The Perks of Being a Cuban.

I have to spend New Years Eve with about 20 strangers. My uncle's wife's family-- I say it that way because they're Puerto Rican and I'm not neither is my uncle. She's my godmother I'll call her that now that the bloodline has been established. Her family from Puerto Rico are coming to America for the new year. So I have to spend New Year's Eve with them. A bad night but up until a few hours ago I had no other option. My other uncle calls-- my moms brother-- and asks to spend New Year's with us like we used to when my cousin and I were growing up. I think last time we did that AJ wasn't even a year old. We had grown apart since then. Not really, but sort of. There wasnt much talking anymore, they moved a little further out into NY. (They were 30 minutes away versus an hour now). But they still spoke to my mom we would go over for AJs birthday and Brandi's birthday and other family stuff but not like we used to. There was a time when we were there every weekend. Once they got the new house for a while they never wanted to leave i because they loved it there so much. It's a beautiful quiet house. So he calls and asks to spnd New Year's Eve at our house. 1) I wouldn't have to get dressed and sit around with 20 people who won't talk to me because I'm 17. 2) I love my family and I love that theyre making an effort to start again. I have so much fun when I'm with them. It's such a shame that I'm stuck in San Juan when I could be at home with familiar people who actually know and care about me. My parents are pissed off too. Shitty way to start a year I've been awaiting since the 8th grade.

I marvel at my inability to accept that I make mistakes. I mess up a lot but will never ever admit to doing so. I'm too hardheaded. I fear that as I grow so will by stubbornness and it will fester into a complete shunning of all people who cannot agree with me. I don't want to surround myself with yesers but I also cannot deal with people who don't listen to me when I talk. Though some may think I am quiet, they would beshocked at the number of words I have in my brain just clamoring to spill out of my mouth. I have an opinion oneverything and it bothers when people have opinions drastically different from my own. Bothers me even more when someone just like me tries to argue his or her own opinion and does not do it well enough.

I am still fearful about my future. I need to grow and mature and accept that people will not mold themselves based onhow I would like them to be. Not everyone can be like me, eventhough I understand that I am not that great and do see many of my huge flaws. It's the flaws I see in others that I do not have that I try to make them get rid of. I need to realize that every individual my age is still slowly growing into themselves and hesitantly figuring out who they will be for the rest of their lives. I fear, also, that I am already so set in my ways that I will never allow myself to evolve as my peers are doing. I need to examine my own psychebefore i examine other peoples'-- an examination that is usually unwanted and very unnecessary.

This post is more about La Tortura than reggaeton, but the following holds true for it too... in a sense. I'll be the first to admit that I hate reggaeton and hate that it's American's only taste of Latin muysic and it is what they think we listen to exclusively. While that is not the case I'm enjoying America's tolerance towards a new genre of music so drastically different from what Top 40 has played for decades. Shakira said it best in her acceptance speech at the Billboard awards. People are putting race and language aside and focusing on the fact that MUSIC is MUSIC no matter than language it is sung in. That really means a lot to me as that tolerance for music can only grow and grow. Hopefully one day songs in spanish will be as popular and equally requested/ wanted as songs in english. A spanglish station!!! It meant a lot to me that a bunch of gringos embraced La Tortura. Even more that many of them tried to learn the words just by sounds! Some looked for translations! It gets me excited that at step one they enjoyed the music, and step 2 they wanted to enjoy the song as a whole. I love that.

I'm not sure why I'm postingright now. Perhaps because there's nothing better to do on a quiet free period that nobody has. I'm thinking about what Ms Garcia said today about Cuba and about the school of the Americas. The school, while it does do military training is not fully responsible for the corruptness of many of its alumni. Evil and mallice is part of your configuration at birth. It is there and fostered by the parents. Fidel Castro, who is the worst and most unethical and evil human being in the universe, actually went to a JESUIT high school. I go to a Jesuit high school and Jesuit teaching is completely about bettering the problems with humanity. The Jesuits are a good people and they were not blamed for Fidel's evil ways. He was born that way and if anyone to blame it is his parents. A school is a school. Evil is simply human nature.

Short answer- no. I am not. Should I be? Am I too much of a pushover? Do people take advantaee of my kindness? Do I allow myself to be stifled too often? These are all questions I haven't answered yet. Questions that I do not think i CAN answer. But a very wise person told me I should be meaner. Does meanness go hand in hand with respect? I need to figure out what I want to do with myself. I don't want to be mean, I'm too cute to be mean :). But I do not want to be nice either. So from now on, I'm going to be mean to those who deserve it.

That's the first thing Ms Garcia taught me. Do not be anyone other than who you want people to say that you are. Be yourself completely. How do people see me? If they could use one word to describe me, some would say funny, others would say sarcastic, but others would say that I am quiet. It's all about how we act and react in situations and settings. In the cafeteria I am goofy, loud and funny. It's a loyud room so to be funny in there you have to be over the top. In the Pub Room, I am sarcastic, facial expressions alone can get me a laugh in there. In the foyer, with Dan in the mornings, I'm mean, snarky, awesome! Also in the Foyer however I'm polte and say good morning to teachers who pass who I may not like very much. "Hey Mr Lagerstrom. Hi Ms Codey how are you?" In religion class I never shut up, not to McCarthy I never listen, I just sit with 2 or 3 people who talk a lot and I'm one of them. I never get yelled at though... they do. Hmm! In Spanish class, I am polite, sweet, and funny, I speak when everyone else is or when spoken to. I make sure to make the right facial exressions when someone makes fun of Cuba. In writing class I'm quiet, really trying to learn, seriously. It's importantto me to become better at what I like to do. I don't see myself as a writer yet. Another thing Ms Garcia taught me was to visualize myself fulfilling my destiny. "Convince yourself that you already ARE who you want to BECOME." (i am a writer i am a writer i am a writer). In Histry Im quiet, asleep with my eyes open. In Steinbeck Im quiet, trying not to wet myself, what a scary man. He was SO NICE today though! Woo Wee!
Ms Garcia has done so much for me. She's helped me in every way she's tried to. None of her other students take her inspirational talks to heart, I do. And today when the senior survey asked me to describe myself in one word, I wrote what I UNDOUBTEDLY am in every class. Cuban.

