Slice of Life #18 - Bloodwork

March 18th, 2013

Bloodwork--the chilling word that gets me thinking about needles stabbing me, pain, and lots of blood coming out of my arm. I haven't actually had many bad experiences with bloodwork, though. Up until my last two visits, I was still considered a kid (hurray!), and they used butterfly needles instead of the real ones on me. These needles are really tiny, don't hurt that much going in, and have "wings" to cancel out any movement or jerking around of the needle.

However, during my last last visit, I went to a different facility to get my blood taken. They decided to use an adult needle on me. The person who took my blood also looked really young--almost like they hadn't graduated college yet. Anyways, she was really bad at it. Right when the needle went in, it started hurting like crazy. And, she decided to wiggle the needle around while she was at it. After 15 seconds of that, she decided she couldn't find any blood (seriously?? Even I can see my blood vein, it's pretty prominent after being stabbed at a couple hundred times). She decided to try again (yay...no.) and drew the needle out. It felt like someone was stabbing me repeatedly in the arm with a knife instead of just a needle...When she FINALLY got enough blood, my arm was throbbing.

sdlfkjdsj looks so scary :'(

So, today, when the guy doing my bloodwork asked me, "You're a pro at this now, right? You've done this a bunch of times." I answered, "Hm. Not really." It turns out he was pretty good at drawing blood, and it basically didn't hurt at all.

See, when I was a kid I wanted to donate my blood. You know, for leukemia patients, or for people with blood deficiencies, etc. etc. But, after hearing about how others almost fainted after donating too much blood, or thinking about reliving the experience with the amateur blood taker except for much longer, I decided to not donate my blood, at least not yet. I feel terrible, but I just can't stand making my arm a dartboard again.

Slice of Life #17 - My Audition Would Have Been Today

March 17th, 2013

If I hadn't moved my audition date, I would have went to Princeton in the morning, performed in front of a judge, and trudged out feeling like a failure. Thankfully, I had my audition moved to NEXT Sunday, and even though that's still not far off, it makes me feel better for one more week.

My worst experience with auditions was with my first one. My teacher was usually mean to me, and always picked favorites (I was pretty low on the totem pole). Her ultimate favorite was a boy, and whenever I came to a lesson, she would talk about how I stank at piano and how the boy was so much better than me. Well, audition time rolled around, and GUESS WHO GOT HIGH HONORS?? Me. >:D The boy got honorable mention. Or something like that... karmaaa Well, the teacher was angry at me (I don't even know why, I actually practiced a lot) and kept telling me:
"HOW did YOU get high honors while <boy's name> DIDN'T???" Thanks for the insult.

Ever since then, every year for the past five years I've high honors or honors. I would practice not that much over the course of the year, but then a week before the audition I would basically cram practice until I was literally banging my hands on the piano. What often stunk was that I would do fine, as in play both pieces almost perfectly--and then the day before the audition, BAM something would go wrong. My fingers would sometimes just fumble in the middle of a chromatic scale, or I would keep on forgetting one easy part. Usually, I would get everything straightened out and play a perfect or near perfect two pieces for the audition.

However....this year, I barely have had any time to practice. I've been trying to practice more now (since my audition is less than a week away). I'm not sure I'll make it this year--I probably won't. If I don't, I'd be mad at myself for breaking my streak. >.<'

If you make high honors, you usually perform here:


If you make honors, you perform here:

Slice of Life #16 - Kids These Days

March 16th, 2013

I have never realized the extent of variation in younger kids these days--until today. In Chinese school, I TA for a first grade class (hojoy). There's three categories of kids. One group is the kids who come to class every day with all their homework done, and can actually understand what the teacher is teaching. The other group is the kids who go to class having no idea whatsoever about what is going on. If you ask them a question about chinese in general, they will either stare at you blankly, stare at the ground blankly, or mumble something incoherent about how they like turtles too. These kids will sometimes dress up like diva queens. The third group is the kids who have to have their parents sit with them in class because they are hyperactive and will scream their heads off if they do not have adult supervision.

In my class, I am sorry to say, group 2 is prevalent by far. Today, there was a test, and I was in charge of grading the oral parts, where the kids had to read a pingyin passage out loud and I had to judge whether or not they said the words correctly. Forget that--the kids didn't even SAY anything, let alone say it correctly. Sometimes, it was really frustrating, but it felt wrong to get mad at the kids or say anything mean. So, even if a kid got every single word wrong, I still said, "Good job, you got an awesome score."

