A Passive Agressive Suggestion on how to Read this Blog

Please read the last article (the earliest one) first. This is for no particular reason other than I think the most recent one is the best and one should always save the best for last. But, if you don't feel that way, then read it in any order you want. I'm just saying that as the creator of this blog, I would read it from earliest to last. And generally, the creator of things such as blogs are the resident expert as to how to read it. But hey, it's just one interpretation. I'll judge you for doing it in a different order, but if you want to do a different order, you're free to do so. 

Regarding Full Circles and Oblivion

At the beginning of last summer, I decided to read John Green's The Fault in Our Stars as my beach book for the AP English summer reading assignment. I tried to analyze it like I would analyze a script at the Yale School of Drama; I was super detail-oriented, trying to pick out the most minuscule things about location and connections back to history, and blow them up in attempt to force a worldly meaning out of them. I eventually got bored of that and essentially wrote my candid opinion about the book in my entries. I really enjoyed the book; it was the only book among the many I was reading for the assignment that was written in the 21st century, ergo it wasn't chocked full of flowery language that is supposed to contain deep metaphors and whatnot, but ends up only being used to show the readers what a big wig the author is. The language in this was blunt and frank. But in the case of this "beach book", it ended resonating more meaning to me than any of those "books of literary merit."

As it happens, with the last entry for the book, I ended up writing a four page rant about "Where is the justice in this world?". I didn't think that Augustus Waters deserved to die, it just wasn't fair, and it didn't help me feel any more worldly, no matter how many meanings could be extracted from his death. I mean, I knew that the book was a tear-machine, but come on John Green goddammit. 

I felt the same way at the premiere of TFIOS (for those non-nerdfighting groupies, that is the book's acronym, pronounced Tif-ee-ose). Amazingly enough, it was exactly ten months to the day I started reading the book for my assignment. I sat in a theater filled with girls hysterically sobbing when Hazel Grace Lancaster receives a phone call in the middle of the night that her star-crossed-lover is gone. It didn't matter that Augustus Waters was a fictional character; it was the fact that he of all people died. He, who used to put death between his teeth and not let it kill him, he that would smile and make an entire audience feel a little more relaxed. 

As I was driven home by my friend, they talked about how some people they had known had died in the same manner as Augustus Waters, only it took decades and decades of chemotherapy and radiation for it to happen. I made a very asshole-ish comment about not pulling the plug on it sooner if someone was suffering for so long. The simple answer they gave was, "Well, they loved life too much to give it up." 

We sat in silence for the rest of the car ride. I was feeling terrible for what I had said, so I didn't want to speak again for fear of once again saying the wrong thing. I knew what I had said was awful, but there was a point I wanted to make. I just had conveyed it in the worst way possible. 

What I wanted to talk about was the big picture aspect of the book that I discovered in front of the big screen. The idea of oblivion. Augustus' one desire in life is to be something. He played basketball, tried to live an extraordinary life, when at the end he falls tragically to cancer even before he can enroll in college. There is this incredible scene where Hazel tries to tell Augustus that even if you aren't in all the magazines and newspapers, that doesn't by any means that you aren't extraordinary. It is better to love deeply than widely. Augustus Waters did live a full life because he was able to change the life of Hazel for the better by bringing her out of depression and showing her the capacity of love. 

Which is why, in a sad way, it was almost alright for Augustus to leave early. By the time that Augustus had died, he had already impacted a lot of people by loving them deeply. And there is no doubt that the deep love he gave have a ripple effect. Those who were shown love by him will spread the happiness and warmth he gave them. Without knowing it, Augustus Waters may have just made thousands of people happier before he lived twenty years. The little infinity he gave not only Hazel, but Isaac, his family, and everyone else he knew, will be ephemeral. 

In a way (and this may be a reach but I'm feeling sentimental so suck it up) this idea to leave a legacy can be connected to my final days in high school. I can't say that I am a legend by any sense of the word (nor is anyone in my grade except for that matter), but that doesn't mean that I or anyone in my class didn't leave an impact on the high school. This entire year, I was trying to amount to something greater than myself. I wanted to get into an amazing college and get the lead in the school musical and beat out my friends in grades and win, win, win. I wanted to be in the papers and use my last year in New Canaan High School to go down in history as an amazing person. But I didn't need that to make an impact, nor did anyone in the class of 2014. We reached out to teachers, taught underclassmen life lessons directly, or indirectly made stupid mistakes that underclassmen can learn by. People might want to borrow our prom dresses we once rocked, or even want to "be as talented" as one of the seniors in the theatre department. When you think about it, many underclassmen (at one point or another) idolized seniors in high school. When I was a freshman, I wanted to be just as cool as the seniors, and they never knew that. The things that go unsaid often last longer than the things that do. 

