"I love technology..."

I admit it. I love technology. I love my computer. I love being able to write an entire paper, have everything spelled correctly, have it however big I want it in whatever style of font I want it, and printed out in my hand within a few minutes. People always tell me how spoiled I am during high school because of all the modern conveniences that I have. You know, the whole "Back in my day, I used a typewriter" speech. Well, to all those people, I have only one thing to say. If being able to use modern technology means that I have to have the title "Spoiled Brat" accompany me wherever I go, make me a sign!

The inspiration for my blog came from my wonderful young women's leader, who, bless her heart, had to listen to my joyous cries of "I got a new cell phone! I got a new cell phone!" and said "Great, blog about it." Hehe! Now the entire blogging community can hear my joyous cries, because guess what? I got a new cell phone!! Not only is it a cell phone, but it's a CAMERA FLIP phone. AH!! With TEXT MESSAGING!

This wonderful blessing came about from a very unlikely source....my sister's pet dog, Khai. Yeah, I know. Weird. Actually, the thought of getting a new phone plan has been something I've been trying to talk my parents into for a very long time. My old phone had only had 100 minutes a month, no text messaging, and it was a boring not flip phone. It was the worst phone plan I've ever heard of anyone having. My mom and sister, however, had really good plans. I found this rather unfair, and for the past little while my one wish has been to get a camera flip phone with text messaging.

So how does Khai come into all of this? He came into the story last week, when my sister accidentally left her phone within reach of his mouth, and he thought it looked like a nice chew toy. Needless to say, my sister found herself in need of a new phone, and fast. Looking at phones on the internet, she discovered that if she bought herself a new phone, it would cost her $180 for the cheapest model. If our family decided to get onto a new family share plan, however, we'd all get great deals, and she'd only end up paying $175. My parents bit the bait.

Friday night, after play practice, my sister came to pick me up and took me to the phone store to meet my mom. An hour later, I had in my hand my new, beautiful, shiny, CAMERA FLIP phone. Whoosh! I spent the night text messaging my friends and playing with all the fun gadgets that come with it. Within two hours of owning it, I had more pictures than my sister had previously had on her old phone.

Basically, I just have to agree with Kip from Napolean Dynomite (dumb movie, but it had some good laughs) when he said, "I love technology...always and forever!"

The Worth Of Teachers

It amazes me how one teacher can have such an impact on a person's life. No matter what the subject you're taking is, who your teacher is really matters. The way teachers teach and treat their students really makes a difference. A teacher that genuinely cares about their students and shows that we mean more to them than just measely teenagers that aren't worth the crappy salery they recieve are the ones that make the biggest impact.

For our nasty teachers, we have a fairly good example: I just finished a book by Mary Higgins Clark. Ohh, it was a thriller! The characters were all going back to their former high school for their twentieth anniversary thing. The main character, along with five former classmates, was recieving an award for being successful (Which, by the way, seemed weird to me because what does that have to do with anything? Oh well!). Anyway, among the six "honorees" was a man that had been the class nerd in school. Everyone had teased him for being the stupid kid in a family where every kid was a genius. The man had grown up bitter, friendless, and cruel. In the speech he gave, he teased one of his former teachers that had attended the reunion until he made her cry. He expressed no remorse however, because in school she'd always done the same to him.

Now, I know that he was a fictional character, but that's beside the point. The point is, that one teacher could have made a difference in his life. Instead, she joined in the ridicule and he was a very bitter person.

As for our amazing teachers, we have a non-fictional example: My english teacher this year is one of the most amazing teachers I've ever had. Even in the three weeks that I've known her, I love her class! The other night, I found out that I'm not the only one from my family that feels that way. My brother called from Arizona the other night and while he was talking to my mom, she told him that I had this particular teacher for english. My brother commented that there were only three teachers that he could remember that could ever get him interested in literature. For him, I guess that any teacher that could make him interested in literature as a kid was considered a miracle worker. Anyway, among the three names was my current english teacher. He said that when he'd ask her unexpected questions about a book they were reading, instead of brushing him off she would think about it and then do whatever it took to make him understand, whether it was just talking it out or giving him other examples in other books for him to read. Even now, he's never forgotten it.

So I guess this is just a thank you to all of the teachers out there that take the time to care. This year more than ever I've realized the impact teachers have on student's attitudes towards school and life in general. So thank you to all the Mrs. Witt's and Mrs. Francis' of science/biology, the Mrs. Drussel's and Mrs. Pierce's of english, the Mr. Wilson's of social studies, and the Mr. Kyte's of math. You may never know the impact you have on your students, but your passion for the subjects you teach and/or your general interest in your students help to shape who we'll one day become.

