Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts

Jessica Goldstein: In Memoriam

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Though it may be a little gratuitous, with the recent passing of my esteemed mentor and teacher, Jessica Goldstein, I have been thinking a lot about high school and some of those lost memories. So, here's a short introspective.

High school sometimes seems like a blur - ugly smells from the cafeteria, consistently awkward schedule changes, and the occasional detention with Ms. Lee (which didn't really seem like a punishment). I remember that many classes made me scream; even if I was with friends, even if I liked the teacher, even if I thought the material was easy. Theater class, however, was not like that. I never dreaded going into that strange octagonal room that Goldstein fondly named her "bat cave." It had a special brand of crazy that I knew how to handle.

I was a quiet girl who didn't speak up in French class and who wore baggy black clothing outside of theater class. There I was loud. In charge. Encouraged to take risks, even if that meant doing something as wacky as putting a plastic chicken on my head and running about as a spirit from the dead. For all the years that I did high school theater, Goldstein was the woman who gave us a rueful "you kids" smile and let us press on.

A lot of us flocked to theater as an elective that was easy or we knew how to do; there was the standard motley crew of acting kids and techies, overconfident jocks, and nerdy people who needed another class to add on. Some of us wrote papers for the International Baccalaureate and some of us were goofballs that never did the reading. Sometimes the same kid did both. But as much as we would skip class or fight with the teacher, when a sub came in, we were all on the same side. We knew that they had no power over us - and we had a mighty loyalty to Goldstein. Which is not to say that she didn't get played sometimes, but there was definitely an air of respect for her that was not otherwise present. Some of us, I among them, adored her to the fighting end even when she got on our nerves with inconsistencies.

She refused to conform with school policies that would stifle us and administration that would snark at us for being unchaperoned. She let us have run of the theater with our creative expression, let us handle the backstage, taught us to value or waste our time according to our own goals. While these privileges were used and abused, they were always there, a show of measurable respect and honor that she had for us as young adults just as we had respect for her as a wacky adult that gave us more of herself than I ever imagined.

I honestly thought that Goldstein would live forever.

She graduated with my class of 2009, moving back to NY during that summer. While there were cries of "thank God!" and the theater got on a more traditional 2-plays-a-year track, I was glad not to have to be a part of Interlake theater without Goldstein. I can't imagine it would have been much fun. In my freshman year of college, Goldstein sat with me on the Columbia steps and told me how to love the city was to get away from it once in a while and that I could visit her when I needed that break. Now I'll never get the chance.

I know it seems small, to love a high school teacher. After all, aren't we individuals and shouldn't we leave the past to the past? But Goldstein was more than just a teacher for me. I attribute so much of my ability to stand up for myself and to voice my opinions to her guidance. She encouraged me to write, to speak, and most importantly to not be afraid. She herself was never afraid to be silly, to feel her emotions, and to bring her full self into our lives. I will never forget it.

Interlake theater kids and anyone else who wants to share a memory of Goldstein, please send me a message or comment here. I want to cultivate the memories that we have of her in a safe place.

Remembering Jessica Goldstein

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

"We are not idealized wild things. We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.” ― Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

This quote was with me all day yesterday, after I learned that my acting teacher in high school, Jessica Goldstein had passed away from brain cancer early that morning. She had been a great friend and mentor to me - one of those teachers that you talk about in your memoirs as someone who touched your life and made you really believe in yourself. One of those mythical people who, while they were all-too-human, still came through for you in every possible way and encouraged you to be the best person you could be.

Many of my high school memories are peppered with memories of Goldstein. I remember her in her amazing laugh. I remember her telling us stories about Nepal and Russia and New York - places we suburban kids could only dream were much better than the city we'd grown up in. She was accomplished in so many ways, and yet she never condescended to us. She treated us like mini-adults and gave us much more sway than many of our other teachers. She fought for us, especially when we wanted to do something radical.

She allowed me to put on one of my most glowing accomplishments: a stage-adapted version of Speak, a novel by Laurie Halse Anderson about rape and its affect on a high school girl's psyche. She pushed me to be courageous, to press hard, and to speak with my loudest and clearest voice.

I will miss her dearly.

 Lovely Goldstein, smiling amidst all our crazy high school antics.

Own Every Inch: Seattle Appreciation in Lists

Monday, August 29, 2011


I hate to be a cliché in my own life, but I believe that running away to NYC actually taught me a lot about Seattle. I came out of high school with a fully formed desire to escape that place. Suburban, middle class, mostly white high school taught me – in some strange ways – that nothing I wanted was going to be easy to get. We had the academic standing, but the culture of our school was restrictive. While administration wanted us to perform well on standardized tests, they barred us from creative endeavors like theater programs and newspapers. And, unless it made the school look good, philanthropic and cultural clubs were also out.

That atmosphere left me, the motivated do-gooder with a creative bent, completely despondent.

Out of Work Slam Poet

Friday, September 24, 2010

My job at the library is reading zines. For 8-9 hours per week, I am forced (forced!) to read and write up descriptions of zines from the 70s all the way through the present. And, unlike other mundane jobs, it actually makes me want to do many things - like roller derby, feminist activism, writing up a South Asian dictionary (not of a South Asian language), read a million books about lesbians and trans people and multi-racial people and black people and white people and Asian people...
But the most recent of my inspirations has been to write a slam poem. And actually perform it. Since most of the zines I have been reading are intensely personal and talk about their experiences through personal essay, fiction, and - obviously - poetry, it has made me wonder about expressing myself in that way once more.
But I feel like a lion that has lost its fangs. I have been wondering about where my rhythm went as of late. In high school, I was unafraid. I wrote whatever the hell I wanted to and somehow it worked. I would read it at Hugo House and feel some sparkly confidence after the audience started applauding. But somehow... after my high school graduation speech (which was, itself, a slam poem), I have felt that I've used up all the beats. I get anxious when thinking of the stage. I worry about what people will think and I worry about whether there's even a venue for my type of stuff.
I know that a lot of my fears are unfounded, but I feel like this post is a good starting point to work on it. There are a lot of things I want to say and I know that if I work on it, they'll fit. It's all a matter of time...
To make this a little more interesting, I'm going to post up my graduation speech slam. I wish I had a video of it... it must be out there somewhere!

