Speaking is a good thing.

So I'm doing some serious college-level procrastination here on a Sunday night because I feel like I'm still stuffed from the last three Thanksgiving meals I've eaten (three days in a row, not three years in a row). I should probably look over this political science presentation, but you know what? We all already know that China and North Korea have authoritarian governments. Hopefully. If you didn't know that, please refer to a New York Times near you. Or the internet. The internet is a wonderful creation.

While at college, I've learned a few things. First, that the college experience is like one big culture shock. Living with someone completely new and expecting to get along, making new friends quicker and becoming besties in months... It's expected of us but challenging nonetheless. The other thing I've learned is how some people live thinking that speaking up for yourself and for others is something that requires perfect timing and circumstance. I had never really experienced this kind of thing outside of cheesy American comedies and dramas, where I found it peculiar that a character would struggle so much over telling someone the truth, no matter how large or small the consequences. They'd always wait for the "right moment" or just make excuses until the truth came out in a horrible way that they hadn't anticipated, snowballing into the climax of the movie.

Don't get me wrong, I get when it's hard to say something when there's a lot at stake, but if you're just avoiding the subject for the sake of avoiding the subject, that's cowardice. I just read an article in the New York Times about my aunt and uncle who married five years ago, and they described their relationship as one that works because of communication. Everything is talked about. Some things may be argued over but at least they're out there.

In my own family, bluntness is a requirement. My dad grew up thinking debates were relaxed everyday discussions, while my mother thought the opposite, but regardless, debates are a regular thing. For some, this might make it seem like my household life is stressful or annoying, but I honestly miss it so much here at college where passive aggressiveness is the norm (I unfortunately do not exclude myself from such behavior) and there's no such thing as putting an issue out in the open to talk about. I've been in multiple situations where people have wanted to bring up an issue, but they don't because they're afraid of what comes next. There are times when things can end badly, but honestly, it's better to end something than to drag a horrible situation out. I have heard too many stories of how relationships (between friends, boyfriends, and girlfriends) ended because he said that she said that their neighbor's dog said that something happened when it didn't and then miscommunication after miscommunication ruins everything when it would have been so much easier to cut the crap and talk.

So people - most books and movies may create expectations about the awful shit that goes down when you actually talk directly at a person, but there are so many other books and movies that are about what happens when you don't speak. Like the book/movie Speak.

Got a problem with your friend? Talk with them about it. But more importantly, talk about solutions to that problem so it doesn't end terribly like in the movies. Got a problem with your enemy? Same thing. I'm going to cringe as I impart this little tip... Sometimes it's good to speak before you think. Too much, that is. Speak about your stress, don't stress about speaking, and all of a sudden your speaking will be stress-free.

I'll see if I come up with anything less ranty soon.

Just the Tip of the Apple

Here is how you know you are actually a country girl -- you're the first one to notice among your friends that in the city, you can't see stars at night. Spending a lot of time out on the family farm and at lake houses definitely made me more aware of how bright the stars can be, and it was certainly a shock to the system to look up into a clear sky and see one star... wait, just kidding, it was a plane. I literally relived that moment in Madagascar when Marty and Alex are looking at the sky, trying to find stars, and when they find one it's actually a helicopter.

So now that I've started out on a somber note, it's time to liven things up a little. Yes, I consider myself to be part country girl (I don't listen to country music), but living in the Big Apple is GREAT. People keep mentioning to me that college will pass by so quickly, but so far it feels like I've lived here for months. It's been almost three weeks. As completely cliche as it is, I have to say that there is no place I'd rather be right now. I've stopped chuckling to myself when I tell people I'm heading home when I mean my dorm because it's no longer a strange concept. Taking a step back and thinking about it in this context is a bit scary, but for the most part, I know I feel like I belong. Now cue the emotional collegiate orchestral music and montage of over-smiley faces...

I have been surprised by one thing, other than the fact that I really haven't been able to find time to blog (this doesn't count either since I really need to go back to doing homework): my Theology class. It's not Bible Studies, thank goodness. Yes, I'm going to a Jesuit university; no, not everyone here is religious. Literally all we do is talk, discussing how each person's life is changed by other people and their beliefs and ways of life. Being in that class reminds me of what my dad told me about his family when he was growing up -- all of the siblings would get into these arguments that would go on and get pretty intense, but at the end of the day, no one was upset, and everyone learned something new. I suppose I can't speak for fifty people, but I can personally say that that's how Theology class is for me.

I will probably be posting about that class a lot, because otherwise all I have to talk about is doing homework and eating way too much Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Oh, and getting Korean food in Koreatown. And wandering around in Manhattan. And passing by Fashion Week (not even interested in fashion?..). And planning on going to Hell's Kitchen Flea Market. Are you jealous yet?

College!

Hey guys, sorry I haven't posted anything in a lifetime, but it seems I've entered the world college. Whaaaaaat?

So what do I talk about? I feel like I'm not qualified to say anything because I'm a wee freshman still wondering where everything is. I found the bookstore and coffee so I should be set, right?

Orientation was crazy. Being a very independent, somewhat sheltered person, I like structure, but my first two days were just insane. No rest for the weary. At least I could actually tell who the freshmen were by our little lanyards and wide-eyed expressions. The best part by far though was the fact that every single person here that I've met is incredibly friendly. My fellow freshmen, the professors, the staff, and everyone else here is patient, helpful, and knowledgeable. Look at all this cheesy collegiate talk. At least I won't go into detail about the cockroaches...

First day of classes was today. I can't even wrap my brain around most of this stuff (i.e. literally everyone's name), so ironically classes gave me an opportunity to wrap my brain around something. German is not a teacher babbling in German for an hour, and Theology is not Bible Study. What is this, some kind of liberal school? Psh.

I can't think. It's definitely a good idea to blog when one can think. I'm going to sleep and I'll try again later.

Inspirational People

I think we all like to think that there are truly inspirational people out there; people who wholeheartedly care for others, who show unfailing kindness through both their words and their deeds. I was blessed to have known my grandmother, who was that inspirational figure for so many family members and friends. For all intents and purposes, she is a saint in my mind.

To give you some context, my grandmother was the mother of thirteen children, whom she raised and home schooled on a dairy farm. As if this doesn't already sound like an impossible task, she also managed to stay happy and healthy as she welcomed friends, husbands, wives, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to her home throughout the rest of her life. I suppose I can even thank her for my very existence; it's because of her that my parents met. When I was little, my dad would tell me "Farm Stories," and my favorite was always when my dad and a few of his brothers would sneak off in the middle of reading something since their mother had nodded off, probably to go sit in the cherry tree and eat until they felt sick. It's simply so classic and American and I love it.

I don't know whether or not it makes me a terrible person to get my ideas about heaven from a TV show, but it does give the place a nice impression. In Buffy, there's an episode when she comes back from the dead and discusses what heaven was like. She recalls it being a place where she was completely content and at peace, and she knew that all of her friends and family were safe and loved. There are a lot of ideas about what heaven is like, but this is by far my favorite.

Rest in peace, Granny. You will always be my inspiration.

Much Ado About Joss Whedon

After hearing a few very good comments about it, I decided there was just no escaping it: I had to see Much Ado About Nothing. I had mixed feelings about it going in, since I'm a huge Joss Whedon fan, but I never really learned to appreciate Shakespeare... *ducks and covers as assorted rotten fruits and veggies fly in close proximity to my face*

Maybe I just have a thing for black and white modern films. I still love The Artist in all of its wonderful and lightly humorous beauty. Much Ado was similar to this, with its roller coaster of emotions and unexpected moments of hilarity.

Basically, the play is about two couples who go about admitting their love in two very different ways; while one couple is set to marry in a few days' time with only a few... minor... setbacks, the other pair profusely denies their love for one another, bickering and providing most of the comedic relief while avoiding the topic of love when they're clearly falling head over heels for each other (sometimes literally).

Being a Joss Whedon film, I have to comment on the actors first. If you've watched any of the other TV shows Joss Whedon has produced/directed/written (seriously, any), you'll notice right away that he basically took a couple actors from each of his shows and dumped them into this one. Once I got over the fact that Wes was finally going for Fred (Angel) and Topher actually grasped the concept of love (Dollhouse), it was easier, but it's still a little disorienting. Truth be told, I completely support Joss's casting since he really knows these actors. The characters did remind me of previous roles they've played, but only because they played those roles so damn well. Reaching out for new actors would've been tricky, especially on a budget of... well, so low I can't find it, since Joss Whedon apparently said, "Whatever you're thinking, it's less." Respect.

