There's a group of guys at my school (mainly in band) that coordinate outfits every so often. Masculine, I know. Last week, the came to school as old men (although they looked more like tacky tourists), and today they dressed up as frat boys. I'll try to get pictures next time.
Anyway, when they dressed up as frat boys, they wore two polo shirts, plaid shorts, visors, and sunglasses. A kid that's in my Choir, Economics, and Physics classes brought AXE and applied it liberally throughout the day.
I'll elaborate--he brought a one ounce can and used the entire thing by the end of our 7th period economics class. I don't have a major problem the smell of AXE, but being exposed to that large of a quantity kinda gets you high. I'm not kidding. I had a major headache, couldn't focus on the teacher was saying, and could hardly comprehend the text. It was incredibly frustrating. One of the kids that sat right by the AXE kid was cringing, so he moved to the other side of the room. My teacher told the AXE kid that he wasn't allowed to wear obnoxious scents to her class again.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Today is a good day.
I was typing up my essay, finishing my Georgia Tech app, when I realized that the September ACT scores are released today. So, I opened up a new tab, logged into my ACT account: lo and behold, I got a 35 composite on the ACT. I'm pretty sure I'm still asleep. Last time I took it, I misbubbled and got a 35 on Math, a 34 on English, a 23 on Reading, and a 31 on Science, with a 31 English/Writing composite. This time, I got a 35 on Math, a 34 on English, a 34 on Reading,and a 35 on science.
Sorry for gloating... I'm kinda pleased right now.
Anyway, here is my second college essay. Once again, if you plagiarize this, I'll probably eat you.
Cliff Mabry set me on the path to enlightenment. He was my semi-Buddhist freshman Humanities teacher with an extreme case of ADHD, who spoke with incredibly slurred speech patterns and had arguably the most cryptic handwriting in existence. He “forgot” to censor the nudity in Romeo and Juliet, explained to us that green M&Ms are aphrodisiacs, and advised us to try snuff. I matured substantially that year. In spite of the questionable example that he set, Mr. Mabry taught our class so much—he taught us to live life to the fullest, and breathe in every small detail that life has to offer. That lesson, the lesson of passion, has remained with me longer than any property of Calculus or law of Physics. Most people don’t get it, though. Saints and poets maybe… they do some.
His class opened my eyes in so many ways—An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge reiterated how transient life is, and how little people appreciate it. Mr. Mabry showed us the brief film as a method of supporting the philosophy of his mantra, The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Willams. And no piece could reinforce it better. When the ticking of the watch became loud and ominous, when each individual blade of grass became visible, life became infinitely more transient. The idea that people only consider how precious life is when they no longer have it struck a chord with me. What good is life if you only appreciate it when it’s gone?
Personally, the fact that so few people pay attention to the beauty of life arouses as much emotion within me as life itself. Take, for example, stars. So many people see stars as pretty flecks of light, but so few stop and admire the beauty of the infinite universe. That kills me. Part of the issue may lie in technology: man has made everything that anyone could possibly want to know or see readily available at the touch of a button. Thus, people are hardly ever forced to look away from their cell phones and computer monitors to see true beauty. Technology also increases the pace of life: people adopt more jobs as technology progresses, gradually morphing into workaholic busybodies. They have to do something, they have to go somewhere, they simply don’t have time to look at how beautiful the moon is or how strange that bird is. But eventually, they’ll regret it. According to Erik Erikson’s eight stages of life, people spend the majority of their life preparing for the productive phase of their life, middle adulthood. Afterward, people are either proud of their experiences or regret them—at this point, most people wonder “if the trip was worth it” and realize that ultimately, the pursuit of success is of little importance, as practically everybody that lives to the stage of late adulthood ends up in a wheelchair, contemplating their life and playing bingo.
Of course, my opinion on the subject is probably biased—I was dragged into late adulthood as a freshman in high school by my crazy English teacher. Don’t get me wrong, the pursuit of success is as much a part of life as regret is; however, in the end, the time spent “smelling the roses” along the way matters more than the time spent accumulating meaningless monetary wealth. After all, so much depends upon a red wheel barrow.
Sorry for gloating... I'm kinda pleased right now.
Anyway, here is my second college essay. Once again, if you plagiarize this, I'll probably eat you.
