76027288

:sigh: hi ho dee dum. What a day, what a day. Just your normal daily high school rush, but whatever. It shouldn’t be when you’re a senior.

Thatcher’s class was boring…most of Hagen’s was spent chilling with Leeann, Doug, Cassie, and Hagen. That was fun.

Journalism was rather…blah. 24 pages; no one cares, no one cares. And by that I mean *no one*

Lunch was left-over Chinese food.

Even Ms Caples’s class was dull! All we did was pass out papers and Wide Sargasso Sea! Booo-urns.

Jessie and I hanged out until the AP session…then we did the AP session, that was dull, too. We did some poem and then someone brought up the death of the stinking toad, then we got off on a huge tangent and ended up looking at pictures from Ms Caples’s trip to the Old Country…there was a picture in there of Ms Halpenny holding a gun! There was also a picture in there of Ms Caples holding a gun, but it wasn’t nearly as scary.

Then Jessie and I ditched Uncle Tom’s steakhouse for pizza, which was far superior. So that was all fun.

You know, right now I’m listening to the song, “A Love Before Time” on the soundtrack to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. And I also understand about people who hate English dub-ins. I love this song, when I read the translation and hear the Chinese original, but the English dub is just…crap. How can people actually enjoy watching foreign films with crappy English dub-ins? I can’t take it…I just want to turn it off. But, I’m not stupid like most Americans~

75987254

Thatcher’s class was boring…Hagen’s class was worse (we just sat around while people in our class were taking the AIMS test)…Palantir was semi-nonboring…Caples was panic-time…yep, that’s my life. After school Jessie and I went out for Chinese food, then we were late for the AP English study session. After AP English I wrote yet *another* essay, wasn’t that boring. Then I came here. Guess what I did? You know those EssayPreps from Collegeboard.com? Well, I am convinced they don’t even bother to read the essays; that the entire thing is a rip-off. So I took my essay code and submitted the Gettysberg Address (it was kind of a throw-away code anyway—all we needed were excellent essay examples on this one poem we did—”Death of A Toad.”). Well, the stupid computer—it took, it took Lincoln’s Address, thinking it was a normal essay.

I’ve got to see how they grade this one.

Right, so I’m jolly, how are you all? Sometimes in writing this blog I feel like all I do is write about myself. Granted, this is a diary, which is in theory an introspective tale of an individual, as recorded by the individual, but who actually reads this thing anyway? Oh well. I shouldn’t trouble my little mind about it too much~

75952166

Today sucked. No exceptions. I can’t even get over it. What a sucky day.

Well, it wouldn’t have been so bad—the sun was shining, I got to sleep in, and there would have been promise of going out to lunch and a movie with the parent-types. But NOOO-OOOOO. Because I had to friggin’ study. All day. No joke. I slept in until 10a, took a bath because I was up too late last night to worry about trifles such as hygeine, had lunch/breakfast, and sat down, and started math. I finished math at 2p, then went right in with biology. Now, even if I had finished biology around 3p and then after that finished English at 4p or 5p, I wouldn’t have been so pissy. But, Ms Caples OF COURSE loaded us with all sorts of homework—a Crime and Punishment test tomorrow, a 40 minute essay test about a dumb toad, and some more crud, so I had quite a long haul to go through with English. I would have done some of it yesterday but felt like I deserved a day off. So, I paid for it today.

So given this and yesterday’s semi-nonproductive day, I’d say this weekend was not that much fun. But, that’s okay. Two more weeks…two more weeks and we’ll have senior finals…then hardly another week and we’ll be done….well that cheers me!

Tomorrow is the AIMS [Arizona Instrument to Measure Standards---how bureacratic can you get?] test. Did I tell you out-of-staters what that sucker is? Some of you who have heard this rant know what AIMS is. It’s this test that the grand state of Arizona is trying to initialize in which high schoolers must pass it to graduate. But the joke is, although the math and English levels do not exceed middle school level in my opinion, no student can pass it. Well, it has an 80 percent failure rate. Lots of contraversy. Because the failure rate of the AIMS test shows how dumb this state is.