Many aspects of the film took a while adjusting to, but it's mostly because of the nature of the film itself. It's in black and white, it's in Shakespearean, it's freaking WES and FRED... But I assure you, I was able to eventually slip into a more relaxed viewing state, not trying to rearrange every sentence to make sense of it. It's like travelling to a foreign country and learning the language by just immersing yourself in the culture, only in about ten minutes. Or five if you actually read Shakespeare and don't cling to your Sparknotes. *somersaults into bomb shelter to avoid the fury of the gods of English literature*

The overall setting was very well done, especially considering it was apparently filmed at someone's house... This may sound easy, but for those professional-looking shots, it takes more than a camera and a house to film. They worked with this aspect very well. As for the setting in terms of story, Joss Whedon does a very nice job mingling time periods and cultural differences. Don't believe me? Watch five minutes of Firefly.

I actually have a gazillion other things to do right now. I swear I planned on a relaxing, stress-free summer, but I've finally proven that it's impossible for me. Point is, I'll talk about one more thing before going back to procrastinating. Which is probably why I'm stressed. No matter.

Unlike this blog, that movie had comedic timing and stunt work that was incredible, especially considering the time spent (twelve days to be exact). It goes to show how mind-blowingly awesome a group of actors is when they spit Shakespeare's lines like they came out of the womb talking like that (albeit there were a few monotone lines toward the beginning), and how the timing was perfect. I literally have nothing to equate it to. I always find some awkward spot in comedic timing in a movie, where someone stands with a blank stare on his face for a millisecond too long, but Much Ado had no time for that (terrible pun intended). There was such a familiarity in those awkward fumblings of Dogberry and Verges, as well as the over-the-top comedy of Beatrice and Benedick that gave me a newfound appreciation for Elizabethan comedy and a renewed appreciation for all things Joss Whedon. I even made the terrible decision last night of going back and watching one of the only Angel episodes where Fred and Wes are together... I won't name names, but I will say that if I watch this particular episode we'll call "A Schmole in the Schworld', my tear ducts will shrivel up and fall out of my eye sockets.

Wait, what? It was a terrible decision because I watched it at 3:00 in the morning, not because of the episode itself! Shame on you... It's never a terrible decision to watch anything by Joss Whedon.

Perks of Being a Wallflower

Before watching this movie, all I knew was that it was a coming-of-age story, and that Emma Watson and Nina Dobrev are in it. That's enough to make me a bit biased when it comes to reviewing it. Then I watched it and decided there's no way I can criticize this movie. So I apologize for all you Negative Nancys out there who really like criticism, but I just have so much good stuff to say about Perks.

Perks of Being a Wallflower is about a boy named Charlie, and how he enters high school a quiet and sad kid with virtually no friends, writing to an imaginary friend. Soon, though, he makes a handful of senior friends who help him adjust to high school. It's the typical coming-of-age tale with overtones of psychological twists and turns, and the little group of friends all go through turning points in their lives as they go off to college or into the next stage of their lives.

Actors, actors, actors. Logan Lerman as Charlie was flawless; that awkward but cute guy thing is hard to pull off! Besides that, though, Lerman does a great job showing those rare moments of emotion that can only appear so many times in a wallflower. Just recently, I watched a video of some Harry Potter actors trying to say things in American accents; Emma Watson was actually pretty bad at it, so considering that video was made only a few years ago, she did an impressive job with it in this movie. There were definitely moments when I suddenly started looking for Hermione, but her acting made up for it. Nina Dobrev, even though she played a relatively small role, did a great job as well. I actually prefer her style of acting with moments of heightened emotion; if you watch this movie, you'll see what I mean when I say that woman can put a hell of a lot of emotion in one very short word. She's definitely had her experience in acting out the more negative side of the emotional spectrum because of The Vampire Diaries, so it was quite a surprise to find out she wants to do comedy sometime in the future.

Within the plot itself, there are two main reasons why I am probably way too biased when I say I loved this movie: I love writing and psychology, and there was plenty of both. I actually just felt the sudden need to buy a nice old typewriter... Just kidding, I just realized how often I use the backspace button. God bless modern technology.

Fun fact: Perks was directed by the same guy who wrote the book. I found this immensely interesting, because the job of a director is to really understand the themes and message of a story, and so you can now rest assured the artistic vision of Perks is consistent throughout the book and the movie. What Stephen Chbosky did was add little snippets throughout the movie that became more important as time went on, which can only really be done by someone with a real understanding of what's going on in the plot and the characters' heads. Visually, some of the camerawork and effects matched perfectly with the mood and atmosphere.

Lastly, going back to the little snippets, this movie took advantage of something that isn't really seen in movies nowadays: implication. Today's films are all about getting raw video and seeing everything, stripping away any visual boundaries and forgetting about emotion in a whirlwind of an overload of images and sound. This is probably because of the availability of more and more technology that can produce more exotic images and sounds. While this can be done artfully and manage not to completely ignore the importance of emotion, sometimes it can lead to the audience not feeling any connection to characters, which defeats the purpose of a good story. In Perks, many things are implied, albeit conveniently because of Charlie's blackouts, but it was nice how they didn't actually film the most explicit parts of the movie. There's a theme of innocence and going back to childhood, and just filming things that are unspeakable to the characters would take away from the themes and the emotion. I'm sure there are people out there who disagree with me, but regardless, I appreciated the power of implication in this film.

Leave comments, suggestions, questions, criticisms, etc.

Dead Poets Society (and other things)

Sorry I haven't been writing lately folks, I've been a little busy... you know, just little things like graduating high school. No biggie.

I've decided not to spend too much time talking about graduation since I really have nothing to say about it other than I feel totally and utterly relieved. I know college will be a lot of work, but for once I'm not thinking about next year's high school activities and classes. Clean slate. Don't get me wrong; I did enjoy high school, but the idea of a clean slate is exciting for me, mostly because I've never had one before. During graduation, I sat next to people I had known since Kindergarten and possibly before, and though I will miss all of the people smiling next to me in the countless photos, it'll be interesting next year.

Wow, look at this. Nostalgia's already made me its bitch.

Anyway, Dead Poets Society, since Joon did request it. I suppose I've been meaning to watch this, especially after I watched a clip of it during Film Studies last year. (Can I call senior year "last year?" This is weird.) Do you ever see something that you don't realize has meaning until later on? I suppose the clip that I watched in Film Studies should've ruined the whole movie for me; if you've watched it before, you'll know it's the one that makes you cry like a baby. I did not cry that day in Film Studies, though, because although it was a very sad scene, there was no background behind it, no context. I didn't understand what was going on, and I didn't think much of it until I watched it again within the movie.

Dead Poets Society is about a snooty American all-boys prep school that teaches boys to conform to societal rules and that they are basically not fit for individual thought until they "become men." Then all of a sudden, along comes Mr. John Keating, the English teacher who shows the boys in his class a different way of looking at the world and at themselves, demanding that they treat their passions with respect and that they "seize the day." It's a back and forth battle between this crushing and ever-pursuing society and the rebellious and ambitious boys, and whether or not society wins is entirely up to you.

As I watched, my Film Studies teacher's slow snarl popped in my head like an informative little commentator, and I remembered what he had said about this movie. The theme is pretty blatantly stated as conformity, or rather the effort of some to destroy it in order to encourage young people to think for themselves. I could see a lot of ways in which this movie could've been aggravatingly cheesy (I almost said "very cheesy" but Mr. Keating would've been quite ashamed), but they somehow avoided these cliches and made a story that will work those tear ducts.

If you've read any of the other blog posts I've written, you'll know that I have some issues with overactive authority figures. This may effect my biased opinion as I tell you to watch this movie nownownow, but I assure you it is a good film. Some of the camerawork was confusing. It was just a little jarring to me, but considering the scenes in which it were jarring, I'd say it fit. The acting, of course, was excellent... for a movie made in 1989. I will warn you that there are cheesy spots, but only the kind to make you smile, not cringe. Unless you don't smile at adorable 1980s romance. Cynic.

