Remember that whole 30 day challenge? Yeah, me neither.
I'll pick it up again when summer begins. It's not that I haven't had anything to blog about; I've had a lot to say, I just haven't had the time. I shouldn't say that I don't have the time. I do, I just make excuses to not blog. If it's any consolation, I have a long, long list of potential blog posts saved in my drafts. I'll get around to them eventually. For now, I'm stopping the challenge. There's too much going on for my blog to be my first priority: such as school.
School is insane, but I love it. I used to say that I always felt that I needed to graduate this year. Perhaps I said that because I have a lot of friends who are graduating and moving away this year. I have a slight fear of being left alone. That's a lie, it's a huge fear. I felt that I needed to graduate or I'd lose contact with everyone who's leaving. Admittedly, I think that will happen with most of them. How unfortunate. Regardless, my perspective has changed a little bit. My friend, Emily, and I are seriously considering being Super Seniors: someone who stays an extra year in high school. Essentially, it's repeating the 12th grade. We were talking about it today and we could organize our schedules so that we barely don't have enough credits to graduate and then take both high school classes and college classes during our last year. I don't know, is it a bad idea? I really think it'd be better for both of us, especially considering how we seem to be the ONLY ONES WHO ARE PLANNING ON PAYING FOR COLLEGE! What the heck? We've talked to so many kids whose parents have their college paid for. Yeah, that's a great way to prepare your kid for the real world. Anyway, I'm just looking for feedback. I view it as a way to give yourself just an extra year to save for college and prepare. Others view it as a fear of moving on, which I'm not, I just think it'd be fun. Am I just going through a phase? I don't know. What do you think? I have a lot of time to think it over. I guess we'll see.
Sorry this post is so poorly written. I'm just vomiting my train of thought onto a keyboard and making it somewhat legible. I'll do better next time.
Pinky promise.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Day 4
Day 4: Your parents.
I love how none of these prompts provide any type of specificity. How could I possibly begin to narrow down this topic? Where do I begin? And what can I even say? I think it’s fair to say that my parents are fairly normal. Y’know, in the sense that they provide constant embarrassment in public places; are immature enough to laugh really hard at “that’s what she said” jokes, tease me the way a friend would, and all the while they can ground me for being stupid. They teach me, they support me, they make fun of me, they laugh at me, they laugh with me, and they occasionally borrow money.
I love how none of these prompts provide any type of specificity. How could I possibly begin to narrow down this topic? Where do I begin? And what can I even say? I think it’s fair to say that my parents are fairly normal. Y’know, in the sense that they provide constant embarrassment in public places; are immature enough to laugh really hard at “that’s what she said” jokes, tease me the way a friend would, and all the while they can ground me for being stupid. They teach me, they support me, they make fun of me, they laugh at me, they laugh with me, and they occasionally borrow money.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Day 2
Day 2: Explain the meaning behind your blog name.
Surely you've heard the original phrase that created my blog name, yes? If not, too bad, because my mom follows my blog and she'd be really mad if I used profanity. Ju[S]t r[H]yme 'wh[I]t' un[T]il you get it.
There really isn't much to say about my blog name. Now, in all deserving credit, the brilliance behind the blog name ought to go to my dad. Let's just say his immaturity pays off well. It was creative, catchy, and comical. Is there any other reason to create a blog name? Get real, this is not a competition of sincerity - it's a battle of "whits". Haha, I'm punny. I s'pose my point here is that the reason I started this blog in the first place was to create a way to write in a relaxed fashion. I wanted something that was entertaining to the audience while exploring broad topics. My other blog, however, is a writer's blog without a doubt. I had a limited audience with my other blog because not everyone is a writer, and not everyone cares about the Odyssey, and not everyone shares the same vocabulary as I.
I guess the name ties into what I'm trying to communicate with everyone. Regardless of how many edits I do per post, or how many people really do like my writing: stuff happens. A teacher, whom I admire very much, once told me that the only person I can control is myself. He said that, despite all my efforts, I will never be able to please everyone. But, here's the crucial part of that, by putting yourself out there, you're doing everything in your power to please someone; and that vulnerabilty is the best and worst part of life. So, Whit Happens? Call this my way of exposing myself. Degrade me, insult me, judge me, criticize me, but, y'know, it happens and I can live with that.