Honestly, as someone who took it freshman year, passed, and since then has been stuck sitting in a little room every time the rest of the school goes out to take the AIMS test, I am sick and tired of this contraversy. The thing is not hard to pass; if anything, it’s an idiot’s test. For example, on page 8 it asks you to draw a cylinder. Then around page 34 it has a picture of a cylinder drawn out, and the instructions say, “This is a cylinder!” hur hur hur. On top of that, I find it a waste of school money, of classtime, and of student’s time. Because, as Richard Atkinson of the UC system pointed out about the SAT’s, what does a stupid test know about academics? About education? Education is not when a bunch of bureacrats from a higher authority look down from their pedestals and tell teachers they have to step back a few years before moving on. Education is about exchanging ideas and enriching both the student’s and teacher’s minds in the process~

75919413

Saturday, April 27, 2002

let’s see…tonight I’m rather tired, so this may or may not be a short blog.

I woke up around 8.30a or 9a, which is too early for my liking, but oddly enough satisfying too. I realized the parent-types were out; where the hell were they? Oh, well, I didn’t feel like thinking about it, so I cooked some egg-toast (I still thank Jill every time I make it for that recipe…).

After that I was bored so I took Grant for a good, long walk. We walked for maybe two miles? I’m not sure. But it was a lot of fun, because my body had been aching for a walk in the same way my mind yearns for the usual intellect.

I came home and Uncle Tom and Mom were home. Uncle Tom! How could I forget he was flying in from Cincinnati? He’ll be here for all of a week, but whatever, I don’t think much of it. Call me crazy, but I’m usually just too busy to think about stuff like that, so as I won’t be home much, I don’t really worry much about it either. But, it is cool that he’s staying with us, really. I just thought he was coming a little later in the year than this week, for some reason.

I then managed to fix my iBook! I figured out it kept freezing because it thought it was starting up with the scanner, which it wasn’t. But, I told it to Force Quit the scanner program, and I did a technique called “rebuilding the desktop,” which was a good thing. After that I stupidly took out the scanner again, finished off my photos, and uploaded them on Snapfish. By the time I was done Jill came over and we worked on the Palantir Perspective. This time around we had a lot of fun writing it; we especially got the giggles when writing about the Sports section. I just hope the rest of the staff thinks its funny, and I decided that if we insult anyone at all, we’ll definately pull it.

When Jill and I finished we went over to Ms Caples’s study session on Crime and Punishment. That took two hours. Joy.

I came home to Uncle Brian and Aunt Angela coming over; we admired Cousin Mark’s new car, then we did other stuff. After dinner Michelle and I went stargazing, even though it was a pretty bad night for stargazing, but that’s okay~

You know, I think I should probably upload my poem to you all, which is this blog’s namesake:

His name
Is Jerry Christianson.
Yet he writes to no one.
Like the moon clouded behind neon lights
Our works are lost on these modern fools.

75900951

Friday, April 26, 2002 [Blogger was being evil last night]

In Thatcher’s class we took a test about “true colors.” You know, that test which tests whether you are a Blue, Orange, Gold, or Green. I tested 100 percent bonafied Green, meaning I was a scientist. And, I think it’s a load of crap. It’s very hookey; like a horoscope it only lists your supposid positives, never your negatives. And, Thatcher said he was genuinely surprised with my results.

In biology I took home one of the bean plants from our Darwin experiment. Ms Zeiher also lectured on kidneys, and when I left the lecture I had to pee, and I was thirsty. It was not a good combination, but ah, well, what can you do?

Journalism…let’s see, we organized some papers dating as far back as 1968-1969, though my spirit was not much into it. Oh well. Then I did some copy-editing and that was that.

After school I went down to Keaton’s to retrieve a diamond ring I lost at prom. That was a good thing.

