College college college college college college college college.

I’m in 10th grade, a minuscule little sophomore, and I already have counselors and parents coming at me saying, “It’s never too early,” and “I think you have the initiative. So just start now!”

It’s not that I’m not thinking about college, because I am. I’ve been thinking about what college I want to go to since 8th grade. But with everyone just all of a sudden coming up to me and asking, “Oh, what do you want to major in? What college do you want to go to? What do you want to do with your life?” everything becomes a bit overwhelming. Because, in all honesty, I get embarrassed when I tell people what I want to do for a living. I’m not embarrassed of my career choice, but I’m embarrassed of their reactions. Every single time I mention what I want to become, someone is there to shoot it down and leave my hopes at rock bottom. I want to do what makes me happy, but obviously I’m the only one who sees it that way, aren’t I?

“Oh, Aria, what do you want to do with your life? What do you want to do when you’re older?”
“I want to be an English teacher.”
“You want to what!?”
“Be an English teacher. And work in theatre. But mainly English.”
“Oh, honey, how foolish could you be? Don’t you know the salary of a teacher?”
“I do, but I don’t care. I want to teach.”
“Oh, well, you’ll see it our way soon.”


I understand that I won’t have the highest income out there, but teaching is something that I really want to do. I’ve never had a teacher who has effected me neutrally, they’ve either been a huge positive influence on my life or a huge negative influence. I want to be the teacher that a student will remember forever. The teacher that can teach and just possible change someone’s life. I want to be able to help people in one of the simplest ways. I want to teach.

So it shouldn’t matter to other people whether I want to be an English teacher or an astronaut; it’s my decision and they can’t change my mind.

So maybe I’ll go to USC, or UCLA, or some microscopic liberal arts college on the east coast. Maybe I’ll change my mind and attend freaking Harvard.

But it’s my choice now, and only mine. They can just deal with it.

Racism in Football

This weekend’s friendly between Scotland and Brazil saw an ugly display of racism, one that cannot be tolerated.

I support Brazil in the international game because of how great they play football. Most Americans are incredulous on how I could not support my home country but the fact of the matter is I support Brazil because they play the best football.

During their friendly against Scotland (which was played in England), the Brazilian youngster Neymar got two goals. Being 19 years old, that is extremely impressive. But when Neymar went to take a penalty kick, a fan through a banana on to the pitch.

For someone who does not know Neymar this might seem irrelevant but Neymar is black. This is a unexcusable action that should be heavily punished. Neymar and the other Brazilian players are out showing the world their skills. They do not show hatred towards anyone.

Neymar is a young kid who is making it in the crazy world of football and he does not deserve this.

I support Scotland in most games (except when they play Brazil ironically) because my heritage is from there. But the Scottish fans who were involved in the throwing of the banana and the usage of racial slurs against the Brazilians should be ashamed of themselves. I am embarrassed to say that I support Scotland after this incident.

This is not the first time Brazil has had to deal with intolerance. going back over 50 years, Brazil has taken the brunt of many racial insults. Argentina fans often refer to Brazil as being the (n-word) team because Brazil has many more blacks due to colonization than Argentina.

France, with its large population of black soccer players, has also had to put up with racial prejudice. I will say that FIFA does everything they can to stop the hate; banning certain fans they catch on tape and even banning some teams from playing in front of spectators.

But FIFA should not be the ones who have to get people to stop, it should be the fans. As a football fan I want to say enough is enough. Supporting the other team is no excuse for being racially intolerant. Let us enjoy the wonderful skill and appreciate what there people are giving to us.


I cannot even describe my love for people who act like they are your friend but in actuality spend their days discussing their absolute hatred towards you.

Honestly, it makes me laugh.

But I truthfully just don’t understand the reasoning behind it.

If I never asked you to be my friend and you simply say horrid things about me, then I obviously don’t care to be your friend.

So why fake it?

I believe that if you don’t want to be someones friend, than simply don’t.

If you don’t like someone, then don’t be rude, but simply don’t talk to them.

I just don’t understand why someone would take the time to pretend to be nice to you.

It doesn’t make sense.

And I also have an issue with people who have such utter hatred towards you for no absolute reason.

If I don’t even talk to a person, then why would they even care about me?

Maybe it’s a person’s lack of happiness, or a life for that matter.

Or maybe their heart is just a tiny hardened piece of stone.

In actuality, I feel bad for these people.

For they can say as many things about a person and get as many people to side with their arrogant opinions. But in the end, at least I am not a selfish, conceded, arrogant jerk.

I thank these people for making me stronger, more confident, and more aware of the horrid people who exist in the world.

P. S.

Since you actually have the audacity to call me immature for blocking you on Facebook, I will have the audacity to tell you this.

You’re not my friend in real life, so why would I want to be your friend anywhere else.

If You Don’t Have Anything Nice to Say, Don’t Say Anything At All.

