Tag: college

It’s Today

shredicusmaximusLeave a comment

Today I woke up to hear that I got into Chapman University. My baseball team the Ojai Valley School Spuds beat Ventura County Christian 7-4 in an exciting game yesterday. I saw my confidant Colm Barrett pitch into the 5th inning striking out 12 and permitting 4 unearned runs,  Cole McIntosh hit a clutch RBI double in the first inning, and I don’t want to brag but I pitched pretty well too and got my first career save.

Seems that the good is going to continue for a while, at least for another 6 months and I’ll tell you why. It’s opening day today.

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Colleges.

theycallmedame2 Comments

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.”

WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

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.

Nasty Habit!

yrreskrap3 Comments

Old habits are hard to break-even the nasty ones.


I bite my nails. I have periods when I break the habit, but during times of anxiety and pressure, I assuage my nerves with a dose of nail biting.


It’s gross, I know, but strangely stress relieving. Weird. Funny thing is, I hate looking at other people biting their own nails!

I had stopped the habit sometime last week but with the SAT just yesterday, I began to bite. I’m still biting because it’s very hard to stop once I’ve begun but I will try in order to let them grow and look prim for prom!

I don’t suppose I will be able to completely put an end to the habit until I get into colleges next year. Until then, I will battle the habit, temporarily stopping just to go back to biting again.

Expulsion Expulsion Expulsion…

Paloma SpencerLeave a comment

So I am currently listening to an abundance of voices discussing their opinions regarding our school’s interdisciplinary policies. In other words, expulsion.

Before I entered high school I had always believed that one must do an absolutely horrible crime in order to be expelled. A knife fight or a drunken rendezvous were the kinds of things that occupied my mind regarding this subject.

I could blame my middle school; it was small and thus expulsion or any other type of disciplinary action was rare. In addition, my own innocence allowed me to believe that the on-screen fighting seen in popular movies was only met by, at the most, suspension. And let me not forget my belief that drugs and alcohol were common in high school and were thus somehow accepted.

However, throughout my years in high school I have realized a lot regarding this subject. My ninth grade year I recognized how serious bullying is through a classmate’s expulsion after expressing harm towards a fellow peer. My tenth grade year I realized the significance of violence when I experienced a dangerous brawl between two seniors. I had understood why these people were expelled and completely sided with the schools in their decisions.

It wasn’t until my eleventh grade year that I did not quite agree with the disciplinary action at my high school, and truthfully believed expulsion was used as more of a strict ultimatum rather than an agreeable decision.

I go to a private independent boarding school and thus I understand that students are expected to properly follow specific guidelines or otherwise face consequences. I understand the arguments that the school is giving you an opportunity, that this is a privileged experience, and that each student has signed a contract. I believe that it is more than fair to kick someone out for drinking, drug use, violence, or cheating, especially in a school that is aiming to create a campus filled with intelligent and mature young adults.

Though as a second semester high school senior awaiting those lovely letters of college acceptance and rejection, I would like to bring one argument up for questioning.

“EXPULSION.” These words plastered upon ones college resume is, to state lightly, not a very good addition.

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Finally, my train is here

shredicusmaximus2 Comments

With the window to my next four years open and the endless possibility flows in like the rays of sun through a dark room, I ask myself, “what do I make of the previous three?”

Like many of my colleagues in their final year of high school, I too have had the fortune of anxiously tearing open a letter to read the words dedicated students wait to see since they began the process oh so many months before, “congratulations, you have been accepted.” At this moment, one may experience a leaping sensation in their heart as the rate increases.

Some may not be able to breathe or speak with excitement. The eyes may start to smart as tears of joy flow freely like persistent waterfalls and some may reveal a small grin while feeling their own sense of great emotion. Maybe you’ll jump maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll scream, maybe you’ll break into random song. Maybe you’ll hug the first person you see. For those of us in boarding school, the cell phone on your dresser drawer rings continuously for hours as family members and friends congratulate your impressive accomplishment. You try to take the moment in while at the same time you try to express yourself, and as you celebrate, you know that for the moment, the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.

Today I’m another one of those lucky people. I’m a person who an institution of great prestige said “yes” to. 14,000 other hopeful applicants completed the process with me and the fact that I made it makes it that much sweeter. Did I mention that it’s my #1?

I came back from the Honors Ski Trip in Yosemite National Park to find an email telling me of my good fortune. The email was from the University of San Francisco. I can yammer on and on and on about each and every detail of the process and the story behind it like I usually do but however, this is not my prerogative.

The significance of this to me is that the chapter of my life lingers as I am about to turn the page. It is the feeling that you get when you’re waiting in a train station you hear your train coming down the tracks, and you think to yourself, “could it be? finally, in this moment, MY train has arrived.” Now it seems that all I have to do is step on. It is a new beginning taking me to destinations not yet treaded and not yet known and not just to San Francisco.

Times like now only add the incentive for me to count down the days until we as a senior class commence under the hot sun of an early June day to accept our diplomas. Yet I can’t help but think back on the past three years and question them, reminisce on them, ponder them, and to contemplate my exact emotions. I can’t say that I approve of all that’s gone down since I came to OVS as a 15-year-old, but for now, I try to stay away from senioritis, keep the grades up, and think about all the future holds while trying to live in the present. Still, it’s hard to keep your head in the moment when your mind’s a million miles away, or in this case, just up the state.

Birthdays

yourgingerkid

Today is my birthday.

Birthdays are something we, as kids, cherish. It’s all about “growing up” and “being a big kid,” but when do we really stop and realize what we have? I’m finding that the older I get, the less excited I am for each birthday. Most kids my age are claiming that they’re excited to be 18, for freedom, and 21, for alcohol, but why? Does anyone stop and think that turning 18 is practically being thrown into a lion’s den from the comfy and less hostile world we’re used to? You have to pay for yourself, manage school work, and keep a social life. It’s already hard enough in high school to manage school work along with a social life. Even adults past age 27 or so wish they were younger. Here, in high school, and partially college, everything is set up for us, but when we hit the real world we’re on our own. I don’t want to grow up anymore.