(Sorry, I am breaking this up into a few unrelated sections, stay with me. I will do the writing in different colors and break up the stories with "~~~" so you can know when I am moving on...)
To start off, here is another quote, which was written in a persuasive essay from my mom to Taylor and was one of the foot notes(don't ask, it's a long story). It was the reference for a fact that she completely made up and said, "I
made this up, but if I post it on the Internet, it might make it
true." This may or may not be a true quote, but it was funny... and kind of true, people would believe that dancing will lower DUIs and higher ACT scores if you posted it online.
I just read a few of my posts, wow I have changed, and those memories came back. Funny how you can forget the order events take place, or forget that one week you hated the world and everyone in it. In one of the posts it spent half the time talking about bagels (even though I actually don't like bagels); in another it hints that something bad happened, but I never actually say what happened; in still another I got to see when I was still figuring out blogger and half my blog was highlighted white and the other half was gray.
Someone told me I should follow up on my "conforming to nonconformism" post this week, but I don't know quite how. I could elaborate on details, but that seems a tad redundant, so I think I might just move on. I have been worrying about what I could say more on Nonconformism, but most of it is just dark and useless, plus a little weird usually.
~~~
I wanted to post a little on how stupid the school dress code is, and how it is not enforced well. This week was the THIRD time I have gotten in trouble for clothing, and it was pretty stupid. First let me explain that I have worn shorts to school that have gotten some kind of comment like, "have you gotten in trouble for your shorts yet?" from several people. Shorts are okay I guess, but my shirts aren't. I have worn the same kinds of shirt for a while and not gotten in trouble. Shirts that have holes or a translucent cardigan over it, and never gotten in trouble. They are never provocative or suggest anything bad; and to be honest, they seem a lot better to me than the skirts I see some girls wear that show their underwear clearly. They are defiantly better in my mind than the very provocative shirts I see some girls wear. They can wear things that I don't even feel comfortable seeing them in, and I don't have issues with people wearing almost nothing. How is it that I can wear something that shows a little bit of my back and get in trouble, but someone can wear a shirt that shows their chest and is low cut and not get in trouble. This year is the first time I have gotten in trouble. The funny part is that is is always like a long sleeve shirt with a high neck line, but it somehow doesn't fit dress codes.
The dress codes allow for some people to slip under the radar and wear whatever they want, but get other people in trouble who aren't causing any problems. You can wear a tube too to school with a jacket over it and it is fine, but my sleeves need to be longer because you can see part of my shoulder under my jacket? There is a girl who I see that wears shirts where you can see her shoulders but she doesn't get punished for it.
I saw a nice looking girl in the office getting in trouble for a hole in her jeans, but she shouldn't be, the jeans looked fine. The dress code is not fair, if you are going to have a strict dress code that is one thing, but you can't let some people slip under the radar, especially if they wear something like that every day. It is stupid and makes no sense. It is like police pulling over someone who is going a mile over the speed limit because they haven't met their ticket quota for the day, but they let a speeding car going 20 miles over go by and don't notice a thing.
~~~
I haven't said much about my week recently, so I am going to try and say something about what has actually been going on. Last month I met my new BFF Emma, she is friends with a girl from swim named Jacky, and she is really nice, so now we are going to be BFFs we decided. She is going to be a Lancer next year too, so I am starting to get excited about High School. I really hope we have classes next year and are friends.
Last weekend my sisters had an ice skating show. Adrienne (who is 10) had a solo, which means that now she is one of the older girls. She was so excited and I think she had a lot of fun. She did a group number called Black and White and a solo called Yellow. She looked amazing, she can do some really cool spins and almost has her axel I think. Getting your axel is a huge deal, there are two main groups of people, the older girls who have it, and the girls who don't, Adrienne is about to make the leap and become one of the girls that has it. She looked so good in her solo and was really happy, which is great.
Eliza (who is 7) had her group dances, and she looked great too. Her dances were Little Red Riding Hood and Elephant Walk or something like that. After the show everyone got to swim, and there I met Jane. Jane is going to be a Lancer next year too, and I have met her before, but have talked to her very little. She was really friendly and nice to me even though she didn't really know me. Meeting new people is making me more excited to go to high school.
