As requested... lol.

At the request of a fellow blogger, I'd like to take this time to discuss a certain teacher of mine who had an intense influence on the way I think today. Not only because he requested it, but because I'm thinking about thinking and it's making my head hurt, so I want to type it out.

All too often, teachers are useless. They spend more time teaching students worthless information that simply goes through my head, instead of teaching us life.

That should be a class. Life.

Well, we came pretty damn close in my eighth grade SAGE history class. It wasn't history (well, it was, but whatever). It was more. We were expected to actually use our brains, instead of just writing boring dates on paper. I learned a lot about the real world, and the areas of study that I was once blind to are now clear.

He told us what it meant to be abused by government, and how to live in reality. I'm sick of teachers telling kids a bunch of lies about happy little politicians that prance around and write constitutions in their spare time. They also tell us that dreams always come true, and I can tell you firsthand that they don't. If they did, I'd be living in a much bigger house in a different country and not attending school...

Anyway, Life. It should be a class. Mr. C, keep it up. Teach them Life. Teach those blind little junior high kids Life. They need it. I did, and I'm glad today I know how to think the way I do.

Thinking about thinking. It's what I love to do. I think of how I think of how I think. Wow. My mind hurts. That could be from the music I'm blaring, though.

I've said enough, don't you think? But then again, if I typed everything that ran through my head, you'd be reading for a century or two...

Here's to the truth
Abigail<3

Told you it would be less frequent...

Yep, it's been fifteen days since I've posted. Pathetic? Yes. Excused? Most definitely.

Swim team's still very undefeated. Season's halfway over though. :( I know for a fact that I'll miss these girls when it's over.

Music's in my head right now. Many people think that I'm nuts, but it's just the jukebox in my mind. I'll get like ten songs stuck at once and they'll combine to become possibly the most interesting form of entertainment known to mankind.

For example: Take Billy Joel's "For the Longest Time" and mix that with "Pop Goes the Weasel." Now add "Sexyback" by Justin Timberlake. You get a sexy weasel singing an a capella song.

See what I mean? It's fun. Right now it's "Face Down" by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, "Me and You" by Kenny Chesney, and Nickelback's "Savin' Me." It's kind of like a love song that morphs into a story of abuse that ends with a cry for salvation. Yeah... I love this.

Time for bed. You won't see another post for maybe two weeks, so here's to life, liberty, and lots of Starbucks.

Adiós, chicos.

Abbs<3

Update

Considering that I'm back in school and the homework is piling up, it looks as if this blog will become a less frequented friend. I'll try my best to update, but you know how it goes...

So the swim team has been in 2 meets so far, and we're undefeated. We crushed one of our biggest rivals on Thursday and then beat 7 other teams in a relay meet on Friday (including that same rival). It was actually quite funny- a mistake on the scores sheet actually put them in first and us in second, but when our coach caught the mistake (after the meet) we were officially awarded first. The other team doesn't know about it yet though... This could be interesting.

Life is in full gear, and I'm doing fine.

Random thought of the day (among many unposted others): There is a mathematical conjecture entitled the Poincare Conjecture that states that you cannot take a donut shape and turn it into a sphere without ripping it. I find that interesting, and quite fun to think about. Try it.

Speaking of donuts- Dunkin' Donuts has amazed me. Maybe it's just my complete adoration of Starbucks coffee variations, but could anyone explain to me how this popular breakfast food chain can get away with their iced coffee? It's coffee with ice cubes in it. Please. It's called a blender. Even I know how to use one, and I'm culinarily (is that a word?) slow. Spare me these unending trials...

That's a Phantom of the Opera quote, by the way. "What a way to run a business! Spare me these unending trials."

Yep. I'm just typing nonsense. But hey, at least I'm not the bloke who's reading it right now...

Abby<3

Crikey!

I read today on my Yahoo homepage that Steve Irwin was killed when a stingray's poisonous barb slashed his heart.

I find it terribly sad. Not only is he leaving behind a wife and two kids, he's leaving the rest of us without a Crocodile Hunter. Every time someone says "Crikey!" or makes a joke about him now, it will cease to be funny after a few moments and will be strikingly sad.

I felt like putting a tribute to him in here, considering that I'll never be able to wrestle with a crocodile or catch a python and that's the kind of living everyone should do. The daring kind.

Rest in peace, Steve.

Hate's a bit strong of a word...

I was recently asked what exactly I have against MySpace, so I figured I'd clear things up a bit with an explanation.