Grad Slam
I had a crush in the eighth grade.

Thought we could be forever,
Through stormy Washington weather,
Through bad pop music and TV clichés,
Through all the internet abbreviations – lol, rofl, omg – that became our new phase
Through all the cheesy movie musicals and awkward first days…
I was in love with high school.
And not Highland Middle School, no,
That place was a joke.
I was too old for the activity bus-riding, Yu-Gi-Oh gaming, Reflections-writing, D.A.R.E. abiding hoax that tried to tie our elementary days with all of the other grades.
Now that seems like light years away.
My love affair with high school lasted much longer than that.
9th grade wasn’t that cool.
High school and I were like buddies on AIM chat who thought we knew each other but were just strangers meeting for the first time.
He was a fan of Calvert 5 page essays and I was a fan of sleeping in on Saturdays.
Still, he tried to be nice;
Linked me up with a Crew to show off the new two-story school,
Taught me to bark at football games,
But as soon as we found the breakdown of senior, junior sophomore, and… us (the little freshmen with the whole maturity thing comin’ our way)
We stayed wrapped up in the insecurities – the awkward shuffle at tolo, the braces, eyeglasses, gym class miles and stuttering
The answers just trapped… on the tip of our tongues
Who wasn’t lost when they told us we’d eventually end up getting such strange diseases?
Like School Spirit, Spring Fever and Senioritis?
It was confusing enough even without all that MLA formatting. Uh, how do we cite this again?
But then it was sophomore year, and we had no time for any of these questions.

High school and I, we had some better dates back then.
Homecoming and its glossy thrill – the light rain and freezing temperatures on the field (we’d learned that the cheering was mostly for drill; high school wasn’t the best football player)
We were still kind of kids back then.
Joining our first AP classes and fancying ourselves little women and men
But it wasn’t so long ago when we wouldn’t have dreamed, wouldn’t have schemed
To skip classes or copy notes at the age of 15.
We were good kids, more or less.
But add on some stress and the morning math tables just couldn’t express
The interest of Halo and pointless internet quests
(Myspace and Youtube are guilty no less
Than our crazy parents who always wanted to test
Whether we could take on the WASL and Ms. Boness
Without our foreheads exploding and leaving a mess)
And high school and I? We learned how to argue.
My parents thought him a bad influence – taking the precious sleep I had left,
Dinner or vacation or even “conversation” all became things of the past,
I had no time to put together syllables and sentences; we were hermits studying for the next big exam… or tuned out in front of the television, trying to trip that final security switch and pass the next level without a hitch
There were shouting matches, indeed, but the sound of our yelling finally receded
AP World finally retreated
And the summer broke open that repeated desire that, at the time, very few knew.
College, that trickster, was about to ensue.

So when high school and I met again, as upperclassmen I knew where we’d been.
Now AP and IB would blend
Our mood swings and social deprivation – leave the fortunate ones laughing at our desperation
To spend hours and hours on school work and clubs
We begged and we pleaded, but the teachers’d say ‘tough’
As we filled that 24 hours with Millhollen’s math packets, an essay or two, a physics lab, a makeup test, some theater work, and then – maybe – some rest? Alas…
High school always wanted more – but I’d had enough.

To tell you the truth: I knew.
That those lyrical voices were about to ensue,
All the friends who came out of hibernation to advise,
That high school had been feeding more than a spoonful of lies;
He’d want me to work for him, and I’d said sure,
But now…
I didn’t know where we were.
He was the master at his own chess game,
Telling me to make a move, take another test, never rest,
Until the school year seemed like it was surely a jest – what kind of life was it when you were only a guest?
Barely staying overnight in your own bed and chained more often to that high-tech desk.
Finally, we asked for guidance, and here came the reply:
College.
Just work for college, we were told, the almighty counselors and past seniors would preach;
Start early, don’t look back,
But at that time with high school, all we knew was the past.
So we were old soldiers before we knew it.
Battling down through a hallway of freshmen and spewing word vomit to complete the next oral presentation, the next essay, the next line of code, about to explode… then,
Then the dust cleared, June came, and we knew where we stood.
High school, remember when I came in saying, that I’d never catch senioritis?
Haha, well… it caught me.
It was the downward slide,
In a relationship that’d lost all it’s steam.
Now we relinquished our hold on the work we had done – essays weren’t exciting, in fact, neither was class. Seriously, we only had to pass. {}
We thought we could breathe when we were blessed with snow – no!
High school still drove us to work for the next moment, the next second counts,
But hey, procrastination felt all the sweeter,
When it was taken with a snowball fight and some hot cocoa.
Over the years, this little freshman girl had grown more rebellious,
Now, owing my ammunition,
To the armies from the pages of novels and violent video games,
The arsenal had built up to buck the Man, the system, in any way, shape, or form.
But our parents, well, they still threatened (or “asked”) us to toe the line.
So instead, we huddled up, put our fingers to keyboards, pen to paper, and applied ourselves into the future realm,
Of dorm rooms, sleepless nights, and foreign lands…
People we hadn’t known for years at a time and…
COLLEGE! It was on everyone’s lips like a delicious secret to be kept from high school at all costs; a tasty tidbit of the “real world” (if there ever was such a thing)
But we were careful to trip over our own tongues and mask our delight with knocks on wood and plenty of shaking – we still had tests to take after all.
We started counting on June 5th, which became June 22nd, which became only a few months, weeks, days away, until…
Graduation. The end game, crash-land paradise, that emptied us into the pool of a new summer, a new situation. Not just a vacation, but an escape from the ordinary – and who didn’t want that after so many years?
So here’s to celebrating the moments:
Prom on a warm night in Seattle – subjecting ourselves to an onslaught of photographic nostalgia, parents and faculty reminding us to “be safe” and “have fun”
The final minute of your final (last, latest, penultimate) final, finally come to meet you with a hoot and holler.
The crying/laughing hysterics of the going-away party, the roads all spreading out in front of you and your friends… but there’s an epilogue to the story that just has to end.
So, high school and I, we’ve gone our separate ways.
Our head-butt drag-out relationship just wasn’t going anywhere.
He wanted me to stay, but I had to leave,
The cramped hallways, 7 periods a day, claustrophobic 35 minute lunch – hey, I don’t know about you, but this dog just got too big for her cage.