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
Cliff Mabry set me on the path to enlightenment. He was my semi-Buddhist freshman Humanities teacher with an extreme case of ADHD, who spoke with incredibly slurred speech patterns and had arguably the most cryptic handwriting in existence. He “forgot” to censor the nudity in Romeo and Juliet, explained to us that green M&Ms are aphrodisiacs, and advised us to try snuff. I matured substantially that year. In spite of the questionable example that he set, Mr. Mabry taught our class so much—he taught us to live life to the fullest, and breathe in every small detail that life has to offer. That lesson, the lesson of passion, has remained with me longer than any property of Calculus or law of Physics. Most people don’t get it, though. Saints and poets maybe… they do some.
His class opened my eyes in so many ways—An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge reiterated how transient life is, and how little people appreciate it. Mr. Mabry showed us the brief film as a method of supporting the philosophy of his mantra, The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Willams. And no piece could reinforce it better. When the ticking of the watch became loud and ominous, when each individual blade of grass became visible, life became infinitely more transient. The idea that people only consider how precious life is when they no longer have it struck a chord with me. What good is life if you only appreciate it when it’s gone?
Personally, the fact that so few people pay attention to the beauty of life arouses as much emotion within me as life itself. Take, for example, stars. So many people see stars as pretty flecks of light, but so few stop and admire the beauty of the infinite universe. That kills me. Part of the issue may lie in technology: man has made everything that anyone could possibly want to know or see readily available at the touch of a button. Thus, people are hardly ever forced to look away from their cell phones and computer monitors to see true beauty. Technology also increases the pace of life: people adopt more jobs as technology progresses, gradually morphing into workaholic busybodies. They have to do something, they have to go somewhere, they simply don’t have time to look at how beautiful the moon is or how strange that bird is. But eventually, they’ll regret it. According to Erik Erikson’s eight stages of life, people spend the majority of their life preparing for the productive phase of their life, middle adulthood. Afterward, people are either proud of their experiences or regret them—at this point, most people wonder “if the trip was worth it” and realize that ultimately, the pursuit of success is of little importance, as practically everybody that lives to the stage of late adulthood ends up in a wheelchair, contemplating their life and playing bingo.
Of course, my opinion on the subject is probably biased—I was dragged into late adulthood as a freshman in high school by my crazy English teacher. Don’t get me wrong, the pursuit of success is as much a part of life as regret is; however, in the end, the time spent “smelling the roses” along the way matters more than the time spent accumulating meaningless monetary wealth. After all, so much depends upon a red wheel barrow.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Make 'Em Laugh!
This morning, I had an audition for district choir, which is why I was awake at 5:00 am on a Saturday. I got back home from the audition at about 5:00 pm, at which point, I tutored a pal of mine in Calculus, went to Comedy Cabaret, than watched the Saturday Night Live season 36 premeire.
For those who don't know, Comedy Cabaret is the annual improv show that the high school theater department puts on. It's kinda like Who's Line is it Anyway?. Generally, it's pretty hilarious, though it does have its dull moments. Still, it was funnier than Saturday Night Live today. Sorry, I'm a critic.
Speaking of SNL, that was weak. Seriously. The hat sketch and Actor II Actor were moderately funny, but the rest of it was either bland, revolting, lewd, or a combination of all three. Don't let me down! (But I do love it when they sneak previous cast members onto the show...)
Anyway, here are a couple pictures of ComCab:
For those who don't know, Comedy Cabaret is the annual improv show that the high school theater department puts on. It's kinda like Who's Line is it Anyway?. Generally, it's pretty hilarious, though it does have its dull moments. Still, it was funnier than Saturday Night Live today. Sorry, I'm a critic.
Speaking of SNL, that was weak. Seriously. The hat sketch and Actor II Actor were moderately funny, but the rest of it was either bland, revolting, lewd, or a combination of all three. Don't let me down! (But I do love it when they sneak previous cast members onto the show...)
Anyway, here are a couple pictures of ComCab:
Friday, September 24, 2010
I'm going looney.
On Wednesday, the moon was the brightest it has been for over twenty years because Autumnal Equinox coincided with the full moon. And it was crazy bright--you couldn't even make out a distinct shape. If you didn't catch it, it's okay... there will be another one in 2029.