I wrote this to release some tension. I'm in a bad mood and this is about helping myself find my own way when the person you've always depended on lets you down.


My Way Home
Time Time, be my friend
With me till my bitter end oh time
You’re all I’ve got right now

Rom Room gimme some room
Gimme some truth, some space
Some love some time to heal my open wounds

Faith Faith I gotta have faith
Lord shelter me when no one will be
There, there to protect me

Love Love I must find some love
To be my solace in a world
Of abandonment and forgotten promises

Rain Rain wash me away
Take away the pain of today
And I pray, that flowers grow through the cracked pavement

Find Find find me tonight
Amidst all of my pain my strife
Hide me away and take me away from ths place

New New I need some place new
A warmer place to hang my hat
And finally feel important.

Melody Melody wrap yourself around me
Formulate my reverie
Be with me and help me create my destiny

Destiny Destiny surprise me
Changing unexpectedly
Move too fast; help me find my way home.

I truly feel that the only thing that keeps me going this week is knowing that there will be a new O.C. this Thursday. I'm sleepy. Too sleepy. There are huge bags under my eyes and my eyes droop. I need sleep, and I just can't let myself. I'd want nothing more than to just fall asleep at830. That would give me a good nine hours. Heaven. I can't do it though. I've tried, and usually wake up around 230. My body thinks it's napping if I go to bed t hat early.
I'm very paranoid about what I write. I think my writing should be an extension of myself and it should be a fair representation of who I am. Therefore I should strive to write in a way that makes me proud of myself. Even for yearbook, I should always strive for perfection. I'm too much of a perfectionist. I make drafts when I'm writing yearbook articles. I draft more than Ms Eaton wants me to in creative writing. I rewrite and revise every day until it is due. I'm psychotic, too psychotic? It's not a bad thing. My perfectionistic tendencies have always seemed to result in something good, whether it is high praise or a high grade. My paranoid quirkiness usually ends up being good, even though I break my back in the process. Maybe it's too much, but it never hurts to aim towards being perfect. I'll stop when I have a breakdown like Mariah circa 2002.

I've never blogged in school before. It's nice. Kind of weird, but a good way to start the morning. I'm very tired and very cranky. Bad coffee gets me sick, and I had it yesterday. My stomach is still wonky an gurgly. So I had tea this morning, which pisses me off ecause it's tea! I know that I am getting a cold, my throat hurts and is pleghmy and my nose is all stuffy and drippy. Hopefully, though, I will get a few days off, as i REALLY need a few days to just relax, in my warm bed and watch DVDs.
It is 39 degrees outside and about the same throughout the school. Heat does not get turned on in October. The only person who makes sense in this school is the computer-lady. She has her own AC and her own heat, which is now on. It's warm in here, and she's now in the leagues of Ms Wortman and Ms Eaton because of it.

I deleted that by mistake.


After staying awake until past 2 AM and just now getting ready for bed I asked myself " Is it Friday?" If it's not I have to wake up in 4 hours. It is hard to keep track of days when you have 2 days off smack in the middle of the week. Throws you off.

Book of Ralph is getting bad. I liked the 1978 part, whih was the majority of the novel. I even liked the past (1975). But now that McNally has transported Hank and Ralph into 2001 it's getting very boring. Hank is pretty emo, even at 33. What bothers me most is the fact that Hank and RAlph do not seem to have matured after 21 years of time. Ralph still calls him Hankaroo and bub. Hank is caught up in his own mellowdrama, understandably so. I would be upset too if my wife left me. And even more if my new girlfriend had as unfortunate a nivknme as Janet the Planet. The year (2001) just seems forced. The fact that Ralph likes to play around on ebay doesn't seem authentic enough. Maybe John Mcnnally did not feel like writing. He should learn that us wonderfully gifted authors stop writing when we are trying to force our brilliant minds to be creative.

Long time no type. I'm sorry I've neglected you. But you're probably busy with the overflow of new members since myspace stopped being cool. It's still cool? I don't think so. So I'm gonna type to you instead of spy on people I don't like from school.School has been uneventful, outside of the obvious class it has not been anything special in the positive or negative sense. I think we should draw plants and only plants in art. Everyone was watching me draw, I hate being the center of attention but I sucked a few weeks ago, so this is goooood! It was awesome. Ms Klim even said it was "nice" instead of asking me what I thought. hahaha. The key to creative writing is finding a story that you care about and feel needs to be told. There are some writers who can just write about anything and anyone like John Steinbeck. I've yet to see the beauty of his writing. Why couldn't there be a Gatsby and Catcher class. That's it. Just a semester on each. Writing papers about the books. Dream class. Although I wouldn't mind taking American lit all over again. Or British lit. I love Sonnets in British lit and I loved the books in American lit. So just combine the 2 call it British American literature and voila. I found out the Juniors do not have to do Jane Eyre this year. Lucky bastards, I hated that bitch. Jane Eyre. I loved writing about her though. Feminism is such a fun subject to write about. Too bad guys are not allowed in feminism classes in college I'd have so much fun just writing and writing. I was watching a documentary on what I thought was women's lib. It was about the 60s so I turned it off when it got to Nixon. Which segways into History. A class I'm surprisingly doing very well in. The subject matter isn't interesting, but I take good notes. I cannot wait until we start talking about Cuba. He better not say anything bad about Cuba, or Ms Garcia and I will tag-team him. Spanish is hilarious. I'm the only person who likes her and she likes back. The Perks of Being a Cuban. By Stephen Chbosky. Robert

I love when little things make up for alll the bad stuff. I feel al sleepy and sick of school and then tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I am magically reminded how awesommmmme life is when STUFF LIKE THIS HAPPENS!!!! IM IN A GOOD MOOD AGAIN!!!!! YES

And it hasn't even begun. I'm sick, I feel listless and have a headache and I just feel all around icky. It feels like the beginnings of a cold. And it's all psychosomatic I'm sure. School, while some of it may be fun, is still school and with it comes all this stress and pressure that I realy do not like to deal with. I'm a much moodier peron once school begins and thats why for the past few days I've been either really edgy or overly nice due to lack of sleep or too much sleep. I've been sleeping weird hours, yesterday I fell asleep at 10 wok eup at 4. The other day I went to sleep at 8 woke up at 1 AM, and went to sleep at about 12 that night. The weird hours have eithercaughten up to me, orrr my body's just dreading going back to school. I'msleepyand it's only 11. Thats not normal for me. I'm sick and grumpy and I'll get over it by next week or so once I'm back in the rhythm of school. I hope the Rhythm gets me quick, this sucks.

