On Religion

  

        I am a logical person. In order to believe anything I need proof- hard, empirical evidence. I'm a debater, you see, and we rely on evidence for everything. If it doesn't have a source it simply is not true. As such, this can cause many problems. When my mother demands I must do the dishes NOW... I ask her why now- why perhaps, not later? Is there any concrete proof that 'later' would cause a catastrophe or improve the work done? The outcome is the same, isn't it? My teachers also find this frustrating. Why do busywork? What is the purpose? Homework? Pshaw!

       However, the most difficult idea I've ever had to rationalize is God. It sort of makes SENSE that we would have one- I mean, why would everyone go on about how awesome he was all the time unless there was one? But with all the catastrophes and cruelness in the world... it was (understandably) hard for me to believe in some big fellow above trying to guide my life. I didn't see any evidence of his existence. If I call his name, he doesn't show up in the clouds like "Yo Annette, what's up? I heard you were in need of assistance! How can I help?" Praying just feels like random chance. If praying succeeds; God heard me. If it doesn't... well I didn't do it hard enough, or God didn't think I needed help.

       But then one day, I was thinking- a dangerous pastime. I began thinking about God and Jesus and all those wonderful things and where I fit in the world. I didn't understand how I would be going to hell because I believed in gay marriage, Harry Potter, and above all- evolution. This got me thinking- how could those with so much faith still believe- what with the overwhelming proof of evolution and all. I began thinking about the connections of animals and how they all evolved from eachother- and I arrived at a dead end. The Platypus.

The Platypus: 25% duck, 25% beaver, 25% snake, 25% alligator; 100% adorable!

       In case you are not familiar with it, the Platypus is a cat-sized animal. It is brown and aquatic- the otter of Eastern Australia. The Platypus also, however, has a duck bill, a beaver tail, webbed feet, venomous spikes on its feet, and is one of the few mammals that actually lay EGGS. It is, quite simply, one of the oddest creatures you will ever come across. No matter what angle I twisted the platypus, I simply could not see how this bizzarre creature could have evolved on its own. No, I surmised, this organism HAD to have some sort of divine hand playing with its genetics and guiding it along on its path to platypus-dom. This has become my proof of God.

       I imagine God one day looked at his roster (because as we all know, the big man is quite well organized). and was like "We need some really weird shit for Australia; ok let's see what we have. Pouched bear, pouched rabbit thing, terrifying snakes- I know what we need! A duck-billed-beaver-tailed-aquatic-egg-laying-mammal. And let's make it venomous; just for kicks."

       However, my faith is built upon a foundation of sand. If one day (God forbid!) someone proves the evolution of the platypus... well, then I suppose I will have to re-evaulate my faith. But until then, whenever I see that silly little mammal, I'm reminded of God's power- and his wicked sense of humor.
- Annette Dipert
(If you have any more questions about platypi, feel free to e-mail me!

(In case you were interested in the above on a shirt, Snorg Tees has it for sale.)

A History of Blogs

*Disclaimer* 

In the spirit of blogging I have decided that I MUST insert every thought that passes through my head as it occurs, regardless of the value of the content to the topic.

So, the teacher gives the class an assignment like any other and I approach it with relative apathy (sadly, like any other) until I realize that it is somewhat unique, as far as assignments go.
I have been told to write a blog.  In all honesty I have never truly held the remotest interest in blogging whatsoever, but I feel as though this is a prime opportunity for me to expand my horizons.  Thus, I am left to decide how to begin a blog about ... well, blogs.
What better place to start than at the beginning?

Progression of the Blog
Blogs began as an online diary sort of thing in the early 1990s; people recorded their day, including details ranging from how the new puppy peed on the carpet to the boyfriend who doesn’t put the toilet seat down, etc.  Nothing that couldn’t be done in a paper journal, but hey, we’re on the computer more and more as it is; we might as well get our money’s worth out of the internet service we already pay for.

By about 2000, the blog had grown exponentially in popularity, and today anyone can write a blog about whatever they want. They range from personal diaries to intense politically themed centers of discussion.
Regardless of the purpose of a blog, one can certainly manage to enjoy them (and if not, then perhaps you can compose your blog about how much you deplore the idea of blogging and the “miserable” lives of bloggers, etc.).
*RANDOM TANGENT* 
Someone ought to devise a clear method of inserting sarcasm into certain forms of text, with some sort of undisputed punctuation.  My life would then be complete. (Am I being sarcastic??? Exactly.)

Types of Blogs
There exists in the vast expanses of the internet a wide range of blogs, and often finding the one you want to read can be somewhat of an ordeal. Thus, I have taken it upon myself to distinguish the different variations for you. The omnipotent Wikipedia recognizes several types of blogs, which I will now attempt to summarize as accurately as possible (of course with some of my own personal opinion peppered in for rhetorical purposes).

·      Personal Blogs – epitomized by such social networking sites as Twitter, they tend to write incessantly of the minor details of life, often posted solely for personal entertainment with the cleverness of one’s own words.  Truly sentimental ones that contain any value almost never rise to fame because the ones composed by egotistical celebrities overshadow the homegrown, quality ones.

