Reflecting

I was going to make my last post funny.  I wanted to include pictures and mock some of my classmates for their love of sliders.  But then blogger went down, and now I don't have the time to do that.  Besides, we're done.  No more school.  I won't see a lot of you again until graduation weekend, and the entire process is bittersweet.  Some people love Chagrin, but the vast majority that I talk to really want to leave.  I like a lot of people here.  I'm not cynical enough to say that everyone sucks and Chagrin sucks and it's so unfair going to a good school.  Sure, I got irritated with my classmates sometimes, but like I said, I won't be seeing most until graduation, and after that we'll be going to different schools. 

I can't believe how many seniors were lifers.  It's weird that everyone literally knows everyone since kindergarten.  I guess it should make our senior class stronger, but I almost feel like it's a disadvantage.  We pulled together at the end, but a lot of our planning went... questionably.  It annoys me that we might have the reputation of the grade that didn't do anything right.  We have a lot of smart and talented people, but the grades before and after us have better reputations.  I mean, we still count.  It's not like we've done anything catastrophically wrong.  We weren't the grade who got the administration to breathalyze every dance.  Grades before us messed up the pumpkin roll and the cops shut it down early.  We're living in the shadow of every grade before us.

Well, I should probably end this on a more positive note.  We're pretty much graduated.  We're going to college.  We have the whole summer ahead of us.

Best of luck, class of '11.

Stay chi11.

Dear Journal... This is the End

Dear Journal,

We've had some trusty times together through the course of AP English.  Remember that one time, when I wrote

     Dear Journal, today I start AP English?

          Dear Journal, this is a journal within a journal.  J O U R N A L C E P T I O N.

All jokes aside now.  I am going to miss AP English very much.  We started off as scared juniors, and have progressed to being the coolest kids in school.  Okay, that might be a slight hyperbole, but we deserve some recognition.  I've never learned more or worked harder, and it's sad to see AP English coming to a close.  I really feel like we've all become closer, or at least come to respect each other.  AP English unified us.  I found myself talking with people I never would have before, ranting about English and Data Sheets and other nonsense.  Sure, it was rough.  Near the end, I just wanted it over with.  But when I sat down to take the AP test and felt completely confident, I appreciated all the effort I'd put in.  And now we have only a few days left.

So ends the best English class I will probably ever take.  In college I'll have introductory writing courses which will probably seem to easy.  Hopefully I won't forget how to write, but I don't think that's possible, since the rules of analysis are burned into my brain by now.  Also, the quotes.  Etched in my brain forever.

Basically, Journal, I'm going to miss everything.  I hope that all of my classmates find success in their college endeavors, and that Ms. Serensky's senior class next year doesn't drive her crazy.  (They probably will, as I'm sure we did)

Yours Truly,

Sarah

Pictured: I am a nerd.

Try AP English Today!

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1. AP English will give you an ego bigger than the white population of Chagrin Falls.  In fact, it will give you the ability to make awful jokes like that with little to no consequences.  You will believe that you are all-powerful, or at least until you get your first essay back.  Then you will discover new, exciting features of AP English!
2. You will learn mental self-defense.  AP English has a specially formulated method that allows you to rationalize bad grades, bad hair days, awkward moments, and mustache attacks.  Your powers of self delusion will become, as Ron Currie Jr. would say, "quite epic."
3. And there's another exclusive feature!  AP English will allow you to memorize various quotes until you cannot eradicate them from your mind.  When you go to college, you will be chilling with some new friends at a party, you'll hand someone a drink (fruit punch, of course) or an innocent piece of cake, and when they comment on the taste you will blurt out "that's the triazolam."  You will not make many more friends this way and will probably lose the ones you currently have, but that's okay.  You're cooler than them now.
4. Because AP English puts everyone into the same boat!  Everyone struggles!  Guaranteed struggle for all!  Even those who somehow get a 9 on an essay have to work until their cerebral cortexes bleed.  You will look around and wonder why no one else seems phased, and then realized that their brains have shut off from over-use.
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7. If you sign up for the two-year AP English Super-Package, you will be guaranteed a spot in the competition for a mention on Bobbie's Blog Banter.  You are merely guaranteed a chance to compete, not an actual success.  However, You can always purchase one of our other exclusive offers, such as A Sense of Humor, the Ability to Make Lists, and Popularity, which will in fact guarantee success on a semi-regular basis.
8. AP English offers the impressive ability to hate everything.  A slave who hid in an attic for years?  Too untrustworthy.  A man who died in Alaska?  Too whiny.  An entire Kansas family killed suddenly?  They deserved it, they were boring.  You will learn to hate authors, characters, narrators, and even specific words and forms of punctuation.  You might develop a grudge against the notorious Semi-Colon.  Anything can happen when there's hate.
9. Ever have trouble following instructions?  AP English can fix that for you.  You will be punished every time you forget the topic of an essay and write about sunlight and squirrels instead.  AP English will beat you senseless if you forget to pre-write or mark up the prompt.  You follow the instructions.  You do not get hurt.  This wonderful training program has proved effective in 99.99% of cases.
10. Most importantly, AP English is guaranteed to make you a better person.  You will look back on your life before you started this challenging and exciting program, and you will realize how much you have become an awesome demi-god of writing and analysis, with some good humor and work ethic thrown in.

