2009

It's been a while, but I couldn't resist making my own list of 2009 (everyone else is doing it). Don't worry, I have much to post about my Christmas break...

But for now. My personal list of 2009, in no particular order:

1. Lakers 2009 NBA Champs

2. H1N1 = Swine Flu

3. Trip to New York with the orchestra

4. 2008-2009 OSAA State Champs

5. Confirmation

6. Grand Canyon (I basically died)

7. Prom

8. CF Concerto Competition

9. YMA

10. New Violin

11. Hercules gets lost

12. SATs

13. iPhone 3GS

14. Bejeweled

15. Yogurtland

16. UP

17. Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs

18. Jetskiing at Lake Powell

19. Pirate's Booty Cheese Puffs

20. to be continued...

Christmas Spirit

Lately, I have been ridiculously overwhelmed (as the last week before Winter Vacation usually is). Having some sort of activity or winter concert on everyday, I've hardly had any down time, and usually when I do get a break, I spend it strategically...sleeping (gearing up for the long nights). *Jenny and I are often able to come to school, look at eachother, and estimate approximately how many hours of sleep the other got (not much). Needless to say, I've noticed and observed the heightened shopping frenzy, Christmas decorations, and holiday spirit around me, but have been isolated on my own "tornado of life" island. Don't get me wrong, I love the smell of Christmas trees, hot cocoa and candycanes, but I just haven't been able to embrace it. While it does bother me that I can't sit in front of the fire and sing carols, I know that I haven't "lost Christmas" as it sometimes seems. All of these characteristics of Christmas, visible everywhere (starting in September in some places), are not "Christmas" in any sense. Christmas is the celebration of Jesus' birth and everything He has done for us. Christmas is sharing love and joy with people you love. Christmas is spending time with family. I DO have Christmas spirit!

On a side note, I found out that my closest resident friend from the care home passed away a couple of weeks ago. While it saddens me that I won't be able to listen to Tony's stories anymore, I am glad and thankful that he can reunite with his wife and Savior during this Christmas time. When all is said and done in April, I will definitely post my commonapp essay in celebration of Tony.

My first application story.

This story takes place in a Salem home in a small room mostly on December 1st. Now December 1st happened to be my first due date for the Rice application (only one of my top choices-no pressure). And by that point, I had already confirmed that the application was due no later than 11:59 ON 12/1 and not 11:59 on 11/30. I had also written 3 legitimate-long essays and 6 annoying short answer responses, all of which I could probably almost recite by memory (side note/advice: asking for people to proofread/edit is often helpful, but make sure you don't go crazy and get conflicting advice. If you don't like an edit, don't change it. stay true to yourself. i did). Anyways, bottom line was that I had already spent a hefty amount of time on this application. Now it was just editing and making last minute changes for like 5 hours after school. And then, I discovered that the "Rice signature box" was not a signature box rather a "signature of Rice" - box. FAIL. I had simply scanned my literal signature. Apparently it was supposed to be something rather creative and well thought out. It's now 8:00pm. Ahhhhh. *cue crazy collage making*  *Still editing and checking over the commonapp* a rather large amount of time passes...let's say...11:00. "Phew, okay the box is done and uploaded." Last time to check over the general information and essays. Ahhhh, why would I even write that? Frantic editing. 11:30 - Getting ready to submit the commonapp. Okay Mom and Dad come and gather around the computer and I press the ominous "submit" button (probably trembling a little). *Celebration* and then the next page loads... it reads... "application submitted December 2nd" in red letters. FAIL. Why is everything important on Eastern Time??? *cue terrible thoughts and profanity* I angrily submit the supplement at 11:40, also on Dec. 2nd apparently. FAIL. I don't think I slept, at all. First thing in the morning I called the office of admissions about my Dec. 2nd tragedy and a lady nonchalantly calmed me down and said "it wasn't a big deal." And that, my friends, is the end. 

Current news:

Greg Oden injured his knee and will be out all season, again. Sorry Blazer fans.

We got our Christmas Tree today.

Saint Saens is kicking my butt.

Blog Stew.

I've had a few post-worthy experiences lately, but have delayed posting them for a bubbly blog stew (possible laziness):

First things first...Last weekend I took part in one of the coolest yet stressful yet inspiring concerts. Playing with the Salem Chamber Orchestra wouldn't have been so scary if they hadn't had me play the solo quartet part in Bloch's Concerto Gross(o) # dos. Strangely, the first concert (why these people have two back-to-back concerts I don't know) went rather well, but the second concert on Sunday was, well, not as good (to say the least). Oh well, I guess it was fun. A week later, and I still haven't touched my violin...awesome.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Which means today is Black Friday. Not to break tradition, Mom and I perused the newspaper ads last night, making lists and having mild freak-outs as to why were so crazy (more from mom), and got up at 4:30am to drive into the Target parking lot as the line, curled around the block multiple times, began moving into the store. Mom and I were as hardcore as you can get without camping out/standing in line. We thought it'd be most effective if we split up as soon as we entered (no carts or baskets). I headed straight for the home appliances while Mom manned the electronics. By 5:30 we were in the express lane, ready to check out with our lists crossed off. Quite the success if I do say so myself. Then after a quick trip to Macy's, we retired home by around 6:30am and it was back to bed for me. 

Now I'm home, back in my pajamas, relaxing the break away...aka writing more college essays, surprise! Bahhh. more later. 

College Apps

Stress. I constantly find myself being pulled towards my blog every time I have to start/edit a college essay. And frankly, the blog has been helping me so much: an outlet for frustration, a flashback into what's important and how far I've come, a place to write in "proper-admissions-essay-speak," etc. So here I am again, trying to gear myself up for editing my commonapp essay and start on some supplements. Sometimes I wish I could just submit my blog instead. It tells so much more without the "perfect bow tied around the essay telling why I am the perfect person/student." Throughout the application process, my biggest fears have been of not being true to myself, or writing what I think these college people want to read. Hence the increased number of posts lately... It keeps my real. It keeps me, me. So I'm off to write, hopefully not some mindless crap (although this is highly likely), more essays for college. 

Here's my finalized list of colleges> Rice, Duke, Pomona, Claremont McKenna, U of Notre Dame, Emory, and Pepperdine.

