Dear ItDoesn'tMatterWhoYouAre,
I want you to know that you pretty much saved me out of a really dark abyss that I had wandered into. You'll never know that you did this for me and nobody will ever understand how or why. The point is that two years ago, you pulled me out of a horrible place by simply teaching everything you embody. The fact that you are shameless when it comes to throwing yourself out there based on pure instinct amazes me every single day. And, I think that although instinct is something that is so basic and alluring, instinct is also a path that, in some cases, causes a lot of regret.. But, even further, you taught me that those regrets are not something to be ashamed of. They are something to grow from, they are something to live with and they are what make you. So, thank you...it doesn't matter who you are. What matters is that I know and appreciate what you've done.
Aug 27, 2012
Better Barbie-Best College Essay I think I've Ever Read
Better Barbie
I don’t have any alumni ties to Brown, though it’s possible I could be the long-lost granddaughter of James S. Miller. Never have I sailed the Pacific Ocean on the back of a humpback whale, nor can I wrap sushi with the skill of former Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto. I haven’t done much research regarding podiatry, and chances are I will never win the Michigan Mega-Millions lottery. I am, however, the proud owner of a Little Mermaid Edition Barbie.
At some point in almost every little girl’s life, she becomes engrossed in the Pepto-Bismol-pink world of Barbies, a place I entered at the age of seven. My sister, Hannah, and I decided to take our collection of 11-inch plastic friends for a dip in the pool one sweltering summer day. Hours of giggling resulted from tossing the Barbies as high as we could into the air and watching them dive gracefully into the waves. Three … two … one, I launched my Little Mermaid doll in the same fashion as Apollo 11. We watched her rocket into the sky. I glanced at my sister, who was scrambling through her scorecards to make sure she had the well-deserved “10” ready. My eyes returned upward, anticipating the gymnastic stunts Barbie would undoubtedly deliver to her enraptured audience. Where was she? The crowd was growing restless. Had she landed on the moon?
Utterly bewildered, we combed through the freshly mown grass and woods, but unfortunately, our search bore no fruit. After a moment of sorrow, our tiny attention spans directed us to a different game, and our minds fluttered away.
Over the years, I encountered many of my own quirky adventures. As a field biologist intern, I camped for 15 days on an uninhabited island, purified my own water, surveyed the endangered Piping Plover, tested the water quality of lakes, and found my way out of 70,000 acres of northern Michigan wilderness. My view of the world broadened through travels and encounters with the Costa Rican, German, French, and Australian cultures. I won varsity letters, had my poetry published, and volunteered at a local hospital, and as I grew older, the mystery of the once-beloved Little Mermaid Edition Barbie faded into a misty memory.
One recent fall day, rainbow-colored leaves swirled through the air and the chilly breeze carried its pleasant scent, an amalgamation of bonfire and pumpkin. Upon the rooftop was not good Saint Nick, but rather my dad, cleaning the leaves off our house. Tied to the branch of an ancient oak tree, the tire swing moved my body in a pendulum motion. My dad approached with something dark in his hands. “Eh … does this belong to you, or Hannah?” he said with a look of perplexity painted on his face. I couldn’t believe my eyes: It was the Little Mermaid Edition Barbie! The poor girl – she was an absolute disaster. I affirmed my ownership of the traveler, and took her battered body in my hands.
Nine years had passed since I had seen the almost-world-renowned Olympic diver. I recalled that summer day and smiled as memories flooded my mind. She looked as though she’d been struck by lightning a few times, weathered heavy monsoons, and held onto the gutter for dear life during tornados. Her mangled arm appeared to have been mistaken for a worm by a ferocious momma bird. Leaves, dirt, and other debris were entwined in her once shiny, cherry locks. Her attire was tattered – she seemed to have fashioned herself a Tarzan-esque ensemble. Her ingenuity was impressive; it reminded me of an experience in which I had to craft socks out of a garbage bag and medical tape, then wear them for three days in pouring rain. Nevertheless, one thing stood out as I ogled my long-lost friend: her face.