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So there you have it!  Sign up for AP English today and we'll send you a complementary water bottle to collect all of the tears you will shed over the course of the next two years!  Offer ends today!  Call now!

How AP English will make you feel after you complete the AP Lit exam!

No Words, Just Comics

So I Guess that Everything Matters...

Out of all the books we've read this year, Ron Currie Jr.'s Everything Matters! was by far my favorite.  I didn't love this book the entire time.  In fact, you might say we had a bit of a love-hate relationship.  But in the end, this book affected me the most, and it was the only one that I actually enjoyed reading.  I found the allusions very modern and interesting, such as "your life is so blue it looks like a James Cameron movie."  This quote was both relatable and funny, while simultaneously depressing.  That's pretty much how the entire book went.  I'd connect with the characters, mostly Junior and Amy, and then they'd enter into depressing life situations and I'd get frustrated.  We always talk about how the books parallel our lives, and this was one book I was scared to see parallel my life in any way.  In the end, though, I got the sense from this book that it doesn't matter what I choose to do in life, since there are an infinity of possibilities and nothing is truly right or wrong.  In fact, "anything, anything, anything is possible."  It's easy to to give in to fear about the future, since "the theoretical snakes, theoretically lurking everywhere...trump them all," but the most important thing is to just continue living no matter what happens.  While Ms. Serensky would like us to "push the implications" in our essays, it's probably better not to do this in regards to real life.

image via imgur

PS: classmates who have posted pictures that they randomly found on Google images, be careful what images you link.  If you accidentally steal someone's copyrighted photo and they get ticked off, they can change the photo from the original source to something wildly inappropriate.  This happened to me...it was not pretty.  But I fixed it.  So just a warning.

But Really Though...

Top Ten Most Thrilling Academic Moments of My High School Career

I'm using very loose definitions of "thrilling" and "academic."  For the sake of this blog "thrilling" means exciting, chilling, or abnormally tremoring.  "Academic" means anything pertaining to school and/or theoretical or hypothetical; not practical, realistic, or directly useful (legit).  That said, I don't actually count many experiences as both thrilling and academic.  It's kind of a paradox.