Perspective

Although I like to believe that the world continues to somehow, mysteriously center around my little routine life in Salem, OR, I am always reminded in strange ways of my ridiculous naivety. The other day, I found myself in an Emergency Conference for nurses, medics, EMTs, and PAs. I showed up early to volunteer, which basically meant that I stood at a desk and checked people in, handed out agendas, and free crap. After the initial volunteering, I was shown into the auditorium at Salem Hospital where the only empty spots were in the very front row by the speaker's podium. Awesome. So myself and two other volunteers uncomfortably sat down in the front row and waited for the first speaker to be introduced: a trauma surgeon at Salem Hospital with a presentation on "Massive Emergency Management" which was basically prioritizing patients/injuries as pertaining to her time in the War in Iraq. Her slideshow was full of her personal pictures of the facilities in a mini-hospital (a glorified tent in the middle of the desert, equipped with tables strangely fit for surgery). Although, her and her team were forced to make due with the barest of the bare minimums in equipment, they were able to temporarily save soldiers until they could be transported to the bigger hospital. The team often wore shorts and scrubs into surgery due to the 140 degree weather. She basically slept amidst a bunch of materials in a defensive barrack under ground. And yet was so passionate about the work she did and her part in fighting for the country. At the beginning of the presentation, she initially stated that there was no need to discuss the politics behind the war. She was there, and she would save lives. End of story. This was an extremely powerful and intriguing presentation that really knocked some needed perspective into my life (regardless of my hectic due dates and college apps). I couldn't help but envy her, but at the same time feel extremely blessed to have so many people across the ocean fighting and protecting those back home. And I can only pray for the safety of these courageous men and women. 

Why Hello November.

I have this strange and worrisome feeling that I'm going to have one of these "monthly" blog posts every month until it's an "Oh My June..." But really, while the hours often seem to be an eternity, the days are truly flying by (not sure how that's possible...but it happens). Lately I've been really busy academically and musically. I've been frantically asking for recommendations (aka meeting my counselor for the first time) and trying to get caught up on the 4 days I missed (props to the flu). Thankfully, I received my SAT scores and can happily say that I will never have to take any of those dreaded tests ever again. That 10 hour cram session the day before really helped my history score. lol. I also competed last Sunday in the 4th annual Connie Fritz Concerto Competition at Hudson Hall. My nerves really got the best of me and I felt like I let myself down, but well "stuff" happens. Next week, I start rehearsing with the Salem Chamber Orchestra for Bloch's Concerto Grosso No. 2 and Mendelssohn's 10th Sinfonia in b minor. They've asked me and other high school students to play the solo quartet part in the Bloch, so we'll see how that goes. 

So that's the update. But every time I do something that happens annually or traditionally, I realize that it will be my last time, most likely, doing said activity at home in Salem. Next year, I'll be moved on (survived) and off to college. While this is extremely extremely exciting for me, I can't help but feel a little sad. I don't feel ready to actually leave my childhood chapter behind. Right now, I'm really just enjoying eating mom's sandwiches and being nagged to be productive while lying on the couch...(not sure how everyone else feels about this...haha)

What's Irony?

Ahhh the dreaded question that always comes up in English. The one that everyone knows, but no one can explain in words. Don't fret. I (and you eventually) can now easily express "irony."

Last Thursday mom summoned me to the doctor's office to get the H1N1 vaccine. Knowing that there was a shortage, I felt lucky and privileged to get the vaccine. It hurt like tetanus. The nurse then realized that she was able to scrounge (her actual words...kind of freaked me out) up the last of a regular flu vaccine. An hour and two vaccines later, I left the doctor's office feeling super immune to all of the sickness roaming around Salem.

Sunday I almost lost my voice, my head was throbbing, and I had a nice fever (yeah, it's Wednesday now...)

No one mentioned that the vaccines weren't effective for 14 days. FML

IRONY. You're all welcome.  

The Best Birthday Present Ever (aside from life itself...)

As I was frantically trying to write paragraphs about myself and my future (gasp) so my wonderful teachers would write my recommendations, I decided it could be a good idea to check my blog (every once in a while there's a good post right?). Meh, I didn't really find too much, but I did realize that I totally forgot to blog about the newest addition to the family. 

Mom and Dad let me bring home a beautiful Enrico Martini Violin from Peter Zaret's violin shop in Cleveland, OH (fully equipped with his freaking awesome bass bar extension). I still haven't decided on a name, but I love him. Best Birthday Present EVER. Words can't explain the rich sound that comes from the violin, but I've never enjoyed playing so much in my life. :)

Alright, back to typing away about myself and my star-student qualities. haha. anyways...

Farewell to the SAT

It's been a long hard journey. And Thank God it's over.

My journey with the SAT has definitely been more personalized than most. Towards the end of my sophomore year, I was introduced to the SAT every Saturday at something akin to Korean SAT cram school. I used to be ashamed, but honestly, there's nothing to be ashamed of in studying hard for a test that does have a significant effect on you as a college applicant. That being said, I HATE the SAT and everything to do with it. 

My experience has included (but not limited to):

Mistiming by proctor (ten minutes short).

Student with a nosebleed dripping blood near my desk.

Bubbling in the wrong section and having to fill out two scantrons.

Needing to cancel scores...

Not knowing cursive.

Caught mistiming by proctor. (x2)

Proctor eating lasagna during test (wafting smells throughout the room).

Clearly it's been fun. Today I took my final two subject tests in math and US history. We'll see how they turn out...

Oh September, where have you gone?

So contrary to popular belief, I'm not dead. I'm just a senior in highschool.

Haha, so I don't really have a specific purpose in mind for this post, besides just posting so that I can officially have one (1) September post. So there have indeed been a few reasons for my lack of presence:

2. School. Except that my senior year isn't the "typical" senior year, complete with 3 releases 2 pe's and drawing. I'm taking on quite a full schedule: AP English Lit, Orchestra, Anatomy and Physiology, AP Stats, AP Art History, and Honors Physics. *sigh*

3. Violin. I've been reworking the first movement of Mendelssohn's Violin Conerto in E Minor (I last worked on it the summer before junior year) for the annual Connie Fritz Memorial Concerto Competition through the Salem Chamber Orchestra. It's been pretty rewarding to come back to the Mendelssohn so I can finally (hopefully) do it justice. :) But as for the competition, my pianist asked me when the finalists were to perform so that he could see if he was available, and I told him I had no idea because I never even considered the fact that I might be a finalist...haha. We'll see how that pans out. I just got back from recording it (and mom's been listening to the recording on repeat...fml)

5. SAT Subject Tests. Again. I HATE (insert all things including and associated with the SAT). I'm taking the US History and Math Level 2 exams (both for the 2nd time...). 