She wore a radiant smile, a look of contentment, self-confidence, and accomplishment. With head held high and a positive attitude, she had battled life’s unexpected challenges. She knows now what it means to strive and succeed. I realized the world of pink doesn’t fit someone with so much potential, so much passion for learning, so much heart, independence, and creativity. I looked at her and saw myself reflected in her sapphire eyes.
Like her, my dreams lie far beyond those of a Stepford wife, and with the ability to bend and not break, I am ready to step out of my plastic box society, through the Van Winkle gates, and into a world of endless possibilities. I crave the works of Thoreau and Emerson, not mall directories or grocery lists. I desire adventure and the opportunity to study new cultures. I long to write what I want and voice my opinions with my whole heart behind them. And as the Little Mermaid Edition Barbie sits on my shelf, next to musical and athletic trophies, behind silly pictures of friends, and alongside books by Maya Angelou and Lewis Carroll, she reminds me of myself. For this ambitious girl, pink is not enough; she is ready to dive into Brown.
At some point in almost every little girl’s life, she becomes engrossed in the Pepto-Bismol-pink world of Barbies, a place I entered at the age of seven. My sister, Hannah, and I decided to take our collection of 11-inch plastic friends for a dip in the pool one sweltering summer day. Hours of giggling resulted from tossing the Barbies as high as we could into the air and watching them dive gracefully into the waves. Three … two … one, I launched my Little Mermaid doll in the same fashion as Apollo 11. We watched her rocket into the sky. I glanced at my sister, who was scrambling through her scorecards to make sure she had the well-deserved “10” ready. My eyes returned upward, anticipating the gymnastic stunts Barbie would undoubtedly deliver to her enraptured audience. Where was she? The crowd was growing restless. Had she landed on the moon?
Utterly bewildered, we combed through the freshly mown grass and woods, but unfortunately, our search bore no fruit. After a moment of sorrow, our tiny attention spans directed us to a different game, and our minds fluttered away.
Over the years, I encountered many of my own quirky adventures. As a field biologist intern, I camped for 15 days on an uninhabited island, purified my own water, surveyed the endangered Piping Plover, tested the water quality of lakes, and found my way out of 70,000 acres of northern Michigan wilderness. My view of the world broadened through travels and encounters with the Costa Rican, German, French, and Australian cultures. I won varsity letters, had my poetry published, and volunteered at a local hospital, and as I grew older, the mystery of the once-beloved Little Mermaid Edition Barbie faded into a misty memory.
One recent fall day, rainbow-colored leaves swirled through the air and the chilly breeze carried its pleasant scent, an amalgamation of bonfire and pumpkin. Upon the rooftop was not good Saint Nick, but rather my dad, cleaning the leaves off our house. Tied to the branch of an ancient oak tree, the tire swing moved my body in a pendulum motion. My dad approached with something dark in his hands. “Eh … does this belong to you, or Hannah?” he said with a look of perplexity painted on his face. I couldn’t believe my eyes: It was the Little Mermaid Edition Barbie! The poor girl – she was an absolute disaster. I affirmed my ownership of the traveler, and took her battered body in my hands.
Nine years had passed since I had seen the almost-world-renowned Olympic diver. I recalled that summer day and smiled as memories flooded my mind. She looked as though she’d been struck by lightning a few times, weathered heavy monsoons, and held onto the gutter for dear life during tornados. Her mangled arm appeared to have been mistaken for a worm by a ferocious momma bird. Leaves, dirt, and other debris were entwined in her once shiny, cherry locks. Her attire was tattered – she seemed to have fashioned herself a Tarzan-esque ensemble. Her ingenuity was impressive; it reminded me of an experience in which I had to craft socks out of a garbage bag and medical tape, then wear them for three days in pouring rain. Nevertheless, one thing stood out as I ogled my long-lost friend: her face.
She wore a radiant smile, a look of contentment, self-confidence, and accomplishment. With head held high and a positive attitude, she had battled life’s unexpected challenges. She knows now what it means to strive and succeed. I realized the world of pink doesn’t fit someone with so much potential, so much passion for learning, so much heart, independence, and creativity. I looked at her and saw myself reflected in her sapphire eyes.
