Basically, i have been fortunate enough lately to go untouched by traumatic horrors. Luck must be on my side. A new leaf has been turned over. A new road paved. Who knows why.
Anyways, that means i have been boring. So here are some random semi interesting stuffffff.
1. The other day my mom had the pile of mail in her hand. She was going through it when she pulled out two letters. Oh, look at that. One letter from Whoooopi and the other from ths.. HMM what could these be?! OH better open the smart daughters first... aHHH! Congratulations daughter, you made the deans list!!! YAY. Husband, she made the deans list! And the second letter of course, being about me...Your daughter has missed three days of school. In our school system students are only allowed seven absences and must complete a certain number of full school days. Further absences may result in a non-completion of the school year. Have a happy day. GO ME! yeah. fail. At least my mom thought my response to that was funny.. "oh! so i can still miss four more days!" hahaa. yeah.
1.5 Also, today i saw another pile of mail! And it being me birthday and all the other day, there was a late bday card! YAY more money!! I frantically opened it up!! JUST TO FIND>..... it was empty. -__-
2. I have been making new friends with people i should have already known by friend association. If that makes sense..i like new friends.
3. TENNIS started today. Oh damn. Running around the school! Really?! Damn you new construction making the distance longer. Yeah. I hate running. Never mind my lack of tennis skills, i was more worried about running around nowhere. Blah. At least it was cold enough out to swell my hands and face. Lucky me and cold enduced urticaria.
4. Today in chemistry class, the teacher called on me to answer a problem. The question was about isotopes and protons etc. Basically i got the easy part which was subtraction 23-11. I said "uhh (mumble mumble) thirrrteeeenn?" then a.. "oh wait hold on.. (me doing the math in my notebook) TWELVE." Im pretty sure i should get a medal because i made the teacher laugh. WOW. Im good.
5. UHH. im running out of things.. hmm alana found the roasting chicken!!! AHH! Who fricken knows why we couldnt find it before. Idk.
5. I just spent a week with only my sister and my mom. And now im spending this week with only my DAD. weirrrddd. hah but i did get a funny text from my mom. Shes in vegas. And so far.. she has lost six dollars. That made me laugh.
6. I keep looking over at this book on my desk. You see, i stole it. From... a random house. In hawaii. Its called Lifeguard. I like lifeguards. So i took it.
7. OMG. Im the art teachers pet. YAY. I have no idea how i did it. But i am. I got an A, and everyone else didnt. and i missed three days of school, as my letter told me. Anyways, that lady loves me.
8. OMFG it was my bday. I got an awesome new camera. I took many pictures. And I cant figure out how to get them off the camera. So thats a fail. On the other hand, i took the easiest test (permit test) of my life and totally drove around in a parking lot. The only bad part was the people in the other corner of the parking lot dealing drugs. hah. Then i drove around my street. Like twenty kajillion million billion times. It was fun. The neighbors enjoyed it too. But alana didnt. She made me take her back home and drop her off. Booo.
9. Oh yes also the other day i went babysitting. This is kind of fun partially because i get money... and partially because i get to sculpt the mind of a little child. Shes going to be just like me. I know it. Shes already a freak. And hystericall. AHhh. YAY. While i was there though i watched a movie. Twice. And speaking of movies i got the movie WANTED for my bday. Which is just basically kind of amazing. Im pretty sure i can totally slow things down with my mind just like mr. tumus. hells yeah.
10. Basically thats the end.. I will probably delete this soon because its kind of boring and not traumatic. But i felt like writing stuufffff. yeah.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Chemistry Escapades
Now with a jump to more recent news:
Within this new semester, i have strong awkward feelings towards my D block chemistry class. There is something about that class which i find troubling and find myself pondering the reasons to when i go to sleep at night. The room. The atmosphere. The TEACHER. Everything. I have no idea what it is or how to accurately describe it, all i can do is tell you the facts.
Fact one- I sit front row center. This means im bound to be called upon, looked at, and in general im an open easy target due to the lack of people smarter than me to block the teachers view of me.
Fact two- The front row center seat, is the crotch and nostril seat. Obviously being me that WOULD be my seat. All class, which really seems like an eternity of babbling, I get to stare either at the nice mans belt buckle, or up the nice mans nose. Just my luck of course.
