starting at the beginning

There is a range of notes, theoretically, that goes infinitely high and infinitely low. Even though this is true, we can not hear a large amount of them because of our limited auditory receptors. Also, there is an infinite amount of notes, theoretically, in between any two notes, or any half step. "How is this possible??" you ask. And then I answer:

Imagine the infinite amount of tones I described as a slide whistle, or a trombone, that is infinitely long. The range will never end, you can always make the note you play higher, or lower. Hypothetical situation: on that slide there will be a place where someone tells you is a C note. Then, they will let you know that to play a C sharp, you must slide up an inch. "If you slide too much, the note will be too sharp, and if you slide not enough, the note will be too flat." they say.

Pertaining to this, I have a question. Aren't those tones, that are between that C and that C sharp, still notes? Why do they not have names, why do we never use them? Why, out of all the ways one could divide an infinite stream of tones, do we divide them into octaves? Why do the note names, as a scale continues upward, repeat after 8 notes? Why, on a piano, are there only 12 note names? Just 12...

Is there actually something, physically, either in the sound wave or the way we perceive the wave, the "same" about a C in one octave and a C in the next octave. Musicians like myself are able to tell when given two notes in different octaves, if they have the same note name or not. How?? Have we just been trained, through years of hearing and playing music based on octaves to think that they sound similar; or do they actually, literally, technically, sound alike?

Imagine if our defined note names were closer together on the infinite slide. Our half step used to be C and C sharp, they were an inch apart on this slide. Now we have new note names--Z and Y--and they are only half an inch from each other on the slide. We used to go from C to C on our piano with 12 notes. Now, how about we only have 10 notes, from Z to Z.

Would anyone be able to make music out of this system, or would it feel so repulsive that we could not bring ourselves to understand or appreciate it. And if were too repulsive, then would this be because of our innate sense of music that we are born with (to think in scales of 8 and certain amounts of space between notes), or because of our learned sense of music from society?

my friend id

note: this post is not about the instinctual aspect of human thought, as theorized by Sigmund Freud.

Today, id told me something pleasing.

"id like to tell you something," grunted id. "im going to start checking my spelling more often. o.O"

Good for im!

playing doctor

My boyfriend's little sister is eight years old. I often play with her, whether it be house or tea party or hide-and-go-seek. Yesterday, she wanted to play doctor after I had pretended to cut open her skull and remove her brain.

She understands fully the line between reality and pretend. I asked her if she has had an x-ray before and she whispered "you mean in real life?", as if the pretend world before us would hear her if she spoke too loudly. She seemed more interested in the diagnosis and solution rather that the procedures, she would walk out of the room for more patients and tell me to finish the surgery on my own.

I was the doctor, she was my assistant. Her stuffed animals were our patients.

We had many common devices used in hospitals, improvised from objects around us. A stethoscope, a blood pressure device, a scalpel, a stapler, masks, gloves, a clipboard, and a cage for the replacement donor brains.

Mr. and Mrs. Dog came into my office and my assistant read me their problem from their paperwork. "They can't have puppies, they've tried everything!", she said. I was a little impressed at the sophistication of the scenario, but I figured she saw the very some problem on television somewhere. I was thinking I may have to let her down and say there is nothing we can do, if I wanted to avoid teaching her about the birds and the bees.

I contemplated giving Mrs. Dog some fertility drugs, pretending to reverse Mr. Dog's visectomy, suggesting different positions to the couple, or sending them to a sperm bank, but I thought that take too much explanation I didn't feel right giving her just yet. So I said there were some things we might be able to recommend to them, "but I think their best option is to refer them to an orphanage". She takes out 4 little tiny dog stuffed animals, and says that they have to keep the dogs who were sisters together. She lines them up and says "Let's see which one they like the best!" I tried to tell her that the couple could only afford to adopt one puppy, but I realized that making that decision would make her feel like life was unfair, so I said they would adopt all four puppies, and justified it in my mind by saying that dogs have litters of four or more puppies all the time.

A problem with playing doctor with an eight year old, is attempting to use as few medical words as possible, asking if she knows what complicated words mean, and having propmt understandable explanations of these words. I had to explain to her what a spinal chord was when she said the lamb's leg's "didn't work". Instead of telling her that the quadriplegic lamb had a near to none chance of regaining the use of her limbs, I said we could operate on her spinal chord.

After this point, I realized how hard it was to play this with her. I didn't know how realistic I was supposed to be. Do I tell her some things are hopeless? Can I ever tell her there is a high possibility of death?

She brought in some deaf and blind baby dolls for me to cure, and I said that I wouldn't operate on infants because it is a liability issue, and that it would be hard to tell if a baby was deaf, anyway. Then she picks up a monkey doll from the Dora the Explorer television show that says three different phrases when you squeeze it's belly. "He won't say anything else!", she says. I told her we'd send him to the psychiatry office on the third floor with Dr. Danny. (The room my boyfriend was playing video games in).

Another thing about playing with her in a pretend world which is supposed to be orderly and professional, such as a hospital or a tea party, is she behaves very well, is far more courteous than usual, and pretends to be an adult, saying things about herself which she admires in her role models, or saying that the things her real self does are bad. I was the pediatrician, and she was a mother of three infants. She said that her babies watch too much TV, and that they yell and scream when someone tries to turn it off. "They should only watch 3 shows a day, but they watch 10!" This is what she does in real life, she watches TV constantly. I then ask her, "What is their diet like? ...Um...what do they eat?" and she tells me how much candy and soda and "all the things that are unhealthy they eat" (just like her).

The pretend world is allowing her to be honest about what she does in reality, and what she feels bad about doing. It shows that she really does know when she is doing things she shouldn't be doing, and that she does have the capability of both recognizing it, and changing the way she acts to be more agreeable.

She just has to think she is playing for that to happen. That way, it's fun to behave.

Happy birthday, Bloggy!

Exactly one year ago, (to the minute!) this blog was born (see screen shot of birth on right). I introduced myself to my blog as it's caretaker and provider, I made sure no one would harm it by having a password that blogger said was "strong". I gave my blog a name that would make it successful, and a home by deciding it's URL. I dressed it up nicely in pretty colors with my chosen background and font colors, and I showed it to the world as my little blog.

My little blog has now grown up a bit, and I am so proud; it has accomplished so much in this year, and I see promising things coming from it in the future.

So far, my blog has been well behaved. Thankfully, it has had no inclination to participate in that "team blogging" thing that is so popular these days. The server has not failed, losing all of my entries, and for that I am thankful. I have not been stalked by creepy perverts through my blog (at least I think) and I have not developed Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from the long expanses of time rapidly typing stream of consciousness.

So thank you, Moderately Entertaining. You have thanked me for all I have done by attracting comments and readers! I really like that part of our relationship.

365 days, 100 posts. Is this a coincidence happening without my manipulation or have I busted my hump to meet this deadline in order for my blogiversary to be just that much more special?