Taylor and I have hardly any classes together, but we still see each other after school. Her sister loves to hate me. Her sister walked up to my locker this week just to tell me that I was stupid. She also tells me on a regular basis that no one likes me, and Taylor is just my friend because she feels bad for me. She always pushes me, so taylor tries to walk between us, which just means more Taylor gets hurt when her sister tries to shove me. Her sister also full on body slammed me on friday... I am going to miss school and Taylor's little sister always finding some cleaver way to insult me.
I am going to miss my teachers a little next year. Nothing like walking into a class two minutes late and having the teacher look at you, notice you don't want to talk about it, then just go on and not say a word about you being late (this teacher makes it a big deal when you are late). Also, it seems like my teachers this year know me more than any other year. My teachers know my personality and it is going to be kind of sad to leave them all. I know they don't really care usually, but I think a few of them took notice of me. English will never be as fun as it was this year because there is no guarantee I will have Taylor in my class and a teacher that is okay with people having fun in class as long as they get their work done.
One more week, plus the last week that doesn't really count, and it is all over. I am on the fence between sad and excited. I actually like school right now, not all of it, but some of it! On the other hand I am ready to move on, done with some of the people there. I am sure all of the people in my grade feel somewhat similar to this at one degree or another.
Showing posts with label My Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Thoughts. Show all posts
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
Conforming to Nonconformity
Announcing that you're a nonconformist is the same as telling me that you a conformist. It's one thing to be unique and be yourself, but it is something else to try really hard to be something that you're not. The real nonconformists in the world never say that they are nonconformists, they just are different, and most people around them stay far away. The real nonconformists don't try to be nonconformists, they just are.
More and more people I know are trying too hard to be different. Everyone wants to be a free spirit, everyone wants to be original and think differently from those around them, but the truth is this- trying to be different is what everyone is doing, and has been doing for thousands of years, so get over it. You are not the first one to see civil injustice, so don't be so proud of yourself for noticing it, you aren't the chosen one or super genius for pointing it out. You are not the first person to see that things in the world aren't perfect, but going on and on is just annoying sometimes. If these same people were out volunteering after school, instead of just complaining, I would respect their opinion, but they aren't looking for the good around them, or contributing to it, they just whine. If they did as much as they talked, we would have a great world. Everyone would be Nelson Mandala.
In English class, we are reading a book called Stargirl. Stargirl is loveable, she is different, unique, and doesn't care what anyone thinks. She is loud and bubbly and wears crazy clothes. For a while, everyone around her loves her, but then they just get tired of her. Stargirl doesn't change when people get tired of her, because she is being herself, but if most people acted like that, they would stop as soon as people got tired of it because all they really want is attention. Trying to get a shock factor from everything you do is not being a nonconformist, Stargirl didn't try to get a shock factor, but sometimes she shocked people anyway.
One "nonconformist" told me recently that everything wrong with her life is because she lives in Utah. She said something like, "it is just Utah, the Mormons are the problem because EVERYONE but me is Mormon." Well, I just don't think that whatever is wrong with your life is all someone else's fault because of their religion. And, the truth is, Mormons have a right to be here too. They were driven out their houses in Illinois and Missouri by gunpoint and WALKED here so they could practice their religion without the threat of violence. My ancestors took a six week boat trip from England to America and then walked to Utah to farm a piece of desert land. Ever seen 17 Miracles? Watch that and tell me if Mormons have a right to live in Utah. Seriously, if the Mormon neighbors going to church and baking cookies are ruining your life, you need to get a life. YOU need to stop worrying about what other people are doing.
Things are not perfect anywhere, and yes, Utah is kind of like a bubble sometimes, but is that always a bad thing? From going to Space Camp (I know, I am such a nerd, but yeah..) I met a lot of people from all over the country. I made some really good friends, and met other people I didn't like at all. In general, Utah boys are more.. respectful. The boys at Space Camp often had little respect for girls or women, and they treated us horribly. There were a lot of nice boys too, but they looked at girls differently than the people from where I live do. They treated girls like objects; I couldn't walk down the hallway without a boy making a sexual comment. Sometimes I didn't even feel safe because of it.