Comment on this post or any other if you have a movie or book you want me to review... Otherwise I will consider reviewing Fight Club, Perks of Being a Wallflower, and The Casual Vacancy, which is basically how I spent this weekend. Summer is such a glorious thing.

P.S. Just one more thing. The word "nice" used to mean "stupid." Here's a snippet from www.dictionary.com:

"Nice, it turns out, began as a negative term derived from the Latin nescius meaning “ignorant.” This sense of ignorant was carried over into English, and for almost a century, nice was used to refer to a stupid, ignorant, or foolish person... By the late 1500s, nice was used to describe refined, polite society."

The rest of the article can be found here: http://hotword.dictionary.com/nice-guys/#o1RTQtmw3u3s1XfO.99 

Oh, how did you know I'm an English nerd? What gave it away? The coffee stains? It's always the coffee stains...

Man of Steel!!

You know it's summer and you're a lazy bum when you wake up so late you can't decide whether to eat breakfast or lunch. I just ate so many bowls of cereal.

Last night, I went to see Man of Steel, and it's a good thing I don't do a vlog, because I would be talking so loudly; my ears have been sufficiently blasted. I can't tell if it's just the movie or if the dude controlling the volume at the theater was on drugs or what, because that movie was SO. LOUD... Are there still people who control volume at the theater? I should know these things.

Anyway, before the movie started, there was plenty of time to discuss it and dash all of my hopes and dreams. First of all, I just don't want to hear about Rotten Tomatoes ever again, because Man of Steel got a 59% rating (supposedly it was 55% last night) and even Now You See Me got a measly 48%! And America worries about grade inflation... The second thing was that my friend and I had noticed that the trailer had been very blue. When I say blue, I actually mean the color blue, not the mood. Movies sometimes have theme colors (The Matrix = green, Sweeney Todd = ketchup red), and it would just be a bummer if any movie had blue as a theme color when it's about aliens and superheroes and not very blue things.

The movie was not blue. Sure, there was plenty of it, but not enough to make it the theme color of the movie, so thank goodness. What it was, however, was action-packed. The rhythm of the movie as a whole was nicely done; the first half was a series of flashbacks and random acts of heroics which somehow made sense despite the crazy time jumps. If it hadn't made sense I would be very upset. There are basically five stages of Superman: infant, elementary schoolboy, adolescent, Henry Cavill without the beard, Henry Cavill with the beard.

To a certain extent, I have to agree with some of the critics. I feel terrible, I know, but that dialogue... I tried paying attention to the cinematography, but writing is my first love so it was hard to ignore the quality of writing in this script. There are just... so many lines that should never be used. It also would've been nice to see dialogue in parts where they just had shots of characters' faces. What were they thinking? I have no clue, because all I see are vaguely smiling faces. Or was that a wince? A smirk? I'm lost.

Here's one thing that I noticed A LOT of... Being a huge Joss Whedon fan, I couldn't help but notice all of the actors who had been in Whedon's shows. Amy Adams did show up in a Buffy episode as Tara's cousin, Harry Lennix was in Dollhouse, Tahmoh Penikett was also in Dollhouse, aaand awkward that's it. It probably felt like there were more because of the fact that it was fairly late at night and because Michael Kelly looks like Jeff Ricketts who played the second man with "hands of blue" in Firefly. You don't see the resemblance? I'm not crazy, I swear.

What I did notice right off the bat was how the flying scenes were shot. Joss Whedon did this whole spiel about how when he was making Firefly, he wanted the shots of Serenity to be slightly chaotic, with random zooms and pans that made the whole experience more chaotic. This is exactly what happens in Man of Steel. Every time something was flying, I wanted to lean over to a friend and say "OH MY GOD JOSS WHEDON DID YOU NOT SEE THAT" but of course no one would've heard me over the power of Hans Zimmer.

Speaking of music, one of the friends I sat next to is a HUGE fan of Hans Zimmer, and explained some pretty cool stuff about the technicalities in his music. I didn't understand 90% of it (no offense, it was very interesting anyway) other than "OH MY GOD THOSE TRI TONES" and the difference between Hans Zimmer and John Williams. If you don't know these two real-life superheroes, just know:

Hans Zimmer = Pirates of the Caribbean, The Lion King, Batman (the newer trilogy), Inception.

John Williams = Jaws, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, Superman.

The main difference between them is that you probably have one of John Williams's theme songs stuck in your head right now, whereas when you think of the movies that Hans Zimmer has done, you think intense atmospheric music but wait what was that melody?... I personally like John Williams because I do like having that melody, but Hans Zimmer did a spectacular job with this movie. A spectacular job blowing my ears off, that is. With awesomeness.

Overall, I do recommend you see this movie.

Aaaand that's all I have to say about that because I'm about to go edit a music video that I shot for a friend today!! Hoorah!!! I'll have a link at the ready when it's all done and on YouTube, but for now if you want to check out the musician, April has a YouTube channel here.

P.S. Little did I expect I would actually get a comment on my last post! But I did, so I will be watching and reviewing Dead Poets Society soon. Keep those comments coming if you want more reviews or any other topics covered... Within a range of comfort. I will probably never talk about certain things. Let's keep this PG-13, people.

Damn it, I'm an adult.

First, as promised...

Double rainbow all across the sky-y-y!!

Acid unicorn. On steroids. Oh my god.

I WANT ONE.

Also, in case you were wondering, this apparently exists.

I don't see how this kind of advertising would help...

I'm going to ruin the moment now. Apparently I have issues with authorities and rules. Apparently.

Here in the US, we have that silly little law stating that you are not an adult until you are 18, and you can't earn money online unless you're an adult. I suppose this is a reasonable law considering the government probably doesn't want ten-year-olds selling avalanches of their old matchbox cars and photos signed by Justin Bieber, but lately it's been pissing me off. I've been thinking of all the ways I can possibly save (and spend) a little money before I head off to college, but it turns out that saving part can be difficult, especially since I tend to have gaping holes in my pockets. Darn it, I shouldn't have spent that $1092019 on Unicorn Farts; what was I thinking?? 

If I were 18, I would be able to make money selling old crap on eBay and Amazon, I could write articles for Yahoo as a freelance writer, hell I could even make like five cents a month on this little blog with AdSense. But damn it, I'm 17 so I am an invalid working three jobs over the summer so I don't starve in college. Ok. That was a slight exaggeration since I'm probably going to eat a truckload of food in college, but regardless, that's a lot of money that I could have earned. 

There is that option of mooching off of my parents' accounts, but for all of you out there considering doing any kind of joint account with an adult, just know that it is a total pain in the ass and it takes up way too much of your valuable time, not to mention the transfer of money can become confusing with all of the online payment methods and gimmicks out there. I say this from experience; last year I made a Kickstarter account with a friend of mine to fund a project, and though it sounded so simple at first, when the money started changing hands it was a temporary nightmare and for a few minutes I thought I lost about $2,000. Not good not good not good. 

There are so many solutions out there... Or so it seems. Can't sell things online? Sell them in the real world! All you need to do is just sit at a second-hand clothing shop and watch three people sort through all of your perfectly good slightly used clothing, only to find that they took two out of the twenty items you brought! The best part about this story is how I trudged home with my bag full of new-looking t-shirts that they didn't take when I had just seen a whole rack-full of hideous unwearable clothing. Honest to goodness, I found a cami with shoulder straps so long I could wear a shirt over it and make it look like a skirt. ...how does one even...

No, Early, it really doesn't.

On a happier note, less than twelve more hours until I see opening night of Man of Steel! I is exciteddd. I'll review that, then consider mentioning my mixed opinions about V for Vendetta. Got a movie you want me to review? Mention it in the comments! If you're awesome and check this blog out often and somehow like it, click that awesome little button on the right... The one under "There are no members yet" that says "Be the first!"... I'm worse at advertising than the guy selling Unicorn Farts.

Control Freaks

This post will be particularly hypocritical since I can be a bit of a control freak at times, but for now, let's talk about the control freaks with actual power in this world, therefore excluding myself.

Let me preface this rant by stating that I do believe that for the most part, the education system in America is declining at an alarming rate. Much like control freak-ish governments, the school systems believe that with just one more regulation or rule, everything will be right as rain and all of the problems will be solved. It's as if they've never even heard of thinking outside the box. Sorry to break it to them, but you can't fix motivation levels of students with simplistic incentives. People even tried money and regarding long-term results, it was mostly unsuccessful. I digress.