Determine what you will.

In 100 posts (including the posts' titles, and also those quotes on the sidebar), I have written 36, 102 words. This averages to about 361 words per post. Also, keep in mind that several posts had minimal words and displayed a picture of some sort, so this is a lower average compared to an average of the posts who's main event is the words as opposed to the pictures.

If a picture is worth 1000 words, and I have posted exactly 103 pictures (including profile picture) to help explain, add to, enhance, or compose my entries, then this adds to 139,102 words for my 100 posts.

Averaged, I have done a post every 3.65 days. Every day I have written an average of about 99 words. (not including the 101,000 words for pictures OR the posts I have as drafts).

73 comments have been made (including ones made by myself) on this blog in one year. This averages .73 comments per post, and .2 comments per day this past year.

note: The fact that this post is the last of the hundred posts has been accounted into all statistics within this post.

"Up" review

Pixar's recent film entitled Up has gained much positive response from critics and viewers from a large age range. If have seen this movie or have no intention of seeing it then please read this. If you are planning on seeing it soon, then wait until that time to read this review. I don't want to make you think something and then have you resent the movie, I want you to formulate your own opinion and then disagree with me. It's much more fun that way.

synopsis: Boy and girl like adventure from a young age, they are married and have a wonderful life together. They have dreams of traveling to South America and having their house on top of Paradise Falls.Woman is old and dies. She gives her husband her "Adventure Book". The man does not want to go to a retirement home (and let the company take his property) because the house is something he deeply associates with his belated wife. Upon agreement to be taken to a home, thousands of inflated balloons through the chimney lift his house into the air and he is on his way to accomplish the dream he and his wife never fulfilled.

He is looking near the waterfall, but the balloons do not have enough inflation to bring him over the gap in the land to his destination. He straps the garden hose to himself and the accidental boy-scout stowaway, and they make their way over to the waterfall by foot. Along the way, they bump into a talking dog with a collar which allows him to speak his thoughts. The dog's owner is searching for an exotic bird whom has been following the boy and the man for a few minutes of the story. They make it to the waterfall. The man reads his wife's Adventure Book in the "stuff I'm going to do" section, and there are wedding pictures and pictures of their children and pictures of their house. She leaves him a note in the back: "Go have your own adventure. -Ellie"

The man promises the boy that he will keep the bird safe from the owner of the dog. The villain, the owner of this dog and thousands alike to him, tries to kill the man and boy to get the exotic bird. Irony: the villain is a famous TV/movie adventure star whom the man admired as a child. It all ends up great blah blah villain dies.

The good things:

1) The trip to South America shows the great lengths he goes in order to accomplish his belated wife's dream, and the balloons the great heights of his ambition. All this shows his devotion and heartbreak.
2) The boyscout enforces the "adventure" point of the story. How it can be frivolous and childlike and meaningless, be taken too far, and produce great reward and pride. He also serves as a companion to the man which keeps the story and the main character lighthearted throughout struggle and despair. The growing friendship in the story shows a progression of the main character from bitter and mourning his wife, to warm-heartedness and acceptance.
3) His wife's note shows that he did not need to fulfill their dream to please her. That they had their adventure, and it was a good one. It shows both that his want to accomplish this was a result of his sadness, and it allows him to realize this, and have peace with his accomplished life-long dream.

The bad things:

1) The fact that he goes and has his "own adventure" does NOT send me the message that he is getting over the death of his wife. In fact, it sends me me the opposite message that he is displacing his grief and sorrow into a want for more fun and near death.
2) His want to protect this bird is a sign of his desire for the boy's love. They want the character to seem as if he does this because of his compassion for the bird and not wanting it to be captured, but to me it seems that he is so lonely from the death of his wife, that he wants someone to like him. He goes to far too great measures to accomplish this.
3) This movie does not explain the reason why the boy wants to "save" the bird from the villain and why the villain wants to KILL them to get this bird. We have no idea if this man wants to kill the bird for dinner or for a coat from it's colorful feathers or for scientific observance or for a circus! They don't tell us anything, and it makes the entire struggle of "keeping it safe" seem stupid and unjustified.
4) The villain was on a quest for this bird for many years, just as the main character was on a quest to have a house in South America. The both had a goal, they both wanted it with all their heart. The protagonist achieves his goal, while the antagonist dies plummeting towards the jungle from miles above ground. WHY? Why do they NEGATE their own POINT of trying to accomplish your goals? Was what the villain wanted so horrible that he should DIE on his way?
5) The talking dogs. Oh god how I hated them. They made no sense, they were thrown in, they had nothing to do with anything.
6) The villain was someone that the main character admired as a boy. Are they trying to send the message that kids should not have role models? That adventure actually is evil? I don't see the point in having him be this person. I see opposite meaning in it. Perhaps they said it should be him for the shock of the reveal of character, and also the fact that creating a new character would be hard to do and feel insignificant. There is ONE way his character could work. And that would be that the main character feels that everything he has ever known (or admired) is turning his back on him. That just before he accomplishes his goal, things continue to get in his way. But he still yet deals with the villain after he accomplishes it, so it makes no sense in this context either.

My points:

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR HIM TO HAVE ANOTHER ADVENTURE! The Adventure Book showed him the adventure he had. There was no need. No need. His adventure was having his life with Ellie AND making it to Paradise Falls.

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR THE VILLAIN! He went against the "you can do anything you want to do" moral, as he died trying to achieve it. He distracted us from the reason the main character is in South America. There were already villains in this story. First, we had Man vs. Himself with his struggle of missing his wife, and this continues throughout the story. Then, it was Man vs. Society with the company wanting his property and everyone saying he should leave his house. Finally, it was Man vs. Nature as he flies though storms and makes his way through the jungle towards his destination. There was plenty enough villain in this story for me without an actual character to think is evil.

When they start the alternate plot line, with the talking dogs and the villain, the symbolism of the house and balloons, and his physical struggle in making his way there, and even the colorful bird is RUINED. They make all this beautiful imagery be taken completely literally. They use it as an excuse for violence and near death and excitement. The main character is fighting for something that makes no sense with his past wants, and that is not for pure "adventure", like his wife suggested. Her note in the book was not for him to endanger his life, it was for him to not dwell, and have fun. I can hardly call fighting for your life fun, I call it stressful.

I think a better ending would have been suicide off the waterfall after he reads the book. But the note from Ellie should not be there. But this would be the grownup version of the story, that's not really a good look for Disney.

Overall:

I loved this story. I liked how it addresses death in a child movie. I liked how the montage of his life with Ellie hints toward a stork delivering their baby, I absolutely loved the scene where he looks at the Adventure book on the waterfall (it made me cry). I liked the bird, I even kind of liked the first talking dog only because it annoyed the man so much. I really did like the movie until they introduced the villain. The movie got severely boring for me after that point, and I wished for it to end.

