Haunted by the Marines

When I took the PSAT test in October, I filled in a bubble saying that I wanted the College Board to send my scores to colleges and summer programs and other such things. I did not realize what I was getting myself into. Starting in February, I have been bombarded with letters and advertisements from all kinds of colleges--famous and obscure. They all claimed to be one of the best colleges in the country, all had vibrant campuses and unparalleled facilities (I don't see how every college can be the best, so I realize that many of them are probably lying). I have also received many invitations to summer programs, and it is from this that I found out about the Columbia one which I will attend this summer. For the most part, the college-notification thing was useful. But in life, we always have trade-offs. In my case, I am now haunted by the Marines.

Yes, among the invitations and letters, I found an invitation to join the Marines. They advertised themselves as "The Few, The Proud" and offered to send free Marine gear. Upon seeing this, I joked that maybe the free Marine gear was my uniform; yes, it would be free, but then I would have no choice but to join the Marines. Being a Marine not exactly being one of my ambitions, I put the advertisement aside, mildly amused. Little did I know how desperate the Marines were to recruit me.

A few weeks later, I received another similar join-the-Marines advertisement, as if they thought I hadn't gotten the first one and needed a new copy. Next, they sent me the official Marines Corp magazine, Hooah (no, I did not forget to put an "r" in the middle, it was actually called "hooah"). Another time, I received an American flag in the mail, with the join-the-Marines message. It was peer pressure; if you want to be patriotic, you have to join the Marines. Suddenly, Marines recruitment advertisements were everywhere. When I went to see Iron Man last weekend, the coming attractions were interrupted by a Marines recruitment advertisement, with soldiers wearing spiffy uniforms, spinning fancy guns like batons. So today, when my father came to me sneakily with a card in his hand, quoting my aunt when she used to chase me around the swimming pool scaring me with a floatable toy duck, "I looooove you, Philip. I want to eeeaaaat you Philip" (that toy duck was once found destroyed at the side of the swimming pool. I leave it to you to wonder why) I knew that it was the Marines. And sure enough, it was: Marines required summer reading. I'm haunted!

-Philip

Be Careful About Job Descriptions

Today, my crazy Spanish teacher was telling us about the oral portion (la parte oral) of our final exams.  We will have to perform a ten-minute conversation with none other than the teacher herself (this, I must tell you, is something to fear).  Anyway, when she was describing how the testing would work, she slipped into English, something that she rarely does.  At one point, she said, "...your appointment in my office where I will orally examine you."  She then paused and commented, dryly, "I'm not really a dentist, I just play the part on TV."  

-Philip

Better with Age

As teenagers, many of us get told over and over the dangers of the internet. There are sketchy people! Sketch! I tell you! On the internet! (There are sketchy people everywhere. Believe me. It's like the Law of Sketch.) We listen year after year to presentations being made at schools about the mask the internet provides. (I once saw this presentation where a forty something year old man was telling us about how he pretends to be a young girl, like for fun or something since this isn't even part of his job or anything, and attracts perverts. Like, goes to chatrooms and has sketchy conversations just so he can turn them in. Err. Okaaay.) "If some stranger asks you to have sex with them, DON'T DO IT!" Err, this applies not just to the internet I would hope. If one is sensible enough, this usually does not present a problem, and can also generate a lot of humor depending on the circumstance. The following tale is a rather amusing anecdote on how entertaining not being able to see who you are talking to can be.

I frequent a message board somewhere on the vast interwebs, some of you may know of it or hear me talk about it from time to time. The message board is by and large populated by teenage girls. One particularly new member, who we will call Susie, had been causing quite a stir with recent comments, but we can all forgive her because we remember what it was like to be a thirteen year old girl new to a message board and just how naïve we can be. One of our older members, who we will call Mark, is a married man in his fifties, who is thankfully not the kind of sketchy internet person they warn you about in school, except for the fact that he is middle aged and a man, he is really quite innocent and loves to joke around.

There was a particular thread going on asking about what people's "types" were, as in, what kind of guy or girl do you usually crush on. Mark responds to the post, commenting on how he had in his life dated people of all different appearances but he tended to attract a lot of introverts. Susie sees the post and replies, "Neat I've been thinking I'm an introvert. Can we date? *instantly regrets saying this and wonders how old he is*" On another thread about our effect on other people, she replies "You've changed me. I want to date you. How old are you? *snogs picture of him*" As you can imagine this got a lot of laughs, and a patient explanation or two that Mark was married and way too old for her, and that really, asking random strangers on the internet to date was not a good idea.