We, as human beings, tend to like freedom. We enjoy it in this wonderful country of ours, and we tend to get just a little bit upset when that freedom is threatened. Much like the country as a whole, freedom within high school is valued by many, but at this point, there are so many rules and regulations that it's impossible for the administration to even enforce most of it because they don't know what those rules are. The lack of logic in these situations can lead to inconsistent punishments, which can even lead to more discrimination within the school's disciplinary system. There was once a study done by one of the AP Statistics students: random students of various genders and races walk loops around the hallways without a pass to see how many times they're stopped by a hall monitor. It was pretty mind-boggling how many times the black students were stopped compared with the white students or Asian students. Apparently my school is racist after all.

So what is the point of the hall monitors anyway? They are, after all, supposed to stop everyone without a pass in the hallway. If they can't get that straight, what else could go wrong? Every time there's a reminder that there's a dress code, I get very confused. So they're enforcing it now? *walks two feet outside of the classroom* Whoops, I guess not.

Just recently, NY state created a new rule so that students can't enter a testing area with any electronic device on them with huge fines that come with violations of this new rule. The one reason this rule made me laugh was because it includes headphones when they say electronic devices. So I could potentially walk in a testing room with headphones in my pocket and nothing else and get fined thousands of dollars. "Uh, sorry sir, I didn't realize I could get in so much trouble for listening to... oh right, nothing, because headphones don't produce sound." Now, this rule doesn't really make me too upset because there are so many other ridiculous ones, but if I started naming the ones that really get on my nerves, we'd be here much too long.

If you went to high school here in the U.S., most likely you've heard of senior skip day. It's an age-old tradition that's right up there with senior pranks, and I am sad to say I did not participate because I'm paranoid about everything. But see, that's my entire point. There are schools out there that don't let seniors walk at graduation if they participate in senior skip day. I cannot express in words how pointless that is. Yes, you're encouraging your kids to go to school just one more day. Great. Question. What do seniors do in class in the last few weeks of school? Oh, right, NOTHING. Teachers give quizzes and tests on skip day to make sure their kids are in class. They haven't given quizzes in weeks! The entire premise behind these silly little stress-makers is one thing along: control. These people think that it's better to have the tightest grip possible on others so that they're the ones in power. On my list of things that annoy me, this is right up there with young adults who treat me like a two-year-old. Ughhhh. Rantrantrant.

Everybody likes freedom. And adults wonder why teenagers can be so rebellious.

P.S. I apologize for such negativity; I'll try to make my next post about rainbows and unicorns and puppies.

Now You See Me

I will talk about how I'm done with high school once it's actually sunk in that I'm done with high school. It'll probably take a couple weeks at least. For now, it's movie review time.

When I saw the trailer to the movie Now You See Me, I was actually a bit skeptical. I have this fear whenever I see a very cool trailer that it's just because of the music and that the pacing of the actual movie will be different and make me uncomfortable. Who am I kidding; everything makes me uncomfortable.

Here's the short: Four street magicians with very few resources are brought together by a mysterious man who gives them each a tarot-esque card. One year later, they stage three performances, where at each one, a large sum of money is stolen and given to the less fortunate in the audiences. After each one, they manage to piss off three different men who begin to chase after these magicians, trying to learn their tricks and catch them before their next act. Everyone is suspected of being someone other than who they say they are, and intense chase scenes commence until finally, the truth about the magicians is revealed to the audience.

Now, this ending sounds rather boring when you think about it since it seems to wrap up so nicely. But PREPARE TO BE AMAZED. "Because the closer you think you are... The less you actually see." What I particularly enjoyed about this movie was the audience interaction. When I say this, I don't mean the characters are breaking the fourth wall and talking directly to the audience. I'm saying they don't break the fourth wall and they talk directly to the audience. When they say "look closely," they're not just talking to the other characters in the movie. So sit back, try and guess, because suspicion will be everywhere until the very end. I went with a group of friends so I know that I wasn't the only one who was surprised by the ending.

Plot-wise, this movie was amazing and I highly recommend watching it in theaters. With some movies, I can recommend that you go see it, but not necessarily in theaters because it wouldn't make much of a difference. Some movies, though, like this one, are just better on the big screen. Visually, it was captivating, with complex scenes and very nice and somewhat dizzying camerawork. I wouldn't necessarily say I was gripping the edges of my seat, but only because this film provided a different kind of excitement that was more on the intellectual level. It was like Inception with less emotional background and more action scenes, which in some senses was nice.

I believe that in order for me to properly critique this film, I have to give it some actual criticism as well. The characters in this movie have almost zero background, which wasn't bad for the plot, but it was bad for the audience. Background, though it may be inserted into some movies at awkward times and make the audience yawn, can make characters more relatable, therefore making the audience more attached to them. Example #1: (SPOILER ALERT) One of the characters dies. I won't say why, how, when, or who, but I will say that the only reason any of us were sad was because he's cute. That's not a good reason for the audience to be sad.

Second thing I'd like to critique: there's a point to which something can be too fast-paced. Action movies have the luxury of being as fast-paced as they want to be, but for movies involving intellectual backgrounds and subplots, the audience needs a bit more time. Don't get me wrong; I understood what was going on and I'm only a little slow, but there will always be a difference in letting the implications of a gunshot sink in and letting the implications of an underground, historical, and slightly mystical organization sink in. It just allows for the awesomeness (or the lameness) of a plotpoint to be fully appreciated by the audience before moving on to the next mind-blowing scene.

So there it is. If you read this while it's still in theaters, go see it! If not, then watch in on the most high-quality device you or a friend owns because it's certainly worth a cinematic experience. 

Distracted from Distraction by Distraction

I might've mixed the title up; I can never remember how it really goes. Anyways, I apologize for being boring lately, but I've been busy... Having fun... Got back yesterday from the Pocono Valley Resort for my class's senior trip, where I only found out at the end of the day that during the summer, it's a weight loss camp. Makes sense, because I am pooooooped. For one day, though, it was absolutely fantabulous.

I still have lots of work to do, so to keep y'all entertained, I give you my AP Calculus final project. It was super fun to make and hopefully you'll learn something. Whoo yay for entertaining animated stick figures and complex psychological discussions! There's a bit of math in there, too. Kind of.

If you don't know me, chances are you won't get the the little inside joke. You'll know what I mean, unless you too know a Michelle with amazing math notes.

Crap, I just realized you can see who I am at the end of it. Um... That's not me... That's my distant cousin three times removed... Awk.

The Truth About Honesty

Hoorah for a four-day weekend! Everything that would've made me busy today was cancelled so I had the opportunity to waste a little time and watch movies and procrastinate so much that I've forgotten how to type. Seriously. It took me five minutes to type that first bit; sitting around all day does some weird stuff. Anyway, I just finished watching the movie People Like Us. I've been meaning to watch it for a while... I love me some good family dramas.

People Like Us is about a man who's not doing so well with his job. He thinks he is doing well until he destroys his career with a technical error, shooting him into a pile of debt. Meanwhile, his father just died, though this gets an odd reaction from him since the main character (Sam, played by Chris Pine) hated his father as a kid. His father leaves behind a little bag full of $150,000 to give to a nephew he never knew he had, so Sam gets to know his nephew and half-sister without telling them who he really is. There are a ton of subplots too, but I've gotten my main point across.

The real problem with almost all of the characters in this movie is that they lie. I can see their lying faces, and they can see each other's lying faces, but other than getting angry about it, nothing is done to fix the constant lying. It's the whole reason there's a conflict of emotions for Sam and it's why he waited so long to tell his sister about the money.  I realize if he had just been straight with her and told her everything, there wouldn't have been a story, but honestly, it's hard not to think about those kind of things.

Keeping secrets, telling lies, and avoiding people are some of my biggest pet peeves. Mostly, I'm a terrible liar so I avoid it when I can, but when I hear someone talking about waiting until the "right moment," I just want to go up to them and tell them to cut the crap, because there is no singular right moment. There are an infinite number of "right moments." Whether it's telling someone you're their brother and that you've got $150,000 sitting in the car or you're nervous about telling someone that you love or don't love them or anything else, there is no limit to the number of right moments that a person can say these things. I understand that in some cases it's a good thing to wait until there's more information available so you don't go making stupid mistakes caused by a lack of knowledge, but having a secret or keeping up a lie and just telling yourself that you'll come out with the truth later is complete bullshit. 