Also, the real title of this movie is "The Spirit of Adventure". The first few minutes of the movie shows these words several times, so I am sure it must have been the working title until they thought up the alternate plot line when Disney said "we should Disney this up a bit" and then it couldn't be called that anymore because that was the name of the villain's blimp and it would be blatantly stupid to have the point of the story OBVIOUSLY negated like that, rather than discreetly.

hopefully

this summer I will:

• finish that book I keep renewing
• check out other books and read them also
• buy my school books for fall
  
• go running and play soccer with my boyfriend
• make him do yoga
• do my laundry and not wear the same outfit for several days
  
• clean my room (and keep it in that state)
  
• swim a lot
• see many movies
• continue blogging
• have frequent outings and get-togethers with friends both long-lost and current
• remember to practice viola
• learn new songs on guitar
• see live music performances
  
• continue self taught music theory lessons with the internet and my keyboard
• construct daisy chains in the park and watch clouds go by while I lie in the grass
• have quality time with friends and family
• eat something other than top ramen on a regular basis
• not get dehydrated
• draw something, anything
• do the WASL testing I missed when I was sick that one day
• write something that I don't post on this blog
• camp, maybe
• take a dance class
• picnics
• throw birthday party

The school year is over. My final grades are decent. Well, more than decent. Actually, they are really really good. So good, it's going to raise my cumulative high school GPA. Raise it. =) So, good year it was. I am ready to relax for the summer, have my fun, and then start at junior college next fall with the college-in-high-school program. yay. Have a nice summer everyone, I'll keep you posted on my progress on these goals.

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind"

I will do my best to have this be the only post I ever do that is about Shakespeare. This being said, I have to cover all my Shakespearean history and all my thoughts on his work.

As a child, I don't know how young, my favorite VHS tape was A Midsummer Night's Dream, directed by Michael Hoffman, and I have been told that I watched it constantly. I suppose that I understood the plot or I would have not liked it much. Maybe I only liked the costumes of the fairies and the easily understood comedic elements of parts. Being young, I probably didn't fully understand the plots of any movies that were not made by Disney, anyway.

In 7th grade, English class required the reading of this play. I enjoyed the reading of it, and had fun with the small part of the combined roles of Cobweb, Peaseblossem and Mustardseed in the scene my group was assigned. Playing 3 different fairies at once, I found out a way to duck behind objects in the room to make it seem, at least I thought, as if I really was different fairies appearing from all directions.

That year, I met my best friend who is a Shakespeare fan and had been in her elementary school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream as Puck. Her favorite plays by Shakespeare, besides A Midsummer Night's Dream are As You Like It, and Twelfth Night.

I remember being taken to see Hamlet at some point many years ago. In 9th grade, English class had us read Romeo and Juliet. I really liked it. 10th grade, we read Macbeth. I really liked that too.

Last summer, my best friend once again starred as Robin Goodfellow as she had in 6th grade, this time in a production not tied with the school. She earned herself the front page of the local newspaper. Her performance was amazing, showing brilliant understanding and interpretation of the text, and letting her own personality, very fitting to the role, shine through in her manner enough for my personal viewing of the part be extremely comical.

Just recently I went to see the school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was not especially wonderful. I have dislikes of some of the acting styles of the regular students whom appear in the school plays and musicals. Some actors I was quite impressed with. Helena and Demetrius have been accused of having an offstage infatuation with each other, which made the kiss they shared near the end of the play quite interesting, play aside. Not to mention the acting of the two, which nearly stole the show from Puck, who was quite accomplished in her interpretation of character.

While studying Macbeth, English class watched a movie that explained why Shakespeare is a genius playwright. The plays were targeted towards the "groundlings", it said. These were the poor, uneducated people who paid only one penny to be admitted to a play, allowed to do this to fill up the space right before show time. Because the plays were written for the groudlings, the easily understood jokes and the catchy descriptive phrases were repeated in homes and therefore used for centuries afterward.

Shakespeare seems complicated because it is written in a language that we barely understand today. When we are able to finally understand the meaning of the words, it seems ingenious still for it's mastery of rhyme and syllabus*. After we get past this, perhaps even think it is stupid, there is still the matter of plot. Maybe the meaning of the words that is being used to show the plot seems simplistic and exaggerated, which is offsetting when trying to extract what is happening and why, but the meaning of what is happening, and the way it describes life is intriguing. These plays may have been written to attract approval of an audience, but when analyzed, the literal actions of characters explain and question human nature and and thought.

If the obvious moral or idea that is shown from the play is only how deep the meaning goes, I am not sure. For me, it is often hard for me to even get this far with these plays when I have to go through the steps of even understanding what they are saying and who is who.

Anyway, that is all I have to say on the matter on Shakespeare.

* note: not a real word in this context

fundamental jazzaversary

The Edmonds Jazz Connection was satisfying as it was last year. It was a treat for this event to coincide with my and my boyfriend's 6th month anniversary for it gave us an excuse to spend the entire day together, but also because I wanted him to experience something that he knows I love, but knows nothing about and does not understand why.

We started off the day at 10am in the Combo venue. My boyfriend sat bored and gazed with envy at my brother's active DS. I suggested he focus on the different musicians or close his eyes or tap his foot to get into it but he just remained looking sad and bored while i nodded my head and grinned at the talented performers. It was worrying to me that the entire day would be a bad experience for him but I thought maybe he would find the big bands more engaging and understandable.

At the big band venue, he liked a few slow balled songs. But whenever the tempo or dynamics increased, he would clench his hands to the arm rest and his leg would shake uneasily. It was quite extreme also, I was amazed and concerned but somehow not insulted. Big band isn't my favorite part of jazz, but it doesn't make me tense up. I was astonished. I couldn't really wrap my mind around the fact that jazz, of all things, was making my boyfriend extremely edgy. I had noticed before that all his favorite music is low key and mid to slow tempo, but I didn't think fast and exciting music would be this disturbing to him.

I stroked his arm and took deep breaths to instruct him to relax, but it was not helping him that much. I think he really dislikes the sound of trumpets, for whenever they would play he would tense his entire body. I admit that jazz is a little offsetting sometimes with it's sometimes unpredictable patterns and turns, but I associate that feeling of being on the verge of something else with a feeling of peace, not noises that you can't control which are scary and threatening.

I started to realize that the reason someone would feel edgy was because they don't understand the music. They don't understand how to tap their foot to it or count it or what chord progression will obviously happen or what noises are coming from which instruments.

I was softly tapping my hand with the music on his leg to help him get into it but he didn't understand that's what I was doing. At a song which had a rhythm resembling a heartbeat, I tapped on his chest. He asked "That's my heartbeat?" as if I had felt it and I was showing him. I looked at him and realized he couldn't tell that I was tapping to the music. He has trouble clapping with music and he can't really tap his foot without watching someone else do it first to a song.

It mystified me. I had always been able to dance and do musical things intuitively. And with musical training I have gotten to the next levels of understanding.

