I’m really only writing this because of peer pressure.
Specifically, Felipe is quite persistent.
It’s rather ironic to me that I think of amazing things to post when I am as far away from a computer as possible. For example, I was reading Martin Luther for my Religion class when I realized how much I dislike Las Vegas. It may be a little bit presumptuous of me to form such a strong opinion, considering that I have only driven through Las Vegas once (maybe twice?). Also, if you know me (if you are reading this I assume you do) then you know that I am not extremely opinionated. This is definitely detrimental when the Opinions section of the Wellesley newspaper e-mails me and I realize that (once again) I don’t care enough to write an article about anything.
So why don’t I like Las Vegas? Well, why would I like Las Vegas? It’s a shit-hole city in the middle of the desert where discontented people go because they are bored of their suburban life. It’s a bigger facade than Hollywood, promising wealth and sex with a greasy, manipulative grin. I’m advising everyone to refrain from pursuing happiness in Las Vegas. I realize that it’s your right, but it’s just a bad idea.
Basically, it stands for the very few things that I hate. First of all, greed. We hate politicians because they are “greedy”. I hate major record labels because they are greedy (well, and because they produce and promote terrible music). Greed is the antithesis of contentment and an inescapable black hole (and it doesn’t even do cool shit like time travel).
The irony, of course, is the old ladies who spend their last dollars on the slot machines are being conned by “the machine”. The customer is greedy, but not intelligent enough to realize that casinos are flashy because of the money they contribute in their quest for bling.
To me, Vegas is an empty promise. The sex is fake. Well, it’s real, but it’s not. The physical is extremely present, but the spirituality of sex is completely absent. There is no bond, no poetry in the motions of the cattle-whores who flaunt around in their erotic poses. This is America at it’s worst.
Last of all, the city itself is so disgusting. The color palette: neon, bright…and yet the gray and brown seep into everything.
You have to be shitfaced to sleep with such an unattractive prostitute. And when you wake up robbed, diseased, and hungover…you have regret. I am not naive enough to be swooned.
I would write more…especially on things less…rough. This is just so strange to me, having such a strong dislike of something. But more than anything, it makes me depressed that people will flock to a desert, thinking that their thirst for happiness will be quenched. Anyway, I have to go. Sorry this is a downer. =p
Originally written 12/12/09
Being at Wellesley has made me crave academic excellence. Yes, “crave” insinuates that I don’t already have it. I probably have the worst study habits out of everyone in my dorm…this semester has been a rough one. In other words, I REALLY NEED TO PASS CALCULUS. If I don’t, oh man. It will not be pretty.
Anyway, this article about America’s best high schools according to (Who else?) US News and World Report came out, and Yahoo told me about it. And of course, one of the first things I think about is how my little brother should go there, or whatever. And then I realize: Yeah right! He’s intelligent, but I don’t want to kill the boy!
I find mental health a lot more important than academic achievement. These, of course, are not mutually exclusive. But when you get into high levels, you realize just how close that line between genius and insanity really is. Maybe geniuses all drive themselves insane by not sleeping enough.
I wouldn’t know – there’s been many a time when I’ve decided to sleep instead of doing (necessary) work.
Anyway, this book sounds interesting:
School of Dreams: Making the Grade at a Top American High School by Edward Humes
It’s about Whitney High School, in Cerritos, CA. Whitney is the third best high school in the nation according to the 2010 list from USN&WR. Being from CA, I already knew about this school. My high school ( “only” in the top 3% of American high schools according to USN&WR) prides itself on its API scores and how we’re the best in our county and in the top 25 of the state. But guess what school is #1? Yes, Whitney. And even then I wondered: What do they do that is so effective?
It should be clear that I dislike rat races and “top lists”. I don’t like what they stand for – that someone could be totally esteemed and accomplished, but they are overlooked because “they aren’t Harvard”. (Btw, Harvard is totally overrated, at least as an undergrad college.) After all, at that point, what’s the real difference between #1 and #2? And colleges specifically – there are so many fantastic institutions that #25 isn’t something to sneeze at.
The people that I really respect are the deeply intelligent ones that somehow achieve outside of the rat race. Take Thao Nguyen. She’s an alumna from the #1 high school in the country – Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology. She’s currently the guitar strumming vocalist of the indie band Thao With The Get Down Stay Down. That, my friend, is bad ass.
When you’re the president of the Breakfast Club…
A lot of things have happened since my lack of facebooking (I definitely miss it more than I should). I’ve been trying to delve into the mind of the ultra-feminist lesbian Jew known as Adrienne Rich, and it’s been an interesting experience, to say the least. And frick, I still have to write that essay.
As a side note, because this weekend was one long reading spree, I finally watched the Breakfast Club for the first time ever. Good times. And it led me to thinking, if it was recast today, who would be in it?
Of course, I am NOT saying that it should be remade. Remakes are terrible. But it’s still an interesting concept? After some thought, I came up with the best cast possible out of our choices of “teen” stars. (In reality, most of them are in their 20s. Which always bugs me. But I felt better when I did the math and found out that three of the original were also in their 20s.) Granted, if anyone ACTUALLY wanted to remake this (which they shouldn’t), then it would be best to have all unknowns. But imagining an all-star cast is fun for kicks and giggles:
1. The Princess – Leighton Meester
The reasoning behind this is pretty simple – she is one of the main characters on Gossip Girl. This role would not be hard for her.
2. The Jock – Cory Monteith
Once again,it’s pretty obvious why I thought this one up – he’s a football player on Glee. Who wrestles anymore anyway?