In Calculus, my table is making it our personal mission to sample the strangest foods in existence. Typically, our class vegan brings us various meat substitutes and I supply the craisins, hummus, and assorted vegetables.
On Thursday, we were talking about the super harvest moon, and Winston, the Chinese kid, brought up that his family eats moon cakes on the autumnal equinox. I replied that I didn't know what they were.
And so today, four of the five champs at our table (excluding the vegan, as there is a giant egg yolk in the middle) sampled a moon cake. Delicious. I recommend.
In Calculus, my table is making it our personal mission to sample the strangest foods in existence. Typically, our class vegan brings us various meat substitutes and I supply the craisins, hummus, and assorted vegetables.
On Thursday, we were talking about the super harvest moon, and Winston, the Chinese kid, brought up that his family eats moon cakes on the autumnal equinox. I replied that I didn't know what they were.
And so today, four of the five champs at our table (excluding the vegan, as there is a giant egg yolk in the middle) sampled a moon cake. Delicious. I recommend.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Little Orphan Antigone
After we finished Oedipus, we began reading Antigone, the third tragedy in the Oedipus trilogy. Because my class is so boring when they play emotional characters, I volunteered to read for Antigone. I love this play. Antigone is crazy passionate, and a total reb--she's basically the coolest person ever. My English teacher said that the part suits me well.
A large part of the play is intended to be sung, so I channeled my inner Sinead O'Connor. This was really funny, because another character sang his lines in a jazzy-bluegrass style. The contrast was absolutely perfect, although I couldn't focus on what was actually being said. I'll try to get it on video and post it later--hope fully we'll sing again.
I was oddly not nervous, and I have just about the worst nerves in existence. However, I do sit in the front row, so I didn't dwell on the fact that there were 38 other people in the room, some of whom I know sing far better than I do.
A large part of the play is intended to be sung, so I channeled my inner Sinead O'Connor. This was really funny, because another character sang his lines in a jazzy-bluegrass style. The contrast was absolutely perfect, although I couldn't focus on what was actually being said. I'll try to get it on video and post it later--hope fully we'll sing again.
I was oddly not nervous, and I have just about the worst nerves in existence. However, I do sit in the front row, so I didn't dwell on the fact that there were 38 other people in the room, some of whom I know sing far better than I do.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
So... Many... Projects...
I have a ridiculous amount of long-term projects. I have to build a trebuchet and write a "historical reference guide" about its history (I fully intend doing so in children's book format), research the economic structure of Papua New Guinea, and am officially in charge of the Choir's (Curious George-themed) homecoming float. In addition, I still have to finish applying to eight schools, Air Force ROTC, Army ROTC, blog, and get cracking on my duct tape prom dress.
Did I forget to mention that? I've decided to make my prom dress out of duct tape this year for a scholarship competition. This is my general idea:
I want it to be crazy-detailed, so I'll probably cover the entire dress in the feather pattern. Right now, I'm playing with textures, and I've managed to crochet duct tape. I'll probably put pictures of that up eventually.
Oh, and I'd like to give a shout-out to my super crazy awesome AP Economics teacher, Ms. Berryhill. I gave her the web address to the blog, and I really hope she's reading this. She told me to write her a letter about myself at the beginning of the year, so I drew this comic strip. Click on it to see a larger picture. Go ahead, click.
My AP Econ buddy, Allison, is supposed to start blogging today, and I'm excited. Allison Carlin, I'll bestalking following you. I promise.
Did I forget to mention that? I've decided to make my prom dress out of duct tape this year for a scholarship competition. This is my general idea:
Based on Blair Waldorf's prom dress from Gossip Girl, by Marchesa. Except this one isn't as awkwardly assymmetrical, will have feathering all around, is red, black, beige, and yellow, and is made of duct tape.I want it to be crazy-detailed, so I'll probably cover the entire dress in the feather pattern. Right now, I'm playing with textures, and I've managed to crochet duct tape. I'll probably put pictures of that up eventually.
Oh, and I'd like to give a shout-out to my super crazy awesome AP Economics teacher, Ms. Berryhill. I gave her the web address to the blog, and I really hope she's reading this. She told me to write her a letter about myself at the beginning of the year, so I drew this comic strip. Click on it to see a larger picture. Go ahead, click.