We left the venue and I was relived to see him relax a bit. We headed to the vocal jazz venue because I hoped that would feel more soothing to him. On the way there, I starting teaching him about simple music theory. I told him about counting, and that if a song is in 4/4, that you will count from 1 to 4 and then over and over again. And that in jazz, and also reggae, the emphasis of the count is on 2 and 4. This confused him a lot, so I demonstrated with the song "Mary had a little lamb." Once, while snapping 1 and 3 and singing normally. And again, while snapping 2 and 4 and singing with those emphasis. He didn't understand it, but he did say that he could tell there was a difference. I had him snap and say "1, 2!, 3, 4!" He got the hang of that.

In the vocal venue I took out a little (very little) composition notebook. I wrote a few things down for him, distinguishing the difference between a beat, and a rhythm. A woman next to me asked "ooh what's that? A composition?" It was a whole note and then two half notes on a staff with no lines with 1, 2, 3, 4 written above it. Crappy composition if you ask me. But the funny thing was that it was in a composition notebook, which she did not know and I realized the hilarity of later. I suppose it was a composition.

I once again tapped my hand on his leg, and this time I said "2, 4, 2, 4" once in awhile to him if he looked over. He said he liked the vocal a lot better than the other two styles. He started tapping his foot on tempo, on beat. I was so proud.

We headed to the combo venue again after a bit, and I told him more about music. And the more I told him, the more he asked. He is a quick learner, and he asks good questions, so it went along well and he learned a lot. Outside the building we sat on a bench instead of going inside, he didn't feel like listening more yet. I took out my trusty tiny composition notebook and started scribbling staffs and pianos and note names and definitions while I explained everything.

In the lesson he learned the applied definition and definition of beat, rhythm, percussion, measure, note, tone, clef, time signature, chord, key, interval, and tempo. I didn't have time to tell him about harmony, which is quite fundamental when listening to a band or choir. But impressive, huh? He asked me very good questions, like "how many notes are there in a beat?" To which I demonstrated the different note values and their notations, and explained that you can have between 0 and as many as humanly possible. I drew a piano to show him a chord and how to make a chord major or minor. And I showed him the three clefs and what this means. I feel quite proud of myself, but he really is a quick learner. I taught him how to read the wine blessing in Hebrew 10 minutes before Seder on Passover.

When we went into the combo venue again, and he didn't seem as bored anymore. And without my help, I saw him mouthing counts. Yay!

6 times 7

Why was it, that upon the realization that it would be impossible to calculate the immensity of the universe, mathematicians concluded that it must be infinity large?

I know, I know, there are many scientific and logically deductive reasons for coming to this conclusion other than what I will soon say, such as the theory of an expanding universe, and black holes; but for the sake of argument, let's look past these for the moment and assume that the infinite universe is an idea that was concluded without much factual evidence.

If we have no knowledge of when, why, if something ends, or what is beyond it, do we have to view it as infinite? Because we have no reason to think otherwise, and no evidence, we have to tell ourselves it is unmeasurable, and consistently the same of what we know already, but forever. We do this to cope with not knowing what is beyond.

Everything in our literal understanding has an end. An individual life, food, a ruler, a song. Why is the universe, a literal thing (or rather, a literal everything), clumped into the same category as ideas and ideologies such as God, numbers, and love, which usually have no end, and are therefore called infinite in many circumstances.

The universe may end! It is said that it is hard to grasp the thought of infinity. But really, I think it is the opposite. Infinity is hard to explain rationally and prove, but the thought is simple: never ending. The idea of ending has to be explained, and is not able to be accepted if it cannot be explained. We feel that we must know everything to have peace with ourselves. As a result, if we think that the universe goes on infinitely the same way that we see now, then we are theoretically not missing out on knowing how it ends, or anything within it, that is not in our sight.

We just don't know what the truth of the question is. We don't know how far it goes, if it ever does end, or what might be differing from what we assume is within it.

This being said, is it better for one to have peace with a likely false idea, or for one to spend the time to accept what they can not know?

teachers

A thing most of the human race has in common, is the fact that we have all been students, and we still all are students. Not including the informal teachers in everyone's life, over a lifetime people have many many teachers in school and to learn skills. In my lifetime I have had approximately 40 school teachers thus far.

Because everyone has had teachers, I am sure I am not the only one who has thought about what way to approach thought about their teachers. It is respectful to not think about their personal lives, and only care about the information which is being presented to you. You are allowed to hold respect for them, look up to them, or dislike them for their teaching style. It is not thought of as respectful to dislike them for their personality, refer to their personal lives, point out or think about their personal faults or fears or insecurities. Under my experiences, in high school and below, it is not heard of to think of your teachers as human beings, or analyze anything about them. We assume our instructors do not have feelings, do not have lives, do not have views different from what they are told to teach. This being said, is it wrong to think about these things?

Lately, I have been able to view my teachers in a different way than I usually have. More recently, I have the tendency to understand that my teachers are not perfect and just beings, nor is their entire life and love the classroom and the students within it. I find flaws and personal behaviors of teachers very interesting. Most students view these tendencies as reason to like or dislike the teacher, which effects if they want to learn or not, whereas I use it as a way to understand the person who is teaching me, and how it effects their teaching style.

My current math teacher, I before thought was mundane, and overly prone to long pauses between phrases of boring content. I now realize he is purely a perfectionist, making sure every painfully simple statement and equation he writes or says is completely precise. He is also very patient and friendly. I thought he actually enjoyed boring me to death, but all he is trying to do is not move on until everyone understands. Although he enjoys humor from time to time, he does not take kindly to anti-intellectual behavior such as not doing work or not finishing homework. He says "This is unacceptable" and shakes his head during this statement quite often. Unfortunately, I cannot sympathize with his character on this matter because I am student who understands the content of the class with ease. I find it comical to a point where I have to repress signs of comical influence on my face when he gets very serious about people needing to be focused in and about his class. This is because it is hard for me to imagine a universe where that was a class I really had to "buckle down" in. I'm not exactly sure how he can say it with a straight face. Then again, it shows he is taking his class as seriously as his students should that will allow them to pass the class, and I should admire this.