(Note: Susie later claims this was all a joke. Regardless, I let the tale stand as is.)


Sachi

An (Awkward) Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

You know, so far we've all my describing our awkward moments for you lovely (and hopefully actually exsistent?) readers, but I'm feeling particularly generous today and actually showing some of my most awkward Facebook pictures. By the way, in case anyone was wondering, there are 48 awkward pictures that are still tagged of me on Facebook. Dozens more that I untagged.



Let's start with the classic accidental flashing. Tabloid material, most definitely.




This is when I commented on how I was wearing a high-necked dress so prevent more cleavage pictures. As you can see, it didn't work.



Me, sleeping in an airport.



Me, waking up in an airport, after somebody BLEW in my face, then snapped a picture as I woke up screaming.



I came, I saw, I tried to make an angry face, I failed miserably.



...I honestly don't know what to say about this one.



Bright side? I'm not the only awkward one in this picture.



Oh yes, I'm so G. Yo.



Basically, my feelings after sharing these lovely pictures.



<3 Helen

It could only have happened in my English class...

My English teacher has a knack for making puns. Especially puns derived from students' names. For example, he sometimes calls a student named Andrew Norcross "Conjunction" because he has two conjunctions in his name (and, nor). Another student, Will Saultus, has often had attempts at puns made out of his name, since it suggests assaulting. However, the pun had never been complete until today, when another student asked what his middle name was. "Anthony," he replied. "Here, we've got it," said the clever student with a grin. "Will A. Saultus!"

P.S. Just think about how lucky we are to have one sixth of next year's SFA represented on our blog (I am refering to Jared and myself--we were both elected this week). So if you ever have any suggestions about school policy, just notify one of us.

-Philip

English is a Difficult Language

In my study hall today, after a while nobody was doing anything and people were just talking. When I started listening to the conversation going on (that was rapidly including the entire class), this is what I heard:

"I say sur-rup. If I could spell it, I would spell it "S-U-R-U-P" (Instead of syrup) "And I also say meh-ricle. Miricle sounds so strange! Why would anyone say "meer-icle"?
"It's pronounced "meer-icle". Nobody says "mericle."
My study hall teacher asks her where she's from, with this weird accent. "Massachusetts," she responds. "But didn't you move here?" "Yes. From Needham."
A little later, someone insists to her that the plural of fish is fish.
"No. It's fishes. In Spanish the plural of pez (fish) is peces!"
"But that's a different language! I bet the Spanish word for moose has an "es" on the end when it's plural too--that doesn't make it true in English."
"But the plural of moose is mooses!"
"Isn't it meese?"
"Just like the plural of "goose" is gooses or geese--"
"Gooses isn't a word!"
"...The plural of "moose" is mooses or meese."
"No--the plural of moose is moose."
"I thought it was meese!"
"No it's moose. Like reindeer. The plural of reindeer is reindeer."
"No. It's definately reindeers!" Half the room agrees, half the room disagrees.
"In 'Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer', it goes, 'all of the other reindeers'!"
"No. It's 'all of the other reindeer'."
"You mean Santa taught me the song wrong?"
"Your mom taught you the song wrong."
"Why are you bringing my mom into this??"
The teacher tells them that it is "deer" not "deers", but some kids still don't beleive it.
Again talking about the girl who started the conversation's strange pronunciations, someone said, "You're never going to convince her."
"So she's going to say things like this all her life? On her college application she's going to write "fishies"...


-Rebecca

AIMing for Awkward

So, let's talk awkward IM conversations. I don't know, but something about the not face-to-faceness coupled with the *instantness* makes people say some seriously strange things. Here's a snippet.

Marc: I've always been hesitant about epileptic people and seizures and bjs. Like...myoclonic seizures, where your whole body tenses up. Like... those sheep that play dead.
Me: So, if somebody actually *did* bite off a guys penis...
Marc: That would suck
Me: Do you like, spit out the piece?
Marc: I dunno
Me: Swallow it? Oh ewwww
Marc: haha
Me: haha chew?

And I wonder why most people don't come back to talk to me...

<3 Helen

"The key to change is to let go of fear"

Last Thursday was a crazy day for me, I started my day at 7AM getting ready for school, and with me I brought all of my dance paraphernalia (make-up, costume, tap shoes etc.) plus what I needed for an orchestra rehearsal and concert (black clothes, violin, music, etc.) It barely fit in the tote bag I tried to stuff it in. It was also a day that required a lot of changing outfits, something that has great potential to be awkward. We be ourselves didn't miss a minute of the awkward.

