This is the fifth post I’ve written in one sitting, I’m pretty sure this makes me up to date… I’ll ask Alula since she seems to be the only one counting. I think I’m going to clean my room after work today. It desperately needs it, fortunately for me I love cleaning my room, I think the transition from a complete mess to a space that people want to be in is spectacular. It’s not even just the before and after, I really like picking this up, organizing, and throwing things away like the whole process is good.
Ok, im back at home, it’s like 8:30, I’m not going to clean cause im tired but I think I’ll do some work in the morning and then finish it off tomorrow night. I’m going to watch Scent of a Woman and see if it’s actually good, prob won’t be. Alright, I think that’s just about enough words and I don’t really want to be doing homework anymore so I’ll see you next week. Maybe. More likely in a couple weeks when I have to catch up on a bunch again.
Oi Vey! Here we go again. For someone who dislikes writing these nuisances, I very much enjoy reading them. Except for that one dude who wrote about the way women smell like that’s pretty weird dog. Elizabeth, I think your bad luck might have to do with the fact that you had a drink on your piano, I’m pretty sure that’s sacrilegious or something. Alula be careful expecting this summer to be the best ever, high expectations have a tendency to let us down I recommend trying to just go with the flow rather than assuming what the future will be. I liked your Journey w/ Journalism post. I wish Mr. Alaverez mandated that we all wrote these like even the Journalism 2 students. honestly, I wish the whole school had to do them. I think the way people write in casual circumstances is a great view of their personality. Not that it’s a complete view of who they are but writing without revisions is like a way to see how people think and I find that super interesting. I wonder what people think of me and my writing, I definitely don’t put as much thought into these as other people do but I still think that they provide a view of me. I think the discussion about movies was my favorite Journalism class ever. It was probably one of the first things that made me think about how I’ll miss OVS. Last night, we were talking about how even though OVS is small and we often consider that a bad thing, it really forces you to interact with people you normally wouldn’t and I think that is fantastic. Like, and I’ve said this before, but there’s really nobody at the school I wouldn’t be absolutely opposed to hang out with outside of school. We really have an amazing collection of individuals here.
How did I even get this far behind on blog posts this is crazy. Steely Dan is so fire. I mean Do It Again is just such a head bopper, how does one even create something so in tune with the human spirit? Not to mention the other songs on that album, I can’t remember the name right now but you know the songs I’m talking about. Speaking of music, I really wish I could consume more of it, I actually would like to be able to absorb it, like through my skin, idk I feel like it never sounds high quality enough. I want my body just like be the music. When I die I just want to be a sound frequency, probably of a Steely Dan song, well not really, I definitely would take a while to decide what song I want to be after this life. Maybe A Milli by Lil Wayne that song is excellent. Or White Ferrari which is actually like a mid-song but the way it looks on the oscilloscope makes up for all the averageness of the track itself. Ok, I’d say that’s about one hundred and fifty words so I’ll stop just talking nonsense.
Hello and welcome back to Emanuel’s blogs. One hundred and fifty words of free thought so that he doesn’t get zeros on them. He being me, I am he, there is only me. Anyway, I love garage sales, it’s like modern-day exploring. Today I got a carabiner watch and a point-and-shoot camera. The camera is a Canon Powershot SD600 I like the way it looks and feels in my hand. It has a tiny viewfinder which I think is cool. I don’t have a charger for it but Ben does so I’ll go over to his house after work and pick that up probably.
I’m so done with school, I know this is a fairly universal feeling for seniors in their last month of Highschool but holy moly it’s getting to be a lot. Something about listening to the junior talk about college as if it’s the most important thing ever really bothers me. Like why are they so keen to change who they are to fit into a school, every single one of them is incredibly smart and industrious and interesting but for some reason they have this competitive, verging on toxic, view of the college process. Like if they would just be themselves they would probably do better than when they all freak out about how to curate the application to a school.
I’m at work right now. It’s pretty boring. The weird thing about working here is that you actually don’t have to do any work at all. I’m just sitting here wasting time on Instagram and Craigslist; endlessly scrolling mass consuming irrelevant content. Anyway, I decided I should probably do real work so I don’t get zeros on all my blog posts, or worse, get shamed by Alula in the group chat. I know these only need to be one hundred and fifty words (see what I did there ) but I seem to be completely adverse to doing them. I never want to make bad content so I procrastinate but by pushing them off to the last minute I end up making bad ones anyway. I think this one is long enough, so I’ll see you in a couple minutes when for the next one.
Touring Mr. Floyd’s crib was lit. It’s very nice on the inside and outside. As soon as we walked up and inside, he was very welcoming. We got introduced to his dog Pixie, she’s a lab dog, and she’s not allowed on the couch. He gave us a fridge tour and put us onto some of his favorite recipes, which I can’t expose to you guys. After that, he showed us all his rooms and his paintings. The house is a lot bigger than I thought and it has a very nice finish on the inside. After that he showed us the spacious master bedroom and the closet and bathroom. After that, we went outside and he showed us his destroyed chicken coupe, which had been destroyed by the wind and then we got to see where the chickens now stay. There was a very funny-looking chicken that was entirely black and had a white afro, fool looked like a founding father LOL.