When I got back home I was shocked by how nice everyone is and how the boys didn't say or do any of the things some of the camp boys did. This is a generalization and is not meant to reflect on all boys, but I wanted to make the point that a lot of times, a bubble is meant to protect you, which for the time being, I am MORE than fine with. Whether you live here, or somewhere else, your life is not ruled by the people around you- your life is yours. Go move to Texas if you like, but guess what? It won't be much different being surrounded by a baptist preacher instead of an LDS bishop. And if you hate people of every religion? Go move to a communist country (or the moon).
In our school there is only one person I see as a nonconfomist in it's true meaning. That person I will call Stephanie. Stephanie doesn't care what you do or say. She does what she wants and doesn't follow social rules. She is her own person. You don't all love her or give her any attention. She wears black and is teased for how she looks and acts. She thinks everyone is an idiot, and everyone seems to feel the same about her. She isn't trying to be popular in a different group of people than the normal "popular" group, she is trying to live how she wants.
This has gotten her in trouble a lot, telling people just what she thinks of them. It is a two way thing though, people make fun of her and laugh, and she calls them morons. This year by saying hi to her and being nice I have seen her smile. She wants friends, she just doesn't know how. Today on the way back from home room in the portables we were talking and a snake slithered across my foot. She screamed, but I think it made her loosen up a bit. She started talking about how funny it was and how scary, and it was enjoyable. She is as close to a nonconformist out of everyone I know. She is lonely, but she isn't going to change for you, so nonconformity is not quite as glamorous as you want it to be.
More and more people I know are trying too hard to be different. Everyone wants to be a free spirit, everyone wants to be original and think differently from those around them, but the truth is this- trying to be different is what everyone is doing, and has been doing for thousands of years, so get over it. You are not the first one to see civil injustice, so don't be so proud of yourself for noticing it, you aren't the chosen one or super genius for pointing it out. You are not the first person to see that things in the world aren't perfect, but going on and on is just annoying sometimes. If these same people were out volunteering after school, instead of just complaining, I would respect their opinion, but they aren't looking for the good around them, or contributing to it, they just whine. If they did as much as they talked, we would have a great world. Everyone would be Nelson Mandala.
In English class, we are reading a book called Stargirl. Stargirl is loveable, she is different, unique, and doesn't care what anyone thinks. She is loud and bubbly and wears crazy clothes. For a while, everyone around her loves her, but then they just get tired of her. Stargirl doesn't change when people get tired of her, because she is being herself, but if most people acted like that, they would stop as soon as people got tired of it because all they really want is attention. Trying to get a shock factor from everything you do is not being a nonconformist, Stargirl didn't try to get a shock factor, but sometimes she shocked people anyway.
One "nonconformist" told me recently that everything wrong with her life is because she lives in Utah. She said something like, "it is just Utah, the Mormons are the problem because EVERYONE but me is Mormon." Well, I just don't think that whatever is wrong with your life is all someone else's fault because of their religion. And, the truth is, Mormons have a right to be here too. They were driven out their houses in Illinois and Missouri by gunpoint and WALKED here so they could practice their religion without the threat of violence. My ancestors took a six week boat trip from England to America and then walked to Utah to farm a piece of desert land. Ever seen 17 Miracles? Watch that and tell me if Mormons have a right to live in Utah. Seriously, if the Mormon neighbors going to church and baking cookies are ruining your life, you need to get a life. YOU need to stop worrying about what other people are doing.
Things are not perfect anywhere, and yes, Utah is kind of like a bubble sometimes, but is that always a bad thing? From going to Space Camp (I know, I am such a nerd, but yeah..) I met a lot of people from all over the country. I made some really good friends, and met other people I didn't like at all. In general, Utah boys are more.. respectful. The boys at Space Camp often had little respect for girls or women, and they treated us horribly. There were a lot of nice boys too, but they looked at girls differently than the people from where I live do. They treated girls like objects; I couldn't walk down the hallway without a boy making a sexual comment. Sometimes I didn't even feel safe because of it.
