Reflection

I remember during the first week of junior year, we had our first timed writing assignment in AP Lang. I was paralyzed with terror. It took me a good fifteen minutes to begin writing the introduction and even then, I wasn't exactly sure what I was preparing to write the two-page essay on. During the course of the year, I have mostly gained confidence in writing essays, which has given my examples and proof more conviction than it ever did before. I still sometimes stumble when writing arguments because I'm an indecisive person at heart, but I have gotten close to mastering the art of masking my uncertainty in my writing. I hope to grow more confident and to improve my vocabulary in my essays as I continue writing.

Assignments that helped me improve the most were the ones that zeroed in on a particular part of an essay before looking at the essay as a whole. For example, the description, compare/contrast , and definition paragraph assignments walked us through a certain way of attacking a prompt. Even when assigned a larger work (such as the narrative essay or the research project), we were slowly led through the assignment to tackle and perfect one paragraph at a time. The most memorable assignments for me were the storybook project given to the entire class, the satire project, and the definition assignment. The storybook project was an enjoyable way to learn to work together. In other classes, the largest group for a group project consists of, at most, five people, so it was interesting to learn how to function without getting into disagreements (which would have been easy to do with thirty strongly opinionated students who had just been introduced to the art of rhetoric). I had a blast working on the satire project with my group. Besides dressing boys up in Rachael's clothes and makeup, I enjoyed researching our topic and writing the script. It is difficult to get a message across through the use of comedy or sarcasm, and this assignment definitely strengthened my writing when it comes to using humor to enhance an argument. The definition assignment was a creative way to sum up the class as a whole and to improve our writing. I remember having several drafts and editing sessions for this assignment, which helped me take out unnecessary ideas and redundant sentences. This assignment pushed me to look over my essays thoroughly after writing and helped me get to my point quicker by still using enough description.

Your class has been my favorite by far, Mrs. Smith. I look forward to walking into your wonderfully lit classroom every single day and not just for the free candy. If I had the opportunity to retake your class next year, I would accept without a doubt. I would hope to engage in more discussion about a novel as a class. I loved analyzing symbolism and the characters in The Great Gatsby every few chapters; it helped me understand the  novel much better than The Old Man and the Sea, for example, which we didn't get much of a chance to review before the test.

I love you, Mrs. Smith, and I hope that if I become a teacher, I am as extraordinary as you have been! 

Thank you for this year 

6. India

The last time I visited India, I was in seventh grade. I went for two and a half weeks and missed the factoring unit in math class. I still don't fully understand how to factor with coefficients other than one.
It has been four years now since I've gone and I'm finally visiting again this summer. I couldn't be more excited. I'm only going for a month, though, and India visits always need more than just a couple of weeks because there's just so much to do. The streets are always bustling with little markets and poor families selling broken toys and motorcycles, autos, and cycle-rickshaws and familiar faces. When in India, there should never be a boring moment. Unless, of course, you're a teenager from America, in which case, you can't leave the house without an adult (who all prefer staying home enjoying a cup of chai all day long, so you pretty much stay home watching television all day long, but only children shows play because older kids are at school during the day and oh, my goodness, it's so boring).
As an American, I have always felt inferior to the natives there because they felt I was superior. That doesn't make much sense, but that's exactly how I felt. Somehow, through my acquired Indian accent and traditional garb, people from India are able to immediately peg me as an American. (My dad says it's because we can buy things without glancing at the price tag first.) Shopkeepers and taxi drivers take this as an opportunity to cheat me for more money because they assume I don't understand the currency system enough to realize their game. I do, though, but I'm stuck paying more than I should still because I'm hopeless at bargaining or talking back to strangers. To keep me from blowing all my money on a bar of ice cream at a nearby market, I need to bring my grandma along and it makes me feel so childish and immature. I hope I've learned to stand up for myself, so I can go out on my own this summer. I want to be able to experience everything I can without leaning on parents or grandparents for confidence.

[Sidenote: I wish bargaining was allowed in America because much of the clothes in my closet are not worth the amount I payed. Also, why do shorts cost the same amount as pants? That's not at all logical.]

5. In a minute...

I feel underwhelmed.

