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As it turns out life is complicated and messy and gritty and dirty. Call it simple or easy if you want, but you're lying to yourself to feel better. It's hard growing up in today's world, it's hard having friends who betray you or families that are hard to like. We all need those everlasting friends and those moments of clarity where we see our lives flash before us, and those times to be completely carefree. As we crash through the jungle of this life, we all steal a few hearts and break a few bones. But hey. That's life right?

Saturday, February 24, 2007

The Epidemic

There is an epidemic in my school, a disease that creates a rotting stench in the air. As I walk down the halls I want to cover my nose and mouth because of the pungent fog that hangs low, but I refrain. This plague has destroyed lives, ruined relationships, and been the cause of countless cases of violence. This sickness has infected at least half of the student body of my school, but it affects everyone who crosses their paths.

This particular disease has appalling side effects, which include uncontrollable hate and violent outbursts. The epidemic has bee affecting my school since its inception and has now reached a critical stage: normalcy. The infection has survived so many generations and infected so many people that it has become second nature to this town to ignore its presence and turn a blind eye to the frightening side effects.

Many citizens attempt to rationalize the behavior of the infected. They try to pretend as though the contagion is not an issue that needs to be addressed. Instead, the infection is allowed to spread its vile filth unchecked. There is no vaccine to protect against the illness, nor is there any way to tell where it might strike next. Young and old, male and female can all be infected. No formal cure has been approved by the FDA, but it is my opinion that our only chance against this horrifying sickness is education.

You may be wondering what disease I’m talking about and why you have not been informed of such an epidemic. The disease is called racism, and it affects men and women of all nationalities.

Moving to rural Nevada has opened my eyes to the repulsive reality of this ailment. I try my hardest to show respect to those of all ethnicities and beliefs. I was stunned to discover that so few my age feel the same way. Here, the sad reality is this: anyone whose skin is dark, despite their true ethnicity, is stereotyped as a Mexican, and all others are labeled as racist, whether on not they truly are

This ugly disease brings nothing but hate and misery, yet those who even recognize its existence are too afraid to speak up. I, however, can no longer remain silent, but feel I must express my utter disgust for those who cling to their illness and refuse to open their eyes. So I charge you, reader, with this responsibility: If you are a follower, follow a leader who fights against this nauseating disease. And if you are a leader, be one of the few brave enough to stand up for what is right. And for all of you reading this- show some respect to your fellow human beings and have the courtesy to assign names where they belong. Don't prejudice yourself against the people who walk by you in the hall based on the color of their skin.

Friday, January 19, 2007

A Century Plus One

This letter was written to me by a woman whom I knew as Grammy Darling. She was one hundred and one years old when she wrote this letter, six months before her 102nd birthday and her death. I met this great woman only twice, but I felt a connection to her because she was the only grandmother I had known at that point. Both my maternal and paternal grandparents had passed away. Grammy Darling was an amazing woman who had more than her fair share of incredible experiences under her belt. Born in 1900, she passed on in 2001. This is her New Year letter, in which she reminisces about the past 100 years that she had experienced, attached was the first and last letter she ever wrote to me.

A millennium has just flown by

A new one has begun

The world has altered a million ways

As be begin two thousand one.

Realizing the miracles of this century, it seems only a moment compared to the marvels and advancement of progress worldwide.

My daydreaming returns to the horse and buggy days- the open-air carriage that slowly sputtered over unpaved streets. Curtains with fasteners that hooked to the interior partially shielded the new invention from rain and breezes.

A fortunate few added crystal radio sets with earphones to their possessions

An electric light bulb dangled from a cord, which entered the room from the ceiling, offering the luxury of light that now replaced the oil lamp.

Intellectual geniuses were stretching their busy brains to create delicate flying machines to become airborne.

This mode of travel is now a convenient means of commuter travel plus circumventing the globe that has become too small.

Outer space is the challenge – even a man on the moon was a present day accomplishment toward exploring other planets.

And now we speak casually on a hand-phone via satellite.

May I expect in the future, space travel as a sport or hopping to another planet as a vacation holiday?