1. Not failing my AP Chem test. This one kind of speaks for itself.  for anyone who has taken AP Chem... you know.  Also, not failing all other AP tests.  "We cannot all be masters," and I was and am content with this (Shakespeare 1.1.40).
2. That time when I totally got a ribbon from Ms. Serensky that says "I'm Special."  I feel like I need photo proof for this.  It will be posted.  A better ribbon, however, might have said "you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection," but I can understand that all of that font probably wouldn't have fit (Wilde 31).
3. That time I didn't get in trouble for wearing short shorts and got an award instead.  "How very, very strange, this life" (Currie 164).
4. Deciding to go to art school despite working so hard on academics for years.  Backstory: sometime around sophomore year I decided I liked art enough to do it in college, and then last year I was kinda like "I don't [paint] accurately... but I [paint] with wonderful expression" (Wilde 1).  And decided to apply to art school.
5. The moment when I realized that 90% of high school classes have no application in real life.  Freedom.  "And so anything, anything, anything is possible" when you stop trying so hard doing things that don't matter to you and focus on what you will use in the future (Currie 302).
6. When I stayed up way too late working on a data sheet and then in a state of delirium started making phone calls.  Half of the data sheet was nonsensical.  Thrilling.  "It is awfully hard work doing nothing," and yet terribly easy to make a fool of yourself after two or three in the morning (Wilde 17).
7. The time that my team got 100% accuracy on a multiple choice game.  Never again.  This victory was "Not destiny.  Happenstance," as it only occurred one time and led to a curse falling on my team forever after (Currie 62).
8. That time that we all skipped school to go to a football game.  Academics at its best.  "O, blood, blood, blood!" cried all of the students who actually wanted school that day (Shakespeare 3.3.449)
9. Turning in the research project that we did sophomore year, typos and lewd comments included, and receiving a fantastic grade.  I think. My first thought was "I have not deserved this" (Shakespeare 4.1.241).  My second was "Oh well, I'll take it."
10. That time that I got a 9 on an essay while riding on a dinosaur and visiting my secret sandwich factory in Switzerland.  It was "either the grandest thing [I] have ever done, or the cruelest" (Currie 275).  That was a delicious and rewarding day.  Except for the dinosaur bites.  (Will provide proof for this as well)  (EDIT: Dinosaur ate my photo proof.  Will have to make you a drawing instead).

Proof

We've Been Hatin'

Of the many poems we have traversed throughout this year, my favorite was one of our first.  "Winter in the Summer House," by Robert N. Watson, had fascinating imagery, sweet metaphors, and IT DOESN'T RHYME.  I don't know if anyone remembers my assertion that I "hate rhyming poetry" from the beginning of the year.  While studying a fair amount of poetry with rhyme schemes has made me appreciate both forms, I still prefer the flow of non-rhyming poetry.  However, that's not my sole reason for liking "Winter in the Summer House."  I swear.

The sense of loneliness that Watson conveys in his poem really struck a chord with me, since the subject of the poem brought it on himself.  He ignored the women who could have loved him, and so he remains alone.   In Othello Emilia expresses the desire to "Let husbands know/ Their wives have sense like them" (Shakespeare 4.3.96-97)  In the same way that the characters in Othello see a demise in their relationships due to miscommunication, the subject of Watson's poem feels the ill effects of a past relationship ruined.

For some reason, a lot of what we've read this year has to do with romantic relationships of the dysfunctional variety.  "There is love, and then there is love," and the second type tends to lend itself to crazy (Currie 223).  Even the supposedly high-class characters of The Importance of Being Earnest have dysfunctional views.  However, the problems in these relationships all come from the men.  Cecily complains how "men are so cowardly," and blames them entirely for all that has gone wrong (Wilde 40).

Basically, we seem to really hate on men in AP English.  In our literature, they make stupid mistakes, Bunbury, steal plums, lie about their names, hear voices, and kill their wives.  Even the poor lonely man in "Winter in the Summer House" doesn't escape criticism, despite the fact that his current existence is completely depressing.  Basically, the assumption seems to be that it's a man's own fault if he's alone, because obviously he made some mistake.  It's not even like we're reading a bunch of feminist authors, since the majority of our books and poems were written by men.

Anyway, props to our small handful of AP English males who have stuck through all of this.  I'm sorry that our literature hates you.

I Googled "manliest picture ever," and I got Ron Burgundy.  I thought it was appropriate for the moment.  So to make up for all of the man-hating we've done, here is the manliest picture I could find in five seconds.

Success?

