Derived from my experiences from boarding schools, food delivery is inevitable. Boarding school’s rigorous schedule is demanding for students. I was wondering if my thought applies to other boarding school kids, and from their testimonies I could say for sure that boarding school’s food is insufficient for students. I believe that to boost boarding school kid’s morale , the school is responsible for better quality of food.
I acknowledged that the food can’t be perfect, but if school at least tries to satisfy students by communicating with them, I’m pretty sure that in result students will achieve greater performances, for instance, in academics, sports, and involvement. Also by better quality of school food, the trash caused by delivery will reduce significantly, which diminishes one of the big concerns in our school. In conclusion, I believe that if school communicates with student for better quality of food, the benefits will outweigh the negative effects.
OVS for sure is a great school, however, I believe there are some parts that could be better in future perspective. For example, breakfast check in. In my opinion, breakfast check in is inefficient for both boarders and teachers. Derived from my experience, it is hard to finish the school work within study hall period, so I would stay up late to finish my work. However, OVS requires borders to check in by 7:35. As a result, students who stayed up late struggle to make it to check in. Students would have to wake up super early to get ready for school.
Credit: gettyimages
If school gets rid of breakfast check in, or if school could make breakfast check in as punishment for misbehavior. Student would start off day lively and they would better perform in school by focusing more in classes. Therefore school should not force students for breakfast check in for students, which would benefit the school as a result.
The entire day, I have been thinking about what to write and what to say. Quite frankly, I have nothing to say. So here is everything that has been swallowing me alive this week:
This week, I have exhausted my opinions and today, I feel indifferent about all those previous feelings.
Being a Libra, one of my qualities, more like flaws, is that I am indecisive. Sometimes, I cannot make a decision even if my life depended on it and that scares me as I apply for college.
I am so excited to vote next year.
I am done with the cliches that I hear in music and see on TV. Why can’t the world be real with me?
How much water is too much water to drink?
The sun is literally going to cook me alive and sunscreen will not stop it.
Why did all my teacher’s decide to give me tests in the same week? Just wondering.
I believe that we are not alone in this universe and I want to be the one to truly prove that.
The world is crumbling under our feet and so many people are careless about it.
Clouds are crazy.
I am a consumer and I hate it.
Even though its 100 degrees, I want to be in a hot tub.
Is it okay if my conditioner is my best friend?
This is a brief look inside my brain and conscience this week.
It is common knowledge that Junior year is (most likely) the hardest year of a students high school career. At least that is the case at OVS, where AP courses dominate one’s time and extra curriculars are essential. Senior year is supposed to be different though. There’s the anticipation of college, of being an adult, of spending the last year with people that you’ve grown up with. That’s what I thought when I arrived a week late to school. I expected a general sense of positive anticipation, of laxness and comradery. At first that was true. Everything had a tinge of refreshment and independence. But there was a feeling there that I didn’t expect, but that I was strangely familiar with. And as the days progressed, that feeling expanded, suffocating those sentiments of senior status. Then I began seeing it in other people. Not everyone. Not to the same degree that I was feeling it. But it wasn’t just me. It’s something like this, quoting a good friend of mine: “It feels like I’m rotting on the inside and out, if that makes sense.” To me, it makes perfect sense. That was the feeling that had been growing. A general sense of self degradation. I wasn’t the person that I used to be. Maybe it’s change. Maybe it’s stress. Maybe it’s life experience. I don’t know the cause, but it’s there nonetheless. It’s frightening, even more so when two of your closest friends express those same sentiments to you within a week. Maybe it’s just me, and those of you reading this don’t feel it at all. But if you do feel like something is hollowing you out, if you feel like there’s an unstoppable source of existential decay, then try smiling a little more. Tell your friends you care about them. Do something good every day.
Who knows, maybe you’ll end up on our thumbs up segment of The Wednesday Briefing.
This is my last year in high school where my grades need to be A’s, where my extra curricular activities matter. This is my last year where cramming in PSAT prep will benefit me, and the last year where SAT prep is a dreaded ritual.
After this year, the hours on hours of work, sleepless nights, cramming for texts, student leadership applications, struggles I faced, fun memories I had, volunteer activities, extra curriculars, and sports achievements will all be put on to a single document… The last three years of my life will be put on a document; an application.
By the end of this year I’m supposed to have a general idea of my life plan, my career, and my identity.
By the end of the year I’m supposed to have perfect SAT scores, ACT scores, and 5’s on AP tests.
By the end of the year I’m supposed to be a person who will stand out amongst millions of other applicants.
This is my last year to become who colleges want me to be while still trying to stay true to the person I want to be.
