Friday, June 14, 2013

Celebrating Abraham Lincoln

YAY ABE LINCOLN! Man, I love that guy. And so... here is an essay I recently wrote about Mr. Lincoln (concerning my analysis of Lincoln's portrayal in Steven Spielberg's movie, Lincoln).


On Why Lincoln is, Like, the Best President, Like, Ever

            For 150 years at least, maybe even more, the question “Who is the best American president?” has been answered with, “That Lincoln dude… he, like, got rid of slavery and stuff,” more often than it is met with “OH-BA-MA!” And while I wish not to necessarily debate the greatness of this undeniably powerful, yet gentle and almost fatherly figure plucked from the depths of history and selected for scrutiny by the masses, I do wish to answer that persistent question: What makes Lincoln so, like, great and stuff?
            When looking at Lincoln from the outside, we are presented with several options and, similarly, several conundrums. The question becomes, “Who was the real Lincoln?” The confusion is understandable, as history presents us with several views of Lincoln’s life, all of them complex and many conflicting. We have the Lincoln of the Lincoln Memorial- the Supreme Overlord of the Penny- and the lesser-known, more often over-looked, Honest Abe- stripped of title, power, and status. Well, as with any quest for truth, the best place to start is at the beginning, and Lincoln’s roots, especially his situation at the beginning of his first term as president, show much about his life and the great accomplishments that were to be achieved over a period of four short years. And while Lincoln’s presidency was a time of war and bloody turmoil between brothers, friends, and countrymen, there is a reason the beauty of his service, and, more importantly, the way he served, has not been over-looked.
            First, it must be considered that the stresses placed upon Lincoln alone, the private and personal grievances as well as the blood of hundreds of thousands of soldiers, were his, and his alone, to bear. Lincoln had the blood of a nation on his hands, and he had the brunt of responsibility for cleansing and removing that stain. Granted, Lincoln had a family, a wife, an entire cabinet of advisers to presumably share this burden, and yet, in most cases these individuals only added weight to the load. Under such tremendous stress, while enduring almost incomprehensible pain and guilt, Lincoln still managed to smile and to do his best to lighten the burden of those around him. The cinematic tribute to his work and career, Lincoln, takes care to present this side of Lincoln’s character. Most memorably, as word of the bloody battle at Wilmington is being delivered via telegraph and Secretary of War Edwin Stanton is heatedly ranting at the telegraph operators, Lincoln butts in calmly with a humorous story about Ethan Allen. An interruption which, at the time, might have seemed poorly timed and unnecessary ended up providing a calculated relief of tension for all involved. In this way Lincoln quietly, nobly, bore the burden of thousands, yet took the time to make a telegraph officer’s day better.
            Much more can be said about Abraham Lincoln: family man, philosopher, walking stress ball. Although, it is important to note that Lincoln was not perfect, which makes his character an even more intriguing subject of scrutiny. Lincoln quarrels almost constantly with his wife, Mary Todd, whose own character flaws are inherent, yet likewise inherently justified following the death of one son in the White House and the feared death of another, Robert, who begs to join the Union Army. Robert and Lincoln, too, argue about Robert’s desire to offer himself up as a sacrifice for the Union’s cause; at one point Robert’s accusation that Lincoln doesn’t really care about Robert’s life, but is merely afraid of Mary Todd’s reaction to his joining the army, results in a hasty slap from his father. Although Lincoln immediately shows remorse and tries to hug Robert, the damage is done, and we see through his impenetrable calm to the turmoil that is there, just below the surface, intensified by this new conflict between desire to preserve his son and desire to preserve the Union. While this may be enough to incriminate him in the eyes of some, as the President himself said, “We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” Lincoln, it seems, was a bush whose roses far outnumbered its thorns.
            The Lincoln more often scrutinized by historians, the immortalized and all-powerful, God-like man who sits nobly upon his throne at the Lincoln Memorial, is the Lincoln who led the nation to victory in the Civil War, who worked to abolish slavery, and who did his best to ensure that, following the War, the Union could return as best as possible to its former glory without excessive retribution or bad blood. This Lincoln was a political mastermind who used his powers effectively and calculatedly, not excessively. He was a master of argument whose strategy of using parables and stories to relate his point of view made the listener discover for themselves what Lincoln wanted them to believe, as though it were their own idea and not a viewpoint suggested to them. Lincoln was a man of magnanimity whose moral compass always pointed him toward True North, yet whose foresight and intelligence enabled him to take the most efficient, practical route to his final destination. Through determination, selflessness, practicality, and gentleness, Lincoln was able to accomplish his goals and teach valuable lessons to his companions on the way.
            So, while historically the battle between Honest Abe: saint, patriot, and family man and Abraham Lincoln: Moral Crusader and Supreme Overlord of the Lincoln Memorial rages on, the most important aspects of Lincoln’s character have been carefully laid out by Steven Spielburg for all the world to see in the final minutes of Lincoln. Lincoln was, more than a man who sought to restore goodness to the war-torn Union he presided over, a man who admired the goodness he saw already in the world and only sought to perpetuate it. Near the close of the film, after a visit to the ravaged, post-war Virginia countryside, Mary Todd asks Lincoln what he would like to do now that he has accomplished this mission of, in effect, salvaging the civilized world from utter destruction. Lincoln answers not with wishes of celebration, of grand parties, of countless hordes swarming the White House, screaming his name in adoration, but expresses the desire to visit Jerusalem, where “David and Solomon walked.” I think it is this, small and simple as it may seem, that pinpoints the true nature of Lincoln’s goodness. He admired not grand, worldly men, but men who, although they were kings “clothed in immense power,” ruled with clear heads and profound wisdom. It is this, the knowledge that Lincoln selected such men as his heroes that, more than anything, answers the persistent question of why Lincoln was, like, the greatest president ever. 