·      Corporate and Organizational Blogs – blogs created by companies that are desperate to be the first of their competition to reach their customers in the most obscure ways possible.  They often entice customers to come to their blog by offering some form of compensation for visiting, which I personally have never heard of being useful.  (If you’ve ever visited a blog-type site that claimed to offer some type of coupon sort of deal, and you were successful in redeeming your minor prize, I shall alert the media.)

·      Genre Blogs – these blogs focus on one specific topic, ranging from music to art, politics to travel, badly annotated pictures of cats to badly animated pictures of dogs, etc.  I am almost certain that there exists a blog for nearly every topic our meager human minds could imagine, and if there is not one for the topic of your choosing, one can certainly endeavor themselves into creating one. For instance, no one has established a blog on frozen peas, and, if you so wish, feel free to invalidate this statement by creating a blog dedicated to frozen peas.

·      Media Type Blog – this category includes Vlogs (video logs), linklogs (blogs consisting of links to other sites), photoblogs (picture logs), and the ever-popular Tumblr. These blogs are perfect for those of us who are far too lazy to write and/or too untalented to compose or create anything of worth. BUT, they do know what is in good taste, and can identify and relay quality information to others.

This is not to limit the freedom with which one can create a blog, but rather to attempt to categorize a majority of the existing ones.  Again, the range of blogs on the Internet are vast, many are made just for fun, and others with more serious and professional undertones.

My Blog
So, if I were to write a blog, what would it be about? Well, using this as a dry run, I can honestly say there is no possible way to narrow down all of the possibilities.  After intensively researching many blogs (a.k.a. mindlessly surfing the web for hours on end, potentially damaging my eyesight and as the only sign of remaining life, producing an occasional chuckle every ten or so minutes) I have concluded that I am not yet ready to tackle the business of blogging.
I will admit, I have certainly talked down blogs more than I have admitted to their intrinsic value.

However, as I delved into this new world of writing, I have developed a much greater appreciation for blogging as a whole. Of course there still exists an indeterminable number of people that could not take any activity less seriously, producing only pure garbage that the global community will forever shun and be embarrassed about, but that is not to say that there is nothing out there worth reading. In fact there is much out there worth reading.
And so I encourage you to read and maybe even follow a blog if you haven’t already. Perhaps you’ll StumbleUpon something you enjoy after all.

Thoughts on my "blog" please comment or e-mail me at jacob.martin@studentmail.fcps.edu
Compliments preferred, criticism grudgingly accepted :)

You Know You Like It

So I had previously planned to write about how amazing being a twin is, and how everyone else should envy me. But then I saw Bridesmaids on Friday and decided to change my topic.

Bridesmaids, starring Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph, had to be one of the funniest movies I'd ever seen. I'm not going to prattle on about the movie, though. I'm just saying, GO SEE IT. But, anywho, a scene at the end of the movie stood out to me and made me think about how other movies have used the same technique to make the movie better; A song and dance scene.

Now I know some of you (cough cough, Nicole) will probably roll your eyes at the idea of singing and dancing in a movie. "IT'S CORNY! SO DUMB! UNREALISTIC!" But you know you like it.

In great movies such as Shrek, 500 Days of Summer, and Ella Enchanted there are dance scenes either at the end, or throughout the movie that are memorable. However, none of these movies can be classified as musicals. They just happen to have musical sequences in them. So to all the people who hate on Rent or Hairspray or Chicago, let me ask you this? Don't lie.

How attractive was Gordon Levitt in 500 Days of Summer when he started dancing in the streets to Hall and Oat's, "You Make My Dreams Come True"? If I can answer that question, Pretty. Darn. Attractive.

But back to my point, dance sequences are loveable.

Watch the one at the end of Shrek. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUqP3xva__I 

You know you liked it.

Music brings a fun side out of any movie. And even if the movie is fun already, it adds on to the heaping pile of joy. Actors can't very easily fake good dancing, and its too funny to watch them dance badly. In Bridesmaids when Kristen Wiig and Maya Rudolph dance together, any insecurity I felt towards this movie to that point was vanished. It earned an A in my book, when maybe without that dance scene it might have earned an A-. Maybe even a B+!

Keep this in mind as you hate on movies where people hope to sweep you away with their musical ability. You pretend you don't, but you know you like it.

 If you deny this still, TELL ME. >: ( molly.everett@studentmail.fcps.edu

Procrastination.

Yea. We all do it. We can't help it. But why?

                        

       We've all been in this ladies position. She's left all that work till the last minute, and is overwhelmed. She feels as though there is no way that she'll ever be able to finish this crazy amount of work.  Pretty soon she'll be beating herself over the head with a rolling pin wondering what point there is to life. Oh well.
      Yet the sad truth is that there is no real cure for procrastination. It's a disease which has plagued the human race since our beginning. Obviously, it is the sole reason we have taken so long to evolve. I mean really, hundreds of millions of years is stretching it a bit. Cavemen were simply having too much fun clubbing eachother and lighting stuff on fire to want to do anything else. Who can blame them? That doesn't sound like too bad a life.



