Archive for December, 2008

Incompatible Gifts

This year’s Christmas booty includes a Bluetooth wireless headset from my uncle, perfect for a mobile phone. Problem is, I don’t have any mobile phone. My uncle then said I could use it with a PlayStation 3. I don’t have that either. For that matter, I don’t have anything Bluetooth compatible. So I suppose my parents, who do happen to have a cell phone, will get to use the device. Or not, since they’re always mentioning radiation and brain tumors and all that nonsense. Or I could simply walk around with the thing stuck in my ear with blue LED glowing and looking like an important business man.

Also, thanks to my many relatives for your red envelopes and assorted gifts, like toothpaste and mattress stockings. And special thanks to the uncle who got me the Stratego set. So far, I’ve won 2 out of 3 games against my brother.

On other notes, I’ve more or less wasted the first week of my happy holidays, playing mindless games, falling sick, and doing everything short of meaningful. Now I get to cram for my Mists of Avalon, Shakespeare project, and absorb an entire unit of AP Biology.

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December 27, 2008 at 6:22 PM 1 comment

Camera Spam

Cameras capture a moment of time.

However, they are the bane of family gatherings. Each family, and my extended family is big, usually brings their own camera. So whenever we get into group pictures, it’s always, “One more! One more!” Then multiply it by the number of cameras, since you can only make eye contact with one camera at a time, all of the pictures get screwed up.

Therefore, I propose a new policy. All cameras save one shall be confiscated at the door. All group photos shall be taken with that sole camera, and the photos posted online by the owner. This way, we save time, flash (which makes things look horrible) battery, and temper, which always run short after twenty shots.

If a person who likes taking pictures is a camera whore, then what do you call the person who likes to take the pictures? My guess, a camera pimp.

December 22, 2008 at 10:51 AM 1 comment

Big Deal of a Birthday

What’s the big deal about birthdays?

This morning, my first conscious thought as I woke up was, “This can’t be right. Isn’t it winter break already? Let’s see, it’s only Monday … Tuesday … Wednesday. Dang it. Three more days to go.”

I do not feel older nor look any older than I did yesterday.

Last night by the way was the winter concert. I sincerely do not know why we are not allowed to leave before the concert is done. Especially since there was this ridiculously early call time of 5:00 and a ridiculously late end time of 9:15. Some of us have homework to complete and tests to study for.

December 17, 2008 at 11:11 PM 2 comments

Double Faulted

In tennis, to double fault is to mess up on two consecutive serves.

I double faulted the tennis tryouts, this year’s and last year’s. This year was rather embarrassing.

I had a 35.8974358% success ration. That’s 28 out of 78 points. At least half of those 50 points that I lost were from double faults.

If I sucked that bad I wouldn’t have tried out and let the school earn interest on that $80 transportation fee that I had paid as part of clearance.

The thing with me is that I’m inconsistent. Some days, I’d play really well – like the Sunday before the last, as some people can testify. Then the next time, possibly even the next day, I’d play like crap – like today, as some people can also testify. I practically double faulted my way through the tryouts, despite having practiced my serving the day before and serving most of the first serves with second serves, which are usually supposed to make it in, not that the firsts aren’t supposed to. I’d serve, and it’d go wide. I’d serve again, and it’d go wide, in the other direction. Change sides and repeat.

Well, the first five games are over, and you have to win six out of nine to move on to round two. I’m already out, but I’ve got four left to play tomorrow and I’m not going to give any free wins. Who knows, tomorrow my serve might return. I’m going to give it detention for being too late.

Double Fault

December 10, 2008 at 6:57 PM 1 comment

Physical Clock

Last year, we had these Staff Development Days once a month. They were early release first semester, and late start start second semester, but at any rate, the shortened school days were what kept me going, after counting down the days till the next three-day+ weekends.

This year, they’re gone. Instead, the school has made up for it by lopping off some extra five minutes from each day. It’s nice, but now what do I have to look forward to?

Ironically, I found my solution in physical education. My teacher has weird schedule. On Tuesday, we have weight-room, and on Thursdays, we have this circuit training thing. It consists of some silly jumping on boxes, some modified pull ups under the bleachers, where you have to hunch over unless you’re under four feet tall to move around, sit ups, push ups, dips, more pull ups, and a last round of box stomping. To top it all off, you get to run a quarter mile lap around the track between each station. He calls it Fun for Fitness, but I just call it Fit Shit.

At any rate, although it takes off 40% of the time we could spend on marginally more fun unit activities, it has become my weekly clock. On Mondays, I fear the weight-room that will come tomorrow, and on Wednesday, I fear the Fit Shit that will be on Thursday. And after Thursday, it’s Friday! They always did say it was darkest before the light.

Unfortunately, the weekends are no longer the hilight of my life. Thanks to some English troubles, my mom signed me up for this English, no, writing class. I originally agreed to it in the hopes that I might be able to write better, but so far, it seems as if all I’m doing is writing more. As if I didn’t have enough essays and projects and procrastination to do.

Then there’s my communist Chinese school. They’ve decided to assign us in addition to their collared monogrammed shirts uniformed pants. And how fitting, it just happened to be a dark navy blue and with a crease down the side. Ironically, my teacher is a Nazi. Just like Hitler, she gave us numbers. I happen to be number Twenty-Six. How dehumanizing it would be if it weren’t so amusing.

December 5, 2008 at 6:33 PM 2 comments


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