When I got back home I was shocked by how nice everyone is and how the boys didn't say or do any of the things some of the camp boys did. This is a generalization and is not meant to reflect on all boys, but I wanted to make the point that a lot of times, a bubble is meant to protect you, which for the time being, I am MORE than fine with. Whether you live here, or somewhere else, your life is not ruled by the people around you- your life is yours. Go move to Texas if you like, but guess what? It won't be much different being surrounded by a baptist preacher instead of an LDS bishop. And if you hate people of every religion? Go move to a communist country (or the moon).
In our school there is only one person I see as a nonconfomist in it's true meaning. That person I will call Stephanie. Stephanie doesn't care what you do or say. She does what she wants and doesn't follow social rules. She is her own person. You don't all love her or give her any attention. She wears black and is teased for how she looks and acts. She thinks everyone is an idiot, and everyone seems to feel the same about her. She isn't trying to be popular in a different group of people than the normal "popular" group, she is trying to live how she wants.
This has gotten her in trouble a lot, telling people just what she thinks of them. It is a two way thing though, people make fun of her and laugh, and she calls them morons. This year by saying hi to her and being nice I have seen her smile. She wants friends, she just doesn't know how. Today on the way back from home room in the portables we were talking and a snake slithered across my foot. She screamed, but I think it made her loosen up a bit. She started talking about how funny it was and how scary, and it was enjoyable. She is as close to a nonconformist out of everyone I know. She is lonely, but she isn't going to change for you, so nonconformity is not quite as glamorous as you want it to be.
Being yourself is great, be unique and special and great in your own way, but make it true. Trying too hard to be strange and different is not different at all. I appreciate genuine people; if you fit in, great! And if you don't fit it, great! I'm just glad that you are yourself. I am not the only one who thinks this, I am not the first, nor am I the last, I know. This is not a new thought, but it is something that I want to say to people every time they try to be different or say "I am so weird!" or anything like that. By trying to be a nonconformist, you are being a conformist, to impress some group of people, which makes your whole effort a waste. Thanks for reading, hope I didn't offend you. But if I did, well... too bad...
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Adopted
I don't know what to post tonight, so I will tell you about how I go to extremes. You know Billy Joel? He has a song called "I go to Extremes" that I think describes me pretty well. I tend to defiantly go to extremes in almost everything. I do it sometimes just to prove to people that I am not who they think I am. When people assume something about me I try to prove them wrong. It bugs me like none other when people make assumptions, even if it is right, why do you think that you know? I have noticed that a lot with being adopted. Today in church my mom talked about my adoption for something, and everyone kept looking at me and after this girl came up and hugged me and said that you would never know. This didn't bug me, like at all, but it reminded me of what I have heard people assume. It almost always starts out with, "I don't want to offend you, but..." or, "So.. wait, never mind, I don't want to make you upset," or something along those lines. If you have said one of these then please don't be offended. Here are some of the things I have heard:
"Don't take this personally, but are your parents' murders?"
"You're adopted? You don't seem quiet or antisocial at all!"
"Umm... don't be offended, but what was the orphanage like?" (I am not an orphan FYI)
"But you don't seem adopted at all, you can't even tell!"
"Okay, but don't be offended... I was going to say that you must be adopted because your mom didn't love you."
I like these quotes because they are real and they show how little people know. I also have noticed from this and other things that have been said that being adopted is like a bad thing. I want to tell people, "Well, that just shows that my parents who I am living with are good have shown that they are good and can take care of me, your parents did not, they could be crappy and you are stuck with them, no guarantee that they are good like mine." Okay, I have only wanted to say that to the your-mom-must-not-love-you one, but still. Why is it a bad thing that I am adopted? Why is that to be pitied and looked down upon? It is not always, but really, why?! Maybe my parents don't have to both be dead or have murdered someone for me to be adopted! Also everyone assumes that it just kills me to even say it, but it really doesn't. With a few exceptions, I don't really feel much overwhelming emotion over that. People also ask me often, when they hear I am adopted, if I remember my parents, if I see my parents, and of course what they did. "Yes, I was 11 when I was adopted, Stupid" I want to tell them, because why do you assume I was a baby or something? I also like to answer the "do you ever see them?" question with saying that I see my dad sometimes, but my mom is dead, because it has a shock effect for some reason.