Regarding his sense of humor I have a story of an obnoxious comment I made during class! Scoring 105% on every test in this class, he knows that I understand the concepts without much explanation. One day, as I stared into space during the lecture about congruent triangles, I noticed a term on the projection with a definition that we were expected to copy into our notes which we would at some point use during a test. (Because I never take notes, and because attaching notes to our exams earns a few extra credit points, I have been attaching the same page of notes to every test which I took very close to the beginning of the year. I think I have the formula for the circumference of a circle and the definition of a supplementary angle on this paper.) Out of boredom I read the large projection on the wall which reads "right triangle: a triangle with a right angle". In response to this display I make a face resembling a capital o followed by a period, followed by a lower case o. Then, I almost choked on my own saliva as I fought not to attract so much attention to myself as I resisted the urge to laugh my as off. The teacher dismisses us to a private work time for that night's homework and I raise my hand as he strolls through the classroom. With a determined spirit for my wise-crack, I threw on an intensely quizzical and confused face, and I said the words "Mr. Taylor?" in the whiniest voice I could. When I saw his recognition and attention as he made his was towards me I questioned "What's a right triangle?" with overly believable inflection. I remained in that quizzical expression while he repeated my question and glanced at the projection. I'm not sure if it was my cracking face that gave it away in the unbelieving that he actually thought my question was sincere or the fact that he remembered my usual instant understanding of the curriculum, but he started to smile, realizing my severe sarcasm of the question. I laughed, asking if we had not been using right triangles since the beginning of the course and had I not learned that fact as a 9 year old. He confirmed this fact, but said it might help the students to have the definition.

Another teacher of mine, I before thought was eccentric and comical. I now see that he truly is obnoxious, impatient, and selfish. He takes measures to humiliate students in front of the class to make a cheap joke. He will do anything for the class's laughter and approval. He has no wife, as far as any of us can tell. And he surely has no children, he has spoken of many members of his family. It's not fair to judge or question why this is; it could be regarding fertility, his orientation, his mental stability or personal issues, or his tendencies. I'm not suggesting anything, I don't really have any evidence towards any of those options, but sometimes one wonders. Also, he rarely allows people to go to the bathroom. Ultimately, it depends how much of the class is listening when you ask, because the more people it is, the funnier it seems to him to refuse their request.

Other than this though, I find him quite reasonable. Even though I think it's funny when he tells the class something general on a topic I know quite a bit about, and understands it so briefly and obscured that it is almost wrong, I think he has a way with stories and comedy that engages his students into the class. These stories have nothing to do with the class content, but I won't complain about that. If anything, I respect him for being less uptight about the work he is supposed to be doing.

Point...point...I'm sure I had a point at some point in this point. Er...I mean post.

Right. The question is: How helpful, how important, how appropriate, and how easy is it to see the person behind your teacher?

bloggy look at what i made!

Not executed as well or ending compared to my previous trippy flower-inspired depiction, but the idea behind it is more important that the effectiveness of the art itself. At least that's the explanation I'm sticking with as long I have this piece under my possession.It is supposed to represent the overwhelming and startling power of nature. Those flower-like things are producing those giant globs of colorful who-knows-what and also the haze surroundng them. Also recently, I experimented a bit with charcoal and created a few minimal sketches of relatively simple objects in my room.

idea logic equivalence

All ideas are equally valid and logical.

Allow me to justify.

An idea only seems complicated to some because their preconceived knowledge before hearing the idea was different or less than the person who came up with this idea.

Allow me to explain.

If I were trying to explain an idea I had about music to a person who had no knowledge or experience of the such, they would not be able to follow my reasoning to explain a very logical step, for me, from my preconceived knowledge to my epiphany. The more I tried to explain, the more terms that they did now know would have to be used, and the more they would have to learn in an instant and they more confused they would get. They would be so focused on the new ideas I have presented already, that the simple focus idea would make no sense to them. To a person with similar or superior preconceived knowledge of music to mine, would be able to understand my logic without any explaining on my part. I would just say "Oh man, I JUST realized that a C# minor chord is the same as a Db minor chord!" and it would be instantly understood and i would possibly even be ridiculed for the obvious nature of the fact.

This being said, it is just as equal a step of logic to go from C# minor chord is the same as Db minor chord as it is for a four year old to realize that sentences start with a capital letter. Perhaps it is not on the same level of knowledge, as measured by what should be known in our society early on, but the interval between the state of knowledge before the idea and the idea itself is equal with these two instances.

In fact, an idea is still just as logical, and therefore justifiably valid under the circumstances, even if the ending idea is accepted false under common knowledge. In other words, it is not the person's fault they came to this wrong thought. If you obtained the same preconceived knowledge as them, it is probable you would come to the same conclusion from the given pieces of information.

One thought leads to the next. You start as a baby and you gradually learn. A baby doesn't have ideas about quantum theory, and nor does a quantum theorist learn what a spoon is. But under the circumstances, the two new pieces of knowledge are equally difficult and logical to go from one idea to the next in finding out facts of the universe.

There are exceptions, of course, to my original statement. There are some who guess outlandish hypothesis and then try to prove these things: causing them to work backwards from the idea and thus not following a completely logical and equal jump of logic compared to someone else before making that outlandish hypothesis. But still yet, even in that instance, there must have been something logical which triggered this idea, some wide variety of preconceived knowledge which was not present in any other person to have this seemingly impossible idea. Therefore, ideas are always logical.

Even if one claims or is a assumed to be being completely random, they really are not. It is completely logical and it only takes a similar preconceived knowledge database or a high intellect to follow the flow of thought from one idea to the next.

This is how groups of people can have conversations that you cannot follow. They have had an experience in their lives that was similar, or had an experience that was had together. This means that between ideas expressed with speech, the same amount of thought is mutually and automatically inferred and interpreted, so that the next idea expressed, by the same individual or another, does not seem random at all. This is what people call being "on the same brainwaves". In a literal sense, it is actually partially true. Granted, it would be difficult to find someone who always thinks the same things as you, always, in the exact fashion; and you can't take that phrase to mean you are sharing the same wave (but creating similar ones); also I am not entirely sure if a "wave" is an accurate scientific way to describe ideas; but as I said, in a partial almost possible literal sense, it is true.

In conclusion, my hypothesis is that all ideas everyone has, at any time, in all history, false or true, with no regard to the sophistication of content, are all equally justified and logical to be thought, and all made with the same amount of logical thinking.

in a desperate effort to explain

Many of my posts are efforts to define myself by what I have experienced, what I spend my time with, and what my preferences and thoughts about everything is. I try to describe who I am somehow with a compilation of seemingly random things that hopefully will give this sense of "me" some meaning.

That statement started as an observation, and ended with some melancholy feeling, in all honestly.

There seemed an insufficient amount of documentation for myself. I seemed to often forget or disregard these things about myself which would seem obvious to anyone else, or are key aspects to how I behave and what I like. I often forget my fears, I rarely see my normal facial expressions, and I dared not analyze my doubts and emotionally disturbing feelings. All I wanted to do was feel better and have people take me for who "I" was, whoever that was. Now I want to know, remember, and apply all this to my life so that I do not feel so lost. If someone is taking me for who I am, I'd like to know why. And if I like someone, I'd like to recognize that they actually are complimentary to who I am. And to do this, I need to know who I am. It's a necessity of life.

Perhaps this obsession for self analyzation began when I realized there was no one who knew everything about me, including myself. If there is one thing I need to know in this life it is who I am. For the more I know, the better my life feels. The less obscure and surreal my decisions seem to be, and the more I am comfortable speaking my mind, for I know what my mind actually thinks.

