Expectations vs. Reality

When people think of spring break, they think of parties, sleeping in, traveling, you know, typical fun activities.

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At least that’s what I was expecting. It turns out I was mostly wrong. The following is a record of my Spring Break.

My Spring Break:

Saturday: I slept in. I hung out with my mom and brother and watched Thirteen Reasons Why. Also I played with my rabbits Newt and Sigourney for an extra long time, then packed them up and took them to my friend Amber Wozniak’s house in order for her to pet-sit them.

Sunday: Woke up early. Me and my brother were dropped off at the airport, then we took a flight to Vegas. Once we were on the plane I proceeded to ask my brother If this flight was going to be like Armageddon. Not the best timing on my part i’ll admit. My dad picked us up from the airport and filled us in on what was happening over there. My step-siblings were there when we arrived at the house and we hugged them and were happy to see them. We ate a great dinner only partially interrupted by me spilling my water cup on the table. Then we hung out a little more and went to sleep.

Monday: Dad, Karsyn, and Owen stayed home sick from work and school today. We did a puzzle together. We talked about some things casually together yet my step-mom Laura got mad for some reason. We went on a walk later in the day and my dad told me and Jax that it wasn’t going well between them.

Tuesday: It was an uneventful day. When Karsyn came home from school we watched Sherlock Holmes. Owen taught me how to play a song on the piano. We played clue when dad got home.

Wednesday: We mostly hung out at home. Karsyn stayed home again because she was having problems with her IBD. She just recently came home from having being in the hospital for twelve days. I was a little worried about her. We basically watched her favorite show “The Middle” all day.

Thursday: Karsyn and Owen went to their own father’s house and me, my brother and my dad got to hang out. We went bowling. We looked at possible apartment choices for him to move to when after they separated.We went to Golden Spoon. We watched two movies. One was really depressing.

Friday: We woke up early and went to the airport again. I was sad to leave my dad alone. We got back home and my aunt picked us up from the airport. On the ride to our house we made up a song about the airport taxi company’s phone number 562-444-4444. She dropped us off at the home Me, my mom, and my brother share with my grandparents and other aunt. Mom came home shortly after with my rabbits. I went to dinner with my grandma, her twin sister, my aunt, my brother, my uncle and his wife who came down to visit from Texas. We went to Souplantation. I like their muffins.

Saturday: We went to my second cousin’s first birthday party. She’s my mom’s half brother’s son’s daughter. Her name is Elenore. It took about an hour and a half to get to where the party was. She had a lot of presents and her parents even got her a special cake for her to smash. She’s really cute. Even with all the presents there all she really wanted to do was play with a flower. As we were driving home Amber called me asking if I wanted to come over. I accepted her invitation and my mom dropped me off at her house. When I first got there she and her twin brother were playing Mario Cart. After watching them play and playing a little myself her family and I went to a Mexican restaurant. I got the soup. Then I went home because it was already getting late.

Sunday: On the last day of Spring break, all I really did was lounge around. I did order my prom dress. It’s in color Ink blue. I felt a little sad about my dad and his situation. Spring Break was not at all like I’d expected it to be. But then again, when is anything like I’d expect it to be?

Finding Forrester vs. Catcher in the Rye

From what I’ve seen, the novel by J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye and the movie Finding Forrester, are astronomically similar despite their many differences. In some ways it almost seems like the writer and the director of the movie had just finished reading the book before they started on the film. The main similarities I’ve seen lie in the characters personalities and some situations that the characters have experienced.

The Catcher in the Rye is a book about a troubled boy named Holden Caulfield who can’t seem to fit in. He is constantly dropping out of school and doesn’t have many friends. After leaving his most recent school, Pencey, he goes out into the city of New York to find himself because he can’t bring himself to tell his parents. According to Holden, all that’s out there is a bunch of phonies and their are only a few people in the world he can fully trust. Maybe retelling his story can give him the peace that he really needs in his life.

The movie, Finding Forrester is about a boy, Jamal Wallis, who is living in a bad area in New York. His life gets turned upside down when he gets accepted to an esteemed rich-kid high school because of his high test scores. He has a few friends, but he doesn’t really act like himself around them. The only place he can be himself is in the apartment of a retired writer, who helps him not only with his writing but also  with his life.

