The waves are calling to me

This won't be a long post, I just have three things to say, so I'll list them for you:

1. I am a senior. This gives me about three days off this week because underclassmen are taking state exams, which seniors don't take.
2. I am going to the beach tomorrow when my mother thinks I will be at school. I am nervous and pretty much melting into a complete mess on the inside of my brain. I can't even begin to think of what will happen if I am caught, but let's try not to get into that.
3. I just saw the movie Sex Drive, and despite its vulgar jokes and crude humor, it's made its way onto my favorite movies list.

That's pretty much it. Cross your fingers that I make it back alive tomorrow.

Cartels and Cadavers

I've been putting off writing about this, because it's so obviously a huge part of my life at the moment, and I just can't figure out how to put it in words. The fact is, there's a war going on right now. It's not overseas in Iran/Iraq/Afghanistan and it's not between the Canada VS United States Gold Medal hockey debate. This war is happening beneath your radar, and if you hadn't heard it from me now, you probably wouldn't hear of it until something insanely horrible happens.

I've lived in a border town all my life, and right up until now, I never really considered it anything remotely bad. I get to speak two languages fluently, thrive in the bold Latin culture, and eat Mexican food daily without worrying about its effect on my health. This past week brought out a whole lot of ugly from the other side of the border.

It all started with a gang. You see there used to be these big top head gang guys that would keep all the little gangs in check. They owned everything, and considered themselves the unofficial "police" of cities. But then the Mexican government stuck in their little foot and took all the big bad gang guys to jail, where they've stayed ever since. Things went pretty well after that. Drug trafficking was still going on, but it never affected any innocent citizens, just like it is here in the United States. Then the fight began.

See, all these little gangs realized that the big bad gang guys weren't around to keep them in check anymore, and they all scrambled to try and take the top spot. Around Tuesday or Wednesday this past week, there were gunshots and shootings, killing dozens of innocent bystanders in cities that I've gone to many times in my life. Drug cartels killed doctors that serviced in cities to keep any drugs under their watch, killed American citizens in the deeper end of border cities, and stole any vehicle that they deemed too high class for their region.

People that I know have gotten emails from people in Mexico pleading for help and many of my relatives over there are confined to their homes to escape getting killed. Passageway between major cities isn't attempted for fear to get ambushed by one of the two major gangs. My dad told me that there was a a truck-full of cadavers seen near a canal, just dumping the bodies in the water. There's no way to know for sure who is dead or not because none of the news are reporting it, not even local news around here.

The situation is bad, and almost everyone is terrified of going to Mexico right now. I doubt I'll be going anytime soon. On a good note, I hardly have school this week because underclassmen are testing. Boy, is it good to be a senior.

xoxo
Janet

Awesome: Overweight hedgehogs that eat dog food and run on a treadmill.

Saturday the 13th never happened.

I've honestly tried to write a blog about 10 times, and the only good thing that came out was the previous post with old photos. Saying that sounds annoyingly cliche', but it's true. So many things have happened lately, that I'm beginning to resent my whining of an absolutely boring life. Mostly, this weekend sort of threw me off. My well-executed plan for Saturday went extremely well, too good actually. I have no clue how I managed to get in my bed without my mother noticing that I was way beyond normal.

I suppose the worst part about that night is the fact that I can't remember most of what happened. There's different stories flying around, most of which include me puking twice, me falling off of a tower of brinks, sitting on a bench and suddenly realizing that I had lost my phone, which started me off in a full on freak out, and slapping several innocent bystanders. That night is a big black slate, with several occasions where the world decided to fade in and engrave into my memory, only to fade out into black again.

I'm just glad that there were no kissing of strangers or taking off of clothes involved. I've spent this entire week trying to remember with the rest of the people that were there, but all we have is a recording of a friend of mine screaming,"SENIOR YEAR!", and several more indistinguishable noises. I guess we can look back and laugh right now, but I still have a load of battle scars from the brick fall and a sore throat, probably from all the screaming.

Other than that, life has been pretty normal. My school's theater program is putting up our production of Bye Bye Birdie this week, and everything is pretty much chaotic as per usual. I'm only in the stage crew, so I'm not too stressed, but it's our first musical, and a lot of the actors aren't exactly musically talented. Let's all hope that goes well.

Did I mention that somebody from school stole my camera? And I was just about to grow the balls to finally make a youtube video. RIP Optimus Prime. You will be missed.

Momentary Immortality

I've realized that when I talk better when I have
nothing to talk about, which is an oxymoron in
itself. Last night I went out and got pretty
much WASTED. I figured I was going to have to
do it at least once in my life,so why not?
Hangover, and bored as hell on Valentine's Day.
Story of my life, huh?

