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!"
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Friday, September 09, 2005
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.
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.
Friday, September 02, 2005
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!!
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!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)