Evreryone sing along "Well the names have all changed since you hung around, But those dreams have remained and they're turned around." I want to welcome myself back to blogging. I know I didn't post much, but how can you find something to post about every day when all you do is sit around and gain weight? But starting school means stressful posts at 10 PM written out of frustration and created as an avoidance to studying. Although Idon't think I'll bedoing much studying this year, except for History. School this year is a pretty exciting thing. By this time next year my life and my location will be drastically different which is a very exciting and scary thing. Good scary. But Im really not lookingforward to the school part of school, its too much work too much stress I like being home I hate being home late. I need alone time and i Know i will not be getting much alone time anymore.

I didn't know water had an expiration date! My water expires July 15 2007. good to know

Dear blog,
I haven't tired of you. Be flattered as I have given up on so many blogs. Maybe I like you so much because I can be completely honest, completely myself, and no one reads you. No one really knows about you, except 2 people. I've been blogging since february when I discovered the word "blogging". The verb for each online journal is different- "xangaed" on xanga and simple "posted" on LJ or GJ. I have a GJ too-- don't be jealous dear blog as it is simply a graphic journal-- which doesn't get the respect it deserves. So you are still my favorite blog I love you blogspot and take my pants off for you!

I like the feeling I get as I write on my blog. The cathartic release of ANYTHING that may be bothering me or anything that may be delighting me. It's anonymous and no one will ever see it except those 2 I mentioned earlier. It feels good to get it all out online and just have it all sitting here in a very neatly designed blog. It's hot and I do NOT want to go outside (until Tuesday when I have to get Mambo Kings) so blogging is a very nice alternative to sweating.

Assuming you are a female, I'd like to marry you blogspot. You have a manly name so we can still be friends. I saw a guy dressed like a woman today at Bed Bath and Beyond ( i didnt want to go out but had to). He She It wasnt a good one. HeSheIt had hairy legs Huge hands and dressed like a Mexican whore. One of my 2 readers future no doubt

It seems as though when everything is just going normally in my life I have nothing to blog about. But I miss blogging and feel bda that I had given it up for a while as my readers are very important to me. Well one of them is at least.

I was eating a twinkie and thoght of the unimportant reader. Be flattered that you are at least still in my thoughts albeit as a snack food that represents asians who are whiter than a Faith Hill concert. I never really got into the twinkie (snack not asian). It was alright and I ate it from time to time but it was bever a big thing for me like some people make it out to be. Yes it was sweet, but the texture of the "bread" always weirded me out. It always tasted stale and was sort of unappealing.

My obsession for Hawai'i grows. I want to teach myself hawaiian, which I believe is more practical than teaching myself a conventional language like Italian or French. I don't really understand what it was that attracted me to Hawaiian music culture and traditions but everything I see of the island and its people is fascinating. Up until a few weeks ago I though the most proud people in the world were the Cubans. But Hawaiians can be defined almost the same way Diego Luna defined Cubans (the ones here can't wait to go back and the ones there never want to leave). I haven't spoken to many hawaiians first hand but it seems like the ones on the mainland can't stop talking about the island and the ones on the island will have severe withdrawal if they love their homely paradise for too long. If I didnt hate the heat I know Hawai'i would be where I'd want to live the rest of my life. Spam aside I can learn to love it.

I was inspired by the greatest songwriter in the history of Twinkie song writers, Dan . So i decided to try my hand at actually putting down one of the songs in my head onto paper. Most of them are in Spanish. Here's an English one. I really hope Dan likes him as I am only an amateur and he dear reacer is a professional. Really moving stuff too.

This song is a big kiss my ass song. Think Walk Away by Kelly Clarkson its got short lines and its sort of coppy with a kind of guitar influenced beat.

When you’re gone- July 26 12:20 AM
Face reality
Go on without me
Did you think you had a chance?

Polar opposites
Black and white
Not quite the makings for a great romance

Its kind of creepy Kind of eerie
To watch you obsess over me
I know I’m great you don’t have to say it repeatedly

Why don’t you just find someone new?
Someone who actually cares for you
Someone who won’t ignore you like I do
I know its hard to get over me
But I’ll be so damn happy
When you’re gone
When you’re gone

See you everywhere
See you stop and stare
Whenever I walk by you

You’re not invisible
I know just what’s going on
I know just what seeing me does to you

Its kind of creepy Kind of eerie
To watch you obsess over me
I know I’m great you don’t have to say it repeatedly

Why don’t you just find someone new?
Someone who actually cares for you
Someone who won’t ignore you like I do
I know its hard to get over me
But I’ll be so damn happy
When you’re gone
When you’re gone

Tell me once tell me twice
That you think I’m still so nice
I’ll be polite when you nervously say hello

I’m forced to go if you stay
I’ll still ignore the things you say
And let you sit alone and wallow
Just wallow

Why don’t you just find someone new?
Someone who actually cares for you
Someone who won’t ignore you like I do
I know its hard to get over me
But I’ll be so damn happy
When you’re gone
When you’re gone

My weekend will be spent with my sister's student, Sam. He is 5 and a half and has autism. He cannot speak either. I'm nervous not because of his disability but because I wouldn't have the slightest clue what to do with him. I'm looking forward to the new experience as I probably will learn alot about exacrtly hw a mind on autism works. Autism is a very isolating disability and is often described as "being trapped in your own world" almost like you're on a deserted island with no way to comunicate with the world. People with autism are often very smart but have difficulty getting their intelligence across in a sophisticated and effective manner. THink rainman. Im fixing to learn a lot and experience new experiences. I'm sure I'll blog about it, as I usually blog when new things I've never seen or felt befor occur.

tata
for now

hehehehehe

Im taking care of a dog. Im not a big dog person, even though Casey is very cute. This is my first day with her and I'm really not sure what to do with her. Oh well

I like to sleep. But I usually feel like so much time is wasted after I wake up. I try to wake up by 9 AM because I like having a morning, an afternoon, and a night even though I go to bed at around 4 AM. Now my eyes are getting heavy and I feel very sleepy/goofy/lethargic. Its hard to describe in engliish, i always say that I feel like "no tengo animo." I wonder what would happen if I napped now?