I don't hate MySpace itself (as in the actual site and its affiliates); it's the frenzy that bothers me. People spend hours on these spaces, decorating them and writing their life stories and making hundreds of "friends," mostly people they don't even know. It just seems so... I don't know. Typical?

Everyone wants one to be like everyone else. Don't people want to be different anymore? Perhaps it's just my age, or my beliefs. But I feel that if I conformed and got myself a MySpace, I'd be just like every other teenager in this world.

People will tell me it's jealousy. I'm just jealous because I don't know how to make one or that I won't have as many "friends" as they do. Quite frankly, that's absurd. I do know how to make a MySpace (it's not that hard!) and I'd rather have two "friends" on MySpace than a bunch of people I don't even know trying to get into my Top 8. So jealousy isn't the cause of this feeling.

People will also tell me that I'm just being stubborn, purposely not getting a MySpace because I just want to be different to be difficult. I will admit to being stubborn, and also to wanting to be different (but not difficult). Those two factors probably have something to do with the fact that I don't like MySpace. But that's really nobody's business, don't you think? I've always been stubborn, and I've always wanted to not be like everyone else. So I didn't invent these traits because of MySpace.

So that's the explanation. I hope it cleared the air and didn't murder anyone's love for MySpace. I'd hate to get in the way of such an intimate, true relationship...

Abbs<3

Becoming "worldly," one small step at a time

So me and these four lovely chicas have a pact going that involves dinner and lunch dates at least once a month. It's a tradition I'd love to see carry on into our adult years, something that could keep us tied together for life to come. It's a great chance for us to bond and become closer, to keep our friendship strong.

And it's also freaking hilarious.

First date: Chinese restaurant. I ask for a Sunkist, and I'm promptly chastised. The conversation:

"Umm, could I please have a Sunkist? Orange pop?"
"NO! OTHER POP!" (with deep chinese accent)
"Umm... I guess I'll have a Coke then?"
"Angry mumble mumble mumble..."

Yes. So now, I'm not allowed to order orange pop. Now our meals have come, and because we're sharing our food, we ask for extra plates. There are five of us.

We get four plates.

Second date: Thai restaurant. One of our number is missing (dear god we missed her!!) so we're down to four. We order three meals and share them, as always.

One of us, who we'll call Lo, has an issue with spice. We've ordered everything mild, the lowest spice level, and though I'd love to bump it up to medium, I'm enojying myself.

Lo is trying not to laugh as she continues to battle the spices.

There's not enough water and Thai iced tea for her to handle the pressure. The rest of us are laughing as she tries to take a bite of fried rice ("kow pad") without drinking anything to soothe the "burn."

We won't be back there for awhile.

Today we discussed how worldly we're becoming, how cultured we are now that we've been to both a Chinese AND a Thai restaurant. We're trying new things, stepping out of our zones, you know? I recommended sushi for our next visit, but it may have to wait until one of us gets a license because we just can't walk that far...

Anyway, about being worldly. We're trying our wings out in the world, pushing our limits. Yet I can't help but ask myself if it's the world we're discovering, or if the world is discovering us.

If it's the latter, the world may need some time to cope...

Abigail<3>

Nine huh?

As I recently heard from multiple sources, Pluto has lost its title as a planet. This certainly upsets me, and I will explain why.

First of all, I've grown up with the comfort of knowing that there are nine planets in our solar system. Nine lovely, whirling planets that were always planets and were always there to be studied. Now I'm told that everything I've learned in science classes about Pluto is completely and utterly WRONG. WRONG WRONG WRONG. And what about that cute little phrase we learned in elementary school? My very educated mother just served us nine huh? Nine what? I suppose now they'll say "noodles" instead of "nine" but it just doesn't sound as appealing as "nine pizzas." I'd take the pizzas.

Secondly, as a young adult aspiring to become prosperous in a field of science that deals mainly with space, it is slightly upsetting to be thrown off like this. What do we call it now, Pluto the not-planet? Pluto the rock? Pluto the orbiting, spinning, almost-planet that pretty much is a planet but can't be considered one because a bunch of scientists said so? So frustrating.

And finally, aren't there black holes and fifth dimensions to think about instead of wondering if Pluto is a planet or not? I understand the need to have answers, the want to know, but still... We have so much more to discover about our universe; limiting ourselves to Pluto's classification seems a bit weak.

Rest in peace, Pluto the planet.