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old, sly dog (day one hundred thirty two)

first of all, i apologize for my disappearance. i may not have a lot of readers, but i’m very thankful for those of you who think that what i’m blabbering on about is important enough to follow.

things have flipped around a few times, and within the past few weeks i changed from a miserable person to a balanced, figuring-it-out girl. i think it’s no coincidence that this all came around the time i started watching the office, but more on that later. nothing sudden has happened, but i slowly and kind of randomly found little moments of pride and happiness. a 95 on a math quiz, or an anecdote my friends find hilarious. it’s sad that those are the things that make me happiest, but i guess my goals aren’t elaborate. i really want to end the school year strong, but that would involve having a non-fluctuating grade in math and such. that is not the case, and i’ve changed my goal to just hanging on.

but i can tell things have changed.

little things, like my reading habits or my exercise plan. i used to read all at once, or at the very least, large chunks of a novel in few sittings. instead, i’ve learned to put a book down for the sake of getting enough sleep. i’m rereading welcome to the monkey house, which i started about two weeks ago, and i’m still just halfway through. i try to get a story each night before bed, but i’ve skipped that the past few days. and this blog… well somehow it kind of dropped from my priorities, and i think that’s okay. summer is coming, and hopefully i’ll write enough to make it up. i also started running again. i’ve always been the one to crack jokes about being out of shape, and until i’m able to run a few miles without stopping, i’ll continue that. and i’ve joined clubs. a broadcasting one and a womens’ one.

this is all kind of a jumble but it’s just to fill in for the past several days in which i was silent on here. i’m going to try to piece out my schoolwork, which is something i rarely do because i don’t have that kind of patience. i’m a frustrated person if i don’t finish things in my first try, so this will test my patience.

so yeah, i’m sure everyone i know has been doing what i’ve just started trying. but i’m learning, which is something.

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old, sly dog (day one hundred thirty two)

first of all, i apologize for my disappearance. i may not have a lot of readers, but i’m very thankful for those of you who think that what i’m blabbering on about is important enough to follow.

things have flipped around a few times, and within the past few weeks i changed from a miserable person to a balanced, figuring-it-out girl. i think it’s no coincidence that this all came around the time i started watching the office, but more on that later. nothing sudden has happened, but i slowly and kind of randomly found little moments of pride and happiness. a 95 on a math quiz, or an anecdote my friends find hilarious. it’s sad that those are the things that make me happiest, but i guess my goals aren’t elaborate. i really want to end the school year strong, but that would involve having a non-fluctuating grade in math and such. that is not the case, and i’ve changed my goal to just hanging on.

but i can tell things have changed.

little things, like my reading habits or my exercise plan. i used to read all at once, or at the very least, large chunks of a novel in few sittings. instead, i’ve learned to put a book down for the sake of getting enough sleep. i’m rereading welcome to the monkey house, which i started about two weeks ago, and i’m still just halfway through. i try to get a story each night before bed, but i’ve skipped that the past few days. and this blog… well somehow it kind of dropped from my priorities, and i think that’s okay. summer is coming, and hopefully i’ll write enough to make it up. i also started running again. i’ve always been the one to crack jokes about being out of shape, and until i’m able to run a few miles without stopping, i’ll continue that. and i’ve joined clubs. a broadcasting one and a womens’ one.

this is all kind of a jumble but it’s just to fill in for the past several days in which i was silent on here. i’m going to try to piece out my schoolwork, which is something i rarely do because i don’t have that kind of patience. i’m a frustrated person if i don’t finish things in my first try, so this will test my patience.

so yeah, i’m sure everyone i know has been doing what i’ve just started trying. but i’m learning, which is something.

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a woman’s not a woman until the pills wear off (day one hundred and ten)

who decided dress code was a good idea?

i pose this question not as someone who “expresses herself through clothing and fashion” but as a teenage girl, free of any dress code violations, who would rather study for my courses over worrying over the width of her tank top. i don’t fall into what most would call inappropriate (i’ve been made fun of for dressing like a teacher), so understand that this doesn’t just come from people who wear short skirts and high heels (which is great for them).

the main reasoning when this whole institution is questioned is that, in school, boys will get distracted with a hard on if they see a bra strap or -gasp- more than two inches between knee and skirt. and, to state the obvious, this is kind of sexist. why should i, an unsuspecting teenage girl, have to dress so the boy sitting behind me can concentrate? and what if i, someone who seems to have a new crush every week yet never does anything about it, am turned on by that sliver of boxer that sometimes peeks through or a boys calves in those shorts? i would say that’s a legitimate argument, as girls are more likely than you would suspect to be attracted to a guy’s back or abs.

and then, there’s also the rationalization that dress codes are somehow supposed to prepare teenagers for the real world. but, assuming that there happen to be occupations outside of offices and courtrooms and banks, this is quite possibly the worst explanation. yes, it’s possible to get discriminated against depending on what you wear, but no cop is going to stop you and hand you a ticket because your dress was four fifths of an inch too short

i don’t want to see anyone’s underwear at school, girl or guys’, but i am completely over the stress and high-horse factor associated with dress code. it’s great if a girl covers herself up or wears short shorts in the summer, but stop acting like your opinion should matter so much. but now that i’m thinking about it, maybe they do prepare people for the real world- girls experience the discrimination that comes with being a woman and boys learn that it’s okay to blame an entire gender for their shortcomings.

“What in hell is a girl with hips like yours doing selling death?”*

this sounds like a drastic example from welcome to the monkey house, but it really doesn’t fall so far from what i’ve heard. of course, substitute selling death with other things, but that’s not the main idea.

i’m a fan of modesty**, but that’s only for myself. it’s important not to decide a woman’s value based on the shortness or length of their skirt.