It is really annoying that being adopted is "bad." Like I said, it guarantees that my parents are able to take care of me, they have had to prove it. In seminary my teacher asked who in the class was adopted, and I was the only one who was brave enough to raise my hand. One kid (who was adopted) shouted that he wasn't and there was no chance that he was and stuff like that, and I think that there was at least one other person in the class besides us, but why is it something to be ashamed of I had to wonder. After I was the only one to raise my hand the seminary teacher said, "Ok, only Skittles," or something like that, and yeah, I felt embarrassed, because it was like saying that I was different and everyone stared it seemed like. I know that you all say that adoption is good or whatever, but maybe think before you say the first thing that comes to your head, because if you say, "your mother must not have loved you," even joking, you may have just said it to someone who was actually having a hard time because it was their dead mom's birthday and there may just be some back story you fail to see. I don't see why you judge or assume I need your pity, because odds are I really don't.
"Don't take this personally, but are your parents' murders?"
"You're adopted? You don't seem quiet or antisocial at all!"
"Umm... don't be offended, but what was the orphanage like?" (I am not an orphan FYI)
"But you don't seem adopted at all, you can't even tell!"
"Okay, but don't be offended... I was going to say that you must be adopted because your mom didn't love you."
I like these quotes because they are real and they show how little people know. I also have noticed from this and other things that have been said that being adopted is like a bad thing. I want to tell people, "Well, that just shows that my parents who I am living with are good have shown that they are good and can take care of me, your parents did not, they could be crappy and you are stuck with them, no guarantee that they are good like mine." Okay, I have only wanted to say that to the your-mom-must-not-love-you one, but still. Why is it a bad thing that I am adopted? Why is that to be pitied and looked down upon? It is not always, but really, why?! Maybe my parents don't have to both be dead or have murdered someone for me to be adopted! Also everyone assumes that it just kills me to even say it, but it really doesn't. With a few exceptions, I don't really feel much overwhelming emotion over that. People also ask me often, when they hear I am adopted, if I remember my parents, if I see my parents, and of course what they did. "Yes, I was 11 when I was adopted, Stupid" I want to tell them, because why do you assume I was a baby or something? I also like to answer the "do you ever see them?" question with saying that I see my dad sometimes, but my mom is dead, because it has a shock effect for some reason.
It is really annoying that being adopted is "bad." Like I said, it guarantees that my parents are able to take care of me, they have had to prove it. In seminary my teacher asked who in the class was adopted, and I was the only one who was brave enough to raise my hand. One kid (who was adopted) shouted that he wasn't and there was no chance that he was and stuff like that, and I think that there was at least one other person in the class besides us, but why is it something to be ashamed of I had to wonder. After I was the only one to raise my hand the seminary teacher said, "Ok, only Skittles," or something like that, and yeah, I felt embarrassed, because it was like saying that I was different and everyone stared it seemed like. I know that you all say that adoption is good or whatever, but maybe think before you say the first thing that comes to your head, because if you say, "your mother must not have loved you," even joking, you may have just said it to someone who was actually having a hard time because it was their dead mom's birthday and there may just be some back story you fail to see. I don't see why you judge or assume I need your pity, because odds are I really don't.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Why Blogs Are Not Made Write Essays, and Heart Dissection.