In no particular order, here are some movies and shows I watched, loved, and would highly recommend. Some of them I grew up with and others I’ve seen in the past year, some of them are basic, and others maybe not so much.
The Queen’s Gambit, The Matrix, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Stand By Me, The Notebook, Mamma Mia (the original), 13 Going on 30, Gilmore Girls, Where the Crawdads Sing, The Sound of Music, How to Lose a Guy in 10 days, 10 Things I Hate About You, Amélie, Goodwill Hunting, Clueless, Scream, When Harry Met Sally, Miss Congeniality, Dirty Dancing, Forrest Gump, The Shining, Friends, Steel Magnolias, Stranger Things, Star Wars, The Florida Project, Moonrise Kingdom, The French Dispatch, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The End of the F***ing World, The Edge of 17, Les Miserables, The Karate Kid (the original), 500 Days of Summer, It’s a Wonderful Life, Psycho, The Fugitive, Pretty Woman, and Only Murders in the Building.
And here’s a short version of my to-watch list:
Roma, Léon (The Professional), and The Great Gatsby.
So I rolled my ankle the day before the league final track meet- an event I’d been looking forward to all season. All my life, there’s been a pattern. I will have roughly 4 days where everything is just fabulous and going my way, life is terrifically smooth and easy but it abruptly comes to an end, followed by an equally long period of just comically terrible rotten awful luck! And this eternal pendulum swings between luck and misery, creating balance in my polarized life.
It’s gotten to the point that I will recognize whatever “phase” I’m in and alter my behavior because of it. If I realize I’m in a bad luck week I will be more cautious and weary of what I’m doing. It’s like a legitimate phenomenon, really, if there are any scientists out there totally out of things to study, this could be it.
Right now, I am definitely in that bad luck phase. My computer just died while I was getting the charger for it WHILE typing this, I am getting bug bites too, and I accidentally spilled a drink on my piano earlier this evening. I realize these are serious first-world problems and it could be so much worse, but dealing with all these little annoyances really makes me mad enough to write a whole blog post about it. You’re not going to believe this- but my first draft of this wouldn’t even save so I had to start over!
To be honest I don’t know if I actually believe in luck or not, but what I do know is I either have it all or not even a smidge.
I love old technology. The analog feel of buttons and dials under my finger, the lights of a stereo amp, the crackle of vinyl, and the warped sound of an overplayed cassette tape––all create beauty we so often lose in the digital world. The beauty of chaos, the unorganized, and the functionless. These devices hold value in their aesthetics but also through the stories that define them.
Such objects fill my room with stories from my own life and the countless others they’ve encountered. Next to my bed sits a CRT TV I found abandoned on the road. It works surprisingly well for a piece of technology made before Facebook, though, like the person who left it behind, not many would think much of it. It’s been replaced by two decades of 4K ultra-HD developments, which produce bigger, brighter images. Why would anyone watch a special effects masterpiece on something with the quality of a cave painting and a screen smaller than a shoebox?
I see its beauty though, the way it needs to warm up before turning on, the way it cracks and clicks when you try to push its archaic buttons, and the decaying colors of the few remaining VHS tapes, long-forgotten.
I imagine this TV didn’t change hands many times. It was probably bought new at Radio Shack in Ventura, six years before I was born. It probably sat in someone’s living room playing movies for their kids on family game night, and then their grandkids, and then it probably sat in the garage taking up space until they finally decided the black hunk of metal, glass, and plastic was an eyesore whose good days were as long gone as its remote. Now it sits as an exhibit in my room, a reflection of others’ memories and a piece of art for me to admire.
Like this old TV, I, too, can easily be overshadowed by things bigger and brighter. I surf with more passion than I’ve ever felt before, but by most standards, I’d be considered unremarkable.
Surfing’s the scariest thing I’ve ever encountered: walls of water like moving mountains, foam like a powerful avalanche, a board that goes from being your greatest ally to greatest enemy the moment it’s freed from your grip. Is the feeling of a wave worth the pain of falling? Often, it is. Small waves, no biggie, a couple seconds of being under frigid water, and then you paddle back out and try again. But when the waves become giants and the board a brute-force weapon, that fall begins to exceed your limits.
I remember going out on a day with waves far beyond my skill set—Goliath and Polyphemus in watery form. Before I even paddled 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, the third, I wasn’t so lucky. The avalanche hit me, immediately tearing the board from my hands. The wave was now groaning on top of me, thrashing my body like a ragdoll in a washing machine. Then, it was over. The wave passed, and I was okay. So what pushes me to surf in these conditions? I think it’s because putting myself in places beyond my skill set and comfort, where I’m deeply flawed, has shaped me. I find love and beauty in the places where I know I’ll fall, for it’s there that I find who I am.
I climb, hike, surf, and run, but most athletic is an unlikely yearbook superlative.
Like the TV, I, too, crack and click when I’m pushed too hard. If all that made me was performance, I, too, would be left on the street without a second thought, but I am my story not my statistics. I too, have beauty, which lies not in my achievements but in my imperfections.
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