Lies and secrets are ironically like money in the bank: the longer they're there, the bigger they get, and sooner or later it's going to get out. Only one of those scenarios is good, and we all know it. So what is it that makes us procrastinate when it comes to telling the truth? We know that the lie can only get worse, but we get stuck with it anyway. I guess lying could be compared to avoiding homework or taking out more and more loans from a bank, but unlike those things, you have complete control over the scenario. With homework, your dog could have actually eaten it, and with loans, maybe the bank decides your credit score is questionable, but with lies, it's much harder to lose sight of the truth that you're keeping to yourself. Fear's a big factor in all of this, but it'll be a bigger factor the longer you wait.

Oof... I tried avoiding using "you" to make this not look like it's a personal attack on you lovely readers. I assume nothing! Maybe you've never told a lie in you're life; how would I know? It was just easier for me to write in second person and I'm too lazy to change it. End of lecture. Time to go regain feeling in my legs... and brain.

Time for Some Edumacations

Greetings, strangers! It's certainly been a while. I've been pretty busy... doing nothing. Lucky for y'all, senioritis got so boring that I'd go crazy if I really spent the last few weeks of school sitting around being so unproductive my brain melts and I revert back to being a monkey.

So yesterday I came back from Washington D.C., where I spent three days touring around with some of my friends in the music program at my school. Friday started off with a bang -- I got to see Stephen Schwartz perform and talk onstage at the Kennedy Center, featuring songs in tribute to his successful career. Last year, the music trip was in New York City, where we watched Wicked on Broadway, so it was simply a happy coincidence that I had the opportunity to listen to the composer and overall mastermind behind what I saw last year. Long story short, IT WAS REALLY EXCITING. As a lover of creative processes and writing stories, I was incredibly happy when Mr. Schwartz began explaining how he came up with ideas for Wicked and how the story changed over time. He also played snippets of concepts for songs that never made it in the musical, which was a real treat. Also, for you Smash fans out there (awkward, I'm not one), Jeremy Jordan appeared throughout to sing some of the songs.

Though I did also see Show Boat, a dolphin show, and various museums, I did actually have something I wanted to talk about today. On the bus rides to and from the captiol city, I got super bored so I started reading a book I found called Mirroring People by Marco Iacoboni. Did you know that if you press the palm of a newborn baby's hand, its mouth will instinctively open? This is because our hands and our mouths are controlled by nearby parts of the brain. It's an evolutionary feature of many species that use their hands to eat, which is why we eat with our hands and our dogs and cats do not. Allowing a baby to suck on its thumb is a way of training for bringing food to the mouth.

Ever wondered why we get so emotional during movies? Those guys are fictional; you don't need to cry because they're not really dead! When humans see facial expressions, we literally mimic those expressions with our muscles, sending signals to the brain that recognize the emotions as sad or happy or angry. Put a pencil in between your teeth and try recognizing different facial expressions. It's harder to do, right? The pencil acts as a mental and physical block, disabling your ability to mimic the expression and fully understand the emotion connected with the face being made. Mirror neurons in the brain allow us to recognize any action  that we see or hear. For example, the same part of our brains light up when we type on the computer and when we see or hear someone else typing on the computer. Confused? Awesome.

Speaking of mimicking, humans can pantomime; monkeys, apes, gorillas, and chimpanzees cannot. Pantomiming is using motions to reference an action without actually doing it. For example, air guitar. Even if monkeys could play guitar, they would not be able to understand air guitar because of the absence of the actual instrument.

Basic mimicry is instinct for many species though. Yesterday at the Baltimore National Aquarium, I saw a dolphin show where many of the complicated tricks were achieved through copying exactly what the trainers were doing. This is probably the most basic type of training, since it's natural for animals to imitate those around them, especially trainers with whom they have a stronger bond and relationship. I'm guessing the training to get dolphins to splash the audience takes a lot more time and energy.

Am I boring you yet? Ha, of course not because this stuff is AMAZING. I've laughed and gasped in shock at this book more than I've ever done for a novel. Nerdy? Yes. Unproductive? No.

I have a theory about all of this psychological business. It'll probably be discussed later in the book (I haven't actually finished it yet), so before I ruin it for myself I'll share my thoughts with you guys. This book covers all of the rules that human beings follow regarding feeling empathy and learning through mimicry, but what it hasn't covered yet are the exceptions to the rule. There are people out there who either don't feel empathy or do a darn good job hiding it. Sometimes our anger or hatred can override pity or sympathy, and as I read this book, it suddenly feels like that goes against human nature. We are built as a species to help each other out and understand each others' feelings by showing outward emotion; it's why we blush and cry. How can people possibly not understand another's pain or even cause another's pain? I believe the experiences we have in life (just the really bad ones) can create chemical blocks, preventing our mirror neurons from either working or from sending those little empathy vibes that make us understand one another.

So get those mirror neurons whirring and just be human. It's why laughs are contagious, it's why one Negative Nancy can cast a cloud over a whole group of people, and it's why people in this world can be inspirational and loved. Point is, be happy. Hakuna Matata.

Because APs

So with AP tests coming up in... Oh wow, that's tomorrow? Right-o! Well then! Better get studying!

Just kidding. I'm a second semester senior; it's all good. Anyway, to procrastinate, I've been watching the most random YouTube videos ever. I'm a big fan of humor, and I hope you are too, because I now present to you some of the craziest people I wish I knew. Mostly I was just too lazy to write a lot.

This is me, only with a sip of coffee.

Someday I'll follow their advice and become the best mother ever.

This be mah favorite.

Lemons or Lemonade?

I tried meditating once. Maybe twice. I couldn't sit still long enough, my back couldn't take sitting up straight, and I am not at all a flexible person. It's just not my thing. I also tried yoga in gym class a while back... I fell down a lot.

What's the point? I consider myself to be a fairly happy person, though that might be because I know so many high-strung people. All I do is just relax and take things for how they are. You can call this being satisfied with mediocrity, but you can also take it for always having lemonade and not lemons. Plus all that stress kills, literally. You don't need meditation or yoga or therapy (usually) to be a happy person. I'm saying "happy" because I wouldn't normally be characterized with the word "calm." Energetic, perhaps?

People stress over what they want too much. Goals are great to have, but I've always viewed them in a different light. On the varsity swim team, my coach would always tell us not to have a goal time to achieve, because it could set us back. It's just the wrong way to look at things -- you should be focused more on how to get better, rather than what to get better at. Sometimes, we get so stuck on our goals that anything below it crushes our confidence and sets us back emotionally, which is no good at all.

At this point, talking about college applications is simply unavoidable. Earlier this school year when I was sending out my 1298722394 applications, spending approximately $394872349712948712312, I had my heart set on Yale University (that part wasn't a joke... awkward). As unrealistic as it may seem now, I really thought I would give it a shot, and I spent so much time and energy doing interviews, writing essays, and just meeting with people. The whole time, I told myself in the back of my mind that I could not get emotionally attached to the idea of going to this crazy-hard-to-get-into school because of the huge chance that I wouldn't get in. Unfortunately, I'm only human, so I didn't follow my own advice and was pretty heartbroken when I got my rejection letter, even if I was expecting it.

After a lot of stress and demoralization with a stack of rejection letters piling up to remind me how much I should've studied in the past four years, I was accepted at Fordham University. At first, all I could see were lemons -- I had seen the city campus once and hated it because I absolutely need to be on an actual campus with some kind of grass or tree in sight. Turns out that what I had seen was Lincoln Center, but I'm going to Rose Hill which is GORGEOUS, and as I looked at the school more and more, I could definitely see how this could make great lemonade (terribly cliche metaphor I'm so sorry). I'm going to the Big Apple next year! *squeals* Honestly, at this point, Fordham looks like it's going to be way more fun and filled with opportunity than if I had gone to any of the other schools at which I was either rejected or accepted, and I could not be more happy about where I'm going next fall. Pretty much the only thing I'm worried about is my sense of direction. The second I'm outside the campus, I will either have my nose stuck in my GPS app or my arms clinging for dear life to a friend. 