Surely you've heard the original phrase that created my blog name, yes? If not, too bad, because my mom follows my blog and she'd be really mad if I used profanity. Ju[S]t r[H]yme 'wh[I]t' un[T]il you get it.
There really isn't much to say about my blog name. Now, in all deserving credit, the brilliance behind the blog name ought to go to my dad. Let's just say his immaturity pays off well. It was creative, catchy, and comical. Is there any other reason to create a blog name? Get real, this is not a competition of sincerity - it's a battle of "whits". Haha, I'm punny. I s'pose my point here is that the reason I started this blog in the first place was to create a way to write in a relaxed fashion. I wanted something that was entertaining to the audience while exploring broad topics. My other blog, however, is a writer's blog without a doubt. I had a limited audience with my other blog because not everyone is a writer, and not everyone cares about the Odyssey, and not everyone shares the same vocabulary as I.
I guess the name ties into what I'm trying to communicate with everyone. Regardless of how many edits I do per post, or how many people really do like my writing: stuff happens. A teacher, whom I admire very much, once told me that the only person I can control is myself. He said that, despite all my efforts, I will never be able to please everyone. But, here's the crucial part of that, by putting yourself out there, you're doing everything in your power to please someone; and that vulnerabilty is the best and worst part of life. So, Whit Happens? Call this my way of exposing myself. Degrade me, insult me, judge me, criticize me, but, y'know, it happens and I can live with that.
Day 1
In my unoriginality, my friend Cassy and I decided to take a 30 day blog challenge. I'm already a day behind. Ha. Oh well, none of you really care anyway.
Day 1: Introduction, recent picture, and 15 interesting facts about yourself.
I already created an introduction to my personality, my blog, my life...it's the first blogpost on here. So, don't be lazy (or do, I don't care) and go back to read it.
UGH. Recent picture? How is this relevent to my writing? OBVIOUSLY a mom created these prompts. But, hey, I'm feeling cooperative today. HERE. Enjoy it, brat.
That had absolutely nothing to do with anything.
Anyway, back to the prompt.
My 15 facts:
1. I really hate writing facts about myself.
2. It irks me to think I'm not as original as I'd like to be. (Hello, I have a blog...)
3. I quite honestly love running; I just can't do it.
4. Whenever I see moms jogging together, I want to throw rocks at them. No, I can't explain these emotions.
5. This has taken me 15 minutes to come up 5 FACTS!
6. I'm impatient.
7. I miss debate.
8. If I had the option, I'd sleep at school.
9. I love music. Duh.
10. In my humble opinion, you shouldn't complain unless you're perfect in the subject you're complaining about. In other words, I'M the only who's allowed to complain!
11. I'm sarcastic. Embrace it or go away.
12. I have a "minimalist personality".
13. I spend more time planning for my funeral than my wedding.
14. I love devouring delicious books. (No, I don't actually eat them...idiot.)
15. I spell the "wrong way". ie: colour, favourite, centre, etc. (It drives my mum and Socratic teacher INSANE.)
Just so you know, having to create this post has put me in a really bad mood. But...then again, everything makes me mad.
Day 1: Introduction, recent picture, and 15 interesting facts about yourself.
I already created an introduction to my personality, my blog, my life...it's the first blogpost on here. So, don't be lazy (or do, I don't care) and go back to read it.
UGH. Recent picture? How is this relevent to my writing? OBVIOUSLY a mom created these prompts. But, hey, I'm feeling cooperative today. HERE. Enjoy it, brat.
That had absolutely nothing to do with anything.
Anyway, back to the prompt.