First was the dance dress rehearsal. We arrived at the school we were using for rehearsal space and were directed to go find the music room to change in. Err, okay? We found a few rooms with people changing but they were all little kids. Like, four and five year olds. With their fathers. Changing. Yeah, not going to work, thanks. We did eventually find a bathroom to change in.

Our last change of the night was the other awkward one. This time my friend, who we can call Sally, needed to change from her orchestra clothes to her street clothes. Sally was too lazy to go upstairs into the girls' bathroom, and the one on the first floor was being occupied by theatre kids. After a bit of deliberating we decide to try the string room. The string room is a small square room that is filled with instruments, where most of the orchestra kids store their instruments. It's rather sketchy. Sometimes I will go in there and find people in the midst of a music lesson. It's also a good place to make out or something if one needed a private space. It's about twenty minutes after the show so we figure everyone has left and it's safe to change. The door doesn't lock, so Sally, a friend and I are just standing there as Sally quickly changes pants and shirts. As she's zippering her pants the doorknob turns and the door opens. Oh crap. Hurry! I'm thinking. In walks our conductor. Cue mad gigglefit out of embarrassment. "Oh I didn't know anyone would be in here, much less changing," he remarks surprised, and leaves the room, the door closing behind him. Smoooth.


Sachi

Return of the Jedi Blogger!

So I've been kind of AWOL from this for the last month or so... miss me? Of course you did, who wouldn't?

Anyway, I go to this math class every Wednesday. And it's in this building with lots of other offices, like dental offices, counseling, accounting, etc, etc. Last week, there was this really random music coming out of nowhere. Like, it sounded EXACTLY like the opening song to the Lion King. You know the one, where they go AHHHYAHANGYAAAAA? Mhm, three hours, non-stop, of listening to... I don't even know how to describe it. So my entire class had conversations about exactly what type of music it was. First it was country, then Mexican, then Indian. Towards the end, people ran out of the classroom in search of the elusive source of the music. We thought it was coming from the left, then right, then upstairs, and outside. It wasn't, from any of them. Strange.

And you know how I've mentioned before how the bus is like, an epicenter of awkward for me? Well I think the range extended to the street where all the busses park for my school now. See, I was just innocently hurrying along, trying to not miss my bus for once, and I cut in front of this other kid trying to get onto a different bus.

We collided. It wasn't pretty.

Then we did the awkward shuffle, you know, when I go one way and he goes the same way? Eek.

Now this story's from a while ago. I was in Boston again with Sachi doing a photo project (and you know, just from that sentence, that this is going to be bad) when we started on the topic of debating with her. Now, I don't know if you know this, but Sachi is SCARY when it comes to those deeply... deep conversations. So I went "You know, you like, draw people in and FORCE them to argue. It's like drugs! Like, first time's free!"

<3 Helen

My Style Can't Be Duplicated or Recycled

Ah, dance. The province of so much awkwardness for so many people. Like dance costumes. They are always too short. And not like an inch too short or something. More like a foot shorter than you would like it to be. I take tap and my tap class had a recital last weekend. Our costumes, while some of the cuter costumes in the lot, were no exception to the rule. They were made of bright greenish blue stretchy skin tight material with sparkles everywhere, had collars and low necklines, black bows, a small belt and went down inches above the knee. They also did not have backs, which is the main plot of this entry. There are five of us girls in my dance class, the bloggers Rebecca and Marena among them, and one guy. As the recital drew nearer and nearer, we realized that we had to figure out what we were wearing under our dresses as far as undergarments went. We discussed our options—stick on bra-like things were voted out quickly, along with strange ones that had giant full body harnesses no one could make sense of. In the end we reached a compromise, and found some with clear plastic backs. We took measurements and ordered them. A week later the "support", as the director of the dance studio politely referred to it, had arrived. She passed them out to each of us girls at the end of dance one day, and as she was pulling a sixth one out of the bag she found she had no one to hand it to. We looked around. "No, there's only the five of us," we assured her. "Huh, I must've gotten a bra for P.," she muses, talking about the one guy in our class. Annie grabs it, "I'll go give it to him," she says, and searches for the poor unsuspecting guy. A few minutes later P. comes running in, distraught. "I don't want to wear a bra!" He blurts out to the director, completely serious. I, for one, could not stop laughing.