One similarity that I found between these movies is the characters personalities. Of course, Jamal can be seen as being the parallel to Holden because they are both very polite but have aspects of their personalities that they only share to the people they are really connected to. Also, they both don’t like other people who are not honest and pure hearted. Another character that is similar is Jamal’s mother and Holden’s mother because they both care for their sons and want them to have the best education. Also, Jamal’s girlfriend can also be compared to Phoebe, Holden’s sister, because they both help their corresponding main character through some tough stuff in their lives. Also, Jamal teaches his girlfriend how to play basketball and Holden teaches Phoebe how to dance. Jamal’s mentor’s personality also bears a striking resemblance to the author J.D. Salinger’s. They are both authors of ridiculously famous books, but are really hermits who don’t publish anything for a long time and share a love of baseball.

 The other similarity I saw between the book and the movie was the similar situations Jamal and Holden go through. They both lost someone special to them, Jamal someone at the end of the movie (no spoilers) and Holden his brother. They both deal with their losses differently, but the impact on them is the same. Also they both have big brothers in their lives and go to (or went to) really prestigious high schools. Lastly, they go through many trials throughout their lives that they can’t just handle by themselves, they need the help of the people who are close to them to get through them.

Life is bittersweet sometimes

All these people on the street

none of whom I’d like to meet

to be a phony is not a big feat

the thought is quite bittersweet.

 

As I get into the vomity cab

all my driver does is crab

all I hear is simple blab

my life is full of listless drab

 

I  get to the perverted hotel

and call someone from my cell

only response is “I’m just swell”

It is best just not to dwell…

 

I head out to a lousy bar

the piano man thinks he’s the star

A girl comes in who enjoys to mar

I hate the phonies so sometimes I spar

 

As I stroll through the park

All my thoughts are dim and dark

maybe someday I’ll overcome this arc

all I need is one little spark.

 

I think of a girl and reminisce

all those moments when life was bliss

but those times leave me with a kiss

and are something that I truly miss.

 

This girl is swooped up by a boy

who treats all his girls just like a toy

he is a jerk and acts all coy

but I know him and his vicious ploy

 

I miss my sister and her skates

I only have these crumby dates

Is my life up to the fates

Will I ever reach those pearly gates?

 

Me and my parents, we should talk

it will not come as a shock

I’ll go watch the ducks from the dock

and count down the minutes on the clock

until I move on, just like the flock.

I’m still mush

There was once a time when I was just a prepubescent mush ball of awkward. This was during middle school, the worst three years of school for me. Of course I had to have a crush on a boy and submit myself to the torture of liking someone. I had met him in the fourth grade when we were seated next to each other in Mrs. Flores’ class. He had this quality about him where e could charm the pants off of anyone he talked to. So when he sat next to me I immediately liked him. We got to talking, and he was really nice and we would have funny conversations almost everyday. I even told him this funny joke and it made him laugh so hard… one of my finest moments as a comedian.

We then went to the same middle school, he became very popular and was friends with everybody so we seldom spoke. One time he made fun of my feet when he was standing right behind me, so I turned to look at him and all he could say was “oh sorry”. Other than that no further contact. One of my friends did have a class with him so I’d ask her how he was doing and want to know if he was dating anybody because as a middle schooler this was vital information. I would try to see him as much as I could throughout the day like a dazed little lovebird, but to no avail. He, like the charming little boy he was had a few girlfriends, while I was a little awkward bean and did nothing in middle school.

Now that I’m in high school, I see him every one in a while when we pass each other in the halls and wonder if he still remembers me. Also I wonder if I’d told him that I’ve had feelings for him while we were still in elementary school if things would be different. But, of course after becoming more mature (hopefully) I realized that you can’t get hung up on cute boys who call your feet big. You got to just live your life and be happy with yourself and it’ll all be good. I immediately regret telling you any of this.

The International Day of Play

Yesterday I participated in the International Day of play. I first heard about this day in sixth grade, when the entire 6th grade class participated in the day of play. We had gone outside for the entire day and played games like kickball and handball, which was pretty bomb for my younger self. But since then, I had not participated in that event for many years. It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that my rad English teacher reintroduced it to me. He told us we were to bring anything we wanted to play with, and we were to commence playing the following day.

Of course, because I have the worst memory, this is what happened inside my head the day he told us:

Me: Wow, we’re having a game day tomorrow! I’ve got to bring a game in! I wonder what i’ll bring….

Gnat: What does it matter? It’s not like you’re going to remember to bring one in.

Me: What do you mean? I have a better memory than a gnat!

Gnat: So what are you gonna bring?

Me: What are we talking about again?