My 15 facts:
1. I really hate writing facts about myself.
2. It irks me to think I'm not as original as I'd like to be. (Hello, I have a blog...)
3. I quite honestly love running; I just can't do it.
4. Whenever I see moms jogging together, I want to throw rocks at them. No, I can't explain these emotions.
5. This has taken me 15 minutes to come up 5 FACTS!
6. I'm impatient.
7. I miss debate.
8. If I had the option, I'd sleep at school.
9. I love music. Duh.
10. In my humble opinion, you shouldn't complain unless you're perfect in the subject you're complaining about. In other words, I'M the only who's allowed to complain!
11. I'm sarcastic. Embrace it or go away.
12. I have a "minimalist personality".
13. I spend more time planning for my funeral than my wedding.
14. I love devouring delicious books. (No, I don't actually eat them...idiot.)
15. I spell the "wrong way". ie: colour, favourite, centre, etc. (It drives my mum and Socratic teacher INSANE.)
Just so you know, having to create this post has put me in a really bad mood. But...then again, everything makes me mad.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The Old Wicker Tree
Three a.m. poetry...I'm going to bed now. When I wake up I'll call it abstract, as nothing is ever really logical at these wretched hours.
Toss your shoes
Behind the old wicker tree.
Forget your worries,
Leave your anxiety
Tucked beneath your laces.
Sink your toes
Into the soft, cool earth.
Run 'cross the dewed grass and
Release all your troubles.
Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.
Close your eyes,
See the world with your body.
Absorb the sun’s rays and
Flow with the wind
That rustles the leaves.
Let the sun melt your doubts,
The breeze swipe all suspicions.
Submerge yourself
In the gentle current waters and
Drown your uncertainties.
Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.
You tell me that
Soon enough is not fast enough.
Your clothes are sticking,
Shoulders burning,
Eyes drying,
Toes bleeding,
Personality chafing, and
Your shoes could be stolen.
Don’t act so naïve.
We’ll return soon enough.
But soon enough is never
Fast enough for you.
There is no such thing
As spare time.
Silence does not exist, and
How could it?
You have so much to do,
Your mind never rests.
Sleep is optional,
They have pills and beverages now
That force your body to be alert.
Knowledge comes from
Books alone.
Rewards are only received
When you stay in the lines,
Cross no borders,
Do what you’re told,
And work hard – nonstop.
So this is why you must go back.
Don’t grow up so fast.
Play pretend with me once more.
Feed me meals of bark and leaves,
Bring treasures on board our ship of clotheslines and sheets,
Save a damsel in distress, or
Fly to the moon.
Just don’t leave me yet.
But no. . .gather your things from
Behind the old wicker tree.
Your burdens still lie just
Beneath your laces,
Dragging you down with your
Medications,
Cups of coffee, and
Paychecks.
Was it worth it?
Eating without tasting?
Sleeping without dreaming?
Speaking without thinking?
Hearing without listening?
Breathing without living?
My dear, you’re thriving in knowledge,
But knowledge is nothing
Without wisdom.
Don’t grow up so fast.
That, love, will come sooner than you think
And you can’t go back.
Toss your shoes
Behind the old wicker tree.
Forget your worries,
Leave your anxiety
Tucked beneath your laces.
Sink your toes
Into the soft, cool earth.
Run 'cross the dewed grass and
Release all your troubles.
Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.
Close your eyes,
See the world with your body.
Absorb the sun’s rays and
Flow with the wind
That rustles the leaves.
Let the sun melt your doubts,
The breeze swipe all suspicions.
Submerge yourself
In the gentle current waters and
Drown your uncertainties.
Don’t look back.
We’ll return soon enough.
You tell me that
Soon enough is not fast enough.
Your clothes are sticking,
Shoulders burning,
Eyes drying,
Toes bleeding,
Personality chafing, and
Your shoes could be stolen.
Don’t act so naïve.
We’ll return soon enough.
But soon enough is never
Fast enough for you.
There is no such thing
As spare time.
Silence does not exist, and
How could it?
You have so much to do,
Your mind never rests.
Sleep is optional,
They have pills and beverages now
That force your body to be alert.
Knowledge comes from
Books alone.
Rewards are only received
When you stay in the lines,
Cross no borders,
Do what you’re told,
And work hard – nonstop.