I'm watching 7th Heaven out of boredom, and it's putting me to sleep even more. The writing is horrible and the maajority of the episode has been dubbed so the words are a bit off due to poor postproduction. It's a very bad show. Luckily its been 23 minutes in an they still have not mentioned their overzealous religious attitude. Again-- I'm a Catholic but hate people who wear it on their sleeve. Can't stress that enough

I was teriffied as my father called me downstairs to look at my report card. My hands and legs were shaking. For the past few weeks since exams began I had been setting myself up for the worst possible scenario and had set myself up in my mind as a St Peters Prep flunk-out.
I meet him downstairs with a wary nervous grin to his ear to ear smile. I knew everything was alright. My heart still beating fast I take that piece of paper in y hands and see the beautiful 72 next to chemistry. I want to marry Mr Lagerstrom, that wonderful man passed me!

The days are beginning to string together in a seemingly endless pattern of sitting, eating, and watching terrible shows on MTV. Summer truly is a very boring thing. Even reading has become too difficult, as it is so much easier to sit and play Gold Miner. I need something to do. Something that will occupy my time and make me less of a slothy lazy pile of Cuban skin and bones. Perhaps I'll begin writing. That way I will be more comfortable come Creative writing time. I've always wanted to write but I still am at a loss as to what to write about. I've got interests and ideas in my head that, when formulated properly, could turn out to be wonderful stories. But I've never had the focus to do it , and do it properly. I even have an idea of a teenager who spends the whole short story talking about the difficulties of writing a short story. Ah! Irony! These many ideas sound great, hilarious, moving, poignant, and engaging in my head, however all those feelings as of yet have not transcended onto paper. Help me !

I haven't slept. Didn't I say that summer was sleep time? nah. I like having 4 hours of sleep a day and walking around zombified and hazy. I get so goofy without sleep, its so much fun! Hmm. I'm goofy!

This summer, I suspect will be spent reading and watching DVDs, as TV will be in reruns. A Confederacy of Dunces, Finding Manana, On the Road.... I need more books. Any suggestions? Dan, don't give me any crappy suggestions like that bad book with the dog. Karrie, no British lit, except if its like Sir Gawain

School is finally over for the year and I couln't be happier about this lon ganticipated break! I'm finally done! done done done!!!!!!
What kind of idiot goes to school 2 days after school is over with? The idiot who is in yearbook- haha. Today was lots of fun, and I actually did work! haha

Now, to break the chain of the usual posting style. I'll keep this short and say that I'm making a new Mix CD with a bunch of singers from Janis Joplin to Aretha to ACDC its really fun

Good God, thisis a boring course. I may fal asleep during my exam. The Catholic Church is bo-ring!

Today was a mixed up day. Start the day with some tea, like always. Then off to Chem exam. I don't eat breakfast during school.. too early, once in a while I may have fruit. But tpday, I just had tea. Off topic. The exam was.... fair. Not as bad as I had built it up in my head, but obviously the grade will not be as sparkling as my English grade. Then Dan Julian and I walked around as some kid drooling on my shoulder followed. I believe his name was Dan as well. Dan Julian and I had a good time just making fun of drool boy. Before that we walked around school and got Ms Wortman to sign my yearbook. Then we went to Green Cow and Mr. Julian ate my entire Panini, thanks a lot. Theres still a piece in the fridge Ill eat later on. I made a fool of myself at Babo, the new Bubble Tea/smoothie/Cafe place, as I sang along to Kelly Clarkson's Behind these Hazel Eyes. I'm sorry, but she is not a guilty pleasure. Gilmore Girls is.

Now, I blog because I just canbnot focus on how unexcting this stuff is to read aout. Writing about it is fine. Reading it is not.

SAVE ME !!!! DISTRACT ME! NotoriousROB23 ... just IM meee ahahaahaha

this is just a reminder to myselfto writre about frida replacing eteral sunshine as best movie

Well, exams are fastly appraching their end. This is a very exciting thing, even though my next exam is Chemistry. I've sid repeatedly that Chemistry is my most difficult subject, so I won't go into it right now. It's on Monday, pray to whichever god of yours is listening. After that is REligion, which, because he gave us every question (all there is is memorizing notes and I take immaculate notes) should be a great wind-don after the stressful Chemistry shit-exam.

For the summer, I will be stuck at home, as there is so money. All of it wsas spent on Spain last year. Ms Garcia's crazy but it was well-worth the money as I had an incredible time. Kind of a big fall-backwards.... Madrid---> Jersey. hmm not that same. But oh well, I'll do some local stuff or whatever. Just relax, since this year was such a stressful restless one. I just didn't get enough sleep, especially during exams. Right now, I'm physically drained. Does eating fruit give you energy? I had some Rainer cherries, they were good. I have some cantalope, melon and mango too that I'll eat.