TEAM LINCOLN --- Not just cuz he abolished slavery, but because he, like, rocked. And stuff. 

P.S. Happy Friday!

Friday, April 26, 2013

THE Essay

Well, because this essay is similar to many of the rantings previously seen on Life With Lis  and because Gram has been so dedicated in motivating me to get it done, I give you:


The Myth of the “Caucasian”: When the Stereotype-er Becomes the Stereotype-ee
by Alyssa Roberts

Any required school questionnaires or doctor’s office forms given to me are met with excitement on my part. Call me a nerd, but I would credit twelve years in the public school system with the un-called for excitement that usually results from being handed any form of an “easy” worksheet. Despite this initial giddiness, however, there is one section of these forms that I just cannot figure out, as this section asks for a description of one’s race, usually accompanied by several options and boxes to be checked. Attempts at political correctness, or at least not offending as many people as possible while asking at what point in history their grandparents were discriminated against, make this section comical, to say the least. Options include African American/Black, Asian American, American Indian/Native American, and, my personal favorite, White/Caucasian. I know I will not be the first of my race to ask, thoughtfully, if not a bit disturbed at the fact that I don’t understand a term apparently concerning my own heritage, “What the heck is ‘Caucasian’?”

Well, my fellow white citizens of the world, I am here to tell you that I have finally discovered the answer. Put simply, to be Caucasian means to be a member of no race or ethnic group. That’s right, go ahead and pick up whatever object you just dropped in shock and despair- iPhone, coffee mug, laptop, whatever it may be- and allow me to explain. According to the great and powerful English dictionary, to be Caucasian means to be a member or descendent of “one of the traditional divisions of humankind” hailing from Europe, western Asia, and parts of India and North Africa. In effect, a Caucasian is thence a member of almost any race and ethnicity covered in such a broad scope of terrain. Essentially, Caucasians cannot be a member of one, so must be a partial member of all ethnicities, and therefore are members of none. Despite the obvious attempts of doctor’s offices and marketing companies to include whites in the sense of ethnic pride and unity shared by most groups, the title of Caucasian only serves to confuse and further divide whites into their own form of ethnic nonexistence, thereby forcing them to remain one homogeneous, culture-less culture, unless you count the culture of the racist bigot, which, these days, most people seem not to count.

            Some would say that it is our fault, an opinion I can agree with to a certain extent. Were my forefathers slave-owning plantation managers in Virginia until the 1860’s? No. My forefathers hail from Sweden, and, as the story goes, immigrated to America on a whim one day with nothing more than the equivalent of ten cents in their combined pockets. So, I submit that they were not at any point in time slave owners. Why, then, am I blamed for the crime of the white race? It seems that the tables have finally turned. Our social system has finally come full-circle, to the point where whites, always the veritable “top dog” of society, the controlling majority, have become the minority. Believe me you, I have no illusions about the true state of economic affairs, but from a purely social perspective, it is worth noting that the position of whites in society has changed, and changed considerably, along with the changing definition of racism.

            Traditional racism is nothing like the tentative, somewhat mocking understanding of other cultures that we see in society today. The story of traditional racism is well known and, admittedly, still a problem for many. Of course, I do not deny the crimes of organizations like the KKK or refute the nobility of the struggle of the American Civil Rights Movement. I rejoice in the changing system of racism today, but likewise feel the need to explain it more thoroughly. Currently, racism does not mean discrimination or prejudice against another race or ethnic group. Yes, that is what the dictionary says, and that is what history says, but no more. Today racism is a term casually flung back and forth between friends at any mention of a person’s ethnicity having a negative or positive connotation. For example:
Student A: “I got an A on my trig final!”
Student B: “That’s because you’re Asian.”
Student C: (to Student B): “That’s racist!”

            Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this changing definition, at least for me, as a humble Caucasian, is that whites, to an extent, are not allowed to take part in it. Not that I have any desire to be considered a racist, or even a fake racist, by my peers (who, despite the extensive coverage of the American Civil Rights movement in every history-related class they have ever taken since the beginning of our education, seem not to realize what a true racist is), but it would be nice to not be accused of racism any time one mentions anything about race or ethnicity ever. One day, while struggling to pay attention during Pre-Calculus, I was confronted by two (rather obnoxious) students who sit behind me. Unfortunately, I am unable to recall how the conversation began, but it ended with an exchange that has left me thoroughly perplexed.
Black student: (to Irish student) Oh, you’re Irish? What, so you guys eat a lot of potatoes or something?”
Irish student: “Yeah just like all you’ve got to eat is cotton.”
Bystanders: “OHHHHHHH!”
                    “Racist! That is so racist!”
                     “What the %@** is wrong with you, you *@%%#?”
Et cetera, Et cetera. While acknowledging that both comments are pretty messed up, one aspect of this conversation is perhaps more convoluted than what was actually said, and this is that only the Irish student is being called racist. Assuming that the Irish student, by their mention of cotton, was referring to the centuries of slavery suffered by (some, but not all) black citizens of the U.S., it is easy to see why the reaction was so pronounced. However, the Irish student, whose heritage, as it happens, is only known because this individual makes a point of mentioning it wherever possible, unlike most “Caucasians,” is likewise mocked concerning the Potato Famine, a time of serious horror and strife resulting in the deaths of millions of this individual’s ancestral countrymen. Yet, only the Irish student is accused of mocking the black student’s race.

            This example, and, believe me you, the many others I have encountered during my career as a public school student, is characteristic of the new definition of racism. The societal implications of this phenomenon, because of its newness, are yet unknown, but can be seen in their developmental stages. In a setting where any mention of ethnic heritage is considered racism, especially those mentions by a white (excuse me, Caucasian) person, racism may simply become an insult, a way of mocking one’s peers similar to “stupidhead” and other terms not worthy of mention in an academic article. The outcome I see, from the historically-endorsed “Caucasian” perspective, is that members of my ethnicity will become even more entrenched in the ever-present stereotype of the racist bigot that is truly our heritage. Leave it to the cynicism of modern society to rule out any other significant achievements and never let go the mistakes of a non-representative minority throughout the years.

            This stereotype, founded or un-founded, is the only heritage I am allowed, the only culture I can belong to. I, along with my “white brothers” am forced to remain homogeneous in society that is consistently moving toward the apex of heterogeneity. If I were Black, I might be allowed some pride in my heritage. If I were Asian, I might be allowed to make the distinction between “Caucasian” and English-Swedish. As it is, such a distinction is nowhere near as interesting as Filipino-Chinese, because the Americans didn’t attack the Swedish in their homeland and use it as a military base during any of the world wars. C’este la vie. As it is, I have thoroughly expended the socially acceptable time limit of discussions of race and must therefore retreat to my corner of the racial spectrum, forever to be stereotyped as the stereotype-er, forever a figurative enemy to the stereotype-ee.  

(c) Alyssa Roberts, 2013. Please do not plagiarize. Thanks. 

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

All-Time Low

For those of you who don't know, I volunteer at the library every Wednesday for a few hours. I actually quite enjoy this and look forward to it most weeks, especially the fact that it provides community service hours for the clubs I participate in. However, apparently my true nature has come out in the past few weeks, as I have completely forgotten to show up twice in the last month. So I am posting this apology letter I typed to my supervisor as a reference for future mistakes.

Dear Ginger,

 Imagine my horror to wake up from a relaxing, post-finals nap to realize that it's 3:45 and I was supposed to be at the library an hour and a half ago. I don't know if you've ever seen M. Night Shyamalan's Signs,but if you have you will understand what I mean when I say it was proportional to the moment when the alien steps out of the bush on that newscast from Brazil. So, if charming analogies are the sort of thing that might make you believe in a person, then I hope that was a good one for you. In all seriousness, I never even thought of going to the library. I had just this ongoing mental To-Do list that I've been adding to and subtracting from all week and I was honestly more focused on "Study for Physics midterm" than any other item on the list, except, of course, "Fall into an exhausted sleep-coma for approximately two and a half hours." Well, we can check that one off the list, apparently. I really am sorry. I don't want you to think of me as unreliable or flaky, even though I've given you every reason to believe that that is the case. I wish I could remember the term for the psychological phenomenon that is spontaneously forgetting an important item on your mental calendar, but I've already taken my psychology final this week and I'd rather not re-visit that experience, if you know what I mean. Anyways, I hope you can have a little faith in me when I say that I will be there next week and I will take the world of library volunteers by storm with my dedication and devotion to the art of shelving uncatalogued items. Please forgive me! 

Sincerely,
Alyssa Roberts

P.S. If you haven't seen Signs, you could also think of the moment when Mr. Collins proposes to Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice. Or when Harry Potter realizes that the reason he can speak Parseltongue and see into Voldemort's mind is that he actually has a piece of Voldemort's soul in him. Just a thought. 