In a way, we all want to leave an impact. But just like Augustus Waters, although we entered this year wanting to accomplish great things or be great, even if we didn't do that, we have created a small infinity in high school by the ripple effect of our small acts of kindness.

I find it kind of sad that I could't realize this whole idea of oblivion until I reached the end of senior year (you could say that I was oblivious to the oblivion! At least I'm trying to be funny here). However, it is only fitting that the book that sparked my interest in AP English be the movie to end my year on a higher note than I have ever imagined. 

Okay? 
Okay. 

The College Essay Revisited

To the surprise of no one, I hated the college process. I started my freshman year (word of advice: don't start your freshman year) and until May 1,  the college process dominated my reason for succeeding in high school. 
Which is why the essay was a huge point of contention. Sure, the grades and extracurriculars were all there, but this was an opportunity to show that I was more than decent grades and a theatre resume. As it's become evident, I have a very distinct writing style: very candid, occasional flowery language, and generally too-long sentences. 

My parents are amazing in supporting me. But we just have different writing styles. After months of arguments and 8-hour saturdays of writing and re-writing, this is the essay we came up with: 

I never saw myself as a runner. I had always been the kid who walked the timed mile in gym class with my friends, and ended up coming in last. So, not surprisingly, I was reluctant when my mom told me to sign up for a cross country class at summer camp. After much discussion, I agreed to sign up, and prayed that the class would be full. However, when I got to camp, there it was on my schedule. The very first class was a timed four mile race. With the sun blazing and the air heavy, I huffed and puffed on the dusty roads around camp for forty-four painful minutes. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. At one point, one of the counselors said to me, “Hey, we can turn back now if you want.” When I heard that, something changed in me. I realized that I couldn’t back out. I had started this thing and I would finish it properly. When I hit the entrance of the camp, I sprinted with all I had to the finish line. My classmates had already left. I was tired and dehydrated, but I felt really refreshed and my head was clear. Although I was exhausted, I felt ready to face anything.

I continued to run occasionally when I returned home from camp. It was my sophomore year, I had a rigorous schedule and started to fall behind in chemistry. I decided that the best way to catch up was to review my homework with my chemistry teacher, Mr. Spooner, during his office hours. Unfortunately, Mr. Spooner’s office hours were only at 6:30am. It was awkward at first; Mr. Spooner was not accustomed to students coming in that early, or that regularly, for help. In fact, most mornings, it was just Mr. Spooner and me. I tried to diffuse the tension by being especially polite and enthusiastic. Gradually, Mr. Spooner and I began to enjoy each other’s company, and eventually he lost his morning grumpiness. On my progress report, Mr. Spooner called me the “comeback kid.” I was so excited by what I had accomplished, that evening I ran farther than I had ever run before.

At this point, I was running almost every day. My determination was tested again when, as a junior, I was selected to attend my first ever Model United Nations (MUN) conference. In MUN, each delegate is assigned a country to represent and a room in which to compete. Each room is assigned a topic to debate. Over the course of the conference, the delegates work together to draft and propose resolutions which are then debated on the floor. I was assigned to represent the country of Guatemala. My room, the Disarmament and International Security Room, had 90 delegates and was the largest room at the conference. It was very intimidating as it seemed that the other delegates were so much more experienced. Still, I hit the ground running from the first night of committee. I was not going to let the other delegates, even if they were representing larger, more influential countries, overpower me. I joined an alliance with the United States and worked hard to be an effective advocate. Not only did our resolution get passed, but I was named as one of the top 5 delegates in my room. As my name was called at the awards ceremony, and I as walked up to accept my award, I felt energized and so thrilled by what I had accomplished.

           Now, I run everyday, regardless of the weather. By challenging myself to new speeds and distances, I have found the determination to meet other challenges. From a heavy class load, to a packed schedule, running helps me relax, focus and prioritize. I am very proud that running has helped shape the person I have become.

Yeah, this is a very classic "these are all the wonderful things about me crammed into 650 words" essay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but as it happens, before I showed anything to my parents, I wrote a very passionate essay about a side of me that I didn't really share with anyone. I love running, and I told the back story to why I started running. 

If I ever want to feel like I’m capable of greatness, I run in the rain. The raindrops that fall from the clouds and drip from the hunter green oak leaves run down my face and my arms, meeting my adrenalized endorphins with a cool calm that makes me more clear minded and empowered. It propels me to farther and faster. Even if I don’t reach a “personal best” each time, and I run up the stairs of my porch panting and sweating, I still grin, because running has changed my life.  