I know, I didn't post before, so I am doing double this week. I even started a post, but didn't publish it! So, Mr. Thompson keeps saying that we need to post about our thoughts, not our lives, but I keep ignoring him. I don't like the whole "find something random to write about, ready, go!"idea. That might surprise you because I jump around and always like to talk or write about things that seem random to you, but they make sense to me. I don't like being told to make something up, so I stick to talking about my week. I think I will finally give in a little bit and not write just about my week, although admittedly that is mostly because I just don't want to tell you about it. Mr. Thompson said that it is more interesting to hear about our thoughts and that there is only so much of hearing our own personal diaries he can handle, but to be honest, I feel the opposite. I would rather hear about what people are doing and what's going on then hear an essay. I get that your thoughts are not always essays, but sometimes they are (sorry if you're offended, this doesn't pertain to everyone, but you know who you are). People don't seem to want to let people see everything about them, so sometimes they write things that tell absolutely nothing about them just for the sake of filling up the 500 words requirement (and yes, I know that I am very guilty of that myself). I would rather hear about what happened this week that was so unique and strange, than what your thoughts on global warming are. If nothing cool is happening then yeah it makes sense to talk about whatever, but by writing a persuasive essay every week you start to write the same thing, and honestly it does get boring sometimes. I am not saying everyone does this, but it is just a pattern I have noticed. I think that writing about what weird happened this week keeps it more fresh than writing about something that you are less than passionate about, but you can use 500 words to say it. I may be wrong, if you hate my blog than I get it, maybe you are the opposite of me and really do not care about hearing the random detail of peoples' lives and would rather hear their deep personal thoughts. I get that, it makes sense, I like the concept, but I feel like I get a better understanding of people and how they think by what they do rather than reading a story that has nothing to do with them.
I like the best when I can read about something that happened this week and I can recognize who is writing it and who they are writing about, it keeps it interesting and holds my attention. I want to hear about what you did this weekend and about what crazy thing your friend did (as long as you actually did do something this weekend that is interesting and your friend did do something insane, not just faking something to make yourself sound cooler or what ever). I have realized that with reading things like this blog here, there is nothing actually happening keeping it going and leaving you on edge, so I don't want to read it. I find myself starting to read blogs that sound like this, with no stories or people, but then start skimming and soon just leaving to read another post. I don't want to read about a book review, I can go to goodreads for that, I am on your blog because I want to read about your life and thoughts, not about a book you were assigned to read. Don't get me wrong, I like hearing a little bit about what you think about the books you are reading, but that's not the same as just reading a review you wrote. A review tells me about the themes in the book and about what happens, but the main part is about the book, not you. Telling what you think about a book is the exact opposite, it tells mostly about you and your thoughts on the book, but it does mention what the book is about. I am great with hearing about this great book, but again, I can read reviews any where, I am here for your thoughts and life, not the book.
I really don't mean to offend anyone, I am not writing this to any specific person, I am just writing it because Mr. Thompson has told us why he wants us to write about one thing, so I thought I should say what I think is interesting to hear. I love hearing your thoughts, I think it is great to not have a story or tell about your day every single time, but if you don't have anything you are dying passionate to tell everyone, it seems like a more interesting choice than copying one of your geography articles to count as your 500 words. This is a blog to help you discover what you like to write about and to express your thoughts, not just an assignment that is due every week. It is not bad to post about an essay you write (if you liked it and have strong feelings about it) sometimes, I am just saying that I prefer hearing about your life and friends over your essay on the black death.
Now, if you are not bored to death or offended, you get to hear about my science project. (I know you were just thinking, "Oh joy!" but I promise it is not one of those essays I was just ranting about, I am not that much of a hypocrite and I actually did enjoy it enough to want to write about it.)
For science term projects we had multiple choices, I decided on what seemed like it would take the least about of effort or time, so I decided to go to the Expanding Your Horizons workshop thing. My mom did not agree because it was too far, so I decided to do the medical workshop over reading a book. Something about me you should know is I HATE IVs, I don't even like shots anymore because I hate IVs so much. When I was little I used to look forward to getting shots, but now it actually makes me gag. Even seeing someone's veins makes me a little sick. There is a whole back story about why I hate IVs and all of my fun experiences with them, but I will save that for another week. Hearing we would get to give a pig stitches and dissect a heart was almost to much for me. I could only thing of IVs and seeing the vains in the heart and pig foot, so I almost just said no and was going to accept an F in science. I ended up going and as soon as I got in I saw Pink Lady. I was a little bit more relaxed because I knew I would have a friend, but I was still a little bit sick to my stomach thinking about veins bursting and how much it would hurt to have your veins cut (as you can see I would not be a good emo).