Then I went over to AP English study session, which I found utterly unpleasant. Ms Caples, having read all our ridiculous distortion essays, was definately displeased with our sloppy work, and yelled at Jeff and me for our terrible essays which both barely got 90’s. She told Jeff his essay lacked detail, and she told me mine lacked organization. I hate it when teachers undermine students in front of other students, and that was no exception at all. Well, what did I exactly resent about that entire episode? I dunno. I guess I just don’t want to talk about an essay I threw together on a Monday night while meanwhile keeping up with Wide Sargasso Sea, finishing Jane Eyre, doing an AP English study session, panicking over a test the next day in that class, and doing whatever else I was doing OUTSIDE that class. Oh well. Forget it. Another week and we’ll be done with the AP test; another two weeks and we’ll be done with that class.

Are you afraid of snakes? I ask you tonight because I nearly stepped on one today, and I was wearing flip-flops at that. I was walking home from school, it was close to sunset, the light was tilted just in that fashion so that the shadows are long and elegant, and the light has a warm feel to it. The wind was blowing wildly, like a little child playing with my hair, my clothes, myself. And as I was walking and feeling its amazing power, I looked down and opened my eyes. Two inches from me was a little garter snake, a little slithering fellow about a foot and a half long. I started, and stepped back. When I gasped, the snake bunched up, clenching its entire body in a big ball of fear. Our eyes met. I stepped back some more, still staring into its dark eyes, which were like two black ponds in its tiny head. I walked around the tree, past the snake, and let it lie behind my back for all eternity as I went home~

Jessie and I went to ice cream after dinner. Then we also went to Target. It ’twas lots of fun, though I think we took a rather pessimistic attitude about our own lousy town. Oh well~

75831644

Ah, well, today was a day. I slogged through Thatcher’s class; in Hagen’s class we all got terribly silly (see THE BOOK for details). In Journalism we pretty much did nothing as usual (I love our off-deadline productivity). And in English we just talked about Wide Sargasso Sea. Today was, like I said, a day.

We did our usual funstuff in Astro-Philosophy; I talked about the ram, Aries, and Sarah led a discussion about love and marraige (or lack thereof). Then in English, as there were no males around, we talked about male-dominated society. Male-bashing can be fun, if you’re in the mood for it. Unfortunately, I was not, because in my philosophy, feminism is not about bashing males. I find that in this era, most feminists fail to understand what exactly females want in society. Instead they focus so acutely about wanting the same status as males, and they neglect their own beautiful identity. I do not think women should simply abandon themselves, but they should also embrace their own sexuality. Feminism is not about wanting to be a man; it is about being allowed to stand next to a man, and, together, the two sexes should allowed to be human beings alongside one another~

Sometimes my parents can just be downright insulting. I do love my parents, let me put that out before anyone thinks otherwise (sheesh, I think they’re the only ones I complain about on this blog), but I seriously almost cried, they were bothering me so much. First, they didn’t call me for dinner, but I don’t think it mattered anyway because they were having beef stew. So as I started making penne, Mom went in with insulting my vegetarian diet and saying how my take on life is more like sparing one organism’s life over another, creating a heirarchy in nature, when no living thing, plant or animal, is above this heirarchy. I then tried to explain how when harvesting fields, they make the plants reproduce asexually anyway (mitosis, not meiosis), therefore not really killing the plant, but of course Dad jumped in and started arguing that one down (lawyer dads can be evil). So I then just said simply that I don’t like eating meat, and it’s true. I hate the smell of meat, the feeling of chewing another animal’s muscle or fat, and I resent how it is not utilizing energy on a macrolevel, and that is why I don’t eat meat. My vegetarian diet is not solely for animal rights or whatever extreme PETA organizations and vegans are always shouting about. I simply think vegetarianism is more healthy, is more beneficial on a global human level, and, above all, is a matter of me being a picky eater and telling society, “I hate the taste of meat” (of course, once I tried to explain that, my parents gladly bombarded me with every point to the extent where I could not even voice my thoughts about my own diet).

