wow.
So I won.
I won SGA VP.
It's so invigorating, considering I wrote my speech in the church before the assembly. Like. 2 min before.
This is awesome.
The AP Calculus was suchhhh a BITCH... grr. The open responses sexually molested me. Hardcore. Thanks to Daniel, tho. I owned the calculator active multiple choice. It's all about that TI-89.
Great Success.
The Host give away is today. I have been studying Twilight . How Martaus is going to decide to give it away is to give everyone a Twilight test. BAHAH.
owned.
I've read it 4 times in the past year.
Why do we have advanced copies of The Host?
Why did I read it in January?
Remember that Book Mafia thing that I mentioned a while ago?
Yea, it is for that.
And now she is giving away the books through a drawing of sorts.
It's going to be exciting.
But there is a seperate drawing for The Host because everyone wants it, and there are only 2 copies.
BAAHA.
I am really sparatic in the writing now, for some reason. I just got finished writing the U of Chicago's admission's essay.
Modern improvisational comedy had its start with The Compass Players, a group of University of Chicago students, who later formed the Second City comedy troupe. Here is a chance to play along. Improvise a story, essay, or script that meets all of the following requirements:
here it is.
"
My heart skipped a beat. It literally, skipped a beat. Honestly, I can’t fathom how my biology can handle myself: skipping breakfast, skipping sleep, skipping heartbeats. It’s quite a stress, you know, skipping things.
As I begrudgingly walked down the street of the River Market, my eyes skipped around from face to face, my feet itching to skip. They fought against my brain, wanting to move faster than the group of tourists sauntering in front of me, with their ice cream and “I Love the Rock” shirts. Contemplating how I could maneuver around this group of lethargic sightseers, my eye was caught by a flash of white. The sun glinted off a white paper airplane as it soared over the heads of the group of people, skipping on the wind. My head tilted up, eyes transfixed. As meditation occupied my wits, skipping feet moved without telling, walking straight through a crosswalk. As I looked around, pondering from which window this divine flying machine was tossed, an invisible hand grabbed the back of my shirt, yanking me quite forcefully back onto the oppressive sidewalk, and back into reality.
Enter: heart skippage.
I turned around looking for where the invisible being, with the very visible strength, had disappeared. A flush rising in my cheeks, I pushed my way through the day trippers, the paper airplane completely forgotten, I searched for the mysterious person. I walked along the midriff level wall, my urge to find this person becoming a mission, an exploration, an undertaking. As I reached the entrance to the Farmer’s Market, a lone shoe caught my attention. I picked it up, examining it.
Could this be theirs?
Were they in such a hurry to run away, that the abandoned a beautifully intact shoe?
Was this a subliminal fairytale message reminiscent of pumpkins and mice?
This was a clue.
Pumpkins.
I thrust the shoe into my canvas bag. My head whipped around, the chill wind whacking me in the face. I rushed across the pallet of people selling squash in a myriad of colors: red, yellow, and purple, random knock off Lois Vuitton purses, hemp bracelets, bottle cap earrings, and ferns. The pumpkin stand was at the very end of the pavilion, calling to me. I could feel the continuous color intensifying in my face, the savior would be there! The mysterious individual who rescued me. I could hear “The Blowers Daughter” playing now; I could feel the suspense mounting. I walked up to the pumpkin table, trying to hide my excitement.
“Hello” I said the nonchalant failing in my voice.
The woman who worked the booth glanced up from her magazine. She was chewing on a Ticonderoga number 2 pencil, circling random words in the New York Times. Her hair was in pink dreads, pilled high on her head.
‘Modern Marie Antoinette’ I thought. Her eyebrow ring and the dark green eyelashes intimidated me and intrigued me. Her shredded University of Chicago shirt made me wonder if she was my modern Oracle.
“Can I help you?” An unnaturally sweet voice emitted from her vocal box, making me ruffle my eyebrows.
“And yes I said yes I will Yes” I said, nodding, “Sorry, I tumble over my words time some” I took a deep breath, “I’m looking for someone.”
“Okay…” she said, raising her ringed eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and annoyance present in her voice.
I just stood there.
“And this person is…”
“Oh…Well…I don’t really know.”
“Really now?” She made a scrunchy face with her mouth. I could feel her passive judgment washing over me in waves. I glanced down at my brown sandals, black jeans, blue scarf, and Periodic Table t-shirt with Cobalt circled with a sharpie.
“I like Colbalt…” I mumbled.
“My favorite is Tungston,” she said, returning to her magazine, “It’s such a non conformist element.”
I giggled.
An old man clad in flannel came up, resting his hands upon my comrade in chemistry’s shoulders.
“O’, you’re that girl who almost walked out in the mid’le of the st’rt. You should b’ m’re caare’ful!”
His thick Arkansas accent made me tilt my head, trying to filter out his meaning. My mouth made an ‘O’, and I glanced at the ground.
“I think you dropped this” I said, taking the shoe out of my bag, and placing it with the pumpkins. I smiled at his eyebrow raise, turned around, and began walking back to the street. Suddenly, the fantastic flying machine caught my eye. I smiled, and began following the whimsical wonder that caught my attention in the first place, and set out for another adventure. "
I had so much fun writing this. HEHE. I wasn't in the mood to actually write about myself. Thank god for Paul and his amazing ideas.
It's pretty random, but yea. :D
That's me.
I won SGA VP.
It's so invigorating, considering I wrote my speech in the church before the assembly. Like. 2 min before.
This is awesome.
The AP Calculus was suchhhh a BITCH... grr. The open responses sexually molested me. Hardcore. Thanks to Daniel, tho. I owned the calculator active multiple choice. It's all about that TI-89.
