Our Own Disturbed Ward

Ah, multiple choice game day.  Everyone around me feels hyped up and they’re smiling as they enter the AP English 12 room, what an odd sight to see.  I, for one, do not share their merriment for these days.  I don’t much enjoy forced conflict, I would much rather go about my business quietly, silently even.  People call me Chief Bromden, but in this room, I am by no means the chief; I will most likely end up on the losing team.  Assuredly, I don’t even hold a candle to the self-named Dream Team.  Looking over in disgust, I see their team, team 6, announced.  Instead of whooping or doing a fun choreographed cheer, or even sitting awkwardly, as my team, Team 7, will undoubtedly choose, the Dream Team vainly holds a simple number one in the air.  How I loathe them: “they are in contact on a high voltage wave length of hate” (31). No need to cheer or say anything when their team is called; a smug index finger pointed high is all they need to communicate what place they will receive. 

            “’A toast to toast!’” Kelly shouts for the room to hear.  Wow, what a clever team name. I like the simple and strong alliteration from Team Toast.  Not only that, but they can do so much with that word! They can make a toast to toast as Kelly just exclaimed; they can propel toast into the air by pantomiming a toaster; they can even tell other teams that they will be toast.  How versatile—I wish I was on Team Toast with those great girls over there.  I think if they don’t win, this might go down as my worst day in AP English 12. 

            The game begins.  Ms. Serensky announces that number one will go to … all groups.  I feel a rush of joy as my team wins a tally on the board.  But I remind myself, “it’s a minor battle in a big war” with that and each point (113).  The game progresses and I see that I am losing this war.  My hope wanes and I see the fog rolling in.  I wish I could shut myself out from this cruel world, from the sad embarrassment of getting dead last in the multiple choice competition.  Just above me in the ranks, but still obtaining zero extra credit points, is the mighty Team Toast.  The points were so close, so palpable, there for the taking.  However, the wretched Dream Team’s satisfied first place faces only serve to amplify how the extra credit points do not exist for me.  “But if they don’t exist,” I think, “how can a man see them?” (90). Perhaps I do belong back at the mental ward.  I certainly won’t survive here, not with my deaf mute discussion grade.

Letter From a Chagrin Falls Jail

Dear Junior,

            If there is one thing AP English 11 taught me, it’s that there is so much pain and sadness in this world.  And struggling.  And depression. And stress. Particularly in our world in Ms. Serensky’s class. From all the late nights reading, doing SOAPSTones, and worrying over in-class essays; I want what you so effortlessly have. You say, “I’d like one of those for myself. A life”, but face it Junior, at my age, you had a steady girlfriend, you were extremely intelligent—despite your rough family life, you had a lot going for you (186). And now you’re throwing that life quite away with your drugs and alcohol.  Try to see the positives in your life before it deteriorates further.  Things can change for the better if you let them.  For example, in my very first in-class writing assignment of AP English 11, I believe I wrote a total of three sentences.  I felt “paralyzed by the fear that I [would] screw it up,” so I spent minutes frozen in fear trying to perfect each sentence (99).  I received a rubric score of 2 on that essay and now I look back in amusement at how far I’ve come.  When you start at 2, there is nowhere to go but up.  Likewise, you can turn your life around.  Even with Amy gone and the apocalypse in the near future, there can shine a light at the end of the tunnel for you.  There is hope yet, Junior. You worried me when you cried that “any effort to escape was futile. That’s what the past year has felt like” (98).  Sure, Junior, we all feel that way.  In fact, regarding my past year in AP English 11, I may have said those exact words.  Often times I feel that there is no escaping the AP English classroom.  However, I dare say Harriet Jacobs felt just as trapped as you, and she endured for seven years!  At least you don’t live in a closet, you’ll always have that.

Sincerely,

Mary Beth

March 14

Countdown: T-minus four days. Until the beginning of OGT Week and thus five glorious days to sleep in? No… Until the next reading assignment for English? No. Until the first real day of daylight savings time? Much anticipated, I agree, but still no. Give up? This coming Monday is 3/14—Pi Day, of course!

As some of you may know, I work at Math Monkey, and this year we will have our first annual pi contest.   It will consist of taking videos of the students that enter reciting digits of pi and finally we will announce a winner on Pi Day!  If my memory serves me correctly, I recall we did a similar memorization of pi in sixth grade. I thought I was hot stuff for having about thirty digits memorized, but Emily won with two-hundred some digits. Congratulations, by the way Emily! Don’t worry; I’m not at all bitter.  Seriously though, you are a champion.  However your weak triple digit memorization pales in comparison to the tens of thousands on the pi world ranking list. Oh yes, you read correctly, there is a world ranking of memorized pi digits.  People do spend their time memorizing a slew of numbers whose order is without any rhyme or reason, and whose length is undetermined because higher technology computers only add digits as time goes on.  In spending their time memorizing, then reciting this endless list of numbers, these people take up the unachievable task.  They dream the impossible dream.  I say power to them if it makes them happy.  Students at the Maine School of Science and Mathematics seemed to enjoy themselves on Pi Day, 2003: http://www.memoryelixir.com/archive4.html#pi.

So this coming Monday, March 14, please remember Pi Day and pay homage to this great holiday! Even if it is just an approximation-of-pi day, technically.  Fun isn’t built on technicalities.