7. Salem Youth Symphony. So I'm pretty sure that music/violin is becoming something that I truly enjoy and is accordingly taking up much more of my time. I wasn't going to join SYS until I heard that they were planning on playing Dvorak's New World Symphony, Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture, Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony, and accompanying the cello professor at UofO on the Elgar Cello Concerto. *drool*

9. As much as I am regretting taking some classes, I also realized that I need to be busy. I absolutely hate having nothing to do and nowhere to be. The hectic school year has been a little overwhelming at times, but I do appreciate it and understand that I will always need to be occupied by something that I can concentrate all of my energy on. 

Welp. Hopefully I can get in some more useful/insightful posts in October. Sorry September, I have failed you. 

P.S. I'm 18 now. What the??? lol. 

mr.skullman?

The other day as Jenny and I were on our way to Portland...we passed by the strangest sight. From a distance, I thought I was either delirious or terribly crude for staring at someone with an incredibly obscure disease. As we got closer, the man came into full view and I realized that his obscurity was actually about 7 or 8 skulls glued to his skull. Uhmmm...my first thoughts were along the lines of "WTF?!" (Skull man continued to headbang to his music whilst pushing the buttons for both adjacent crosswalks) But then I started thinking...what if I was different? What if I was someone who found the need to glue mini skulls to my head? It was quite the strange thought. But he seemed to enjoy the attention from the people (in all their normalcy) staring through their car windows at him. Where are you now mr. skullman? I hope that you are doing well and that you feel a slight burst of honor for being featured in this prestigious blog. 

Legacy Emanuel Hospital

Whoa! I'm on a roll with the blog (sarcasm). Excuse my "half-post" from a couple of days ago. I guess you could call it my very first attempt at something that may or may not (hopefully) resemble something along the lines of a hazy, preliminary college admissions essay? DONT LAUGH. 

Anyways. The real reason for today's post: I job shadowed in the Trauma center at Legacy Emanuel Hospital today. I was finally able to actually shadow and follow THE trauma surgeon. It was an awesome experience. Here's a copy of the email I sent back to the doc (he had asked for my impressions):

First of all, I'd like to thank you again for allowing me to shadow you. I truly enjoyed my time today. One of the first things I noticed while in the TRACU was the unexpected level of calm amongst the majority of the staff. I was surprised to see that so many people essentially caring for many patients with life-threatening conditions were able to stay level-headed all the time and work efficiently without panicking (like when the patient lost control of his bowels and yelled for help). I also learned that there are actually many people that "do rounds" together with the attending physician. Watching you, your interns, the pharmacist, the nutritionist, the nurses and the PAs all work together to care for the patients seemed somewhat confusing and frantic to me as an outsider at first, but as rounds continued I realized that the team was extremely well-orchestrated and very efficient in that everyone contributed to help each patient in a different way. Although there were some terms/acronyms and drugs (like oxycodone and coumadin) that I recognized, there were so many new terms that I had never heard of before (Paige was really nice and explained a lot of things to me). I also realized that the role of the trauma surgeon cares for so much more than just the immediate admission. I had thought that trauma surgeons wouldn't be as much apart of the patient's care all the way until they leave the hospital. I appreciated being able to watch you react with the patients and assess them almost through casual conversation. I especially admired your sincerity and care for each individual patient and their needs. 

The lunch/seminar was "a little bit above my head (to say the least)," but I appreciated being able to sit and listen to you teach. It was interesting to see exactly how much actual science and numbers factored into much of the clinical work (especially of just trying to maintain homeostasis). 

In short, I realized that some of my preconceptions of "the trauma surgeon" were wrong, but my experience today has done nothing but reaffirm my interest and longing to pursue emergency/trauma medicine. 

Enjoy the copy/paste extravaganza.

Unfortunately (I AM a terrible person), there were no traumas. 

I seem to continue to be the anti-trauma.

which may or may not be a good thing (probably a good thing...but still kind of frustrating sometimes).

-Your Future Trauma Surgeon 

Tony, my italian grandfather.

if i ever finish this post (and it turns out good). i'll post it back up. :)

a short trip to the ER

So I've been having jaw problem for a few months now. It really hasn't been that bad, just the occasional popping or tension. Although I can't say the onset was super surprising. I'm probably the poster child for any type of jaw problem (I chew gum hourly, bite my nails, eat lots of "taffy" candies, play the violin, and if all of that wasn't enough...jaw problems run in the family). Anyways, the jaw popping started becoming more frequent and problematic this last week and culminated in last nights adventure. Last night, after sitting awestruck in front of the tv, watching Joshua Bell play the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto live from Lincoln Center on OPB, I retired to my room to make sure facebook was doing okay before I called it a night. As I scrolled down the page, I let out a semi-big yawn and, what do you know?, my jaw pops out. This had happened to me before, but I've always been able to shove it back in within a matter of seconds. This time my jaw would not budge and I was literally stuck in a less than attractive "gaping mouth" expression. So at 12:30 am, we all changed out of our pajamas, and headed out to the Salem Hospital ER. Having been unable to tour the new ER yet, I did kind of try to look at my visit positively. I got to experience all of the "hospital" that I enjoy, but this time as the patient-ish. Anyways, after making a spectacle of myself in the not-so-private check in center, the nurses ushered me into the triage room where I'd be briefly seen. The lady took my blood pressure and temperature and felt very bad about asking me to answer some questions (true statement: it IS hard to talk when your mouth doesn't close). Then they sent us out to the waiting room where I tried to ease the pain by touching my jaw. Somehow, my muscles must've relaxed during the half hour period everything took, and my jaw popped back into place. "It's back in Dad, let's go home." And we did. The nurses probably laughed some more and we all said goodbye. It was a transient, but good experience. I think once was enough though. 

SCRABBLE

Every once in a while...Dad and I play Scrabble. 

Needless to say I think I've won a total of 1.5 times. 

But it's tough to win when Dad uses words like:

brogue

midi

jamb

brazen

wrest 

ALL on ridiculous triple/double word/letter scores.

I guess it's always a good time though...

Harry Potter and brooooomsticks.