So that's that. I hope you all find my misery as entertaining as I hope Ginger does. 

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Kind of Autocorrected

Today I was typing an e-mail and google tried to correct "kind of" with "kinda." Never. in. my. life would I have predicted that one. Seriously, google, y'all better get your act together. It's downright shameful.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

The End to the Marathon

Okay, I've decided not to put you all through eight posts of Miyazaki movie reviews. Instead, i've combined them all into one! You can thank me later... Also, I organized them in the order that I like them. So there.

1. Howl's Moving Castle (2004)


  I LOVE this movie!!! By far my favorite Miyazaki. The story is lovely; it's like a fairy tale but it has enough action and adventure to keep Abby interested, too. I'd recommend for older kids, 8+.
Rated: PG
IMDb Rating: 8.1/10
My Rating: 9/10
Abby's Rating: 7/10... (She loves this movie; that one totally surprised me)

Summary, courtesy of IMDb: When an unconfident young woman is cursed with an old body by a spiteful witch, her only chance of breaking the spell lies with a self-indulgent yet insecure young wizard and his companions in his legged, walking home.




2. Spirited Away (2001)
The one that started it all... this movie, plot-wise, is probably the best of Miyazaki's movies in that it is the most satisfying and engaging. I crave this movie like I crave... well, not chocolate, but apple pie or something. Translation: seasonally, and completely randomly. Sydnee and Sophie liked this one, although I think the parents-to-pigs part traumatized them just a teeny bit. Recommended for 8+
Rated: PG
IMDb Rating: 8.6/10
My Rating: 9.8/10
Abby's Rating:
IMDb Summary: In the middle of her family's move to the suburbs, a sullen 10-year-old girl wanders into a world ruled by gods, witches, and monsters; where humans are changed into animals; and a bathhouse for these creatures.
Fun Fact: The girl who voices Chihiro, Daveigh Chase, is also the voice of Lilo from Lilo and Stitch AND she plays the creepy girl in The Ring. (ahhh!) Craziness!

3. Castle in the Sky (1986)



This is also a great sampling of Miyazaki's work. It's a bit more adventurous than the last two, and the characters are so loveable! It's a great family movie. Ages 6+
IMDb Rating: 8.1/10
My Rating: 7.5/10
Abby's Rating: 5/10

IMDb Summary: A young boy and a girl with a magic crystal must race against pirates and foreign agents in a search for a legendary floating castle.






4: My Neighbor Totoro (1988)
This was one of the movies I was most excited about, since it is probably the most iconic Miyazaki movie of them all. I was not at all disappointed with it, although compared with the others it seems really short. But that makes it better for kids! It lost Sophie's attention halfway through, but Sydnee loved it. I still hear them singing the theme music fro, time to time. Ages 4+
Rated: G
IMDb Rating: 8.2/10
My Rating: 7.5/10
Abby's Rating: She doesn't get to rate it because she just sat and played her iPod the whole time- more rant on that little habit pending. 

IMDb Summary: When two girls move to the country to be near their ailing mother, they have adventures with the wonderous forest spirits who live nearby.



5. Kiki's Delivery Service (1989)
  

I have wanted to see this movie since I was probably 6 years old and it was on the preview for some Disney show I watched all the time. I was a bit disappointed, unfortunately, although it's still a great movie, especially for kids. Sydnee loved it. My only problem with it was that the plot just kind of dragged in the middle and I wasn't a huge fan of Kiki as a character. Maybe it's just that Kirsten Dunst's voice is uber-annoying to me. Anyway, I'd recommend for 6+
Rated: G
IMDb Rating: 7.8/10
My Rating: 5/10
Abby's Rating: 6.5/10

IMDb Summary: A young witch, on her mandatory year of independent life, finds fitting into a new community difficult while she supports herself by running an air courier service.



6. Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984)

Oh, Nausicaa... it was just so... outdated, especially the soundtrack. Christian, Abby, and I laughed at several points because the music was just so strange. I can see the idea behind it, and it's sort of the same message as Princess Mononoke- Respect Your Mother (Earth).  The delivery was just not that great on this one, at least for me.
Ages 8+
Rated: PG
IMDb Rating: 8.1/10 (CANNOT believe it got the same as Howl and  Castle in the Sky. Not even close.)
My Rating: 3/10
Abby's Rating: 5.5/10

IMDb Summary: Warrior/pacifist Princess Nausicaä desperately struggles to prevent two warring nations from destroying themselves and their dying planet.