Congratulations class of 2009, you’ve earned it! Have a great summer!

More poetry is also available for your perusal.

Photographic Adventures: Interlake Graduation '09

Monday, July 6, 2009

All photographs courtesy of Heather H. Thanks!




























Just me, looking like a weirdo and scaring people around me again...

Check out some more posts featuring my photography and guest photographs.

Memoirian Highlights: Interlake Graduation '09

The day of graduation (it's so big it deserves it's own sections):
- Grad rehearsal in the morning and the chaos of a nearly unplanned graduation on the field (geez... you would think that the administration would get a little more prepared)
- Went out with Josh and Heathy and got my makeup done at Clinique (really nice actually, considering that we kind of botched my makeup the day before with Heathy's decision that she was my 'personal styler')
- Went to lunch with the grandparents at Applebees - craziness and awesome reunion of two halves of our family. Celebrating graduating in style!
- Running around and changing into my graduation attire (I finally got nervous about my speech at about that time and ran it over with Heathy)
- Walking over to Interlake and doing a mini-photo shoot with Heathy along the way (pictures in the next post are courtesy of her!)
- Running around talking to everyone who came in, all in the same attire, and wondering why our entire staff appeared like witches and warlocks in their black graduation robes.
- Lining up, nervously, as the stands filled and we watched our graduation begin... we walked across the field with locked arms, broke off as we exited the blue and white arch, stampeded attractively forward to our seats (I, being a speaker, sat on stage) and sat through what seemed to be a remarkably short graduation ceremony - shortest I've been to! Millhollen's speech was inspirational, but less 'him' than I thought it would be. The other pleasantries were pretty well done, but I felt like the principal missed the point on a lot of things. For myself, I was feeling nervous so, while I didn't tremble, I did stutter a bit - however, I think it went over well as a speech 'for the people.' I bucked Interlake in style and everyone caught the fever - sweet!
- Cascading out into the monolithic crowd of students and well-wishers as they said their goodbyes. Heathy took a lot of pictures of me with some of the friends I think I'll never see again, as well as my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncle. Overall, it was a crazyfest because of so many people flooding the Commons and figuring out where they were going next. I was tired already and it wasn't even Senior Party!
- Out of the mayhem and into the odd... when I stripped away all my grad attire, donned my dad's coat for warmth, and realized that my heels weren't the best for partying, we were off to get searched for the senior party. I was pretty pissed off that they took my bag even though it only had lipstick in it (geez) but then started talking to Molly and all the people from our senior class so as to ignore it. It was a lot of waiting for the buses, but once they arrived, I found myself on the all guy bus with just a few Russian girls and me. Luckily, Goru was there and we chatted the entire way - yay!
- Our first location was a boat. (I'm on a boat, mothafucka'!) It was more awesome than I'd thought because I didn't originally like the idea of a boat, but the ride was pretty smooth and once people had eaten their fill and we started dancing, it was pretty good. I was sad that there wasn't more time to dance since they were actually playing pretty good songs (Pitbullll!) but then came time for the hypnotist and the crazy show of popular people doing insane things while under the influence of belief. It was hilarious, but long, and so when we finally returned to shore, it was already late.
- I was falling asleep on the bus as we headed to our next location - Family Fun Center. Although I like playing games, I was just too tired for this place by that point. I shot dinosaurs with Nitsu and then promptly proceeded to take a pretty long nap on a table near the food area. When I woke up again, I walked around and played some other games (including beating Omar at Tekken - yesss) but ultimately just wanted to go home. When we arrived back in the morning, I was so disoriented that nothing even made sense anymore...

And that was the day and night of graduation. Overall, I'm pretty psyched that we're out now - as Molly and Kelsey and I conjectured in the early morning at Family Fun Center, there were a lot of people who thoroughly enjoyed high school... and then there were people who didn't. I liked some parts of high school, but overall it was more complaint-worthy than memorable. Happiness ebbs and flows though, maybe when I look back on this in twenty years, I'll be saying 'yep, those were the best years of my life...' Haha - doubt it.

Medaille du B.I.

Thursday, June 11, 2009


That's what's in my picture today - my IB Candidate medal!
I don't know why they don't give us medals after we get the diploma, but I guess it makes sense that we won't all be nicely compacted in high school when those results come in. I'm both nervous and excited - but I definitely want to get out of high school in this flippin' second.
I practiced my grad speech today and was pleasantly surprised; it didn't suck! I relive that non-suckage every time I read it, which is nice.
In other news, I had another scary episode of dreaming about the future and how things will be in college and leaving everything behind... I woke up at 5am out of a dream just thinking that nothing would work out in my relationship. Fortunately, I got this piece of advice off of my boyfriend this afternoon:
"Don't think about all the things you're going to leave behind, think about all the things you're going to."
Simple and true. Something to live by.

I am grateful for...
The art of making mini-zines and the flexibility of said small projects. Seriously, it's just great to feel like you finished something and it actually looks GOOD.


Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

Considerable Thought

Wednesday, June 10, 2009


Think Simple Now has got to be one of my favorite sites right now. I read a lot of their articles just to peruse the different ideas for feeling better, having better self-image, and creating a better environment.
Alongside TUTs Adventurer's Club and Gala Darling, they need to be given their props for teaching me many things to better myself. Check it out!
Aside from that, I have little to say but love yourself, make your own decisions, and take breaks! (Because heaven knows that's what I did today!)

I am grateful for...
The sweet look on my boyfriend's face when he's asleep. Most anyone asleep is really cute, but especially if it's someone you care about.


Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

Creative Lessons

Tuesday, June 9, 2009



I have been bursting at the seams to just do something other than school. Thankfully, we only have 7 days left, and I've finished all my projects up to now - but that still does not mean I have been sitting pretty with the whole "spending seven hours of my life" thing. However, I will just pray that this week moves as fast as I believe it will and look towards a summer of crafting and personal time.
My mission is to consolidate myself; focus on the creative and work with less. I amassed a lot of stuff during the years due to either creative ventures or packrat habits. So, in focusing on a new era of my life, I am moving away from the old clutter and towards simplicity. I really like having space in my room these days. But, enough about all my plans, now on to some writing!