Page 1
Page 2My AP Econ buddy, Allison, is supposed to start blogging today, and I'm excited. Allison Carlin, I'll be
Monday, September 20, 2010
Death in the Great Hall from the Odyssey (Zombie-fied)
My brother and two other procrastinators were assigned to work together on a project for their freshman humanities class. I ended up filming and doing most of the editing. I'm kinda proud of myself.
It's probably really hard to follow unless you've read the Odyssey. I don't feel like explaining, so I'll leave it in its ambiguity. No, zombies are not part of the original work.
It's probably really hard to follow unless you've read the Odyssey. I don't feel like explaining, so I'll leave it in its ambiguity. No, zombies are not part of the original work.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
I've Got School Spirit, How 'Bout You?
I made this video. It's pretty good. I'm pretty much the best fan ever.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Oedipus Unrated
Oedipus is probably the most disturbing thing I have ever read. Or seen in operatic form.
Basically, it's about Oedipus, who was prophesied to kill his father and marry his mother. His parents ordered him to be killed when he was a baby, but he was taken in by another family as their own child. Eventually, the Gods tell him his destiny, and he runs away, thinking that his his adopted parents are his real parents. Then Oedipus has roid rage and kills a man who happens to be King Laius (his biological father) while on the run, and enters Thebes, where he becomes King after solving a riddle, thus marrying his mother, Jacosta, thus making him history's most famous mother-f****r. They have four kids together, then Oedipus seeks to avenge Laius' death, unaware that he killed him and that he was his son. Oedipus realizes that he killed his father and married his mother, so he gauges his eyes out and banishes himself from Thebes.
The plot is strange, yes. But the graphic gore and unnecessary details are even more strange. For example:
After we read it in class, we watched an operatic rendition. I'm in love with it. Of course, I love Stravinsky in general, but this is extraordinary. The set and costumes are made by the same man that did the Lion King, so they are out of this world. Almost as incredible as the makeup. Here's a little taste:
Anyway, my best good friend and I dressed up for the occasion. We so made the yearbook:
By the way, Jessye Norman is beyond amazing--look her up on YouTube. Lady has some pipes on her.
Basically, it's about Oedipus, who was prophesied to kill his father and marry his mother. His parents ordered him to be killed when he was a baby, but he was taken in by another family as their own child. Eventually, the Gods tell him his destiny, and he runs away, thinking that his his adopted parents are his real parents. Then Oedipus has roid rage and kills a man who happens to be King Laius (his biological father) while on the run, and enters Thebes, where he becomes King after solving a riddle, thus marrying his mother, Jacosta, thus making him history's most famous mother-f****r. They have four kids together, then Oedipus seeks to avenge Laius' death, unaware that he killed him and that he was his son. Oedipus realizes that he killed his father and married his mother, so he gauges his eyes out and banishes himself from Thebes.
The plot is strange, yes. But the graphic gore and unnecessary details are even more strange. For example:
From her clothes he ripped the golden broochesLovely visual images, eh?
she wore as ornaments, raised them high,
and drove them deep into his eyeballs...
With these words he raised his hand and struck,
not once, but many times, right into the sockets.
With every blow blood spurted from his eyes
down on his beard, and not in single drops,
but showers of dark blood spattered like hail.
(1513-1526)
Ah, my children, where are you? Come here,
come into my arms--you are my sisters now...
Your father killed his father, and then ploughed
his mother's womb--where he himself was born--
conceiving you where he, too was conceived.
(1750-1770)
After we read it in class, we watched an operatic rendition. I'm in love with it. Of course, I love Stravinsky in general, but this is extraordinary. The set and costumes are made by the same man that did the Lion King, so they are out of this world. Almost as incredible as the makeup. Here's a little taste:
By the way, Jessye Norman is beyond amazing--look her up on YouTube. Lady has some pipes on her.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
T-Shirt Designs
NHS - Big (front)
NHS - Big (back)
Math and Science Club (front)
Math and Science Club (back)
NHS - Humorous (front)
NHS - Humorous (back)
NHS - Basic (front)
NHS - Basic (back)
Mu Alpha Theta - Front
Mu Alpha Theta - Back
Choir Optional ShirtMonday, September 13, 2010
My Fatigue is Showing!