Like her, my dreams lie far beyond those of a Stepford wife, and with the ability to bend and not break, I am ready to step out of my plastic box society, through the Van Winkle gates, and into a world of endless possibilities. I crave the works of Thoreau and Emerson, not mall directories or grocery lists. I desire adventure and the opportunity to study new cultures. I long to write what I want and voice my opinions with my whole heart behind them. And as the Little Mermaid Edition Barbie sits on my shelf, next to musical and athletic trophies, behind silly pictures of friends, and alongside books by Maya Angelou and Lewis Carroll, she reminds me of myself. For this ambitious girl, pink is not enough; she is ready to dive into Brown.
By Jesse K, Grand Ledge, MI
Aug 26, 2012
A Few Songs (Gonna keep adding to this)
If anyone reads my blog or really knows me then they know that I have an infatuation with music. That much is evident. My friends often tease me for singing so much and my mom is always calling me a "little bird" because I'm always whistling or humming inside the house. But a lot of the time, I catch myself just listening to a song and not really connecting to it. It's one thing to listen to a song and become attached to it...that would just be a really catchy melody. But to feel elevated and just completely overwhelmed by a song is something that I've only felt around two times. And, to be honest, I don't think these artists are well known for their songs at all. Actually, they're typically "lame" in the sense that they're strange genres and nobody really listens to them. In other words, they're not "pop".
The first time I ever felt it was with the song "Set the Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol. I kind of have a guilty pleasure when it comes to music and that guilty pleasure is when a guy and a girl mesh together singing. A lot of people think its too distracting and its hard to figure out who is more prominent in the song etc etc. But I think that it's actually really appealing and when done right, can be really harmonic. In "Set the Fire to the Third Bar", the fact that there is both a man and a woman singing makes the song all the more romantic. Had only one of them sung it, I think I would've believed the song a lot less as that of a romance and more of just another sad sappy story. The chorus is inexplicable (well, at least for me). It has the most elevating pick up. Whenever the word "arms" is said, the editor does a cool "heavenly" effect...he makes the word linger away from the chorus and it actually sounds really beautiful.
The second song that I felt the sameish feeling with was "(Kissed You) Good Night by Gloriana. Now, this song is completely cheesy. It is such a young girl's song. But again, this song has both a girl and guy in it and maybe that's why I liked it so much. Lately, I've been listening to a lot of country and I think that the instruments are actually great. The music industry lately has been so fabricated in the sense that everything is either literally composed off a computer (ex: garage band). And to hear raw instruments is kind of refreshing. I'm not really into country and to be perfectly honest, the lyrics in this song are not the best...but their voices are perfect for the melodies and because of that, I felt INCREDIBLY attached to the song. It was just really nice to listen to it.
The first time I ever felt it was with the song "Set the Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol. I kind of have a guilty pleasure when it comes to music and that guilty pleasure is when a guy and a girl mesh together singing. A lot of people think its too distracting and its hard to figure out who is more prominent in the song etc etc. But I think that it's actually really appealing and when done right, can be really harmonic. In "Set the Fire to the Third Bar", the fact that there is both a man and a woman singing makes the song all the more romantic. Had only one of them sung it, I think I would've believed the song a lot less as that of a romance and more of just another sad sappy story. The chorus is inexplicable (well, at least for me). It has the most elevating pick up. Whenever the word "arms" is said, the editor does a cool "heavenly" effect...he makes the word linger away from the chorus and it actually sounds really beautiful.
One of those Days
...When you wake so blissfully happy
and it feels as though you're completely out of any kind of harm's way.
 |
| I feel like exploding with joy |
Aug 21, 2012
I Was Here (United Nations World Humanitarian Day Perform...
