework to do...

¹Mr. Jo. I loved that guy. He was the only 6th grade teacher under 40 in our grade, and the only teacher that didn't smoke (everyone smokes in Korea). But besides his outwardly qualities, there were other things that made him one of my most influential teachers. He went beyond the academics of school (in Asia they say school is life, and by school they don't mean "fun") and tried to teach us a thing or two about character, and I was one of the few people that took him seriously. I had an immense amount of respect for him.

May 10 - 5:50 Okay, oh my god, a hilarious thing just happened. Let’s see, OK, after leaving our ENALC meeting, I realized that the fuel level in my car was dangerously low, but I still had to drop Jon and Rohit off before going home. I decided to drop Jon first then load up on gas, then drop Rohit off. So anyway, Rohit and I head off to Mobil, and I start filling up. While I’m pumping, I check to see how much money I have in my wallet to find that I only have $6 dollars. I glanced at the pump—it had just passed $8. I immediately stopped the pump; it stopped at $8.20.

My immediate thoughts, I can’t type (one of those seven bad words—specifically the one starting with ‘s’ and ending with ‘t’ and having a greeting in the middle). I had no other money, and I knew that Rohit was broke. I opened the front door, and empty my wallet onto the front seat. Yep, six bucks, and several coins—not much but critically closer. As I’m scrounging for coins in the front I told Rohit of our predicament. Patiently I search my car for whatever coins/bills I might have, and come up with several more coins, a worthless Canadian nickel, and a lot of pennies. All together, it comes to about $6.90. Still a dollar thirty short.

Rohit makes a few semi-anxious calls to Nick—who refuses to rescue us, and then to his Dad, who seems to be unable to help. So yea, he gets outta the car, and suggests that we try to coax some money out of some magnanimous bystanders. But before we could go forward with that plan, he to recognizes some fool in a 1979 VW Bug.
“Do you have a dollar we could borrow,” he asked, but the fool just replied, “no I need it.” Fool. All we needed was a dollar and a few more cents—and I didn’t want to ask the bystanders.

At this point the attendant lady came out, and reminded me that I had to pay. She seems to notice the issue at hand, and asks for me to come up with whatever money I had. So, I took my almost seven bucks to the… the place where they take your money. Inside, I put all the money that we could find on the counter, and she takes down my driver’s license numbers, to make sure I pay later.

“You’re gonna come back to pay right?” she asked. I said yes.

While she’s writing down the numbers, Rohit comes in with thirty more cents that he found under the seats of my car, bringing the total up to $7.20. Still a dollar short. The lady continues, but then the woman next to me (who had just bought a pack of cigs) hands me her change—a sum of 60¢.

Then other people started pitching money into the pile--probably thinking "poor little Asian kid." It's kinda sad though. The cashier had to have had hundreds of dollars in the register, plus more of her own money, but I had to depend on little bits and pieces from other customers.

The attendant lady seemed kind of annoyed, at having written all those numbers for nothing. “You can just throw that away now.”

Bah. Good neighbors, bad corporate workers.

Cultural Evolution

May 18 - Okay, while talking with JLee on AIM tonight, I've made the most amazing series of connections I've ever made in my life, bringing my dreams, religion, wants, even drugs together—connecting all the aspects of each with one another, and revealed a single thought process in my mind. This two and a half hour long, constant AIM conversation didn’t end there; we went on to pursue the ultimate meaning and purpose of religion; the purpose of the individual in the society, which revealed pretty much the very reason for living, not just why we were are living, but what we are living in this world for; and the past, present, and future of our culture. This extensive discussion went into and brought everything together, and in the end I was left feeling a greater, stronger sense of purpose and reason for being. 

Until this discussion, I didn’t know what I believed. I had a vague idea of what I wanted, and I definitely wasn’t conformist about it. I took fire from both Christianity and the anti-Christian other forces in order to defend what I thought was the right “interpretation”, but I myself didn’t know for sure what it was I was supporting. I just knew I was defending an ideal. I didn’t support the blind following of any religion, but I was always making clear that the details of a religion don’t make a difference. Anyway, it went on for a while, and then I actually became worried that we were “leaving the rest of the world behind” (will explain some other time). It is impossible to describe all that went on, and I really want to put it up for people to see, and understand. I've learned more about my personal beliefs than I have in all the years I've been able to debate religion. But I’m not going to put it up yet, because I don’t even know what I believe. I've always believed this, just that I've never really understood it—it was almost like “instinct”, but I never found out why…until tonight. For that, I’m glad more than I've been in a while that I suck at football (long story). Maybe someday, that revolutionary idea will be revealed, but until then…

If you are a junior and have not signed up for the June SAT II's, read on...

May 20 - HOLY SH*T, I just got out of the being MOST PANICKED I'VE EVER BEEN! I was clearing out my email spam, I was looking at the date on my computer, and then I was just reminded about the June SATs... THE SAT'S I NEVER SIGNED UP FOR! I don't know HOW this happened, but I was signing up online in late April, but I didn't have a credit card, so I decided I'd do it later. Only I didn't. I FORGOT about registering until twenty minutes ago. I was looking at the date, and then I remembered.

