obsolete tv shows

Besides Spongebob, I grew up on practically extinct shows my fossil of a Dad made me watch instead of like Disney Channel or something.

My favorite one was MacGyver, (NOT the new one with Lucas Till) which is an action series about a guy who can ‘improvise’ his way out of any situation. Instead of combating danger with weapons like you’d expect, he uses his ability to make gadgets to save himself. To this day I still think the premise is really unique and overall it’s a creative show.

Another much more popular show I watched was the A-team. Again, not the newer movies but the 80’s tv series. It’s also an action about a group of ex-military guys who help people in need and try to clear their name from a crime they didn’t even commit. I remember loving one of the members of the group, Murdoc, who was just this really crazy, goofy guy.

Then there are all the detective shows: Columbo, Magnum PI, Monk, Psych -even Perry Mason- you name it, I’ve seen it. My Dad and I are detective show connoisseurs. He tried to get me to watch cop shows, but they were never my thing (Adam-12, CHiPS).

There was a lot of Sci-fi too, I think Star Trek was my first of these old shows (or Rocky and Bullwinkle). I’ve seen both the Kirk and Picard series, but the former is more memorable/nostalgic for me. There was also Time Tunnel, Twilight Zone, My Favorite Martian, The Munsters, etc.

There is more, this is just the tip of my ancient-shows iceberg. There are some really obscure shows I’ve seen. I bet I’m the only person under 50 who knows what the Petticoat Junction even is. Or the Beverly Hillbillies.

Anyway, I’m actually happy my Dad introduced me to these shows from a young age. They really were charming and shaped much of my early childhood.

pc: https://decider.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/macgyver.png?w=646&h=431&crop=1

Essay

I’m so tired, so here’s part of my English Essay on The Crucible:

Puritan Attitudes in The Crucible

The Crucible, by Arthur Miller, is a semi-fictionalized play based on the Salem Witch Trials of the Massachusetts Bay Colony (1692-93). Salem is Puritanical, meaning they follow a strict moral code and disapprove of pleasure and luxury. Within this culture, Miller tells the story of a lustful girl, a skeptical farmer, a corrupt minister, and a village brewing with secrets and vengeance. After a strange incident in Salem’s forested outskirts, all become embroiled in a Witch hunt that proves deadly. Through well-crafted characters and other story elements, the author manages to capture the Puritan attitude of the time period. 

PC: https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BMjE1MDUxMjg3Nl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwOTA3OTg2.V1.jpg

It is clear from the start that Salem society places an emphasis on the supernatural. Its residents see evidence of God and Satan in all aspects of life. For example, a farmer named Walcott purchases a pig from Martha Giles and blames its prompt death on otherworldly causes. “‘Now he goes to court and claims that from that day to this he cannot keep a pig alive for more than four weeks because my Martha bewitches them with her books,’” Martha’s husband explains in disbelief. Like so many other townsfolk, Walcott is unwilling to hold himself accountable for his mistakes and faults, preferring to lay the blame on witchcraft. Goody Putnam likewise finds the supernatural at the root of unfortunate events, condemning her midwives for a series of seven miscarriages. This habitual blame is wielded as a weapon, and accusations eventually lead to hangings.

little things

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I have so much love for little aspects of life. I love to water my plants. I love to pet my cat because of how loud her purr is. I love to sit on the kitchen counters while dinner is being made, the smell of food circulating the air. I love to imagine those smells as colors floating around me and illuminating the warmth that fills the kitchen. I love it when people make me laugh, It feels like I’m at a loss of breath, which is somehow the best feeling in the world. I love to take the most skin-curdling, brain-melting shower right before bed. I love to hug people goodbye, I imagine the smile on my face the next time I get to see them. I love the song “a day in the life” by the Beatles. I love the book Daisy Jones And The Six. I love to lay on the floor because the hardness feels like an anchor when my mind starts to spin. I love to go to the beach because the sand sticks to my skin. I love to wash the day off of my tired face. I love to smell candles but not light them because I don’t want them to go away too fast. I love white daisy’s in a mason jar. I love to propagate vines. I love to make eye contact with people and let them break it. I love to play with little kids. I love to be at home with my family. I love to watch Formula 1 races. I love to swim and ride my bike at night. I love my mom and dad. And even though he doesn’t think so, I really love Vaughn.