I checked my grades today, and I noticed that my grades decrease as the day progresses. Perhaps I get so worn out by the end of the day that I don't put through the effort? Or maybe my classes get progressively harder? Strange. (Are you confused as to how I have a higher grade in AP Calculus than Choir? So am I.)
In other news, season 4 of Gossip Girl premiered! However, this episode was purely mediocre. It seems like this is the exact same plot with Blair as the beginning of season 2, where she was dated a royal who was trying not to show that he was a royal, but she ended up falling for him because he spilled the beans. Writer's block? I don't know how I feel about this Juliet plot--they always give Nate these relationships that are completely irrelevant to anyone but Nate (i.e. Bree, Vanessa in the beginning). Don't get me wrong, I love me some Nate Archibald, but the show could easily progress without him. Or Vanessa, for the matter--what exactly was the point of her being in this episode? She served literally no purpose whatsoever, other than to show that Jessica Szohr is still in the cast. Since the character was introduced, she's just been... there. I think the Georgina drama is way overdone: she leaves, comes back saying that she's changed, and then people cause her to go crazy and she ruins everybody's lives. And then she comes back, and does it again. Basically, everything that did not involve Chuck Bass was poop.
All in all, I was not impressed with the bulk of it, but the ending was fairly strong. By the way, how is it possible that Ed Westwick and Hugh Laurie can make a cane look attractive?
Saturday, September 11, 2010
My Life is Senior
I took the ACT this morning. And I think I nailed it. I probably just jinxed it. The proctor was probably the funniest person I've ever seen, not because he intended to be funny, but because he was so cartoonish and over-the-top. He had a hunch back, and practically barked at a kid who turned his answer folder to the front. Sometimes, I think that scripted shows are pointless because real life is so darn entertaining!
I may start saying "MLIS", which means My Life is Senior. For instance:
I took the ACT, came home, and proceeded to take a five hour nap, in which I dreamed about procrastinating on writing college essays. MLIS.
I may start saying "MLIS", which means My Life is Senior. For instance:
I took the ACT, came home, and proceeded to take a five hour nap, in which I dreamed about procrastinating on writing college essays. MLIS.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Skype Study Groups
I just had an AP Calculus BC study group over skype. Besides the technical difficulties, I would recommend it. However, with three senior girls, you can only be so productive...
Monday, September 6, 2010
Becoming Jane
Every year, we have a back-to-school party for Choir. And every year, attendance is low, and it's usually a flop. This year didn't disappoint.
However, we went with a "Doppelganger" theme this year, in which people dress up like actors, singers, or other figures that they are told they look like. I dressed up as Jane from the Twilight series (sorry, once again, for bringing up Twilight in the blog). I think I was pretty spot on.
However, we went with a "Doppelganger" theme this year, in which people dress up like actors, singers, or other figures that they are told they look like. I dressed up as Jane from the Twilight series (sorry, once again, for bringing up Twilight in the blog). I think I was pretty spot on.
My friend Jaclyn looks exactly like Bella. We enjoy taking thematic pictures.
Lindsay Lohan--genius.
My friend Blythe was dressed as Giselle from Enchanted. I used my mind games on her as well.
Flo from the Progressive commercials--also genius.Fun at the Farm
Today is Labor Day, which means we have a three-day weekend! My family went up to our farm in Huntsville, TX and had a cutesy li'l reunion with my dad's college buddies and their spawn. One of the families, the Bealls, are missionaries in Papua New Guinea. They're kinda awesome. And really tan. And tall.
The aggie buds.
My father, myself, Bethany Beall, and Mr. Beall. Bethany and I are like the same person, except she's about eighty shades darker.
Mr. Beall's name is Ned. He's a character.
It's my brother's birthday on Wednesday, so we had a cake. The icing stained everything.
We attempted to do a jumping picture a bajillion times--we're sixteen, it's what we do.
Classic s'more making, of course.
Ehem... attractive.
Ahhh, child labor.
