Things that make me go, "Really?!"

Far Right-Winged or Far Left-Winged People. No, I don't mean politicians; I mean people. Politicians are paid to be extremely biased. They are paid to be overly obnoxious, trying to force their beliefs upon everyone. Citizens, on the other hand, are not. I understand debates. I'm all for everyone having his or her own personal opinion on anything and everything. But, Really?! How can you honestly complain about a member or leader of the opposite political party when you're being as close-minded as they are? What is getting accomplished when people are too busy calling the president a socialist? What is getting accomplished when others are just relishing in the fact that our country is no longer under the control of George Bush? Nowhere.

Stereotypes. Not all blondes are dumb. Not all Asian people own donut shops or are superb in math and science. There are white cabbies too! They aren't all from the Middle East! I mean, Really?! Way to be judgmental of people you've never met before. Not all Emo people cut themselves. It's a genre of music. It's a style. Actually, the music and clothes were called emo before they were associated with negative ways of expressing emotion.

Lady Gaga. She has an AMAZING voice. Absolutely fabulous. But her outfits, Really?! That metal, 3-tiered hula hoop thing she wore on SNL? What was the point of that? It really distracts from the quality of the voice that is singing. I seriously just don't understand it.

Cheap off-brands that say "Compare with the leading brand", but you know the leading brand, though more expensive, is better. Really?! Why try? 'Nuff said.

Warnings on microwavable foods. Really?! "Food will be hot." No shiz, Sherlock.

Warnings on cribs, "Do not leave child unattended." Really?! Why not just write, "Parents with less sleep keep the economy going. They buy Monsters, Red Bulls, and lots of alcohol. Thus, you should stay up watching your kid while he/she sleeps instead of getting the 3 hours of sleep you normally get! Yay!" But that's too long, so they just stick with "Do not leave child unattended."

The Youtube video "Leprechaun in Alabama." I demand that you go see it now, otherwise the reason as to why it makes me question why some humans exist will not make sense. Really, Crichton, Alabama?! A leprechaun in a tree that only comes out at night and that disappears into the night when you shine a light on it? Let's be reasonable. Or borderline sane. Something. Please.

And this concluded this week's edition of "Really?! With Hayleigh Elmo".

Later Days.

Peace.

H

Quote of the day: "Arkansas: where being pregnant doesn't stop you from getting pregnant". --Seth Myers of Weekend Update

A Tribute to September 17, 2009.

I woke up almost an hour after the first sounding of my alarm, as usual. What I wore is inevitable, how I did my hair is unimportant. I do remember that I actually put makeup on, which is a once-or-twice a week occurrence nowadays. It was minimal, mascara only, but I remember it.
That day was the first day anyone at school had ever seen me cry. I know for a fact that none of my best friends ever had. I had always told Chandler she would never see me cry, that it was just something I never do and would never admit to doing. She told me that she would do everything within her power to make sure that I cry at graduation. Deep down, I knew she wouldn't have to do anything, but she didn't and I was planning on keeping it that way.
That was also the day Baby Beatrice was born.
Like I said, everything about that day, except for my random makeup usage, was normal. Yearbook was uneventful, just working on eDesign, not really getting anything done. History consisted of talking about the French and Indian War with no one truly paying attention. English, however, was different. Angela wasn't there.
"Dope! Where's Mang?" I whispered to Hope after 10 minutes had passed.
"I dunno! Is she sick?" She whispered back.
"She's never sick!"
"Crap. You're right; this is weird."
"Maybe you should text her." Hope did and we began to half pay attention to whatever Mrs. Wadhwania was talking about. I guess I didn't give it much though, Angela being gone. A calculus makeup test, I figured. Mrs. Radja, the crazy physics teacher, got too excited about velocity and didn't notice the time. She was okay and I knew it.

"Hayes. Hayles...Ang's mom had the baby!" Hope nudged me, looking up from her phone. Of course! Why didn't I think of that? The baby was due the next day and the Andrews' are famous for inducing their newborns. This is baby number 10! Andrews world domination, as I've heard it said. But, as usual, the gender of the baby was kept a secret until the birth.

"Boy or Girl!?" We both messaged her.

Several minutes later,
"It's...complicated. Read my blog. Don't worry, it's not a hermaphrodite."

