As per request from wonderful friends, I will write my stories and little notes I’ve taken from my experiences.
In highschool, I –for some strange reason– became the Guru of anything pertaining to romance and sex for couples and friends. One of my closest friends, Minecrafter of Aphrodite (we will call him MoA for short) asked me to teach him to kiss since he had just started dating his first girlfriend. It was his sophomore year of highschool and my Junior year, so I took his request. I thought for a while about a way to verbally teach him and came to the conclusion that strawberries would be the best analogy.
See, giving someone step-by-step directions going through how to move their lips, tongue, and cheeks would be a disaster and I’d end up just making a bunch of weird faces at him. I didn’t find this an attractive way to teach or a useful way for him to learn how to handle another person.
I ended up telling him this:
“Imagine you are holding a succulent, juicy, strawberry. You don’t take the strawberry and rip into it with your mouth like an animal, nor do you lick it all over with your tongue and rub its juices all over your face. No, you gingerly press it to your lips and then take it slightly into your mouth between your lips and put pressure down on it. Don’t get complex or you won’t be savoring the taste. Start slow and then if you find out the strawberry isn’t reluctant, move forward. Silent communication.”
Now strawberries are not essentially sexual (like a banana) or romantic (like chocolate), but I think they are perfect for this situation since kissing can be either very emotional or apathic. Kissing is what you make it and what you put into it. It’s a way of communicating your intentions and feelings, or the lack thereof.
arousing curiosity or interest; holding or catching the attention.“an interesting debate”2. A term used meaninglessly and copiously by those with nothing better to say.
synonyms: absorbing, engrossing, fascinating, riveting, gripping, compelling,compulsive, captivating, engaging, enthralling;
So, now that we know what it means, what does it really mean?
To me, an interesting person is someone who rarely bores me, even if what they are talking about is on the uses of tylenol. What my current dilemma entails is a girl whom with all circumstances and experiences should be the most interesting human on the planet, but she is one of those humans I have a difficult time speaking too without a group. Our one-on –one communication I would think would be amazing, since both of us have similar interests in langue arts, linguistics, history, and religion; it seems though, that she and I cannot hold a conversation with each other in an empty room for more than a half hour without external input.
Secondly, I usually assume that people who are well educated, well traveled (even if thats just in the united states, Canada, and Mexico) should by default, according to their money spending track records, an interesting and well rounded human being. These people should be eye catching, have good stories(even if these stories are fairy tales, making it all the more interesting), be inspiring, and be ready for adventure.
Unfortunately, I can’t figure out why this woman bores me to literal tears. Ultimately, I’m too hopeful and tend to lend my friends one too many chances to surprise me with their intellect and make me laugh with good(or terribly bad) stories, or even better: make our own stories; but damned if they don’t because I am drained by these individuals. I give all my funny(or sad) stories to them, I share or invent adventures for them, I invite them to raving mad gatherings and try to inspire some spontaneity within them, but I’m slowly but surely giving up.
ART. Art is another thing — when individuals can appear to appreciate all the artistic things of the world, from fashion to music and dance but are depraved of having creativity it brings me to my knees with disappointment. Sure, we need non labeled artists to be inspired by labeled artists, but all humans should have true creativity, they should be able to more than clone paintings and crafts.
Contrary to some people’s belief, creativity isn’t all spontaneity and divine or other inspiration, it is cultured by loving adults who teach young children to let their brains be free, let their eyes wonder, hands move over material, and feet jump at every chance, or voice squeak when their soul sings through their body.
Back on track, I can’t grasp the strangeness of humanity’s ways. I’m baffled that chemistry is what connects us but, but philosophy and politics is what separates us.
I need to think about this more.
My first time taking the ACT I was a sophomore in highschool, and its been three years since then and I believe whole heartedly I was a smarter person at that time because of four classes:
1. Latin 2 (Honors)
2. Classical and Medieval History (Gordon College Professor who is super awesome)
3. Classical Literature and Writing (Honors, taught by an ordained bishop, who also consequently is the smartest person I have ever met)
4. Geometry (With my mother who is an Engineer and it rocked)
These foundations are classical Greek and Roman foundations of education (plus add some philosophy and cultural anthropology for unbiased analysis reasons) and this is what I call the perfect lessons to prepare you to write a three page essay in under thirty minutes with organized ideas AND quotes from the literature/historical manuscripts that should be burned into your brain forever.
According to the the syllabus of my Classical Lit and History courses, I now can have a conversation with a student who has a masters in Classics or Literature very well.
I used a quote from Giovanni Pico Della Mirandola (Renaissance, Italian scholar and philosopher) for my essay on the ACT that I tied in to the importance of learning and intellectuality. (…this post is so entirely opposite from my last blog post my goodness.) This quote talked about the different parts of humanity and what they make a person appear like.