I found a memory box that was in the living room (which is code for "kept away from J's crazy cleaning episodes") so I really wanted to write a poem about it. Unfortunately... it didn't come out as well as I thought it would. Oh well, life's a journey! Here it goes.

Ode to a Missing Box
In small spaces
Where old papers are often shoved
In the attic
Or basement
Or closet, untouched
The minute hand ticks
Raking in the moments before...

I pass out these gifts
Collect wizened acorns
And jaunty hair bands
Bring buttons, umbrellas, letters, and crayons
Back to life
Then send them, once again, to silence.

When does a memory
Stop being an object?

When I close its doll eyes
And press it snugly to sleep
Thence it creeps
From the glowing vibrations of being "now"
Into the immeasurable heap
That wide expanse
Of teal papers, crimson hats, empty promises,
Shrugged shoulders, sighs and rats;
"What were you thinking?" comes to mind.

My mystery box, a missing box
A wickerwork/cardboard/metal creation
The lazy foundation
For the years
after the formative years;
Youth ignores you
Not callously, but without guide
Big boys and big girls let you dwindle and fade
Jobs now, babies, and still getting laid
But!
In the waning years of our ever-waxing moon
We wish to unearth you
Remember all your details, plot holes, and character devices
Like all those pleasant novels that we heard about when we were kids

Sometimes...
We seek out the embrace of stuffed toys
The cardboard-bound books
The makeshift craft fairs and first attempts
(Then, of course, we curse ourselves for not being so diligent)
You open for us
That whole hidden world

Missing box, mystery box
Shoved away in blank spaces
Reappear on blank pages
Save us shame later by exploring us now
(Who's to say what's adult anyway?)
We crack open your lid
Shake the dust from your sides
Bring you close to the eye...
And let the moments before pour out every last drop

The spell has worked!
Mystery box, missing box
Now we are free...

I am grateful for...
Being able to take a zine class at Richard Hugo House! On a whim, I asked my dad to sign me up and now I'm going to learn how to bind books; I always do better with an instructor. Go dad!


Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

Speaking with Myself

Monday, June 8, 2009


In the last week or so, I have decided.
Yes, decisions were made. Big and small, long-term and short-term... but all in the name of rejuvenating my motivation. And, thankfully, it seems to be coming back (yippee!). So let's see what some of them are...

1. Junk food detox - currently, I am on day 3 of this; no junk food for a week in order to reset my eating habits. Willpower! Must... be strong...
2. Journaling - I realized, recently, that I don't need to pour out all my problems onto other people when I can have a relatively simple fix by writing it down. So, I have begun daily autopsies of my current state. Not for this blog, but my private journal (something I haven't done since 7th or 8th grade - imagine that!)
3. Note-taking & writing - writing has been sooo far away from me lately. Like, lightyears. After going to Write-o-Rama this weekend and re-awakening my love of writing down crazy random things and making zines (which are just perfect for miniature thoughts, haha), I realized I cannot just put down writing until I go to college. It's something to be done in the here and now! And, it is something to post up on this blog.
4. Bursting of stage fright - I took the opportunity to do some performance work at Write-o-Rama; needless to say, I'm out of practice. But, I believe that, after bursting my stage fright bubble with my grad speech, I have to memorize, internalize, and personalize it before I can find it acceptable. The nervousness is because I haven't worked with it yet. I haven't molded it into what I want it to be. So, that's my next step.
5. Stuff to do! - I made another, much longer, list of things to do. And it includes biking with my dad, cooking something daily, and a lot of other projects that will occupy me with the act of doing something. My biggest realization? Start now. I have been putting off many of these items because of petty reasons ("It's not summer..." "There are other things to do right now...") but what does it matter if I finish this book next Wednesday or in August? There are always new things to start later.
6. Explore Washington - belatedly, I want to explore my home state. With my boyfriend, with my friends, we will pass through the memories and create new ones before I go. (Come to think of it, it sounds fairly dreary when I say it that way...)
7. Returning to old passions - perhaps the most important on this list, I have decided to return to moments that I love but have chosen not to do. Writing is one, yoga is a big second. Then there are just other things that I haven't even thought about doing but know I want to - like knitting a project other than the squares, photography, making a collage, and re-learning how to Photoshop. All very important things that I seem to have let quaver along the way.

Time and time again, I have these realizations. Most of this list is hopeful in nature; I haven't yet done everything but definitely will work on it. I want to re-establish who I am and do stuff for me. School has taken that away from me, but it's not the only culprit. I have definitely let my steadfastness slide with the final weeks of school trickling down...

Countdown: 8 days left.
See you at the finish line!

I am grateful for...
This sentence: "I have sent you nothing but angels," said by God in the story
The Little Soul and the Sun, which my yoga teacher suggested when I asked her about how to control anger. You should read it; it can be found here: The Little Soul and the Sun

Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

Projects Wanted

Thursday, May 28, 2009


Please inquire within.

Today, when I came home, I realized... summer is going to be boring. I'll be in obvious anticipation of my entrance into college, but in the meantime, I definitely cannot just sit around and do nothing. I will honestly annoy myself to death with that - worst case scenario is actually the seasonal depression I feel during summer will return. And I don't want that!

So, instead, I must think of projects to do during the summer. The obvious ones are listed below:
- Beautifying J
- Reduce It (minimizing the amount of stuff I have around the house)
- Memory Collages (via digital photograph and real paper)
- Read (all the books on the shelf? done)
- College Blanket (less than 9 squares to go!)

But, aside from those, I need some creative ideas that might get me up and doing again! Let us brainstorm...
- NaNoWriMo (editing or start your version of the month with short stories)
- Learn to Cook (simple not baked goods stuff, something I've wanted to do forever)
- Craft Closet Bonanza (use all the stuff in there for something)

...I just ran out of ideas. Please help me!