I just got back from watching the sixth Harry Potter movie, the Half Blood Prince with Madison and Andrew (fun times). I was definitely expecting the movie to be awesome (it's hard not to have high expectations when some of your friends spent nights, yes plural "nightS," in front of the movie theater just to be first in line for the midnight showing). Now don't get me wrong, it was a great movie that had me occupied and quite frankly nervous for what would happen next, but this whole "fantasy thing..." I'm not so sure. I guess all I'm trying to say is that it's tough for me to understand magic (like "how come Snape can cure certain dastardly spells, but Harry can't just whip out some magic to save Dumbledore from death"-sorry about the spoiler, but I'm pretty sure that if you haven't been in a coma for the past few years, you'd know by now). But then again, I'm just skeptical (and haven't read past the first three books) and what do I know? I'm just not a fantasy type of girl. Don't worry though, the movie was incredible and the acting has gotten a little better. If anyone knows the answer to magic and its limits or how it works, please feel free to contact me. 

communication

So about once a week, I go to an Alzheimer's/Dementia care home about 6 ish blocks from my house to volunteer. [I'm not going to lie...I almost never want to go, but when I do, I realize why I keep coming back] Spending time with the residents at Clare Bridge has made a huge impact on my life. Lying to someone who claims that their loved one is waiting for them in the parking lot, knowing that they'll forget has been so difficult for me. Agreeing with the regular-manicure-customer women that their old manicures (that I did last week) are terrible has become a regular occurrence (I have no shame). Though working/volunteering in this type of environment is often depressing and difficult, I continue to go back because every time I do, someone's eyes light up when I talk with them, and someone sings extra loud with me during music time, and someone gives me a hug, and someone tells me parts of their story. 

Today, a curly-haired, curious-looking old woman confined to a wheel chair said something to me without words. She has lost the ability to say words and communicate with the outside world, the ability to do anything on her own, but today as I bent over to help her adjust back into her wheel chair, she said something to me. She grabbed both of my wrists and pulled them close to her as she attempted to make noises and looked into my eyes. At first I felt strange and uncomfortable, but I realized that she was talking to me. She continued to look at me and hold my hands as she began to pet my arm. To the outside world, this could have probably been the strangest thing, but I was communicating with her. The human mind is so complex and intricate. I guess it's times like these when I get pulled out of my own little life and realize the greatness of God and that I want to spend the rest of my life dedicated to service and communicating with those who may not seem capable. 

Thoughts

So I've been thinking/wanting to invest in a new violin for a while, but I always strayed from the idea because I knew that I wouldn't major in music. Then, after YMA, thoughts of buying a new violin became even more real and pressing. I decided that, even though I won't be majoring in music, playing the violin is something that I really enjoy; and it would be terribly sad to quit altogether after highschool. I keep entertaining the thought of even minoring in music (if only I wasn't "music-theory-challenged"); and attending a school with a fairly good music program has moved to my priority list. Anyways, enough rambling. I guess I've come to the conclusion that: I really love and enjoy the violin enough to invest in one that will truly make me happy (erasing any worries of "overplaying" or skepticism of "maybe it'll just sound better in first position). Now that I think of it, I think I'd appreciate a really nice violin over a car. It's been decided. In this blog. Thank you blog.

Meanwhile I've been filling my relaxing (aka ridiculously boring days) days with practice and am utterly confused and disappointed at everything that I had been missing out on during my junior year (I probably actually practiced a net like 2-3 hours a week...shhhh dont tell anyone).

Also. I got tired of having 3-4 people, daily (DAILY), ask me where I'm going to apply to freaking college, so I finally took more time to research some colleges that satisfy my priorities. As of right now (this could change in the next week, day, or hour), the college that I would like to apply to (early decision? maybe? yes?) is Rice University in Houston, Texas. Rice has an amazing biology major, good premed advising, close proximity to the largest medical center in the US, amazing music school (and campus orchestra), big city (Houston Rockets vs. Lakers anyone?), residential college system, small classes, lots of research/internship opportunities, etc. The best part, and probably deciding factor (especially my decision to apply early), is that Rice will pay 100% for all 4 years (for our family) in only grants and scholarships. It'd be really nice to graduate without loans... mmmmmm. So I'm currently trying to step up my game (studying for my SAT IIs...atleast I'm done with freaking critical reading and the SAT I).

Welp. Toodles for now. I"m leaving in 12 days for LA to see Tom and leave on our roadtrip! I'm super excited!

YMA 2009

Happy Summer (finally)!

I actually just got back from a 2 ish week camp called YMA (Young Musicians and Artists), held on the Willamette campus (I've officially decided not to apply to Willamette...I need change). Anyways...I roomed with Jenny and Julia, which was often. I'm pretty sure we had more food than clothes (which is saying something) and we only got 4 clean room tickets out of the 12 possible (Jenny got 3...haha). Another sad story, this was the first time I've ever auditioned for anything (it's true, but it went pretty well I guess). My favorite thing about YMA was being in a symphony where everyone can actually play their instrument and has personally chosen to come and join. I really loved the choice of music too. In the symphony we played Rossini's Overture to the Barber of Seville, Prelude and Mazurka from Coppelia, and the fourth movement of the Brahms Symphony No. 1. Although I wished we would have had more time to put everything together, it was an amazing experience. Then in the advanced, but smaller symphonic group, the Connoisseur's Orchestra I was concertmistress (probably because my amazing stand partner, concertmaster in symphony, was playing the Lalo concerto with the group). Nevertheless it was a really exciting experience to play under the direction of Huw Edwards (basically the coolest british man you will ever meet). My favorite piece we played in Connoisseur's was Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture. We also played Copland's Down a Country Lane and accompanied the Lalo Symphonie Espagnole, Elgar Cello Concerto, a J. C. Bach Viola Concerto, and the Stamitz Viola Concerto (I also decided that violists shouldn't have concertos...). So the music was a lot of fun, but so was the free time, group bonding, and just meeting a bunch of new people. It was exactly the summer experience I was looking for, and I'm so glad I went to YMA. Not to mention that I felt super inspired to come home and practice a lot (until I tried to play the Rode Caprice I so happily left for 2 weeks). 

It finally actually feels like summer now which means that:

I wake up in the afternoon.

I do nothing.

and I eat (i guess this is constant year round).

and Junior year seems to have finally come to an end:

my grades came (partyyyy).

and my APUSH score came (partyyyyy).

and my SAT scores came (partyyyyy).

Last update:

The Lakers signed Ron Artest and traded Trevor Ariza to the Rockets: I don't know how I feel about this...Ariza was one of my favorite players and Artest is such a jerk. We'll see I guess...

It's not the end, it's just the beginning (aka the stupidest saying ever; it can't be both so just friggin choose one)

I made it! I survived JUNIOR YEAR! Hallelujah. Still alive and blogging is truly a feat in itself. I went into this year knowing that it'd be terrible and sleepless, and nine months later, I survived with junior humanities, honors chem, PSAT, SATs, two terms of Calculus, and hopefully some life knowledge (nahh) under my belt. *Deeeeeeep breath* I never want to speak of junior year ever again. What I do want to mention is something in my mythology class, taught by Mrs. McElliott, who ended up being my favorite teacher. Throughout the semester of mythology, the class was actually experiencing a polis simulation. I was part of the DOMINATING polis of Sparta and ended up with the coveted title of "hero." As a hero, one is guaranteed much fame and an epithet. I'm here to complain that my epithet was, "Jenna the Word-Weaver" and I have absolutely no idea why (if I ever find out, I'll be sure to post). Seriously, the "word-weaver" doesn't even sound fierce or intimidating. Ahhhh, oh well. 