Obviously, I'm doing something wrong because AP exams are coming up, I have just two weeks to secure A's in my classes, deadlines for summer volunteer opportunities are approaching, and despite all this, I'm spending my Saturday in bed (I have literally not left the bed all morning. It's 1:33PM as of now.) catching up with The Vampire Diaries. Workload in most of my classes is slowing down, but I know this is only because we are expected to be studying for exams outside of class.
Maybe I'll crack open that AP Biology Practice Book for one of the first times. Maybe I'll keep it open for a couple of hours until I fully understand and grasp the concepts I've read. Maybe I'll work on a couple of practice problems from Calc and shoot a roll of film for Photo. Maybe I'll start restudying for SATs and maybe I'll write a few practice essays. Maybe I'll memorize some vocabulary and maybe I'll put those words into my application for camp.
In 30 minutes, I swear. Just after I finish this episode.
And the next.
And the one after that.

A handful of my senior friends have been squealing about potential roommates and future dorms and new schedules. I feel like this should make me excited for the future and more motivated to push through to get to where they are, but really I just want to skip everything and get to college already.
Have you watched the movie Click? I want to embody Adam Sandler's character and fast forward 365 days and slow down for nothing. (even if this means becoming morbidly obese) (Is that what happened? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll watch Click after this episode. And then I'll study, I promise...)

4. Janna-tor

I love taking personality tests. Finding out more about myself without actually having to do any real introspection is marvelous.

The other day, I was working on my monthly update of the myPersonality profile I made on Facebook three or four years ago and I realized how untrue I was being when answering the questions. They were simple questions ("I do not like poetry. Very Accurate, Moderately Accurate, Neither Accurate nor Inaccurate, Moderately Inaccurate, or Very Inaccurate"), but for some reason, I would convince myself that I am indeed one of great sophistication and of a high enough class to spend a sunny day out on my porch reading poetry and sipping a glass of iced tea with my pinky out while adjusting the brim of my white sunhat. "I do not like poetry." Very Inaccurate.

I was planning on exploring the reasons behind my lies, but I actually cannot even figure out why I would decide I love poetry.

"I do things according to plan." I answered Very Accurate. I mean sure, I make to-do lists to set my mind straight, but I rarely complete them or even do what the list says. Before I come home from school, I plan to study until I know every bit of material that may or may not appear of an upcoming test, but in reality, I go home and fall asleep for three hours before waking up for the sole purpose of watching television.
Once, during a sixth grade trip to Disney World, we were required to follow a itinerary each day, but every single day, I would sneak away from the group of obnoxious youths of uniformed bright orange shirts to follow the plan of not following the plan I had in mind. I was always caught, though, because, well, my shirt was bright orange.
I even dream of purposefully following my schedule backwards during school just to see how different my day would be.
Unless planning to not live according to a plan is living according to a plan, my answer should have been "Very Inaccurate."
Maybe "Moderately Inaccurate" because I used to be a Girl Scout. Always be prepared.

I took an aptitude test recently and one of the top career choices for me was being a janitor.
I hope I skewed reality when answering those questions.

3. My baby, Tillandsia caput-medusae

I decided against studying for finals and instead watched old Molly Ringwald movies. They were quite underwhelming. But I did enjoy the Chinese man living with Samantha Baker in Sixteen Candles.
I almost want my parents to once forget my birthday, so I have something to hold over their heads. No car? But Dad... Monday April 22, 2013...
Parenting seems so difficult. Imagine actually forgetting your son's or daughter's birthday; I would have absolutely no idea how to make up for that. There's a blog I recently discovered called dearscarlet. It's a parent's documentation of her daughter's upbringing and it's so touching. There are a lot of things about children and parenting that I'm not excited about (mainly the giving birth part and the 7- to 14-year-old time period), but watching my child grow up will be so glorious and rewarding and ahhhhh!
This one's my favorite post. Oh, my goodness. Love came from her mother. DEAR LORD, I'M GOING TO TEACH MY CHILD TO LOVE.
What if my kid ended up being unsuccessful, though? I don't doubt that I would still love the child to death, but I'm so pathetic when it comes to comforting and inspiring. What if I can't guide my child in the right direction? oh no oh no oh no how is it done oh no
I just hope I'm approachable enough for my son or daughter to be comfortable with, so even if I can't offer any constructive advice, I can at least listen to my child's problems if I am given the chance to. If nothing else, I'd like to be some sort of diary for my kid. Feel free to recite terribly constructed love poems to me because I'll never respond or judge you (maybe).