So this is why you must go back.
Don’t grow up so fast.
Play pretend with me once more.
Feed me meals of bark and leaves,
Bring treasures on board our ship of clotheslines and sheets,
Save a damsel in distress, or
Fly to the moon.
Just don’t leave me yet.
But no. . .gather your things from
Behind the old wicker tree.
Your burdens still lie just
Beneath your laces,
Dragging you down with your
Medications,
Cups of coffee, and
Paychecks.
Was it worth it?
Eating without tasting?
Sleeping without dreaming?
Speaking without thinking?
Hearing without listening?
Breathing without living?
My dear, you’re thriving in knowledge,
But knowledge is nothing
Without wisdom.
Don’t grow up so fast.
That, love, will come sooner than you think
And you can’t go back.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Worldly Classification of Popularity. AKA: Why You Suck and What You Need to Change.
Where am I? I think it's more than obvious that I'm not at the top of the social food chain. Google tries to be nice and create a pyramid, but we all know it's a food chain. Let's face it, whoever is on the top feeds off of the bribes, desperation, and special favors of everyone at the bottom who doesn't want their social status cremated. In a traditional high school, the 'Preps' win over the teachers, the entire student body, and any mindless clones who happen to make eye contact with them. The 'Druggies' are typically only admired because they have direct access to the drugs that everyone wants to become at least slightly popular. The 'Skaters' can balance on wood with wheels and hide their greasy hair with ugly beanies. They're obviously only liked for their center of gravity. The 'Rockstars'...ha! What? Why are they up there? What does that even mean? Uhm...people like electric guitars I guess. Anyway...the 'Nerds and Geeks' wear button up, plaid shirts, pants that are too small, and talk nonstop about dragons, video games, and all two experiences they've had communicating with the opposite sex. The 'Artists' speak in riddles and never, under any circumstances, take out their ear buds. The 'Goths' dress in black, purposely paint on a pasty face, and enjoy scaring kids as a weekend hobby. The "Emo, Scene, Outcasts, etc" don't talk to anyone, write profanity on the bathroom stalls, and frequently get knocked over by passing kids.
Surely I'm not the only one who is ready to bomb Hollywood.
Cliques and the "in-crowd" have been ever so slightly pushing my buttons of late. And it's not for the reason that most people think. Most people try to brush off my agitation with the same old, "You're just jealous you're not hanging out with them." And yes, the few people I do play with say 'them' as if they were discussing infectious tumors seeping puss out of clogging pores.
Sorry, that was a bit graphic.
But, here's the thing: I'm really not. Their existence in general just irks me.
I'm tired of listening to dumb people talk.
I'm tired of listening to cheerleaders gossip.
I'm tired of hearing annoying sounds in the middle of a lecture.
I'm tired of finding garbage in my locker.
I'm tired of knowing that the traditional high school popularity food chain is slowly closing in on me.
Maeser was once a place of unity and equality. The few cliques that popped up died out fast and each person was unique. Why else do you think it received an instant success? Students outside of Maeser claim that the only reason it's a good school is because they only let freakishly smart kids in. Really? Where'd you escape from?! It's a good school because they teach us to be individuals, to be independent, to question the status quo, and to discover truth for ourselves. Lately though, it's been falling back a little bit. Not incredulously, but enough to irritate me some. In two weeks there were three drug busts. Suspensions and expulsions are being handed out like China hands out babies. The bobble-head girls walk shoulder to shoulder in our four-foot wide halls making getting past them about as difficult as squeezing toothpaste back into the tube. And, to top it all off, lice has been reported. Nice guys. Heaven forbid, you could wash your hair.
I get annoyed over small, asinine things.
Perhaps it's my arrogance becoming a little more receptive.
Maybe I'm tired.
Maybe I'm hungry.
Whatever the cause, I'm protesting certain people's existence. I have a list of all the people who send me into anxiety attacks. I'll stand in the hall, every day, for 36 days with my harmonica and poster board of whoever I choose on my list.
I'm mad.
I'm ranting.
I think I'm all done now.
Whit Happens
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