     Look at this dude. He's happy as can be. Why would he want to waste time "evolving" into the modern day human being which is forced to deal with such atrocities as soggy cereal, paper cuts, and carpal tunnel syndrome. That's no fun.  He'd rather just chill with his buddies making unintelligible grunting noises.
     Sadly though, our caveman friend will look procrastination in the face and confront it. He will throw away his club, stop grunting like an idiot, and set to the task of evolving. After a few bajillion years, he's done it. Behold, the homo sapiens:


     Well, one can't really be sure that caveman did a great job at the whole evolving thing, but at least he gave it a shot. Yet one is forced back to the question; why do people procrastinate.
      Some would make the case that it's because we are all inherently lazy. While that may have some validity to it, it can't be prescribed as the reason for procrastination. When I'm procrastinating, I've been known to walk the dog, do the dishes, or even clean my room. These are not the tasks of a lazy person. In that case, Those are simply the lesser of two evils.
      Psychologists would say something along the lines of "It stems from one's innate incapabilities to confront his inner self and..." Blah blah blah. That's a load of baloney as well.
      Here's my official diagnosis. Procrastination happens because...We don't like to do stuff! Yep. That's it. If I don't like doing my homework, I will procrastinate, and eat a bagel.  If I liked doing my homework, it would already be done, and I wouldn't be sitting here right now typing away.
     In that light, procrastination is really quite simple. The analogies are infinite.
-If I don't like eating tomatoes, I will not walk into the kitchen and shove a tomato in my mouth.
-If I don't like standing on my head, I will not torture myself in that manner.
Which brings us back to....
If I don't want to do something, I will avoid doing it at all costs.
Procrastination.
      Now that that's been determined, It's clear that nothing can be done about procrastination. You can't make someone like something that they don't already like. Sometimes, that happens on its own. But you can't make it happen. If someone goes to bed not liking bananas, you can't force him to like bananas when he wakes up in the morning. Most likely, he will hate them even more, and you as well. So, unfortunately, we are stuck with procrastination till the end of time.

For any questions, please email me at john.wilder@studentmail.fcps.edu

“Let me put it to you this way… ‘wat u up 2 tday? mondayz r the wurst.’”

dus it bthr u whn ppl rite lik dis on the net? its lik there speakin a diffrnt languig tht mkes no sens unls u tak time 2 luk @ it.

Sure, that might have been leaning a bit towards the extreme end of the spectrum, but this is the sort of thing that is surely a common sight to all who use the Internet. Now I don’t know about any of you out there, but being the “grammar Nazi” that I am this sort of thing just bugs me. And I’m sure that I’m not the only one.

 

I mean I can understand when some people make mistakes, since spell checks aren’t available everywhere, nor are they terribly reliable in certain circumstances. Everyone makes mistakes after all. Not to mention, the Internet is admittedly not the same as an English classroom, or even a writing center, where spelling and grammar should be kept at a high level.

Even so, I honestly wonder why people must insist on typing with shorthand methods like that. Sure, it can save time for whoever is typing the message by shortening a few words. Even then, this doesn't apply to those people who, for some reason, feel that replacing "was" with "wuz" makes everything better. In addition and unfortunately, I don’t think those who are on the receiving end of such messages can really say that they've saved anything.

In my opinion, the shorthand writing of the Internet is simply a mess to sort through. For all of the time saved by the sender of the message, the reader would have to spend an equal or greater amount of time wading through the disjointed letters to piece together the meaning on their own, or at worst even misunderstanding and horribly skewing the intended message. Even those virtuosos in the mystical art of removing letters from words have to spend some time looking at the message in order to know what the sender was trying to tell them. These few seconds must, of course, once again be made up to relieve our busy schedules, and so the cycle of shorthand continues in one everlasting eyesore.

With the amount of exposure to the Internet and other shortened speech forms, such as the similar concept of “txt tlk” for texting with cell phones, kids are getting the impression that these sort of casual abbreviations are acceptable.

They’re not.

...Okay, okay, so maybe they’re not so bad when you’re talking with friends. But even so, excessive use of it in every part of a person’s life can have some pretty damaging effects on their English skills regardless. If you want proof, look no further than our nation’s “cherished” SAT, where scores for both reading and writing have been, and still are, on a steady decline. (Of course, for what it’s worth, math scores are getting better, so I hope you can read those charts!)

I’d honestly hoped that students would at least be required to type or write their essays and other English homework properly, and would thus be able to get practice with typing more than a staggering nine words in actual English, preventing this "streamlining" of language. Well, curses, foiled again. Regrettably, looking into the matter only confirms the issue that students are perfectly fine with using “u” as an appropriate substitution for “you” in their analyses of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

In the end, sure, maybe u can get ur point across with one or two letters when you're chatting with your friends. Have fun explaining to your boss what your memo says in a few years.

All in all, I guess that's about it with this little rant of mine. If you want to talk with me, feel free to send me a message! (No shorthand, plz please.)

Promenade!...a.k.a, Prom!