Fact three- My crappy seat affects my learning. Being the thrifty observer of people and actions that i am, sitting in the front row is the exact opposite of my ideal seat. Not only can i not see anyone, i am practically forced to become a social idiot. You see while the class sees and hears the jokes the class clown in the back is making about the teacher when he turns around, i of course, am stuck watching the second hand go round and round the clock. I have absolutely no idea of any type of misbehavior or humor occurring behind me, and therefore am startled by the teacher standing directly atop me yelling violently, while i was diligently working.
Now just in rereading this, i have come to the conclusion that the seating arrangement of the classroom may be the entire reason for the wretched 84 minutes. But on the other hand, the main point of this was to convey to you how easily this can become traumatic. For example...
It was yesterday. I was sitting yet again in chemistry class. Lonesome little me, in the front, chilled by the draft of the teachers constant pacing. Now that i recall, i cant even remember the topic of discussion, or anything of the sort. Anyways, there i am as quiet as can be, trying to go as unnoticed as possible. The teacher, what does he want? Of course, a volunteer. Aye! But it shall not be me! What on earths heavenly periodic table of elements do i have to add to the demonstration that no other can preform?! Well looks like im in the clear, he asked for a volunteer, so ill just sit back and watch some other poor soul. But wait! What just happend!? Why yes, we are talking about Colette here everyone. Of course, the teacher called on me. Disregarding his previous statement of a "volunteer" he apparently thought that me holding my hands beneath the desk meant i was urgently trying to get his attention to pick me. Anyways, to move along with the story, he wanted me to look at a thermometer every minute and give him the temperature readings. Oh damn. Who knew reading a thermometer could be so challenging. In front of the class, i stupidly read what i thought was an intelligent reading of "2.....point 5?" Just to be quickly shot down with a "NO, thats not it." After a few seconds of dumb founded mumbling and a few under my breath OMG's, he finally gave me the answer of "it must be twenty five, not two point five." So practically im already retarded and through my cluttered mind enabling me to read a temperature scale i could hear the crickets echoing and im pretty sure i saw a tumbleweed pass. So basically everything is silent except for the next few slowly passing minutes when Colette and her squeaky desk interrupt everything to look at a thermometer she can not read. So, after four minutes, the teacher was on a role, so i decided to stop. Shortly after that, i get a "wha.. col..." which i quickly responded to with an "Oh did you want me to keep going!?'. which lead to another horror of the teacher rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Yes i wanted you to keep watching, we havent seen a significant change!!", then me, "Oh My Bad," which lead to an eruption of laughs from my previously deadly silent classmates. After much struggle, i did my task. Yes, poorly. Yes, i managed to ruin/ mess up the experiment. Yes, i looked like and idiot in front the teacher and the class. And YES, it was a significant traumatic moment.
All this goes to show that chemistry is a very substantial form of a trauma creating atmosphere. One last thing, today, yet again in chemistry class, we were lucky enough to play LAST CHEMIST STANDING. Despite the fact none of us are chemists, we all joined in as a review game. The first ten or so competitors easily breezed through there round of questions leading me to believe i should do the same. Sadly, i was mistaken. He comes to me. Its my turn. When SUDDENLY!!, a huge ass question that boggles my mind comes out of the teachers mouth which quickly disables me to thoroughly hear the actual question never mind interpret it. Basically, the answer was "evaporation" but thinking on my toes i said, "sublimation." How dumb am i right. I mean, it wouldnt have been SO bad, if it werent for the look on the teachers face comprehending my outraged lack of simple knowledge. So, if you were wondering, YES, i was the first chemist sitting. Traumatic, yes i believe so. It practically made me wanna fall off a bridge in plasma, which is the fourth type of matter which is the largest maker-upper of the universe, rather than a liquid, which makes up the largest part of the earth. I suppose i learned something. HAH. yeah.
Within this new semester, i have strong awkward feelings towards my D block chemistry class. There is something about that class which i find troubling and find myself pondering the reasons to when i go to sleep at night. The room. The atmosphere. The TEACHER. Everything. I have no idea what it is or how to accurately describe it, all i can do is tell you the facts.
Fact one- I sit front row center. This means im bound to be called upon, looked at, and in general im an open easy target due to the lack of people smarter than me to block the teachers view of me.
Fact two- The front row center seat, is the crotch and nostril seat. Obviously being me that WOULD be my seat. All class, which really seems like an eternity of babbling, I get to stare either at the nice mans belt buckle, or up the nice mans nose. Just my luck of course.