Don't Panic

This blog entry is what I would much rather write for the paragraph due tomorrow, instead of some focused mumbo-jumbo.  The prompt asks “how would you live if you knew, for sure, that everything will be destroyed when you are 36 years old?” I imagine apocalyptic conditions as the cause of everything getting destroyed in eighteen short years.  Therefore, I immediately thought of Douglas Adams’ novel, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, in which aliens demolish the Earth in order to make way for an intergalactic expressway.  For those of you who have not read this amazing book, or even those who think it’s unfathomable to read anything but a book for school during the academic year, I highly recommend giving this one a try.  Not only is it a relatively simple read, but Adams is hilarious—I find myself literally (and I mean literally) laughing out loud every few pages.  Anyway, in his novel, I find it interesting to look at how the people of Earth reacted to the sense of impending doom they faced upon hearing the world would explode in a matter of minutes, on that fateful Thursday.  Some people at a bar chose to put paper bags on their heads and lie down in one last futile attempt of protection. Mostly though, people screamed mindlessly and ran to nowhere in particular.  I, however, if placed in the situation of the end of the world, would like to live as the main character, Arthur Dent, did.  His best friend, Ford Prefect, is actually an extraterrestrial and had masqueraded as a human for a number of years, portraying himself as an out of work actor.  Ford saves Arthur from Earth’s demise and they go on to have fun adventures in space.  How great! So what would I do if I knew the world would end when I turn 36? I would hope one of my friends unveiled themselves as an alien and saved me.  As you may be able to tell, I have had this plan in effect for a few years now, that’s why I do theater…to meet actors who may one day save me from the end of the world.

Too Close for Comfort

In the past two weekends, I visited some of my potential colleges on their accepted students’ weekends.  You know when all of a sudden something flips in your mind and your sense of reality turns on its side? Sometime two weeks ago, that happened to me: I had a complete shift in perspective.  I imagine this is how Isaac Newton felt when the fabled apple fell on his head.  All of a sudden that whole college thing became very real to me.  Too real.  I guess for the past year and a half, I have gone through the motions of countless campus tours and info sessions, whittling down a list, and even applying to schools, without thinking I would actually go there.  Just think, in six short months, we will have a new set of friends, classes, even a new home.  We’ll be in college, ladies and gentlemen. College.  The “apple on my head,” if I continue this half-metaphor, was probably the sight of other prospective freshmen who might end up as my friends, my roommates, who knows, maybe boyfriends.  The thought blew my mind and I could not stop remarking on it all weekend.  My mom and sister may have made fun of me a bit. But I couldn’t get over it.  In fact, just last weekend, I visited my sister at Villanova (with my good friend Jillian!) and met her friends at a singers/voices gathering.  The next day I realized that if I went to said university, these would likely be my friends.  I became scared and excited and anxious and freaked out all at once.  Like I said: too real.  So, as I try and wrap my mind around the perplexing fact of the future charging toward me, I offer you all a bit of advice that I have heard from a man named Josh Maas, don’t wish away your life.  College, in all its frightening glory, will come before you know it.  And it’s very real.

Obsessive Compulsive Datasheets

Papers aren't as conducive to OCD :(

Apple Addiction: The New AA

Hello, my name is Mary Beth and I am an iPad addict.  Actually that is false, but my sister, Katie, assuredly is, and since she cannot admit it I will for her.  Currently, I’m in Boston visiting with her before I head out to a college visit in Providence, she has talked about her iPad and its magnificent wonders for about 70% of the time.  As such, I have learned quite a bit about this Apple invention in the recent past and so I shall share our favorite iPad apps.  Sorry if this reads like an advertisement for Apple, but feel free to go out and buy these apps after reading, they will not disappoint!

·      Words with Friends: Available for the iPhone and iPad, this virtual scrabble game helps ensure that you do not say any words to the friends around you, rather play others in scrabble 24/7. Lovely. 

·      New York Times Crossword: A favorite of mine, the clues are stimulating and the iPad allows you to check your answers midway through finishing, a fantastic loophole. Also, there’s an almost endless supply of years of crossword puzzles, so you can feel free to simply finish Monday after Monday and feel so great about yourself!

·      Star Walk: Wow, I just learned about it and it blew my mind! You simply point the iPad up in the air and it shows you the stars directly above you.  Stargazing without even leaving the comfort of the warm indoors.  This app names and points out the constellations, stars, planets, basically a handheld astronomer, telescope included

·      Cut the Rope: Such a fantastic game! A piece of candy hangs by a rope tantalizing the green alien, Omnom.  As levels rise, new pieces are added, so the player has to use a knowledge of physics and logic to deliver the nom noms to Omnom, whilst collecting all three stars to achieve a high score.

·      Proloquo 2 Go: As a speech pathologist, my sister uses the iPad as an augmentative communication device. This app allows nonspeaking people, such as children with autism or cerebral palsy, or seniors with aphasia, to form sentences that the iPad reads aloud.  The iPad revolutionized the field because augmentative communication devices cost $8000 but iPads cost only $500

·      Angry Birds: Like Cut the Rope, this seemingly childish game is chock full of physics… and fun! Players try to knock over a structure that protects some green pigs, by sling-shotting various birds at it.  Wow. Non-stop hilarity

·      The Cloudy Shake: For the little kid inside you, users of this app choose food products from ice cream to hot dogs to broccoli, to blend into a milkshake.  They then shake the iPad to blend the virtual milkshake and a “gross-o-meter” measures the degree of deliciousness of your concoction.  At the end, you can even “drink” your milkshake by tipping the iPad toward your mouth, or over a chair, it's not like it's real.

     Now go forth and spread the good news of these splendid apps to your friends and neighbors! They will love you for it. Or get angry and jealous if they don't have said iPad.