All right, and that's all she wrote, folks! I'm sorry to put you through that; in hindsight it's kind of a boring topic, but at least I followed through! Anyways, back to Abby's new iPod habit and how much it bothers me: IT BOTHERS ME A LOT (oh yeah, bustin' out the caps lock). But seriously, she can't just watch movies like a regular person now, she has to sit there with her headphones in (low enough that she can still hear the movie) and watch YouTube clips and movie previews on IMDb (her new favorite hobby) the whole time. WHO does that? If you're watching a movie, watch a freaking movie! It's not as if movies aren't entertaining! This is exactly the kind of thing that makes me fear for the future of my generation. Honestly, it we can't even bring ourselves to pay attention to something that is meant to give us entertainment, what hope do we have of paying attention to anything else, ever? None! We have NO HOPE! Down with the iPod, down with Apple! Anarchy! Revolt! Rebellion! Rage! We CAN be entertained by movies, we can! Dear Parents: Please don't ever let your kids do this! It's a matter of life and death!


OKAY, on that note, have a great day! I hope you get something out of this post. 
Love, Lis

Saturday, August 11, 2012

MMM Day 1: Princess Mononoke

So, the first Miyazaki movie I managed to get my hands on this summer was Princess Mononoke.




Released: 1997                                                                

Rating: PG-13 (the first animated movie I've ever seen with this rating)


IMDb Rating: 8.4/10

Summary (taken from IMDb): On a journey to find a cure for a demon's curse, Ashitaka finds himself in the middle of a war between the forest gods and Iron Town, a mining colony. In this quest he also meets San, the Princess Mononoke.
(Mononoke, in the Japanese language, is a general term for spirit or monster)



Memorable Quotes:


Lady Eboshi: What exactly are you here for?          

Ashitaka: To see with eyes unclouded by hate.

Hii-sama: You cannot change fate. However, you can rise to meet it, if you so choose.


Lady Eboshi: Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still you find reasons to keep living.


Toki: Even if you were a woman, you'd still be an idiot! 


My Review:
I really liked this movie, although it was less light-hearted than many of Miyazaki's others. The overall message was great and the plot was sensible and easy to follow. Besides that, I love the bits of wisdom that can be found, such as the few examples given above, in all of Miyazaki's work. Princess Mononoke is definitely an intense and epic tale. I would say this movie is probably not the best for children- there was a surprising amount of blood and fighting (I guess that would explain the PG-13) and some cursing. I think its more of the subject matter that makes this necessary. I mean, a war between gods and humans can't be depicted without fighting. But anyways,  next time you''re faced with a choice between Pirates of the Caribbean or the seventh Harry Potter movie for the umpteenth time, I would definitely choose this instead. It's a fantastic experience: the animation is beautiful, the characters are believable (and lovable), and the message, that nature is beautiful but not to be trifled with, is wonderful in and of itself.

My Rating: 7/10

Abby's Rating: 7/10

Abby Says: "It was good."


So there you have it. 

Friday, August 10, 2012

The Miyazaki Movie Marathon and My Un-Dying Love for Hayao Miyazaki

Hi, everyone! It's been almost a year since I last posted! (Okay, now that I've acknowledged that, we can move on).

So I don't really have much that's interesting to write about besides this: The Miyazaki Movie Marathon!! Get excited!
Speaking of excitement, I have to give a shout-out to my Uncle Brady, whose blog, thesongsstuckinmyhead.blogspot.com, has inspired me to write today and also because he was the first person to introduce me to Hayao Miyazaki!

For those of you who don't know, Miyazaki-san (that's right, I went there) is a brilliant writer and director of animated films, the most famous of which include Spirited Away and Ponyo. I've always loved Spirited Away (I use the term love very loosely- what I feel for this movie is more like absolute, unconditional, complete adoration to the point that I practically worship it if it weren't for the fact that it's a commandment to not worship false idols), but I wanted to explore more of the Miyazaki World.

Let me fill you in on a bit of back-story about summer and me: every summer (without fail) I get the urge to do three things:
1. Read the last two books of The Little House series (not The First Four Years. That one doesn't count.)
2. Read the entire Harry Potter series
3. Watch Spirited Away.
And the one thing I've done without fail every summer is watch Spirited Away.

BUT NOT THIS SUMMER.
No, this summer had to be extra-special because I saw this thing one day when I was mindlessly Pinteresting. (Heck yes, Pinteresting is both a verb and a proper noun).
And I took it not as a picture, but as a challenge.
And at that moment, I knew: I would watch all these movies.
And I would make Abby watch them with me.
And I would call it The Miyazaki Movie Marathon.

I don't know what it is about Miyazaki movies, but they are just SO great. Whenever I watch them, I feel moved, immediately attached to the characters, and somehow... nostalgic. For childhood, I guess. And innocence. But the best part about his movies, to me, is that they all have the same message: that anything is possible, that love is more powerful than anything, and that to dream is to live.

I invite you all to join me on my epic quest to complete the ultimate tribute to Miyazaki. Just pick a movie, any movie. Watch it with your friends, your kids, your cat, yourself, whatever. It'll make your day (and maybe your life) better, guaranteed.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Do you ever feel like your life is a movie- but someone else is writing the script?