By Scarlet on April 22, 2012


My mom went to Pike's Nursery yesterday and bought me a plant that doesn't need soil, direct sunlight, or daily watering.
(Also Daniel Yoon thought Pike's Nursery was a nursing home for the elderly.)
She obviously does not trust me with a normal plant, but at least she knows how much I can handle. What if she bought me a plant that costs more than just three dollars and required everything my plant doesn't require? What if the stress of keeping the plant alive crushed me? Oh, nooo. What if I trusted my daughter with a tiger as a pet and it kills her by accident. Oh, no.
Okay, this plant only needs to be watered twice a week, but I got a hippo watering can for my birthday and I really want to put it to use. I'm just going to drown this plant. I'm glad my mother is aware of the dearth of knowledge I have on growing plants, so she won't be too disappointed when my plant dies within a week.

2. Interrupted

A few days ago, a family of three arrived at my front door while just a short while before, I was in the midst of an impromptu nap, pantsless, and unaware of their impending three-day visit.
Imagine my surprise (or theirs, I suppose) when I opened the door in almost exactly that state (I made the stellar decision to put on pants) while the three balls of brown rolled through the threshold, too enthusiastic about seeing someone who barely recognized their faces and just less than a minute ago, was pantsless.
These past three days have been unbearable. Aside from an underwhelming birthday (a rant which I will save for another procrastinated blog post) and the less-than-absolutely-necessary hours I put into studying for a three-hour AP Biology practice exam, a family had invaded the privacy that is my life after school.
On a normal day, I come home from school, change immediately into a pair of XXL Eeyore fleece pants and the 2004 SBCE t-shirt, turn on the television to watch whatever show I had missed the night before, and scramble for a plate for the scarce amount of ready-made  food I have in my pantry before literally flopping down in front of the television until I fall asleep with an empty plate for a pillow.
Imagine a girl who has done this for all 16 17 years of her living and suddenly, with no warning, this life of luxury is snatched away from her and flattened under the unnecessarily large suitcases parked in the middle of her living room.
Like just now, I crawled out of my cave to get a cookie, but instead of it being a quick sprint up and down the stairs, I was forced to offer my quickly declining number of cookies to the couple canoodling on my couch (the couch I spent so many hours napping, enjoying cold pizza on) (my couch) (Also why are they canoodling? Stop this nonsense. You're both middle-aged Indians whose parents arranged this life together for you and I'm sure they wouldn't want you canoodling on a stranger's couch.) and I was pushed into ten minutes of awkward exchanges of words that I could have spent on this blog post. Don't get me wrong. You can canoodle on my couch with your significant other if you want to, but don't take my cookies and make me talk to you if you do because obviously that makes me angry in all the weirdest ways.
Also I can't sing too loudly in the shower. I have to whisper. (It's really not as effective.)
Also I have been stripped of the right I have to talk to my cat in the peace of my own room.
Also they bought me cake.
I don't thoroughly enjoy cake.
I had to eat it anyway and I only enjoyed it a little bit.

1. Happy

I dread growing older.

As a child, I was rather carefree (as a kid should be, I suppose, but I was even more carefree).
So many times I've heard, a child's dream job never actually changes. I had always wanted to be a teacher or a painter or a painting teacher when I was younger, and I feel that because I was never forced into adult situations, my dream remained unaltered to this day. I think my parents are not okay with this, but they know not to take a baby's toy away while she's enjoying playing with it.
I know I'm blessed, though, because an unlucky girl would have this unreasonable dream snatched away from her - especially one with parents from a country that houses only students aspiring to be engineers, doctors, any diploma that will have you pinned as a genius with the rewards of shelter, food, successful children. I know my dad is worried for my future after achieving my goal. A teacher's salary isn't a high one and artists rarely are successful in selling works (other than the pity-purchases from friends). How can I afford to pay rent, put healthy food inside me, possibly support a family, and be happy with myself and what I'm doing day after day? In all honesty, I don't think I need piles of hundred dollar bills to stay happy. I could spend hours picking out a wardrobe from a thrift store and be absolutely thrilled with my purchase (just two dollars! Thrift store prices deserve a two-syllable dayyyyyyum). I could eat $0.79 Cup Ramens for weeks without pause. Even now, I crave living in a small, cozy ranch home. I don't need money; I need happiness. I would be delighted with that life as long as I had seven hours a day dedicated to 20 obnoxious monsters, all of whom I would eventually grow to adore and care for. (And even if I didn't exactly fall in love with every single one of the twenty kids, who cares? I can use the big words I learned in AP Lang to insult the hooligans without them even understanding me.)
I think my parents are waiting for me to slowly grow bored with my toy and move on to a better one, but this toy isn't all that bad, I promise. I'll make it worth it.