After my freshman year I was headed to Camp Lochearn to be a counselor in training after four great summers as a camper. Life as I knew it was happy, busy and filled with purpose. Right before I arrived at Lochearn, my life quickly came to an unfathomable pause: my cousin Ellie was killed by a falling tree while on a camping trip. Everything felt off kilter; I had just seen Ellie two weeks ago, how could she be gone? Because of the funeral, I arrived at Camp Lochearn a couple days late, feeling lost, empty, and very confused. Being a “Lochearn Lassie” was the last thing on my mind.

At the last minute, my mom convinced me to sign up for the Cross Country class as one of my activities. I didn’t really think that I would make it through all four weeks, so I agreed, with the intent to drop out of the activity after the first or second class. Because I arrived late, activities had already had their introductory classes. In fact, my very first session of cross country was the tryout for the race around the lake, a ten kilometer run. I huffed and puffed for forty-four painful minutes, coming in last in my class. I didn’t think that I was going to make it through a whole month of that, but at that week’s campfire, I was recognized for my courage to try to qualify on my very first day of cross country. It was the first time I had really smiled since Ellie died. If all it took to be good at cross country was to try and cheer on everyone else while you lagged behind, I thought, then this might not be too bad.

I decided to stay in cross country. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t fast; I came to realize that the feeling I got after running and taking a hot shower was really soothing. Running left me a little happier, as I tried to come to grips with Ellie’s death.

I requested to give a small speech at our Sunday Night Campfire. The theme that night was friendship; I got up and told the entire camp, all two hundred and fifty people, about my friendship with Ellie, and about how the friendships I had at Lochearn were vital for making me get through this difficult time. I didn’t mention the friendship I had newly formed with running; but running had become my closest friend.

I continued to run when I got home from camp and now I run every day no matter what the weather is like. Running gives me resilience, an open mind, and a sense of optimism. The pavement on my street has been where I’ve thought about Ellie, but it has also been where I’ve been able to think about anything that’s come up in my life. That forty-five minutes of my day is where I ease my stress, stop my negativity, and boost my confidence. Ellie’s memory will never die in my mind, because it is always there for me on the pavement of the street.

Honestly (and this is the end of the year so everything can be out in the open without me feeling bad about it) I do like this essay better. I wonder whether or not Georgetown would have liked this better. Regardless, I got in to my top choice, and I know that there really isn't anything to be upset about, but I do think wondering is justified. I wish I could submit my app again and use this essay, just to see. Is passion better than trying to cram in all of the accomplishments that didm;t make it on your resume? I don't really know. But its worth wondering.

The Ten Things I Wish I Knew in High School

When I was in middle school and even elementary school, I dreamed of the day where I would be a high schooler. In my mind, when a person gets to high school, they automatically get more beautiful, more-care-free, and everyone gets along (Shoutout to High School Musical for clouding my mind with that facade; damn you Zac Efron and your perfection). So, to the surprise of no one, when I stood at the end of the driveway waiting for the bus on my first day of freshman year, I was rather disappointed to see that I still had braces on my teeth and already a lot of stress about schoolwork. I suddenly felt like I was getting myself into something much worse than anything I'd imagined. What I eventually discovered was that while it's high school, and it sucks, it's also high school, and it's awesome. 