All this has been or is on the verge of accomplishing during the 100 years of my life, which includes a mere portion of the past millennium.

Dear Katy

It was taken quite a long time to answer your letters, which I appreciated, and how very pleased I am that you are taking an interest in cursive writing. I am proud of you!

My writing is not improving as it has become more difficult to write plus a problem with my vision. I was so pleased to hear from you.

I have been in the hospital again. This time- a virus which has left me quite weak. I must use my three-wheel walker at all times now and my trips are limited. It was a three-day “stay”. My apartment is fortunately close to the dining room where I take only my evening meal.

I expect the earthquake was quite an experience for you. It has been many years since I had experienced another. When I lived in El Salvador, we had many. San Salvador was called “Hammock Valley” then.

Thank you for your very thoughtful letters and I am so pleased to have known you.

Much love,

Grammy Darling (Elmamae Olsen)

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Under the Knife




It's Saturday and I have an appointment with an oral surgeon to have my wisdom teeth extracted. I only have two, they're on the bottom. Unfortunately, the teeth are "impacted", meaning that they're facing sideways instead of straight up, and not only that, but they're growing that way and pressing on my other molars. Impacted wisdom teeth can cause all sorts of problems, cysts, infections, not to mention destroying other teeth. So I have to have them removed before any of that stuff happens. So far I've had a lot of toothaches in that select area in the back of my mouth, and some popping noises when I chewed, which is incredibly annoying. Most problematic, I get cramps on one side of my jaw. It usually happens when I'm chewing gum, and my jaw will just lock and I'll have this shooting pain up my jaw. It sucks. So anyway, I'm going to this oral surgeon guy to get them fixed.

My dad and I get there at 12:45, the time of my appointment, and then sit around for 45 minutes while the receptionist does nothing after checking us in. Finally a nurse comes out and takes me and my dad to a room. We sit there some more, then the nurse plays a video about informed consent. (If the patient doesn't know the risks of the operation they're about the have, the doctor is liable for any complications.) The video is incredibly cheesy, but it goes on and on about all of the awful things that my happen to me while I'm out. (ie. My jaw could be fractured, the nerve in my jaw could be damaged, other teeth might be ruined, I could get an infection, my face could be badly bruised, and oh yeah, I'm going to be in a hell of a lot of pain.

So I'm a little more nervous now, but the doctor puts me at ease. He lowers the chair back, and the nurse takes my right arm and takes my blood pressure and puts something on my finger to monitor my pulse. The doctor takes my left arm and straps it to the arm of the chair. I'm confused, but then I realize that he's about to insert the IV needle. I look away, but I can still hear the paper being torn off of the syringe. He tells me to make a fist like I'm going to punch someone. I do. Then he does a pretty good job of distracting me by asking me about my Christmas vacation. He says there will be a little sting, but I barely feel anything as he inserts the needle into my arm.

He tapes the needle to my arm, then turns around and connects the needle to the bag of fluid by a tube. I'm expecting the doctor to say something like, "Count backwards from ten" or, "you're feeling veeery sleepy", but neither he nor the nurse say anything. The nurse smears some vaseline on my lips so that they won't dry out too badly during surgery. She gives me an oxygen mask that only covers my nose. She tells me to open my mouth, and then she shoves something into my mouth, I can't remember what. The last thing I remember before I went out was her opening a glasses case and taking out a pair of glasses.

I remember nothing after that. I'm told they completed the surgery without complications, so no broken jaw or damaged nerves. I woke up in a different chair. I was pretty groggy, I think the nurse and my dad were talking to me, but I can't really remember what they said. My dad went out to get the car and pull it around to the back. The nurse helped me to the door because I felt like I was gonna pass out. I got out to the car okay, and my dad and I started driving home. I was fine for about half of the car ride. The lower half of my face was so numb, i could feel anything. I thought my face was wet, but I guess that's a common reaction to the anesthesia.