Photos are from Dec. 21st 2009, at my
family's Christmas party.
1)little one 2)my glee tee 3)cazzy & little one

Bizarre Coincidence

It frustrates me that there is absolutely nothing happening to me that is worth even mentioning to anybody. I feel likes it's the same monotonous routine day after day: wake up, go to school, go home, 5 hours on the computer, shower, sleep. How doing so little can be so exhausting is beyond me. But of course, I've been using Blogger as a procrastination tool more than a writing-development tool lately. Let's be honest though, who doesn't? I have at least 3 applications that need to be finished by Friday and I just can't seem to bring myself to start. But enough talk about procrastination.

This afternoon, I was so deliriously bored on the internet that I decided to Google my username, turning up with some rather interesting results. The one link that excited me the most was my old blog that I kept for about a week last summer. Apparently, I was under the illusion that taking summer courses at a University would bring all sorts of exciting adventures. The strange part though, is that I actually LIKE some of what I wrote in those measly four entries:

"You spend your entire life preparing for something. You're born and they start preparing you to learn, you go to school they prepare you for high school, you go to high school they prepare you for college, you go to college they prepare you for a job, you go to work and they prepare you for retirement, you retire and you just sit back and realize that you didn't do crap. Honest to god, I do not want that fate, and I realize that there are people whose goal is just that: to live and let live, but I want to die laughing."

I mean what was I, some sort of life guru? I don't even remember writing half the stuff on that blog. That's not the best part though: at the end of one of the entries there was a section called the "Mental Tip of the Day":

"Mental Tip of the Day: Don't eat your sorrow away. Instead, watch a few good Youtube videos and pretend that internet celebrities are your personal friends."

I wasn't sure whether to be amused or scared, but that advice was just way too much of a coincidence. Did I mention that today was crap? Because it was. And so is this entry. Sorry about that.

Song: "Free Fallin'" by John Mayer
Awesome: Laying outside in the grass with the iPod on full volume to the Fratellis.
Notsome: 95% of my high school's population.

Double Entendre 101

It's time for an English lesson! According to Wikipedia, Double Entrendre means:

a figure of speech in which a spoken phrase is devised to be understood in either of two ways. Often the first meaning is straightforward, while the second meaning is less so: often inappropriate, or ironic.

I'd like to point out that my English class is a physical representation of a Double Entrendre. I don't mean in the normal English Figurative Language sense. Given that I am a senior in high school, and most of the kids in my Brit Lit class are at least 17 years old, not a day goes by that the class bursts in laughter because of some sentence with an underlying meaning.

Sometimes I honestly think that the world will never mature and, to be honest, I sort of like it.
Okay, I'm done writing boring posts. I think I'll be back to write something worth reading in an hour or so.

Current Song: "Wordplay" by Jason Mraz. THAT WASN'T EVEN PLANNED! I swear it just came on Pandora.
Awesome: Rainbow Cakes, and not the ones you're used to.
Notsome: Application Deadlines. Particularly when it interrupts previous plans, like drooling over photos of pastries.

The Last Lecture (HOSA Competition Book #1)

COMPETITION BOOK #1

Title: The Last Lecture
Author: Randy Pausch
Genre: Self-Help
Pages: 224
Publisher: Hyperion
Website: http://www.thelastlecture.com/aboutbk.htm

A lot of professors give talks titled “The Last Lecture.” Professors are asked to consider their demise and to ruminate on what matters most to them. And while they speak, audiences can’t help but mull the same question: What wisdom would we impart to the world if we knew it was our last chance? If we had to vanish tomorrow, what would we want as our legacy? When Randy Pausch, a computer science professor, was asked to give such a lecture, he didn’t have to imagine it as his last, since he had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. But the lecture he gave—“Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams”—wasn’t about dying. It was about the importance of overcoming obstacles, of enabling the dreams of others, of seizing every moment (because “time is all you have...and you may find one day that you have less than you think”). It was a summation of everything Randy had come to believe. It was about living.

Review:
Books for medical reading usually bore me to sleep, but as soon as I saw this on the self-help section and the unbelievable amount of copies shoved into the shelf, I knew it would be interesting. The book was apparently a best-seller, so there will probably be numerous other reviews of it. Bear in mind that I'm only doing this as part of my competition study routine, so it might not even make sense. Moving on:
I've always considered self-help books to be interesting, for the most part at least. I feel like the writers have experiences that gives them the credibility to promote self-change. Randy stood out to me as a normal human from the first sentence. For a man "sentenced" to death with pancreatic cancer, he sure has a healthy sense of humor. He regards to his diagnosis as an engineering problem, which (as horrible as it seems) was terribly amusing to me. Throughout the introduction, I remember thinking that the guy was extremely too happy to be dying in a few months. If it were me, I'd have to be on medication or something, but Randy seems...thrilled.
Of course, there IS that underlying sense of dread and sadness, but instead of regretting all the time he won't be alive, he spends looking back on what he's done. The section on fulfilling childhood dreams was definitely my favorite. In his lifetime, Randy was able to experience zero gravity, write an article for the World Book Encyclopedia, meet Captain Kirk, and become a Disney Imagineer. If that wasn't a fulfilling life, then I don't know what is.
The book was an eye opener for appreciating what we have now, and never taking anything for granted. Unlike most other books of its kind, Randy was able to convey this message without a hint of cheesyness. Not to mention that the book was a quick read. It's perfect for a nice long train ride or a quiet night with a warm coffee. And if you're not into reading (wait, why are you reading this then?) you can actually watch the video of Randy's Last Lecture he gave at Carnegie Mellon. You can find all the info at the book's website listed above.