Want to know how I broke out of boredom? Check out my DIY Interlude and Project x Project series to see the creative ways I eradicated the monotony.
Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

Cake-ish

Wednesday, May 27, 2009


Elissa came over to my house today and we baked a cake for the French party tomorrow (we took pictures before it's eventual demolition - it's supposedly a buche de Noel, mais il n'est pas tout parfait...de rien!)

Apart from that, today was spent mainly working on projects and watching boys yell at a television screen. Oh! And also listening to/watching a DUI Drill done by the Bellevue Fire Department. It was actually quite well orchestrated, with student actors who simulated a car crash and some very impressive speakers - though this was not the intended effect, it really made me want to write.
Personally, for myself, I will never drink, and I will definitely be the 'designated driver' should that be called for. But I definitely encourage these presentations and believe that it's really important to understand the consequences (on a side note, the one thing that got me really agitated was the screaming... for some reason I just can't take that).

In other news... I kind of started getting scared about college last night.
I stayed up for an hour, just sitting in my bed and completely freaking out about the future; I thought about how much I would miss my home and my parents and my boyfriend and... gah! I just forgot all the things that makes college great - like new friends, pre-college kids, the City, and amazing classes/clubs/sports. I was about to call someone and talk to them (in the middle of the night, I know), but then I realized. It's going to happen regardless.
So, I decided, it's useless to worry about the future because we can only affect the here and now. I breathed in all the positives I just listed about college and tried to breathe out all the negativity about change... Just breathing helped me calm down. I thought about how hard the separation will be, but, again, I realized that I can just call (or text or email) and those people will be there - it's been that way since I was little, why would it be any different? Besides, I finally remembered that I will be doing a lot of actual work in college, not just lazing around and missing people (surprise, surprise!).
I don't think this feeling is uncommon - in fact, I think it's way too common, and that's why I was shocked when I felt claustrophobic and scared. I was truly scared. But now, I just have to keep thinking one day at a time; we think too much in the future and do not focus so much on the now. Today is a miracle, tomorrow will be great, and the next day... well, I will make great. That is all I have to say.

I am grateful for...
Small signs of affection. Sometimes a little goes a long way, hehe.

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Memoirian Highlights: Prom!!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009


If you wondered why I was away for the entire weekend, just look at the title bar.
This weekend was supremely exciting! Exciting and exhausting and semi-sickening... guh. But now, all fun is completed and the work has returned. So, in one last ditch effort to procrastinate, here comes my Memoirian Highlight of prom:

Buyer's remorse and sweet-smelling soap drenched me the Friday before prom; I had attempted to ready myself for a girly care weekend but, instead, mistakenly bought expensive products with reckless teenage abandon. To make matters worse, a new Sidekick had arrived in the mail, only adding to my horrendous dilettante nature...
As I fell into a deep consumerism-based depression (shedding tears and making promises), I was reassured from all directions that I need only understand that
money is to be used and we can clench and move on. So, I breathed in a water-laden sigh and dozed off to sleep with the feeling of worthlessness still pounding into my chest.
***
Showering the next morning reinvigorated my sensibilities - hey, it isn't the end of the world, I declared. Smelling of warm vanilla rose and aloe vera, I plodded out of the bathroom in a pair of basketball shorts and sleeping shirt, ready to face a hair appointment and every horrifying makeup calamity I could imagine ("no, that's not burning your eyes, it's SUPPOSED to do that!"). Phoneless (because we were just learning how to use the Sidekick and my father had to proffer it, like a bewildered child, to the technicians at the T-Mobile store...), I trundled along old Redmond roads to Hairmasters for Raymond's trim job.
Halfway through the haircut, I decided curls were much better, and I was subsequently turned into the sexy hair beast with a little gel and a blowdryer. Hopping from the chair, I realized that I was quite late and hurried to call Natanya - only then did I find that she didn't know the time to meet. Calamitous from the get-go, this day would prove to be one of missed appointments and harried souls. Time to saddle up for the ride.
Fortunately, Abby needed about 30 minutes anyway, so when Natanya and I finally barreled into her house, we were completely ready for the makeup. While we were poked and primped, asked for dress colors and jewelry choices, scoured for makeup knowledge and nail polish use, Abby and her mom kindly instructed us on the motion of what
average teenage girls apparently know by instinct - I must admit, I was bewildered. My makeup came out silvery and mercifully not too thick (it also came late; we were already running late when we received a phone call from 'Manda that she was IN SEATTLE and not going to make it to lunch on time - whoopsies) while Natanya's was a little too much for her liking. After making some more hassled phone calls, I took a deep breath and decided not to be flustered. The day would play out as it would - nothing to worry about. Regardless, I sped home, tossed some things into a bag, and hurriedly plopped into my dress. No time to waste!
Josh, who had been "cooking in his car" outside, came in to pick me up and then (after quick 'hi's' and 'bye's' to my parents) we rushed off to Maggiano's for a little Italian lunch that no one was completely ready for - eating that early and then preparing to eat again was a challenge. However, when we arrived first, there were few people sitting around, and henceforward we were immediately seated. I munched on bread like a small rat villain until others arrived (Natanya and her date were also late, but not so late as Amanda and Justin - we shake our heads at them). When the food was finally brought, my half-size of fettucine alfredo and creamy potato chicken soup proved to be too much for me, and Josh had to finish off the second half. They were all excellent (and reasonably priced), however!
Through with the lunch and the speaking of attractive upper lips (Justin...) and Epik High (Amanda) and general laughter at the new guest from Liberty (Jacob), we left the restaurant to go our separate ways; Josh and I returned to my house for a pickup of scents and movies, then ventured to gather Kita and Mr. Waymon from the house down the street. They looked sharp; Waymon sporting pinstripes and Kita in his straight black tux. Josh and I looked quite sweet in our matching teal colors, and my silver makeup and nails (now not so bumpy after endless repainting moments) looked less out of place with a teal dress than a yellow t-shirt.
There was no time to lose as we climbed back into Josh's VW Jetta and sped off to Bree's house - paparazzi met us both at the door and once the rest of the group showed up. We were casually early, but others came just as the limo pulled up and we were literally steaming in our formal attire. The unusual amount of sun in Washington was promising - at least for the girls in dresses. The guys did not fair so well... All said and done, however, we were ready as the car pulled up to take us and our South American driver opened the door to a new experience. My first limo ride!
For most of the ride, I didn't even feel as if we were driving. We caroused in the back - Bree, Jacob, Natanya, Andi, Kelsey, Nicole, Josh, Kita, Waymon, and I - and played with the cups and drank the communal water... It was a fun ride down to the Botanical Gardens, where we were to get our pictures done. Once there, however, I must admit that there was some tension in finding the photographers. No one knew how to describe where they were, so, as if we were on an unnecessary manhunt through the jungles of flora, people lost patience and began to whine. Luckily, we found 'Manda, Justin, Ka-chan and the rest of their group relatively shortly, and the photography ensued! The bright glaring sunlight made our pictures more dramatic but also more squinty... oh well, our shining group was once again photographed from every angle (as well as Josh and I, and finally myself alone). Following this quick meet-and-greet, we barely saw Ka-chan at all for the rest of the night. Our group was lost in their own individualized party, and, as we clambered back into the limosine, we were ready to set the rest of the night ablaze.
The driver, who had been sleeping in the back at the Gardens, promptly took us to Bree's cousins' Seattle apartment - and proved he was a ninja in disguise along the way. The tragedy of failed air conditioning on one of the rare days of Washington heat had startled us to the point of asking the driver to fix it. So, without any of us noticing, he pulled into the divider on the freeway, ran back, and fixed the controls! We were completely taken by surprise, a few girls even yelling out that he had abandoned the car. We laughed the rest of the way into Seattle.
Once at the apartment, another frustration turned into peals of laughter. At the door, we were to be buzzed up by Bree's mysterious cousins. Yet the door, at first, would not open. So, finally, Josh pulled hard on the door, yelling at it to open - and it flung open with a crash! Laughing, we sprawled into the hallway and then into the elevator. Just as we thought we were safe, Bree told us. She didn't know the condo number. She thought what they had said was 410, so we journeyed to floor 4 to look for said condo. We knocked on the door, even noting that it might already be open. A kind old lady stepped out. Seeing us all in formal attire, she asked us what the occassion was, and we, all a little stunned, asked her whether this was the correct apartment. She informed us that we were perhaps mistaken and that there were no 400 apartments - this was room 10 on floor 4. Someone behind us suggested that maybe it was FLOOR 10, and we all collectively smacked ourselves in the face. Once again, a giggling trolley of teenagers trekked back into the elevator. And then we forgot Waymon. Nicole asked, and yet he did not appear. Yet, once on the 10th floor, we found that he had been there all along! Showing off his opportunistic chaps, he had taken an earlier elevator than the rest of the group. Needless to say, our raucous guffaws must have made quite the impression on Bree's cousins...
They're awesome apartment, overlooking the whole of Seattle, was stunning from the onset. We ate amazing chicken (which I mistaked for turkey, as is per my idiocy sometimes) and watched the sun set over the city... When tired, we sprawled out over the couch as Bree snapped photos (and consequently caused that cute picture above - thanks, Bree!) It seemed like the day was done, yet the night was just about to begin. Once again, our group was pictured and prodded, and we finally left the condo to cruise the city for about 20 more minutes before finally heading to the big event: prom.
Prom at the Space Needle was pretty amazing; the views were great, the desserts were delicious, and the circular nature of the dance hall was enigmatic and exciting. Unfortunately, it didn't feel like a dance.
Half the senior class showed up way later than expected, and by then the groove had been taken out of our little clan. I didn't even dance with Josh once (though we exchanged snide remarks about it) and we were all looking for people that hadn't shown up yet. We were interested to see Ms. Corso, O'Byrne in formal attire, Goldstein, and other various teachers, but that really didn't set the mood for dancing. So, instead, we hung around the observation deck and later mosied on down to Seattle Center for what I consider the best part of prom night - rides!!
I was a little tiffed that we weren't going to experience our last dance (literally and figuratively) in full, but it definitely wasn't going the way I had expected anyway. So, as it grew later, we headed down to Seattle Center and part of our group spread out to enjoy the little carnival. I didn't go on the bumper cars, but then we went down the huge inflatable slide (as we did when we were little kids) and around on the carousel, which got some awesome photographic moments. We also played Tekken (I was beat.. and sad) and tried our luck at getting stuffed animal prizes (what failures we are...) In general, once the limo returned to us, we were all tuckered out and ready to fall into a prom-induced sleep.
The limo ride back was somewhat of a blur... a lot of darkness and playing with the neon lights and etcetera. When we returned to Bree's house, there were cupcakes and other goodies to keep us awake for a few more hours, but once the movie choices got contentious and Josh had to take most people home, I began to fall asleep. The night ended shortly - and with no booze or drugs.
***
The next morning, we gathered around the last vestiges of what was a great party night. We noshed on the leftover foods (which was maybe not the best idea, in retrospect...) and played around because we had woken up 2 hours earlier than was predicted. Lighters were tripped into 6" long flames (haha, Jacob), phones were messed with, people were sat upon (once again, Jacob)... overall, the aftermath of a great evening had come and gone, and now we were all in a muddle of glittery makeup and hairspray. Overall, it was a good prom.


So, that very long entry was prom 2009 for us. Yippee! Everything worked out a lot better than when we were stressed out and planning it. Anyway, to continue with my posting tradition, here is the item I am grateful for.

I am grateful for...
Psychology textbooks. In which I can get lost, be a nerd, and actually perhaps understand our cognitive functions a little better in the real world.


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I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty...