The second half of the car ride was terrible. The numbness was beginning to wear off, and we hadn't gotten the Vidcodin the doctor prescribed, so I could feel my jaw just fine. Let me try to explain the pain to you so you can understand. It felt like someone had ripped open my gums with their fingernails, ripped my teeth out with a pair of pliers, then sewed them back up with fishing line. After that someone had smashed my forehead with a hammer and given me a strong right hook to the jaw. I was hungry (you can't eat/drink 8 hours prior to surgery) and thirsty, and even the Starbucks frappe tasted bad because it was mixing with the blood still coming from my gums.

When we got home I had some of the Vicodin and promptly threw it back up. Apparently nausea is one of the side effects. So it's straight motrin and ibuprofen for me. I'm feeling much better now that I have pain killers in me. My jaw is still pretty stiff and I can't open my mouth very wide because it still hurts, but all in all I'm okay.

The End.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Guess What I'm Craving?




I enter the restaurant of my choice tonight, Morton’s, and leave the noxious smells of the street behind There are dozens of people waiting already, but I’m not too worried. A hostess, as well as dozens of delicious smells greets me. The smells are an augur of the wonders to come. The hostess asks if I am alone, and I reply to the affirmative. Without looking up from her clipboard, she informs me wearily that the wait will be as long as forty-five minutes. I nod agreeably, but she doesn’t see because her head is still ducked close to the clipboard. She asks for my name, and when I give it, she perks up. Immediately, she reaches for a menu and tells me that she’s sure she can find something for me. I smile, thanking her for her consideration.

She leads me through a bevy of tables. The sight of succulent steak and palatable mashed potatoes with sautéed asparagus assaults me. Morton’s has some of the finest gourmet cuisine in the United States. Fresh dough for rolls is flown in everyday from Texas. Morton’s employs only the best chefs. The beef these chefs use is not just any meat; it comes from the finest meatpackers in Chicago. After this premium beef is procured it is aged for a period of two weeks, allowing it time to become naturally tender.

Needless to say, Morton’s is famous for its incredible steaks, and I cannot wait to get one bite into my watering mouth. The head chef himself leaves his station in the kitchen to welcome me, and to my delight, he does not come alone. He rolls a cart along with him, which has a beautiful display of raw, crimson steak. I let my eyes rove over the selection before choosing one that is the perfect thickness with the right amount of marbling. The chef murmurs his assent before rolling the cart back to the kitchen.

As I wait for my steak, I munch on a warm roll and sip icy water. As I watch the waitresses go back and forth from the kitchen with steak after juicy, dripping steak, I can hardly stand it. The scents issuing forth from the kitchen are divine. I am about to stand up from my seat and burst into the kitchen when a waiter appears. He carries with him a tray, and on the tray? My filet mignon, cooked to perfection, mashed red potatoes with butter, and those wonderful asparagus. I am in heaven.

Slowly, I torture myself further by carefully cutting a small piece of steak away from the rest. I impale this piece on my fork and carefully bring it toward my mouth. I can feel it in my mouth, though it is not there. I can feel the juice running down my throat. I can feel the warmth of the steak and the release of flavor mixing with my saliva.

The steak is almost in my mouth, when out of nowhere, my mother appears. She stands next to me, her hands on her hips, and cries, “What are you doing still here? Get out of bed!” Confused, I look around, but Morton’s is melting away. The smells and the steak I was about to enjoy are now gone, replaced by the drab colors of my room. It was a wonderful dream all the same, I suppose. I smile to myself as I catch a whiff of that warm steak.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

American Culture

American Culture is so weird, you know? Our children believe that a fat guy slides down their chimney once a year to give them presents. If that's not weird, I don't know what is. What's with the Easter bunny, you know? What about the tooth fairy. I mean, what strange and odd things Americans value. A fat dude, a giant bunny, a someone who steals your teeth in the middle of the night. Kind of says something about our country. We're a country of people who eat out all the time. We watch television, we spend time on the internet.