The Lakers beat the Orlando Magic 4 games to 1 to become the 2009 NBA champs which was really nice to see. It was quite enjoyable to prod some of those die-hard Blazer fans who gave me a hard time throughout the year (haha, shout out to Mrs. Burleson). 

Anyways, I have some more insightful thoughts on graduation and next year (dun dun dunn) for another post on another day (early morning), but I'm leaving for music camp (YMA) tomorrow. I'll be gone for 2 ish weeks, but expect a nice, hefty post on that. 

Lakers (soon to be NBA champs of the 08-09 season)

Yesterday was the pivotal game 4 of a difficult Lakers vs. Magic series (series at Lakers-2, Magic-1). The Lakers, coming back from their game 3 loss, seemed determined to keep their streak of comebacks after losses alive. Both teams seemed to play fairly well and motivated. The game was extremely frustrating and terribly called. The following stat supplied by an nba analyst on espn.com, over a 16:53 stretch from teh fourth quarter until the last three seconds of overtime, Orlando attempted 18 free throws and L.A. attempted zero. Zero!!! It was difficult to watch, but the Lakers continued to tighten up their defensive rotations to be able to come back, even with the odds against them. 

I'll never forget the last possession of regulation. The Lakers done by 3 with 11 seconds remaining, taking the ball out from the far end of the court. The Magic probably have about 3 defenders on Kobe who sings the ball up to a teammate who kicks it to Derek Fisher who steps comfortably into a 3, poorly guarded by Jameer Nelson of the Magic. It was amazing. After being criticized for his off play, and after missing his previous 5 three-pointers, Derek Fisher shows his true determination and belief.

explosion

Because I must also record those times that suck.

Clearly, it's been a long time since I've posted which either means one of two things. (1) I've decided to quit blogging. (2) I've actually been quite entertained, aka swamped.

Luckily it's numero dos.

As school is gearing up to let us all free for three months, all teachers (yes, all. inclusive) are assigning big projects/tests that are due in an unreasonable amount of time coming up very very shortly. Tomorrow I have a violin lesson (that I haven't really prepared quite well for. which tends to be a regular occurrence this year) and quartet practice (for who knows how long). Also, a little bit of background for this recent addition to the list- I was elected honors society VP (how hard could it be? little did i know...). Thursday and Friday morning as well as Friday evening I have to attend graduation/practice to lead the graduating seniors into the stadium with the honors society president. Allergies are going to destroy me. Thursday night, the quartet is playing from 6:30 to 8:00 for "Meals On Wheels." We've had this job forever, and no one noticed that it was this Thursday until yesterday. Good thing we never practice. *cough*. Also on Friday (along with graduation) I have to interview someone who was born prior to 1950 who has historical insight on different events around the sixties. I chose to interview my violin teacher, Prof. Daniel Rouslin at Willamette; I will be interviewing him on Friday. I'm quite excited to see how this turns out. On Saturday, I'm taking the SAT again. no comment. Then I have approximately 3 papers/essays to write by Monday. YESSSSSS.

But I CAN smell the end to this ridiculously hectic, unmerciful, but learning junior year. I guess you, and I use "you" loosely here...because my blog is still undiscovered (which I'm still sort of comfortable with), can expect more blogs during the summer.

Toodles for now, as I return to slaving away.

Joshua Bell

Yesterday, Tuesday, May 19th, I had the wonderful opportunity of listening to Joshua Bell with the Oregon Symphony in the Smith auditorium (at Willamette). He was playing the Mendelssohn violin concerto in E minor (the concerto I played a couple of weeks ago...obviously not the same though, haha). I was amazed at how seamless and easy he made it seem. Obviously, the concerto is not a walk in the park, but I think that his innate ability to make beautiful music come out of his instrument (18th century strad) is what truly draws so many people to him and his music (he sold out the house in Salem. in SALEM! nothing ever gets sold out in salem, OR!). The concerto seemed perfect and I am so happy that I was able to witness his work of art that night. The picture below (compliments to Evan) is of Joshua playing his encore variation of a children's tune, which was truly mind-blowing. 

STATE CHAMPS

A long time ago, in a land far, far away...

The Sprague Camerata Orchestra was struggling to survive. After being under the direction of Mr. Nelson for so long, the students had a hard time accepting any other ideas or ways of teaching. As a freshman, I never really understood this, and now feel terrible for the things that the Sprague Camerata imposed upon the new director. Ultimately, the new director of the year 06-07 was forced to resign at the end of the semester. This is something that I truly regret, but it happened (due to many malicious letters and groups of students/parents). We then began a conductor-hot-potato if you will. By the end of the year we had had 3 directors. The next year (07-08) the Sprague Camerata welcomed a new conductor from the Oregon Symphony. Unfortunately, this conductor also left at the end of the year. At this point, the Sprague Camerata has switched many different conductors and (although we still sounded good) had never been able to corral a 1st place back to Sprague.

All of this changed this year. Sprague Camerata 08-09.

We finally met a stable conductor who is here to stay (hopefully). Last year, the orchestra lost a significant amount of seniors to a point that many people did not believe that we would ever sound as good again. Well, it happened. The group came together and gave one of the best performances I've ever been apart of. It was an amazing feeling to finally climb back to the top and to get a (my first) state championship at the OSAA Orchestra State Championships at OSU. More than the first place, I really just appreciate the amazing connection that the Camerata has. It's a lot of fun to make music with all of my good friends.

P.S. I made it in the paper. Except I look kind of scary? I don't know. Concentration, maybe?

Update

I'm currently blogging from my very own, new (handed-down from Tom) PowerBook. 

I'm currently reading The Old Man and the Sea (thanks Ernest).

I'm currently waiting for Andrew and Jenny to come over for our chemistry marathon.

I'm currently eating asian pears.

I'm currently super excited for the State Orchestra Competition this Friday (expect a post).

And the Lakers are up 3-2 against the Rockets. One more game (hopefully) in Houston tomorrow.

APUSH

APUSH: a seemingly harmless acronym for something quite terrible and frightening.