I remember my favorite day of AP English because of the piñata, and the infant death.  Upon entering the classroom, I was greeted by the sound of maracas, and saw a Spongebob piñata hanging ominously from the ceiling.  It was quite clear that shenanigans would go down.  Having completes a SOAPSTone the night before, I knew that we would be discussing a poem about a dead baby, and so the odd juxtaposition of fiesta decor and death both confused and interested me.  Upon receiving the instruction to make a short skit based on the poem, my power group of Lizzy, Chase and I decided to go for gold and make an offensive skit involving smothering of an infant by personified Death.  We chose Chase for the role of Death, since "'tis a notorious villain," and had him pretend to asphyxiate Lizzy with a black hoodie that also doubled as a cape (Shakespeare 5.2.235).  After watching the much tamer poem interpretations of our classmates, I thought that our rendition would cause the class to "look shocked, which is vulgar, or laugh" (Wilde 9).  Actually, I think the end result was a mix of both.  But in the long run, our questionable skit-making tactics paid out, as we WON.  And by that, I mean that we got to destroy the piñata.  Which had a baby's face taped to it.  I'm not actually sure if this counts as winning, but hey... I think it is.  Anyway, after this entire episode, the class culminated in a discussion... while we ate tortilla chips.  Many of us started to focus more on eating than on talking, and "the silence [was] starting to get a little awkward" (Currie 252).  I had to force myself not to laugh as I crunched on tortilla chips and thought over the events of the last fifty-so minutes.  As the bell rang, I realized with a pang of sadness that this had been our last poetry project day, and that no class could ever top the ludicrous amount of dead babies and awkwardness that had just occurred.

Ok.  This picture is what I found when I searched "baby piñata" on Google images.  I actually wish I could write an entire blog about just this picture.  Where do they sell shirts like this?  Apparently this is the workings of an internet celebrity, so never mind.  It doesn't have to make sense.  Just enjoy the phrase "Your heart is my piñata" as you sit down to write your in-class essay tomorrow.

Not. Appropriate.

The daylight fell as metaphorically as possible over a long stretch of sidewalk, highlighting the cracks in the seedy pavement of a seedy neighborhood.  Two men walked slowly towards each other, one in the garb of a Victorian manservant, the other wearing a fantastically ironic t-shirt.  And pants, of course.  As they met upon the pavement, the sun sank over the horizon of sketchy apartments and telephone wires.

"Hello, Sir," the Victorian man intoned.  He paused, as if waiting for an audience's reaction to his words.

"I've got my instructions," replied the man with the clever t-shirt (Currie 193).  "Now, have you been drinking?"

"Yes, Sir; eight bottles and a pint" (Wilde 1).

"Ah." The speaker paused and surveyed his surroundings.  The second man continued to stand perfectly still, waiting for a cue from the other to commence with speaking.  "When's the last time you took the pills?" ironic-shirt-man asked (Currie 192).  The Victorian man showed an uncomfortable display of nervousness.

"I don't know what you're speaking of," he stuttered.

"Lane, I think it's time to admit you have a problem."

Lane began backing away slowly, but his elaborate Victorian-era costume hindered his crawling flight somewhat.  He started gesticulating wildly and stammering about his personal rights.

"I need you to stop your habits, Lane.  You're tearing our friendship apart.  I was okay with it at first, but once you started dressing up as a manservant and only responding to dialogue when directly spoken to, things got weird.  Can you please go to rehab?"

"Not even for ready money," Lane growled, dropping his affected air once and for all (Wilde 8).

"I'm taking you to the hospital" (Currie 193).

"Back off, Clark!"

Clark lunged towards Lane, who attempted to run away, but then halted suddenly.  He seemed perplexed and stood wavering on the now-unlit pavement.

"I'm gonna get real weird with it," he muttered, "But my copious drug and alcohol abuse has opened a door for me.  We are living inside fiction, my dear Clark.  Fiction."

Clark started to respond, but then a disembodied and rather morose voice intoned "Exit LANE and CLARK."

CURTAIN

Dear Journal...