I don't care how famous this video is right now. I try my hardest to push myself as far away from what is "pop" and in style. But shit, this video deserves as many likes and views as it possibly can. A lot of people compare Beyoncé to Rihanna, Lady Gaga etc. I really don't think she stands on the same level. Whenever I watch Beyoncé act, sing or dance, I'm always stunned by the amount of sincerity and passion she carries in her eyes, her expressions and her body language. I was asked today by someone what this song even meant. It's very simple: she expresses a level of insecurity and fear in regards to leaving this planet without leaving her own "footprint." And wow, that is relatable as hell. To know that most people on this planet are born, grow, wake up, go to sleep, and leave this earth without making much of an impact on the 7 billion human beings in the planet is a real esteem downer. For her to then share this song and compare it to the fear of those who work in the U.N. of not being able to help those in need was incredibly moving. Having been basically raised at the United Nations International School, I know that those who stand on the podium of the General Assembly only got to that spot because they were worthy of it. I'm in complete support of the I Was Here project. I hope that as I grow older, I take on some responsibilities as an activist. So, I congratulate Beyoncé for successfully passing on her message on behalf of the I Was Here project because from this day on, I will always keep in mind that my ultimate goal should and will always be to help someone out and make my mark on this earth. Thanks to this video, I believe that one day, if many people follow in these footsteps, that our marks will ripple out beyond us and in the end will, in fact, make an impact on the 7 billion (and growing) people in this world. One day, I will look back and know that if I make a difference with even one person, it will be "everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be."
It's rare that one really looks into a song and understands it nowadays and feels as though one can truly relate to it. Because of this sole reason, I will forever and always love "I Was Here" by Beyoncé Knowles.
Aug 20, 2012
Bitterness (Rant)
When I was younger, I was involved in a lot of stupid petty pre-teen drama with girls, who to this day, I still can't come to fully comprehend. And later on, I dealt with some pretty heavy and may I add completely avoidable and unnecessary boy drama. Even further, I then had to deal with some cousin family ridiculousness. I guess it's safe to say that I had enough reason to feel bitter and to have very little faith in relationships and friendships in general because at the time, about a year ago, I felt like I had pretty much failed at developing myself as a young adult.
However, if anything, this year has taught me to see past all issues and the complicated...to see past the jaded, faded and optimistic...to just get past all the bitterness that is thrown at you. I think that at a certain point, we must deal with the cliché "forgive and forget" phrase. A lot of us find it easy to forgive because our mind, and even our body, find it almost impossible to stay angry and afraid for long periods of time. But is forgetting as easy? Forgetting goes completely against our natural wills. It basically begs us to not justify the pain we feel. It leads us to let go of all the unavenged occurrences that have come our way. Forgetting is a talent. And throughout this past year, I really and truly believe that I have almost mastered it. And it's done miracles for me mostly cause I realized that forgetting isn't really shutting the door on one chapter; it just means opening one for you to breathe better.
The mind is something powerful because although it exists in you, it can also function, if you will it to, externally as well. I think that in order for one to forget, one must accept in the mind that forgiveness triumphs bitterness. Not forgetting will always come down to a deep down melodramatic hole. So, I think that I can successfully say that the most important lesson that I've learned throughout the whole of high school is that at the end of the day, one must make decisions that not only are most logical and most reasonable but that also satisfy one's need for happiness. I truly don't believe that one can be happy if one has merely forgiven and not forgotten. Thus, I will try to keep living a life without bitterness and thank god that I've learnt this lesson before entering my final year of high school.
So, after reading anjali's blog, in her latest blog post, she speaks about the limbo state that she has been in when thinking about the last year of high school. I agree with her in the sense that everyone will speak their minds and basically just be who they want to be. I think that, for me, my senior year at high school and my development as an adult will be about letting go of everything that has gone wrong and looking at the upside (I know, cheesy) of every single thing because at the end of the day, bitterness only drags you down.