Tryouts

I'm slowly coming to realize that tryouts for the school musical are just like tryouts for anything else....the pits. You hear about whatever it is you have to try out for and you think "Hey! That sounds like a lot of fun! I should totally try out for that!" and then you sign up for it. You get all excited because you just know that you're going to make it (I mean, come on, who'd be the idiot that didn't let you in?) and you do everything you possibly can to prepare yourself for it with weeks to spare.

After it's too late to go back, or even glance behind your shoulder at what would surely be the tiniest speck of reality, you realize something - what if that idiot really doesn't let you in? What if you go and you've worked for weeks to hear that you really, truly, undeniably suck? And then you realize that you were just caught up in the magic of the moment and that no matter how incredibly hilarious you would look in that Mrs. Pott's costume, you are not going to get that part? Thoughts like "You are such a moron!" and "What the heck were you thinking?!" and "Is it really too late to look back at that speck?" flash through your head as you realize....there's no hope!

The people around you will try to calm your fears. They'll tell you that that idiot that isn't going to let you in will do what he thinks is best, but that even if you don't make it in, you're really the best, and he'll just be proving his idiocity by not realizing that. It doesn't really help.

Still, there are those faint moments when you're practicing your song or monologue or whatever and you think "Wow, I rock! There's no way I'm not gettin' in!"...sadly, though, they vanish soon. I can only hope that as I'm standing there in the choir room looking at the suddenly ten feet tall, boot-shakinly terrifying judges looking down at me with forced smiles because all they want to do is throw in the towel and go home for the night I will remember what I remember now. It doesn't matter if I make it or not, because I am good, and even if I don't make it into this musical, I still have talent. I was blessed with the ability to sing, and hopefully at least a feeble ability to walk across the stage saying something without falling flat on my face. But no matter what, I have confidence in myself, and that's all that matters. So if I don't happen to make it, I can still look those judges, who will then look only six feet tall, into the eye and smile. Still....tryouts are the pits!!

Like A Bad Horror Movie....

Pain...it's such a horrible thing! It's like in those bad old horror movies when suddenly there's the EEK!!! EEK!!! EEK!!! sound and there are these stupid people sitting there doing nothing but half covering their faces with their spread out fingers while the camera zooms in and out on their looks of horror as something big and black swoops down on them. I mean, you'd think that they'd have the sense to at least try to run away or something. The worst though, is when they know something is in that big scary house and they go inside anyway! Don't they have at least half of a functional brain? Ok, so that's off the subject. Anyway, I've realized that sometimes the helpless, spreadfingered little saps often don't have much of a choice even though they know of the pain that's coming towards them at a very rapid pace. When I was placed in that situation, that's pretty much how it was with me....only slightly worse, because I thought that the pain wouldn't be all that bad.

I'm probably not making any sense, so let me clarify....braces. When my dentist said the words "Hmmm...maybe we should consider braces for you...." I actually said (as hard as it is to believe) "Yes!". I know. I'm a typical sap. The truth is, though, it had always been a hope - dare I even say a dream - of mine that one day I'd get braces. You know, to straighten out that incredibly annoying gap between my two top front teeth. I also liked the way people talked with braces and retainers....I was so young...so innocent....so unbelievably stupid. Braces as a whole experience weren't actually all that bad. Granted, getting them tightened was the pits, but really...what can you do? And my teeth are now beautifully, stunningly straight and white. Yay, right? WRONG! Because I knew that the braces were going to hurt, but nobody ever said that getting the stupid retainers were going to kill my mouth as much as they are!

I know what you're thinking. I've only had this rare form of torture for a total of about seven hours...give it time and you'll get used to it, right? I think it's a horrible thing that nobody informed me that after the braces the retainers were going to be the pits. So here I am with one retainer permanently (or at least temporarily permanently) stuck inside my mouth with what feels like rubber cement on my bottom teeth. On my top teeth I have what's supposed to look like a watermelon but, thanks to the shape of certain wires, looks like a ladybug that flew into my mouth and got stuck there. My teeth ache, my gums are sore, and the next six months appear (from this particular point in time) like they aren't ever going to end. And then after that six months of non-stop retainer wearing, I have yet another year of only "nighttime" retainer wearing. Gah! I dunno what I did to Dr. Barry, but I'm warning you right now....don't mess with him! He has forms of torture that you wouldn't believe. I'm telling you - BEWARE OF THE PAIN!

Singin' In The Rain....Or Dancin'!

This summer while I was sitting in one of my chemistry classes, (sigh) my teacher informed us that we were all going to have to write a short paper. After all of the many groans and protests, she told us that all we had to do was think of two questions about anything in the world that we didn't understand and that we wanted to know the answers to. We had to include a few short sentences about why we wondered this, so that she had some idea as to why we were asking that particular question.