It's...complicated? Complicated, how? I knew Hope had the same thoughts when she opened up her inbox to find the same text in response. Being in a class where the teacher only allows three minutes for potty breaks, there wasn't anything we could do for nearly twenty minutes. Thankfully, Mrs. Wadhwania decided to cut short her lecture on "The effects of the opening scene" in reference to Kafta's "The Metamorphosis" short. Hope excused herself to the "bathroom", but I could hear her running down the hall in the opposite direction, looking for an open computer. 5 minutes passed, then 10. Then 20. Hope still hadn't returned and it was time for passing period. I gathered all her books, told our french teacher, "Il faut que je trouve Hope, " and wandered off in search for her.
There she was, sitting in the middle of the polo field, by herself. Just sitting. She's hard to miss, with that bright yellow, bleached blonde hair of hers. I remember yelling her name and having her turn around to stare a me for a few seconds, neither of us really moving. Paranoid as always, I was almost certain the baby had died, that Mrs. Andrews had died, something. Then Hope started running towards me and I attempted to do the same. I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked, her backpack on my back, my own satchel across my right side, waddling like a penguin. I got up to her; she looked like such a mess: nose runny, eyes bloodshot, eyeliner running and fading. Something you never want to see in a best friend. I could hear it in my head, "The baby, the baby's gone, Hayleigh."
"The baby..." Hope starts, genuinely trying to be strong, "it's a girl... but." It wasn't working. "She's a down-syndrome babbbbby," she trailed off, blubbering other nonsense. I stuck my arms out to hug her. All I could muster was a "Wow..." and a confused face. I mean, it's surprising, yes, but down-syndrome isn't a curse upon a family. I've recently learned that. It's just a test of faith. The Andrews family is the family best equipped in the world to handle anything creative God wanted to throw at them. Both Hope and I knew that deep down.
French was nearly unbearable, Hope silent and sniffling, me pensive and passive. Afterwards, we drug ourselves down the halls toward the lunch room, halfway briefing Maggie on what was going on. None of us were too concentrated on eating.
But I had to read the blog.
Login: check. Internet connection: check. No proxy needed to get to Angela's blog: surprising check.
"The Day you were Born" she had titled it, a letter to Beatrice.
I had never read anything so beautifully written. I had never read anything that made my heart hurt but yearn for the love that Angela felt about someone she had only met once. Pretty soon, tears streamed down my face, no matter how much I wish they hadn't.
Maggie, however, couldn't get a usable proxy to function. So, I logged in for her. I watched her read it. I watched the tears well up in her eyes, roll down her seemingly eternally-giggly face. I remember Hope walking up behind us, rereading the entry over Mags' shoulder.
I guess you realize who your true friends are at moments like that. You realize that you would do anything to make them stop crying because it hurts your soul to see them in pain. Chandler saw me crying that day. I told her she never would. I shouldn't use the word never. She didn't know what to do; she was almost afraid to touch me.
Nonetheless, I congratulate the Andrews family. Here's to Beatrice. Here's to best friends. Here's to Angela, the strongest 16 year old I know.

Later Days
Peace
H

Angela's Blog:

• http://goodheavensgwendolyn.wordpress.com
  

You know You were Meant to be a _____ when...

Vegetarian:

• You get excited when someone mentions that veggie kabobs will be served at a barbeque.
• You go to a school dance and the only thing stopping you from dancing with the cutie you've had your eye on is the fact that they smell like beef from their pre-dance dinner at Benihana's.
• That one episode of the Simpson's where they tell the kids what hot dogs are made of grosses you out.
• You adore PeiWei because you can get ANYTHING on the menu with tofu and vegetables instead of meat.
• It takes you more than a minute to chew a piece of steak, no matter how well or rare it's done.
• You get offended when people say that southerners are 'meat and potatoes people'.

Crazy cat lady:

• Even the cats that people say are "the mean ones" like you.
• You have names for future cats picked out in your head. (here's mine: Clawed Monet...)
• You talk to cats like they're people and don't use that obnoxious "Who's-a-good-kitty-You're-a-good-kitty" voice.
• Your friends already have your life planned out for you: marriage numero uno, divorce numero uno, 5 cats with one night stands optional.
• You knit for fun.
• You're tempted to hide other people's cats in your purse/murse so you can take it home with you.

Hippie:

• The background on your phone is from a Paul McCartney concert during the song "Give Peace a Chance", thus enabling you to see a bunch of random hands in the air and a giant glowing peace sign onstage.
• You turn out lights at restaurants, hospitals and school buildings when no one is a in a room so you can save the environment.
• You agree that the second day of Woodstock was the best of the 3 days. (Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Santana, The Who all together?! come on, it must have been amazing.)
• You know that Woodstock was technically four days long because Jimi Hendrix didn't go onstage until midnight on the 3rd day.
• You think that the best Beatles songs were when they were all on pot, LSD, acid and who knows what else.
• Leo is your favorite character on That 70's Show because he sings 'Day by Day' in one of the episodes.
• You're a Godspell fan. :)

Just for grins.

Later Days
Peace
H

Quote of the Day: 8/21/09

"I think your food just moved."