The aggie buds.My brother and I are obsessed with the show Man vs. Wild. We made this masterpiece in honor of all of the brilliant survival shows:
Friday, September 3, 2010
First "Home" Game
Texas high school football is big. It exceeds every single stereotype. Today was the first "home" game and second football game of the year. Granted, we weren't actually at our school's field due to renovations, but who's getting technical? This game was incredible. We were behind 20-7 to the 3-A school of West Orange Stark HS in the first quarter, but managed to pull a touchdown out of our butts in the last thirty seconds, and we left the winners at 35-34. I'm not a big football gal, but this game was insanity.
Coincidentally, the other team's mascot was also the Mustang, and they sported the same colors. Which made the cheers confusing and the signs ambiguous. It was really entertaining.
Here are some pictures:
We're good citizens.
Blythe (the redhead) is holding the Sportsmanship Award. (This was an allusion to Lion King, by the dubs).
The Wranglerettes--our highly-organized, award-winning drill team. No big deal or anything.
And these are a couple members of the "Blue Crew". Which are basically like yell leaders. Sort of. Thursday, September 2, 2010
Sun Block
I'd like to apologize to my billions of readers for not posting over the past week. Sorry, pal.
In English, we've been writing sample college essays and resumes. I originally wrote my essay about religion, but decided it was too harsh and scrapped it. And then I wrote an essay about being pale. Sort of. It's actually about instant gratification and planning, with tanning as an extended metaphor. Read it for yourself. (If you plagiarize this, I'll bite your head off and then write an even better essay.)
I am fair, pale, and pasty. As a result of my lack of melanin, blemishes and bruises stain my translucent skin. I cake on SPF 85 sun block religiously, while many other girls subject their body to intense amounts of UV radiation from tanning salons and Texas heat on a weekly basis. An even larger sector of the female demographic relies on fake tanning, giving them a yellow-orange tinge that leads me to believe they have jaundice or scurvy. The beauty of artificial tanning never ceases to astound me.
A substantial portion of my student body flocks to Boca Tanning Salon, which says a lot about my peers—upper class, concerned with appearances, and orange. I have never felt the need to enter a tanning bed or paint myself with darkening oils and lotions, partially because strawberry blondes are legally obligated to be pale, and also because the dangers of UV rays have been pounded into my head by my parents and campy videos from health class. Downsides and side affects to tanning salons and bronzers litter the pages of magazines and newspapers—practically every US citizen has witnessed both the gruesome images of melanoma and comically stereotyped Italians from the Jersey Shore. The dangers multiply as the fad progresses: from orange hands to awkward tan lines, from wrinkles to cancer. Tanning has accumulated a massive amount of negative propaganda--thus, the motive behind fake tanning must lie in instant gratification: getting what pays off now, rather than what pays off later. Sun bathers risk potential cancer, wrinkles, and sun spots for the current standards of beauty. However, this surprises no one. People make choices that are immediately convenient, and they have done so since the beginning of time—this truth transcends culture and geography.
Personally, I do not comprehend the alien concept of instant gratification. I plan. I list. I budget my time and finances, analyze all of the options, and make decisions after thoroughly evaluating cost. From my experience, goals can only be accomplished if they are set. However, my peers live in the moment, not merely in the realm of skin care habits, but also in reference to college, career decisions, and extra-curricular activities. Their spontaneity and lack of thought frustrate me to no end—the people around me are incredible. They were born to succeed and to become leaders; they are intelligent and thought-provoking, and I envy them. Yet they attend state school, return to their home town, marry, and make exact replicas of themselves who enter the cycle with their parents and grandparents. An immensely intelligent friend of mine dreams of attending a prestigious university and entering the Peace Corps, yet doesn’t bother to apply because he doesn’t believe he can find the resources to attend. Martin Luther King Jr. devoted a large part of his career to ensuring that educational opportunities were universally available, and yet, few people actually pursue their dreams. In Our Town by Thornton Wilder, Emily asks, “Do people ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?” I can’t comprehend why people don’t realize how incredible they truly are and utilize their potential, or why no one looks beyond state boundaries to a future of success and passion and fulfilled potential. Most people could do so much more, be so much more if they gave more thought as to who they want to be in the future. Instead, they lay in tanning beds and follow the path that is most immediately convenient.