I try my best to stay positive. I try my best to not spiral into that teenaged angsty depression I so desperately do not want to emulate. But finals are annoying, inevitable, but annoying nonetheless. History-- multiple choice was horiffic. Algebra-- those long answer questions kicked my ass, they were impossible, however thank you Mister Muir for considering that I have an incompetent algebra teacher and making most of the test doable. But, dear reader(not you dan, the reader that I actually enjoy talking to) you may have noticed my extreme paranoia. This doesnt not end at the eerie feeling that Ms Eaton and Ms Wortman read my blog, but also in feeling as though I somehow screwed up in these 2 classes. I'm so scared. Ihope I don't fail out, as I do not want to go through the getting back in process again. Back then, I had nothing going for me. I wasn't a good writer even. None of my classes even got near the 80s, except Religion which I ended with a 90. But, now, I'm not stupid. I have strengths and weaknesses. It's just so tough to concentrate on doing well in such dry subjects. I love English, as writing, even just writing an analytical paper, is one of the few things we get to express ourselves with in our school. Essay writing, structured as it may be, allows for a semblance of color to shine through the black and white of a uniformed catholic school. I love Religion. I love being ableto discuss my faith, while still discussing or arguing the importance or over importance of the Catholic Church on society. My faith in a spiritual sense is very important to me. My faith in an institutional sense is not. I loveSpanis. AS crazy as my teacher may be, I enjoy learning and reading about influential Hispanic authors. I love learning about my heritage, I'm Cuban, dear reader. I love reading about Cuba from Jose Marti. His imagery of even a simple palm tree swaying in the breeze along with many other powerful images create a quintessential picture of a prerevolution Cuba. A Cuba that still smelled of sugarcane and people still danced in the street, not because it was a cool thing to do, but because they were allowed to. Ihate Science. It's too dry, too boring. TOO DIFFICULT! It does not compute into my brain, as my brain has been formed into an artsy analytical one. This is the same reason I do not do well with maths. I know for a fact that I will never ever use math, as journalists, English teachers, and Spanish teachers do not use advanced algebra. Algebra is just, empty to me. It's useless, and because I know that, it makes it all the more difficult to concentrate on the math. I hate history. Its not a difficult class, its just so useless and boring. How exciting can a few hundred dead guys be? Not very. I just hope these exams turn out well, I'm paranoid, with reason. As i have realized the uselessness of the subjects I hate.

Teenagers often thake themselves too seriously. Their problems are the worst in the world. Ther life is a tragic kindom of pain and suffering. Their middle name is angst.
I don't do that. I don't think I can. I think I'm far too much a realist to ever succumb to the mental shutdown and isolation that is a teenager's supposedly dramatic life. My life doesn't suck. I'm cheerfully content with my place in the universe and eagerly await the future, but am not desperate for a better tomorrow. With life comes the ups, the downs, and the in-betweens. Life brings you to that point of euphoria and then brings you all the way down to such a bluthering idiot you cry at Carrie Underwood winning American Idol. and sometimes, life is just there, passing you by, nothing good happens, nothing bad hapens, it just ... happens. And I'm content with the "just-happenings" of life. I see no reason to force life to bring me up. Nor do i avoid the downward journey, as it is inevitable and will better itself.
People take themselves too seriously. I realize that more and more everyday as I notice the torture some people put themselves through over stupid teenage bullshit. You're 16, 17, whatever. It's not the end of the world. In fact, its the beginning. Realize the uselessness of the day to day tragedy, ad learn to find the inner nerd in yourself. Fall down to make someone laugh. Do an impression of a funny teacher. Be outspoken. Be everything you envy. Create your own destiny. Guide your own way.
I use empty cilches because, as shitty as they may sound they're true. At this age, we now form ourselves for the future. Who do I want to be? I know now that I do not want to be a chemist, mathematician, or Historian. Thats the kind of stuf I think about. Why torture yourself with the empty negatives that will eventually pass when you can surround yourself with the positives?
Why did I write this? It's so cliche. It sounds like a graduation speech and it started as an observation. It is so not written well, cliches and the like. Ms Wortman would give me a 78, at most. I wrote this, because I was bored. I was thinking about what happened tonight and realized tehe pettiness of it all, and how I wasted an hour of my day. And i noticed that it was just a stupid silly waste of time. Again, taken too seriously.
What is emo. A bunch of mellowdramatic kids dressed in black. What's funny is they complain about life while most of thee kids are rich kids raised in the classiest of class that is suburbia. It's hilarious. "No one loves me blah blah blah"... Thats because mommy and daddy are off buying you another car. LIFE DOESNT SUCK!
I think Im writing this inspirational post (its supposed to be inspirational, read closer!) because i read one of my favorite books again, and aain, and again after watching Sesame Street this morning. Oh the Places you'll go by Doctor Seuss. Life is full of change, constantly moving. You learn something new every day. You grow change and evolve every day. KID YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!!! Thanks for the book Ms Eaton, I don't know why I'm paranoid enough to think you read this.

This post maybe all over the place. You don't have to read, but if I don't get all f this outon "paper" my brain will explode faster than if someone were to tell a jock that they have π JUGs (credit: Spivak [not sure how to spell it, don't really care to know either].)

I don't like dealing with people whose main agenda is to start drama and bicker and cause every single person who crosses their path to havea CRAPPY day. I don't really want to mention who, as this person does in fact have a way with finding outt crap and I really do not feel like getting bitten in the ass today. Honestly tell me, do I seem like the type of person who hangs up on someone when the conversation isn't going my way? Nope. If you knew me at all you'd know that I like to talk things out until the conversation does in fact finish in my favor. But you don't know me, at all, because you haven't even tried to ge to know me. As Robert, you've known me for 16 years, but what about Robert as a person, Rob. The sarcastic kid who does almost anything for a laugh around his good friends, the Rob who can win any argument no matter how smart the person with his sarcastic comebacks alone. Did you know I was sarcastic? I didn't think you did. You've never been there, and you always think you've beeen, but you haven't. Graduation wasn't a big deal for me, you were there, OK? Fine. What about my Emmaus homecoming. Even though I didn't have one, I knew you were "too busy"(again) to even go. My ring ceremony, another xcuse. Granted I didn't really want the ring, but mygodmother my uncle and my parents were there. Why weren't you? Why have we never had a conversation, as equals? Why have you always imagined yourself on a pedestal, above me, scolding me, like a parent to its child and not like what we actually are. I wish you knew your brother better than he knows himself. But if you refuse to then it doesn't really matter does it?