But, they also wanted to know why I eat fish if I don’t like the taste of meat. The truth is, I hate eating fish, too. But, I also know that there is nothing better for you nutritionally than fish, and fish can actually taste quite good when cooked right. Besides, I said, Jesus ate fish when he was walking on our feeble planet, so shouldn’t that indicate something about eating fish? Jesus, however, did NOT eat pollo or red meat. When finally my penne was ready, Mom said something downright insulting, that I was replacing my vegetarianism with religion, that I should not take vegetarianism to fulfill my spiritual needs.

Yes, I was insulted, and let me tell you why. I am going to tell you all something very secret about my religious heart: philosophically I tend to be a skeptic, meaning that I do not take every word to be true, that I will not accept anything unless I have proven to myself that indeed this is the right answer, and though I cannot be certain about everything metaphysically, I do believe that I understand one thing, my belief that something had to create this universe, because time, like it or not, is very finite, therefore there must have been a first cause (and we can prove that fact mathematically). I also think that humans identify with this metaphysical being in many ways, and unfortunately, this had led to terrible unnecessary bloodshed over the centuries. In this sense, every religion is correct. I do not think it is fair to disregard any of them, because they are the human being’s spiritual unconscious mind relating to this all-powerful diety. Though some may seem downright ridiculous (e.g. ancients worshipping the sun), think about what implications these religions mean to that individual.

I do not know if I chose Christianity as my religion, but as of yet it is one I can relate to, that I value, that I enjoy, that fulfills my spiritual needs. Therefore I read the Bible with my grain of skeptism still in mind, yet, the hypocrite I am, I also say my prayers and give thanks to whatever sort of random, indifferent blessing I have received in being alive. But, if there is one thing I totally agree with in the Bible, it is the passage about worshipping God in a closet, to fast with make-up on, to hide your beliefs in a closet. Isn’t that a beautiful thought? Think of all those pious, arrogent, overly judgemental, nearly competetively religious people who brag about how many Hail Marys they can say in a single hour. That is not the crux of religion. Religion is as that passage in the Bible says, that we should follow what is in our hearts, that we should not express our beliefs on others or judge others; that is for God to do, and no one else.

The result of this strong belief I have is, I almost never talk about religion to people. I just do not think it is my place to do so; I pray in the closet. My philosophical beliefs, I admit openly, are very fuzzy right now, but that makes sense to me because I am not a developed individual. For goodness sake, I am 18 years old. I am no longer that simple child that the Bible values so much, and as I grow more complex, my views on religion have, too. So who am I to impose my beliefs on someone else? I do what I do; let you do what you do. So no, though I seem outwardly agnostic and very unorthodox in religion, I happen to feel very strongly about what I think I know. And what I feel strongly about is, I must pray in the closet. I must not be open to religious discussion. I have never really explained this secret to anyone, but here I am blogging tonight, telling you my inner beliefs. Vegetarianism is not a religious sacrament to me; to me it is simply a diet I chose to practice, and I am sorry, my dear parents, if I have insulted you with my way of life~

(by the way, let me add that after this discussion my mother went ahead and turned on her movie, SE7EN)

A group of pigeons were alongside the courtyard of the E and D building. I noticed in particular a male chasing a female bird as she flaunted up and down the courtyard, in the air, in the tree, and down again. Other birds were picking around for food, possibly looking for companions of their own. These birds were beautiful—innocent and playful. But as my human body stepped toward the little flock, they all flew away, like ephemeral specks of water dissapearing from a hot stove surface~

75789579

Ah, well, today was a day, to say the least. I actually got to rest this afternoon! more on that later.

Thatcher’s BACK. Yes, BACK. We did notes today, though still learned pure rubbish :P

In Ms Zeiher’s class she went up to me and said, “YOU need to take the test!” So I was like, “Eh, I’ll just do it now.” So I did. It took all period, I missed a lecture, but I think I did well on it, which is ironic because supposidly students do worse on make-up tests. Well, let’s not jinx it because we’re supposed to feel BAD about tests!

Jenn was back in journalism! Yayness. Right, so in journalism we got 5 new versions of Adobe Photoshop 7.0, and I for one was really excited. But, we didn’t get to install them because it requires Mac OS 9.1 or X, and all we have is Mac OS 9 (booo).