Am I settling for something less than I wanted, or am I just living in the moment and not worrying about the opportunities I might have had? Being an optimist, I tend to lean toward the second option, and though it's not like I have no regrets in life, I like to think that only caring about what's certain and beneficial to your emotional, spiritual self can make life so much more stress-free and prevent the past from haunting or nagging at the present. To those out there who feel like they're stuck in the past or feel too stressed about what they could've had but didn't get: take a deep breath. Or twenty. To continue with my lemonade theme here, Elizabeth Gilbert (author of Eat, Pray, Love) said, "If life gives you lemons, don't settle for simply making lemonade -- make a glorious scene at a lemonade stand."

Why I Would Make a Terrible Critic

So I'm not sure whether to apologize for not writing recently or to note that I've been writing a lot more than I have in the past... I hope you're all enjoying these posts regardless. Now, on to self-criticism!

I like to think of myself as an optimist. The fact that I have to consciously think of the glass as half-full does not make me believe that I really am an optimist, however. That is, until AP Literature class one day. We were analyzing poetry by Sylvia Plath, specifically the poem titled "Child." For reference (and because it's short), here it is:

Child

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose name you meditate --
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

 

From left to right: April snowdrops and Indian pipes. In case you were wondering.

While analyzing this in class, I noted that the last stanza could be interpreted to be a mother expecting a child. Get it? An anxious expecting mother wringing her hands, the unborn child with the mother's womb as a starless sky... Truth be told, I realized this really didn't make much sense in the context of the whole poem, but I often think on my feet and make no sense during class, so it's fine. I also realized that it had been mentioned beforehand that Sylvia Plath is one of the most depressing people/poets in history, having committed suicide with her children in the same house at the time. That said, it's not a simple thing to interpret one of her later poems as something innocent like a baby waiting to be born.

Then it hit me -- I must be an optimist! I have officially qualified by my own standards to start referring to myself as an optimist, and I'm probably way too proud of that. Judge me, it's totally fine.

I've always believed that our personalities aren't determined by nature or nurture, but a combination of both, along with a will to become whoever we want to be. Besides those who are medically unable to change their outlook on life, people are generally capable of changing their beliefs, their personalities, and their ambitions, which gives the opportunity to be able to have control over their lives if they want it badly enough. Isn't that such a reassuring thought? Anyway, point is, achievement unlocked: naturally optimistic thoughts. I just gave myself brownie points in celebration. And chocolate almonds.

Looking back at the title of this post, I just remembered my actual point. Back to being optimistic now, I'd like to note that when I started this blog, I had originally intended to do a lot more film and TV show reviews. What I realized, however, is that a lot of good critics of everything are harsh and blunt about what they think. Being an optimistic person, I always look for the good things of a movie. I know several people who would make excellent critics (and I mean this as a compliment) because of their good eye for the not-so-great things that stand out in a movie, TV show, or book. I gloss over that stuff, and because of that, I make a pretty crappy critic. I can't even critique my own work, which is why all you're reading right now is a first draft of my spewed, disorganized thoughts. You're welcome.

Happy Monday everyone!

This guy is more optimistic than I will ever be. Honestly, who loves Mondays this much? That's right: no one.

The Host

Since I obsessed about the trailer to The Host earlier in this blog, I figured I should probably tell y'all what I thought of it.

First of all, I'd like to note that I really don't like awkward silences. Watching the Twilight movies made me cringe mostly because of the general lack of dialogue. In real life, I tend to make sure there are no silences in my life. Period. It's pretty terrible when I start filling silences which are not at all awkward with word vomit. Sometimes I even make up words like I'm doing scat or something. Skidilee dooo dat. Aweroh. Eewef. Fgie.

I feel like there's so much that happens within the silences that happen in the movies based off of Stephenie Meyer's books (or at least there should be), but none of the directors know how to implement those happenings, so they just leave it as awkward silence. There is a timing in many movies that can make silences suspenseful, scary, sad, and a whole lot of other "s" words. Awkward does not start with an "s," so clearly, there is a problem here. This was just about the only thing that bugged me throughout The Host.

I lied. Do you remember that ad for the Superbowl this year for GoDaddy.com? You know, the really uncomfortable one where "beauty meets brains," where all you can hear and see are two people making out. Lovely. Now get a room. Same kind of feel here in the movie, though to a much much much lesser degree. There are ways of making love seem romantic without constant make-out sessions. Just saying. Now to happy stuff!

The cool concepts, the action scenes, and the well-shot scenery definitely made this movie worth watching. I think us movie-goers take scenery shots for granted nowadays since they're much more easily accessible with the technology available (and green screens allow us to be anywhere from underground to outer space), but there are ways of shooting (or digitally creating) scenery that do not make them visually pleasing, so kudos for the camera crew of The Host for making a desert look cool.

I'm conflicted over how I feel about the acting. It was good... But not great. I always feel like I have to respect actors who do their own stunts, and Saoirse Ronan did a very nice job with hers, as per usual. I think this was a good movie for her in terms of showing more emotion, but I guess that's because the only other movie I've watched with her in it was The Lovely Bones, where she's kind of... dead. Dat accent though. They should've just rewritten the character to have an Irish accent. Oh well; both she and Max Irons had very nice American accents. Go 'murica.

Overall, The Host was preeeeetty good. Not my favorite, but it was just about as good as I expected it to be. I might've cried a little... Psh I cry during every movie who am I kidding. I even cried during the Hannah Montana movie, although that was because a fly had flown straight into my eye. Flying as fast as he could away from the screen I'm guessing. I almost forgive the little guy. That reminds me of that time when I was biking and a huge house fly got jammed inside of my eye socket and started whizzing around. It was like a freaking horror movie where flies start possessing people and shit. I was mostly crying out of panic. That was a really weird tangent. Anyway, watch The Host, don't watch horror movies, and avoid those big-ass flies. Or do whatever you want. It's pretty much my new motto anyway.

Prayer.

For the victims of the explosions in Boston, I pray that the injured may find comfort in the midst of pain and shock, and that the families of the deceased may be kept safe and supported within their communities as they endure the evil in this world. 

For those who do not take this tragedy seriously, I pray that someday they will see how much others are hurt by injustice and senseless acts of terror and that they will join the rest of us as we pray and act toward bringing about a less horrific world.

And for the rest of you out there, I pray we all get to live in a safer world someday, where the acts of the billions of good people finally drown out the few of the bad and eliminate those actions to the fullest extent possible.

Because it's relevant.

So I meant to include in my last post about the value of things, but I completely forgot about it until now, so here we go.

I teach swim lessons at my local YMCA. I've been working there for more than a year now, and every day I see these kids ages 3-12 who give me these hilarious and adorable stories to tell. Lately, though, I've been noticing a lot of sassy and spoiled kids. As a kid, I remember being terrified if an adult became angry with me! Now I have kids in my class who look at me and deliberately do the opposite of what I told them to do just to piss me off, I swear to God. Someday, one of them is just going to give me the finger and do a backflip into the water. Kids these days...

When I used to take swim lessons at the same ol' Y with my little brother, my mother would take us down to Target to buy a little toy every time we moved up a class. Lemme tell you, this was never an easy feat! I remember being flipped around my instructor's arm in front of the whole class because I was just so damn scared to do it by myself. Anything for a new box of LEGOs. Anything.

I thought for sure that all of the parents in the world had just stopped doing this. All I hear nowadays is "My mommy says if I jump in the water, I get a phone!" WHAT. STOP. LITTLE CHILD, YOU ARE SEVEN. Unless they mean this, in which case, way to go parents:

They probably don't even sell these anymore. The shame...

So I was sitting in the office one day, just munching on my millionth Tootsie Roll of the day, when a little girl rushes in with her  instructor (rushing because everything -- the water, the air, the souls of some of the children -- are ice cold), who gives her a high-five and a mini Tootsie Roll. This girl's face just LIT UP. I mean who knows, maybe she's never ever had a Tootsie Roll in her life. The kid ran outside to her mother, to whom my co-worker explained that she had just jumped into the water by herself at the deep end for the first time ever. Now the mother's face lit up, and she started rushing her kid into the locker room, saying, "I'm so proud of you! Ok, let's get you dressed so we can buy you a WHOLE SODA." Whoa. Slow down there. A WHOLE soda? Not like, just a little sip or anything? BEST DAY EVER. The kid looked like she was going to explode. All of a sudden, I felt like the spoiled little kid (didn't stop me from eating 5,000,000,00 more Tootsie Rolls though).