There is nothing I would love more than a few short words to sum up myself. I'm not sure if there is an end to the things that could be said about me.

This is not to say that I am generic or that everything could be said about me, or that everything said would not be completely contradictory or nonsensical. A lot of things could be said. This is all. Often I try to think about myself with a grouping of things that hopefully, barely anyone else has also:

I prefer washing my hands in cold water, spending most of my time in socks, and have acute Arachnophobia. Canned pears are about the greatest thing in the world. I have to fight to not spend the majority of my time doing very mindless and tedious things like sharpening pencils and peeling labels off my possessions. I'm Jewish. Usually I wear either loose braids hanging in front or a side ponytail hanging low in front. My sense of humor is almost normal, finding the most subtly offbeat, coincidental, or awkward things the most hilarious. I get anxiety before asking for direction towards an item in stores from employees, and I rehearse concise and respectful language before speaking. When I was younger, I must have had a slight case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, for I insisted on keeping the movements on either side of my body even. I had a fascination with sex long before I was supposed to know about it, and long before I actually did. I started wearing glasses in 4th grade. I never had braces. I was never stung by a bee. I hate American cheese. My boyfriend bought me a locket this past Valentine's Day. Autumn is my favorite season. Ethnically, I'm mostly Dutch. I like foreign films. I like interpreting art. There are some mechanical things that involve wheels which I find ingenious beyond measure. My favorite color is purple.

How many people do you know that all that is true about? Hopefully none =/

music appreciation

I like quite a few genres of music. My musical taste and education began with a fundamental Classic Rock submersion. Excluding any music heard in the Jewish Renewal Synagogue, my dad's large collection of CDs and the radio in the car crafted my early perception of what music was. Modern Rock/Pop genre in the 90s remained part of my diet well into the 2000s as well as the classic rock which I still listen to today.

As I began gradeschool, I was introduced to more bubbly, girly pop. The boy bands and Britney Spears influenced singers of the age I took a liking to, and I remained in this phase for quite awhile.

In 4th grade I took up viola in the school orchestra; although I am sure this did not give me much real classical music learning and appreciation until much later, after years of playing the instrument, when I had the skill to play famous and interesting pieces (as opposed to "Fiddles on Fire").

Late 6th grade and early 7th grade, I gave into peer pressure and attempted to get into R&B popular at the time. This, thankfully, was a very short phase.

I quickly turned to emo and whiny Alternative Rock, seeming as the only flow of new music despite the mainstream genre I had just rejected. It was a nice change of pace, but it was lacking something; something meaningful and substantial.

I got into Jazz. How? I have no idea. My father had always praised Blues for it's predictable and lovable chord progression, and Jazz is the next step up. I was tired of seeking depth of music solely in lyrics. Pop annoyed me with its relentless 4/4 time and major keys. The utter simplicity of melody and predictability of arrangement bored me to death.

Along the way, through all of the music discovery, I have also enjoyed listening to genres such as Reggae, Electronic, Latin, Folk, Disco, Funk, and Techno, in addition to the main diet. For the novelty but still enjoyment, I have listened to things such as Jpop, Celtic, Trance, Medieval, New Age, Surf, and Polka.

I appreciate music because it is something other than language that expresses meaning and feeling. And there are a few aspects of Rock and Pop that all of my favorites seem to have in common. Some things that when hear I want to jump up and down and say "Yes! Yes! Good song!"

• many parts and melodies, so that I am able to focus in and out on specific parts

• a verse melody that can be used simultaneously with the chorus melody and sound intricate and complimentary
  

• an opening riff that "tricks" you about what key the song is in with an accidental. In other words, making the song sound as if it were going to be minor and really ending up major, or vice versa.
  

• changes of chord between melodic phrases, so that we can hear the shift in feeling rather than being consumed by the melody and lyrics wholly
  

• a verse and chorus and bridge that blend into each other so well that you can barely decipher if or when one ends and one begins. Flow and ease of music is important, and making it seem as though it was not manufactured or constructed in a formulaic manner, but thought of and written.
  

• changes of sets of chords with unchanging melody. This gives a different feel to the same idea of the song, and it is impressive to make notes fit into chords in different ways.

• melody which is uncomplicated but covers a wide range of notes in an interesting way
  

• melody that does not adhere to the rhythm of the chords. Phrasing being overlapped through the bars, or being spared with interesting (but not unsettling) choice of beats.

• change in dynamics

some things to ponder over

A usually snotty teen who talks back to la maestra and talks constantly and loudly (en inglés mind you) was being slightly more sincere than usual, but yet still got chewed out for sarcasm by la señora. I overheard her speaking to the girl behind me regarding the teacher's misconception of the connotation of her response.

She said, as if she had hit a stoke of genius, "It's weird...how like different words, when you say them, it makes them think you're sayin' it like mad or something. You know what I'm sayin'?" In her jumbled, stuttering, fragmented, discombobulated speech, she had the beginnings of a coherent thought-- a valid, thought-provoking idea. To reiterate it; word choice causes certain inflections in speech to be assumed of, regardless of what the tones actually were. The assumed inflections depend on culture, the feelings and predetermined expected attitudes of the listener towards the speaker, and the precision of the words used (whether they could have varied meanings). And because inflection has such an impact on the meaning of phrases, an entirely innocent statement can be taken as being said in a negative manner.

Language is such a delicate tool. Sticking to formulas and learned phrases are the key to learning and developing and surviving, but yet it can lead you to trouble. If you can only express an idea in one set of words, what should you do if that set of words fails to be comprehended in the correct manner or at all? What should you do if you want to describe a unique idea to another?

Language is the most useful thing on the face of this earth. It is how we communicate our ideas. What are our ideas? Some electrical waves running through some goop and flesh beneath our skulls? I don't know all the mechanics of the brain, but this seems an accurate approximation. Language makes sense of this thought, this idea, and specifies it to one core concept for everything that is said. This makes it understandable to another entirely different being whom has most likely had different experiences and learning process and rate than you, and whom has most definitely had thoughts vastly different from yours within their lifetime. And yet, we can make them think something, something that they would have not thought had we not said that, by exerting some sound waves or squiggling some characters.

And yet, as proved in this situation, it is not always as effective as we would want it to be. It is often more reliable on what is expected to be heard, what is formulaic to be said, what is able to be understood in normal setting, and exactly, specifically how it is said. Perhaps normal, conversational language gets in the way of our ability to learn "telekinetic" communication, or communicate by way of naturally obtained body language, facial expression, hand gestures, and grunts.

The fact that this girl had this idea, but could not express it very well, shows that at least to some extent, intellect and comprehension is not dependent on expression and literacy. I am quite convinced that everyone has ideas such as language and it's faults, this girl certainly did. Perhaps our raw thought is the same, which she implanted in my brain though her language, but she can simply not specify on what it is because of lack of vocabulary or understanding of her own ideas.