Jenn came over a bit, then we drove her home. Then Mom and I went to the library and bank. Jolly-holly ~_*

Then I came home, did some scans, was about to go to AP English when I remembered it was at 1:15p, not 4p (oh ho ho ho), so I went online instead. And I’m still here. GET ME OFF GET ME OFF GET ME OFF~

Isn’t life full of little ironies? I think it plays games with us, like a roller coaster full of loops and whirls that most people want to get off of. Well, as for me, I look forward to each dip and turn, and I hope that when it is indeed time to get off, I can say proudly, “wow, what a ride~”

75757824

I FINISHED WIDE SARGASSO SEA! NO MORE READING STUPID NOVELS AND PLAYS FOR AP ENGLISH! BWA HA HA HA HA

(well, I might have to reread Oedipus Rex just so I can refresh my mind, but that’s easy—less than a friggin’ hour of reading!)

We still had that stupid sub in Thatcher. Not that it mattered—she turned on some video, and I don’t think even Conner, who is deaf and needs an interpreter and therefore is somewhat trapped into paying attention to the lecture, was not paying attention to the video. Emily and I couldn’t figure out what the movie was, or what it was about, so, whatever. I was still in my panic mode for reading Wide Sargasso Sea, so I just did that.

Mr Hagen’s class was in some sick way FUN today; I LIKE integrals and the “u” substitution method and differential equations! And everyone in my vicinity wants to shoot me, the Scrippsie I am who actually enjoys calculus.

After Hagen we had an assembly. I thought Gemma looked oddly like Hitler, standing on the stage in our Fine Arts Auditorium with a microphone, occasionally raising his right arm to make a particular point, seeming to salute the student body known as Commies del Oro. Sean grew a great caracature of this image, and passed it around to our row and those behind us—everyone was LAUGHING so hard, myself included! Then they passed out these ballots for senior nominations/voting. I put the following:

Senior Speaker: No one—aren’t the validictorian and saluditorian enough for one lousy night?
Teacher Speaker: Mr Sabb, because he is above you bureacrats.
Teacher Name-Reader: Whoever loses the lottery.
Senior Song: “This Song (Just Six Words Long”/Weird Al.

Obviously you can tell I care not for our stupid high school, the silvery school of knowledge I am leaving soon. Though I will say this: my ballot, after being passed around, caused an outbreak of a few more kids who were not up to taking the voting seriously giving the same type of answers; among one of the nominations by Jessie for our Senior Speaker was Mr T.

After the assembly I hopped over to journalism; the usual procrastination was going on. Though I did get a few things done, among them, finishing my page layout, then revamping my page layout because we had to cancel the video game review and plug in a story for Elizabeth. After that ordeal we looked at some Gallup-Award winning layouts (my egotistical side thought we were about that level).

Lunch time! I finished Wide Sargasso Sea.

Then in AP English we had the usual rushing about, scrambling to work on some AP test. I love how lax Ms Zeiher is towards her AP test in comparison to Ms Caples; Ms Zeiher simply takes the attitude that what will be will be, whereas Ms Caples is on the verge of a mental breakdown. ‘Tis silly of her, really; it’s just a stupid test.

Jessie and I stayed and studied in Ms Caples’s room instead of rushing home and coming back. I thought it was nice of her to give us a quiet place to study, in any event. I worked on biology vocab; Jessie worked on government. Then we had a study session, I came home, actually looking forward to doing something that had nothing to do with school and pathetically enough involved going to Target to pick up my prom and Scripps photos, and I found Mom already left without me. I knew I shouldn’t have told her I was going to get them this afternoon. Then she got all mad at me because she was showing me photos from the second roll, and call me silly, but I just wanted to view the rolls sequentially, saving the prom pictures for last, and she was shoving them in my face. So I yelled at her; she yelled back, it was a stupid squabble, but whatever, it’s over now.

I escaped by starting the Never-Ending Story for book club and also for my own sanity. I love that book, and I found it calmed me nicely.