In less than 365 days, I will need a paper explaining who I am, what I want to do, what I stand for, what sets me apart, and why I belong at the college receiving the paper. All of who I am, all of why I’m special, and all of why I belong in 650 words.
A transcript and 650 words which will determine my future, career and where I will be for the next four to eight years.
A lot to think about… a lot to do, a lot at stake. Welcome to junior year.
To some degree, everyone 25 and younger is an IT expert. When the WiFi stops working, it is usually the duty of the youngest member available to fix it. You just switch the button on and off and Lo! you are beheld as a technological deity, as the internet now works perfectly. Your family praises you, and you become the go to person every time something technology related goes wrong. But we know the truth. Those of us who have experienced this phenomenon know, buried deep inside of our consciences, that we in fact know very little about technology. I have fallen victim many a time to this, especially when I slightly adjust the HDMI cable for Ms. Wilson. But my technological skills (or lack thereof) finally met their match. The portal into the WordPress site was a treacherous one. A cyclical loop of “Error 404” and “Please have the moderator re-invite you.” But then it appeared. Suddenly and out of nowhere. A big button that said “Start writing.” This, this was my salvation. And so yeah basically here I am. I figured it out. Easy peasy. Yep.
have i missed something? does the whole world revolve around this car’s dire need for washer fluid?
well you know heckin what, car
i dont care that your washer level is low
i dont care that your tire pressure is a potential threat to my safety
i dont care that maintenance was required a substantial amount of months ago
or that your entire existence rests on trying to prohibit me from listening to Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me!
(finally some much needed radio silence, my normally needy car gives me a breather, i turn into 89.3 KPCC like any self-important masochist. ahhhh. how lucky i am to tune into the sweet sweet sonorous sound of the voice of Peter Sagal the host of NPR’s greatest and only radio game show. my car obviously understands the pleasurable tones created by the one and only Bill Kurtis, the narrator of this great weekly hour of radio. and my car picks now as the perfect time to send a certifiable fuck ton of alerts, ranging from topics as important as aforementioned washer fluid or that the car is in need of a software update, blaring through my car speakers. now quite honestly i didn’t know cars could even have software updates, let alone that they were so important that i should miss an important line of NPR’s most high-quality comedic banter, but i swear to all the gods that may be, if this self important piece of german engineering chimes at me again there will be a germany sized whole in the continent known as europe)
your chorus of chimes and beeps and brrrungs remind me the second i turn the key that my seat belt should be on. i was just about to put it on, but obviously im not quick enough for you and your quarter of a second delay.
a vehicle is anything that moves or transports. this car is more something that annoys me more than OSX updates.
(OSX updates that the lovely folks at apple think are priority numero uno, however we know this to be false, i have to put new windshield wiper fluid in my car.)
forgive me oh state farm for i have sinned i have wronged mine car. my car that moves or transports like it is meant to; that roars and tears into its intricacies, generating a herd of horses to move or transport me to and from school; that pairs, through the magic that is bluetooth, to my phone bringing me summer reading audio books as well as crosby, stills, nash, and young all the same.
my car which takes me to coffee and groceries, that supplies a warm butt in the mornings and cool AC in the afternoon.
you defrost thine own windows, you display thine own manual. you know thine own tire pressure, you never cease to tell me about it.
you’re a mechanical beast that does so much more than moving and transporting. you purr when you idle, content to cool and blast NPR. you roar when i press on the gas in neutral by accident. and you alert me with hope in your chime about the absence of washer fluid in your stores.
but you, oh vehicle of my dreams, oh vehicle my parents so rarely let me drive, you annoy me so deeply and to the core i am tempted to just walk.
I like to live in my head a lot. My mind is racing constantly with ideas, things to say, ways to approach conflicts, what to wear the next day. But most prominently, I see myself taking several different paths in my life, each of them dramatically different and in each of them, the same me.
I see myself going to New York after school and being an assistant to a high-up, liberal lawyer who defends the rights of the people.
I see myself traveling the world, opening my mind and not settling down until later in my life.
I see myself never coming back to Ojai.
I see myself becoming a cook and writing about my connection to food and the happiness it brings me and others.
I see myself being a complete activist who stands up for social and environmental causes resulting in a better, happier planet.
But I also see myself doing exactly what I currently plan on doing, going to school and becoming educated.
Even though each of these potential futures that I have created for myself are drastically different, there is a common thread, and that’s my happiness. I find myself extremely joyed in each of these positions. I am able to be myself.
I am at a point in my life where, for the first time, I can choose what I want to do in my future without restrictions. Now, taking my life into my own hands is a reality. But I have to ask myself, what am I prepared to do to get to one of these places?
OVS Journalism Blog 
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