May 2005 Archives

I think I have a genetic deficiency. I, Kayla Sawyer, am not a workaholic, nor am I "ladder climber" or a "go-to girl." This is not the case with my parents or my sister. They all work full time, every chance they get. My dad works a lot because he likes his co-workers and the camaraderie. He also loves the money. My mom works a lot because she likes success and the sense of accomplishment. She also loves the money. My sister works a lot to get away from her house, and because she likes people, and of coarse - the money.

Maybe it's just because I'm grossly underpaid, or maybe it's just how I am, but I would rather stay home, relax, and be comfortable than go to work and make loads of money. Am I terribly strange? I honesty do not care that I will have less money. I am enjoying this. I love it here. Isn't that what truly matters? If it does, then why am I constantly receiving strange, confused looks whenever I confess this? Most people seem to consider my philosophy somewhat un-American. I suppose I can understand this. Hard work is a part of American culture. I'm sure it's something deeper too. The capitalism bug has been ingrained in us since elementary school. Don't give me that look! Surely you can recall the vocabulary words on the proficiency tests? The same three words, every year, on every test - entrepreneurship, labor, and capitalism. Why do fourth graders need to know those words, I wonder?

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I spent all afternoon yesterday working on getting my links set up. I’ve never been taught HTML before. For me, any [limited] success I have is just from playing around with it and trying certain combinations. By the way, I would like to thank everyone who commented and welcomed me. Especially Lou Gagliardi, since he used Star Wars lingo. Nice to know I won’t be the only geek fan at SHU. I was really surprised to get so many comments! It’s rather daunting to think that people are actually reading this.

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Graduation rehearsal was terrible. Terribly long and terribly boring. When they weren't begging and pleading with us to control our behavior, they were barking out where to walk and when. The girl next to me kept getting tickled by some guy behind her. Every time she'd bat his hands away, she'd hit my chair. I was beginning to get the Stephanie Plum eye twitch.

The Senate compromise is a piece of crap. Yeah. Basically the Democrats said they'd only filibuster in "extreme" cases, and the Republicans said they'd only try the nuclear option under "extreme" circumstances. Which is total crap because the Democrats have only filibustered in extreme cases to begin with (they've allowed 95% of Bush's nominees through, only filibustering 10), and because the Republicans can just bring out the nuclear option whenever a convenient "extreme" time arises. Plus the Republicans can look better because the majority of the American public were against the nuclear option thing to begin with. It's just....crap.

In a related issue: George Voinovich is my new best friend.

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Current Reading:
Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress by Susan Gilman
Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto by Chuck Klosterman
Metamorphisis by Frank Kafka
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon

I'm in the middle of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time at the moment. I had thought that it might have something to do with a character having to go off to college and learning to adjust, etc. It's actually about this autistic kid whose neighbor's dog is murdered. I don't like the book much so far. It's just not to my tastes, I think. There's no humor and every sentence is rather short and robotic. And although the setting of the book is in England, the characters don't use typical British dialogue, with the exception of their curse words. In general I'm finding it to be rather poorly written. I mean, it's rather obvious that the author's only research in autism is probably what he saw in the movie "Rain Man." Maybe I'm just being too harsh..

However, it is an improvement compared to the literary selections in high school, which I've been thinking about lately. Maybe I'm just crazy, but honestly - Go Ask Alice? Because that's not a piece of high-handed excrement written to discourage drug use and various other less-than-socially-acceptable issues. Another crazy idea, how about bringing some books in with actual literary merit? Can we dump I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings? How about tossing some Vonnegut in there or actually teaching kids to question Shakespeare's genius? Critical thought for literature goes beyond analyzing 1984 and Fahrenheit 451. How about some American poetry beyond Robert Frost? Louise Gluck for example, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Pablo Neruda, or Gary Soto? Can we dump the intense admiration for Sylvia Plath and realize that, really, she and Anne Sexton just wrote glorified whining? No, really, what about Doestoevsky or Camus? Oh wait, it'd be too much for the average kids, wouldn't it? We can't ever make them actually try harder or possibly ...fail?

Click below for my little review of Star Wars and the Revenge of the Sith...

Well, today was my last day of the school. Can I get a Hallelujah? Mmmm, sleeping late. I'm so excited I could take a nap right now.

The anatomy final was yet another impossible-to-pass lab practical. I received a 14/100 on the last one. I didn't do much better this time. I got a 99/100 on my anatomy journal though. I searched through the 19 pages of my hard work to see what I lost a point on. When I couldn't find it, I asked the teacher. "I just didn't feel like giving any 100 percents," she said. I once had a literature teacher do the very same thing to me on paper I wrote on transcendentalism. His excuse was that "no paper is truly perfect."
Grade on the final: D - 35/50
Average grade in the class: A (don't ask me how)

My business law final was dull and predictable as the class.
Grade on the final: B
Average grade in the class: A

My western civilization final was fabulous. Easily my best subject (and easily the best teacher).
Grade on the final: A
Average grade in the class: A

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I never have to go back there again. Yet for some odd reason, I'm having trouble summoning up any sort of emotion. I am not happy. I am not scared. I am certainly not sad. I feel like it was just another day. Perhaps all I need to do is simply reflect and I will feel better:

Random things that I will not miss about high school:

- listening to my classmates whine
- my business law teacher parroting back everything I say in the form of a question
- never getting any input on anything I turn in
- disgusting bathrooms
- listening to my male teachers flaunt their "big, tough guy" persona
- not having enough writing or literature classes
- hearing my teachers talk more about their social life than the subject they teach
- wasting six hours and accomplishing nothing
- tedium
- watching my peers create loud, violent disturbances in class after class, and having teacher after teacher stand back and say helplessly "I don't know what to do with them."
- getting up at 6:21a.m.
- never getting any advice on my assignments and therefore, never becoming a better writer
- watching the teachers try even harder than students to invent excuses for us to not do any work
- counting the seconds and the minutes and the hours until I could go home and have my time truly be mine again