Then I had dinner, and studied for a biology test that may or may not be tomorrow, but I feel really prepared in any event, and I’m sure if it is tomorrow I’ll do fine; if not, great, I’ll reread the chapters on Thursday night~

What strange dreams that haunt me! First I dreamed I was still marking up Wide Sargasso Sea, then I dreamed Jeff’s eyes became catlike, after that I dreamed I was foiling out (x-.5) squared, and after that I was out in our pool, floating around, when Jessie said to me, “you should watch TV the night before the AP test!” When I told my dreams to Jessie, she laughed, but then again, I think I would too if it was me~

75708698

I’m going to blog now since there is no way I am getting time after dinner.

I stayed up late last night reading Jane Eyre, was almost done by the time I got in Thatcher’s class. Speaking of Thatcher, we had a sub today; I knew I should have skipped. Then in Hagen we learned about something that looks hard now but I imagine I’ll be laughing at my folly in, oh, let’s say a week from now. I asked Mr Hagen how he was, he said he was good, which is jolly.

In Ms Zeiher’s class she said I could make up the test I missed last Friday sometime later this week. That’s good; I don’t have to worry about it right now. Then in journalism we did nothing of that great interest; in period 3 we had a production meeting; in period 4 I just worked on my page while everyone else (save Jeff, I think) procrastinated. Eh, let them dig their own graves, is what I say.

After lunch we had Ms Caples’s class. You know what’s annoying about that class? I’m doing so much work outside that class, and then we get in, and you totally would not guess it. But, we are, and it’s insane what we’re doing right now—Jane Eyre, 40-minute essays daily, journal entries, Wide Sargasso Sea (read by tomorrow), study sessions after school—-ayyye I think we’ve all had enough. But like I said, I don’t think anyone would guess it, going into that class, because all we did was a 60 point test and Crime and Punishment.

After school I read and read and read and did I mention read? Yeh, that was okay, I mean, I enjoy the books I’m reading, but I wish it wasn’t while under so much strain. Then I went to a study session, came on the net, wrote a CD Brief on Guster since I still haven’t seen any signs of Neutral from Cristal (hey, not your fault, I know you’re busy too, Cristal). Tonight I plan to work through 28 math problems, do a 40-minute essay, and read all of Wide Sargasso Sea, and do a journal entry in my spare time. But first, dinner :P

75673343

Well, I haven’t blogged since Wednesday night, but how can you expect me to when I’m having so much fun? Busy, yes, and so awesome. Thursday I left to go to Claremont right after taking an essay test, and we drove and drove and drove, only stopping for dinner. It was really exciting, and even though it was dark and I had to get up early tomorrow, I didn’t sleep in the car at all. My mom slept in the back; my dad drove, I just sat in the front and looked at Orion and Sirius until finally we hit Claremont—it was about 11p when we arrived, maybe 11.30. We drove through the colleges, which looked like eerie ghost-building under the moon, and some college students were still walking around. We drove past Pomona, through CMC, the wall of Scripps, hardly past Pitzer, and then through Harvey Mudd, and when we reached a traffic light, turned into the Claremont Inn. At the reception we lost our confirmation ID, and the entire inn was booked with admitted Claremont kids, so we did not really have much choice. Behind us was a girl I was talking to that got in CMC. There was a complaining mother at the reception about smoking. The girl’s mom at CMC could not get her confirmation number either. The receptionists finally settled for putting us in two single rooms, meaning I got my own hotel room for the night! That was jolly.

I read some Jane Eyre before hitting the sack, and I slept rather peacefully. The next morning I woke up earlier than I’d like to admit—I was nervous and excited about Pitzer and Scripps, so I read some more Jane Eyre. I got up around 7.30a and got dressed. Inside my duffle bag was—the confirmation number! When the parent-types got up I showed it to Dad, so he showed it to the reception desks, and they let him pay the regular fee instead of a fee for two hotel rooms.