(Excerpt from a Common App essay draft)

I surf with more passion than I’ve ever felt before, but I’d certainly not consider myself good. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever encountered, walls of water like moving mountains, foamy white water like a powerful avalanche, a board which goes from your greatest ally to greatest enemy the moment it is freed from your hands and feet. Is the feeling of a wave worth the pain of falling? Often, yeah it is, small waves, no biggie, a couple seconds of being underwater (burr), and then you paddle back out and try again. But when the waves become giants and the board a brute force weapon, that fall feels like life or death. I remember going out on a day with waves far beyond my skill set, Goliath and Polyphemus in the flesh. Before even paddling for a wave a set came in, the first wave blocked the sun as it groaned past me, the second feathered as I crested its peak desperately paddling to the outside, and the third I was not so lucky. The avalanche hit me, immediately tearing the board from my hands, the wave now groaning on top of me thrashing my body like a ragdoll in a washing machine. My last thought was “I really don’t want to die”,  and then, it was over. The wave passed and adrenaline pulled out beyond the impact zone. So what pushes me to surf in water like this, maybe I just like the adrenaline but I think it’s because putting myself in places beyond my skill set and comfort, where I am deeply imperfect, has shaped who I am. 

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pc: me

Poppi The Opossum

So there’s this baby opossum named Poppi who I’m obsessed with. She was rescued by @opossumsinspire on Instagram and she’s the most perfect little creature that ever existed. I’ll just show you her. You’ll understand.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

This picture was the first one Poppi posted. It’s my screensaver. Sometimes I just stare at this picture. I love her bulging eyes and her limp toes. She looks huge here but she’s actually tiny. You’ll see it in the next picture.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

Every joey needs a mama’s back to ride on. Even if it’s not a typical opossum mom. I love how scruffy she is.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

Poppi’s tail features in this photo. Her little black birthmark on it is adorable. I love her so much.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

One word: TEETH. I can’t.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

She’s literally perfect. Look at those toes. Look at that face.

Photo by @opossumsinspire on Instagram

Poppi is the best at Uno. That’s the face of someone who has three +4 cards in her hand.

Now that you’ve got Poppi fever, my work is done. Go check out @opossumsinspire on Instagram.

comfort

Today it was 86 degrees. This weather is so gorgeous it makes me sick. When I wake up and the sun is shining through my window, I want nothing more than to let my bed swallow me whole until nine pm the same day. I think that it’s so ironic how such a beautiful day could make me want to hide in my room for so long. When I sit in class and look out the window as the heat ripples across the ground, I want to cry and bang my head against the desk. I. Hate. It. I like to put in my left airpod and listen to the same playlist over and over again all day. It mainly consists of Dream, Ivory, Oscar Lang, Deftones, The Walters, and Cocteau Twins. If you were to look it up, it sounds like the feeling of taking a bath at three in the morning in the dark, because that is my comfort. I love to be alone. But not in a sad, I’m so depressed because my life is just the hardest thing in the world kind of way. I like it because it reminds me that every day is the same, and I hate that feeling but in a weird way I love to feel the things that I hate. I love routines. I love when it’s cold outside but I’m wearing two shirts and a hoodie. When you wake up and the sky is grey, you can’t see 50 feet in front of you because of the haze. I love to walk alone at school and wait for the day to end. It’s the same feeling every day that I crave. I love to hate being sad.

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pc: me

Vignette

This is a vignette I wrote over the summer at a creative writing camp I attended. Enjoy.

Syracuse wound through the maze of a prison, following behind his human who led him by the reins. He kept catching Riven’s eye beside him, but neither of them dared to snuffle or neigh to each other for fear of alerting the things their humans feared to their presence. Their humans seemed anxious enough just from the quiet clacking of their hooves on the concrete.

The deformed humans in the cells stared, but were unable to vocalize in any way. The gouges and scars covering their faces were horrifying even without their monstrous, misshapen bodies, so Syracuse tried to keep his eyes anywhere but on those creepy humans. Riven’s skin twitched when something skittered behind him and brushed against his fetlocks, but he did his best to remain calm so he wouldn’t set off his human.