Sachi

One pinkish balloon, floating in a Mid-May sky...

Thursday. D block. Long block English.
We're sitting in the room, having a discussion about Lord of the Flies. It's a pretty good discussion, but...one's attention starts to drift around the 45 minute mark.
I sit across the room from the window, so I let my gaze drift outward, as, apparently, a lot of other people did, for all of a sudden I see a lazily floating object and I hear "BALLOON!!"
Everyone hops up from their seats, and, lo and behold, a balloon drifts slowly back and forth in front of the window, slowing rising upwards.
Out of nowhere.
Right in front of the window.
IT took about 5 minutes to get the class back under control.
That totally made my day.
What does that say about the public education system?
Yes. Think about that.

-Marena

what's an inverted twinkie...?

A conversation from yesterday, during math class:

First friend (A): *Talks about how she doesn't want to get an A- in math*
Second friend (B): hhaha, you're like an Asian wannabe!
Me: hhahaha A is an inverted twinkie!
A: *not Asian and therefore doesn't know what a twinkie is* huh?
B: hhahah. So she's a....buttercream pie?

Twinkie = slang for someone who is Asian on the ouside, but Amercain on the inside, Asian stereotypes, used mainly for jokes though.

After writing this, I realized that this probably isn't the most PC post, but whatever.

~'Cilla

My Odd Psychological Problem

In my English class, we are reading different books in groups... And one of the groups is reading Farenheit 451. I've read it before, but I don't remember very much about it. Somehow, I heard mention of mechanical hounds in English class, and I suddenly remembered that in that book there were these really creepy mechanical hounds--but I don't remember what it was they did that was so scary. I actually remember that I purposely blocked the memory, and now I'm curious to know what it was. Of course, if I find out, I will want to forget again. It's quite odd actually. Is ignorance bliss? Or should I ask someone who has read it....

-Rebecca

P.S. Everybody's got to post more! (Please)

Testing...1-2-3-4...Testing

When you have to take a long, tiring standardized test, sometimes it can be fun to look for amusing directions or warnings. I took the AP Chemistry test this morning, and noticed some funny things including (not quite verbatim, but to the best of my memory):

Schools in Alaska must start testing between 7 and 8 am.

If you are offered this test at any other time or any other day than written above, you must refuse to take this test and contact the Office of Testing Integrity.

If any of you have funny standardized test stories, I encourage you to post comments.

-Philip

Once in a Blue Wednesday

For the majority of you, who don't know what a Blue Wednesday is, it's when the second Wednesday of the month, Wishy-Washy Wednesday, is not the week after Thank You Thursday beacause Thank You Thursday fell on the first of the month. Yesterday was a Blue Wednesday, and even though these stories didn't occur on a Blue Wednesday, things like this happen once in a Blue Wednesday (which is to say, much more common than once in a Blue Moon).

Before class started, someone said something about how much money some movie made from ticket sales, and my physics teacher asked, "How much did it cost to make the movie?" A girl responded, "Nothing. Energy is free." A momentary pause and she added, "They powered it with people running on treadmills." Of course, being a physics teacher, my physics teacher asked, "And where did the people get their energy?" The girl replied, "They went into the sugar mines and licked up the sugar." Everybody was staring at her. "And they had magic unicorns!" she added. "Who granted wishes!"

"My computer isn't working," complained my fun-loving health teacher.
"Maybe if you were nice to it, it would be nice to you," suggested a student.
She picked up the laptop, cuddled it and kissed it, and said, "I hugged and kissed my computer. That ought to make it work." Just for good measure, she hugged it again, and then put it down and opened it up. "It's working!" she exclaimed. "Except..." I wasn't really paying attention for a second, then someone asked her a question and she responded "Quiet, I'm concentrating. We're becoming one." She was trying to mentally communicate with the laptop, and when finished, said, "I just said some really nice things to my laptop. I hope it works now." She tried it, and it worked.
"You're a genius," she said to the kid who suggested the solution. "You should be one of those Geek Squad computer fixing people."

-Rebecca

Ay, Carramba!