When was the last time you picked up a book? Kids these days don't care about literature. What will happen to greats like Charles Dickens, Victor Hugo, and Alexander Dumas? How many people reading this entry even recognize those names? What will happen to classics like "Pride and Prejudice" and "A Tale of Two Cities"? Who will read "The Man in the Iron Mask" or "The Count of Monte Christo"? I very much doubt that any of today's youth have read those books, it's unlikely that they've even seen the movie. Authors like C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and George Owell are forgotten in the new world of science fiction and fantasy begun by Rowling and Paolini. What will happen to Chaucer, Homer, and Shakespeare? Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, O'Henry, and Agatha Christie are lost among a myriad of contemporary mystery authors. John Steinbeck is known only as a cursed name by high school students "forced" to read his masterpieces.

Art is disappearing into a black hole. Who painted the Sistine Chapel? Who carved the David? Who painted Madonna on the Rocks and the Last Supper? What about the Mona Lisa? Do you have any idea who built the Guggenheim? Do you even know what that is? Quick, tell me who painted Starry Night! You don't know, do you?

Art and Literature cannot be appreciated by a generation who has no interest, no knowledge, and no hunger for such things.


Am I the only one?

Fred Astaire




Fred Astaire was a master at what he did. His elegance and grace have never, and could never, be matched by another dancer. Astaire brought charm to film and a delightfulness to song. Fred Astaire was a singer and an actor, but most of all an dancer. The fluidity to his dance numbers is awe-inspiring. The key to Astaire's success was that he made his dances look easy. An incredible amount of strength is necessary to dance like he did, but Astaire made each number a masterpiece. Watching his movements, the perfection of each step, the grace of his hands, is something so beautiful it's hard to take in.


If you're interested seeing beauty interpreted through dance by one of the greatest dancers to ever set foot on a stage, I would encourage you to look into Fred Astaire's collection of movies. I highly recommend his films with Ginger Rogers, but especially "Top Hat", "Swing Time", "Shall We Dance", and "Follow the Fleet". With a signature smile, and his regular top hat and tails, Astaire is astounding in each of the above films.


Tap and ballroom, ballet and swing are encompassed in his dances. In "Shall We Dance" a scene that took 150 takes, in which Astaire and Ginger tap with a twist-in roller skates. In "Carefree" A scene in which Astaire taps-with golf balls. Two weeks and six hundred golf balls later, the scene was finished. In "Follow the Fleet" Astaire and Rogers raise the roof with the song-and-dance number "Let's Face the Music and Dance". In "Swing Time" both a gorgeous tap tribute to Bojangles and one of Astaire and Ginger's most amazing dance numbers ever choreographed, which appears effortless after 350 hours of rehearsals. Each one of Astaire's performances is utterly delightful and, as always, incredibly beautiful and astoundingly choreographed.


In tribute to one of the greatest performers to ever grace the screen, I salute you, Mr. Fred Astaire.










"Can't act...can't sing...balding...can dance a little"-review of Fred Astaire's first screen test

Thursday, December 28, 2006

I'm Speaking Out

Dear Teachers, Staff, and Administration of Albert M. Lowry High School:

I feel that my classes are not fair in grading students. I put in about twice the amount of work as my fellow students, yet even those who put in no effort to their projects receive an equal or better grade.

Some classes (ie. Spanish classes and social studies classes) are ridiculously easy. This allows students who do not understand the material to receive a passing grade. This passing grade sends the student on to the next level when the student has not really learned anything from the class at all.

Cheating at Lowry is rampant. Teachers know it, but are often incapable of proving the fact, or they do not care. Students know it and see it, but never speak up to tell someone. As a student, I have often been approached before a test and asked if I will allow someone to cheat off me. I have always replied to the negative, but that doesn't prevent the student from cheating off of someone else. I know students who regularly copy homework from someone else and cheat on tests, but I don't know what to do about it or who to say something to. If teachers really want to make cheating more difficult, they should appeal to the students.

Winnemucca has a reputation. It's town of drug-abusers. Most of these drug-abusers are students. Teachers often see this and do nothing. Or, in most cases, students walk across the street to smoke their pot, putting them off school property and out of the school's jurisdiction. I opt for a closed campus. Not only will this allow the school to benefit because students must eat on campus and most will buy their lunches, but a closed campus would also keep drug-abusers and smokers from leaving campus for their habits.