Friday, October 7, 2011

The Arm-Hair Complex

That's right! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls I would like to introduce to you the new standard of social acceptability regarding armhair! Can you believe that that sentence is actually allowed to exist? I can, because I spend all day in high school.
So, here's how it goes: Girls are not allowed to have arm hair. If they do, they are either a) gross, b) uncool, or c) the type of girl who attends the Girls' for Green convention and doesn't ever wear a bra.
You get the picture.
Now I would like to present you with the root of the problem (haha, "root"): I have armhair. Not just any armhair. Gorilla hair. Picture gorilla arms with light brown hair on them and you get the picture.
And it is most definitely not a pretty picture, I might add.
So, I am faced with a dilemma that most societally oppressed people have faced at one point or another: to shave, or not to shave? That is the question.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

New Layout!

Isn't it the cutest? Every time I go online now I have to stop here and just look...
Thanks to The cutest Blog on the Block! Y'all should check it out...


Saturday, October 1, 2011

Friends: The Word That Epitomizes Why I Hate Being a Teenager

My sixteenth birthday party was this weekend.
I think you can judge by the title of this post exactly how it went.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Crazy Pants

I love the way the phrase "crazy pants" implies that only the pants are crazy. Not the person in them. It's like I can take off my crazy pants and become some semblance of normal. Only when I choose to put them back on do they work their magic.

You can just ignore this. I had this thought, frustratingly enough, on the way downstairs from the notebook full of crap I'd just written down. I didn't feel like going back up, so I wrote it down in the first place I could think of.

Enjoy your Sunday.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Ho Hum

So, I'm writing this more for the sake of posting than for actually having something to post. It really does take a lot of work to come up with a post that I think will be entertaining, and then to get in just the right mood to make it good. (Insert definition of good here.) So, I'm just posting what's on my mind and deciding not to care if anyone cares or not.
I think there's a post on here somewhere about how summer never lives up to the hype. I still agree with that post. For me, summer is a) wondering if any of your friends even care if you still exist, b) wondering if your friends still exist to wonder if you still exist, and, c) whether or not they're ever going to call you and ask if you would like to confirm both of your mutual existence by doing something together. So, it's either that, or doing nothing all day but reading/cleaning. And spending all your time with the nagging realization that all of the "wasted" time you spend reading/cleaning could be spent writing the essay that you know will end up being written at the last possible moment regardless of the three months you've had to suck it up and gitterdun.
Did you know that it's impossible to get anything done with perpetually chocolate milk-strawberry-goldfish-wanting kids interrupting you every minute- and- a- half and singing the Veggie Tales theme song in the background? You probably did.
I saw the Avett Brothers again last night. They were 10 times better than the first show, minus the meeting them part. I get such a feeling of... nostalgia, I guess (oddly enough) when I think about them. What right do a couple of guys from North Carolina have to go poking around in my head and messing with all my thoughts? What right do they have to be the origin of those thoughts? I hate that. I love that.
Did you know that my fourth-year hike for Girl's Camp is on Monday? Despite my notorious (or is it?) hatred for hiking, I'm actually excited. I get to spend a week in the wilderness with one of the coolest people I know as my tent partner! I actually have friends in my stake! Do I sound pathetic or what? (Please don't answer that.)
Did you know that I made the Color Guard? Did you know that I've missed every 4-hour practice they've had so far? And that, thanks to beloved Girl's Camp, I'm missing a week of the band camp that was supposed to help me get back on track? It's enough to make a person want to quit. But I'm tired of being a quitter. It gets old after a while.
I should be writing my talk for church tomorrow. I really have been completely un-inspired for it so far.
You know what? I'm sorry, you guys. You shouldn't have to put up with more than 4 paragraphs of useless monologuing. I expect more from myself than mindlessly babbling about trivial crap.
Oh, gosh, I just had the sad realization that that's a great description for this entire blog: "myself mindlessly babbling about trivial crap."
Now I'm depressed.
But don't hate me because now it seems like I'm putting myself down just to get you to tell me that my blog isn't annoying or trivial. I'm not digging for compliments here.
Now i sound like someone who regularly engages in compliment-digging.
What kind of a sick person writes about doing/does that?
Is said sick person actually just doing that right now?
I need to stop writing before I hurt myself.

Love always/as long as I'm still sane [but even then I guess I'd still love all of you (pshaw. All 3 of you) Oh crap I'm doing it again.]