“When man came into life, the father endowed him with all kinds of seeds and with the germs of every way of life. Whatever seeds each man cultivates will grow and bear fruits in him. If these are vegetative, he will be like a plant; if they are sensual, he will become like the beasts; of they are rational he will become like a heavenly creature; if intellectual, he will be an angel and a song of God…. ” (The Oration on the Dignity of Man 1486)
So, to the ACT essay graders, I think I looked pretty damn hot 😉
Along with using quotes and being able to accurately tie them into the random subject you were given, you need to have a good idea of how you like to start your essays, or how to get yourself into a good writing mindset.
I usually try to use the page they give you to plan out your essay to write the first paragraph in. It gives you some idea of how you want to format the lay out, but not the entire thing, more the sound and rhythm of your essay. Colloquial or very formal, your essay should reflect how well you can store knowledge and apply it correctly and nicely to anything they throw at you. And they will throw you some strange questions that seem pretty stupid at first glance.
I’ve taken standardized tests for 3 years with essays tacked on them and it gets old really fast. Also, if you are taking a CLEP exam, remember to CITE the information they give you properly, it’s not just there for you to stare at contemplatively.
Another thing, use AWESOME vocabulary and use it in a tasteful way,
“Swivel chairs are too ridiculous for rambunctious kids who let their glee overwhelm them, tenaciousness can often upset pedantic teachers.” (This sentence is gross but do you understand how silly it sounds to have this many unusual vocabulary words in one sentence?)
You should use them like THIS:
“Good adjectives and adverbs should be used ubiquitously.” (This is a fair example because colloquial and gray words like “good” are not very useful descriptors(adjectives); they are subjective to someone’s biased point of view of “good”, but words such as “unseemly” (with other descriptions of WHY it is unseemly) is an approved adjective.)
If by any chance you are able to use a semicolon properly in a paragraph you will probably get good points. The quote I just used above is a good example of semicolons.
” Colons (:) are used in sentences to introduce that something follows like a quotation, example or a list. Semicolons (;) are used to join two independent clauses, to separate main clauses joined by a conjunctive adverb or to separate items in a list that already uses commas. “(Your Dictionary.com)
And some examples:
“With educated people, I suppose, punctuation is a matter of rule; with me it is a matter of feeling. But I must say I have a great respect for the semi-colon; it’s a useful little chap.”
“Training is everything. The peach was once a bitter almond; cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education.”
I also HIGHLY recommend keeping a journal entry maybe not once a day, but at least twice a week to keep your mind flowing easily in writing; even if it is total nonsensical babble about school and drama it will help.
These past weeks have really sucked. Not because nothing good happened, but because all the good things were spoiled by disappointments, and disaster took ever shining moment into a tainted crimson version of what it could’ve been. Which was a nice sepia, but that’s not what these weeks look like now, they are sad.
Lyrics that I relate to right now: (Here With Me by Dido)
Oh I am what I am
I’ll do what I want
But I can’t hide
I won’t go
I won’t sleep
I can’t breathe
Until you’re resting here with me
I won’t leave
I can’t hide
I cannot be
Until you’re resting here with me
“Let’s still be friends.”
Ha. You’re funny.
I am really not myself.
I miss me from back in 2010 and 2011.
I was so happy, carefree, and I had so much clean fun.
I didn’t care what people thought of me at all. I just loved myself and loved people and never gave second glances to things.
I wish it was like that now.
People affect me and change me and I feel like I’ve lost a lot of myself from this. I lost some of my wittiness. I lost my individuality even though it still looks like I got it.
All this integration has brought me away from who I am. Who I used to be. Who I want to be.
Maybe its just teen angst. Maybe its just me changing? Maybe I am just fucked up?
I don’t know.
At least I can be proud of myself for having A LOT of self-control. I still haven’t gotten into addictions or any hardcore bad experimental stuff that could get me into deep shit.
Pretty wise statement. Especially when you realize that giving yourself fully doesn’t mean it’s going to be accepted or reciprocated.
A lot of unrequited love about these parts….
Not even close, say my sources.
My hickey from last week is completely faded. My mother actually didn’t even notice until I brought it up, thinking I was an innocent. I thought she was just keeping quiet because of my dad. (It was a completely unwarranted hickey, though.) I only noticed its complete disappearance while curling my hair.
Teenage life is ridiculous. I am literally ignoring so many people I dont even remember who I am ignoring anymore. I stopped trying. Except I do know two of whom I have unwaveringly ignored perfectly for the past 3 months. I call it success.
But all that changed two nights ago when one of them posted something on my wall. A picture of her and I last spring (When we were still talking). This confused me. Then I realized she’s probably trying to reconnect with me again. I didn’t refuse the offer, but I am now still wondering what her motive was… She Who Must Not Be Named is one of those girls that I will never be able to understand, although I know her behavioral patterns like the texture of my hair. (Other than her and my shared xboyfriend – The Bastard, who is so similar to her…no wonder they broke up.)
