Pre-Thanksgiving Dinner

Yes, so I think I finally managed to satiate my insatiable, month-long craving for raw fish and sushi tonight by going to Sushi Park. In fact, I don't think I'll be craving sushi for a long time...

Round One!

Round Two!

Though I admit, while I like the variety, the buffet sort of kills the joy of having sushi, of which each piece has to be enjoyed individually and not wolfed down as I definitely did tonight. Regardless, eating with six other people certainly made it a fun, fulfilling get-together. Sadly enough though, despite eating the complete opposite of what people would eat on Thanksgiving, I think having dinner with friends is as close as I'm getting to feeling the feelings associated with that traditional turkey dinner, that of friendship, familial warmth, and camaraderie.

The Pursuit of Happiness

As I was venting about many things today to various companions, I ultimately came to one conclusion:

Everything I've done thus far this year has failed to make me happy.

I'm looking back at the past three months now, and do you know what I recall? Discomfort, misery, sadness. And you know what? It's not college applications. No, college applications actually make me happy, because they give me the chance to write and they give me hope that I can get far away from everything I'm going through right now. Far, far away...

I want to think that everything I'm doing now is simply ensuring my happiness in the future. But I have no proof, and how do you expect me to feel relaxed with no guarantee that I'm going to have a successful life?

Tell me why, with a 100 average (no wait, a 99.99 average that's literally .002 points away from the top tier), I'm still only ninth in the class? Why is that, despite my hard work, colleges are still willing to reject me merely because my average, my average and not my true intelligence or ambition, falls below eight others?

And some teachers are lovely. Most of them are. But others... others are just pure bitches. And I can understand that it's my fault that I'm not doing well if I'm not doing the work. I'm not going to be stupid and blame a teacher just because I'm not doing well. But when some teachers just give you a hard time, or find the need to make you feel like an absolute idiot, you can't really expect me to say something like, "Oh, I'll just work harder next quarter."

I work so hard, and no one but my peers will ever understand that. And that's because they work hard too. We all work hard, and we don't need teachers to make things more difficult for us.

For example, I actually can't decide who is more outrageous. My close-minded health teacher, who I had to deal with two years ago, or my math teacher, whose nasty, rotten attitude I have to deal with now.

"I don't understand why you took off points if this is right."

"Oh, well even though it's right, it's not the answer I had."

Sorry for thinking outside the box.

"I don't understand this problem."

"Oh, come on! How can you not understand something as simple as that?"

Oh, forgive me! I sincerely apologize for wasting your time with this utterance of my breath. I won't seek answers to my petty questions again.

And she wonders why, in addition to my classmates, little me "doesn't seek extra help."

That's definitely not all, but this is the senselessness kids have to deal with today. But who understands? No one. We can't do anything about it either. All of us just have to keep working in hope of finally reaching that future we can only assume is before us.

And I wonder, is anyone really happy?

HOPE

Okay, so it's one in the morning, I'm tired, I haven't napped, and I've just got one thing to say:

I UNDERSTAND THE CALCULUS HOMEWORK!

(And I think I might actually get things right!)

Oh em gee.

Return to Normalcy

It's 6:40 PM. She's out the door, fast, box cradled in arms. The torch has been passed. Twenty more minutes...

And it's finally over.

The Intel Science Talent Search is perhaps the worst possible thing a person could do to himself. The work is difficult, the process is stressful, and despite how hard one works, there is no guarantee that he is going to win. And even though we can each say, "Wow, I did get a lot out of this," there's no denying the fact that we're all going to be at least a little disappointed if we did not win at least something.

However, I don't think the program's unique circumstance of being a four-year course has ever been more obvious, and today, we may have actually became a family. Nine of us scrambling, fingers typing, papers flying, all were taking place in the small space that is the research room. Through the mist of pending chaos, we helped each other through and we all made it to the end. The difficulty brought us together, forced us to rely on each other, and as a result, all boundaries were crossed despite time ticking mercilessly on.