What words went through my mind at that moment, I can't type here, but I felt a slow panic building up. I went to the College Board website, hoping to God, but almost knowing that it was too late to sign up now. You guys might think this is a nerdy thing to get worried about, but you've got to understand; the SATs are the LIFEBLOOD of your college application, and I'm sure you know that the results of that can shape the rest of your life. High scores make it easier, but by no means easy to get accepted into a nice university. Low scores won't make it impossible, hard as hell to even get a college to look at your app.  Imagine what would happen if you had NO results. I knew for sure that the deadline had to have passed, but I held on to the slim hope that the late registration deadline was still available.

Well, like I said earlier, I felt like I had been shot to hell. May 14th was the final deadline. Not even a week ago. AND I MISSED IT! I seriously didn't know what to do. I went to the College Board website and tried to register again, but there were NO openings. At first I was like... "what the hell?" but then I remembered that I read somewhere that the June SAT's are the latest ones you can take junior year. Up until that point, I was just worried. That memory got me terrified. Several things really got me... in the biggest jumble of emotions since 1998. First was the fact that I had missed the deadline; that was bad. But the fact that I had missed it by so little... I mean, I felt that if I had just used my mom's card in April, my life would have been saved. But for now, I really didn't know what to do... and I panicked. I called up the College Board, I didn't even know what I was going to say--I guess to see if I could somehow register for the June SAT. I went through a bunch of automated messages in the end that didn't work--it was passed their business hours. I just needed some counseling, so I was going to talk to my counselor but there was NO way I was gonna wait until tomorrow. I am embarassed to say it but I was high off adrenaline; no joke. My ears tensed up, I felt a stronger beating in my chest, I was pumped... but that didn't make me feel any better. I NEEDED SOMETHING NOW!

I stormed out of my room, and just SWORE the dirtiest things I've ever said straight to the sky (good thing no one was home). I conveniently found a hockey stick on the floor and took out my frustrations on the cheapest looking bookshelf I could find. Whacked it a couple times, before I realized that I was doing serious damage, and got back from semi-insanity. Back in my room I sat down in my chair, but I couldn't sit still. I called up the College Board's other number, the one for their long distance people. This one actually would let me register for the SATs, but when I tried to do so for the June one, it simply said... "it is too late to sign up for this test". So I thought, "okay, I'll sign up for the next one," and tried the July one. Only there was no July one. Or an August one. The earliest one we could take was in October. The thing is, I want to apply early to college; from what I've heard, you have higher chances with early applications, but I was pretty sure that it wasn't that late. I knew that you had to start your app in SEPTEMBER,  so the October, and then a month long wait for scores... too late. It would be too late. I became desperate as I put the phone back down and my mind became more creative than it had in months as I tried to think of things I could do. (I seriously considered bribing someone into letting me take the test, but I couldn't find anyone that would matter). I knew I was on the verge of panicking again--felt like  I needed to just scream at fate, destroy my world--I was gonna call school for no damn reason; I was gonna call Haj but he was online (damn modem); I was gonna call 911...

I forced myself back down onto my seat so I could think. College--I knew it was coming but it still seemed like another world away. I thought of calling up Haj, but he was already online, and I didn't feel like explaining this on AIM. But I needed to talk to someone, even to someone online, so I IMed Bhav... and I let out all my frustrations, fears, and worries. The first thing I asked him was if he had signed up for the SAT IIs. When he said "not yet," I have to admit that I took the first step back from insanity since this the beginning of this. At least I wasn't alone in this mess. While talking online, I calmed down a little and began to search online. I really didn't know where to start so I went to the Northwestern University website to check out the admissions deadlines. And there... what I saw... was like... the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

The deadline was November 1st, so if it wasn't for what was directly below it, I might have gone completely into insanity. But right below it, it said (SAT, SAT IIs 3 minimum recommended--take test by OCTOBER)!!! You will not believe how POWERFUL of a sigh of relief I let out. I mean, seriously, my heart could have stopped for 10 seconds, and I wouldn't have even felt it. I mean, WOW, I'm calming down now, but I'm not gonna forget this for a LONG time... So I'm not doomed...

Anyway, if you feel like you've read the biggest load of crap ever, THANK GOD. Cuz I was scared sh*tless, and I don't need ppl talking about it! Oh well, I gotta do math hw now. WTYL!

Cynicism Overload

May 27 - I'm hungry, but at the same time, I don't really feel like eating. I'm in a thinking mood. A thinking/wishing mood, you know what I'm talking about? If I were to put a single word on our school's current junior class, I'd say that its cynical. Everything's just too damn cynical, pessimistic. But what can we do? It seems like the whole world is just cynical. Idealists keep finding themselves disappointed at the world, the world in all its cynicism is finding better things to do than care--which isn't too bad actually. I would hate it if everyone gave a crap about everything. I personally like to keep my distance from a lot of things, and I don't think I could stand a world filled with caring bubbly idealists. But sometimes, that cynicism ends up piling up a bit too high, a bit too heavy, and it takes a toll on hopeful ideals. Times like this, I just sit back (not because I like to; more so because I don't know what else to do) and think, maybe write about it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then stop reading; I'm not gonna explain what it's like; but I'm guessing that most of the people that read this understands. I'm not gonna get into specifics, but I'm sure that most people have been through cynicism overload. It gets me depressed, but I really don't know what would make it better...