For the first time in a very long time, I was shocked and shaken to the very core. I was ashamed to know that I share the world with such narrow minded people and I was reminded of the ignorance and blind arrogance that plagues and clings to our society like a heavy, dirty rag.

A few days ago, my friend shared a YouTube video with me. It was a video of a blonde girl, Alexandra Wallace, from UCLA, singling out a group of people, stereotyping all Asians. Let me tell you, it was nothing short of disgusting. Click here to watch the video.

In her rant, she complained about the burdens of having Asians in the dorms on the weekend. Their family members come on the weekends to cook for them and she claimed that their parents were not letting them grow independent. Apparently, having parents who care for their children enough to come and cook homemade food for them is a huge nuisance for her. At this point, Alexandra left me thinking “Why does it matter to you?”

It only snowballed from that point.

Rolling her eyes, Alexandra continued to rant about Asians in the library. Apparently while poor Alex was studying her political science, Asians were always on the phone. She raised a mocking hand to her face and opened her flagrant mouth: “OHHH CHING CHONG BING BONG TING TONG.”She heartlessly disclaimed the severity of the earthquake in Japan and proudly mounted herself on a rocky pedestal of fool’s gold when she called herself “the polite, American girl.” She publicly and very ironically announced that Asians needed to learn “American manners.” Sadly, this queen bee, this high and mighty girl who studies political science has forgotten that America, a salad bowl of cultures, was founded on its immigrants. “American manners” is in part Asian manners as well as manners of Hispanics, Africans, Germans, Italians, and more.

What shocked me the most was the her complete dismissal of the disaster that has shocked Japan. In her few short words, she had repudiated the heartbreak and worry that the earthquake brought onto many. My friend, Minako Otake, could not sleep all night when she heard of the news because she was worried for her family at home. She was tense, waiting for the call to hear the comforting voice of her mom and dad telling her that they were okay and to know that they weren’t a part of the thousands that were reported to be injured or dead. My boyfriend’s family lives in Japan. As Alexandra called it, “the tsunami thing” is a very good excuse to answer a phone call in the library.

The motives for her video were racist, debasing, and facile. I am sure that Asian families aren’t the only “hoards” of people that come to visit on the weekends. I am sure that Asians aren’t the only ones in the library that are using their phones and I am sure that she has probably realized the magnitude of her words. In these 2 minutes and 52 seconds, Alexandra Wallace of UCLA proved her sheer ignorance.

I am Korean American and proud of it. I know that when I get into college, wherever that may be, my family will come visit me on the weekends too and bring me food and maybe do my laundry. It is not because I am Asian. It is because I know my family will try to make my first year of college as comfortable as it can be. I know that I will probably be one of the many people from different ethnicities that might use their phones in the library. I know that my language might sound like a harsh din of rushing vowels and clanging consonants to the foreign, prejudiced ear but it is most definitely not something to be mocked or ashamed of.

In a world where people strive to be different and find beauty in the rarity of things, it is remarkable and eye opening when I find someone so narrow minded and audacious as she. To label a group of people because of their roots is wrong. What kind of world would we live in if we were all one generic race, one generic language, and one generic look? Hopefully, Alexandra Wallace (and many others) will come to terms with the many cultures that constitute our diverse home that we call America. Until then, I hope, at the very least, the magnitude of her words and their ramifications has taught her that if she doesn’t have anything nice to say, she shouldn’t say anything at all.

Under-appreciated in the NBA

Many of the NBA’s best players go unnoticed throughout their careers. The Best example of an under-appreciated player is Derek Fisher.

Fisher is the team player. He has put up solid stats for his whole career. This season, the 36 year old Laker has averaged over 6 ppg. But what Fisher brings to the court is more than talent, he brings heart. This inspires all of the other players to be better.

Another under-appreciated player is John Wall. Wall is the poster boy for being under-appreciated.  The rookie gets edged out of the spot light because of the fan’s favorite rookie, Blake Griffen. Wall would get the rookie of the year award if it weren’t for Griffen. John Wall is the player no one wants to guard. He is quick and has a good jump shot. He will have quite a career if he can get off of the Wizards.

The final player I want to talk about is Joakim Noah. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Noah is one of the best centers in the league. He is the Derek Fisher of the East. He brings not only heart to the floor, but also talent. 



So for almost every teenager, the weekend is a time of rest and recuperation from the stress of school.

But my weekends never seem to end with me feeling refreshed and ready for school.  I’m always so busy on the weekends hanging out with friends and going out.  The reason my weekends always feel so jam-packed is because of the time commitment OVS attempts to put on their day students.

Now, understand that I have successfully circumvented the rules and actually get out of school earlier, AND don’t have to play a sport or fitness.  But for the other Day students that are forced to be around at OVS for agonizing hours on end, they have absolutely no time. When I played soccer, some nights I would not get home until seven o’clock!  So the reason why I believe that weekends leave OVS students more tired then refreshed is simply because of the long hours put onto the students.

The New Punk?

Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All. Quite a name for a rap group, isn’t it? However, OFWGKTA, or Odd Future, as they are often called, is as far from a traditional rap group as they come.

They have been described as “horrorcore” and “Alternative Hip Hop,” and have dismissed the first, while reluctantly accepting the second. However, thinking about what the represent in the Hip-Hop world today, I’ve come up with an new way to describe OFWGKTA, “Punk Rap.”

The definition of Punk Rock is, “rock music with deliberately offensive lyrics expressing anger and social alienation; in part a reaction against progressive rock.”

Well, if that’s Punk Rock, and Odd Future’s music could be described as rap music with deliberately offensive lyrics expressing anger and social alienation; in part a reaction against progressive rap, then I’d say that that makes them pretty Punk.

I can’t post any of their lyrics that demonstrate it here, but the Orange Juice and Yonkers show it pretty well.

Ran for Japan

Today I partook in a nice run along Santa Monica‘s beach in the rain with a few friends. We ran for two miles and hung out for a while afterwards with all the snacks possible available to us. Why were we there you might ask. The title explains it all.

The Tokidoki relief run took place this morning and I wanted to partake. The funds from the 10 dollar entry fees went to the relief effort for the Japanese earthquake and tsunami. We would have bought T-shirts but thanks to the beaten up anime characters on them, we thought “yeah, a simple white t-shirt will do just fine.” They were cute little drawings though. The power rangers were there, and we took pictures with them. For more information please visit my Facebook account.

Josh Duhamel was running it which is the main reason why my friends and I ran into Fergie. Why Paris Hilton was there, well, we won’t argue with another good thing. For us, it was a good incentive to keep running. We wanted to catch up to them. Honestly, they’re well put together, but look the point is it was all in good fun for a good cause.

The day turned beautiful, we enjoyed the beach and chilled for a while afterwards, and got to see the hottest of the Black Eyed Peas. It was a good day to go to the beach, and we all walked away feeling like we had accomplished something special.

If you pay 10 dollars, you might have helped a small piece of Japan, but if you tell your friends and they tell theirs, then you have saved a nice chunk of it.

The Fighter

So I was watching The Fighter yet again with a buddy of mine this past weekend. He hadn’t seen it yet and I thought it was rather absurd that it had been this long without him seeing this piece of cinematic gold. It was nominated at the Oscars for many different academy awards including Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor, and Best Supporting Actress just to name a few. Any way, after I went to Blockbuster and saw it was completely sold out (for good reason), I bought it on my TV. We both sat down, shut up, got the food out, and watched the movie.

The film is set in Lowell Mass. circa 1993. It follows the story of road worker and actual boxer in real life, Mickey Ward played by Mark Wahlberg. A 31 year old “stepping stone” as he is called by critics and the residents, he lives under the over protective eye of his mother/manager Melissa Leo and in the shadow of his trainer/step brother, a once promising boxer Dicky Eklund played by Christian Bale. Eklund is the pride of Lowell for having fought Sugar Ray Leonard on HBO in 1978 and having “knocked him down” even though it is determined that Leonard simply tripped. Yet after having all the  notoriety come too fast and too soon, Eklund has slipped into crack addiction and crime. He lives in a rundown crack house, repeatedly shows up late to training sessions, and is constantly in drug induced hazes on the days of Mickey’s fights.

Back to Ward. Ward is a very talented boxer, but he is simply falling victim to the wrong fights and with a real chance on the horizon at the age of 31, he is torn between doing what’s best for him and his loyalty to his family. It’s a great story about how this very lovable and real character makes it to the top of the boxing world. It is a very Rocky-esque rise to the top indeed.

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Moammar Gadhafi: Enemy, Dictator… Friend?

“He gave us life. I am ready to die for him. He is a father, a brother and a friend to whom you can confide. You have no idea how humble he is.” (Fatia, 27).

When you think of the name Moammar Gadhafi, you don’t necessarily think “humble”. Well, supposedly, while the rest of the world sees this pernicious dictator as a threat to the safety and overall freedom of Libya, the women of his growing army see him as the father they never had.

The girls, or women rather, are recruited by Gadhafi himself and enrolled in a three year training “school” where they are transformed from proper, virtuous, daddy’s girls into highly trained, bazooka blasting, high heel-wearing, ninja warrior, Gadhafi girls.

These young women are literally made into modern day Charlie’s Angels. “Trained killers” is what Lauren Frayer, contributor to AOL News calls them and that is positively what they are. Throughout their training they are educated in martial arts and rocket launching and are unconditionally devoted to their Libyan leader. Women who will literally [like Jesus] die for him. I mean really willing to die. For example, as Gadhafi was being shot at, one of them jumped in front of him and took the bullets and died! That, my friends, is loyalty.

“Revolutionary nuns” is what they call them. Yes, “nuns”. And whatever ideas you can draw out of that…it’s true. I won’t go on any further.

So, could this be the work of Gadhafi’s “Casanova” prowess, or does Lybia’s fearless leader actually have some fraction of a soft side?