"No. They barked - but quietly because they're hush puppies." --Anthony at lunch today

"Why is bread so good?"
"It's made by the devil." --Mom

Quote of the morning: "Since it rained so much this weekend, no one cut their yard, so the grass around here is growing like hotcakes."

Monday, August 3rd

Word of the day: delegitimatize

trying to update daily

Quote of the Day is from Schindler's List:

Wilhelm Kunde: [Goeth is being driven round the Ghetto in an open top car] This street divides the ghetto just about in half. On the right, ghetto A, civil employees, industrial workers and so on. On the left, ghetto B, surplus labor, the elderly and infirm, mostly, which is where you will want to start. Any questions? 
Amon Goeth: Ja. Why is the top down? I'm f*cking freezing. 

I find you socially acceptable, Beth Cooper.

Watching the movie "I love you, Beth Cooper" made me so nostalgic. I never thought I would start missing school so early in the summer! But that film definitely reminded me of North Hills. Other than the fact that the graduating class has more than 80 people in it, everything just screams 'North Hills'. The whole "head-cheerleader-has-a-school-key" thing? It wouldn't surprise me at all if it turned out that Mary Ellen had a key to our school. I mean, I'm getting one as yearbook editor, so why wouldn't she?

And then there are the huge graduation parties at the rich kid's house. DEFFO North Hills. (Btdubs, I say we have ours at Keyana's house. ;) ) The protective older boyfriends, no comment whatsoever. Nerdy best friends who do nothing but quote old, or classic, movies all day. Well, maybe that's just me, but, believe me, when you're a theatre kid (and so are your friends), it happens! Though I would find it to be utterly hilarious, I would not at all be surprised if a few of my classmates had ever tried cow tipping, failed at it, and fallen into cow poo. I could even tell you who it would happen to!

I find you socially acceptable, Beth Cooper.

You are completely normal. I love that someone finally made a movie about real high school. It's not always separated into a caste system that can never be broken. There are nerds that cannot give appropriate speeches to save their lives and 'popular' kids who don't really have it all. I love this movie because it's real.

I also love it because that guy that played Cameron on "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" is in it. 

Later Days

Peace

H

Quote of the Day: "...I'm gonna come stomp on your face." --My Mother Dearest

Thinking Again.

Alright. So, today, I had nothing to do but think. Scratch that. I had nothing to do but think and read for my summer courses. THUS, I had a bunch of time to ponder about life. Or the dumb things that encompass it, anyways.
Here goes:
>>Chick Flicks: I hate them. Most of you already know that. But let's stop and reflect a little bit. I love movies that make you think, movies that make you ask questions, movies that, perhaps, need some clarification. Chick flicks don't. Hmm...A Walk to Remember, let's use that one. A troublemaker guy is punished for a fake initiation ceremony that lead to a man's paralyzation. The school authorities make him participate in the school musical in which he plays a lead role and falls for the chick playing opposite him (wow, I seem to have the same problem! Except not with chicks...). The chick reveals that she's battling leukemia but he proposes to her anyways, though they are still in high school. She gets her top 5 wishes before she dies. NEWSFLASH! THAT DOES NOT HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE! EVER. No matter how much you believe that perfect prince charming will come along, he won't. And you want to know why? Because he doesn't exist. Sorry to break it to you, hun'. Another thing about this chick flick conspiracy is that movie studios give girls false ideas of what love is. They say love is building a telescope so your dying fiancé can see the star you named after them. They say love is getting married in the same church as your parents did while wearing the same dress that your deceased mother did. It's not. Well, not to me. I think love is a battle. Love between two people is difficult. It takes a lot of compromise and a lot of acceptance. It also takes a fair about of willingness to cope with and help handle problems the other might face. Do chick flicks teach that? No.

>>Toothbrushes: (If you have never before noticed that I am very random, wake up and smell the coffee.) Alright. What's the point of so many different kinds of toothbrushes? They all do the same thing. With a little help from some decent toothpaste, they remove plaque from teeth that cause cavities. Guess what spin brushes do. They spin while removing plaque. Guess what those specialized tongue scrubbing toothbrushes do. They remove plaque from your tongue. Yes, spin brushes take a shorter amount of time, but they can be expensive. Seriously? Buy a normal brush and simply brush for an extended amount of time. And, yes, scrubbing toothbrushes get rid of excess bacteria, but so do normal toothbrushes. Sorry to break it to you, sweetie, but you're going to gag either way.

>>Poptarts, Apple Pies: Gelatin. WHY??! urggg.

>>Feelings: I don't like them. I claim that I don't have them. Whateva. What I don't understand is how I can read everyone else's so well but can't stand my own. Is it just me compensating for what I refuse to experience? Perhaps. I don't know. That's still a thought in the making.