Thursday, May 21, 2009


Today (and yesterday), I have embarked on the Make J Pretty scheme. It's not just for prom, though that seems like the most obvious reason. No, in truth, I have just found the urge to make myself pretty for myself and my new boyfriend [Joshka, if you were wondering - see Facebook or this picture, haha]. And so, I have set off into a bevy of woman-ish things that are not so reviling as I thought. Shock and awe, shock and awe.
I got my eyebrows and upper lip done by threading today... it was crazy because the woman just used a piece of thread to rake across the skin and take up the hairs (ouch! I definitely teared up, but it was surprisingly less painful than plucking and took less time). The results were fabulous!
I also have started using the curly girl hair method, which has kept my hair from frizzing up and going out like a wild horn beast. Yay!
Tomorrow, I am going soap shopping. For good stuff this time. Yesterday, I downsized my nail polish, hair accessories, and products (to the overture of Eminem, Pitbull, Carrie Underwood, and a bunch of other singers whose names I have no use in remembering), so now it's time to look for quality over quantity. It's a mission that has sorely bested me since the time of yore. On a related note, tomorrow I have to bite the bullet and buy some makeup so that Abby can help me do it for prom. Heathy has suggested that I should go to a makeup counter if I want to learn how to do the stuff myself (which I do now... since I feel kind of rude for asking someone to help me apply makeup, I would like to learn at least the basics) and I think I will do that sometime this week or next. Ah, womanhood...
My hair will be trimmed and done by Raymond, as usual, on Saturday, but before then it is a race to shave all the other annoying hairs (legs and armpits, for those who assumed the worst).
I spoke to Kita about his opinions on whether a girl should wear makeup and smell good and all of those traditional things, and I think his answer was quite promising. You don't need (and, actually, don't want) to be too made up or anything. For me, this is a good sign. It means, first, that all men have their preferences, but that I generally don't have to spend forever trying to be anything but hygienic [showers with good soaps, regularly getting haircuts and eyebrows done, basic makeup on good occassions...] And, of course, the most important thing is to keep in shape and not look like a slob. Gym time!
I believe that it took me just a little longer to understand the girl things than other people... perhaps I was resisting out of gender-biased fear. But now, rather than being one of the guys, I kind of feel like it's cool to be the girl with the guys. Makes sense, I hope.

Anyway, the picture that I took today was of Gerald [the socktopus that I tried to make a long time ago out of scrap yarn and dreams...]. It wasn't a particularly good picture, so I used my Photoshop skill to make it slightly more acceptable. Hoorah!

I am grateful for...
The ability to communicate my feelings. Even when that's not always a positive thing, just being able to tell someone else that I am feeling this way or that really benefits me and allows compassion in.


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Roadblock, Slump or Senioritis?

Wednesday, May 20, 2009


I'll take my pick. As foretold by the ancient seniors of old, I believe that my desire to do anything has just gone down tenfold. Scratch that. My desire to do things remains the same, but my motivation surrounding said things is waning. Following the days of my intense productivity, my "normal" mode has been to just laze around and watch online videos all day, surf internet links, and maybe read. But otherwise, there seems to be little preoccupying my life. And that gets on the nerves of my boyfriend.
So, what's a girl to do to regain motivation in an ever-increasing downward slide? I don't have a direct answer to this yet, but my listing has been helping me along. Coming back to the blog now, fortunately, makes me want to pursue the photography and writing portions of my life again (also, I got Photoshop CS3, so now I can be a computer nerd again, whee!) The other major goal that should happen before summer ends is the documenting of senior year and, on a larger scale, the time I've lived in this house. Memory projects have always been something of a preference of mine, and now that I'm leaving the house in a big way, I might as well put things onto paper and downsize the stuff in my room (goodbye desktop computer and TV; I knew thee well...)
And then there are the other tinier measures that I want to put into effect. I discovered (for probably the second or third time by now...) that I really am a girl [spiritual and trying to be healthy to boot] and I want to start dressing well, changing my health habits, and just learning about all the interesting cultural and genderal intricacies that surround being a Bengali woman.
I was talking to Charlotte yesterday (and she is probably on a plane to Israel or maybe even there by now) and we agreed that college is really the place where you find yourself more than anything. After receiving my suggested course catalog and filling out a bunch of new housing and medical forms, I realized that everything I do now is personalized. I will choose my classes, where I live (hopefully the Wellness Floor!), what clubs I'm in, and what I do with my time. Though we have that freedom now, there is still 'The Arbitors: Parental Units 1 & 2' and 'Homebase' which basically restrict where I'm sleeping over and whose company I keep. Soon, that will all change...
Anyway, I really want to stop annoying both myself and my sweetheart with all my talk of boredom. I think that my lack of motivation plus the fact that everyone else has something to do has pushed me into the annoying self-conscious corner. Must... fight... darkness! So, after finishing this post, I will sally forth through the jungles of boredom with a pen and a sword and perhaps we will find the Temple of Intrigue in the wilds of my mind. Enjoy the journey, enjoy the journey.

Oh! Also, in a completely unrelated, but pretty awesome, story: I found a way to wash/style my curly hair! It's actually staying fairly manageable and in attractive little ringlets. Thank you, curly girl how-to guide to non-frizzy hair!

I am grateful for...
Odd combinations. Such as the pho and cupcake that I ate for lunch today! Yum.


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I'm Back...

Tuesday, May 19, 2009


That was so cliche that I just might kick myself. Seriously.
But, other than my lack of creative entrances, I have realized that the pent-up feeling that I have been noticing recently? Yeah, it's a result of not writing/blogging for a while. And hence, I have (unceremoniously and completely crazily) returned.
As much as all that introspection has done me good, I think that I just need a place to relegate it that's not my own head. When I can come out and say all those ideas that I want, it's just a big sigh of relief. But, before I get into the new mind-storm, here are two articles that I think are fundamentally awesome and I totally want to reference all the time now:

A Guide to Happiness via Self Forgiveness
I'm Sorry, I Don't Know, I Can't...

They are both from the wellness site Think Simple Now, and that place has just a grand wealth of great articles. Anyway, after a particularly emotionally-wracking day, I think it was perfect just to recuperate by realizing that there are some simple things that can make you feel better instead of wallowing around in it. At the end of my post, I'm going to take one of the suggestions from the first article and post one item that I am grateful for.
You know what, I don't think I'm going to recap the past whiles. I just don't want to focus on the past and I want to breathe in some of those things that I've just not been doing (under the pretext of being sick, tired, bored, and/or lonely). So, I will just enjoy my slow return. Here it goes!

I am grateful for...
The ability to walk outside into a hailstorm... in spring.


