Lantern-eyes
I love that her eyes don't quite match; the one on the left is slightly orange, the other more green. What a cutie. She's getting pretty old, though. The bright side is that she's far more affection than she used to be, and it's harder to get a rise out of her; she used to lash out at the slightest thing. It's sort of sad to watch her get old, though.
She sleeps in my bed at night, and tolerates it when I toss and turn; I definitely have thrown my arm on her a couple times, and she just growls and goes back to sleep. Wonderfully warm to snuggle up to, though; she sleeps right against my stomach when I'm curled up.
My beloved kitty! (Whom my father named "Gray Matter" against my suggestion of Rosy.... probably more suitable a name.)
Why we put our teens behind the wheel
By the way, Elise totally took that picture of the palm tree trimmer out of the driver's window of her car..... as she drove and I steered.
That time of the year
Yes, that's right. Time for palm trees to get their annual trim. And, more significantly, FIRE SEASON. The sky is orange, and the light is weird and heavy. Everything seems overly lit with an orangish tinge; since the grass is brown and dry, it seems to glow, firelike. Eerie, very eerie. Even the brown trunks of trees glow in this light. Three years ago a fire was almost started in the canyon by my house..... now every year when fire season rolls around, I can't help but feel apprehensive - getting stuff together and out of the house and far, far away from the mountains is an ordeal. Flash back 12 years, when my parents and I first moved to this house; we had just gotten all the furniture and boxes moved, but nothing was unpacked. At around 3:00 in the morning my mother came and woke me up, bringing me into her bedroom. "Look out there," she said, and pointed across the canyon to four small, separate blazes on the mountainside. We stood there, my mom and my dad and I, watching the fire grow until it became apparent that it was out of control. And then, in a panick, we threw what we could find from the boxes easiest to reach into the car; I was crying for my books, so my mother tore through boxes till she reached one with a few books at the top, grabbed them, and pushed them with me into the car. My dad set the sprinkler on the lawn, and we sped out of the yard.
I remember having a dream that night in which the hotel we stayed in towered over the mountains; I looked down from the top story at the mountains far below, as they burned.
It's funny, though, I feel sort of immune to the fires, possibly because of that 1994 fire; it jumped the canyon less than a mile south of my house, and only about a quarter mile north, and it didn't get my house. Three years ago someone tried to start a fire in the canyon, and it wouldn't take (it didn't help that it had just rained, and that the guy stuck around till the sheriffs came).
But I still make that little mental inventory every fall of what I'm going to grab if we ever need to evacuate.
Labels: california
Breathe
I'm a little more relaxed now, definitely. The essay's written, everything is put together and ready to be turned in. It was just a moment of terror when I looked at my email and saw that this essay and this scolarship stuff is all due tomorrow. One of those moments that I don't want to go through again. Here's hoping the trust I put in the CommonApp will help me be always on time and prepared well in advance for all essays that need writing. And no more breakdowns. At least this scholarship essay involved no tears, because the CommonApp essay definitely did. But that's written, and though I have to do revisions,
it's good enough, so if rewriting it is an ordeal, I can just submit it as is.
And wouldn't you know it, I'm starting to get restless again. Yes, it's wonderful being home. No, it's not the same as Europe. So when the representative from St Andrews came, I listened, practically drooling, to everything he had to say in his Scottish accent with his deadpan British humor; and everything appealed to me. I love the looks of the University. I love the looks of the town. I love the idea of being right there in Europe. And I love the idea of being near Italy.
But of course, patience, patience. Here's my list at the moment: St Andrews, Swarthmore, Reed, Macalester. Possibly Sarah Lawrence, possibly Bard, possibly Middlebury. I want to keep it simple, but not so simple that I haven't got good chances. As is, I'm brilliantly happy with the list. So, vediamo.
Labels: college
Deadline
Feeling slightly hysterical. Like I want to laugh and cry, and nothing I write is good enough, because this is an essay that could win me $2,000 for college, and I've forgotten to write it till the night before. And I hate it, because it's too verbose and frivolous, as all my writing always is; but I hate the scholarship, too, because it wants a boring, horrible list of accomplishments, with simple, stated brilliance, which I cannot write in a million years.
So I'll just breathe and write what comes out, and hope that it implies a little brilliance, at least enough to merit those $2,000. I don't need it, but it would be nice.
Breathe.
Labels: college
How deep is too deep?
"I'm applying to a college that has a J Crew across the street, and they give student discounts."
Well sure, that's a nice perk. But something that would even be on the radar when considering a college? Admittedly I haven't been on the college scene very long, but this one blew me away. Maybe it's just because I've never been to J Crew. Or Abercrombie & Fitch. Or Banana Republic. So honestly I could care less. Now, if someone said "Trader Joe's," I'd definitely perk up. Other perks? Vicinity to a city, nice cafes, good college town or city with jobs available and affable people, and some good trails and/or bike paths. But having good name stores is not something that would ever appeal to me. In fact, I'm trying to veer clear of those colleges that are labeled super preppy. You know, the ones with polo shirts and those knit cabled sweaters, and huge sunglasses and leather purses? The people I got to know in Italy are all so unaffected by the lure of designer brands; many of them have to carefully watch their money, and when they do buy something it's something that will be significant. In fact, much of the time that I was with them I felt the tiniest twinge of guilt that I am from Pasadena, affluent as it is and fixated on television shows and actors and glamorous clothes that will last for a year, maybe two.