The anticipation of preparing for prom and being asked, wears on girls' minds, well, at least my mind, ALL THE TIME!  Yes, I'll admit, it's kind of pathetic, but honestly, as soon as senior year started, it’s been all I could think about: finding the perfect dress, the right heels, accessories, hairdo, make-up, awesome ride (who wants to get driven by their parents? Not I) and so on and so forth, but what about a date? When does he come around? From a single persons stand point, going with girlfriends is always a blast, but having a date would make this particular occasion even more special. Ha, Guys think they have it rough when in actuality, it is definitely the girls! We are the ones who have to WAIT for the guys to come and ask. I mean come on, how much time do guys need to prep?! Just do it already! Now, I'm not sour, all I'm saying is that if guys want to ask a girl to prom, don't over think it, just do it. Find a way to personalize what you are going to do. We're girls, we are able to tell who put in effort! In the end, we'll most likely say yes...unless you spell out P-R-O-M in meat patties…yeesh.

Wow, hope this blog doesn't make me sound desperate for a date, because I'm absolutely not. I'm 110% sure that if I don't get asked , prom will still be amazing!! Well, that's only if it's not cancelled because a hand full of super cool seniors decided to start an oh-so harmless food fight that just so happened to end up on national televsion. But any-who, I am excited none-the less.

  

Don't let this be you!

 What TO do!

I remember back when I was a sophmore, I saw this one girl get asked to prom, and I got to hand it to the guy, he did a good job! The guys dressed up in a Tarzan costume, because the girl he was asking played Jane in a Disney themed show, and waltzed  into her chorus class with a beautiful bouquet of flowers while the entire choir sang (we were informed ahead of time) one of the songs from the disney movie inserting the words "Will you go to Prom with me"?  Extremely cute, and of course, the girl said yes! But hold the phone, girls can ask guys to Prom too, I suppose--It's not exactly my favorite idea, but it is an option. For girls tips, click me!-this ones for the LADIES! For guys,  Click Here! This ones for the FELLAS!

<----- What NOT to do!

 So anyways, just to let you curious readers know, I indeed have my prom dress, which is the FIRST and foremost IMPORTANT thing to get--everything else is down hill after the dress, seriously! I got it actually a year in advance, NOT becasue I tried to beat all the other 100+ girls in search of finding a dress--worried that I'd have a twin at prom, but because I did a pageant over the summer and didn't want my parents paying hard earned cash for another formal dress. Which brings up another topic, be SMART when preparing for prom! Know that you don't have to pay trillions of dollars for this occasion! Alright, enough ranting, here's something for YOU my star shine! Here is a website informing you of all the do's and don'ts when it comes to prom, girls addition--Click Me!



Do!



Don't



                                          

SENIORS, prom is just around the corner!! *Breath, Biana, Breath* Be excited!...so I wont feel as much of a dork as I do now! I sure hope it's as cracked up to be as Hollywood makes it! Hope the tips helped!

 *If you want to chat with me more,

E-mail me at Briana.Beale@studentmail.fcps.edu

published by: Briana Beale

Life with a Puppy

About 4 months ago my family got a new puppy, Dixie. We were so excited to have another dog in the house and to have a playmate for our 2 year old poodle, Jazz.  Jazz was the perfect puppy, well, not perfect, but as close to perfect as one who likes to chase squirrels can be. He even poses for pictures!

Little did we know that Dixie would be the complete opposite of Jazz.

Dixie, as my mom describes her is, “hell on wheels”. When she was smaller, she didn’t follow the normal puppy sleep schedule of play-nap-play-nap-play-nap, instead choosing to conserve her energy and take only one nap in the middle of the day. To anyone who has never had a puppy, this might not seem so bad. But, believe me when you’re on Dixie-duty, you live for naptime.  

The hours that Dixie was awake, she required almost constant supervision. You couldn’t just watch her; you had to entertain her as well because a bored Dixie equals a Dixie getting into trouble. Your time is instead spent pulling tissues out of her mouth, wrestling shoes back, begging her to stop pulling on Jazz’s ears and telling her to stop jumping on the counter. Add to the mix having to take her out every 20 minutes or have to clean up a yellow puddle and you end up exhausted faster than she does. And this starts at 5:30 every morning and only ends when she (finally) goes to bed around 10:30, even on the weekends.

Oh, and you remember how I said we got her 4 months ago? Count back and you’ll realize that we got her in the winter. When it’s COLD. Who in their right mind gets a puppy in the middle of winter? My family, that’s who. Have you ever had to take a puppy out to go to the bathroom when it’s below freezing, the ground is covered in ice, and you have to wait through the most elaborate poo-dance known to dog-kind? Well, let me tell you that I wish I had bothered to put on a coat that night because it was really hard to tell Dixie to hurry up with my teeth chattering.

Luckily, as Dixie gets a little older and a wee bit more experienced with the way things work, things get better and I couldn’t imagine life without my little black ball of fur.

Interested in getting a puppy and want to know what you're getting yourself into? Email me here, then go check out Dixie and Jazz's breeder's website.

"Undo what heredity's done to you"

I know that based on my title you may think I'm going to express my deepest feelings and rant about the unfairness of genetics in my blog. Nope. I'm going to talk about hair dye. Yeah, you heard me. Hair dye.What can I say? I love dying my hair. Not pink, blue, or green; but normal colors. There's something thrilling about having the power to change even something heredity has given to you. Not that I dislike my natural hair color (although i'm not sure what it is at this point...). Instead, I simply become bored of the current shade of my hair. In fact, I had in mind something similar to this color for next time (maybe a little less...red.)