I don't think I remember ever being like that...but I mean, you can't blame the kids for not knowing anything. Being kids, they're bound to be hyperactive and not wanting to do their homework. I can only hope that later, they'll learn to work harder.

Slice of Life #15 - Worrying About School...Is It a Good Thing?

March 15th, 2013

If and when we ever write a handbook for the future generations of High Techers, the official preamble should really be this:
We the students of High Technology High School, in order to form a more perfect union, work too quickly, stay up past midnight, cram for tests, promote the general hysteria, and secure the blessings of paranoia  to ourselves and our classmates, do ordain and establish this "How to be a Nerd" handbook for all High Techers to ever come.

Despite the general truthfulness of this preable, sometimes we can't be too proud to be so panicky all the time.
Last night, I stayed up my latest ever yet--about 12:40 PM. My enitre family had gone to sleep already, and I was still studying for history. I didn't even procrastinate yesterday. I came home from school late because I had to do science league, and then after half an hour I left for orchestra. After coming home at 9:30, I shoved dinner into my mouth and went to work at 10:00. (I'm a slow eater. I can't help it. If I eat fast my stomach hurts). I had four quizzes to study for, including a biology quiz that I actually studied for this time. Usually I don't even have to, but this time I panicked, since the quiz was bound to have possible outcomes, which is related to math. My weakest point in math is possible outcomes.

Sometimes, I think High Techers worry too much about grades, myself included. I think part of it is the pressure--as you see others say they spent 3 hours studying for a history quiz, and you only studied for 20 minutes at home and 5 minutes on the bus (which is basically all the time you have) you can't help being at a disadvantage. So you stay up later. You remind yourself of the terrible grade you got on the last quiz and try to redeem yourself. You push yourself to study--but the next day, you're too tired to focus on the quiz. Even when you get a hundred, it's too late to push up your deathbound average. It's a depressing, negative cycle, giving you the feeling that one bad quiz grade is all it takes to bring you down. So we study more. And more. And more. Until we have dark circles under our eyes and almost fall asleep in math class even though the class is actually interesting. Our growth is impeded (especially for those of us who haven't started really growing yet, and were going to grow a lot in high school). We're stressed out from the sleep deprivation and the almost primal instinct to get a good grade. So sometimes, I can't help but think: what if we didn't have to do all of this?

Another point: In general, High Techers work too late, and too fast. During Latin class today, Magistra told us to work in groups and finish 3 tasks. In my group, Prashil and Elvis chattered away, having a good time, and recieving plenty of evil stares from Magistra. However, we did pay attention to the quality of our work. Although we finished about 5 minutes later than the other group, who zipped through everything, we goot more questions right. And when the other group got a question wrong, there was always one or two people who would say, "OH, I didn't get it wrong..." Because you weren't working with your group, people. Listen to directions! xD This might go against the divine laws of High Tech to work more slowly, but sometimes it's really necessary.

While we must be proud for our nerdiness, it comes with a hefty price. Students in other schools might not study or panic as much, and might not get as high grades as we do, but they often get more valuable things: health, family time, friend time, fun time. We push aside the things we really need because we're deluded into thinking grades are the only thing we need--it really saddens me to see this. My parents refer to the times when they were in high school. They tell me how easy their classes were, how they could fail as many quizzes they wanted, but as long as they knew the information well, they would get into an awesome college. But I have to say, "That was back then. It's different now." Then, of course, I go do my homework.

Slice of Life #14 - How to Stop Hiccups the Roche Way

March 14th, 2013

Hiccups: the things that singlehandedly annoy teachers, invite humorous remarks from friends, and make you feel awkward. I've always been prone to hiccups, especially whenever I'm hungry or tired. Other times, hiccups just consume me for no apparent reason. So, today, in biology, I was hiccupping. Incessantly. When Mr. Roche asked a question for another student, and the classroom became quiet, I hiccupped, loudly. Mr. Roche and I then had an extremely meaningful discussion which went something like this:

Mr. Roche: Vivian, would you like to know a way to stop hiccups?
Me: ....sure?
Mr. Roche: Well, you just bend over like this *bends over and puts his hands on his stomach* and say this *he says BLEURGGHHHHHHHH* That method has never failed me yet! Get up here and try it.
Me: I'd rather not, but thanks.
Mr. Roche: Fine. You can only hiccup three more times--after the three strikes are out, you stand up here and do what I just did. *smiles evilly*
Me: O.O''
Class: HICCUP VIVIAN HICCUP