But we did it. We finished, and the completion brings about a close and a return to normalcy. No more skipping class. No more abnormal candy ingestion. No more unusual and unnecessary stress.

But as I look around the confines of my own room, thinking about the work I've missed and how much work I have left to do, I wonder if perhaps normalcy was not what I sought after all.

Kill Me, Calculus

So today was a rather interesting day. As I'm looking at the clock, I'm realizing that I've been up for about 20 hours now.

Twenty hours may not sound like a lot (believe me, it isn't), but if you do the math you'll realize that I've been up since 3 AM. But alas! I have not taken a nap yet (though I admit, it was close).

In fact, today was probably the first time I really ever took a nap into the early, early morning and stayed up until I went to school. Since I have the weakest willpower in the world when it comes to being tired and going to sleep, I usually end up falling back to sleep for at least 15 minutes before I need to get ready for school. So naturally, being in school this morning was really quite weird.

And you know what's even weirder?

This morning, while getting ready, I tripped and slammed my toe into my Calculus textbook which was lying on the floor. Okay, so I have a messy room. I'll clean it soon.

But then I go to first period, Calculus of course (because how could I possibly start off my days any better?), and we get back our tests. After the usual "I don't know what to do with you guys" talk, she hands back our tests, and I more or less did as well as I thought I did.

Thirty-seven, baby. Oh yeah.

Oh wait. I got a point back for putting a "good wrong answer." So it's really a thirty-eight.

Lucky me.

To make matters worse, even though my class got bagels today, I stabbed myself with the butter knife while attempting to cut mine in half. (And I don't care what you say; yes, I cut my finger with a [metal] butter knife and you damn well better believe that it still hurts.)

Did I mention that it was her knife that she brought from home too? Nah, didn't think so.

Coincidence? Of course, but it all still sucks.

Oh, Calculus, how I love you so.

Smell of Smoke

So I wake up this morning, open my bedroom door, walk to the bathroom, and suddenly the smell of smoke hits me right in the face. Worried, I follow the scent to the kitchen, where it is slightly stronger but not by much. I check the appliances, but nothing is on, and nothing seems charred. I call my father to ask if he knows anything about it, and he tells me that he turned off the stove at 3 AM after my mother had left it on and fallen asleep.

Hanging up, I then thought, "Wow, I could have died last night."

Thanks, Mom.

Then later I get a piercing headache, maybe from the essays I was writing, but more likely from the smell, which was dissipating through my house despite leaving the kitchen windows open. So then I fell asleep again despite sleeping for 12 straight hours last night. After waking from my nap and returning from my piano lesson though, I then realize that the carbon monoxide detector is gone. My father asks my brother if he took it for himself, and being the selfish bastard he is he says yes.

I then thought, "Wow, I could have died at any time."

Thanks, Brother.

At least my father decided to have some fun with it...

"You should have heard your mom this morning. She ran out of the room into the kitchen panicking to turn off the stove. I turned it off already, but I was just pretending to sleep to see her reaction."

Wow, Dad. Wow.

Breaking News: Sleep is Good

Sleep Loss Lowers Grades.

"It's very hard to get a teenager to get 8.5-9.5 hours of sleep."

You know, all I can say is...

NO SHIT.

Who doesn't realize that teenagers aren't getting enough sleep these days? And whose fault do you think that is?

Kids these days have it so good. They can handle hours of homework. You're lazy; go take up a hobby. You're fat; go take up a sport. Stop complaining and go get a job. They can handle it...

Oh yes, we can handle it all, can't we?

Why don't you all just shut up?

Instead of doing all these studies, why doesn't anyone just do something about it? It isn't a problem that can't be fixed. If you're going to expect so much out of kids these days then be practical. Stop trying to kill us. You really are killing us!

Sigh... and I personally love the fact that I'm getting a third of the recommended hours of sleep each night. In fact, I don't even want to talk about the health and emotional problems I will be/am having because of this. (Can you tell?) Oh, but my favorite part is the fact that fifteen minutes can apparently make a difference between an A student and a B student.

Could you imagine if I'd slept a little more?

I'd be a fucking genius.