 Granted, I've only dyed my hair 3 times. Gold streaks, almost completely blond, and even black through a slight mishap. I mean, the box did say medium brown. Cheap cosmetics can be so decieving. Which brings me to box dyes in general. Ahh, box dyes. So convenient, so inexpensive. An excellent place to find reviews of different hair dyes is here or email me to get my opinion(so you don't end up with black hair after you CLEARLY bought a brown dye!) However, most boxed shades fade like there's no tomorrow. In late december, I used this one right here.

My hair ended up about 5 shades darker than I expected, but that's beside the point. Within a few weeks, my friends were interrogating me relentlessly about why I had dyed my hair lighter again. Sadly, I hadn't touched a box of the stuff since December. Tsk, tsk. It's amazing how quickly people notice even the SLIGHTEST change in your appearance. I thought people were supposed to be more concerned with themselves to even notice the zits, make-up smudges, and hair malfunctions of their peers. Oh well. Of course there are plenty of upsides to this quick-fading characteristic of drugstore-brand hair colors. For example, if you simply want to try out a color but don't want to pay massive amounts of money at a high-end hair salon, head over to your local walmart and you can have that bleach blond hair you've always wanted by dinnertime.

...or not. 

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

“When will you understand that being normal isn’t necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage.”

The movie? Practical Magic.The year? 1998. The ratings? Not good. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.

     What I’m really interested in on this particular day are those strange people you see all over the world. Maybe they’re at the mall, maybe at school, maybe at church, or maybe even the park.

A story for example:
     This lady in my ward at church has a brain tumor—and it’s pretty bad. So bad that she has lost her sight and she can no longer lift things or drive. Sad, I know. But this lady is probably one of the nicest people I've ever met. So I babysit for her while she goes to doctor's appointments, and basically whenever she needs someone to help out. This past Saturday, the day before Mother's Day, I babysat for her children in the afternoon. It was the perfect kind of day. Low to mid-seventies, and after watching the children like a prison guard watches prisoners without chains on for about four hours, I decided that we all needed a trip to the park for a cool down.

     This year is my last year at home for Mother's Day-- I'll be going away to college in the fall. And so I wanted to go out with a bang. So between the presents, a scarf and a necklace, I bought for my mom, and the breakfast-in-bed ordeal I was planning, complete with a Raspberry-Citrus Slushie that was to die for, Mother's Day was on my mind. Each picture the children colored was for their mother's special day.

     But I was still feeling disappointed with my efforts. All of the pictures were abstract, and no one wanted me to write, "I love you, Mommy" at the top. But I figured, at least we've done something.

     So up at the park, all the swings are taken. One in particular is occupied by a fourteen-year-old boy who looks far too big for it. He eventually got off but when you babysit, you tend to watch people closely--even if they are fourteen. This boy was talking to all the adults at the park and the children. He was obviously harmless, but he was a little weird. And yes, in my prejudiced mind I was thinking, "Okay, steer clear of this one."

     Then all of a sudden I look over and this boy has pulled out a balloon animal kit, and is making balloon animals up the wazoo! He quickly stopped and switched to Mother's Day flowers such as these:

      The best part was he was giving them out for free--as a promo for his business! Although the children wanted to go home and go inside, I made them all wait in line for flowers for their mother. It was like a cherry on a sundae to their Mother's Day presents.   

      The best part was he was giving them out for free--as a promo for his business! Although the children wanted to go home and go inside, I made them all wait in line for flowers for their mother. It was like a cherry on a sundae to their Mother's Day presents.   

      As we were leaving the park, this boy gave me his business card and told me to call him anytime I was having a party and needed balloon animals. I mean, I'm eighteen so I don't think I'll be needing too many balloon animals made for me in the near future. :) But if you'd like his information for your next party, you can email me and I'll send it to you.

     Once again, appearances were proven wrong today, and an odd, but obviously kind and talented boy presented me with three balloon animal flowers for Mother's Day. I'm fairly certain I got a bigger kick out of this than the children. One popped before we even got home, and no one was too disappointed. But what can I say? I'm a sucker for stupid, sentimental gifts.

When Hugs Become Awkward

Awkward hugs; we’ve all experienced them at one point or another. These hugs may be unwanted, misplaced, or even stiff yet; they may end up bringing people closer than one might have thought.

I, for one, have had my fair share of awkwardness and have noticed that many of my awkward hug experiences tend to occur at school. Why you may ask? Well, I have thought long and hard about this and have come to three plausible reasons why school is the root cause of awkward hugs.

For one, there is this thing students’ carry on their backs as they go from class to class. I believe it is commonly referred to as a backpack. As students walk down the halls, they spot their friends and walk toward each other. Now, none of this is awkward until…they go in for the hug itself. The two friends, usually a girl and a girl or a boy and a girl, open their arms wide, approach each other until they reach their intended distance, and finally wrap their hands around the other’s…backpack? The backpack causes for uncertainty because huggers are no longer hugging the person, but their backpack. The hug is no longer an intimate sign of appreciation or thanks, but becomes a symbol to students everywhere of what to avoid. When the hug is over, I have noticed that the two people do one of two things. They either look shyly away from each other, hoping to erase the moment from their memories or they look straight into each other’s eyes and burst out laughing. This second action is a healthy sign for the participants because they have demonstrated to others that awkward moments can lighten the atmosphere and be forgotten with a good-hearted laugh and a genuine smile.