I sat down in one of the chairs and saw the pig foot in front of me. I tried to watch the guy demonstrating how to do stitches, but I didn't understand. I asked for help and he agreed, although somewhat reluctantly and annoyed. He told me how I was supposed to hold the needle, but it was different since I am left handed. "Are you SURE your a lefty?" he asked me a few times. After he was convinced that I was a lefty he tried to tell me how I was holding the needle wrong. After trying to explain it for about 30 seconds he took the needle and just did it for me, but since I was a lefty he did it wrong. When we finally got it all sorted out he left immediatly. The only problem was I didn't actually understand anything he had said, so I was at a loss. I tried watching other people and heard him get annoyed with the girl next to me for not knowing how, so I eventually got it. It started to be almost fun after the first few stitches. By the end I was in the zone and was making sure that there was a stitch in every possible space. I was sad to leave the pig feet, but we still had the heart dissection to go to.
I got to sit by Pink Lady for the heart dissection and it was interesting. I tried to not throw up with the veins I saw, and after a minute I adjusted. I was kind of interested in how the heart worked and it looked really cool. We had a medical student come and show us how it worked and cut it apart. The medical student let everyone touch it, but only the two people directly by it ended up touching it. I wanted to touch it and see how it worked, but I didn't want to interrupt her or make her stop talking so I just watched. After she (the medical student) left the heart for a minute to answer questions I gave in and decided that it would not be disruptive to touch it. I was amazed at how cool it was. After a minute I asked the girl next to me (who happened to be right in front of the heart) if I could use the scapel for a second. I started cutting something to get a better look and one of the four girls who had come from my school for the workshop came over to touch it too. When the girl from my school came over Pink Lady and the other girl came over too. It was a lot of fun to look at it and figure out about it from actually seeing the real thing instead of a diagram, but sadly I looked over and the medical student looked annoyed because as soon as she had gone everyone came over, oh well, that is kind of to be expected.
Pink Lady and the other two girls sat down after a minute, but I was just getting started. I personally had a blast looking at the heart and it seemed really cool. Maybe I am not as IV/veinphobic as I thought I was. Yesterday was pretty awesome, the workshop was way more fun than I thought it would be. To end this blog post here are some pictures of the heart and pig's feet. Sadly this is not my pig's foot, but mine looked mostly like it, just a little more Frankenstein. I would show you the pictures of me and more pictures of the heart, but I still don't know how to get pictures from my phone to the computer, so these are the pictures form one of the other girls at my school.
I like the best when I can read about something that happened this week and I can recognize who is writing it and who they are writing about, it keeps it interesting and holds my attention. I want to hear about what you did this weekend and about what crazy thing your friend did (as long as you actually did do something this weekend that is interesting and your friend did do something insane, not just faking something to make yourself sound cooler or what ever). I have realized that with reading things like this blog here, there is nothing actually happening keeping it going and leaving you on edge, so I don't want to read it. I find myself starting to read blogs that sound like this, with no stories or people, but then start skimming and soon just leaving to read another post. I don't want to read about a book review, I can go to goodreads for that, I am on your blog because I want to read about your life and thoughts, not about a book you were assigned to read. Don't get me wrong, I like hearing a little bit about what you think about the books you are reading, but that's not the same as just reading a review you wrote. A review tells me about the themes in the book and about what happens, but the main part is about the book, not you. Telling what you think about a book is the exact opposite, it tells mostly about you and your thoughts on the book, but it does mention what the book is about. I am great with hearing about this great book, but again, I can read reviews any where, I am here for your thoughts and life, not the book.