To all those people out there who think that not giving a child everything he/she wants is a crime, go on raising your little army of Dudley Dursleys, not letting them appreciate the simple things in life. See if I care. Actually, I might, since I might end up teaching them in my next class. 

Why? Because it's relevant. Kind of.

It's All About Perspective

Warning: Many many nerdy and confusing moments in this post. Bear with me. Or you could just go eat a pie. I don't know, do whatever.

In my AP Literature class, we've been reading the book Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Basically, it's about a girl named Tess who is stripped of her innocence because she is essentially raped by a creepy and mustached man named Alec who leaves her to raise a child on her own. She names the child Sorrow shortly before it dies, and goes to work on a dairy farm. While there, she meets handsome and chivalrous Angel, and the two fall in love. D'aw. She agrees to marry him, happy happy, then she marries him, happy happy, and all of a sudden, he falls out of love with her when she tells him about her illegitimate child, depressing depressing.

After all of these things happen, Tess is eventually stuck on her own, and has a tricky little encounter with a tricky little man, and she ends up sleeping in the woods in a nest of leaves. When she wakes up, she finds these injured birds who were shot but not killed, lying around in the woods. As she looks at them, all she can think of is how she was so foolish to think that her emotional pain was so terrible when these birds are dying. Now, considering what her life has been like, I wanted to just tell Tess, "So, hon... It's ok to feel a little stress if you're you. Don't you worry about those birds."

It's all about perspective. The value of objects can be predetermined by monetary or sentimental value, but don't let that fool you. Things change, and perspective can bring the importance of things in or out of focus. Something that's been on my mind is oddly... my phone case. My brother bought me a shiny new green phone case for Christmas since he knew I wanted a new one. The old one was just part of the package when I got my phone, but it was a good $30 at least (probably actually $20 because of a sale), and no one noticed it. It was black, boring, but it did its job. Now, as for this new shiny case, all of a sudden I got little comments left and right. Looks very sleek. Cool. I like the design. I knew that my brother had paid probably a maximum of $10, which gave me the idea in my head that it wasn't worth that much. But every time someone asks where I got my phone case, I'm more and more eager and happy to tell them that my awesome li'l brother bought it for me as a present.

In the book Sway: The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior, there's a whole chapter dedicated to the idea of first impressions. For any human mind, the first impression is always the strongest, and almost impossible to shake. It effects draft picks, job interviews, college interviews, etc. (so now you've been warned). My dad, who's the principal of a firm, knows when he's found a new employee within the first five minutes that they're in his office, because of the impressions they make just with their body language and their manner. I was particularly bothered by this chapter, because although I know it's basic human nature, there's always some part that wants to give people, ideas, and objects a second chance, to try and make up for a bad first impression. I'd like to think of any major change in someone or something as a second first impression (yeah that totally makes sense), and that opinions can fundamentally, 100% change, whether it be for better or worse. Unless someone is stubborn. Stubborn people are just... Outliers. Do whatever the hell you want.

Crap. I need to stop pretending to be an intellectual. I'll draw really bad cartoons or something next time. Anyway, bottom line is: try giving something a second chance. Especially if it changes your opinion of something for the better.

The Art of BS

My posts are beginning to become more and more profane, and I really can't decide if this is a bad thing or not. Anyway. Sorry I haven't been blogging in a while! I guess my life's just been too boring to even talk about... I might cry.

First of all, I'd like to give a huge shout-out to those who performed at my school's Cabaret Night last weekend. I say this incredibly awkwardly since I also performed on Saturday, but sure I'll give myself a shout-out I guess. For trying.

So on Friday, I had to sing for my church at the Stations of the Cross. It was a small event, and I don't get really get nervous about singing with my mom in the audience since she hears me banging on the piano every single day. Nevertheless, about five minutes before I had to get up and sing "O Sacred Head Surrounded," my heart just plummeted. I don't think I would feel like that if someone punched me in the stomach and whacked that place right under the knees where the doctors hit to test your reflexes (In case you were wondering it's called a saphenous nerve. Oh, only I was wondering? Well, fine.) Now there are two kinds of butterflies that can inhabit your stomach: the nice kind of butterflies that you get when you see someone you really like (d'aww) or the nasty, carnivorous, evil, and viscous kind that you get if you get extreme stage fright. I have extreme stage fright. If I didn't, I'd be bothering you with a vlog instead, making awkward faces and stuttering a lot.

While I was singing for the Stations of the Cross, I realized toward the very end that I had completely forgotten the words of the last line. So guess what I did? Well of course I made it up! When I looked back at the line, I was almost impressed myself- the line had made sense in the context of the song. Yay me. I can successfully and quickly BS things on a second's notice. Be proud. Anyway, nobody noticed, which is why I say I was successful, and thought for a moment that my stress was out of the way.

The next day, I realized I was not at all prepared for Cabaret Night. My butterflies had evolved into writhing, hairy monsters (do you like the imagery?), and it took me three times to try and get a full run-through of "Learn to be Lonely" to not end up with my palms on the piano in exasperation. Angst angst angst. When I finally arrived at sound check, I realized I had forgotten my music, and that I couldn't go back home since my parents were out of town. I REALLY need to get a license. I reassured everyone that I had memorized the piece and that I would be fine, when secretly I was about to pee myself in fear. I had learned a lot about positive mental images before a race or performance, so I guess it was already a bad sign that the only image that I could conjure in my mind was one where I lay on the floor in a fetal position, crying. So much for trying to be an optimist. Luckily, I only messed up about five measures. YAY!! I just completely stopped playing, and all I can remember is my mouth open, praying to God that people can actually hear my singing, and OH THERE'S THE CHORD, DAMN IT. With a lot more cusses.

Point is, I hate stage fright. Time to go curl up into a fetal position and get some insecticide for my stomach. And when I say insecticide I mean snickerdoodles.

Crime-Fighting With Sassiness

So instead of watching the Super Bowl Halftime Show, I'm blogging. Yes, I'm that person. Besides, I don't really want to go downstairs and be around three teenage boys who just finished off a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew in less than half an hour... Never mind they just came upstairs. There is no escape.

Where was I? Right. Crime-fighting. So when it comes to TV shows, I become so obsessed with some that I do nothing else for the next few weeks except watching that show and the occasional homework. It's extremely unhealthy and I do not recommend it. It's also the reason I never started watching Doctor Who. Just recently, though, I found that the first three seasons of the show Castle is on YouTube, so I braced myself for a long few weeks.

Basic Summary: Castle is a show about a best-selling author, Richard Castle, who has just killed off the main character in his latest set of novels. In need of some inspiration, he starts following around Detective Kate Beckett after he's needed to help solve a case of a triple-homicide based on some of his earlier books. At first Castle's allowed to hang around the 12th Precinct because he's buddies with the mayor of NYC, but then he eventually stays because of the friendships he's made with the detectives and mortician (d'aww).

If you don't watch Castle, and you are interested in good acting, or good plotlines, or good crime-solving, or good anything, then check it out. Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic have some of the best on-screen chemistry that I have seen in a while, and the entire cast just makes me smile. :) It's unfortunately all too common to have a show with all good actors with such good chemistry with some awkward main character in the middle of all the awesomeness. At first, I had my doubts about Molly Quinn (who plays Castle's daughter Alexis), but she's proved to be just as capable as the other actors on the show.

SPOILER ALERT. (hint hint watch the show now hint hint)

One thing I've noticed with these popular shows is that there's usually some sexual tension involved. This makes it extremely difficult for writers because of the nature of television shows, because they can do one of two things: they can either make the characters realize this tension that they have and... have a good time... OR, they can just drift apart because they can't just stick with that tension forever. The show would become boring, the jokes would become old, and the characters would stop being so dynamic. The second unfortunate truth about this kind of show is that either way, everybody loses because then there's no show.

...Or is there? Here's a classic example of avoiding this problem: In Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy and Angel started off with a lot of this tension that the writers weren't sure people would like. Once the fans reacted, they decided to keep Angel on the show, but all of a sudden, he and Buffy are suddenly so in love, everything is happy and beautiful and right in the world... So BAM, they have sex and Angel becomes an entirely different person because of a mysterious gypsy curse. Joss Whedon, with all of his genius, makes it physically impossible for Angel to have one truly happy moment without becoming evil. There's always some hope, because otherwise the fans would just cry of disappointment all the time. Good shows make fans cry only once in a while.