My question was one that I've wondered for a very, very long time, because, quite frankly, I don't think that it's fair. The question that I wanted to know the answer to was: Why is it, that here in Provo, UT, we never experience rainstorms? Now, I wasn't talking about the skimpy pathetic little sprinkle showers that we get occasionally. I know that we have those. I'm talking about the kind of rain that you see in the movies; the kind that you run out in and within seconds you are soaked to the bone. The kind of rain that you can't see further than a few yards in front of you. You know...actual rainstorms.

My question never was answered in the chemistry class - I suppose that my teacher was as stumped as I appear to be. The rain is my favorite kind of weather, but only when you get that earth shaking thunder and the lightening that makes it looks like it's noon. Finally, after so much waiting since the last one, today I got a glimpse of that. Ok, so the actual rain only lasted for about seven minutes, but still! There was rain! I ran outside and just by standing on my porch I got wet. I stood down in the thick of it, and by the time it was over my hair was dripping and my clothes were darker in color than the manufacturers had intended them to be. No lightening, but plenty of thunder and that seven minutes of heaven.

I pity the child that lives somewhere where he or she can't experience a thunderstorm like that, no matter how infrequently they occur, where they can just drop whatever it is that they're doing and run outside barefoot to dance around in the rain.

That's probably why my favorite quote is the one that some wise old person said, "Whoever said sunshine is happiness has never danced in the rain"!

Start Of School

How is it even remotely possible to dread something to the point of tears and yet be so excited about it that you feel like your about to wet your pants? The start of school never ceases to amaze me. I have exactly six days, eight hours, twenty three minutes, and fourteen seconds before I will be sitting in a cold desk wondering what my new teachers are going to be like and wondering just how much I'm going to have to suck up to them to get those hard earned A's. Just kidding.

But seriously, how can it be that school is starting in less than a week? My fellow summer school prisoners can agree with me that it is very not fair that we just got out of the classroom and are now forced back into it. Not that I'm complaining - at least this year I didn't have to suffer through the few weeks before school starts when you're almost tearing your hair out because you have absolutely nothing to do. Still, it's going to be a bummer to go back so soon.

There's something about the first day of school, though, that is strangely exhilerating. It's a new start, a new beginning. In some ways it's like the year before never happened, and you're starting with a clean slate (or a new spiral notebook), ready to learn new things. In other ways, though, it's interesting to know that the kid that threw up on your desk in second grade is still going to be making frequent trips to the principal's office.

The one good thing that you can count on without fail, however, is the back to school shopping for school supplies. Maybe it's just me and my crazy, mixed up lifestyle, but there's something about the smell of newly sharpened pencils and a notebook that's just been opened for the first time that makes everything worthwhile. So even though I know that by the second week of September I'm going to be marking down the days until Christmas vacation, school is starting to look fun to me. I'll see all of my old friends, and, with a little luck, I might just be able to get by without running into barfer boy.

"Wicked"ly Obsessed

I have to admit that I have listened to the CD of the new broadway musical "Wicked" about a thousand times. It's one of those things that no matter how often or how loud the people around you grumble because they will simply DIE if they have to listen to Glinda's ditzy voice singing about how popular she is one more time, you just can't seem to turn it off! It's like in the movie "You've Got Mail" when Meg Ryan tells Tom Hanks that she's read the book "Pride and Prejudice" about two hundred times and every time she reads it she's in agony over whether Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy (who's first name still appears to be "Mr." no matter how many times I watch the movie hoping they'll slip out his real identity) are really going to get together! I have to agree with Meg that no matter how well you know the story, you still sit there shaking in anticipation to hear it unfold into all of it's amazing wonderfulness.

I will proudly admit that some of my neighbors, friends and, yes, miraculously, even a few family members are now completely hooked on the story of Elphaba, the not-so-wicked witch of the west, thanks to my constant babbling. One of my older sisters even got so sick of my obsession with it that she finally consented to listening to it on the way to a family reunion. Much to my dismay, I rode home with my brother-in-law in a different car and couldn't retrieve the CD from her last night. She came over today, though, and when I asked her for it back when she came in to say goodbye the response was, "Dang it! I knew I should have just left. Do you really need it back tonight?" Yes, my amazing attempts at showing my family where TRUE happiness lies have paid off. Only two siblings and a grumbling father have so far dodged any attempts I've made at showing off the grand story. Still, I'm sure that in time, thanks to my excellent sterio and not so amazing piano skills, it's only a matter of time before it'll rub off on them.

I had the grand opportunity of going to visit one of my "converted" sisters this summer to actually SEE the play, and, though I won't go into all the details because, knowing me, it would take HOURS, I will say that the person that dies without seeing it has my eternal pity. I still can't talk about going to see it without hyperventilating. It's only been two and a half weeks since I saw it, though, so hopefully within the next year or so I'll be able to tell it in a way that is coherent enough for people to pick out the major points.