The second type of uncomfortable hug is the uneven hug. This occurs when people are different heights, one being extremely tall and the other being exceptionally short. When the two huggers approach each another, the awkwardness begins. For the time being, the tall person will be the guy and the short person will be the girl. If the roles are reversed, the situation may become more awkward for obvious reasons. Now, the tall person debates if he should bend down to hug the other. If he chooses to bend down too late, their arms might become twisted and oddly intertwined. However, if he chooses to stand at normal height, he may find himself patting the person’s head or hugging her with one arm to avoid making the height different more noticeable. The shorter person finds this situation awkward because she cannot reach the shoulders of the other. So, she becomes stuck hugging his waist and may start to feel crushed and a tad big claustrophobic. If, for some reason, the male has chosen to disregard the shower beforehand, the girl may become disgusted and may choose to avoid him at future encounters at school.  While this situation does not occur very often, when it does, the only thing to do is hope that the huggers smell clean and that the decision to bend down has been made in advance. With such measures, the moment should hopefully be awkward-free, allowing others to be optimistic about height differences and hugs.

The third and final awkward hug is the all-too-detested hug from behind. This occurs when a friend (let’s call him Bob) approaches another friend (let’s call her Sally) from behind. As Bob sees Sally, he realizes that her back is facing him and he will be unable to hug her from the normal position because she is surrounded by a group of her friends. Bob’s conclusion: it is necessary for me to give Sally a hug, so I might as well do it from behind. If Bob’s conclusion sounds like something you would do, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE refrain from acting upon it! Hugs from behind are awkward for both parties involved. If Bob decides to act on his impulse, Sally will feel uncomfortable because, for one, she did not even see the hug coming. How would you feel if all of a sudden you see two arms grabbing you from behind? Weird? Embarrassed?  If you answered yes to both, then good for you because that is exactly how Sally feels. Sally also feels odd in this situation because she doesn’t know if she should turn around and face Bob in order to return the hug. If she doesn’t turn around, she will be hugging him like she is tied to a pole, but if she does turn around, what will he do with his hands? If Sally rotates, Bob will have to disengage in the hug, only to re-engage two seconds later. This causes the timing of the hug to be off, making the two participants unsure of when to stop their hugging. While the back-hug is occurring, Bob may finally realize that his decision to hug Sally was not one of his finest moments. But it will be too late; he has already engaged in the hug. Bob must continue his back hug with Sally and they must face the awkwardness together.

While the first two hugs can be performed correctly if the participants fully understand the situation, the hug from behind can and will never be executed properly because it is just too awkward. Therefore, in order to avoid the most awkward hug of all hugs, please refrain from participating in this type of embrace, it just might save your reputation.

For my next blog, I will discuss handshakes.

If you want to see more awkward hugs visit:http://theoatmeal.com/comics/hugs

or you can email me at: nicole.lipka

A Serious Addiction

“Hi my name is Jessica and I’m addicted to television.” “Hi Jessica!”

Sorry, I couldn’t help but start this blog off humorously. Truthfully, I’m being completely serious, and this is a very real thing to me.

 What is the definition of addiction? According to dictionary.com, an addiction is “the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma”. Many people wouldn’t normally consider television to be an addiction, but in my mind there’s no doubt about it.

 Let me break this definition down piece by piece and apply it to television. It says “being enslaved to…something that is psychologically or physically habit forming”. A lot of people can sympathize with being a slave to the television (Not necessarily you. If that’s so, you should be grateful.), and know how hard of a habit it can be to break. In this age of multitasking I don’t feel comfortable just sitting down and eating a meal or snack, or doing something on the computer, I feel like I need to turn the TV on to keep my mind busy.

 The part of TV being an addiction that most people argue with is not that is can be psychologically habit forming, but that it can be physically habit forming as well. Now I’m not an expert, but I’ve read in a few places that when you watch TV, your nervous system slows down and your brain waves change. To me, these effects sound similar to those of depressant substances, and could cause a physical dependence on watching TV.

 The part of the definition of an addiction that I think doesn’t fit television is that “its cessation causes severe trauma”. While I do think you can start to crave TV and its calming effects, I don’t think that there is more than a psychological withdrawal when you decide to stop watching.

 It is hard to stop though. The TV sucks up such an enormous amount of your day that when you decide to turn it off, it can feel like there’s nothing else to do to fill your time. This problem is addressed in the blog Escape Your Television, where a guy writes about getting “sober” and turning off his TV.

 If you’ve ever struggled with this, or have any tips for me, feel free to email me.

-Jessica

Things to Do in Washington D.C.

When in Washington D.C., do as the natives do. I’ve lived in the suburbs of D.C. my entire life, so I’m pretty familiar with the in’s and out’s out our nation’s capital.

            If you’re going to make the trek to Washington D.C. there are some major things to make sure you see and do.