While walking to the car we ran across another CMC student—he got admitted there and some school that started with a “J” that impressed my mom. I think it was some medical school? Sorry; I’m tired right now…

We drove over to Scripps first, and stepped through the gates. I cannot tell you how gorgeous it was. I didn’t know it, but the campus is a historical monument, and it showed. Eh, I’d type more on it, but maybe another time: I’m still rather tired. I took a lot of pictures for you all, and I’ll load them on Snapfish once I get the chance. You’ll like them.

After a breakfast outside the Motley Coffee House, Mom, Dad, and I checked out the library. Eh, more on that later, too…but if I was to describe it, it’d be the Hogwarts library combined with the Gryffindor Common Room, and I’m not exaggerating either.

So they took us upstairs to some common room, and you know what Nancy B. said? She said that at Scripps, this year they admitted 70 kids on Early Decision. Then for regular decision, they had a 15 percent application adage, meaning that there were 1500 applicants for less than 150 slots. So in a nutshell, 1 in 10 kids got in Scripps. Ayyye that’s Eva’s odds for Stanford! I didn’t know I was on that level.

After the speech I went over to watch a psychology lecture…there I talked some more with a girl that I talked to at breakfast, too. She’s very sweet, somewhat refined, and I liked her parents, too, which is always a good sign. She got in Scripps on Early Decision, which rocks my socks.

Anyway, the psychology/gender women’s studies lady was soo awesome. She was a bit like my mom’s friend, Lee. I really enjoyed her, and she told us all sorts of wild stuff about Scripps. Some father piped up in the back, asking if Scripps would audit an old man for the classes, lolz.

My friend told me that I should go look at Pitzer, so my parents and I headed over to that campus. We walked around for maybe a half hour, just looking up and down. The campus was built in 1962, I think, and it had this ’70s blockish feel to it, but students painted all sorts of pretty artwork up in down it. In that aspect, the campus reminded me of Berkely or something. There was foliage all over it, too, and a really cool oldish house that we walked around in. An outdoor class was going on—calculus, I think, because I looked at the equations and was really excited because we were doing the same stuff in Mr Hagen’s class, only their equations looked a little harder.

So we went over to admin, and, hiding our Scripps material, got some Pitzer stuff. Two hot guys escorted me to where the kids were, at an English lecture. Right, so, if you’re in Ms Caples’s class, you’re going to laugh: the kids were all in a circle, talking about a poem, and the professor was asking questions about the poem as a lecture! It was a very profound discussion, and I was getting into it, too. The lecture was just like Ms Caples’s style, though. No. Kidding.

We had lunch after that. I was sitting next to five girls—four got waitlisted at Scripps, the fifth one got in Harvey Mudd and waitlisted at Pomona. When they asked me where I got into college, they were about to lynch me because I said I got in at Scripps. Lord, was I afraid for my life! I think they wanted to kill me and split my slot up among the four of them.

Overall about Pitzer, I concluded it was a gorgeous school, and the kids seemed really nice. But, it lacked a certain structure that I think only artists can handle, and that sort of made me not want to go there. Because I don’t consider myself that artistic. I mean, I love my writing and I draw, I love music, I love the arts, but I also feel as a human, lost. I need tradition, and my heart felt right in Scripps. It was a very emotional feeling; I think unless you’ve felt it yourself (maybe it’s a bit like love), you can’t really describe it.

So, as we headed back to Scripps for the tours and stuff, I made my college decision right there: Scripps is where I am, and Scripps is where I belong. But I still don’t think I was totally convinced. I mean, I didn’t see Scripps’s science department, and perhaps given that it was a small, liberal arts school, I would be better off at the U of A for science.

So, we headed over to the Keck Science Department, which is this building that Pitzer, Scripps, and CMC all went in to build, and teach as three colleges instead of three individual sciences. This physics professor by the name of Gould, I told him my problem with science. Well, he sort of replied by just walking me around. To start, he showed me a paper he and some undergrads did about the physics of a black widow’s spider web, and he said that the two undergrads were going to be cited more often than some professors at Harvard or Yale, that what the kids were doing, most do not get until graduate school, if they’re lucky. For astronomy, I would be guarenteed to work at this telescope, hands-on with professors, which I probably would not get with Keck Peak at the UA.