Remind me never to write again unless I have a solid idea,
Alyssa



Sunday, June 12, 2011

Finding My Passion: Step 1

Well, a couple days into summer vacation I have come to a conclusion: summer vacation sucks. It's been 3 days and I'm already bored out of my mind. As many people are driven to do when they have virtually nothing else to do, I was doing some soul-searching. I realize that this is a dangerous activity to engage in, but I feel that I have no other choice. It was either I googled "How to find your passion," or, "How to make cheese." For the sake of my family's health and the rest of our milk supply, I went with the first option. Plus, I didn't want to have to build my own cheese press.
Anyways, I clicked on an article that came up in my web search and started the first of the several steps listed: Think of what you're good at and start a list of potential candidates for your passion.
Here's what I wrote:

What Am I Good At?
editing
helping people
listening
self-analysis
writing
cooking/baking
shoving stuff in drawers
being "interested"
teaching
eating
spelling
picking zits
web-surfing (not really)
making people feel comfortable
being informal
making up excuses
reading
being shy/awkward
brushing my teeth
being a good student
being a good citizen
not caring if it's perfect (most of the time)
making a room look "lived-in"
buying t-shirts
self-sacrificing (for the most part)
just "screwing it"
coloring
not laughing at people who talk to themselves
talking to myself
arguing with myself
British accent
Jersey accent
Southern accent
thinking of things I'm good at
handwriting
doodling
creative thinking
hating math
wanting to improve myself
nicknames
singing
remembering lyrics
making inside jokes
impulse-buying
cutting olives
imagining
doing crunches
making lists
hating Elen
feeling bad for hating Elen
strongly disliking Elen
setting goals (not necessarily accomplishing them)
being selfish
hating myself
liking myself
doing my eyeshadow
wasting time
being needy
being independent
picking my battles (most of the time)
asking stupid questions
annoying my mother
making Christian angry

If you made it to the end of this list without skimming, I sincerely congratulate you.
Tune in next time for Step 2: What excites you?
As always, thanks for reading/caring!

Sunday, May 29, 2011

What Do You Think?

So, we're back to this again y'all. I'm tired of my hair and lately I have had the urge to just chop it all the heck off. So, I came up with 2 looks that I love, and I wanted to get everyone's opinion, if you'd be so kind.


Look 1:



I was thinking a sort of combination of these two would be cute, but I also think just the first is adorable. Thoughts?


Look 2:



I love the style of the first picture and would prefer the length of the second picture. This look is cute and it involves new bangs from the ones I have now, whereas the other one has pretty much the same bangs.

So, anyways, that's what trivial crap has been on my mind lately. Please let me know what you guys think!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Staring, a.k.a. Creeping

Now, I'm going to tune in to my inner yoga instructor and paint a picture for you. First, I need y'all to close yours eyes, and breathe deeply. In.... Out.... In.... Out....
Okay, picture this:
You are walking through Costco on a Saturday at around 1:00 in the afternoon. Every pants-in-the-family-wearing mom is there with her puppy-dog-eyed husband (and when I say puppy dog, I really mean basset hound), every Grandma is moving as slow as humanly possible down the middle of the aisle, making it completely impossible to pass her (they're tricksy little hobbitses, those grandmas), and every dyed-blond, 40-something, has-been cheerleader is there with her A-game in tow. Now imagine your thoughts upon walking into this mad house. They might be something along these lines:
"Okay, not an ideal day at Costco, but nothing I can't handle." In which case, good for you.
"I guess I can't expect anything less from Costco at one o'clock on a Saturday."
"Mmmm, pizza...."
"Holy crap! What the heck would possess this many people to show up here at once?!"
Or, if you're smart, "I'm getting the heck out of this mad house, my shopping can wait 'till Monday."
However, if you're me, you're thoughts would be something along the lines of, "Why in the name of Mary Todd Lincoln are all these people staring at me?"
That's right, the good ol' woman-I've-just-met-at-Costco stare-down. One of many things in the world guaranteed to make your skin crawl and your palms sweat.
I just don't get the Costco stare-down. What's the point, people? Not that we all can't appreciate some woman we've never met staring expressionlessly at us for more than the socially acceptable one and a half seconds. Believe me, I appreciate it all right; appreciate how unnerving and weird it is. Because, according to my rule book, if you're going to stare at someone for longer than one and a half seconds, then you have to smile at them. That way, they just smile back and think "Oh, what a nice person," instead of when you don't smile, you just look away quickly. Then all they're saying is "Okaaaay...?" But when you stare at them expressionlessly for longer than is socially acceptable, they're thinking, "What is that lady's problem?"
So, people, alls I'm sayin' is, when you're at Costco at one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, just don't stare at people so much. It's creeping me out.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

A vs. An (It's Not That Hard)