I really don't mean to offend anyone, I am not writing this to any specific person, I am just writing it because Mr. Thompson has told us why he wants us to write about one thing, so I thought I should say what I think is interesting to hear. I love hearing your thoughts, I think it is great to not have a story or tell about your day every single time, but if you don't have anything you are dying passionate to tell everyone, it seems like a more interesting choice than copying one of your geography articles to count as your 500 words. This is a blog to help you discover what you like to write about and to express your thoughts, not just an assignment that is due every week. It is not bad to post about an essay you write (if you liked it and have strong feelings about it) sometimes, I am just saying that I prefer hearing about your life and friends over your essay on the black death.
Now, if you are not bored to death or offended, you get to hear about my science project. (I know you were just thinking, "Oh joy!" but I promise it is not one of those essays I was just ranting about, I am not that much of a hypocrite and I actually did enjoy it enough to want to write about it.)
For science term projects we had multiple choices, I decided on what seemed like it would take the least about of effort or time, so I decided to go to the Expanding Your Horizons workshop thing. My mom did not agree because it was too far, so I decided to do the medical workshop over reading a book. Something about me you should know is I HATE IVs, I don't even like shots anymore because I hate IVs so much. When I was little I used to look forward to getting shots, but now it actually makes me gag. Even seeing someone's veins makes me a little sick. There is a whole back story about why I hate IVs and all of my fun experiences with them, but I will save that for another week. Hearing we would get to give a pig stitches and dissect a heart was almost to much for me. I could only thing of IVs and seeing the vains in the heart and pig foot, so I almost just said no and was going to accept an F in science. I ended up going and as soon as I got in I saw Pink Lady. I was a little bit more relaxed because I knew I would have a friend, but I was still a little bit sick to my stomach thinking about veins bursting and how much it would hurt to have your veins cut (as you can see I would not be a good emo).
I sat down in one of the chairs and saw the pig foot in front of me. I tried to watch the guy demonstrating how to do stitches, but I didn't understand. I asked for help and he agreed, although somewhat reluctantly and annoyed. He told me how I was supposed to hold the needle, but it was different since I am left handed. "Are you SURE your a lefty?" he asked me a few times. After he was convinced that I was a lefty he tried to tell me how I was holding the needle wrong. After trying to explain it for about 30 seconds he took the needle and just did it for me, but since I was a lefty he did it wrong. When we finally got it all sorted out he left immediatly. The only problem was I didn't actually understand anything he had said, so I was at a loss. I tried watching other people and heard him get annoyed with the girl next to me for not knowing how, so I eventually got it. It started to be almost fun after the first few stitches. By the end I was in the zone and was making sure that there was a stitch in every possible space. I was sad to leave the pig feet, but we still had the heart dissection to go to.
I got to sit by Pink Lady for the heart dissection and it was interesting. I tried to not throw up with the veins I saw, and after a minute I adjusted. I was kind of interested in how the heart worked and it looked really cool. We had a medical student come and show us how it worked and cut it apart. The medical student let everyone touch it, but only the two people directly by it ended up touching it. I wanted to touch it and see how it worked, but I didn't want to interrupt her or make her stop talking so I just watched. After she (the medical student) left the heart for a minute to answer questions I gave in and decided that it would not be disruptive to touch it. I was amazed at how cool it was. After a minute I asked the girl next to me (who happened to be right in front of the heart) if I could use the scapel for a second. I started cutting something to get a better look and one of the four girls who had come from my school for the workshop came over to touch it too. When the girl from my school came over Pink Lady and the other girl came over too. It was a lot of fun to look at it and figure out about it from actually seeing the real thing instead of a diagram, but sadly I looked over and the medical student looked annoyed because as soon as she had gone everyone came over, oh well, that is kind of to be expected.
Pink Lady and the other two girls sat down after a minute, but I was just getting started. I personally had a blast looking at the heart and it seemed really cool. Maybe I am not as IV/veinphobic as I thought I was. Yesterday was pretty awesome, the workshop was way more fun than I thought it would be. To end this blog post here are some pictures of the heart and pig's feet. Sadly this is not my pig's foot, but mine looked mostly like it, just a little more Frankenstein. I would show you the pictures of me and more pictures of the heart, but I still don't know how to get pictures from my phone to the computer, so these are the pictures form one of the other girls at my school.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)