I pray that applying sun block and planning and thinking ahead will come back in style by the time my generation takes the reins. Not everyone should share my own habits and beliefs, but the world needs realists and planners to be representatives for future generations as opposed to only their own. Planning, budgeting, and allocating resources could potentially save billions of dollars in removing metaphorical cancer spots from a society that is too focused on instant gratification, if people would step out of their tanning beds and take notice. The world needs more sun block.
That's the rough draft. If you don't believe I'm obnoxiously pale, here's a picture:
See? I'm surprised I don't sparkle.
In English, we've been writing sample college essays and resumes. I originally wrote my essay about religion, but decided it was too harsh and scrapped it. And then I wrote an essay about being pale. Sort of. It's actually about instant gratification and planning, with tanning as an extended metaphor. Read it for yourself. (If you plagiarize this, I'll bite your head off and then write an even better essay.)
I am fair, pale, and pasty. As a result of my lack of melanin, blemishes and bruises stain my translucent skin. I cake on SPF 85 sun block religiously, while many other girls subject their body to intense amounts of UV radiation from tanning salons and Texas heat on a weekly basis. An even larger sector of the female demographic relies on fake tanning, giving them a yellow-orange tinge that leads me to believe they have jaundice or scurvy. The beauty of artificial tanning never ceases to astound me.
A substantial portion of my student body flocks to Boca Tanning Salon, which says a lot about my peers—upper class, concerned with appearances, and orange. I have never felt the need to enter a tanning bed or paint myself with darkening oils and lotions, partially because strawberry blondes are legally obligated to be pale, and also because the dangers of UV rays have been pounded into my head by my parents and campy videos from health class. Downsides and side affects to tanning salons and bronzers litter the pages of magazines and newspapers—practically every US citizen has witnessed both the gruesome images of melanoma and comically stereotyped Italians from the Jersey Shore. The dangers multiply as the fad progresses: from orange hands to awkward tan lines, from wrinkles to cancer. Tanning has accumulated a massive amount of negative propaganda--thus, the motive behind fake tanning must lie in instant gratification: getting what pays off now, rather than what pays off later. Sun bathers risk potential cancer, wrinkles, and sun spots for the current standards of beauty. However, this surprises no one. People make choices that are immediately convenient, and they have done so since the beginning of time—this truth transcends culture and geography.
Personally, I do not comprehend the alien concept of instant gratification. I plan. I list. I budget my time and finances, analyze all of the options, and make decisions after thoroughly evaluating cost. From my experience, goals can only be accomplished if they are set. However, my peers live in the moment, not merely in the realm of skin care habits, but also in reference to college, career decisions, and extra-curricular activities. Their spontaneity and lack of thought frustrate me to no end—the people around me are incredible. They were born to succeed and to become leaders; they are intelligent and thought-provoking, and I envy them. Yet they attend state school, return to their home town, marry, and make exact replicas of themselves who enter the cycle with their parents and grandparents. An immensely intelligent friend of mine dreams of attending a prestigious university and entering the Peace Corps, yet doesn’t bother to apply because he doesn’t believe he can find the resources to attend. Martin Luther King Jr. devoted a large part of his career to ensuring that educational opportunities were universally available, and yet, few people actually pursue their dreams. In Our Town by Thornton Wilder, Emily asks, “Do people ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?” I can’t comprehend why people don’t realize how incredible they truly are and utilize their potential, or why no one looks beyond state boundaries to a future of success and passion and fulfilled potential. Most people could do so much more, be so much more if they gave more thought as to who they want to be in the future. Instead, they lay in tanning beds and follow the path that is most immediately convenient.
I pray that applying sun block and planning and thinking ahead will come back in style by the time my generation takes the reins. Not everyone should share my own habits and beliefs, but the world needs realists and planners to be representatives for future generations as opposed to only their own. Planning, budgeting, and allocating resources could potentially save billions of dollars in removing metaphorical cancer spots from a society that is too focused on instant gratification, if people would step out of their tanning beds and take notice. The world needs more sun block.
That's the rough draft. If you don't believe I'm obnoxiously pale, here's a picture:
See? I'm surprised I don't sparkle.P.S. Sorry for making both a Twilight and Jersey Shore reference in one post. My AP Economics teacher is obsessed with pop culture, and I think she's rubbing off on me.
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