They made Miss Eaton cry today, twice in one eternally long 28 minute class. IT seemed like an hour, I couldn't believe what I was watching. She was so vulnerable, so broken. Like all of her dreams of being the perfect teacher were crushed by a few assholes who simply do not care about anyone or anything. They think they're "the shit" and will do anything to prove that they are. Watching her cry they probably weren't sorry, or remourseful, they probably felt accomplishment. Lord knows they've never felt that in her class before, since they've accomplished nothing else. It was horryfying to see her reach that point and see her run out into the hallway. Ho wcould anyone do that to a teacher? On teachers appreciation week? And to sucha dedicated teacher too. How many teachers make themselves available for assistance every night until 11:30 or later? How many teachers are willing to sit with you foras long as it takes to make sure you understand exactly how to write a good paper? Not many. And to watch all of her hard work go down the drain in 28 minutes was horibble. Why do I still want to be a teacher?

I feel as though people who shouldn't be reading my blog are. Paranoid I know. But if it's true, shout out to my english teachers of this year and last year.
I'm having one of those hell-like weeks that make you anticipate the weekend even more than usual. Quizzes pretty much every day this week, tests too. The only class that's not eating my ass is English. Yeah, I'm sort of back to liking English class. I'm exhausted(woohoo) and have allergies. What's great is allergies haven't hit me hard yet, but I do have the allegry headache.
Prep Day. I wanted to go to Ashes and Snowwwwww! Not because of the obvious reason either! Geoffrey Colbert ( is that him?) IS REALLY INCREDIBLE! His photographs are amazing (amazeen in OC lingo). But alas, Muir has saved me a spot on his.... he's not artsy :( and he's not the best english teacher in the universe.... NOT THE SAME :'(

Khaki is crappy


I'm going to make my own pants out of random fabrics... and hemp, because its spring. I'm thinking of also being creative and making pants out of paperclips and postits.... call them Office-Desk Pants. Why am I making my own pants? BECAUSE IT'S SPRING!

Tomorrow shall royally suck. I must sit there for about 2 hours and listen to some dude cry about the dangers of sex and drugs in hopes of reforming the nymphos and cokeheads of my school. Why I have to go, I know not :) haha. I'm a good boy who's never even gotten near any sort of drug, as Dare actually worked on me! That video of the black kid who norted coke and then keeled over and died in his living room 25 minutes later was CHILLING! There should be drugtesting before they make the goood kids sit through tehe pointless crap. We're out of school BY ELEVEN! THATS SO POINTLESS! Its a 2 1/2 hour day, and yet I still have to wake at 6 and be in school by 7, making it a 4 hour day, of uselessness. Freshman get to go to art museums, like the Whitney. Muir's going to El Museo....? I like the Whitney, I went freshman year with Ms Wortman and Ms Hellstrom, who commented later in the day on how brilliant my isight on the symbolism of the art was.... I miss that kooky Wisconsinite. People hated her, but how on earth can you hate someone who thinks you're BRILLIANT! I loved her!!!! hahahaha Sophomores get to go on retreat. Sophomore retreat was kind of better than VFreshman retreat, but not by much. It was sort of boring, I remember forgetting my oneonone partner's name and asking him when it was my turn to talk about him. Ms Dewitt found it very funny, as did I. I could have asked him to tell me during someone else's reflection, but it was much funnier this way.

What ever happened to the simple easy-going life I once led? I remember a time when I would sit back, relax, and watch the abundance of remarkable things come to ME instead of me seeking good fortune for myself. Life cannot be this simple forever, as I am now bitterly beginning to notice. I am no longer 12 and lucky, I am slowly becoming more realistic, more pessimistic. The once half full glass is quickly becoming half empty.
You may be wondering why I use so many vague descriptions. School has become a chore, an obstacle. I'm currently drowning in a sea of moles, Molars, and other Chemistry-related things I simply cannot hold in my mind. I do not have a scientific brain, I do not have a mathematical brain. I like the vague, the open to discussion. I like being analytical. I like to create my own conclusions and do not like to be told what is definitively right. Math is too dry for me to enjoy myself with. Not to mention my complete lack of a competent math teacher. I miss that old flamboyant little bugger, and am forced to settle with a sad lonely 57 year old woman who still lives with her mother. She teaches more physics and chemistry than algebra.
To tell you the truth, I must begrudgingly admit that I am not even enjoying English class anymore. Jane Eyre is perhaps, the worst book I've ever been forced to read. Why can't we at least reach the modern British era, with the sarcastically humorous writing seen on PBS' British TV shows? I am too unattached to Jane Eyre. After experiencing a magical year of incredible books such as the Great Gatsby, CATCHER IN THE RYE, the Crucible, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and the Good People of new York ( not to mention amazingly written short stories like The No Guitar Blues and Teenaged Wasteland) it is sort of hard to revert back to the unrelateable writing of the 1700s (? 1700s? no clue).
I can't take school, and I wish it were as easy as it was back then. Back when I was "master of my domain" in the nonperverted way. I was outgoing and spent every waking moment living to make others laugh. Priorities have shifted and THAT now occurs outside of classes. I'm a well behaved, quiet boy who REFUSES to give a teacher a reason not to like him. I'm far too polite to people I'm not too close to. If more people saw the edge that I actually do have, I don't think it would be received well. Unless you actually have a physical attraction towards a me rainbowbritelalalalalala you would NOT put up with my asssholeyness, unless you can dish it out yourself; which I in fact respect VERY much. Anyone willing to match wits with this asshole is a hero in my eyes.
I sort of want to talk about religion. I think, I'm getting more Catholic, in the spiritual sense. While I do not agree with the institutionalization of the Church, I still hold its truths very close to me. I respect the words written in the Bible and to a degree want to carry them through to my daily life. I find myself in deep prayer every night, not praying for enlightenment, but for comfort and security in the fact that I am in fact, a good person. I have not reached that realization yet and perhaps never will, but asking for spiritual guidance does in fact relax my discomfort.