The reason for bringing this up is, I took pity on my friend Fey who sits next to the two of them in our class. I thought there was no worse fate. Tuesday, I decidedly sat between SWMNBN and Fey. This was….odd. I’d never been all cheeky and cute in class with a girl before. To be honest, I actually wasn’t, but it was close enough. I actually said some really gruesome stuff that made my classmates gag or feel depressed about their lot in life, it is necessary to remind all present humans of these things, you know. But still, I was like sorta girly with Fey, to oppose the riotous gross estrogen seeping children to my left (SWMNBN and The Queen Bee) who were giggling the enttirreeeee time. It hurt my soul, but I powered through it due only to the fact I took a 10 minute breather from them during break. I also got to cuddle Fey which was very nice indeed. (MineCrafterofAphrodite should be jealous,[her boyfriend])
Double brackets, for the win.
As stated at the top, Teenagers, man, they never stop.
I have lost my attention span more and more lately.
I’ve endured 90 minute to 2 hour classes for that past three months and I’ve just about lost my skill for focusing when I am at home. It’s like my wind and body just wanders and I can’t seem to pick up where I last left off. I find myself looking up random
and here are all the posts I’ve written and have been interrupted in the middle of.
Weak of spirit: I don’t really know what to do anymore. I’ve become so numb to many emotions. The feeling of wrong and right, how to detect whats wrong. Blurred lines. 10/10/13
Stupid Weirdos: So there’s this thing called a midterm……..yeah lets not talk about that. I got enough work to do that I pretty much, go to class, play piano, and do my homework. 10/09/13
Saying No: I guess I’ve always been a “Yes!” person. Excited, enthused, ready to go, and encouraging the best. I’ve realized as well that because of this I let people into my life that drain me dry. I have to learn to say no. I’m not very good at it at all…. What else I have noticed is that people are eager to volunteer their time to have you “talk about” what you are going through, but hardly recognise when you start to talk about it. 10/02/13
A Never Ending Persecution: There must be something about me that attracts people to call me vulgar names; I can’t seem to avoid them. Better yet, maybe there is something inherently attractive about close-mindedness that people feel the need to terrorize those that aren’t.Maybe this makes no sense. To the point: At least 3 times a week, I am being bombarded with names that I do not deserve, and a lot of the time, I receive these things nick names from people who I thought were friends of mine.
I am on a non-stop song writing streak. It gives me almost a high to write. I love it so much. I think it frees my soul and mind in a way I’ve never experienced. 08/11/13
I am Starting to See a Pattern here: I seem to stumble into a very neat linear action of falling majorly for guys that are 3-6 years older than me. I can’t decide whether this is normal for my age or unusual. I also am confused by how often I tend to reject younger guys and except older ones.
It might be purely because I find that many guys that are older have matured better emotionally and socially, while the younger ones (between 14-17) tend towards the awkward stages of in between understanding the concept of maturity and the balance of immaturity. Not to ignore the very prominent figure of awesome immaturity, which is another matter in itself.
Maybe its just me. Falling in love with people that i am not legally able to be with in almost any way. So…. I get caught in awkward places. 07/28/13
When all Else Fails, Fall Asleep in A Pile of People: That pretty much sums up my week-end. Laugh so hard till we collapse and then run out of breath to talk from all the laughing till finally, we succumb to silence and then sleep.
If you cant tell, I am procrastinating writing my five page history paper. Its rather repetitive because it is on the catholic and protestant reformation… Ugh, the information is overwhelming. 5/27/13
What I wanted to say on fb: and this everyone can see, and they can feel embarrassed for me w.e. … IDGAF
I am not boy crazy, I actually love women, or I wouldn’t be posting this on your wall.. and I am simply a “needle in the vein of the establishment,” and there is”Nothing wrong with me, this how I am supposed to be. in a land of make-believe, don’t believe in me.”
“My name is jimmy and you better not wear it out, suicide commando that your momma talked about, king of the forty thieves and I’m here to represent.” -Green Day
Actually, what I wanted to say was, stop judging me….. please? If I am on Facebook too long, I obviously have no life or problems… If the only thing I feel comfortable talking about to people I don’t trust is random stories that have to do with my guy problems it obviously means I am boy crazy and think about nothing but sex. If I have a bad day and am crabby, I am forever called an immature women. (BTW I AM NOT A MATURE WOMAN, you can’t ask a 15 teen year old boy to be a man, would you ask a 15-year-old girl to be a woman?)
I make mistakes, yes. This is who I am and I can’t change that.
So please, if I ever judged you, I am sorry, can we start over???