Fighting is common at Lowry; there is at least one everyday. Teachers are often not privy to the information of the whereabouts of the fights, but I don't know how they could possibly be blind to the fact that there is fighting. Oftentimes, teachers respond slowly, and arrive on the scene long after a fight is over. Other times, teachers are afraid to come between two students because they are afraid of being hurt. If this is the case, teachers should get help, not just stand there and watch helplessly. If the teacher believes the fight will be over by the time he or she comes back, the teacher should send a student.

Less fighting, fewer druggies and smokers, and less cheating will make for a better learning environment for students such as myself who would actually like to learn something in school. Teachers must take the initiative and make some radical changes. I don't know if this means interrupting your lives to help students, or changing the system, or employing a closed campus, but something needs to be done. The students of Lowry High School, and I, depend on you.
I appreciate a chance to voice my opinions.

Sincerely,

Katy

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Letter to the President

Dear Sir:

I am seriously concerned for the future of our country. Just the other day I was informed that you had signed a new space policy stating that the United States has given itself the right to deny people access to outer space if they deem said people to be hostile to U.S. interests. Sir, the United States cannot own space. It is space. One doesn't own it, one can shoot astronauts into it, orbit satellites in it, or launch probes into it, but one simply cannot own space. The other day a man paraded an elephant an a mariachi band back and forth across the mexican border, and didn't get caught. How is it possible for the United States to regulate who enters and exits outer space, Sir?

By saying that space now belongs to us, the United States is displaying a dangerous amount of arrogance. This arrogance is exactly what makes Americans believe that everyone in the world speaks English, rides in airplanes, and drinks from the faucet. This arrogance, therefore, is also a pathetic show of ignorance and a ridiculous grasping of straws. The United States government has trouble controlling its own country, let alone many other countries around the world. We cannot also govern space.

Ignorant people make for a country of ignorance, Mr. President, that should be pretty self-explanatory. Sir, please make an effort to reduce the amount of blind ignorance that shrouds this country. Please attempt to be a leader in humility instead of arrogance. Practice peace, not warmongering. Show respect in place of condescension. Model leadership, instead of idiocy. And please realize, Sir, that I mean this letter with all due respect. And please realize that the respect that is due you, Sir, is draining into the hole you've dug yourself.

Sincerely,

Me

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Abracadabra

"The Prestige" will dazzle you. It will show you the impossible and you'll love it. It will impress you. It will flabbergast you. You will sit in the theater after having seen it and try to figure out what you just saw. You will want to run back to the ticketbooth and buy another ticket to watch it again. You will want to watch it again, to catch it. One question will haunt you. Was it magic?

"Prestige" is certainly movie magic, there is no doubt about that. After having waited in anticipation for many months for "Prestige", I was pleased to have it exceed my expectations. Starring Christian Bale ("Batman"), Hugh Jackman (Wolverine from "X-Men"), Scarlett Johansson (The Island), Rebecca Hall, and Michael Caine (Secondhand Lions, Alfred from "Batman"), "Prestige" is certainly filled with prestigious people. The cast also include Piper Perabo, Andy Serkis (Gollum), and David Bowie.

Chris Bale and Jackman play two magicians who begin as friends, but the friendship turns to obsessive rivalry when tragedy strikes. Bale is obviously the better magician, but Jackman has flair. When Bale performs "the greatest magic trick he's ever seen", Jackman decides to get even and the make a name for himself at the same time. Their hatred for each other puts Bale's wife and child and Scarlett Johansson in the middle of it all. The danger increases and the intensity rises as the men make attempt after attempt to outwit the other.

Chris Bale and Michael Caine had the most impressive acting, and I loved every minute they were on camera. That's not to say that Johansson and Jackman aren't great too. Surprisingly, Bowie gives a pretty good performance, not at all reminiscient of "The Labyrinth", which is a relief.

According to Caine's character, "Every great magic trick consists of three acts. The first act is called "The Pledge"; The magician shows you something ordinary, but of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn"; The magician makes his ordinary some thing do something extraordinary. Now if you're looking for the secret... you won't find it, that's why there's a third act called, "The Prestige"; this is the part with the twists and turns, where lives hang in the balance, and you see something shocking you've never seen before."