Okay, people. It's time to tackle an issue here that, frankly, we shouldn't have to tackle AT ALL. But, we do, because, apparently (Whooooo, COMMA HAPPY :)) 9th grade honors English students don't know when to use the article 'a' and when to use 'an'. Sigh... I would rant endlessly about this, but let's just save you and me the trouble/boredom (not that ranting is boring (for me) but it does take up time and it's not all that entertaining for y'all) OKAY. Phew. Find your chi, Alyssa. Find your chi. Okay. Let's do this thang.
Imagine that you are writing a paper. You suddenly find yourself confronted with an unsolvable problem: is it a eight or an eight? It's time to stop and ask yourself: WHY THE HECK DO I NOT KNOW THIS? IS THIS NOT 3RD GRADE MATERIAL? Then, give yourself a really, really, humongous, ginormoogantic pat on the FACE (you thought I was gonna say back? Ha, you wish suckahs).
The rules for 'a' and 'an' are simple. Now, listen closely, y'all. If the word that comes after the article you're puzzling over begins with a VOWEL, you use 'an'. If the word that comes after the article begins with a CONSONANT, you use 'a'. Let's look at some examples:
I would like to eat an apple for lunch.
I would like to eat a sandwich for lunch.
Got it? We'll see... Now you try:
1. You forgot to put (a/an) eight after the one.
2. My brother is (a/an) jerk.
3. If you don't get this by now, you are (a/an) mentally challenged person, so please join Mental Alyssa in the Corner of Shame.
4. I prefer meat seasoned with (a/an) herb. OOOOOO, tricksy, tricksy. But you know the answer, I know you do. Just go with your gut; that always works for me.

SO, in conclusion, if I ever see the improper usage of a/an again, I will write the web address of this post on a bajillion itty bitty pieces of paper, roll them into the shape of bullets, and shoot myself with them. I will do that in the hopes that, in honor of my memory, someone will start a charity foundation entirely committed to educating the world in the "complicated" art of proper article usage. And, also, that when they find my body, they will have a bajillion tiny web addresses to hand out to the world in support of this noble cause.


'Nuff said.

Monday, September 20, 2010

WHY I HATE COUNTRY MUSIC

How I Got to Be This Way
By Justin Moore (and 2 others (Rivers Rutherford and Jeremy Stover) who are equally accountable for the madness.)


I rolled my Daddy’s truck off the Dicksonville curve
After drinkin’ my fifth beer
And I fed hogs tryin’ to pay him off
For most of my senior year

I got my jaw jacked by a big ol’ boy
For messing ‘round with his girlfriend
She was tall and tight and she kissed just right
But I’ll never do that again

Chorus
Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

I’ve been kicked in the face by a horse
Cause I ran up too fast behind him
And I shook hands on a deal with a man
And found out he was lyin’

I’ve broken a couple of good girl’s hearts
Cause I’ve said I loved ‘em knowin’ I couldn’t
And I’ve given my heart to a woman
Who said she’d stay when I knew she wouldn’t

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

I’ve been bit I’ve been burned but I’ve lived and I’ve learned from it
I’ve made some mistakes but that’s what it takes
To make a man out of a kid

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

Yeah I’ve done some pretty stupid things but hey
I’m a little bit harder and
A whole lot smarter
That’s how I got to be this way

That’s how I got to be this
How I got to be this
How I got to be this way
Hey


Enough said.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Oh MY Gosh

I hate iTunes. For real. I know you're not supposed to be able to transfer music from your iPod onto your PC, but it's ridiculous that when you know how to do it, not all of your music even makes it onto your computer. It's like, "Oh, gee, thanks computer. You know, I didn't even want any complete albums on here. It's not like I paid for them or anything... Oh, wait. I DID. And you know what? I'm glad none of my very favorite songs made it on. I didn't like them all that much anyway, now that I think about it. Thanks for broadening my perspective a little. Now I'm forced to listen to my medium favorites." So now, lucky me gets to buy all brand new songs or figure out some way to email the others to myself.
Did I mention how technologically challenged I am to begin with? I know next to nothing about computers; Grandma Helen probably knows more than me. I'm pathetic when it comes to them. So, needless to say, this is going to be a much bigger challenge than I originally thought.
Great.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Urrrrghlmrrrphdmshmpf.

What an onomatopoeia! But it does express very well how I've been feeling recently. I'm just so restless lately. I don't know what or why it is, but I just get frustrated so easily. It's like the day has just barely begun and I'm already at the end of my rope. I have zero tolerance for anything... I can't sit still for 10 minutes, I have to get up and pace and then sit back down... then get up and pace again, go clean something, then pace then sit then groan then bang my heasd against a wall.
You know, this has happened to me before... I think it's some combination of stress and anxiety and me being unssatisfied with life, which I am. Well, that, and the fact that the disc of Friends episodes we got from the library is scratched and so I can't watch any of the episodes...
That's not the real problem, though. I think I just need some change, or something exciting or interesting to happen. And I'm not talking about the crazy lad y who goes to the grocery store in nothing but her underwear. That's interesting, for sure, but I mean something... ground-breaking(?)... or I don't know... maybe something that would help me gain some perspective. Something new. I'm tired of being so agitated and grumpy all the time. I wanna sing in the shower again, but lately I just haven't been in the mood....
Any advice?
(Sorry. For my first post in 3 months this one sure isn't very cool.)