Then he proceeded to show me some science equiptment. My eyes just kept popping. Now, when I say science equiptment, I mean stuff that was so expensive, it could probably build three football fields for Harvard. One thing (and, let me add that undergrads get to use them), could show a single atom. An atom, people, that microscope was that amazing! And, another spectrometer was so precise, you could only get so near it before it would detect you and start analyzing what sort of stuff you were made of! :laughs: I am tearing up just thinking about what sort of amazing stuff was in Keck Science. I saw some undergrads doing a chemistry lab—in short, all that Keck had, any university had, and it had something extra—the professors were interested in the undergrads, not the graduate students! It’s just…wow. So, yeh, if anything set my resolve for Scripps, it was that.

We went on a campus tour, passing the rose garden, in the library again, &c. Then we had tea in this pretty garden. I ran into my friend again; she asked me what I thought of Pitzer.

“Well, I kind of went over there, and went, ‘uh—Scripps!’” I replied. She and her parents laughed really hard at that.

By the end of the day, my dad got me some Scripps shirts, and we went over the admin and committed. It was a rather emotional moment…Stephanie, the lady who interviewed me, came over and congratulated me, and all that fun stuff. We all had chocolate in honor of the occassion. Then we left that gorgeous school and were off, on the road back to Tucson. When I left, I felt this great sense of happiness, and yet felt a little nervous about the new stuff that awaited me next fall. No kidding, it’d be an understatement to say, I’m excited about next fall, but at the same time, it’s all so new and wonderful…and I’m sure it will be hard at the same time, but whatever. I’ll be happy.

The drive home, I was so tired, I just slept. I think I attempted a few pages of Jane Eyre, but not enough to put a big dent in it. I was so sleepy and tired, I just felt like sleeping, so I did.

Awww man, now I have to write yet another exciting day—senior prom! How can I describe all the rushing around that morning? The hair, the boutonniere, the normal stuff. The hair took like 1.5 hours. Gosh, I looked great and knew it by the end. I’ll have pictures, but only on request, thank you.

Around 5.30 we all met up, and did we all look great! Looking around me, I couldn’t figure out who was more handsome or more pretty—Tasha, Jessie, me, Mike, Chris? I won’t attempt at it. Again, pictures only on request.

For chomping we went over to Keaton’s, which was delicious; I had an Asian salad that was so big, I couldn’t even finish it. We ran into all sorts of other prom-folk, and that was jolly. Then we went over to Barnes and Noble to kill time, which was also jolly. When we were ready to hit the road, we were so excited! I drove Chris and Tasha in the Gas Guzzler of Doom, but Mike and Jessie felt like going in their own car (them romantic-type are so funny!).

So when we got there, we did the pictures first (we’re so smart), and then went over into the prom. Oh, did we have a great fun! We danced and danced, and talked, and ate, and did so much merry-making, I was so shocked when I found out it was 10! Then we decided to just stay the whole time, so we did…I took all sorts of pictures, Tasha wanted a “diva shot” of all the girls done by Lancefair Child (I hate that guy—he’s a really hyper photographer). The music wasn’t any good, but I think the decorations and food and people all made up for it. I had so much fun.

After prom ended we went over to Coffee Etc. We had fries and drinks; I think Lana and I got a little on the silly side, but Tasha made the more disgusting point (”how many people do you think are having sex right now?”). After that, it was time to go home, so we made the long trek home. Chris and I talked a lot about random stuff; I like Chris because he’s alive and easy to talk to—one of the true humans I know, if that makes sense. I think he thought we didn’t really dance enough, but actually we danced more numbers than I have in the past, which made it so much fun.

So after battling with the 50-some bobby pins in my hair, I finally got to bed around 3.30a, which was okay, because I slept in a lot today.

Most of today was devoted to reading Jane Eyre; I’m not that far done, but I think I’ll just stay up late working at it tonight—I just came across a BIG revelation; so I actually felt guilty for putting it down!

I have no more words to say.