The magician of this movie is the director, and the actors who make his film come alive. When you see "The Prestige", you will see something shocking you've never seen before. You will look for the secret, but you won't find it. Because of course, you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. Interestingly enough, movies, just like illusions, consist of three acts. "The Prestige" converts a film into a magic trick. If you think you have it all figured out, think again. Because the only parts you've seen are the Pledge and the Turn. The Prestige is still to come.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Survey #10

Survey Question 10-3-06: The real reason we invaded Iraq was terrorism, Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMDs), neither, or both?

Number of surveyed: 84

Guys: Terrorists 5%
WMDs 5%
Neither 39%
Both 50%

Girls: Terrorists 10%
WMDs 15%
Neither 23%
Both 52%

Totals: Terrorists 8%
WMDs 11%
Neither 30%
Both 63%

Unfortunately, considering that the Iraqis do not have WMDs, never had WMDs, and never will have WMDs, and the 9/11 tragedy had nothing to do with Iraq and everything to do with a terrorist network called Al Qeda, our country really invaded Iraq for no reason at all. Very few people who said neither actually thought our invasion was for good reason. Most of them just hate Bush, but a few said, "We went to IRaq to set up a new government for them."

Just think about that for a minute. It is any of our business what other people's governments are like. It is not our business to replace all monarchies, dictatorships, etc. with democracies. If we were going to replace a government with our own, why not Cuba's? Cuba's DICTATOR, Fidel Castro, has been ruling in that country for how long? Here's another example: Darfur. Darfur is a region in Sudan, which is in Africa. An ethnic cleansing is going on in Darfur. FOr those of you who don't understand the term "ethnic cleansing", think Hitler and the Holocaust. A radical Muslim group is forcing the Christians and those who practice traditional African religions out of the country. The key word there is "force". This force involves raiding, burning and pillaging defenseless villages. Kidnapping children and forcing them to watch their parents be killed. Giving the kidnapped orphans guns and forcing them to shoot people. Using children as sex slaves.

The whole world has just sat back and watched this atrocity go on. And America, the self-named "peacekeepers of the world" have ignored it too. We can't just leave Iraq, it's too late for that. But doesn't this speak volumes about the US priotities and values? Doesn't this make you think twice about our government and our goals as a country?

Is anyone else crying for Darfur? Is anyone else speaking out? I am.

Survey #9

Survey Question 10-2-06: Do you think our country is doing the right thing in Iraq or do you agree with the Iraq War?

Number of surveyed: 98

Location: Lowry

Guys: YES 38%
NO 49%
NUETRAL 13%

Girls: YES 19%
NO 53%
NUETRAL 28%

Totals: YES 30%
NO 51%
NUETRAL 19%


At last, survey results that please. Most of those who voted neutral didn't know enough about the Iraq War to choose anything different. Many people said yes and then when I asked why told me that the Iraqis had bombed our towers, so of course we were going after them! I would close my eyes and slowly shake my head and then inform them that no one bombed us, and the Iraquis hadn't produced those terrorists, nor harbored them. Confused, they would attempt to argue, but it was no use. "Why did we declare war on them?" They'd ask, and I had no answer for them. Is there an answer to that question? A justifiable, reasonable answer for the war in Iraq? You tell me because I can't think of one.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Survey #8

Survey Question 9-29-06: Can you name the 8 continents?

Number of surveyed: 52

Location: Lowry

The Results:

Guys: YES 48%
NO 33%
There's 7 19%

Girls: YES 32%
NO 23%
There's 7 45%

Totals: YES 48%
NO 27%
There's 7 35%

Does this make any of you think twice? Considering that there are only 7 continents (Africa, Asia, Europe, North America, South America, Australia, and Antarctica) it should. Girls spotted the trick question from a mile away, but it took guys forever to figure it out. I had to tell them to count those continents again. Usually they said Africa twice. Or named the North Pole or India or Canada. Sadness, eh?

