My favorite season is easily winter. I was born in January, so I am completely inclined to love cold weather. I love it so much more in comparison to the heat because you can get warm in the cold pretty easily (coats, blankets, heating, etc.); but in the summer, you can only get nice and chilly/more comfortable by having an air conditioner—which is not always around you (especially while you’re out hanging with friends!).
Everything is beautiful in winter. Not to say it isn’t during spring, summer, or fall, but it all just seems calmer, peaceful, and relaxed. Less people go out because they want to stay warm inside, so the streets (if you know where to go) are often empty or uncrowded. And the snow that falls just blankets everything in a way that makes me want to be in bed with some hot chocolate or tea and a good book, and just stay and chill as long as I’d like.
El gato está parando en una montaña durante la noche. Hay una luna a la media en el cielo, brillando en la escena del gato cansado y estancado con un árbol y las flores. Pero un pato pequeño está en la espalda del gato. Aunque ellos son amigos, el gato se siente como si el pato esté usando él por un paseo libre. El gato ya está aburrido y cansado de caminar; ¡él no necesita un pato en la espalda también! El pato explica al gato que él no quiere causar su amigo dolor o agotamiento, y que él solamente quiere estar cerca del gato. El gato comprende, y los dos se quedan en la montaña en paz y armonía.
I’m pretty good friends with a lot of people, but consider only three that I can think of as best/closest. (Alphabetical order so no one feels like one goes before another!)
Adrian- I don’t remember when I met him, which shows just how long we have been friends and how much we have been through together. We were little pricks to everyone but our friend group maybe four or five years ago. He used to live across the street from me, then around the block, now in Bayside. When he lived in my neighborhood, we would walk his dog daily together and would always be hard to separate. Now that he has moved away for a few years and is in college and has a job and completely different life than I do, it is really difficult (especially with school right now and college applications) to keep contact and still be close; but the last time we hung out (maybe mid-to-late summer), we figured out that no matter what is going on in either of our lives, we’ll always have each other’s back.
Felix- I met Felix in AP World History sophomore year. I think the first interaction we had was my trying to trip him as he walked passed me and him pushing or headbutting me back; bromance ever since then. We have incredible, almost nightly discussions about everything from Woe, Is Me covering Ke$ha to sex (not every night but sometimes those do occur!). We were in the same religion, AP US History, and lunch sections last year, just solidifying our bond of badassery. By the way, we rocked the hell out of everyone in religion class; we’re like philosophical geniuses who can also play music. He is also one of the only guys that Tara would be happy with me going gay for, so you know that our friendship is special.
Tara- I met Tara at Mollie’s sweet sixteen two Augusts ago. After that we didn’t really talk at all for about five months outside of random comments/likes on Facebook. Then one day she came to Xavier with Mollie and Daisy and crew to hang out with our friends from my school. We hung out a couple of times after that, started talking more just normally and were pretty good friends before we started dating. But as I’ve gotten to know her so much more throughout our relationship, even if we weren’t dating right now, she would easily be one of my best friends because she’s so down-to-earth and real and not two-faced like too many people that I know. There is no doubt in my mind that even if we were to break up, we would definitely remain close friends and still care about each other.
My favorite program used to be Scrubs, and I mean the classic J.D., Turk, Elliot, Carla, and Dr. Cox ones—not the new Med School season even though I gave it a chance.
Now that that’s off the air, my favorite show would have to be a tie between Doctor Who and Boardwalk Empire. One is the best (I don’t care if people give me crap for this view) sci-fi television show in a very long time, and the other is the best gangster-noire serial in general.
My first story for my writing workshop in class is due next Friday, and I am almost done with my story. But today my class had a workshop for my friend’s story—which was epic at the very least—and his work raised the bar for everything we will read afterward. Now I don’t feel as confident in my story as I was before, but I’m hoping to push through this doubt so I can finish my story off well.
Therefore I’m mad hyped to get this story done and finish it off strong!
And I would post it on here, but it’s supposed to be eight pages long; I don’t think anyone would want to read that much on a computer screen all in one sitting. D:
I grew up on a lot of pop-punk bands that suck muchos cojones nowadays, Good Charlotte having been one. Their last album (Good Morning Revival if anyone actually cares what that horrible album’s title is) was complete dance/pop trash. (By the way, not a shot at dance or pop genres, but a punky band shouldn’t be doing dance/pop.) Now Good Charlotte are streaming their new album Cardiology on their MySpace, and I decided to give it a listen. It’s quite epic in comparison to their previous “effort” and is more of a return to their roots, which makes me feel nostalgic while listening to them.