However, if anything, this year has taught me to see past all issues and the complicated...to see past the jaded, faded and optimistic...to just get past all the bitterness that is thrown at you. I think that at a certain point, we must deal with the cliché "forgive and forget" phrase. A lot of us find it easy to forgive because our mind, and even our body, find it almost impossible to stay angry and afraid for long periods of time. But is forgetting as easy? Forgetting goes completely against our natural wills. It basically begs us to not justify the pain we feel. It leads us to let go of all the unavenged occurrences that have come our way. Forgetting is a talent. And throughout this past year, I really and truly believe that I have almost mastered it. And it's done miracles for me mostly cause I realized that forgetting isn't really shutting the door on one chapter; it just means opening one for you to breathe better.
The mind is something powerful because although it exists in you, it can also function, if you will it to, externally as well. I think that in order for one to forget, one must accept in the mind that forgiveness triumphs bitterness. Not forgetting will always come down to a deep down melodramatic hole. So, I think that I can successfully say that the most important lesson that I've learned throughout the whole of high school is that at the end of the day, one must make decisions that not only are most logical and most reasonable but that also satisfy one's need for happiness. I truly don't believe that one can be happy if one has merely forgiven and not forgotten. Thus, I will try to keep living a life without bitterness and thank god that I've learnt this lesson before entering my final year of high school.
So, after reading anjali's blog, in her latest blog post, she speaks about the limbo state that she has been in when thinking about the last year of high school. I agree with her in the sense that everyone will speak their minds and basically just be who they want to be. I think that, for me, my senior year at high school and my development as an adult will be about letting go of everything that has gone wrong and looking at the upside (I know, cheesy) of every single thing because at the end of the day, bitterness only drags you down.
Aug 18, 2012
More Fear
I promised myself on new years that I would stop putting in effort with people who don't return it back. I think I just don't respect people who claim they care when they only check in your life every once in a while. It's is one thing to have a reason to be distant. But you can't call yourself close to a person if you don't know about the big stuff in their life. The ones who matter in the end are the ones that you made matter. I promised myself that the ones that I thought would count, I'd make the effort with. And those who didn't reciprocate it, well...basically...see you.
Recently, I've been thinking: "I'm not about to change that." But, I think that the scariest thing is when someone comes and shakes every philosophy that you have. The one who comes along and makes you become skeptical of what you were skeptical about in the first place...well yeah--that person is the one you're going to have to fear. I don't have time to be skeptical of myself. And now,
Recently, I've been thinking: "I'm not about to change that." But, I think that the scariest thing is when someone comes and shakes every philosophy that you have. The one who comes along and makes you become skeptical of what you were skeptical about in the first place...well yeah--that person is the one you're going to have to fear. I don't have time to be skeptical of myself. And now,
I'm scared.
To those people who have been a part of the 9 thousand something hits on my blog, buy this
http://www.ebay.com/itm/110937861460?ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT&_trksid=p3984.m1555.l2649#ht_500wt_1085
My object book I blogged about a while back!
My object book I blogged about a while back!
Aug 15, 2012
College Touring
VassarSkidmoreHamiltonColgateBard- Dickinson
TrinityBoston CollegeBoston UniversityNortheastern- Smith
- Mount Holyoke
- George Washington University
- McGill
Let the Senior Year Begin
So I've been writing my extended essay. And I started with this thesis: The division that Robert Frost creates between mankind and nature. I started writing the entire thing and I got a good 800 words in, and suddenly I realized that my entire essay had changed into: The recurring theme of "All is not what it seems" in Robert Frost's poetry. Then, I wrote more and realized that that is utter bullshit because every poem is a metaphor and basically, every poem is not what it seems. So, I changed it to: The relationship that Robert Frost creates between mankind and nature. Hopefully, this will work.
Aug 7, 2012
Florida
I think I'm done with the bitterness.
We fought. We made up.
And at the end of the day, you're not a bad person.
So, I'm gonna let go of all the past feelings.
And, accept that you're the closest family that I've got.
I love you, cuz.
Aug 2, 2012
Crossroads
i feel as though this summer has been the breaking point.
I think for the first time in my life, I'm going through actual...big changes.
And boy, is it scary.
I think for the first time in my life, I'm going through actual...big changes.
And boy, is it scary.
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