Survey #7

Survey Question 9/28/06: Of these three actors, whose autograph would you get?

Number of surveyed: 67

Location: Lowry

The Results:

Guys: Johnny Depp 30%
Samuel L. Jackson 63%
Orlando Bloom 7%

Girls: Johnny Depp 60%
Samuel L. Jackson 8%
Orlando Bloom 30%

Grand Totals: Johnny Depp 50%
Samuel L. Jackson 30%
Orlando Bloom 20%

This survey proves that guys will choose the macho action hero over everything else. Girls on the other hand will choose the cute, smooth, and romantic. AKA, Johnny Depp. Poor Orlando Bloom got slammed by all the guys I talked to. He ended up getting about 14 votes in all to Johnny Depp's 32. I voted for Mr. Depp.

Survey #6

Survey question 9/27/06: Beatles or Rolling Stones, which is better?
Number of surveyed people: 122
Location: Lowry

Guys: 36% Beatles
29% Rolling Stones
11% Both
25% Neither

Girls: 47% Beatles
24% Rolling Stones
10% Both
18% Neither


Making for the grand totals of:

40% Beatles
27% Rolling Stones
11% Both
22% Neither

Sadly, classic rock has lost much of its appeal. And just as sad, the majority of the girls had no idea who The Beatles were. When I mentioned Paul McCartney they understood, but they didn't recognize The Beatle's name. How unfortunate, how much they're missing out on.

Survey #5

Question: Do you think Timbuktu is a real place?
Number of surveyed people: 121
Boys: YES 73%
NO 27%

Girls: YES 72%
NO 28%

Total: YES 73%
NO 27%

Well at least we know something about geography. Timbuktu, also spelled TOMBOUCTOU, is a city in the West African nation of Mali. (source: http://thesalmons.org/lynn/wh-timbuktu.html just in case you'd like to read more about it)

Friday, September 22, 2006

Survey #4

Question: Of these three TV shows, which would you rather watch, Simpsons, 24, or Lost?

Location: Lowry H.S.

The Results:

Boys

Simpsons: 72%
24: 4%
Lost: 8%
None: 16%


Girls

Simpsons: 44%
24: 5%
Lost: 34%
None: 16%


Totals

Simpsons: 56%
24: 5%
Lost: 23%
None: 16%

This most scientific over surveys serves to point out that teenagers are much more interested in the rude and crude than in the suffering of others, or government or politics. And just think, in a few years these teenagers will be voting for our next President, signing papers, driving cars. You parents and teachers out there: These are your kids. I sometimes feel responsible for the education of my peers. But in reality, that's your responsibility. You are sending your kids out into the world knowing everything there is to know about crude jokes, fashion, and movies, but without any opinions of their own. Children go out into the world, not knowing anything about politics or our government. As Happy Bunny says: "Kids are the future. Frightened?"



Because you should be.



Am I the only one who sees this disastrous future looming over us?

Be afraid. Fear for the future. And use that fear to do something constructive. Teach us something. Please.

I am ashamed of my fellow students, of my peers, of my generation. Will we learn nothing? And go out into the world to do nothing?

Your blushing blogger,

Katy

Survey #3

Survey question 9/21/06: Do you know the first Disney Princess, Cinderella, Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty? Number of peopled surveyed: 92. Location: Lowry H.S.

Guys:

24% Cinderella
42% Snow White
33% Sleeping Beauty


Girls

47% Cinderella
34% Snow White
19% Sleeping Beauty


Making for the grand total of:

39% Cinderella
37% Snow White
24% Sleeping Beauty.

My very scientific survey proves that because of Cinderella's media coverage and the numerous rehashes of the Brothers Grimm's story, it has become most famous. Sleeping Beauty was thought by a few, very passionate believers to be the first, but as it turns out, the majority of voters were wrong. Snow White was in fact the first Disney Princess, being released in 1937. Cindrella followed thirteen years later in 1950, and Sleeping Beauty nine years after that in 1959.