Dear Journal,

I, Cecily Cardew, despise the thought of education.  "I keep a diary to enter the wonderful secrets of my life," but my day is full of dull subjects which I cannot bring myself to truly study (22).  "Horrid Political Economy!  Horrid Geography!  Horrid, horrid German!" (23).  I would much rather write to you, dear Journal, as you do not judge me.  Speaking of judging, I received the most awful bout of judgment today when I foolishly decided to share my love of crafts with my AP English 12 class.  You may wonder how a girl like me ended up in AP English, but it is a matter of little consequence.  The simple fact is that "I don't like novels that end happily.  They depress me too much," and so I though I fit in with the AP English crowd (22).  However, today's incidents may prove this sentiment false. You may not know this, but I have a habit of making elaborate piñatas in my spare time, when I am not tending to the flowers.  I consider it my secret strength, and I had thought to share it with my esteemed classmates and teacher.  I specifically chose to share this with them on my birthday, hoping that they would realize that a girl deserves praise on such a special occasion as her eighteenth birthday.  However, my expert craftsmanship was not well received.  "That piñata is horrifying," Katie C. said bluntly.  The others quickly agreed, and then analyzed the structure, design, and craftsmanship of my piñata.  I was appalled as they metaphorically tore it to pieces, then suggested that they physically tear it apart.  By this point, I had become so demoralized that I simply shrugged in agreement.  I watched as they beat my lovingly made piñata with a large stick, and then once they realized that there was nothing inside except my hopes and dreams, they continued discussion as if nothing had happened.

I'm sorry if this story has depressed or unnerved you.  Here is a video clip of something joyful to take your mind off of my misfortunes:

It Matters?

The following is a conversation between me, as a Junior in high school, and the third-person plural voice that usually resides in Junior's head.  It was a grueling experience.

VOICE: "First, enjoy this time!" (3)

SG: What are you talking about?  There's nothing to enjoy!  We're all terrified of murderers because of In Cold Blood, and terrified of actual murder caused by Ms. Serensky's future reaction to our essays.  We don't sleep.  We forget how to talk when discussions come around.  And I hear tell of these awful things called "Data Sheets" next year.  I can't even handle SOAPSTones.  I might die.

V: "We will not lie--it could kill you.  Now be calm" (3)

SG: WHAT???  Alright, who are you, and why are you in my head?  Also, why are you speaking as a plural, I only hear one voice.

V: Oh... We guessed that sounded cooler.  Now it's kind of a hard habit for us to break.  We could stop if you like.

SG: ...It's... OK.  It kind of makes more sense, now that I think about it.  So are you omniscient or something?

V: "We in fact only know one thing for certain" (8)

SG: Which is?

V: Can't tell you.

SG: Awkward.  Well do you know anything about AP English?

V: Actually, yes.

SG: OK.  So what's the secret?  I know there has to be a way to get through these discussions, but everyone interrupts like crazy or else changes the topic for no reason so that my points become irrelevant.  Is there any way to change this?

V: Honestly, no.  You, and everyone else, will struggle with being understood for the rest of your lives.

SG: That's bleak.  What do I have to look forward to?

V: Well, you may ask yourself, "does anything I do matter?" (9)

SG: And?

V: We'll leave it up to you to answer that question.  As far as life goes.  But you should know that, as far as AP English 11, everything you do DOES matter.  All of it.

SG: I still don't know if I can trust you... how can you prove that you know anything?

V: How can you prove that YOU know anything?

SG: Do you always answer questions with questions?

V: Don't you?

SG: Well, I have to go annotate a book now.  It was great talking to you, but I think you're proof of my English-caused insanity.  I'm going to stop listening.  Goodbye.

V: This isn't the least you'll hear of me... You'll see me again in a year.  EVERYTHING MATTERS!

SG: ...Thanks?

pretend this is a clever caption

English Class: The Popularity Contest

During this week's Wednesday blog banter, we discussed how English class can be interpreted as a popularity contest.  Ms. Serensky seemed particularly disturbed because there was no way to quantify the popularity, but we all agreed that it exists.  Everyone should agree that school itself is a popularity contest.  We all support our friends, and so the individuals with the most friends get the most support.  Or so one would think.  AP English popularity is apparently different, and requires either wasting a large percent of your life in English-related pursuits or being able to BS really, really well.  So what makes the most popular English student?  A keen sense of humor?  Astounding intellect?  Pure chance?

Never fear.  I have devised a flowchart to help you figure it all out.

 Hopefully this handy flowchart helped you on your journey to becoming the most popular student, or helped you to discover that you already are.

In case you skipped over the flowchart due to a short attention span, here are some one-step ways to tell if you are, indeed, Most Popular.

• Have you submitted to Prism? ---> Most Popular
• Are you Marc Golsmith? ---> not a chance

Sorry Marc.