My hair is far too short. It used to be long, on my face, unruly, and perfect. Now, its short; it makes my head look so long. I look teribble, and it's all because of Danny, the hair guy. He was, I think, too busy singing the disco music on the radio to listen to what i had told him. "I DO NOT WANT IT SHORT!!!! It must still be long, just clean it up on the sides and the front to make me presentable enough so the family will stp telling me how much they hate it." I am sick and tired of listening to old know-nothing family members tell me how "ugly" I looked. But now they have their wish, and I'm stuck with a hair cut fit for any castmember on "The L Word".

It happened again today. I should start wearing a sign. I should carry around a book of white Hispanic people, maybe then, the steryotype of the dark-skinned greasy haired Latino will be broken. It pisses me off.

Its sort of hard to top myself after such a perfectly written post HAHA. I just feel like blogging today, with nothing significant to say. It's just nice to sit and just write.
Well, Spring Break has finally arrived. For those reader (yes reader) who think I'm gonna "party it up MTV style in sunny Mexico" I'm not.... surprising I know. I'm physically drained, mentally, just blah. This break will be spent relaxing, and trying to wake up in time to catch Ellen, or at least catch I Love Lucy. I love that show haha, I think it's a sort of way to keep a part of my childhood innocence, as I vivdly remember rolling on my grandmother's linoleum floor at the age of 4, in hysterics over Lucy's latest shenanigan. It was also one of my first exposures to the beauty of the Cuban culture, through Ricky's music, thick accent, and severely Cuban sayings muttered under his breath. Many of the things he mumbled were forbidden in English on TV back then... some of them are still barely allowed today. It's so funny how the censors never really took notice of what he was saying.
It's really hard to write well listening to my Launchcast ... In the time it was taken me to write this, it has playd Jlo's Get Right, and I had to stop writiting, because as much as I love that song hahaha, (Guilty Pleasure, ahhh JLO!!!) theres no way an intelligent thought could come through while listening to such a mind numbingly stupidly written song. Now, Rainbow-brite , as you can see, he is the most hideous creature to walk this crazy planet we call Earth, is IMing me. Making it all the more difficulyt to write intelligently, as I have used all of my brain power figuring out a wa yto get him to stop talking to me. "Yeah I'm downloading music Dan... SHH!!!" Or the very fun "Why are you still talking, STOP LOVING ANDY you crazy crazy fool!" I think Im gonna buy dan that book "He's Just Not That Into You!!!!" Dan when you read this..... don't yell at me, or I'll block you.... You wouldn't want that now would you?

Today, I walked downstairs, in my ripped jeans and my snarky urban outfitters Tee and my dad tried to describe or label my "look".... t'was weird, he's a nerd. He began to associate my clothes with my personality... Do people on the street do this? I know I have, just to pass the time. If I have enough time in Hoboken and don't have to run from the train to the bus, I make the short walk, or run, into a 5-6 minute stroll. Analyzing the busy, rushing, older people eager to get home and crawl into bed, not before complaining to their families about the uselessness of their jobs over a hot cardboard box of chicken chow mein. I have no idea who they are, what their names are, or whether or not their lives are screwed up... junkies, prostitutes by night... whatever. But I've noticed that often, people stare at me as well, usually when I'm minding my own business rolling my eyes at the parked bus while the passengers freeze their nipples off. Could they be analyzing me the same way I've done to others. Could they be pinpointing me perfectly, or just giving me a title based on their perception of long haired teenagers. My dad called me a beatnik, and a hipster. No clue what either of those mean. He also said, that to be a beatnik, I must grow a beard.

I looked up beatnik: a person who rejects the mores of established society (as by dressing and behaving unconventionally) and indulges in exotic philosophizing and self-expression Hmm!!! Its not a bad term at all, it's artsy, it's original. But wouldn't the constant search for noncomformacy just result in being labeled a beatnik anyway? In the efforts of being original and not being pigeonholed by society, society has created a new word to label the once unlabelable. This term was created in 1958, no clue about the historical importance of the year, but I'm sure it's significant to someone who knows their modern social history. I of course also looked up hipster: a person who is unusually aware of and interested in new and unconventional patterns (as in jazz or the use of stimulants). Stimulants... drugs? Awesome, my poppa thinks I'm a junkie? He obviously doesn't know the meaning of the word hipster. He's a smart person...... Is there a fancy term for a bitterly, bitingly, sarcastic boy who wears earthtones and listen to just about any type of music? EXCEPT hiphop:)
Both of these definitions have one thing in common, they both describe people in search of unconventionality. Noncomformacy is hard to come by these days, as nearly everyone has conformed to the mundanity of society somehow. Maybe through the millions of Ipods seen in one day, or even in the thousands of people who race home from work every night to catch their favorite guilty pleasures on FOX, ABC, or any other channel offering a night of cheezy reality tv or sinfully good Dramedy. No one is unconventional, no matter how unique they may perceive themselves to be.

Itseems as though whenever I get to that one point of sheer bliss, there's always that person, or that event that brings me back to reality. Just when I think life couldn't get any better, I'm right, and theres the thing that makes me realize over and over again that my life does in fact, suck major ass :D

God BLESS!!!
Robert

Why can't I just sit down once in a while and just READ. I buy books that interest me, interest me very much. These books have gotten great reviews, and their first chapters are incredible. When people ask me what I'm reading, I tell them all 3 titles, it may sound impressive, but the truth is I'm on Chapter 2 in all 3 of them. Chapter 1s were GOOD, maybe I'll do the rest during Easter Break.... HA right

I've decided to put these 3 aside, interesting as they may be, and to start Catcher in the Rye again. It's my favorite book, and is one of the few books I read entirely for school, the others are The Perks of Being a Wallflower, the Good People of New York, Gatsby, and the Crucible. Catcher is amazingly written, funny, emotional, and has had a lasting impression on me. I won't give away the end, although the one person that reads me consistently has read it aswell, but the end of this book was as perfect asthe rest. This is usually not the case with the books I read.... Good People of NY had a teribble ending even though the rest of it was wonderful. Perks, also has a great ending, it reminds me a lot of Catcher. Perks is very often reffered to as a modernized, more extreme (obviously authors get away with much more now than when Catcher was written) version of Catcher. I cant wait to read it again, and will definately enjoy every moment. Ahh the pimp chapter!