1. Reinvention is a lie. As much as we wish there was, there is no magic high school potion that gets kids out of the awkward middle school phase. For many people, they are just about to hit their awkward phase. You may not even realize that you are in your awkward phase. Do not "remake yourself"; anyone who reinvents their image for the sake of not being awkward only ends up making it worse. Please do not die your hair pink unless you actually like pink hair; its not worth the attention. The attention you receive is only negative, no matter how many times your best reassures you that this shows how "unique" it makes you. If you do change, this change is gradual and steady. On a side note, especially avoid reinventing yourself to be a hipster. Speaking from personal experience, do not wake up one day thinking that you can suddenly rock square-frame glasses and recite slam poetry in the lounge. True-blue hipsters do not and cannot exist in New Canaan. Sorry Nick Zanca, you aren't hipster if you live in a million-dollar home and drive a land rover.  
2. You actually need to work hard from day 1. As in day 1 of kindergarten. Like your personal image, you cannot reinvent your intelligence when you walk through the doors of high school. Your ivy-league dreams aren't going to happen if you are in all regular classes your freshman year, no matter how many APs you end up taking later or how many generations of your family have gone to that school. And if you get D's first semester freshman year, you are doomed to have to work doubly as hard to get that GPA up to something socially acceptable. Regardless of how much you "get your act together" after you majorly fall, just be prepared to know that you are already one lap behind everyone you want to be competing with. 
3. Take everyone's reviews of teachers with a grain of salt. I went into classes with pre-conceived notions, an that always ended up biting me in the butt. I was told that I would have the time of my life with Mr. Webb in APUSH and that Mrs. Brown would make my life miserable. It ended up that these views had some bias to them. Webb may love you only if (I really mean ONLY if) you are a star participant, constantly raising their hand. Although I am an avid participant in class, APUSH absolutely terrified me because I hate raising my hand only to have the wrong answer. Everyone else in my grade (except Jack O'Rourke, of course, who Mr. Webb once called "dreamy" in another class) felt the same way. We didn't participate, he ended up hating us. Mrs. Brown, on the other hand, may only give you a good grade if you write very liberal, "pour-you-soul-out" narratives, but hey, at least she cared. She once came up to me after grading a paper and gave me a hug because she was so excited about the things I wrote. Mind you, I wrote that paper at one o'clock in the morning after binge watching How I Met Your Mother. Everyone is different; you will have a unique experience with every teacher. 
4. It's only worth going to 2-3 football games in your high school career. Apologies to future football captain Jim Keneally for this piece of advice, but it's quite true. Everyone is drunk, someone gets their stomach pumped, the Rams crush the other team, or somehow always win. Repeat for the rest of the season. School spirit is nice, but if you need to be of half-brain-function to have school spirit, then there really isn't any spirit at all. Only if the game is important do you go. This counts for all activities: if it's and important game to the team or to your friends on the team than you go. THIS ALSO GOES FOR THEATRE. Go to the shows if its the winter show or if your friends have a big part. Don't lose the game of "I'm quizzing you to see if you went to the show". 
5. Work hard now, play hard later We all end up going to a party at some point in high school. My advice for you is to wait until at least sophomore year. Put yourself in good academic standing and a good work habit before you add partying into the mix. Learning to work while hungover takes some already well-established work skills. But you need to learn how to do it. Please go out and have fun; there is no need to stay home every weekend. Have some drinking experience before college, before you get to the big leagues in college. 
6. Get your drivers license as soon as possible. The bus used to be cool when you were in missile school because that's where all of your friends were. But in high school, taking the bus is a sign of either being an underclassmen or a (for a lack of a better word) loser. Plus, Giovanni is an absolute gem of a teacher. I honestly looked forward to Wally and the ghetto cushion (inside jokes of driving school... oh wait you haven't gone to driving school? Ohhhhh then you wouldn't get it...). Just go, get the classes, done, start driving. The more experience you have the better. 
7. Avoid Helen. She is not a person whose reviews you should take with a grain of salt. Helen and her traffic minions are out to get you. If you want to go off campus but you don't have a pass, do not go if Helen is there. Even if you borrow and off-campus pass, she WILL ask you show her both sides of that pass. And believe me, she doesn't take too kindly to pulling a fast one. She will march you down to the principal's office in her sparkly jeans and lunchbox as fast as her nurse shoes can carry her. Her minions are slightly better; if you get turtle you are essentially getting Helen and the other two don't care. In fact, I don't even know what the other two's voices sound like; that's how little they care. 
8. Do not ask your parents to help write your college essay. Unless your parents are English teachers or were English majors in college, I promise you the Englsih teachers at school can help you much more than your parents. English teachers know how to help veering writing styles; parents do not. If you write like F. Scott Fitzgerald and your father writes like Ernest Hemingway, then coming up with a compromise will only result in loud arguments. The college process is painful enough; if you have the English department and you guidance counselor behind your essays, there will be no need for your parents to intervene. 
9. Being a second semester senior actually means nothing. I'm sorry, being a "cool and relaxed second semester senior" is a myth until after AP exams. Unless you applied to a school Early Decision, third quarter matters because you might get wait listed at your top choice. And plus, you may be burned out by the time May rolls around, but if you want to get out of those General Distribution requirements in college (and believe me, you do) then putting effort into studying for those APs could mean the difference between fulfilling and not fulfilling distribution requirements. Just put effort in. It sucks, but its that whole long-term-payoff concept. Do it, and you'll thank yourself later. 
10. Don't sweat the small stuff, kid.  I am a pretty panicky person. Test scores below a C automatically induce tears, I can literally worry myself sick, and above all, I am a perfectionist. However, being a perfectionist in high school is nearly impossible; there are so many things that can't and won't go the way you envisioned. But you can't let a little slip-up or one bad test drown out your confidence. Study harder, go in for extra help, say you're sorry, whatever it takes. When you make a mistake, it takes time to clean up the collateral damage, but by doing so, you and the people around you are built up to be stronger and better. I came in my freshman year of high school thinking that I was going to University of Michigan to become a Broadway performer. Four years later, I am on my way to Georgetown to study business. Things take a different course, not by your own doing but by the doing of any and all situation you find yourself in in high school. It'll be okay. Believe me, it all turns out okay in the end. And that's all that really matters. If I knew that as a junior, or even as a first semester senior, I probably wouldn't have had as many tears shed or as much hair fall out. But now that I know, I am ready to take on whatever the future holds for me.