Fact three- My crappy seat affects my learning. Being the thrifty observer of people and actions that i am, sitting in the front row is the exact opposite of my ideal seat. Not only can i not see anyone, i am practically forced to become a social idiot. You see while the class sees and hears the jokes the class clown in the back is making about the teacher when he turns around, i of course, am stuck watching the second hand go round and round the clock. I have absolutely no idea of any type of misbehavior or humor occurring behind me, and therefore am startled by the teacher standing directly atop me yelling violently, while i was diligently working.
Now just in rereading this, i have come to the conclusion that the seating arrangement of the classroom may be the entire reason for the wretched 84 minutes. But on the other hand, the main point of this was to convey to you how easily this can become traumatic. For example...
It was yesterday. I was sitting yet again in chemistry class. Lonesome little me, in the front, chilled by the draft of the teachers constant pacing. Now that i recall, i cant even remember the topic of discussion, or anything of the sort. Anyways, there i am as quiet as can be, trying to go as unnoticed as possible. The teacher, what does he want? Of course, a volunteer. Aye! But it shall not be me! What on earths heavenly periodic table of elements do i have to add to the demonstration that no other can preform?! Well looks like im in the clear, he asked for a volunteer, so ill just sit back and watch some other poor soul. But wait! What just happend!? Why yes, we are talking about Colette here everyone. Of course, the teacher called on me. Disregarding his previous statement of a "volunteer" he apparently thought that me holding my hands beneath the desk meant i was urgently trying to get his attention to pick me. Anyways, to move along with the story, he wanted me to look at a thermometer every minute and give him the temperature readings. Oh damn. Who knew reading a thermometer could be so challenging. In front of the class, i stupidly read what i thought was an intelligent reading of "2.....point 5?" Just to be quickly shot down with a "NO, thats not it." After a few seconds of dumb founded mumbling and a few under my breath OMG's, he finally gave me the answer of "it must be twenty five, not two point five." So practically im already retarded and through my cluttered mind enabling me to read a temperature scale i could hear the crickets echoing and im pretty sure i saw a tumbleweed pass. So basically everything is silent except for the next few slowly passing minutes when Colette and her squeaky desk interrupt everything to look at a thermometer she can not read. So, after four minutes, the teacher was on a role, so i decided to stop. Shortly after that, i get a "wha.. col..." which i quickly responded to with an "Oh did you want me to keep going!?'. which lead to another horror of the teacher rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Yes i wanted you to keep watching, we havent seen a significant change!!", then me, "Oh My Bad," which lead to an eruption of laughs from my previously deadly silent classmates. After much struggle, i did my task. Yes, poorly. Yes, i managed to ruin/ mess up the experiment. Yes, i looked like and idiot in front the teacher and the class. And YES, it was a significant traumatic moment.
All this goes to show that chemistry is a very substantial form of a trauma creating atmosphere. One last thing, today, yet again in chemistry class, we were lucky enough to play LAST CHEMIST STANDING. Despite the fact none of us are chemists, we all joined in as a review game. The first ten or so competitors easily breezed through there round of questions leading me to believe i should do the same. Sadly, i was mistaken. He comes to me. Its my turn. When SUDDENLY!!, a huge ass question that boggles my mind comes out of the teachers mouth which quickly disables me to thoroughly hear the actual question never mind interpret it. Basically, the answer was "evaporation" but thinking on my toes i said, "sublimation." How dumb am i right. I mean, it wouldnt have been SO bad, if it werent for the look on the teachers face comprehending my outraged lack of simple knowledge. So, if you were wondering, YES, i was the first chemist sitting. Traumatic, yes i believe so. It practically made me wanna fall off a bridge in plasma, which is the fourth type of matter which is the largest maker-upper of the universe, rather than a liquid, which makes up the largest part of the earth. I suppose i learned something. HAH. yeah.