Randy & his wife Jai with their three kids: Logan, Dylan, and Chloe.

Randy makes a 5 Sec. Cameo in the new Star Trek movie!

Randy Pausch died July 25th, 2008.

I'm Just Gonna Wing It

I've developed this sort of strange obsession with Blogger. I feel the need to type all the time, but when it comes right down to it, I just have nothing to talk about. This usually results in multiple hair pulling, food eating, and spending hours on Etsy looking at bags I can't afford. Then I realized that I never really made an introduction blog. Well, technically I did write one. I spend hours on it, only to look at the screen with an unsatisfactory frown and delete it from the blogosphere for eternity. So try not to laugh at my pitiful attempt, because I am horrible at introductions. Just ask my Communications teacher.

The one and only time I have been a medical patient at a hospital was on October 14, 1992, during which my parents decided to name me after the well known superstar Janet Jackson. I always thought the choice made no sense whatsoever, given that both my parents are from Mexican descent and dislike any form of retro-pop music. I suppose they could have just picked the name from a baby name book, but the first story just seems so much more exciting. That was about 17 years ago, when the world was beautiful and I could eat mushed bananas without getting stares from society. These days I attend a generic American high school with a generic school population, except maybe replacing Black Gangstas with Cholo Mexicans.* If I can make it through another 5(ish) months I'll be heading off to a University pretty close by and making do for a degree in Journalism (majoring in Communications, YIKES!). I have unparalleled man-obsessions (mansessions?), including: the man with sticky-uppy hair, the man with goat legs, the guy with a scar and his ginger friend, and the dweeb love hunk.

Favorite Color: Green
Favorite Food: Macaroni & Cheese, Ice Cream, or Burgers
Favorite Book: Paper Towns (so far)
Favorite Author: JOHN GREEN (nerdfighters!)
Favorite Quote: "Is this all real, or is it happening inside my head?" "Of course it's happening inside your head Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" (Dumbledore to Harry, Deathly Hallows)

Alright, that's all I can come up with. I warned you that it wouldn't be much. I guess now I'll just leave you with this weird blown up photo of me with my fabby camera Optimus Prime:

*not meant to be racist or offensive. Sorry if I did.

Awesome: Birth children from awesome people. Henry Green was born today, kids! We have a Nerdfighter baby! I think this calls for excessive happy dancing.
Notsome: Best friends getting angry for random and stupid reasons.

Currently Reading: Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story by Ben Carson. The second of my competition books. The story of a surgeon. Review for The Last Lecture coming soon!

The girl with the bright orange sweater.

Following the tradition carried down from my measly childhood, I'm about to rip off Hayley's blog. Ripping off other people's ideas seems to be a theme in these blogs, but I have an honest excuse. For one thing, my fingers have been dying to type and I have nothing to talk about, and secondly, I'm still sort of tipsy from last night, but that's another story. I should say straight out that I hate talking about my past. More specifically, my freshman year. Also known as: The Year of Denial. It's a sad process, thinking back on all the idiotic things that I've done, all the stupid thoughts that clouded my day. For the most part it's like watching a car crash. You really don't want to look, but you just can't stop staring.

14-Year-Old Me was a looped, full-screen car crash, complete with a bright neon orange fluffy jacket that fit way too snug to be considered comfortable. She would carry an eyeliner and apply it every day during school breakfast, only to smudge it off before the last bell so that Mother wouldn't find out. She would deliberately not wear glasses, despite the countless hours devoted to the bespectacled hero of my heart, and she most definitely did not consider a 38-year-old man with spiked hair even relatively sexy.

14-Year-Old Janet would have a hard time believing anything that Current Janet would say, like the fact that there will come a point in life where the world will know who Edward Cullen was and that I would come to hate him with every fiber of my body. I would make weird Potter references and relish at the confounded faces from the rest of the world. And yes, my prepubescent self would never come to turns with the fact that in a year or so, I would spend hours on the computer screen watching people talk into a camera, and consider those people actual idols. I would never believe that I would love any author more than I loved Rowling, much less that the author in question would be on the phone with me at one point (even if it was for only a few seconds).