*title and quote from one of my favorite short stories, welcome to the monkey house, from my favorite collection of short stories, also welcome to the monkey house.

**but what is modesty? isn’t it different for every person, based on height and weight, so entirely unobjective? call me when there’s a number attached to this.

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Great Divide.”

up until recently, i only read fiction. it started with the boxcar children and nancy drew and slowly progressed towards those teen romance novels that are all the same and has now matured into various genres of fiction. i try my best to diversify my taste, but the farthest i’ve gone is kurt vonnegut, in contrast to the rainbow rowell and john green. my mom has always wanted me to be interested in nonfiction, and my dad hints his hopes for me by giving me books about optics or camera manuals every once in a while. but while i think knowledge is something i, personally, could always benefit from, the act of reading a book (that isn’t assigned in class) in and of itself is a break. and the contents should be make-believe, because knowing about reflections isn’t going to nullify the horrors of a bad day. obviously this makes me unrealistic, expecting the best (and most impossible) scenario. but i like my choices. they make me who i am, and i’m quite glad to say i don’t regret that.

fangirl (day forty nine)

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breakfast of champions (day forty)

i would just like to point out that i have yet to read this novel. it’s one of the stories in the book i checked out from the library but i haven’t gotten there yet. though, i feel like the title is entirely irrelevant to meals and that it talks about something like elitism or the meaning of life or something. 

i am quite a superstitious person. just yesterday, i took a walk around my neighbourhood and a black cat stopped ahead on my right side, and i stared at it for a full minute, as if to say “i dare you. walk. in. front. of. me.” [i then spent the next few moments battling myself over whether or not it actually crossed my path and decided that the way it trotted across the street was too diagonal to count as a full fledged crossing] i refuse to walk near sacred seals and go out of my way to avoid ladders, as if one is suddenly going to put itself over my head, but everything i do is with the motto better safe than sorry.

i just finished tennis tryouts, and i attribute my success to the continuation of a pattern. over a course of around fourteen days, i perfected the art of winning a match. it had nothing to do with cardio or strength training but entirely consisted of making sure i dressed, ate, and thought the same every day. and that i watched the australian open the night before. my breakfast of champions rarely failed me, and if i lost my match i blamed eating my breakfast sandwich on the car or drinking regular milk instead of soymilk. i’ve always been a careful and mythical person, but my mom found this disturbing to say the least. i tried to compare myself to one of the olympic athletes who listens to the same songs in the same orders before each game but then i realized i’m basing everything off of luck and belief rather than hard work. a sad realization, i now see, but i’ll believe what i want.

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welcome to new york, it’s been waiting for you

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Terminal Time.”

it’s odd. airports can be some of the most unpleasant places, with the angst-filled beginning to family vacations, public bathrooms and unpredictable temperatures, but i love spending time in them. if you’re spending time inside an airport, you’re either waiting to board or waiting for someone else. either way, it’s the king of all metaphors- a new beginning. my flights are rarely delayed- in fact my family usually rushes to terminals and gates. i’ve even caused my dad to miss a flight, but that’s another story. i’ve rarely had the opportunity to really explore an airport, but it holds all these possibilities (mostly of types of food, but still).

my favorite airport is, by far, jfk international. while i was waiting for the person to pick me up for camp (it turns out that he had been a few feet away from me the entire time- his backpack was covering the words on his shirt), i started reading catcher in the rye. it was a rocky beginning for me, and the fact that holden spend the entire novel wandering around new york flew over my head. i ate an overpriced burger in a diner near the destinations and luggage area and tried to pay attention to the novel, but it was impossible. it ended taking the entire summer to finish that short book, only with the excitement of my more northern friends to fuel me.

going home from jfk was a much different experience. from a tourist’s perspective, it was hard to tell that you were in new york. everything seemed dark as i ate my panda express (i definitely should’ve gone with shake shack), as if “the city that never sleeps” was nowhere near. it might just have been the crappy time i had at camp, but i was really dejected at not being able to roam around more. i wish i had gotten a cheap massage or manicure or bought some better magazines, but i was hurried and the last thing i wanted to do was buy one of those cheap sweatshirts in hudson news or something. maybe i would’ve read some kurt vonnegut if i had found a quality bookstore, or found a lounge area better than the stiff chairs in the gates.

well, no use dwelling in the past. i do hope that i go back soon.

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an enticing challenge (day twenty four)

i love libraries. every time i walk into one, i feel a mix of nostalgia and excitement about novels and children’s biographies and dvds in wrinkly plastic cases and child-like decorations. i can’t remember the address of one of my homes, but i can walk through any of the public libraries i’ve visited with a blindfold on. nothing seems to change in public libraries- the computers that haven’t been changed since the second bush won office, the community advertisements in the bulletins, and most certainly, the books.

i’ll admit, i get pretty annoyed when i can’t find the new novel i want on the shelves, but it makes me happy to know that a. this library won’t be the victim of a shameless revamping or b. another enthusiastic teenager picked it up and realized it was worth reading. yesterday, i picked up the perks of being a wallflower and vonnegut: novels and stories 1963-1973. while checking these out, one of my school librarians asked me if i was going to participate in doing the 2015 read harder challenge. i don’t pay attention when i don’t need to (and frankly sometimes when i do), so i had completely overlooked the stack of dark blue flyers on the shelves. she thought i would be interested because i read so much (her words, not mine) and it honestly left me with a warm feeling. it’s not quite popular on the internet or maybe she made the flyer, but this site explains the categories in which you can basically play book bingo and win things. the lovely end of a quite crappy day, this encounter made me inexplicably happy. it was kind of a perfect close if i hadn’t forgot my vest and rice krispies treats under the check out kiosk.

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