What I wish people would do. ^-^ 11/14/12
Things I really don’t Notice: I have to say, I’m a very good observer, but my mother is too sneaky for me. How does that laundry make it from the basement to the second floor so quickly on the weekends? Why is it that all the rooms down stairs stay organized? Mom is the explanation to the household miracles. I call her Marmmy in public so not to confuse her with the other multitude of mothers out there, cause she’s special. And I know, I know, it’s not mother’s day.. and it’s not even my Marmmy’s birthday, I just was thinking about her awesomeness.
As promised when I was in New York City, Clay, I will write about you. I might beautify a little, but that’s what all writers do even if they don’t admit it.
Clay, always sitting behind his mahogany desk between the black columns, a small lap top in front of him and to his right a phone and note book with spaced scribbles in every corner. Though in the dimly lit club like dark 70’s hotel lobby, you could make out his form with the small spotlight that was cast above his workspace.
New York is not what it looks like on Glee, or those penthouse shows. It looks like a dirty city with a lot people and a lot of very tall buildings that block out the sun, stars, and moon. The buildings and people don’t sleep so noise even in the depth of night and early morning is present. It isn’t a bad place though, just not the place I could survive in long. I am not sick and I suspect the city was a contributor to my illness.
Tomorrow is another school day, laboring over my oral presentation for my genetics project. I also must have a full draft of my persuasion letter for British Literature, I’m thinking I might have to write three to make up for my lack of focus.
This has been a long blog, but necessary to cover the ground I have been heedlessly trampling for two months. 1/03/12
Enough. Omg.. .too much.
After thinking over the “Reason for the Season” quite a bit during this long and very nice vacation, I have quite a few annoying things to point out. (Yes, this means another list…sorry.)
1. I was thinking back on the day I babysat my neighbors, they are twin girls that are six. I picked them up off the bus at 3:15 and brought them to my house next door. I pulled out their homework from their back packs which their mom had told me to help them with. I knew K#1 would do fine, she was smart sweet and always listened to me. But K#2, was a little rascal. She knew exactly how to get under anyone’s skin, and very quickly. But I was used to this about her, since this was the fifth week that I had picked them up. We sat down at the counter. I purposely put myself between them so I could give each an equal amount of attention. K#1 started her work and all I had to do was read the instructions for her if she didn’t know what to do. I could see K#2’s eyes getting that gleaming look all the kids do when they realize exactly how to piss me off. I was very prepared for this though. K#2 kept dropping her pencil purposefully. I picked it up twice, but then I had an idea. My mother (the ingenious women that she is) had made an entire bucket with sharpened pencils in it. I went and got it and put it in the center of the table. Every time K#2 dropped a pencil, I just handed her another one. No pause, no words, just put it right into her hand. This continued for quite some time until she refused to actually hold on to the pencil. If she wanted to take it a step farther, so would I. So I put her in the corner of the kitchen on the other side of the counter where I could see her but K#1 couldn’t. She protested. She did not understand why she was carried there. I told her: “Once you stop dropping them pencils I’ll let you sit over here, but if you keep this up, you have to stay in the corner for five minutes.” So I walked back around the counter and helped K#1 with her homework. K#2 didn’t cry or whine. She knew that wasn’t the way to get at me. Smart girl. She was baffled for awhile, her plan was foiled. (victory to the baby sitter!!) Then she said: “I wont drop them Zandia.” (That’s what they call me…) I replied: “Are you sure?” She nodded. “I’m sure.” So I walked back over and lead her back to her chair.
2. (Yes it does have to do with Christmas.) This is what I realized this morning. Parents, during Christmas time use this phrase to stop kids from being bad: “You better be good or else Santa won’t come.” Don’t you hate that?! Lying to your own children just to get them to be good. (Sub-list) Telling them:
a. Santa exists.
b. Santa is omnipotent.
c. Santa only gives gifts to those who deserve it.
And this doesn’t bother parents at all? Not a niggling feeling of guilt in the back of their mind, or a tingling feeling of regret at the bottom of their hearts? Nothing? See, when I realized that Santa did not exist I knew that my parents had been lying to me for 10+ years of my life about a very big part of my child hood. I was very angry to say the least. But I never spoke out about it. Never, Why? Because every parent was doing it. Not just mine. America, what have you done to us? If you made the connection between 1 and 2 = A+. If you did not, I’ll take it slow by adding 3.
3. I didn’t use the phrase. It didn’t even pop into my head. It didn’t occur to me to make an excuse using a fake higher power (the god of children) to guilt the kids into being good. Why would a parent use the weakness of their children this way? They don’t know what’s wrong or what’s right if you don’t show them. Could I stress that anymore?
Parents… Those things that help build our view of the world can also destroy it.
The bottom line is: Teenagers don’t just think about sex.