Tomorrow's survey question and its result will be posted tomorrow on this blog as well as on my myspace blog. See the sidebar links to go to my myspace.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Survey #2


Today's survey question was, "Can you name the current vice president of the United States?" Out of 204 people, here are the results:

Men:

58% YES
42% NO


Women

45% YES
56% NO


Making for the grand total of:

51% said YES
49% said NO

Tomorrow's survey question and its result will be posted tomorrow on this blog as well as on my myspace blog. See the sidebar links to go to my myspace.

Your favorite surveyor who still faithfully blogs,

Katy

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Survey #1

For the last few days, my sister and I have been taking a different survey everyday. It started out pretty silly. We asked about 15 people throughout the day if they knew where Genovia was, or if they were afraid of sunlight. By the way, Genovia is a nonexistent country in the movie Princess Diaries. Anyway, today I decided to ask people if they considered themselves to be beautiful (or good-looking for the guys). I approached around 163 people and asked them the above question. I received 162 "yes"s, "no"s, and "not sure"s. And one, "What the heck to I care?". But anyway. Here are the results:

Men:

58% YES
32% NO
9% NOT SURE


Women

54% YES
32% NO
11% NOT SURE


Making for the grand total of:

57% said YES
32% said NO
12% said NOT SURE

I'll post the results of tomorrow's survey tomorrow. Please leave comments on whether or not you consider yourself to be beautiful or good looking, and especially ideas for other survey questions.

Your blogger-and-now-recent-surveyor,

Katy

My Dream Guy

Do you guys out there want to know what women want? Are you dying to understand the woman's psyche? Would you kill for a chance inside a girl's head, to figure out exactly what they want from you? Well here's you chance. A look inside my head. Your chance to find out what I'm looking for.

My perfect guy has a great personality. He is funny and charming, he always has a comeback and he loves to tease. Dream Guy is sweet and romantic. He buys me a dozen roses on my birthday and signed the card, "with love". This Guy cares about me. He's not just looking for a pretty face, but he actually cares about me.

When we cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, he puts his arm around me and we eat popcorn, and drink sodas, and laugh at all the right parts and cry when the hero dies. When we watch something scary he lets me hold his hand and laughs when I close my eyes. When I get scared, he holds me tight as I clutch his arm tightly and bury my face in his shoulder. This guy knows when to talk and when to be quiet during a movie. If he was one step over perfect, he might even watch The Notebook with me. :)

Dream Guy is well-read. Reading might not be his favorite past time, but he has read a wide variety of books and knows who I'm talking about if I say C.S. Lewis or JRR Tolkein or Orson Scoot Card or Victor Hugo. Dream Guy will let me retell the entire storyline of the book I just read.

When I come to school in the morning, he's there with a coffee in his hand. He knows that I like it with plenty of milk and sugar, and that even though he may prefer it black, I don't. He hands me the coffee and asks me how I am. He tells me how great I look, even if I don't. Whether I've showered or not, he'll tell me that I smell nice, and we'll smile at each other.

This Dream Guy takes care of me. He knows my favorite foods and my favorite kinds of movies. He knows my favorite color and the title of my favorite book, the name of my favorite authors, my locker number and combo, and any other details about me. This information doesn't come from Dream Guy becoming my stalker. We've gotten to know each other over time, and I tell him secrets and things about me because I trust him.

I know his locker and combo too and we leave messages for each other inside. On my birthday, he comes to one of my classes with a cupcake and a candle and singshappy birthday to me. That day is awesome. He has decorated my locker and gives me a roses and a box of my favorite chocolates. I grin and know I've picked a great guy.

He's willing to embarass himself for me. He stands up for me and holds my hand. If I'm having a bad day, he knows how to comfort me. If I'm depressed he knows how to lift me up. If I'm angry, he can calm me down.

This guy is no ordinary guy. He is probably taller than me and he probably has beautiful eyes and a cute nose. Most likely he dresses well. But I don't really know. This Dream Guy, this Mystery Man is just that. A Mystery. I don't know when I'll meet him or if I already have met him. Maybe I talk to him everyday in the hall but don't know who is is quite yet. Like I said, I don't know. I might find him now, or I might find him later. But what I do know is that he is out there. And he's looking for me.