As many of you know (everytime I write "many" or address an audience...I die a little inside because I'm obviously the only one that sees my blog ever. haha. oh well) I've been suffering through a history class all year. AP US History if you will. I hate it. It's not because I have a monotone-y, crap teacher (because the teacher is actually quite engaging and enthusiastic) and it's not because I'm failing. I just can't get myself excited about history. It doesn't interest me, so I never remember things or find them inspiring and historically "breath-taking." So I hate history. On Friday, May 8th, I took the APUSH test at school. 55 minutes of multiple choice questions followed by 2 hours and 10 minutes to write 1 dbq (document based question) and to answer 2 free response questions. I found the multiple choice to be more difficult than the practice tests that I'd done, and the prompt too strange and paradoxical to be able to construct a really coherent essay (Af-Am's gained freedom AND slavery expanded? wtf...). Half way through the free response questions, my aching blister popped. I hated everything to say the least. And now all I have to show for it is this blog, my never-ending hatred of history, and the completion of the AP test (a "be nice to me, i took the APUSH test today" sticker if you will).

I was going to end this entry, but I just couldn't let myself not write about my violin recital.
ON THE SAME DAY!

After the test, I crashed/slept on the couch until it was time to leave for my recital at 7:30. I got there at 7:29...it was great. I played the 2nd and 3rd movements of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in E minor at Hudson Hall. It actually went quite well. I then went home to watch the Lakers beat the Rockets. Atleast the day ended on a good note.

toodles.

The Adventures of Hercules

Monday the 27th of the year two-thousand-and-nine.
Hercules is reported missing at 3:00.

I come home and see dad frantically driving into the garage, claiming that Hercules had gone astray. Now normally, Hercules just gets out of the house and runs into the neighbors' garage to eat the neighbor-dog's food, but he was really gone. He was MIA. And clearly he missed his vet appt for his shots. After searching around the neighborhood for like an hour, Dad and I retire to nervously waiting at home for a phone call; Hercules' dog tag had our phone number on it (ah, the classic dogtag, all for utilitarian purposes, none of this fashion nonsense). It soon becomes 6:00 then 7:00 and still no signs of Hercules. Dad and I, having attempted to appear calm and collected, are slowly becoming more worried and nervous. It starts to turn dark and the storm clouds roll in. At this point, Mom has just found out and is speeding home from work. Before coming home she checked the entire back neighborhood and asked all of the families at home. Still no signs of Hercules. Mom comes in exhausted and distraught. We all begin to picture the worst, but Mom, after just a couple of minutes, runs out again to search for Hercules in the backyard. At this point (8:00), it's raining and she's helplessly just yelling his name, but someone from behind the fence, hearing our calls, said that she had found our missing pug. It was a miracle! Hercules, 9-10 years old, is very hard of hearing and can barely see. We were so grateful and relieved. We ran over and brought Hercules, who had been equally shocked and panic-y, back home. It was an amazing story and I'm so glad we found him.

It's sad, but you only truly realize the really important things in life when they're gone, or on a temporary exploration.


Lakers beat the Jazz 4-1 and move onto the 2nd round.

the blog buffet

Buffets always seem so delicious and wonderful, but, when you really get down to it, it's just another excuse for a massive amount of sub-par food. If it's a good buffet, the overwhelming amounts of food will balance out the quality of the food. And with that, my blog buffet (feel free to pick and choose):

The Research Paper: What seemed like a daunting, perilous task to construct a coherent, six-paragraph essay on The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is finally over. Yes, I am aware that it doesn't seem very intimidating and horrible, but it is. Not only do you have to analyze the novel on your own, but you have to take other, fancy literary peoples' analysis, and analyze them (essentially analyze and analysis). All with the added bonus of following a ridiculously strict guideline provided by the MLA committee (*shudder*). Ironically, as the left-brained nerd that I am, I was easily able to own the MLA formatting points (hopefully) and was actually left just worrying about my content. I think that the most difficult part of the whole process was keeping up with the mini-deadlines (as the process actually took around 3 months). Everything would have been better if I was left to write my entire paper the night before, which is what I ended up doing (thanks to my wonderful BSing for the mini-deadlines). Hallelujah it's over!

APUSH: aka AP US History, is kicking my butt. I absolutely despise history because it just doesn't interest me and therefore I can't remember anything, ever. Anyways, the AP test is coming up on May 8th (the same day as my violin recital...fml) and I'm dying. To make things worse, I'm always taking the SAT US history subject test on May 2nd. Prayers and miracles needed...

National Merit: A long time ago in a land, far, far away...I took the PSAT. Apparrently I'm a genius (hahahaha...vomit), and I now have the opportunity to tell two colleges of my awesome-ness via National Merit Scholarship Corporations. Problem. Where in the world (is waldo/carmen sandiego) am I supposed to send them to? Ahhhh!

LAKERS: are up 2 to 1 in its playoff matchup against the Utah Jazz.

Saturday Academy Internship: remember the internship applied for a couple of months ago? I should by finding out within this next week. Hopefully I got the position because if I didn't, I don't have a Plan B. No, I don't want to spend my summer rotting away at home.

End of Blog Buffet. One mint per person.

Orchestra Districts

So...there probably won't be a NYC post, but we''ll still acknowledge that it happened (even though it goes blogless).

Today was the Salem-Keizer Orchestra Districts Festival Day (SKODF? errrm). Following years of tradition, a group of the girls went out to breakfast, Sassy Onion, early this morning. It makes me feel sick/nauseous every year, but it's totally worth it. And then we all headed over to West (usually districts is at North, but whatever). Camerata performed 2 movements of Respighi and a Capriccio by Suplevsky at 10:30. The stage, new to all of us, was really strange because on stage it sounded like no one was playing, but apparently it sounded good in the audience? Personally, I didn't think it was one of our better performances, but I think we placed first (I haven't heard it from the actual source yet). Nevertheless, it was lots of fun, minus the sightreading...which is just another story for another blog. After lunch the Symphony played the 2nd movement of Beethoven's 7th, Mascaganini's Intermezzo, and Hoe-down. I honestly felt terrible about this performance. The tempos were different than we normally practice and the instability in the front stands was probably scaring the crap out of the rest of the orchestra. Luckily our sightreading went really well, but honestly, I probably owe some practice time.
Then I came home and slept/watched some nba playoffs (yessss!).

Cavs blow out the Pistons
Bulls upset the Celtics
Rockets kill the Blazers

airplane encounter

It's currently 3:00am and I have this sudden urge to finally get down the story of my "airplane encounter" from the ride back from NYC last Monday, April 6th.