I love this city; that's not at doubt. Every time I come back to Los Angeles after being away I feel hungry for it and its palm trees and the skyscrapers and its gorgeous, weathered mountains. I love the air (polluted though it may be, it is distinctly of Los Angeles, and therefore wonderful); I love the sunsets, brilliant and gorgeous; and I love those two days a year that I actually go to the beach. What I don't love is how materialistic a city it is.
Right now Rose Court tryouts are being held at the Wrigley mansion in Pasadena. Almost every girl in my class (and indeed in the entire valley) is trying out for what is undoubtedly a very prestigious and probably very fun role as one of the beatiful, flower-bearing girls on the float in the New Year's Rose Parade. One queen, six princesses. Seven girls out of several hundred. Many are just trying out to get tickets to the Ball (which, I must admit, sounds somewhat alluring, though that may just be because it is called a Ball and not a Dance); but many more hope to make their way to the final rounds. Which, I hear, practically guarantees a place at USC (shhhh! it's unofficial)
So right now at school there's the flurry that must accompany any beauty contest; regarding clothes and makeup and hair and seldom the actual significance of being Rose Queen. And though it may mean the world to someone, it all seems so terribly frivolous. Between endless talk of tryouts, and then J Crew being offered as a major deciding factor in picking a college, I feel like I'm being engulfed in one giant cloud of superficiality; and it makes me feel slightly rebellious, makes me want to say "hey, what's important?"
And I want to thank my friends from Italy, who really made me realize that what makes your time most worthwhile is just enjoying one another, and just being. Which, up there with academics, is my top priority for a college. None of those preppy schools for me, thanks.
Labels: college
Kind of beat
I feel like I've been colorless and dull all week, but that's hardly the truth. On Wednesday I finished school at 11:30 and met with a new teacher at school who speaks some Italian and will be the head of my Italian club. She was really wonderful, with an absolutely stunning smile, and is totally enthused about the club. And afterward I went down to the senior room and ate chocolates, and Marisa and I sat in the papa san chair and laughed for an hour.
Plus, Monday, Wednesday and Friday were easy days, with only 2 classes each. So I certainly wasn't sweating it this week. My homework load has been remarkably light. And yet I'm feeling pretty drained. I wonder if it could possibly be because I spent so much time laughing. I think this is the very lowest I've felt all week, and I'm not even feeling down, just exhausted. I guess there are no complaints to be had when the only one is that I'm tired from smiling.
However I am starting to feel ever so faintly frantic about college. It's such a fun, wonderful thing on the horizon, and yet there still remains that one huge, horrible word: DECISION. But it's not even the decision that's making me feel pressed for time; it's all the papers, all the application materials and supplements with their due dates and all the various people I have to go to in order to get everything turned in..... It just seems like too much for me to get all together!
But I'll try and get back on the bogging scene. I've been sadly remiss this week. Cheers!
Labels: college, Westridge
Monday...
What else is there to say? School was fun. In Latin we had a test that was an hour long, to celebrate the new schedule's 80-minute blocks. It was an okay test, just long. But, it's Catullus, and Catullus is always cool. Poems 10, 96, 50-something..... eh, I have no idea, and checking would involve getting up. But amusing, and my first exposure to Catullus. Definitely a sight more interesting than Vergil, whom I learned to despise last year. Sorry, buddy. Just not quite as exciting as Homer.
Eye appointment after school, I spent a long time debating over whether to get modest, normal looking frames, or giant square thick plastic red frames..... after about 30 minutes of trying on one, then the other, I finally decided on a nice compromise. Roundish, to fit my face, with (you guessed it) thick plastic red frames. I guess the only thing I compromised on was the square shape. But they're cool, and I'll get them in a couple weeks, and then I'll finally be able to take my contacts out more often, not have them in from 6:30 in the morning till 11:00 at night. Sweet.
Once again, with this blessed new schedule, I had no homework tonight! Well, about 40 minutes of reading. And.... yeah, that was about it. I did my calc homework on Saturday while babysitting two adorable twins, and there isn't any bio homework due.... I LOVE THIS SCHEDULE!
So yeah, Monday down, 4 days to go. I can deal with that. Actually, I wouldn't even be counting down days if I didn't have my Italian group on Saturday. Man, I miss speaking Italian, and coming out of that group, which is Italian for an hour and a half is really tough, because for 90 minutes I'm back in Italy and then suddenly WHAM, I walk out the door saying "ciao" and "ci vediamo" and I'm in Pasadena. Which is a wonderful place. Full of English speakers. But it's not Italy, and that's what I'm missing right now.