1.      Cherry Blossom Festival: The festival is not just for tree huggers of the world. I love the festival! If you’re going to go, make sure you bring your camera and some money for the metro and lunch. You won’t want to miss out on getting your picture taken with the blossoms or the water in the background. If you position the camera just right, you can even get the Lincoln Memorial in the background. If you’re an animal lover or dog owner, the event is very pet friendly. Tons of people leash up their canines and take them downtown for a beautiful picnic. Another thing, don’t bother with buying lunch at a restaurant unless you want some really high end dining, instead pack some food in a cooler and enjoy a picnic in between the trees. Guys, this is an awesome and cheap date that your girl is sure to love!

2.      National Yoga Day at the Washington Memorial: If you’re big into yoga, or if you just want to learn some new positions, definitely attend the Yoga Day at the Washington Monument. My boyfriend and I were going to the Cherry Blossom Festival and stumbled upon masses of people that we assumed to be going to see the trees, but instead they set up camp all over the Washington Monument. It is one of the largest yoga gatherings in America, so you won’t want to miss out!

3.      Eastern Market: Although the building that housed the Eastern Market burned down in 2007, it is up and running again. I love shopping at Whole Foods, so I love shopping at the Eastern Market because it’s basically the mother ship of all food, flower, and craft stores. The prices are a little high for some items, but I feel like the experience makes the extra few dollars worth it. In the midst of the Capitol Hill and the fast paced life of D.C. life, it’s nice to step inside the newly redone building on the Eastern Market.

4.      Smithsonian Museums: I’m sure some of the Smithsonian Museum’s are on your list for places to visit while in town. My personal favorite is the Natural History Museum. It’s a girl’s must-see! Although usually really crowded, it’s definitely worth the wait to see the Hope Diamond. Don’t be fooled, though, there are so many different gems and pieces of jewelry to look at besides the Hope Diamond. For guys, there are plenty of dinosaurs and manly exhibits for you to wander in as your gals drool over what you can never afford to buy them

Enjoy Washington D.C., but don’t be too surprised when it takes you thirty minutes to go a meager few miles. Just be patient and try to take in the significance of the city. D.C. is where history is made, so try to be a little inspired!

If you want to reach me, I'd recommend you press here!!

Not Too Gaga for Gaga Anymore

You know when you’re talking about someone and your friend goes “Who’s that?” and then you start trying to think of those distinctive “identifiers” of that person? Like, “the girl who always wear cardigans” or “the guy who started the food fight”? Well, for probably a solid year, one of my “identifiers” was “the girl who is obsessed with Lady Gaga.”

It’s true. I was obsessed with Lady Gaga. Lady Gaga t-shirt? Check. Lady Gaga email list? Check. Lady Gaga ringtone? Check. Crying over my parents not buying Lady Gaga concert tickets (the first time around at least)? Check, check, and check. 

I’m a little embarrassed to disclose the fact that I did indeed cry (but I would not necessarily say “like a baby”, ahem) after my first failed attempt to ask my parents to buy me Lady Gaga tickets. I know I probably do sound like a spoiled brat right about now, but COME ON! Everyone has an obsession!! I know some of you would KILL (or maybe just cry like me) to meet your favorite Hogwarts student or go see your favorite musician perform, whoever that may be.

Now that I’m done defending myself from the evil, judging minds of my fellow Writing Center tutors (or maybe even other readers! If so, HELLO and please do tell me how you found our super popular blog!), I’m going to get back to the main point:

I was obsessed with Lady Gaga.

Please note the change in bold and italics from the word “obsessed” to the word “was.”

I know…you are just as shocked and sad as I am to be reading that sentence with the new change in emphasis.

The worst part is that this change in heart began very soon after I finally did attend her Monster Ball Tour concert at Verizon Center on Thursday, February 24^th, 2011 at 8 PM. (Yes, I may not be obsessed with her anymore, but I do still remember that date like it’s my birthday. Except I don’t even know what day of the week I was born on…woops.) Not because of the concert, because the concert was AMAZING (yes, so amazing that it deserved to be bolded, italicized, underlined, and capitalized), but because of her new image and music.

She went from being a unique, innovative, creative, avant-garde, controversial, fun kind of crazy…:

…to just plain CRAZY:

Please refrain from saying “I told you so,” “I knew it all along,” or “Took you long enough.” This is the unfortunate transformation of Lady Gaga from a talented, fresh artist who could make pop/dance music and actually could sing, write songs, and play an instrument, while standing up for real problems in the world and being totally out there just enough to get people talking but to also draw them in…to a gimmicky, overly analytical, egotistical, generic pop singer who tries MUCH too hard (as evidenced by the above photos) to stand out.

Gaga, you used to stand out for being DIFFERENT, but now you stand out for just being too WEIRD. But what’s worse than just your image going sour is that your music is too. Your music is what made people, like me, love you. People liked your music first, and then went along with whatever you wore or stood up for.

Mother Monster, I sincerely ask you to please refocus on your music (more of this and much less of this, please!). I’m sorry, but I just cannot stand the “Judas, Juda-ah-ah” part!! There are a million other components of your new songs and music videos that I could criticize, but that would take a series of blog posts (Hey! Not a bad idea….).