The ground gradually shifted from concrete, to bricks, to carpeted floor. Syracuse and Riven’s hooves were nearly silent on the carpet, and they stared up in wonder as the scenery around them changed to reveal a room bigger than their stable with gold-embellished bookshelves lining every wall from floor to ceiling. However, no matter how much they wanted to explore, their humans kept tugging at them fretfully and they ended up hurrying through the room without being able to get close enough to see a single book title.

Syracuse and Riven were led through several more halls that seemed like they were part of a residency wing of the castle. After what felt like eons to them, their humans brought them up to a massive set of oak doors.

Riven’s human stepped up and pulled one door open. Despite how immense they were, the hinges were perfectly greased and made no noise as the door swung in and flooded the dark entryway with blinding light.

Syracuse and Riven squinted into the sun as their humans took them outside. When their sensitive eyes finally adjusted, they had to stop to gaze upon the gorgeous, sprawling mountains and sheer, marble cliff sides.

Their humans pulled at the reins again, urging on the horses with clucking noises and kisses, and Syracuse and Riven reluctantly moved. They were led down a winding path, and when the road straightened out again, their humans stopped them so that they could mount.

There was no more time to admire the views once their humans were on their backs. Heels dug into their ribs as the humans nudged them into full gallops to get as far from the dreadful castle as they could.

http://www.artnet.com/artists/william-thomas-smedley/two-men-one-black-riding-horses-past-ruins-of-KFE75MMzasrvYDbMqXmYuQ2

Some of my Favorite Things Recently

I’ve started a new school, which, of course, is a challenging transition. It’s easy in times like these to get caught up in anxiety and needless worry, so I find it helpful to redirect my focus to the positive aspects of my life right now. Whether life-changing or minuscule, there is no shortage of things that I LOVE.

  1. Old books: The way the weathered pages feel between my fingers, the smell, the inky typeface.
  2. Pina colada smoothies: I seriously think I would live on these if I could – especially in 100-degree weather.
  3. Sleeping: There’s something so comforting about getting in bed with the AC on so I can snuggle up between the duvet cover and clean sheets.
  4. Shooting stars: I saw one the other day and it was magical.
  5. The sea: The floating, bobbing over waves and swimming with all the fish beneath me.
  6. Gilmore Girls: I will always aspire to be a Rory Gilmore.
  7. Sushi: What I would do for a spicy tuna, avocado roll, or a Lemon Flush special from Hakane…
pc: daily collegian

More Opossums

Look at these opossums.

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He’s a baby. Shut up, he doesn’t need anyone’s opinions.

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He’s so thicc. Look at that face. Give him your soul or else.

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Happy late Mother’s Day. You’ll never be cuter than this mom. She’s perfect.

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Teefs. That’s all.

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The tiny toes and weird worm tail? Perfection.

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I have to live knowing I’ll never be as happy as this opossum. Shoot me.

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He’s so concerned over the oranges being spilled… I’m going to cry.

https://www.boredpanda.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/funny-cute-possums-opossums-119-61b9f4db116b7__700.jpg

No one will ever love me as much as I love this opossum. Nothing even matters.

Sorry for getting emo on y’all. Opossums give me so many emotions.

No more high school baseball

My high school baseball career has come to a close.

I recently contracted Covid-19 which caused me to miss our round 2 playoff game, which would ultimately be the final game of our season and final game of my high school career. It was a weird feeling knowing I just my time as a high school athlete ended without being able to do anything about it. I got so many texts and phone calls from people telling me how sorry they were that this happened to me but I didn’t feel sorry for myself nor did I feel any emotion at all. I was just focused on making sure the people around me didn’t get sick while everyone else was focused on the fact I can no longer play high school baseball.

The funny thing is I am content with my career coming to end the way it did. For instance, in the last game I played in we won, our school got its first-ever playoff win in school history, and I balled out. So there’s no bad taste in my mouth about how my high career came to an end. I am also playing baseball in college so that makes this ending not too bad.

However, there are a few things I miss about high school ball. I’ll miss the road trips to away games, the inside jokes with the guys, getting yelled at by my head coach, and getting out of class early on gamedays. I’ll miss the early morning lifts, the post-game workouts, the late nights hitting off the tee, the extra work after practices, the sprints, batting practice, catching bullpens the day after catching a whole game because we don’t have a backup catcher. But the one thing I’ll miss the most the memories I’ve made with all my teammates.

pc: mlb.com