3. The Criminal – Taylor Lautner
Ok, this one was actually hard to find, because Bender was my favorite character. No one could live up to Judd Nelson in this role. I tried and failed to think of an actor bad ass enough for this character, but alas. There is none. But, I think if Lautner grew out his hair a little, got a little more grungy and angry (aka, was less of a pretty boy), he could do it.
4. The Basketcase – Emily Browning
She’s pretty, and a good enough actress to act crazy for most of the movie.
5. The Geek – Michael Cera
So. Obvious.
Yeah, I know this list is pretty ridiculous (they are all TOO PRETTY), but given my options (at least Miley Cyrus isn’t in it, guh) it’s not bad. And in my defense, it’s four in the morning. And on that note, I’m going to bed.
Edit: Oh, actually, I wanted to share that I always forget how much I LOVE Duckie. Granted, I probably forget because I’ve only seen Pretty in Pink once or twice. But still. The boy is my hero.
Procrastination via poetry.
I wanted to write a poem about defeat and bittersweet half-success. So this broken sonnet is what I came up with…but I couldn’t think of a good title, oh well.
Regarding December 3rd
I can still hear autumn whisper at night.
You know it was supposed to snow weeks ago,
but this had to happen first. This last breath, the footsteps.
After admitting defeat, the feet gradually slow. Head hangs low.
“Maybe I should stop walking. I have nowhere to go.”
But. Maybe I’m wrong and maybe you’re right.
I take the elevator down the path of least resistance:
nowhere in particular. Sigh, sit. Sigh, stand.
I manage Failure, a nasty business
I swear Entropy is part of my physics.
Now, a second confession! A sense of doom as I enter the room.
And… grace is the lesson for my transgression?
…I don’t know how.
There is snow now.
Don’t worry, rap music is not inherently sinful.
If it was, I don’t think Tupac would be on The Vatican’s CD.
Anyway. Yesterday I was listening to the rap Gerald gave me, and I realized that The Game referenced a 2pac song in a humorous way, and the fact that I realized this made me really happy.
I really need to further my Hip Hop education. After finals, of course….
Sometimes.
I wish I was genuinely crazy. Well, kind of. Crazy in the uninhibited, creative way – when you wonder whether that person had to be on drugs to think that crap up, but they really weren’t, because that’s just how they think. Does that make sense? Probably not.
I’m kind of at an awkward middle ground craziness. My dad is too sane, my mom is too random. Yes, I am clearly defined by my genes. Isn’t everyone?
Anyway. Something that’s been happening in my life recently: my relationship status with with vegetarianism went from “In a Relationship” to “It’s complicated”. On Thanksgiving I ate turkey, yesterday I ate chicken, today I ate an omelet with some meat product. I had been living with vegetarianism for four years, but I think by this point I’ve officially moved into another apartment with an omnivore lifestyle. I admit, I’ve cheated on vegetarianism before (no relationship is perfect), but this is different. I’m not sure if vegetarianism is giving me what I need. I also don’t know if I can handle this kind of a commitment during this point in my life. And it’s not that I want to separate from vegetarianism forever (I really do love it), it’s just that maybe we should take a break. I need to find myself.
(My change of heart is mostly because of the dining services here. It’s really hard to be healthy in general, but to be a healthy vegetarian is even more difficult.)
Apparently there’s a new food manager now, and there are going to be community groups for vegetarians and vegans starting up (next semester, perhaps?).
Maybe this is just the kind of counseling our relationship needs.
Being too casual with professors: Writing professor edition
Both happened in class today.
1. After he stated that we were all a bit unamused and tired:
“Well, you should have dressed up like a clown.”
2. After we did an activity involving reading other people’s handwritten work:
Fisher: “Is anyone else’s handwriting as hard to read as mine?”
Me: “No, I think your handwriting is on a whole different level of messy.”
After the class laughs, Me: “Though I’m sure it just shows your genius.”
In my defense, he did start reading the poetry in a funny voice at one point.
Oh, while I’m here. Today I also had a whiteboard vs. chalkboard discussion with my Calc prof in the middle of class, in which he stated that he would eat chalk powder for money. And he handed us a worksheet with a legit drawing of a “series zoo”, with two large “cages” to separate the Divergent and Convergent series. It even has a cute little Tickets stand in the middle. How fantastically eccentric!
Also while I’m here: today I received two study books by Cal Newport, the blogger behind Study Hacks. He’s a post grad from MIT, and emphasizes efficiency in studying, rather than a “brute force” or “pseudo-working” approach (both common in college). As someone who pretends to like economics, I find this idea extremely attractive. Therefore, I really want to read this books in order to procrastinate. But I know that this defeats the purpose. So I’ll just continue with my Calc homework now.
“If I” by Demetri Martin
I just watched the whole 48 minutes of “If I” on Youtube. And I’ve got to say, the man is a genius. I mean, I’d realized this to a certain extent before, but now I know that he’s literally a genius. The first video is here.
What I find particularly amazing are the poems. The first is a poem written entirely out of words on a beer bottle. The second is a 224 word palindrome (having to do with a mailman?).
A surprisingly true youtube comment on one of the videos:
“Sounds like a confession. A long, nerdy, beautiful confession.”
Birthday Eve.
I’m just making this up as I go, so I’m not going to pretend like it’s any good (in fact, it’s probably going to be exceedingly terrible).
Eternal excuse – youth
shrinks, only seen by “blind”.
“I am only understood by melody words,
chatter is tuneless.”
– so says the “useless”.
“Even as we learn to see
we should not forget to sing.”
Wild girl, crazy woman
what difference be?