But I have a possible job that'll help use up all that extra time between 3:00 when school ends and 10:00 when I go to bed, and tutoring once a week with a kid going through the court system, and I'm trying to get on top of reading just for fun again, and if all else fails there's always an episode of SVU on, so I think Saturdays will come zooming up at me every week.
Labels: Westridge
Not in the zone?
Well, I'm brilliant. Even days at school are the days on which I have only two academics, those being English followed by Latin. On days 2 and 4, Latin is followed by 2 frees (G and H block). So after Latin today I went downstairs to the Senior room, got comfy in the Papa san chair, and finished a load of homework due tomorrow... I ate a candy bar or two, I listened to music, and enjoyed my first free. Until an hour had passed and I went up to my locker to get some more homework to finish, and just happened to notice the schedule I have posted right inside the door. It said, "G Block: College Seminar."
I debated whether I should wait the extra 20 minutes till class ended and people came out to lunch to say, "Holly, where were you?" Then I could just say, "SHIT, I totally forgot!" and race off to apologize profusely to the College Counselor. But instead I walked the walk of shame, and with 15 minutes left till lunch, I went to class. I opened the door, and there was a murmur, the "oooh, she's gonna get it" kind, and I slunk over to an empty seat (conveniently on the other side of the classroom from the door), and collected the necessary handouts, and pretended I'd been in class all along.
What I learned today? I am so not going to get into college. Even if I do get in I'll probably forget that Orientation starts a week early. *sigh*
Labels: Westridge
The good, the wonderful, and the beautiful
That's right. It's an iPod. And that spiffy, colorful case? It took me a whole day to make, and several "first drafts" so to speak, between You've Got Mail and My Best Friend's Wedding, not to mention sneaking into the kitchen for a bite of food every half hour. I am a true hedonist at heart.
But yeah, I got a tape adaptor ages ago, before I had this iPod and before I realized that I had given away my CD player 3 years ago..... so now it's in constant, constant use, and I love it. That is the reason I got this iPod, which has had to replace my beloved previous iPod, which died last October. I waited nearly a year, of which 8 months involved hours of train travel and 3 months involved daily commute to work and home, and now I think I've earned this iPod and the right to listen to all the music that I want to as often as I want to. I'm trying not to listen to it as compulsively as I would listen to my old iPod.... though you don't want me in your passenger seat unless you're willing to give me complete and utter control over the music.
Photos up again and running
I ended up just erasing my entire iPhoto library after I got everything onto CD, and then putting all the pictures back on the computer.... time consuming, god yes, but worth it to know NEVER TO MESS WITH iPHOTO AGAIN, and also just to gain a new and valuable appreciation for all of my photos. Maybe it's bad to have totally inanimate digital-age objects be so significant, but they're my way of recording where I go and who I'm with, and when I look at them I remember how I felt when the photos was taken, and in a way I keep my experiences in the photos, since I'm a naturally forgetful person. So, damn am I glad to have them all safely stored away again, and 100% backed up.
Unexpected error
"When an error occurred unexpectedly Mac OS X was shut down..." Is that allowed to even
happen?
Thank you
Numbers in Italian, from 14:
quattordici, quindici, sedici, diciasette.... notice a difference? Because I do. I have reached the age where the "dici" is no longer at the end - it's now at the beginning. Gone are the days of
quindici, sedici, here are the years of
diciasette! I am seventeen! I AM 17; I am SEVENTEEN; I AM SEVENTEEN; i am 17; I am
seventeen; I am 17! I AM seventeen! Finally!
Thanks mom, for taking me out to dinner at Bakers Square (even though we didn't have time for pie) and to Little Miss Sunshine; thank you Kirk for the music gift card; thanks to my friends for throwing me a surprise party at the park, especially Elise for organizing it; thank you to everyone for leaving me messages; thanks to Nancy for a mystery box in the mail; thanks Armida for calling me all the way from Italy! Thank you everyone, and if I didn't mention you, I'm still thinking of you.
And thank you iPhoto, for not deleting all my photos in the end, though you certainly tried.
Photo crash-and-burn
I know I haven't had any photos up for a while, here or on my
Flickr site, and for that there is a very good reason. My computer can't find my photos. Basically. iPhoto just won't recognize any of my photos, which I guess means technically they're still there in Finder, and I can open and edit them in Preview.... however I miss the easy accessibility and usability of iPhoto, which shows a little exclamation mark of doom every time I try and open any of the photos. But when I delete photos out of iPhoto and try to import them from Finder, I get an error message. I guess that's what's freaking me out. Why can't I import any of my finder photos, which I can open in other applications and which obviously still exist? Why not? The whole idea of iPhoto is that you can import any kind of picture into it! So there must actually be something wrong with these photos.... and that terrifies me so much, because these photos are my entire life in Italy this year, and the summer before that and then this past summer. I don't want to lose them! So, for the time being, I'm not uploading any more photos onto my computer, I've created backups on my mom's computer, and tomorrow I'm going to take in my computer to an Apple technician who will make it better and not charge me too much (fingers crossed). But what that means is that my blog will be sadly pictureless, unless I review the absolutely spectacular movie I saw tonight......... Little Miss Sunshine!