Gnat: The fact that you compared yourself to me at all insults my entire species. -_-

Luckily, my teacher knew that teenagers have a shorter attention span than a goldfish and that we would forget; he came prepared with tons of board games to play with. My friend selected the game Headbandz,then we rounded up a few people to play with. In total we had us four girls and later another teacher (who was really funny and had two hands but only one thumb) joined in. It ended up being a blast and pretty chill, and especially hilarious when the teacher forgot that a bee was an insect.

So, I believe that having this day was really fun and would be beneficial for every class to have. For my school the day was placed right after finals, so having that period to play was a real stress reliever for the students in my class. I think that the entire school, if not all schools should participate in the International Day of Play for the mental health of the students. If we didn’t have at least one day of fun in order wind down, then we would probably shut down from too much stimulation and our brains would most likely explode.

The Salvation of Song

In the 1800’s, if someone were to wander deep into the South, and saunter near the vast plantations, they are sure to hear the many voices of slaves, who have been working for hours and days and months and all of their lives in these fields, their song full of sadness and pain.  “They would sing, as a chorus, to words which to many would seem unmeaning jargon, but which, nevertheless, were full of meaning to themselves.” (Fredrick Douglass, 17) When I first read about the slaves singing when they’re sad, I was confused. I had previously thought that people would sing when they were feeling joyful and at peace. Now I understand that not just slaves, but all people, sing for a variety of reasons and for every feeling they have.

“No doubt people have always sung — people everywhere, at all times and in all cultures. Young people, old people, children. Even babies sing. Happy people, sad people, people in crisis, people in prison, people about to die, people about to give birth…all aspects of human culture involves singing.”   – (Smith Creek Music)

From what I have interpreted, Slaves might sing for the following reasons:

It was Therapeutic

Slaves worked all the time. They worked most of the day, everyday with no breaks. They worked through the pains of hunger and thirst, through the frost of winter and the heat of summer. Working in silence would’ve just left them to act like machines, just going through the motions focusing only on their hurt. Singing songs about their woes, or religion, or their hope to someday achieve happiness might’ve lessened some of the pain. People often need to cry in order to let out their feelings; perhaps the slaves did that by singing their songs.

It Helps Slaves Remember Their Culture

The first slaves we’re brought over from Africa in the very beginning of Slavery. Since then they have reproduced within the confines of slavery, so their descendants were slaves as well. But, the primary African slaves would teach their culture’s songs to their children, and they would pass down from generations. So when slaves farther down the line would sing their ancestor’s songs, they are unified with their fellow slaves, feeling not alone and sing to remember their culture and a time before slavery.

 “… group singing gives … a strong, direct feeling of social cohesion and solidarity.” (Smith Creek Music)

It was a Cry Out to God

The slaves in the South are surrounded by Christian people and Christian churches, so they began to pick up the religion. They would try to learn the religion the best they could, by teaching themsleves and each other. Even in their terrible condition, they prayed to God for help. They also created songs called “Spirituals” to honor God and pray for their salvation. Spirituals have now been preserved and sung by many artists around the world today.

Even in these modern times, slavery is still a problem. Online, one can find many anecdotes of ex-slaves who share their experiences with us so we can see how slavery is still impacting our world today. Here are some stories of past slaves here. While browsing through some of these, I read of one boy who was taken from a village and away from his parents in order to work as a slave. It said what got him through the days of grueling, hard work was remembering and singing the songs of his village. Now, thankfully he has been rescued since, but there are many others still trapped. So, whether it’s for slaves back from the beginning of time or modern slaves, I now know that singing is meaningful and potentially helpful to them all.

Where You At and Where You Wanna Be?

I often ask myself this question when I’m contemplating life, which is often. So, where am I at? Well, I’m living in a  weird neighborhood in Orange County filled with mismatched houses and empty streets. The house that I’m living in is alright, but I think the thing that puts me off the most about this neighborhood is the odd people who live in the houses next to mine. I have a schizophrenic neighbor who often kicks the trees or comes to our door talking about how the Nazis are coming to get her. I also have a neighbor with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder who is normal most of the time then sometimes yells at motorcycles or throws fruit at moving vehicles.

This is not my neighbor, but you’ll get the picture.

Down the street there’s a guy who owns an RV and grows cannabis inside. His dog is nice. Across the street there is a man who beats his wife. My mom heard the yelling one time and called the police; the next week we saw that the wife’s car was still there. My neighborhood is strange and my mom is no longer happy with the people we live with there so we are moving to a house that already holds my grandparents and aunt, but it’s big so it can hold us; and it’s for the best.