How I Saved the Horses (And Destroyed the English Language)

I was inspired by Sarah Ross's recent post detailing the writings of her childhood, and it, in conjunction with my poetry group's decision to focus on childhood and imagination, caused me to reflect on my own youth.  I was a strange child.  I recently told my poetry group a story of my rebellious preschool days when I tried to play house with the mean girls in my class.  They claimed that I could only play with them if I was the maid.  Enraged by this injustice, I proceeded to steal all of the plastic food from their refrigerator.  I then believe I sulked in a corner with the stolen food.

After reliving this... interesting... memory, I remembered that, at the age of 6, I wrote a story titled "HOW I SAVD thE horSES."  That is the title as I wrote it.  I have just pulled the original manuscript from one of my desk drawers, and will now relive my childhood mind.

Page 1:
"ones me and my horse were in the feild a person walked up and lookd at my horse when I got back from getting ots for my horse... my horse wus gone!"
-Nice use of suspense and indirect characterization, 6-year-old Sarah.

Page 2:
"then I heard a whinny a soft whinny my horse I w up and down steets as I did it got louder this wusent a horse this wus horses."
-Once again, suspense takes prevalence as a literary device.

Page 3:
"It led me to a place made of logs I broke in thar were horses evrywhere and a man with a injecjun tube that had drugs wu tryIing to injekt my horse"
-OK, now I am slightly concerned.  Who is this man, why does he have an "injection tube," and why is he targeting the horse of a six year old girl?  Is this more suspense?

Page 4:
"I was so mad that i opend the door and let the horses go then I took my horse by the neck and kicked the man"
 -OK, 6-year-old Sarah, we need to talk.  You need some basic lessons in self-defense.  I appreciate you freeing the horses, really, but when you are in the presence of a strange drug-pushing man, you get the hell out of there no matter how much you want to kick him while strangling your horse.

Page 5:
"I took my horse home an went back I hit the man and tryed to konck him ovre but it didnt work"
-Did you not listen to me?  Escape the drug pusher!  Don't try to overwhelm him with your 6-year-old strength!  Of course it didn't work, you probably weigh forty pounds!

Page 6:
"I jabd the injejn nedl in to him he let out a howl and cold for his ajent Bily"
-Sarah, you are about to get yourself thrown in jail.  This is no longer self-defense.  You are openly assaulting a grown man who is probably afraid to defend himself because a crazy first grader has invaded his home and returned on several occasions to further injure him.

Page 7:
"Bily brst in I tryd to get him b sodly with a clik I was trapd!"
-I don't know what just happened.  Is this more suspense?

Page 8:
"I herd thme wispr then I sol my cat he wus goying to injet her so di la bred came and gave me the key I wus free I savd my cat and went home."
-The end?  What is with all of this deus ex machina?  Where did your cat come from?  What or who is "di la bred" and why would he/she/it give you the key?  Furthermore, why would these men want your cat?  Are they horse/drug traffikers, or do they just like testing drugs on animals?

I have never been so confused in my life.

this is what every page looked like...

I'm Right?

 Today, as I worked on a crossword with some of my esteemed AP English classmates who I will not mention here, I claimed that the answer to the clue "Pretentious, informally" should be "hifalutin."  They quickly shot me down and claimed that I was wrong, citing one time last year where I claimed that a simile could exist without using "like" or "as" (don't ask).  But here, for you, I have proof:


According to The Free Dictionary: 
high·fa·lu·tin or hi·fa·lu·tin
 adj. Informal
Pompous or pretentious

This marks one of the many times when I have been right, but no one believed me because everyone thinks that I am crazy.  Fore some reason, everyone assumes that I like to make up facts.  Well, I don't.  I just have a vast store of useless knowledge, and no one wants to believe most of it.  I face laughter for many of my correct views.  Some other examples include:

1. The existence of crested newts
2. The fact that Volpone was talking about physical gold in that AP reading we did
3. It's better to peel bananas from the non-stem end
4. There are different shades of black depending on the mix of warm or cool colors

Occasionally, though, a new bit of knowledge destroys my world.  As when I learned that peppers are actually a fruit, not a vegetable.  Seriously?

 This is a crested newt.  IT EXISTS.

Essay v. Data Sheet

less work, more tears, fewer points.