My middle name is Milton. I’m named after my grandfather who I’ve never met. I don’t know if I should be proud of it or not but without any evidence of my gramps being a bamf, it’s pretty disheartening. D:
By the way, some of my close friends call me Milty.
I’m no Glee fanboy or anything, but I can’t be more excited for the Rocky Horror episode. I basically grew up with this movie and its soundtrack in my household (what does that say about me? …). Now that one of the few shows I actually watch nowadays is covering some of my all-time favorite songs….GAH; I just couldn’t be more hyped. :D
I’m trying to read The Power and The Glory by Graham Greene and work on a song for the first time in months. This book is taking way too long to get into the plot; then again I just might be used to short stories from writing and reading them so often nowadays. But I also feel too uncomfortable playing guitar. That’s not good, friendly followers. I’ve been playing guitar since the beginning of eighth grade and it became a prominent part of my life sophomore year summer. It is torturous that I cannot play it daily like I used to; it was the means to keep some sanity during school time last year. Now I have no hobby because I am always doing work for school or college.
This brings y’all up to speed now. I don’t feel as comfortable playing the guitar anymore because I am too out of practice. Some of you might be thinking that’s it’s similar to riding a bike, but it isn’t completely. I mean I know all of the old chords and songs I used to, but my callouses are WEAK. That is just ridiculous because my fingers never hurt after hours of playing; now they hurt after maybe forty-five minutes. It’s time for a change.
Picking up the guitar in between attempts to understand Greene’s story, I started messing around with some chord progressions. (I suck at lead guitar so I have to stick to chords for the time being). Oddly enough though, I don’t like using a pick anymore. I feel entirely more at home with my fingers and thumb to pick and strum; therefore, I feel pretty badass for not keeping up with my playing, but also have opened a brand new door of music that I can play. Hopefully my music will sound something like City & Colour (Dallas Green <3), but with maybe with some synthy Motion City Soundtrack/Cars hooks? It sounds really weird in theory, but if I get the right mixture and get Felix to produce it right, something awesome might come out of it. And who knows, this new song might inspire me to understand this novel! (lol jk I’m so full of shit.) I’ll keep you all posted. :)
Some of my friends just got back from the senior retreat at my school and they said they loved it. But they also said that the predominant part of the retreat is prayer and deepening one’s relationship with God. That is a huge turnoff to me because I have no desire to do so; but oddly enough, conversations I had with them put into perspective what my actual beliefs are.
I believe God made the world because it is just too well thought out to have been the creation of the Big Bang.
But he’s not with us still. He just watches over everything omnisciently taking no part in it, which explains why bad things happen to good people and vice versa.
When we die, we die. There’s nothing there after waiting for us because life just goes on without us. It’s a cliché because it is true. Maybe we are reincarnated, but I am not completely sure on that and did not really think about it too much today.
I hope I do not come off as sounding to Atheistic or cynical, but I think my beliefs are well found. I am surely not gonna force others to believe in them and will totally respect everyone’s respective religions, but I just thought this warranted a post because I have been slacking a bit lately.
Today was the first day in maybe a month where Tara and I just chilled doing nothing like we used to in the summer. We got breakfast, watched Teen Mom and Peep Show (yet another BBC program I love), went to Union and multiple Halloween stores/Urban, and just chilled doing absolutely nothing; and it was wonderful. I miss those days from the summer so much when we would do that every day. Today was so perfectly timed and needed, and I could not be more grateful for it; also, on that note, I could not be more thankful to have Tara in my life in general. <3
I’ve been playing guitar for the first time in weeks tonight for about an hour. I should really be working on my story for school or my paper for Lit class; but those can come right after I finish up this last song. If anyone know it, I’m playing “How’s It Going To Be” by Third Eye Blind.
I think my liver and lungs will survive this year. From what I gather, a lot of other people are trying to blow out their organs before even applying to college, and that just seems a little silly to me. Yeah, it can be fun having a beer or two now and then or getting drunk with friends; but I can’t do that crap every weekend. It becomes so boring, routine, and repetitive that it would make even the biggest alcoholic put down the bottle or the stupidest pothead breathe oxygen. And for the record, I’m not preaching; that ain’t my style.
I have a Twitter and am confused. These new-fangled contraptions just don’t make sense to an old-time such as myself! I miss the good old days of posting statuses on MySpace and directing them at whoever in particular so they’d get the hint; but now, I just don’t know what to do! Simon Pegg…please retweet me someday!