ESTJ

I took it again. But this time, I got a different result. I suppose I have changed.

sound documentation

Soon after waking, I had the bright idea to document my audible experiences for a day. After I realized that today was as good a day as any, I started jotting down everything that I heard. It took concentration. I had to open my ears, making sure not to discount any sound I usually ignored, tuned out, or simply did not notice. In my experiences, the quietest sounds are the most fascinating. I encourage you to try the same for a day, and perhaps attempt the same for smell, mental feelings, touch, dialogue, inner monologue, or anything else that strikes your fancy. Focus on your senses and your world will become a little most interesting. So for those who care at all, here is what my ears managed to notice and my brain managed to remember and describe for the day in almost chronological order (without repeats):

• man talking (tv)
  
• orchestral music (tv)
• commercials
• blanket rustle
• futon creak
• ceiling creaks (upstairs neighbors)
• something heavy drop upstairs
• click of mouse
• tap of fingernails against various objects
• wrist crack
• toilet flush
• running water
• coffee grinder
• cupboard shut
• plastic bag rustle
• dad cough
• dad speaks with incredulity, then enjoyment, then annoyance
• I mumble
• dishes clatter
• footsteps on tile
• footsteps on carpet
• swish of various things against other things
• refrigerator open/close
• sighs
• breathing
• knock on door
• gurgle of coffee maker
• door open/close
• bending spiral notebook
• pen scratch on paper
• scratch skin
• squeak of chair wheels
• dad mumbles
• brother speaks
• computer whir
• gulp
• pen drop on paper
• door squeak
• rattle doorknob
• light switch flip
• clang of toilet seat going down
• phssst of paper tearing
• rattle of toilet paper
• rattle of the toilet "pressy thing"*
  
• plastic cup hit with toothbrush
• mouse picked up and placed down
  
• tooth brushing
• water swishing in mouth
• brother coughs
• brother burbs quietly
• brother scratching head
• woman speaking (tv)
• paper rustle
• I/brother laugh simultaneously
  
• dad laughs
• typing
• brief low buzzing from outside (plane?)
• chair squeak
• sniff
• squeaky mouth sound
• I clear my throat
• I yawn
• swoosh/scratch of combing hair
• underwear snap
• zipper
• belt clink
• keys jingle
• suction of pen cap
  
• suction of deodorant lid
  
• sound of my love's voice =)
• chewing grape
• my love laughing =)
• my love coughing =(
• jing of metal being hit
• sizzle on the stove
• fan above stove
• mouth click
• shoulder cracking sound
• glasses fold (snap snap)
• toneful clang of pan
• toneful scrape of pan
• drip of water
• phone ring
• beep
• koosh of koosh ball
  
• locket clink
• I say "Ah! Fuck!" in distress
• I cough
• Dad whines/yells my name.
• I hum "Buffalo Soldier"
• I sing "Buffalo Soldier"
• microwave door open/shut
• microwave running
• beep of microwave
• coffee being sipped
• scratch of grape vine against strainer
  
• flipper hitting pan
• dad lecturing
• brother yelling
• dad ranting
• sliding door open/close
• woman speaking
• potatoes chewed
• shoe lace casing hitting against shoe
• car starting
• car sounds of accelerating and decelerating
  
• classical music on radio
• car doors open/close
• turning signal
• footsteps on concrete
  
• pouring water w/ ice
• car locking click and beep
• seat-belt pulled/retracted
• seat-belt click on/off
• ice rattle in paper cup with hand movement
• crunching popcorn
• movie previews
• movie: "Frozen River"
• sneeze
• cup squeak
• background talking murmur
• broom against carpet
• soap disperser dispensing
• footsteps on gravel
  
• sliding shoe on pavement
• distant whistle
• ka-chunck of stepping on manhole
• Indian man speaks in English
  
• young boy whines in specific unknown Indian language
  
• Indian music (tv)
• peeling a label
• computer start-up
• air from chair "shh"
• plastic buckles click
• skateboard on pavement
• trunk click open
• "chunck" of trunk closing
• key slid in ignition
• jazz music on radio. specifically "I can't make you love me"
• young man speaks
• shhh from distant cars on highway
  
• squawking birds
• viola strap squeak
• minor buzzing from light fixture
• floor creaks under feet
• different, louder shhh noise
• woman shushing me
• Myself singing
• snapping
• ambient music
• various rock songs
• men and women speaking Spanish (online homework)
• dishwasher click on
• pouring dry dishwasher soap
• glasses clink
• dishwasher running
• mom speaks
• voice echoing
• man speaks
• box of oranges dropped on table
• various other music from 5 star list
• mouse scrolled
• alarm clock button clicks
  

*In search of a word for the "pressy thing" on a toilet I consulted my boyfriend, Danny. I suggested "trigger", and dared for him to come up with a better word. He commented that this made going to the bathroon sound "dangerous and exciting" like a gun. To which I answered, "Isn't it already? You have a loaded gun in ur pants, Danny, gotta pull the trigger."

self portrait

No, not metaphorically, I really did attempt this in the literal sense. Sitting in front of a mirror, I spent an hour trying to sketch myself. Possibly, it says more about the way I view myself than it does how artistically talented I am. I really am a wannabe visual artist. Although I think I do have some natural talent in the matter, I rarely have the patience or overwhelming desire to spend a time fussing over lines and shadow. It's not entirely amazing...but there are aspects to my facial structure.

And with it, a picture of myself more alike to what I have drawn than any other I own.

Attempting to draw is always such an enriching experience for me. First, because or the rarity of the activity and also because of the strategy and mindset so differing from other mentally strenuous things.

When I begin to draw, I always have anxiety in a sense. I don't want to start off the sketch on the wrong foot, the wrong line, the wrong original reference point. The first line is always erased 20 times or more. Obsessive? Yes. Even moreso seeing as how that line is usually changed once the other lines around it have made it slightly askew to your new point of view.

Often, if I saw myself drawing from learned "ways to draw something" I had to snap out of it, and erase. What was I looking at? Draw what you see. I obviously struggle with realism, but it is the only way I will learn how to capture the actual appearance of things. If this mindset did not help I had to think harder about what I was looking at. What detail is it that makes this look like it curves more or sticks out more in the mirror and does not in my drawing?

I have learned these things today regarding drawing:

Draw what you see.
There are no pointed shapes in a human face, except those which are for reference.
It is best to draw a figure starting with the innermost attributes.
The spacing is always farther than you visualize, and closer than you originally aim for.

I do not think that I am one to think visually. My mental pictures are usually hazy, unless I spend a very long time examining and thinking about every detail of something while I view it. And even then, I can only remember the details, not the over-all appearance--or even worse, I can only remember how I felt while I was looking.