I find it hilarious when I see these tweets (yes, I have Twitter) about how "Omigosh those two are toootally gonna get together at the end of this episode" or "Why can't So-and-so and So-and-so just realize they're perfect for each other??" because I know that the exact opposite is about to happen. The writers just have to throw in some monkey wrench in there so people keep watching the show. When I tell my cousin what I think will happen next in The Vampire Diaries, 10 times out of 10 she disagrees with me and 9 times out of 10 I'm right. So there.

Back to Castle, here's where I really should've put the spoiler alert. So yes... Castle and Beckett are a thing. Caskett. Stana Katic (Beckett) apparently ships Caskett even harder than some of the fans, which is something I've never heard of before. (Also related to real life, "Richard Castle" actually wrote a couple books! Heat Wave, Naked Heat, Heat Rises, and Frozen Heat are all New York Times Bestsellers and available at a bookstore near you. I just read that in my head in a very deep male voice.) Caskett could've been awkward, and fortunately there are no magical curses that turn Castle the wise-ass into Castle the asshole, so the writers did something completely different -- They continued the sexual tension as the whole audience watches knowing that they just got out of bed. There's even an episode where they literally take turns cockblocking each other with their obsessive crime-solving habits. I appreciate the genius so much. I also apologize for making this post a little inappropriate...

So there you have it. Watch the show. Stop reading this right now and just watch it.

I'll try not to digress so much in my next post. So thanks for readinSQUIRREL.

On a More Serious Note (WAY More Serious)

Bear with me, this is serious but also very important. Listen up! Or rather read up... Even though that's not a phrase.

About a week ago, I was reading some newspaper or magazine (I think it was either the New York Times Magazine or The Economist), and I read an article about a 23-year-old rape/murder victim in India. It's sparked a massive debate throughout the world about the lack of action in the southern Asian countries when it comes to public humiliation and rape.

Tonight, there was a vigil held on the Cornell campus to honor this woman and to discuss what can be done to prevent these awful occurrences from happening. I initially went because my friend's mother asked if I could bring a bass drum down and keep a beat as a group of about maybe thirty or forty people sang both "We Shall Overcome" and a traditional Indian song. I don't know what it's called, but the whole beginning was so solemn. It definitely made me think twice about grinning and waving as I saw a few of my friends there as I most often do.

For the next hour and a half, around ten people went up to a podium and spoke about the issues surrounding rape. My friend's mother was the first to speak, and introduced the problems that the world is facing (yes RIGHT NOW), and called for justice for those dead or injured because of abuse. Justice, not revenge.

After her, a South Asian History professor from Cornell spoke, and what she said really hit home for me. Her basic point was that all of us walk around every day thinking none of these bad things will happen to us because we would never be out that late, or we would never dress like that, etc. So here's the problem: this woman who was brutally murdered was attacked on a public bus in a major city while with her boyfriend. Does this scenario sound familiar to any of you? Scary, no? I immediately thought back to a few days ago when my dad told me something that happened years ago. I had gone to a friend's house for a sleepover on the badish side of town. He figured it'll be ok, the neighborhood doesn't look too bad. So here I am, years older, and I just found out that the very same night there was a murder in someone's house three blocks down. This is scary business, people... I also thought of a story from Calvin and Hobbes when the family comes back from a wedding to find that their house had been robbed.

Yes, I was a Calvin and Hobbes fan.

When I first walked into the room where the vigil was taking place, I was surprised to see a mix of races there (I had looked at the invite list on Facebook... All Indian people), but also glad. One student, a Canadian with roots in China, actually read an episode from The Vagina Monologues, talking about the brutality and wrongness of rape with a few added statistics on the side. One billion women in the world have been sexually abused. That's one in three women. That's a LOT of people, and that doesn't even include the men and children.

Know your facts. Raise awareness. Aaand that's about as much seriousness as I can take.

New year, same old stuff

So now that I've looked back on my last post and realized it was basically all ranting, I'm going to provide you with an actual review of Les Miserables. GET EXCITED.

Watching Les Mis was like drinking a cup of coffee. For me, drinking a regular cup o' joe is a little similar to drinking something more like this:

When I first drink coffee, all I get is bitter taste, and it lasts me the entire cup (or abnormally large bowl-like container). Then, as I'm sitting in class, waiting to finally feel awake and on top of things, all I can think about is how much I need to pee (unfortunate but biologically inevitable). Finally, when I'm least expecting it, BAM. That darn tapping foot sneaks up on me to give me a thirty second warning that I'm about to start bouncing off the walls. So why do I drink coffee? The world may never know. (Speaking of which, if you immediately recognized that last sentence because of a tootsie pop commercial, you may still be wondering how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop. The general consensus places an average around 600-800. You're welcome.)

So going back to Les Mis, here's what I thought. In terms of filmmaking, the beginning was rocky. The camera angles and weird switches made me a little uneasy, but I suppose it was for an intended effect. In any case, I assumed someone would understand it, and continued watching the movie with a little more cynicism. All of a sudden, there are a bunch of raggedy old men pulling HUGE ropes (as in, not the kind you'd read about in Fifty Shades of Grey. Not that I read Fifty Shades of Grey.), singing about looking down. This is when I first started regretting having little background with the story, because literally all I could understand were the two words "LOOK DOWN." On the positive side, though, this was the first I saw of an incredible display of costumes, hair, and makeup. One thing that really stood out, especially because of the director's apparent obsession with close-ups, was that no one had perfect teeth! Brownie points to Tom Hooper for historical accuracy. In case you were wondering, the beginning was coffee's bitter taste... with a little hazelnut flavoring (love that stuff).

If you're wondering how I'm going to make a vague analogy to the middle of the movie with my need to pee after drinking coffee, don't you worry. I actually needed to go (can I say that on a blog? I guess I'll find out one way or another). There was a lot of emotional singing from Hugh Jackman, and I really wish I could have started feeling emotionally attached at that point, but... I didn't. Don't worry, it becomes important later on in the story, and the emotions are magnified to level "unbearable." It's wonderful (but actually).

The tears started to fall when Anne Hathaway sang "I Dreamed a Dream," which was inevitable. When I saw the first trailer for the movie, when she sang through most of the song, that was when I decided that I would become extremely excited about this film. In all seriousness, what really made this movie memorable was the acting. Not the singing, sad to say, because I do think they could have picked up fresh new singers like they did for film version of The Phantom of the Opera, but then again, the acting talent would have become a huge risk factor, so I'm glad they stuck with people like Catwoman, Wolverine, Bellatrix Lestrange... Oh wait I mean...

Referring to my previous post, I liked Russell Crowe as Javert. Sorry?... Seriously, though, if you think about it, there are people who really just can't sing. Crowe can sing!! His voice just isn't exactly one of an angel, but I thought it fit his part well because of how he portrayed such a gruff and determined man, so although his voice is a big grating or barking, I liked how it built on the character.

Finally, I'd like to talk about the whole metaphorical bouncing off the walls part of the movie. If you haven't guessed, my emotions were what were going nuts, because after Hathaway's little song, almost everything was worthy of enough bawling to fill my empty bag of chips with tears. I'll let you guess how big the bag of chips was. There were happy moments and lovable moments, but mostly it was TEAR-JERKING, MIND-BOGGLINGLY BITTERSWEET MOMENTS OF SADNESS. If maybe half of this cast gets back together and does another sad movie, I'll come prepared with a box of tissues. I thought just going to the theater sans makeup would be enough, but I was so wrong. I'd also like to mention the amount of respect I have for Tom Hooper and his brilliant idea of recording everything live. Yes. You heard me. If you didn't already know, here's an interesting fact: None of the singing you hear on that big screen is coming from a studio. Every emotion, pause, and slight break in voice (if they're crying) is the real deal that they recorded during the filming and simply makes everything raw and natural.

For people who don't like ramblings and long explanations... Why are you on my blog? Just kidding, but here's a basic overview of my opinion in number-speak. The ratings are out of 10:

Acting: 9.999999999999 (well I mean they're not robots)
Music: 9
Directing: 10 (because Tom Hooper is obviously a robot)
Editing: 7
Mise en scene (cinematography): 8
Costumes, hair, and makeup: 10 (they're also robots)

I would put an enticing little "Next Up:" thing here, but I usually rebel against myself and decide to write about something else.

Next Up: The world may never know.