I sat down in my assigned window seat, planning to switch with whoever sat in the spot next to all of my close friends. I soon found out that passengers from JFK aren't as amiable or flexible to seat changes. Finally, my last hope for switching seats to a different location comes walking down to his seat. An average-looking man sits down and immediately strikes up a conversation of how I'd need to pay him "a hundred or so dollars" to switch seats with him. He liked the aisle seat. He was awkward and strange. Little did I know...that this man would continue to talk to me for the rest of the trip. Mr. Joe continued to tell me about his job as a real estate manager, his one-room apartment that currently had instruction going on underneath it (to make way for a subway...hmmm. unintentional rhyme), his current trip to go skiing in Utah (our layover), and his interest in music (when he found out that I was on the orchestra trip). As we talked, my interest in a medical profession came up and he simply said, "you'd make a great doctor." Almost any other time, I might've found this man fairly annoying, but something about him grabbed my attention. God seemed to be placing me in this situation to comfort and entertain this lonely man. So I ignored the man trying to sleep in the middle seat and continued to talk. Sadly, I fell asleep due to the ridiculous lack of sleep on the trip. I woke up to him asking if I wanted anything to eat. "Sure, thanks." He gives me his cookie. And then I notice that he's reading an Anatomy text book with another text book underneath. I do a doubletake and remember his random comment to me about being a doctor. So then I have to ask him "what the books are for, and what he does (real estate, really?). It turns out that Mr. Joe had gone to medical school, but didn't feel comfortable taking the boards due to his lack of understanding of "big picture" anatomy. He became a clinical psychologist, but then got bored and became a real estate guy. And now he reads anatomy text books to stimulate his mind...

So this story really has nothing to do with his coincidental medical term. His loneliness just grabbed me and I ended up really enjoying his story and conversation. Honestly I'll never forget Joe, but I'm sure he's back to being an awkward real estate guy in NYC right now. I guess you just have to be open-minded to meet people, even on a crowded airplane from JFK.

prom?

So...it's been a while. And I guess the nyc post will have to wait. Lesson learned: never promise that the next post will be awesome...

Obviously, I'm not the type of girl that tries to look "good" on a regular basis. I mean I don't look gross and scruffy everyday, but let's just say I wake up at 7:10 and leave the house at 7:30 (shower, breakfast, etc included) every morning. Which is why I was a little hesitant about prom. But Brandon asked. I said yes. And soon (and by soon...I mean like five days before) I was equipped with a dress, shoes, and a boutonniere (aka the flower thing). Our group was awesome! It was Ethan and Kelsey, Jeff and Bekah, and Brandon and me. The guys were great and made a huge breakfast for us before we went to Silver Creek Falls. After some hiking, picnicking, and frisbeeing, we went our separate ways to get ready and met back up for pictures and dinner. Bush Park was freezing, but still good for pictures. And Kyoto, the one and only tepanyaki place in town was quite good. The dance at the convention center was super fun and the ice sculpture was probably the coolest thing ever. After everything, i came home and collapsed as mom pulled out 45 bobby-pins out of my head. A day well spent.

Happy Easter! (two hours ago...)

and sometimes we make it

I don't particularly enjoy reading laundry lists of what people did on their days. These typical "diary" blog entries are usually long, lame, and ordinary. So when I decided to jumpstart my blog, I made a pact with myself that I wouldn't write this type of pointless crap. But I think I will have to break the pact today. It's Spring Break and I must ramble. (So if you're like me, don't read this post)

Last week was ridiculous. Not only was it the week before Spring Break when every teacher decides to give a huge test before people check out and go on vacation, but it was also finals week for my calculus class. As mentioned many times (enough to bore myself) before, calculus wasn't going very smoothly for me (to say the least). I was planning on taking my final on Wednesday. So with a large glass of chocolate milk and cheese/crackers, I studied/relearned an entire term of Calculus from Tuesday around 8pm till Wednesday 3am. I get home from school on Wednesday to find out that my slightly ridiculous (sarcasm) calculus teacher decided to finally reply to my confirmation email from monday saying that the testing center (the one I was supposed to be at on Wednesday) closed at 4:00. Wednesday was the deadline. Previously described teacher was nowhere to be found. No email. No phone. After much frantic calling and not-so-nice thoughts, I gave up and hung around the house. He emails back at 9:00..."oh, I'm sorry, you can take it tomorrow." Long story short, I took the final on Thursday during school. I slayed the final. Checked grades today. I SURVIVED CALCULUS. Lots of stress, money, and sleepless nights later, I have two A's to show for it. ...and she lived happily ever after.

After thought: I just wasted 15 minutes writing this entry. And you (probably me again) just wasted 3 minutes reading it. I feel like this story just needed to be written down so I wouldn't forget the fury. I promise the next entry will be worthy of existence.

the end is near...

My life ended today. I took the SAT this morning and I feel like I'm going to vomit. And as much as I wish I could just kick back and relax now, I have a ridiculous cloud hanging over me at the moment; the cloud that is calculus. Sometimes I just want to erupt into flames. Because of my weekly calculus marathons (see "Calculus Saturdays"), I don't have any remotely close concepts of what I've been working on for the past, oh I don't know, ten weeks. Final on Wednesday. Prayers wanted/needed.


Lakers update: 52-13, tied with the Cavaliers for 1st in league (we own the tie-breaker).

TRAUMA

So I usually head over to Salem Hospital around 3:00 on Mondays to volunteer for about an hour, but I was running a little late today and parked/changed clothes (in the parking garage...super awkward if you're unlucky and someone pulls in next to you) at around 3:05. At this point, I'm fast-walking to the hospital (as a volunteer, it probably doesn't matter, but I hate being late) and just as I'm about to cross the street to the hospital, an ambulance with full-blown lights and sirens turns onto the street. Now I know that this ambulance isn't carrying like cuts and scrapes so I take off running. blah blah blah, and I was in the trauma bay within five-ish minutes.

Mr X is a 52 year old man with a long history of shooting oxycodone had run his car into a dumptruck and was suffering from a broken/shattered femur, tib/fib (open fracture), and was tachycardic.

We took him to CT (where I met this awesome trauma surgeon with a Southern accent who was hilarious; her last words as she left the case were "Well I'm going to operate, loves and kisses and all that shit.") where the orthopedic surgeon at SH discovered that he wouldn't be able to repair the damage (probably more than 20 shattered pieces just below the knee). So the trauma guys called for a transfer by helicopter to Legacy in Portland. When the helicopter came, we rolled the patient out to the ambulance and took the ambulance out to the "helipad" aka Mcculloch Stadium, loaded him onto the helicopter, and saw him off.

I hate what this sounds like, but it was an awesome trauma. People always think I'm morbid, but it's not the "trauma itself" that I enjoy, but the process of trying to save someone's life (even though this one wasn't necessarily life threatening). Not really knowing how or being able to help was really inspiring to me. I want to be the trauma surgeon that stays for the climax of the case, hardly charts anything, and leaves to go directly into the OR with another patient.