That's it! I (or rather the human race) remember things by way of feelings. And I suppose, if I were better artistically talented then that would lead to many Impressionistic art pieces.

well, i did it

After all of that "should i? should i not?", I finally did decide. I finally did quit the dance team. Over the next few days I expect to be hearing a lot "oh, why did you quit?" I also expect to hear that from the people whom just recently realized I was a member several months from now. I will tell them something about my grades or some such, when that was only a minor factor to my decision. I quit because I felt stressed out. It was no longer fun for me to stay at school for 12 hours a day and deal with bad directions and bad practice time communication. I really don't have enough time for homework, but the real problem is that I have no time to "be". No time to chill, no time to think, no time to do a blog post or clean my room or pursue things which will actually lead up to my future possible professions, of which dance is surely not one. I have not the talent nor the money nor the heart nor the stupidity to try to make a living off of a dance career, but I would love to continue taking occasional classes to learn technique and various genres and have fun =)

Dance team changed from a fun activity to an excessive responsibility and stress place. And with experiencing the team for a semester I am now appreciating the joys of free time and relaxation. I have time to see friends if I please, put thought into homework, and enjoy my high school career not by force or default or mental and physical strain, but by my own leisure and social and contemplative nature. I suppose I took the free time for granted, feeling I needed to have an activity. I do need activities, but with being a team member, there was no room for anything else I had the inclination to pursue or had an interest in. By comparison to being on the team, getting my homework done and feeling at peace to do things slowly and constructively is a breeze. =)

So I'm feeling good. Really really good. May be the smartest decision I ever made. It was hard doing so, feeling attached to and accepted in the team finally, but dance was never really a passion. It was mostly a slight natural advantage and inclination which I thought might be the only team sport which would bring me somewhat joy, hating exercise as I do. It was fun...and it did tone up my body quite well, but it was hard work and stressful. I am a very lazy and laid-back person.

It wasn't working for me. Only select parts of me; the parts that like exciting giddy, surroundings at competitions and the part that likes to learn, when picking up choreography. Perhaps the part that likes to perform, the part that likes to dress up prettily and have people do my hair, and obviously, the part that likes to dance. The excited, giddy me is best not shown, or should be used and expressed in different surroundings and applied more constructively and creatively to go to my benefit and not a team. I can learn anything, and perhaps this mental determination should be directed towards other skills which would help me in other ways or which would give me better grades or a better self of the self. Performing, I will have to find some way to compensate for, perhaps joining drama club or making youtube videos. I like dressing up, but I can play barbies with my boyfriend's little sister and put on make-up when I feel like it. I don't need dance team for that. And the part of me that likes dancing? There are school dances. I managed to do without it every day before I joined the team. And this energy and dancy spirit can be transmitted into my daily mannerism and movement, which makes me seem more myself, and not tired constantly. All of these substitutions, or re-substitutions shall I say, will give me more time and more joy than the team.

I'll always remember the team. I have a $130 uniform and a semester of exhaustion and peer praise to remember. I lasted this long. I won't get to "letter", being put on my résumé, but I don't care. The 4 years of Spanish and Orchestra and Math and Science and English and History will make up for my lack of sports, right?

for you, mr. taylor

With the help of my brother, I wrote this in html.

Math I have to think about more abstractly to be interested in, especially geometry. Memorizing names of different things that are obvious and logical anyway does not intrigue or impress me. Figuring out that two hypothetical triangles are congruent or similar does not interest me when I never cared in the first place. I have to think about the theory, the abstractness of it, to get any meaning at all out of the information.

This program is a statement about the first semester of my geometry class, completely composed of triangles. When I open my 800-page math book (which they expect us to bring home every day, yeah right) to a random page, 80% of the time there is a right triangle on that page. I know this is a bit hypocritical to use programming to make a statement about math, when the two are so related, but it really proves it even moreso.

(I like theories, I have a fascination with them. But when I am being forced to do labor related with the theories, and am not allowed to explore the theoretical ideas with my own interest and curiosity, then I can not "get into it", and I become easily annoyed at facts that are both obvious and new to me, for they are beaten to death. It's all about mindset. There are some times in math that I feel like blowing my brains out or sleeping, just to be able to stop listening. I can't help it, I can't not pay attention to the words teachers say, it's impossible for me.)

Anyway, my statement is that three points is space is three points in space. I don't care what their angle measures or side lengths are if they are continually changing and moving.

So measure that, sucker!!! AHAHAHAHA

a symphony experience

I need some help. Musically inclined/pursued readers of this post, give me your insight.

I went to see a symphony. A semi-professional mediocre symphony, but a symphony nonetheless, comprised of talented adults. For a few of the songs there was choral accompaniment.
I would like to know if there are vast, distinct differences in conducting techniques between different types of conductors (solely choral compared to solely orchestral or solely wind/brass/percussion.)

The reason I ask this is because the different sections of the performers seemed out of sync. Ignoring the plainly confused percussion section, the brass instruments seemed a stall behind every beat that the stringed instruments played. It seems the choir is used to excess instruction and when neglected by the conductor, also lagged somewhat. Ignoring the rushing 1st violin section with various instances of displayed differing bowing, I saw the viola section heavily influenced and overpowered by the brass instruments in the back whom were not playing with the rest of the orchestra exactly.

Also, I would like to know the basic tendencies of these three groups in comparison to each other. Do brass instruments not pay attention to tempo changes signified by the conductor, just moseying along as they listen to those around them? Do they tend to rush? What about a chorus? Are they apt to drag or rush or meld? Does being in the back of the group of performers cause the singers to not be able to pick up on tempo changes quickly enough? The orchestra? Do they slow down on most occasions or listen to each other moreso?

Maybe there is something in the way of acoustics which make one instrument or voice ring longer or be heard later which I am not accounting for because I do not know much about it. The auditorium was not completely professional and catering exactly to having the best, but I was sitting 4th row center, so my placement shouldn't have been a problem.

I suppose what I want to know is, why was this group seemingly together in sections, but almost hard to bear as I noticed their differing interpretation of the conducting. He seemed like a wonderful conductor, but why, why, did it not sound together to me?

sidenote:

For while now, I have began having a grudge against the jazz band, for they leave puddles of spit from their instruments at 0 period for the orchestra students to step on and get on their cases during 1st period. (I'm sure I have mentioned this). My running slightly obscure and moderately entertaining joke to my fellow violists and the 2nd violins is "Dang, if this keeps up I will be forced to give the band a bucket for Christmas." (Even as I am Jewish, the holiday still deserves a place in that joke as long as my audience is mostly comprised of Christians.)

Seeing as how "the holidays" have passed, I can no longer make that joke anymore and I am actually now considering doing this for real. When I told my mom about this, she made a suggestion to make this obnoxious gift idea into a practical joke: flood the band room with spit. Or maybe she said that at least it isn't as obnoxious as a practical joke as it is kind of nice in some ways, and I suggested it. I can't recall. But either way, she gave me the idea. And as the school is being moved anyway, I see no problem. It might be hard to obtain such a large quantity of spit though... all I need is enough to cover the floor. =) That will show 'em. hehehe.