Lady Gaga: I may not be obsessed with you anymore, but I am still a loving Little Monster and have hope that this is just a bump in the road and you’ll come back and find yourself…and take my obsession back to me too. If you need help finding me, you can contact me here. 

All I need now is a title for this post...I GOT A TEXT.

Okay. I admit it; it’s Thursday night, and I’m just starting my blog. Sure, like any other high school student, I’ve fallen victim to procrastination. Yet, at this time of year, something else is happening. Changes are happening. No, they’re not the kind of changes that require those Me and My Body videos that teachers so awkwardly forced us to watch in elementary school. However, these changes do occur when you happen to hit a certain age, specifically Senior year. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about now. It’s the dreaded Senioritis.

You know a term is legitimate when it’s defined in Wikipedia. (Go ahead. Check.) However, “term” may not be a strong enough of a word to be assigned to this experience. Senioritis is a disease. It spreads throughout your body and consumes it, while simultaneously paralyzing your mind. (Frankly, this seems like a perfectly acceptable excuse for Seniors who do not have their homework on time.) Take me, for example. Normally, I’m a very academically oriented student, and I take pride in my work. Yet, at the moment, I’m failing AP Government and World Religions, while also having an “Incomplete” in AP Literature. In my defense, I have been afflicted with a persistent sinus infection, which led to me being absent for an entire week. Once I make up my work, I will be back to grades higher than ‘F’s. Sadly, it’s not as easy as it seems. Due to my serious case of Senioritis, my papers and I have had multiple staring contests, all of which I have lost on account of being distracted either by a text, or the temptation of surfing the Internet. (Curse you, YouTube!) 

                         

The recovery from Senioritis is long and arduous. It requires patience and determination, and while yes, I have been determined to catch up on my missed episodes of the ever so entertaining 16 and Pregnant, I am also determined to graduate. College is just around the corner, and I’d rather not receive a, “We’re sorry, but we changed our minds” letter from William & Mary.

                         

So, there you go. If you want to conquer Senioritis, think about how you don’t want your future to be living in a box. (My friend and I have been stuck in a box before. Trust me; it’s not fun.) With that said, I am quickly approaching 400 words, and am now celebrating my hard-earned victory over the aforementioned disease. For the next few days, all I have to do is study for an Islam test, shoot a photography assignment, create a World Religions visual, start on my PowerPoint for Capstone…

…Eh.

If you want to e-mail me, click here. I'll respond. Eventually.

Insert hair-related pun here.

Long hair was more than just a style to me.

It was a way of life.

No, just kidding. But in all seriousness, I can't even begin to fathom why I ever chose to have long hair. It's one of those things that you don't really begin to think about until you're over with, like being in a hurricane or committing arson.

I'm not going to lie about it anymore. I was aiming to adopt the image of a viking, getting ready to wage a deadly war against 11th century Britain.  Sadly, I didn't posses nearly enough facial hair, muscle, or throwing axes to successfully pass myself off as a viking. Long hair was as far as I was going, evidently.

Some people said I looked like a girl. Let me ask you, then; does this manly visage to the right side of your internet browser look anything like a girl to you?

I thought not. Maybe being a viking does lie entirely in the facial hair.

Seriously, now. I thought myself to be something I wasn't. I thought that long hair meant something else. I thought I looked like a valiant hero or a dreamy hunk with long blond locks flowing over my shoulders like a fuzzy scarf. I was told I looked a lot more like Cousin It than anything else.

In  the end, it was all about apathy. I wasn't striving to be different, I wasn't trying to set myself apart. It was simply because I didn't care. I didn't care what other people thought, I didn't care that I looked like a girl. And plus, my neck was pleasantly warm all year around.

The question still probably remains in your mind: Why did I decide to cut it? Why did I decide to throw away the years of waiting? The reason for cutting it was the exact same reason for not cutting it: I just didn't care. I really didn't care, after a point, what length my hair was at. I just decided I was ready for a change.

When I said I didn't care what my hair looked like just now, yeah. That was a lie. There was only one style I was vehemently opposed to: the buzz cut. I'm not ripping people with buzz cuts, but really, now. I don't want my head to look like a delightfully round slightly fuzzy peach. There's also the tendency for buzz cuts to appear predominantly on jocks. If you happen to be in the buzz cut minority, and you are, in fact, not a jock, I apologize, but unless you have some sort of fetish for peaches, there's no excuse.

Eventually, I decided that I just wanted a medium-length hair cut. I actually had no real measure of what medium was; I had not changed my hair style since elementary school, so long was long and that was it. I still don't know if my hair is short or medium, but I'm happy with it

. Although I no longer appear to be a viking, I'm more confident that I look at least a little bit more acceptable. After I came back to school post-haircut, I got compliments from people I didn't even know the name of. Girls just turned to me and said, "Nice haircut" or, "I like your hair." Girls. Real ones. I knew for a fact I did something right.

And that's why I'm still happy with my current hair. I may be a viking no longer, but I'm happy.

I can be contacted at thatmartykid@gmail.com. Don't expect me to reply, though. That's asking too much.