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Outage

Saturday, May 9, 2009

I think that, this month, I am going to give myself an unconventional break from blogging. I am not feeling up to posting my life right now - I want to write it down and squirrel it away because nothing feels right to put out there. I never have the perfect, silly, stupid thing to say. So I'll wait till next month: meet me there!

In the meantime, check out some of my popular posts such as a photographic journey into the anime convention SakuraCon, an article about single-sex education, and a list some of my favorite places on the web.

Believe

Monday, April 27, 2009


This is such the more epic tennis shot than the one they gave me for sports photos! (Curse those fools! They cut out my multi-colored socks!)
Anyway, I have been reading a lot of blogs, articles, and things-that-generally-aren't-books in the past few days and realizing: they're just as valuable. I have not had the urge to pick up a novel recently; blogs, poems, Adbusters, National Geographic, and psychology texts like Brain Rules have been filling my radar. Enriching in a completely different way.
...
I think that I'm talking about all this stuff because I haven't been doing anything out of the ordinary. Other than the wayward dilettante affair with art-planning or lazing about the house, I have really just been playing tennis, going to school, and being the average kid that I am. It's nice, in some ways, but it also makes me think that what I'm doing in class is meaningless push-around before the exam. Nevertheless, we trudge onward.
Maybe I should just make my all-famous lists.

Things I'm Looking Forward To:
- College
- Graduation (oh! I wrote my speech draft, yay!)
- Getting a Sidekick
- Prom (once all this crazy planning stuff is finalized)
- Intramural all-year-long tennis (I have recently discovered that this sport, which I love, will keep me in shape forever)
- Finishing my college blanket (so huge and warm...)
- Taking apart my room to pack
- All the friends and family coming for graduation
- Growing my fingernails out (which is code for 'stop biting!')
- Sewing and crafting and knitting
- Coming back to the earth and the love of God
- Writing my next poem or short story
- You.

Anyway, after this moment of flappery, I think I'm going to do some light bio reading and nod off - another thing I've done for the past few days (not exciting, but definitely out of the ordinary) was to sleep in extra-much. I went to bed at 8PM last night and woke up at 3AM because of it. Then I fell back asleep and felt completely refreshed at 5AM when I really did get up. Ah... the strange life ness.

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Missions into the Future..

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Today has been a strangely slow day - which has made me anxious and reflective for most of it.
The anxiety probably stems mostly from my inability to write this graduation speech (agh!). I have all the material that I want to talk about; I think I just burned out on flow from the mind-numbing repetition of the school day. However, it's only 2:45pm, so I guess I can't really complain about a time deficiency and "other commitments."
The reflection (or perhaps, more accurately, introspection) has brought me a lot of thought on the future. Though it may be only the relatively near future, it's still starting to get in my head. Things like:

- Testing starts in 1 week! --> I have to review! And then I will work on my goal of 1 knit square per day during testing season.
- The end of spring sports season is in 2 weeks! --> I must go back to the gym/keep up my workout regimen.
- Prom is in 3 weeks! --> I have to call in for reservations of things TODAY! And then organize people. And then buy tickets. And then explode.

The last day of real "school" follows that on June 18th and then graduation on June 22nd (speech!). And then it's the summer and people are here and I don't really have to worry all that much for a while... just a lot of hanging out, working on stuff, finishing self-projects, and having fun! I'm still really excited to get my housing stuff - I want it soon! But nothing that I talk about is really in the here and now. Everything is preceding something, and I'm anxious/charged up to get there. I am really terrible at focusing.
Looking up but not in, as it were.

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More writing and stories are also available for your reading pleasure.

Read In Bed

Thursday, April 23, 2009


I actually found a way that I can read in bed without getting angry at myself - magazine articles!
Usually, when it is night and I'm not tired and all I can think about is reading, I don't do it because I feel like I shouldn't start something at night [it's some weird mentality thing..] But, last night, I had the "crazy" idea to pick up National Geographic and start reading the Hatshepshut article (I have not been caught up on reading lately - that issue was from last month!). It satisfied my reading palate and encourages me to read more at night! Hooray!
Aside from that, I am really debating whether I should go back to work on this weight issue of mine or whether I'm happy enough where I'm at. I am healthy, and I think that the issue now is just that self-confidence, goal-oriented thing that I wanted to avoid but got sucked into anyway. Ugh. I I am fine at 31" waistline and 130-135 pounds, but now I just want to be that "wee bit" smaller. It's saddening.
Actually, I think the more depressing part of it is that I'm just feeling as if I'm eating terribly. And that's something I want to reverse regardless of the weight thing. I don't want to eat chocolate and candies whenever I see them - therefore, I am going to go back on my regimen. Without the constant tracking and etc., but definitely back on the few-bad-foods program. Yay?
Life, love, and the pursuit of your dreams!
Tangentially, I wrote a small piece during some downtime in government relating to the Hatshepshut article. Sort of. I'll post it below.
We could be remembered; we could be forgotten.
Yesterday, as I turned the pages of
National Geographic, She-King Hatshepshut rose again from the pages. The smell of glossies and color ink, though unable to give the same olfactory insights as dust and myrrh, still resonated with her story. The words and color photographs raised her from the dead in all but the physical sense - this cross-dressing heroine from the anals of history.
As I turned to the first page of her article, her mummified horror opens the scene. Surprisingly, I am less afraid than in awe. Her face, just recently re-discovered on the floor of a forgotten tomb, holds a wizened beauty that makes me wonder where the social stigma of thin, pale women came from. Hidden in the pages of the article, Egyptologists and authors alike poke fun at the idea that she was described as a beauty to gaze upon when her corpse had the body more of a "wet-nurse" than a queen. I turn the page, scan the photographs of her statues, and espy her well-fed features. She is a beauty in her own right - and her power could match any pharaoh, best any man.
We are always fascinated by ancient exceptions. Reading Hatshepshut back to life brings me to think on my monologue - the colorful language of another historic female, Joan of Arc. These words are transcribed, preserved, re-written time and again. Yet they still have the power to surprise and delight. Why? Because, in that little space of the mind, we hope that we too will live on like these wonders, these relics that withstood death. And time.
But, for now, we are nobodies.


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More writing and stories are also available for your reading pleasure.