Introduction/Orange
*The entries from this point on will mostly be an accumulation of daily traumatic moments i can recall. *
Basically one of the first traumatic moments i recall daily is the orange story. It was first grade. Grade one. The first year of school beginning with a number. The grade after kindergarten. Yes, there i was sitting innocently at my desk in room one along with the other first graders. I am quiet, attentive, a diligent worker, but obviously being me, not always the most logical. We are taking a test. The palms begin to sweat. Lungs shrink. Heart beat increases. I am not a good tester. Not only am i a lonesome first grader engulfed in a room full of coloring shenanigans, i have no idea what this test is on. OH MY. A spelling test. The test is a spelling test. So basically the only reason a large majority of the words in this blog entry are spelled correctly is because of spell check. So ever since i was a youngster trying to make my way through the struggles of elementary school i could never spell well, and to this day still cannot. Anyways, i get the test. Turns out its not too bad. Its on colors. I easily spelled the first few colors, you know, red, blue, but then, my worst night mare. The word ORANGE, other wise known as the epitome of my demise. I cannot for the life of me spell this "oragne, orenge, oraneg" word right. No, its not happening. But then, this is where the stories takes a turn. I look around the room, for any ounce of help, guidence, anything! And there, on the closet door, a beautiful poster with a splash of color reading in bold letters atop it, ORANGE. I finished the test, with a sweaty outfit and a guilty look on my face. Feeling horrible, i happily received a great grade and from then on never forgot how to spell that oh so special word. So naive i corrupted myself and cheated on my first test. It hasn't affected me too much these days i would say, just enough to be thoroughly traumatic and very memorable, earning its spot as the first blog-able moment. yeah.
Basically one of the first traumatic moments i recall daily is the orange story. It was first grade. Grade one. The first year of school beginning with a number. The grade after kindergarten. Yes, there i was sitting innocently at my desk in room one along with the other first graders. I am quiet, attentive, a diligent worker, but obviously being me, not always the most logical. We are taking a test. The palms begin to sweat. Lungs shrink. Heart beat increases. I am not a good tester. Not only am i a lonesome first grader engulfed in a room full of coloring shenanigans, i have no idea what this test is on. OH MY. A spelling test. The test is a spelling test. So basically the only reason a large majority of the words in this blog entry are spelled correctly is because of spell check. So ever since i was a youngster trying to make my way through the struggles of elementary school i could never spell well, and to this day still cannot. Anyways, i get the test. Turns out its not too bad. Its on colors. I easily spelled the first few colors, you know, red, blue, but then, my worst night mare. The word ORANGE, other wise known as the epitome of my demise. I cannot for the life of me spell this "oragne, orenge, oraneg" word right. No, its not happening. But then, this is where the stories takes a turn. I look around the room, for any ounce of help, guidence, anything! And there, on the closet door, a beautiful poster with a splash of color reading in bold letters atop it, ORANGE. I finished the test, with a sweaty outfit and a guilty look on my face. Feeling horrible, i happily received a great grade and from then on never forgot how to spell that oh so special word. So naive i corrupted myself and cheated on my first test. It hasn't affected me too much these days i would say, just enough to be thoroughly traumatic and very memorable, earning its spot as the first blog-able moment. yeah.
Accumulating Traumatic Moments
Traumatic moments in my everyday life are classified as instances of awkwardness, my own stupidity, or both, interacting with the world around me. As a result of these interactions I, Colette, am left standing looking utterly dumb or feeling rather unintelligent. There are numerous types of traumas ranging from embarrassment, memories, and even to futile moments.
Now, this may be seeming like an unworthy blog-able topic. But for me, the amount of traumatic type moments i can recall at the end of the day is higher than average. You may be asking yourself, "is there even a tallied scientific average for classified traumatic moments?" To that i do not have an answer, except, whatever the average would be, i would place above.
Today, beginning in the bright an early morning of A block french class, I began a list on my favorite yellow notepad, titled, "Traumatic Moments and Significant Events." I quickly scratched down a good amount of memorable things from the most recent past, and beyond. I was sure to leave room at the bottom though, for the day to come was surely filled with moments waiting to happen. yeah.
Now, this may be seeming like an unworthy blog-able topic. But for me, the amount of traumatic type moments i can recall at the end of the day is higher than average. You may be asking yourself, "is there even a tallied scientific average for classified traumatic moments?" To that i do not have an answer, except, whatever the average would be, i would place above.
Today, beginning in the bright an early morning of A block french class, I began a list on my favorite yellow notepad, titled, "Traumatic Moments and Significant Events." I quickly scratched down a good amount of memorable things from the most recent past, and beyond. I was sure to leave room at the bottom though, for the day to come was surely filled with moments waiting to happen. yeah.
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