Senioritis: The Epidemic?

I've been talking a lot lately about senioritis, between conversations about how "I just don't care anymore" and "well, I'm already going to college."  We all complain incessantly like it's a real disease.  So I thought I'd look up some "official" definitions of the word.

A quick search yielded these results:

• Wikipedia: "Senioritis, from the word senior plus the suffix -itis (which refers to inflammation but in colloquial speech is assumed to mean an illness), is a colloquial term used in the United States and Canada to describe the decreased motivation toward studies displayed by students who are nearing the end of their high school, college, and graduate school careers."

        Hey look!  Canadians have it too!  And college kids!

• Urban Dictionary: "A crippling disease that strikes high school seniors. Symptoms include: laziness, an over-excessive wearing of track pants, old athletic shirts, sweatpants, athletic shorts, and sweatshirts. Also features a lack of studying, repeated absences, and a generally dismissive attitude. The only known cure is a phenomenon known as Graduation"

        Agreed... I have devoted my senior year to wearing sweatshirts, though I don't know if I would call my usage "over-excessive"

• College Board: "Don’t do it"

       ...Thanks?

• Dictionary.com: "Did you mean senhoritas?"

        ...No.


On one hand, the lack of desire to do anything productive provides a real problem.  On the other hand, most of us still put in a fair amount of effort, compared to other students in the US.  Most people I know have between 2 and 4 AP classes.  Many seniors at other schools fill their schedules with art classes, "Sewing," "Child Development," "Basket Weaving," and of course, lots of free periods.  So while it hits us, it doesn't pack quite the punch that it could.  It would be way easier to slack off in Basket Weaving than AP English.  Unless Ms. Serensky taught Basket Weaving.

The Awkward

Just last night, my younger sister and I were having a discussion with my mom about school dances and getting dates, which ended with us telling her that most of her suggestions were "awkward."  She then said something along the lines of "I don't know what it is with you people and your awkward.  We never worried so much about that."

This got me thinking.  Describing things as "awkward" has become somewhat of a trend with our generation.  It's not even always a bad thing; sometimes, situations are just... well... awkward.  The word has become something between slang and fact.  Spurred on by a phone call that woke me up this morning, I decided to make the following list of awkward situations:

1. Your boss calls your house and wakes you up, leaving you to talk to him while half awake.  Not mortifying, but awkward, since everyone has that weird "I'm asleep" voice after waking up.
2. You forget someone's name and try to subtly recall it.  This happens to me all the time at work, since I have to ask for people's names for orders, and I panic when a classmate or vague family acquaintance comes in and I momentarily forget their name but don't want to look like an idiot by asking.
3. That thing that happens when you're walking down the hall and try to sidestep to avoid someone, but they step the same way, and you do a sort of back and forth sidestep routine before one of you finally stops.  Or, sometimes, you actually walk into them anyway.
4. You start talking the same time as someone, especially in English class, then you both say "go ahead," both start talking again, and then one person has to just keep going.
5. You're watching a movie in school or with your family, and there's a sex scene.  You don't want to stare transfixed, but you don't want to look away like you can't handle it.  You usually end up laughing which just seems worse.  Similarly, when there's a dirty joke in a movie, you have to quietly hide your laughter in school or around family.
6. You don't hear what someone says, so you ask them to repeat it, but for some reason you don't hear again, you eventually just laugh or say "okay" ...then find out they were asking you something important.
7. A college that you didn't apply to calls you and says that they received your SAT or ACT scores and are waiting for your application.  When you tell them that you have already applied to all of your colleges but thank them for their interest, they ask where you have applied.
8. Someone is in the middle of an important story over the phone, and the call drops.  If you are the listener, then you have just missed a necessary detail of the story.  If you are the speaker, then you hear silence on the other end after sharing an important secret and assume the other person is judging you.
9. You tell a coworker that you can't cover their shift, then have to go in to work to get your paycheck and see them there.  Similarly, you tell a friend you can't hang out with them and then see them when you go out.
10. You have to tell a teacher you are dropping their class.  There is no easy way.

Boom.  Awkward.

Got any more?

(On a side note, I would totally suggest watching College Humor's Awkward Rap... if that isn't awkward to suggest over a school blog.)