My life has had so many unprecedented and completely marvelous turns, but it's not enough to make me happy. This might make me sound like a cold ungrateful person, but the truth of it is: I watch people on the internet who have no clue who I am. I'm a nobody, and until I make somebody out of myself, then I won't be happy. I want to produce brain crack that the world will be addicted to. I want to throw myself out there and see where I land, just to prove that I can.

When I grow up I want to be Hayley G. Hoover.*


*I realize that my blog makes no sense now. I have no clue how I ended up on this sentence, but like I said: my mind isn't all there right now.

Awesome: Call of Duty 2: Modern Warfare. Preferably on a swively chair, with a headset and drink in hand.
Currently Reading: The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. All reading has been put on hold to read the books required for my Medical Reading Competition the first week of February. Will post review on each one.

le Queen of Frozen Treats

When I was small, I saw a movie about two kids. The plot of the story escapes me now, but only one thing mattered to me at all. About halfway through the movie, they create the most delicious looking desert on the planet. So, being the wonderful idea-stealing child that I was, I came home from school one day and demanded to have some vanilla ice cream, a bag of non-nut M&Ms, chocolate Hershey's syrup, nuts, and fudge-striped cookies.

That evening I sat down in front of the television and ate my blend of fat-inducing snacks without a care in the world. I don't even recall paying attention to the moving pictures on the television. All my mental concentration was switched over to the ice cream and sugar in a cup concoction.

It must have been one year later or so, when I was out shopping with my aunt and uncle. They stopped at a local Dairy Queen* for a break and some ice cream. Imagine my surprise when I stepped in and realized that other people in the world ate ice cream with COOKIES and M&Ms just like I did. Instead of feeling excited and glad, I proceeded to become exceedingly angry. I was under the impression that all of this was my idea and they had stolen it. Apparently my little child brain had repressed the memory that I had stolen the idea from a movie, but that was besides the point. I swore from that day on to never eat a Dairy Queen Blizzard.

What's the point of this little anecdote? I am craving one of those Blizzards RIGHT NOW. And I will stop at nothing to get it! Not even the fact that it's winter. My kingdom for some ice cream!



*It's like a Burger King, but for ... dairy? They sell burgers, hot dogs, ice cream, and whatnot.

Awesome: BLIZZARDS! Did I mention that I haven't had one in quite a while? My favorite flavor is M&M. You know...just in case you were wondering...
Current Book: Re-reading 13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson. It just came into the library and I just had to take it.

Normality will be the death of me.

I've literally had this blog nagging at my head for the entire weekend. Well, I suppose THAT and the fact that I have to spend most of my precious time in a building packed to the brim with obnoxious teenagers and power-hungry teachers. I don't mean to sound like an annoying little downer with nothing but cynical thoughts in her head, but if the rest of the world made more effort into making itself presentable, then we wouldn't be in this situation.

As expected, the first day back brought the ineptitude of the school counselors along with it. My Journalism class* (that was supposed to be canceled), has now been moved to a portable on the other end of campus, with a permanent substitute who doesn't know a left leg about Journalism in the first place. I really do understand why our previous teacher quit his job, but I'd much rather be stuck in a Nutrition class than with a lousy teacher who doesn't know what she's doing. Not to mention how messed up my schedule is. No joke: I literally felt like going up to the Counseling Department, shoving the paper into their faces, and yelling like a madwoman. I have Sociology in the class where I was supposed to have a Sewing course, and I was put in Government AGAIN. Despite the countless times that I've waltzed myself into their office with a college transcript proving that I had already taken the course. Even the one class that I was looking forward to this semester went all bahoony on me: my British Literature course is no longer counting as a college credit class. I'll probably end up taking it as an AP course, but the frustration from all the hectic pile of rubbish just reached brink.

Aside from all of that mess, I experienced, for the first time in my life, the dreaded school cafeteria scene. You know the one. I spent most of the morning complaining about my classes to fellow counselor victims, and completely forgot about looking for somebody with the same lunch as me. The full front of the situation hit me right before I picked up my tray. Don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no problem sitting by myself. I'm an individualized person by nature, but sitting by yourself isn't usually an option in an over-crowded school. I must have stood there for a good 5 minutes before my friend Yermaine (who is now a ginger) found me with a much-relieved look on her face. No doubt she was in the same pickle I was in.

I'm so tired of highschool. But I honestly don't feel prepared for college. I mean, I'm almost finished with my Senior year and I don't know a SINGLE thing about driving.

I'm screwed.

Awesome: HOOVER IS BLOGGING AGAIN! 'nuff said.