People seem very eager for others to embarrass themselves xD
 Today was pi day too--when people got pies thrown at them today, everyone cheered (we are a very sadistical species...) I found this part extremely funny:

Pretend host: And NOW...surprise announcement: Mr. Olsen, please come up to be pied!
Mr. Olsen: What.
High-Techers: *stompingfeetandcheeringandclappingandshouting"
Mr. Olsen: *gets up and starts walking towards host*
High-Techers: *SCREAMINGHYSTERICALLYINJOY*
Host: Mr. Olsen is a brave man! Cheer for him!
Mr. Olsen: *speedwalks out of MPR*
High-Techers: *boooooooooohisssssss*

Slice of Life #13 - Pulling Weeds and Relieving Stress

March 13th, 2013

Today was one of the rare days where I actually had time to go outside, exercise (aka take a short walk) and do other miscellaneous things. It felt really nice to enjoy fresh air, after breathing stale air in a school or house 24/7. However, after my walk, I saw something that made my blood boil: a weed.

Usually, I don't care much about weeds--I think that as a society, they're undervalued, seen as trespassers or terrible plants coming to destroy the World Of Our Beautiful Immaculate Lawns. Most of the time, they're pretty, with brightly colored flowers that light up your front lawn instead of making it look ugly. Today, I guess I was feeling both angry at my grades and at these ugly, yellow, giant weeds just killing the dandelions growing next to them. (Some weeds are better than others).

If problems had hair, the hair would be the weeds I saw today. A weird analogy, I know, but all the stress I've been feeling the past month to finish projects, etc., has really took my toll. That toll must be pretty big if I think weeds are hair, now that I think about it... When I couldn't yank out the weeds on my first try, I actually tried to use my stored energy from my last swim practice (long, long, ago.....like 2 weeks ago) to keep pulling. However, the roots of the problems (hahahapunny) were too deep, and I went to get a weed fork.

After repeatedly stabbing at the roots, I got one weed out--it was probably the most satisfying, happy, and disgusting part of my WEEK, let alone my day. It felt great to yank one of the ugly plants out. When I was little, my guidance counselor used to tell my class, "When some people get angry, they take it out by ripping paper. Others scribble. Others read." And I yank weeds! I'm so special.

 

It felt like I had actually pulled out my problems. I moved onto the next one (divide and conquer!!), and pulled that one out, too. In the end, I had pulled out 3 weeds with roots that were half a foot deep. Remarkably, I don't feel that stressed anymore. Some of you should try pulling out weeds when you're angry, too; after doing so, you feel better, and your yard is not being taken over by ugly weeds anymore. You'll make more space for pretty weeds, which DO, contrary to popular belief, deserve a place in this world ;D

 

A picture of the weeds I pulled out:





Slice of Life #12 - Sadness :'(

March 12th, 2013

Over the years, I've realized a pattern: your saddest day always comes right after your best day. To me, I think that it must be because during your best day, you feel like you can do anything, you actually feel smart or likeable for once, or you feel some of the stress lift off your shoulders. It could be a day of vacation, where you spend all your time swimming at an awesome beach, or a day where you just spend some time with family and friends having fun. Then, the worst day comes right after--the day where something really bad does happen, but it's made all the worse by the fact that you're still sitting on your silver-lined cloud. It hurts to be dragged down so quickly and suddenly. If life was a swing-- if you fall and crash on a normal kick up, you might get bruises. If you find the energy to swing higher and higher, when you crash you might have broken bones and a concussion, to put it bluntly.

I first realized this after I read Looking for Alaska, by John Green. For example, Alaska says that her best day was when her mother was alive. She and her mother went to the zoo, where they looked at giraffes and monkeys, and basically had an awesome mother-daughter bonding experience. Her worst day came right after--her mother was killed in a car crash, and Alaska was left wishing for the times when she had looked at the monkeys with her mother.

When I came to High Tech, I was elated. To be frank, I never thought I would have been smart enough to get in. However, I had a fairly sad day right after (not the worst) where I realized that the competition level at High Tech is insanely high. I even spent a couple of days asking myself if it would have been a better choice to go to Science and Engineering. After all, my friends over there said that there was basically no competition other than those who went to my school.

I had another one of my worst days today. It feels terrible to finally, finally, be on the biology science league team--and then be told that after all, you didn't make it. I'm not saying it was anyones fault. It was no one's fault except mine. The teacher just made a mistake putting my name on the team list, and Kathryn really deserved that spot. If I really were to make it, I should have scored higher. In the meantime though, I gave up my alternate position to someone else. Hopefully they'll be happy ;D