Let's Talk.

So if you haven't heard, our school has this publication we call Prism, and we publish a book of writing and art at the end of every school year.  Now, some of you may not have realized this, but never fear.  I will, once and for all, clear up all of your confusion.  Hopefully.

We're all intelligent, creative people, and Prism is a way for us to show off more than usual.  You get the bragging rights to say that you got published.  I know most people don't care, but think about it this way... it's a competition.  You must defeat your classmates.

Don't think your writing is good enough?  Think again.  In the past, we have gotten submissions entitled "Death and My Other Favorite Things" that rhymed "pain" with "rain" and "again."  Ok, so that's an exaggeration, but you get the idea.  You can write a lot better than that.

Also, we review everything anonymously.  Well, the writing, that is.  I don't know why you'd want your art to be anonymous though.  But if you don't want anyone to know that you wrote a sestina about your love for Nickelback and Twilight, then you can simply turn it in without your name on it.  If you decide to include your name to earn eternal glory, then you will be comforted by the fact that, when we rate everything that you submit, we get a packet of work with the names removed. 

Still not convinced?  Then do me a favor and threaten some juniors or underclassmen into submitting their work. 

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or Haley, or just comment on this post.

The Final Blog-down

I'm going to attempt to spit out this blog in the 4 minutes I have until I have to go to work, so bear with me.

I've enjoyed the blogs.  I like reading my classmates' inner thoughts and I think it gives a lot of people an opportunity to be witty and humorous where they would otherwise get mowed over in class discussion.  Some people's blogs really make me think, and when I get bored, it's a good source of entertainment other than Facebook.

However.  Some of the blog requirements drive me CRAZY.  Like pictures.

about this crazy

The eight photos thing kinda crept up on me, if you couldn't tell.

like a pack of ninjas

I also didn't enjoy the comment requirements, particularly how we could only comment on a blog once.  Some people had really interesting content all the time but I couldn't comment on it because of this requirement.

Anyway, I have to go serve Mother Bread now, so that about wraps up my feelings about blogs.

Competition!

Last week, Ms. Serensky mentioned that our classmates "are merciless."  This comment was in reference to embarrassing ourselves in out blog presentations, but I realized that, when it comes to pure competition, we all become mercilessly focused on winning.

 somewhat like this

Take Bobbie's Blog Banter as an example.  I've mentioned before how we all use wit and intellectualism, along with gimmicky jokes, to try to land a spot on this prestigious show.  In fact, for most people, getting onto the show is the only motivation to make their blog worth reading.  Some of us even argue with each other through blogs.

"my blog is better than yours!"

Truly, though, everyone's competitive side comes out in the multiple choice game.  Some of us secretly plot, putting our teams together, trying to gain the upper hand.  Those coveted ten extra credit points that come with a first place victory drive everyone to insanity.  Though hopefully not Shutter-Island-level insanity.

like this, except replace his wife with your AP English grade

I'm not saying that competition is bad.  Without it, sports would be pointless and we would have a lot less motivation to succeed in academics and other areas in life.  Even as children, we were all secretly disappointed when we played games "just for fun" and everyone "won."

this game would be a lot less fun if everyone won

Really, we thrive on competition.  We wouldn't know what to do if everyone got the same reward for whatever amount of work they did.  We need to feel a sense of accomplishment for our actions, and we need to feel like we have beaten someone.  So watch out, everyone.  This multiple choice game is about to get rowdy.

The Great Landshark Debate

What with the data sheet looming over us like Nurse Ratched over her ward, I thought that I would attempt to provide some levity by rambling about something that does not relate to quotes, insanity, or fear.

Well, maybe a bit of fear.

Today in Biology class, one of my fellow AP English-ers and I got into a heated debate about the phsysiology of a "landshark," a completely imaginary shark with legs that I made up as an example for a genetics problem.  She and I argued about whether the shark would stand perpendicular or parallel to the ground, based on the placement of its legs.  Throughout the day, I questioned many people on their personal opinion.  Now, I leave it up to my fellow AP English students--at least those who bother to read these blogs.  Which shark formation looks more correct?

(Yes, Ms. Serensky, this is what we spend our free time talking about.  Sorry.)