I love writing. I have two assignments for my class in school and I’m currently working on one. But I don’t feel so confident in my work. In fact, I feel rather anxious and scared that it won’t be good and meet the expectations that are set for me. It’s hard to continue with such thoughts.
THANK YOU TO ALL of my friends and family, made both inside and outside of Xavier. I will never forget all of memories of the last four years my brothers and I created together. “A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.” (Walt Whitman) “Humor is mankind’s greatest blessing.” (Mark Twain) “Music is my religion.” (Jimi Hendrix)
First off, I am not as smart as the grades and numbers make me appear. Some grades I have worked hard for while others I received just by relying on a lazy intelligence. I was always one who could be given a a problem to solve and end up solving it—with the right answer—the wrong way. I was never the “school smart” every parent aspires their child to be. I was clever and remain that way up until now.
Through first to eighth grade, I never cracked a book open to study. I read fiction often, paid an enormous amount of attention everywhere, asked an infinite amount of questions, and frustrated many a teacher and adult in my day, but I learned much without using a single workbook without be forced to.
The difference between being clever and smart is that cleverness requires little effort and one ends up with mediocre results. Yet for the effort put in, one cannot complain. Intelligence, on the other hand, requires diligent work and study time, yet results may vary. My naïve self thought that I could pull of alright grades by putting in little work—and I did. I did so well that it was not considered mediocre: I had reached the above-average denomination. This did not last forever though.
Freshman and sophomore years of high school were where the problem began in that my cleverness was not on par with the difficulty level of work I had; yet I continued to coast by, not doing as well as I used to. Then junior year arrives and I get the wake-up call every student hates getting from his or her alarm or parent every morning. But my wake-up call was the beginning of college guidance counseling. I became afraid that I would not be smart or clever enough to handle college and succeed in life.
By the end of junior year, I vowed to myself that I would change the way I looked at education and would begin putting in the work and excelling anywhere I could. So far, senior year has been hell…but I have never learned and appreciated as much as I do right now.
Look at you now, all grown up and ready to head off to university; don’t blow this opportunity you’re so graciously getting—you didn’t and won’t have to pay a cent for any of it. You’ve worked hard and diligently your entire life, first in the British system of schooling in Cayman and now here in the unfair and cruel American high school system; and we’re extremely proud of you for that…but now it’s time to take your work ethic up to the next level: don’t be a smartass and stick glue on the teacher’s chair or get with his daughter while he’s downstairs in their home—bad move, and you’ll end up uneducated and abandoned; be intelligent and polite but not so smart that you’re forced to take classes you probably won’t succeed in; make up your minds—you tell me one thing to do and then the next second it’s the opposite; what is it I should do then if you throw and shove contradictory advice down my throat?
Now if you didn’t grow up yet, it is time that you should. You’re a big boy now who can make his own decisions and face whatever consequences you must, but you’re still a child in our eyes; when you go away, make sure to call every day to let us know you’re still alive; if you don’t, the dean or one of her assistants will make sure you call ASAP. And don’t listen to or believe everything you hear and read; only we speak the entire truth to you. And please be careful driving on your own, sweetie; you’re a trustworthy and smart and safe but also sometimes to close or naïve with your friends: don’t let any of them drive the Altima; don’t drink or smoke or shoot up coke or anything these terrible druggies do nowadays—but especially not acid ‘cause that shit will mess you up for life and you will see things following you everywhere all the time. But we know you aren’t like that, but college kids like to experimentate; that reminds us: are you gay? There’d be no problem with it if you were—there wasn’t one when I met your father anyway…although blood relative grandchildren someday would be nice; maybe not now though. And if you ever have sex—which we pray to God that you wait until marriage to do—use a condom; it was a bad choice of ours to not use any contraceptives and we regret that each and every day of our—albeit mediocre—lives as wife and husband. I hope I’m adopted; or the mailman’s kid; or anything nothing like either of you when I’m older. My kids will love me, and I won’t regret their exist like you rebuke mine.
…is the man. Everything he writes turns to gold. He can write about a man sneezing and make it amazing. And yes, that’s right, he did do just that. I want to be Anton Chekov for Halloween…and every day thereafter.
Whoever told me senior was easy lied. I have no doubt in my overly cloudy mind that I am working harder and more daily than I ever have in my entire life. They all said senior was the time to take a load off and wait for college to come and all the good times then. Senior year is not my time to take a load off obviously. I don’t know if it’s just teachers trying to keep us from having senioritis, which is stupid in assigning so much work, or if it’s just me. But I don’t think it’s the latter.
I’ve not gone out for more than three hours in the last week. All this work is killing any spirit or good humor I had in me.