Great Success.
The Host give away is today. I have been studying Twilight . How Martaus is going to decide to give it away is to give everyone a Twilight test. BAHAH.
owned.
I've read it 4 times in the past year.
Why do we have advanced copies of The Host?
Why did I read it in January?
Remember that Book Mafia thing that I mentioned a while ago?
Yea, it is for that.
And now she is giving away the books through a drawing of sorts.
It's going to be exciting.
But there is a seperate drawing for The Host because everyone wants it, and there are only 2 copies.
BAAHA.
I am really sparatic in the writing now, for some reason. I just got finished writing the U of Chicago's admission's essay.
Modern improvisational comedy had its start with The Compass Players, a group of University of Chicago students, who later formed the Second City comedy troupe. Here is a chance to play along. Improvise a story, essay, or script that meets all of the following requirements:
- It must include the line “And yes I said yes I will Yes” (Ulysses, by James Joyce).
- Its characters may not have superpowers.
- Your work has to mention the University of Chicago, but please, no accounts of a high school student applying to the University-this is fiction, not autobiography.
- Your work must include at least four of the following elements:
- a paper airplane +
- a transformation
- a shoe +
- the invisible hand +
- two doors
- pointillism
- a fanciful explanation of the Pythagorean Theorem
- a ventriloquist or ventriloquism
- the Periodic Table of the Elements +
- the concept of jeong
- number two pencils +
here it is.
"
My heart skipped a beat. It literally, skipped a beat. Honestly, I can’t fathom how my biology can handle myself: skipping breakfast, skipping sleep, skipping heartbeats. It’s quite a stress, you know, skipping things.
As I begrudgingly walked down the street of the River Market, my eyes skipped around from face to face, my feet itching to skip. They fought against my brain, wanting to move faster than the group of tourists sauntering in front of me, with their ice cream and “I Love the Rock” shirts. Contemplating how I could maneuver around this group of lethargic sightseers, my eye was caught by a flash of white. The sun glinted off a white paper airplane as it soared over the heads of the group of people, skipping on the wind. My head tilted up, eyes transfixed. As meditation occupied my wits, skipping feet moved without telling, walking straight through a crosswalk. As I looked around, pondering from which window this divine flying machine was tossed, an invisible hand grabbed the back of my shirt, yanking me quite forcefully back onto the oppressive sidewalk, and back into reality.
Enter: heart skippage.
I turned around looking for where the invisible being, with the very visible strength, had disappeared. A flush rising in my cheeks, I pushed my way through the day trippers, the paper airplane completely forgotten, I searched for the mysterious person. I walked along the midriff level wall, my urge to find this person becoming a mission, an exploration, an undertaking. As I reached the entrance to the Farmer’s Market, a lone shoe caught my attention. I picked it up, examining it.
Could this be theirs?
Were they in such a hurry to run away, that the abandoned a beautifully intact shoe?
Was this a subliminal fairytale message reminiscent of pumpkins and mice?
This was a clue.
Pumpkins.
I thrust the shoe into my canvas bag. My head whipped around, the chill wind whacking me in the face. I rushed across the pallet of people selling squash in a myriad of colors: red, yellow, and purple, random knock off Lois Vuitton purses, hemp bracelets, bottle cap earrings, and ferns. The pumpkin stand was at the very end of the pavilion, calling to me. I could feel the continuous color intensifying in my face, the savior would be there! The mysterious individual who rescued me. I could hear “The Blowers Daughter” playing now; I could feel the suspense mounting. I walked up to the pumpkin table, trying to hide my excitement.
“Hello” I said the nonchalant failing in my voice.
The woman who worked the booth glanced up from her magazine. She was chewing on a Ticonderoga number 2 pencil, circling random words in the New York Times. Her hair was in pink dreads, pilled high on her head.
‘Modern Marie Antoinette’ I thought. Her eyebrow ring and the dark green eyelashes intimidated me and intrigued me. Her shredded University of Chicago shirt made me wonder if she was my modern Oracle.
“Can I help you?” An unnaturally sweet voice emitted from her vocal box, making me ruffle my eyebrows.
“And yes I said yes I will Yes” I said, nodding, “Sorry, I tumble over my words time some” I took a deep breath, “I’m looking for someone.”
“Okay…” she said, raising her ringed eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and annoyance present in her voice.
I just stood there.
“And this person is…”
“Oh…Well…I don’t really know.”
“Really now?” She made a scrunchy face with her mouth. I could feel her passive judgment washing over me in waves. I glanced down at my brown sandals, black jeans, blue scarf, and Periodic Table t-shirt with Cobalt circled with a sharpie.
“I like Colbalt…” I mumbled.
“My favorite is Tungston,” she said, returning to her magazine, “It’s such a non conformist element.”
I giggled.
An old man clad in flannel came up, resting his hands upon my comrade in chemistry’s shoulders.
“O’, you’re that girl who almost walked out in the mid’le of the st’rt. You should b’ m’re caare’ful!”
His thick Arkansas accent made me tilt my head, trying to filter out his meaning. My mouth made an ‘O’, and I glanced at the ground.
“I think you dropped this” I said, taking the shoe out of my bag, and placing it with the pumpkins. I smiled at his eyebrow raise, turned around, and began walking back to the street. Suddenly, the fantastic flying machine caught my eye. I smiled, and began following the whimsical wonder that caught my attention in the first place, and set out for another adventure. "
I had so much fun writing this. HEHE. I wasn't in the mood to actually write about myself. Thank god for Paul and his amazing ideas.
It's pretty random, but yea. :D
That's me.