Huck Finn Reflection

When the class was first assigned this book, I was excited to finally be able to  relate to the dozens of allusions made to the novel in television shows - like in Glee, when the love triangle between Rachel Berry, Puck, and Finn was coined "Puckleberry Finn." As I started reading the book, though, (out loud, in a surprisingly terrible Southern accent) I stopped relating the story to the copious number of TV shows I am emotionally invested in, and started developing connections and sympathy towards the characters in the novel.
The character I admired most was Jim. Throughout the novel, his intentions were questioned by those around him, his actions were restricted by racism, and his loved ones repeatedly took advantage of him. But during all his highs and lows, Jim managed to stay optimistic and appreciative towards every near-death experience. I also found it surprising that even with society pushing everyone to believe one thing in a certain way, Jim was able to have faith in his own beliefs and morals. His ability to refute Huck's opinions and stay true to his superstitious mindset was inspiring.
I appreciated the wild escapades Huck pulled me through. His uncanny ability to morph into a new personality so often was flabbergasting (I was more envious than amazed, though, due to my complete lack of the ability to lie). I was impressed that he, too, was able to stick to his morals, or rather change the morals he was taught to have to fit his. I adored numerous times when Huck covered for Jim's running away and showed affection towards the slave, but my hooray feelings of love were always taken back with the instances of Huck's ignorance.
Mark Twain's relentless use of humor and adventure to convey his feelings towards racism made this book enjoyable - which is surprising, given it was a class assignment. His is one of the few novels I would be able to reread numerous times in the future.

TED Talks - Keith Barry Does Brain Magic

I have a strange obsession with all things magical, and by that I am not referring to a Harry Potter kind of mystical, but rather the magic show kind. I always thought it made me seem childish, but Keith Barry's presentation on deceiving the mind using just concentration was raw enough to draw even my pessimistic, realist father in. He watched it twice.
Keith Barry spent 20 minutes proving to his audience the infinite power of the mind.  Before beginning his show, Keith presented a gripping clip in which he drove through a foreign path, blindfolded and lead through the mind of a girl in the passenger seat. Yes, her mind. "Surely, it's rigged." That's what the audience thought. That's what my dad told me incessantly throughout the showing ("Technology these days... We are able to trick anyone."). It's not what I thought though because I'm gullible and easily fascinated. But to confirm his sorcery to his less amused watchers, Keith performed the magic on randomly chosen members of his audience. The participants were brought to the stage (which was void of a scantily-clad assistant or ostentatious decorations, making it more realistic), and their arm movements were controlled entirely by Keith's mind. To further prove his method, the participants were instructed to try the wizardry on each other without his help. At this point, it was difficult to leave the tab or even pull my eyes away from the video. My dad, though, was almost audibly rolling his eyes.
If all else fails, a leader finds loyalty in fear. Four cups covered small, wooden stands- one with a cuspidate stick on it. Keith Barry called on a new volunteer to guess at a cup to crush down, and maybe into, his palm. By implementing the potential consequence of pain if the volunteer guessed incorrectly, the magician proved that the mind is capable of doing almost all on its own. My father's distressed gasps after every guess ensured Keith's successful show.
Keith remained serious throughout a majority of his presentation to strengthen his logos. His solemnity allowed his show to steer away from being a potential video to entertain a kindergarten class with. The apprehension expressed in his volunteers posed as some comedic relief to show pathos. Barry's soothing tone used towards the anxious participants had butterflies infesting my tummy during every presentation. Keith Barry successfully and realistically proved to me that we live in a magical world!

I suppose Barry's argument is better shown than told: http://www.ted.com/talks/keith_barry_does_brain_magic.html