Among the things that my crazy Spanish teacher has made us do, the most ambitious yet is our soap opera project. Yes, my Spanish teacher is making us film soap operas in groups of five, in Spanish and in Spanish-style, of course. We met today to start filming, and as expected, things did not go perfectly smoothly. First of all, not everyone in our groop arrived, and we needed an audience of environmentalists in the background. The person whose house we were filming in had a brother, whose friend was visiting, so we made them participate. But when the brother's friend had to leave, we were in a crisis again, so I called my sister, Rebecca, to come and help. She was very cooperative and helpful, and I must thank her and the other person's brother for all of their help. But anyway, funny things kept happening when we were filming. At one point, the audience members had to mutter the Spanish word for "environment" repeatedly in the background, and we couldn't stop laughing as we did take after take. Then, there was the part when I had to come in as a lecturer about nuclear energy, and the audience was supposed to yell at me at specified pauses. To do this, I was supposed to raise a compact flourescent lightbulb, and then they would say, "Boo" and "no" and such. However, sometimes there would be awkward pauses when nobody knew what to do, and sometimes the booing would come out funny. For whatever reason, we kept laughing uncontrollably, sometimes in the middle of a take! But the funniest part was when everyone was supposed to throw garbage at me (environmentalists can get pretty violent when they have a cause) and I was supposed to run off stage. Except that when I grabbed the door knob to barge out, my hands were slippery and the door knob wasn't smooth. I fiddled with the knob, twisting it and turning it in my hands, desperately trying to get out, WHILE THE CAMERA WAS STILL FILMING! When I finally got it open, we all laughed, and did another take. But I'm sure that we will have some good bloopers.

-Philip

It All Ends With a Bang (and a few Clangs)

So actually I'm posting a short little awkward moment without any terrible consequences, but Sachi insists that I post (at least) once a month. So here I am, writing my May supplement.

Anyway, as most people do, I put my belongings that I deem unecessary in my locker. My locker is in deep deep red; that is the last row of lockers in red on Main Street -- very unfortunate. So it was about half an hour after school and Main Street is (somewhat) clear, I sling off my shiny, baby blue lock. Alas, the smooth metal slips from my grasp, and lands with a deafening bang on the orange bottom of my locker (discolored from the supposed red). It lands and rolls over with a few more metal clangs, resounding throughout a relatively quiet Main Street. I retrieve my lock and scramble away. Whoops.

-Jared

'Tis the Season when Juniors Go Crazy

Ah, May. The month of beautiful weather and also lots of rain, flowers and greenery, allergies, and standardized tests. Of course, Freshmen think they know what it's like to take standardized tests, but THEY DON'T. Now, I know you will say that you've taken the MCAS every year since fourth grade, and that the MCAS is annoying. But that's all it is. Just annoying. Perhaps you have considered the fact that they give you unlimited time to do the MCAS, that everything is easy, albeit tedious. Perhaps you have scorned the MCAS people, thinking that they underestimate students' intelligence. But don't complain too much about the MCAS, you naive freshmen, until you know what we juniors have to go through.

First, there is the SAT. Now, I was smart and took it in March, but most people have to take it this Saturday. It so happens that May is also the month in which all AP tests take place. All of these College Board tests are meant to filter out the few smart people from the mediocre masses. Whereas the MCAS gives you twice as much time as you need, and offers you more if you ask for it, the SAT and the AP tests want to make it hard to finish on time. Plus, the questions are actually meant to be difficult, and often misleading. And the AP tests want you to remember everything you learned during the school year, so we actually have to do a lot of studying to prepare for these tests. Worse, the AP tests take place in the beginning and middle of May--so there isn't enough time to finish the curriculum. Why is this? I find it, quite frankly, rediculous.

It doesn't take much skill to observe that the condition of juniors' minds is being affected by this. And on top of all that, we are supposed to be visiting colleges, planning impressive activities to put on our applications, and such. So we do the only thing that anyone could expect us to do--GO CRAZY! That's right. Everywhere I look, I see signs of craziness. Take, for example, one of my friends, who upon hearing the mention of visiting colleges, suddenly began to rant about how cruel it was that people's vacations had to be spent visiting colleges, visiting colleges, and, well, visiting colleges. Because, after all, vacations are supposed to be relaxing breaks, and we need this, but alas, we do not get it. But of course, he said, it is useful to visit colleges. After all, when he saw the advertizements of one particular college, it all looked good. But when he actually visited the college, he found that it was just a mass of hippies. Yes, two of the students he met were dressed like Peter Pan, there were boys wearing capris, everyone was saying, "Peace, peace," etc. Another time, when I was waiting for my gym teacher to arrive, I overheard a conversation about colleges. One girl said "Did I ever tell you my plan? I'm going to dig a hole and live in it, and have people feed me three times a day." When you hear that, you know that it's college and testing season.

-Philip