Then I think about where I want to be. Which would probably be in a house that fits my entire family comfortably and that’s it really. Then again, I’m grateful for where I am, because some people grow up in the slums, dreaming about just having shelter. To them I think any grass would be greener than their situation, but for others, they need to realize that sometimes the grass is just fine where they are. I would look around at my dismal neighborhood and think about the man who throws fruit, and what it feels like to fling fruit at passing cars when you’re angry…probably very liberating. And that this neighborhood holds some memories of mine that I wouldn’t have without it. And when I leave this neighborhood a piece of it will stay with me for probably all of my life.

Bear Neighborhoods: Fact or Fiction

After watching the movie “Brother Bear” last night, an interest in the lives of bears came into me, nestling itself into my brain. I had always known that bears were cool animals, but didn’t know that much about them. So, I scoured the internet searching for information about bears and their behavior.

There is a scene in the movie where the young bear cub took the older bear to where he (the younger bear) lived. He lived near a river where a bunch of bears interacted and were playing and talking with each other and going about their lives and interacting almost like humans do. So I was wondering, do bears actually act like this? Living in little bear communities like humans live in neighborhoods?

Here’s a video showing the scene in the movie:

After searching the web and comparing the movie to the facts I’ve come up with the following:

• Do they live so close to each other in real life? Yes! Like the movie portrayed, bears are not territorial; so they do share living space with other bears…there are real life bear communities.
• Do they actually talk to each other? Well, bears cannot actually speak English unfortunately, but bears do communicate through grunts and other noises.
• Do they actually interact with each other like neighbors and friends? Bears are actually really social! They generally live in close proximity of each other, and do have conversations (using grunts), and have relationships with other bears (some are friends and others get on each other’s nerves).
• Do they play with each other like the movie? Yes! here’s a video of two cubs wrestling for your enjoyment:
• Are all bears that cute? Yes, yes they are.

In short, bears have become my new favorite animal (thank you Disney!) and entertain me with their human tendencies. I hope reading this you were able things about bears you might not have known. I myself have learned that bears did things I thought were impawsible. I’m sorry about the pun. It was pretty unbearable.  🙂

 

Siblings: Why Do They Exist?

Siblings are pointless, so why do they exist?

All they do is argue, lecture, or put me down

try to convince you they are better or above

which causes me to do more then just a little frown

we live in different worlds yet sleep in the same room

they have their interests and think mine are meaningless

they have no idea what you are doing but just assume

they want their privacy, but love to pry

they forget things too often like my feelings

they anger me purposefully, then don’t get why

but if I didn’t have siblings then where would I be?

probably be getting a lot of alone time

but with all this time and space, I would get lonely

without them I’d have no one to blame

no one to whisper to or bug

it just wouldn’t be the same

So now looking back would I get rid of my pesky brother?

yeah, probably still would.

I say the last line with sarcasm, because if not I’d be hearing from my mother.

 

 

Fun is for Babies

On Halloween, I went to go visit with some family of mine to go trick or treating and pass out candy. It was my job to take the younger kids in the family around the neighborhood to get candy. As we were getting ready in our costumes, I noticed one of my cousins was sitting in the corner with a sour look on her face. Her name is Ashley and she is twelve years old. I walk over to her and ask her what was wrong.

“Halloween is for babies. And I don’t wanna walk around the neighborhood in some stupid costume with all of my baby cousins! It’s so embarrassing.”

“Well, if you don’t go trick or treating with us, then how are you gonna get any candy?”

“Can’t you just get candy for me? And if you don’t, we can always just buy candy from the store.” she said, pouting and crossing her arms at me. Ashley was always like this, ever since she was about eight, thinking that she is much too mature for “childish activities”. She has answer for everything too. During Easter when we were waiting in line to take a picture with the rabbit, she would refuse to go up there because “no rabbit is ever that big.” When she lost her fifth tooth, she said the tooth fairy was “obviously fake because who would want to keep a collection of teeth when they would have to constantly be brushing those nasty things.” We ask her to play blocks with her younger brother and she doesn’t, saying she’s too old for blocks and would rather do something more “big kid” like Barbies. And during Christmas we told her Santa was always watching, and she replied with, “That’s creepy.” and decided that Santa was impossible.

I am seeing a trend that once a child gets older (like teen years) they stop doing things they actually enjoy because it would make them look like “babies” or it would be embarrassing if they did.

An example of these kids is Max in “Hocus Pocus” not wanting to go trick or treating with his younger sister because he’s afraid he might be seen:

I personally think it would be a crime to stop believing or doing, even if it makes you look weird. Wave your weirdo flags high into the air! And don’t stop doing what you love or believing in the magic of Santa even when you get to be wrinkly old ladies or men. Life’s too short to not be yourself.

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