>>Happiness: Is happiness really happy without the existence or presence of sadness? No. It can't be. How can you know about happiness, true joy, if you've never felt sorrow or rage or torment? It simply isn't possible.

>>Sleep: I'm sick and tired of people telling me that I don't sleep. As a matter of fact, I DO sleep. I sleep often. I sleep everyday, just like everyone else. They tell me I don't get ENOUGH sleep. What is 'enough' sleep? 8-10 hours? I sleep 6 hours a night on average. They tell me that normal body processes cannot take place within such a little time period. And you know what I have to say to that? I SLEEP. I may not sleep the suggested amount, but I do sleep. And I've been sleeping for that amount of time all year. For the past two years, even. My body's completely used to it, too. There's this little concept called homeostasis. Basically, human bodies adapt. Mine has. So as for me, I'm sleeping just fine, thank you. You know how I know? "I KNOW my body!" (sorry, that Cosby Show quote was necessary) I know because I'm still alive. I'm not sick; I'm never sick. Vital biological processes are still proceeding. Thank you and have a nice day.

ALRIGHT! I'm done ranting. If you read all of this jazz, then, woohoo!, power to ya'. Comment, if you so choose, but I'm out for now. I feel like brushing my teeth and hopping into bed, hoping that tomorrow, I'll find some organic poptarts and a cardboard cut out of the lovely Jake Gyllenhaal.

Later Days
Peace
H

Another Quote

"'Name three contributions Rome made on the global community.'
'Orgies, Wine, and Bulimia!'"
--Two and a Half Men

A Revolution on Conformity

"Tell me the truth, Frank, remember that? We used to live by it. And you know what's so good about the truth? Everyone knows what it is however long they've lived without it. No one forgets the truth, Frank, they just get better at lying."

This weekend, I had the chance to watch the movie "Revolutionary Road". The cast is award winning: Leonardo DiCaprio (who's going to marry me whether he likes it or not), Kate Winslet, Kathy Bates. The movie itself is a little bizarre, too much screaming for my taste, but the dialogue is killer.
The above quotation is said by Kate Winslet as April Wheeler. It is, by far, the most powerful line in the whole movie. The most powerful character, in my opinion, was John Givings (portrayed by Michael Shannon), the seemingly psychotic son of Mr. Howard and Mrs. Helen Givings (played by Richard Easton and Kathy Bates, respectively). John seemed to be the only character besides the Wheelers whose brain had the capacity to imagine life beyond Revolutionary Road. He was the only one that could see the reason that Frank (DiCaprio) and April Wheeler (Winslet) wanted out of the conformity of the typical 1950's suburban town.
I can't seem to stop myself from thinking about this film. The dialogue presents the real issues with life today, life then. Couples lying to themselves, convincing themselves that they love their hum-drum job, convincing themselves that staying at home, taking care of the children is a lovely way to spend 20 years of your life. The way that one day was just like the next, with everyone within a five mile radius waking up and eating scrambled eggs prepared the same as they were the day before, the year before, the decade before. The way that no one strives to change anything.

"Hopeless emptiness. Now you've said it. Plenty of people are onto the emptiness, but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness."

Organized Religion

I go to a "culturally, religiously and ethnically diverse" school. I've had many friends approach me, saying they are atheist but having once been strongly Christian or dedicated to some church. And what's going on now? They don't believe in organized religion. For a while, I found that mildly unreasonable, but nonetheless understandable. I've been in churches where new, different people receive glances of accusation, like they aren't worthy to attend that church. I never understood why some churches are more like country clubs: how scheming can get you far and blackmailing and get you further. Anytime anyone was looking for a place to go and had given up hope in religion, I had always offered them my church, claiming how 'different' it was.
And, don't get me wrong, it was different.
My youth group was an open place where the "unmentionables" were accepted: gays, lesbians, bisexuals, some people with slight criminal records too.
No one cared what kind of social status you withheld or what neighborhood you lived in.
There was always someone who would listen to your problems, never judging or thinking of your differently just because of the way you were handling things.

Now, I'm not so sure. After the recent turn of events, I've begun to think quite the opposite. My church isn't accepting. It's nowhere near that point. How can I honestly tell my companions that there is a place where God is present and there won't anyone pressuring them into some kind of Communion or membership? How can I advise that they find solace in a place without judgment when that place accuses one of its original members of something they would never do?
Beyond this, I'm beginning to agree with this whole "not believing in organized religion" thing.
I've observed that, maybe, it's possible to be too organized. The point of worship isn't to plan every single minute of it. When everything is planned, it's more likely that someone is going to be forced to do something they don't want to do. When that happens, they tend to resent that kind of organization. Then, they hate it. Then, they doubt everything they grew upon, thus starting the whole process over. Maybe, everyone just needs some chaos.

Later Days,
Peace
H