Calculus Saturdays

What once used to be my favorite day of the week filled with cartoons, lazy mornings, and family breakfasts has took a terrible turn for the worst. Saturdays are hell. I wake up at 8:30, go to SAT cram school in Portland, cry with Jenny, and come home. But that's not all. Saturdays have recently (and when I say recently I mean the entire Winter term) become devoted to a nefarious evil, calculus. Knowing I wasn't a distance learner, I signed up for the only available night Calculus class (the one online)...aka death. Ever since then I've been doing an entire week's worth of Calculus on Saturday. Yes, I know you can't actually expect to retain anything when you have marathons of it once a week.

So *message to all* Never ask me what I have "planned for the weekend" or "what I'll be up to" because I"ll cry inside and lie to you. "I'm not sure yet."

Apart from saving lives and doing other heroic deeds...

Today I volunteered at the hospital. Volunteering at the hospital truly is a love-hate relationship for me. I love being in the hospital environment and randomly forcing docs to talk to me in the elevators, often to a stalkerish degree... Unfortunately, something that you realize after like three weeks of volunteering (they usually sugarcoat the job for atleast the first 2 weeks...) is that volunteering doesn't mean "helping the community" or "making a difference in healthcare" like you wrote on your volunteer application, but its usually a disgusting amount of filing, alphabetizing, and licking envelopes. Since I've been volunteering for over a year, I usually find myself doing some sucky job in a little office or sending mail (usually junk mail unworthy of being opened) to the docs. And I digress, but today was a different kind of sucky office filing. I was in the medical staff office that, until today, I thought only delivered mail, but it actually has a more awesome, secret function. In a small, code-locked room in the very corner of the office is a place where the hospital keeps its deepest darkest secrets. First of all, putting me in that room was probably the worst decision anyone could ever make, but if its a volunteer, "lets lock her in the sucky room with two hours of filing!" As I was thinking horrible thoughts in my head as I reached for the first paper on top of the 1-1.5 foot (yes, foot) stack of papers, I realized that these were the papers of failures. Those failures that can never be uttered within hearing distance without the slight chance of lawsuits or worse, losing your medical license. Every paper in the pile was a complaint, was a misunderstanding, was a failure that needed to be addressed. Its probably not a good idea for a doctor to come upfront and say that he or she accidentally dropped the baby due to the emergent conditions of the mother and the unusually quick delivery. So here, as I discovered, was the outlet for these doctors to admit their faults, to learn from their mistakes, and acknowledge the true mortal powers of a single human. But they must do it in hiding through these letters, emails, and dictations amongst eachother. Never letting on, but continuing to be super humans in the eyes of us lay people. The system is truly flawed.

Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, has meant one thing to me for the past seventeen years of my life---getting ash crosses on our foreheads at church, on a Wednesday.

But this year, for some reason, something felt different to me. I'm not exactly sure why, but the symbolism of it all dawned on me (not that I didn't know it was symbolism before...). The gray ashes, from the left over palms of Palm Sunday, really meant the fragility and mortality of life. It really did symbolize our dependence on Jesus, just as fasting does. How simple, but at the same time, how intricately beautiful could a simple ash cross on a forehead be? And as every parishioner left the building to return to his or her own private life, probably filled with things to do and things to see, everyone was marked with a humble sign of fault and failure---with a renewed need for something more to fill the empty spaces. Beautiful.

so stressed...

Geography? Seriously?

c'mon, as if history isn't bad enough.


People in all of their wisdom are always saying that a balanced education is extremely valuable for becoming a well-rounded person, but I really disagree sometimes. Why not let someone get a more in-depth education in a subject that they actually enjoy and plan to pursue? Maybe a couple of general classes, but the student should be able to focus on their true interests.


What I meant to say in one sentence (a feature that needs to be implemented more often):
I like math and science; this will never change.



stress: online calculus test, geography (of the entire world) test, chem test, mythology test, benefit concert tomorrow (i guess today), ASE final application essays, the fact that i haven't practiced since my lesson last wednesday, i didn't watch the oscars(but it doesn't matter because i didn't watch any movies last year), etc.

errrm

So I haven't really had any profound epiphanies...or other stupid things to write about lately. The only thing that might possibly be worth mentioning is my new found love of xkcd.com. haha. I"ll just leave it at that.


Praying that the debilitating epidemic that has hit Sprague and its 95% recycled air slows its path of destruction...(meanwhile I've been noticing extra parking spaces in the mornings)

Lakers beat Atlanta tonight.

musings on an insightful lecture

When I first entered spanish class this year, with a new teacher, I was definitely shocked by her new teaching style. She calmly stated at the beginning of the year that she didn't believe in strict "book-teaching." And I must admit that when I first heard this, I was a little worried because personally I'm a great "book-learner," but I was also very doubtful of the success this approach might have. A semester of games, songs, and skits later, I am a firm believer of unconventional teaching/learning. And really, it wasn't a big deal. I went in to class to have fun, didn't have homework, and got good grades.

Then today, during her lecture on "multiple intelligences," I finally realized that my approach to education for the past 9 or so years has been so incredibly wrong. We analyzed why school stopped being "fun" after elementary school. Apparently in the wee stages of education, we're all extremely excited to LEARN and take things away from school. Unfortuntately, there comes a point in every American student's educational journey when a teacher stops being your best friend and matches you with a letter determining your success (or lack there of). I'm not too sure when or why that happened to me, but I'm definitely the poster-child of our "broken education system." I've sadly realized that school has become less of a learning/growing experience and more of a competetive factory system to pick up a 4.0, extra-curriculars, and teacher recs for my next educational journey.


I don't want my highschool journey to be a compilation of letters and numbers.

back with a vengeance (but not really)

I've been thinking about this "blog" (if you can even call it that) a lot lately and whether I should just terminate its sorry life or actually, *gasp*, continue. And as I read my post on the Elsinore concert of December 2007, I remembered why I wanted to blog. Not so I could be better at writing (all hope is lost there), but so that I can remember the little joys and triumphs I have in my premature life. So I continue.

All stress and highschool "drama" aside, I feel really excited about where I am in life and what's "just around the corner." I recently submitted a preliminary application for a summer internship in science and engineering, and I'm really hoping it works out. I'd be so thrilled to have any chance to be on the OHSU campus, even as a grunt (hah). All of my classes are enjoyable and manageable thus far. Calculus is still a pain in the butt, but I'm still pulling through. Really what I'm trying to say is, my previous thoughts on wanting to skip everything and jump right into a medical career, aren't as strong. And I'm excited for the journey.


FML Lakers lost today. It's ok, we're still 42-10 (aka first in league).