JUG, short for Justice Under God is my school's fancy way of saying... detention! It is a useless period of 40 minutes where you sit up straight ( or as straight as possible) in quiet. While some students may see it as a teribble inconvenience, I find it to be a great way to start my day. I recieved 5 JUGs for forgetting to bring back a form. And in JUG, I have started to write a book in my head. The problem is, i keep forgetting everything I write about in my head and start over every day. I believe one title of one of my short stories in my head was "Pale Waspy English Teacher with the Bright Scarves!" I wish I knew how that one went, as I remember it was quite hot, and illegal in most countries. The original preface was about my wanting to write a book since I was 7, wanting to be the youngest author ever to be published. I'm sure however, that somewhere there is already a 7 yr-old published author. Not because he or she were a gifted child, a prodigy... but I'm sure the book sold well based on the cute-factor and the oh so easy marketing strategy. By the age of 12 the book I wanted to write had a basic plotline, a woman goes to ride the subway, she meets a Hobo... fall sin love with him... he dies of an STD and she spends the rest of her life living on the subway where he used to live. It makes a good SNL skit and was not going to be a serious love story by any means, but I think it would be too uninteresting to write about. Now, I am rather plotless, There is of course a love triangle between a student and 2 very different teachers however, both of which teach Spanish.

Wow, I was on Emmaus. There has been so much buildup to the weekend, and now that it's over I can't help but think, "Is there ANYTHING left in my Prep career to look forward to?" I mean... Emmaus... It's Emmaus. That's a huge deal in most Prep student's lives. I kind of took it for granted when I got there. I don't like to talk about myself on an emotional level. And apparently lots of people on Emmaus do... And I thought that was incredible. I honestly didn't think there was anything worth sharing on my part.... My life isn't that bad to need to vent so openly about it. I think at home, while my relationship with my family could be stronger, it's not that bad. The weekend as a whole was tremendous, moving, powerful, and surprisingly, not that centered on faith. Which gave us all a chance to get closer on a personal level and not on one based on religion, which can sometimes be a fake, sugarcoated kind of connection. Often you hear in Church, "brothers and sisters..." And you take it as kind of an obligatory, "Jesus said we're brothers, so it must be true." But this weekend, we formed bonds, and brotherhoods, essentially, that honestly cannot be taught through religion. My small group consisted of some of the most interesting, amazing, and inspirational people that I will ever have the privilege of knowing. The conversations we've had as a small group or as individuals during downtime hiking up to "Mount Emmaus" or at dinner etc were some of the most meaningful and awesome conversations I'll ever had. I entered Emmaus reluctantly, scared, and very unsure as to whether or not it was a good idea to go. The members of my small group alone proved it to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Several times throughout the course of one week, I sit in front of my television, and mindlessly watch the addictive Fox programming. Twice a week, American Idol owns me, as well as the rest of the house. We all watch and sadly make picks as to who our favorites are. As of right now, I don't like anyone, and I'm usually good at picking. Picked Fantasia from the moment she auditioned originally with "Proud Mary." The O.C. is my latest Fox obsession. It fits every single "good tv" cliche very nicely into on hour each week. You've got your Ross/Rachel type romance. Your rebellious drunk lesbian. Your big eyebrowed almost-gonna-cheat-on-his-wife-with-the-exgirlfriend-he-thought-was-dead lawyer. And you've got the bad seed from the bad town. It's a great show, and I always feel both exhilarated and embarrassed every Thursday once it's over
The only reason I'm writing all of this is to avoid a VERY boring religion assignment. What does it mean to be Catholic? What kind of Catholic? The ME kind? That's the kind that doesn't go to church, doesn't share his religious side, prays once in a while, but his religion doesn't consume him. Or do you mean to God Squad type Catholics? The type the sing songs about Jesus on long car rides? The kind that when you ask "how are you" they say "I'm blessed, and how are you fellow brother in Christ"? That type? This is a very vague question and could be responded to very sarcastically or very introspectively.

I don't want to go back to school. I haven't been there much, and it's not like I'm doing phenomenally well in any of my classes. There are only a few things worth going to school over, Chemistry is not one of them. Ugh that damn class just scares me to death. I just dont GET it, and I dont think I ever will. I wish I knw how to study :(

Well, it's 18 degrees outside, about 30something in the house. I have pieces of ice.... growing in places. I bought a new blanket, it's a weird materials that feels even softer than cashmere. Of course my sense of touch is compromised as I cannot feel my fingertips. My room is one of if not the warmest room in the house, because I've had my door closed since yesterday. My dad told me today that the new unit won't be available until March 1. At that point, I yelled at him enough to convince him to yell at the Heat dude as severely as I had just yelled at my dad. We went to houlihans and target to escape the bitter cold of our house. I'm wearing my cashmere sweater along with a bunch of other tshirts just to keep warm. I'm getting even more pale, is that possible, yet my nose is red, I look adorable :-P We're going on a search tomorrow around the house. It's so cold in here that everyone in the house is now on the lookout for one of my nipples, as it has fallen off due to the freezingness :)

I'm going to crawl under my tshirt sheets, comforter, and maybemightaswellbecashmere blanket and try to keep warm. Wish me luck!

Well, it's official. My life sucks! :) Our heater has broken, and my bedroom is about 40something degrees. My sister has bronchitis, and strep throat, and this sudden rush of freezing in the house is not going to make her any better. The OC I snow on, that makes me feel better, I will envy them even more than I usually do though, as I am sure their huge house with the pool and stuff is a at a comfortable temperature. I think I just saw my own breath, isn't that special? Hopefully, ideally really, it will be fixed tomorrow. Doubtful, I think. How often do one of those technicians has an entire heating system ready to replace the broken one in the back of their huge truck WHICH could in fact hold the heating unit, but no that would be convenient, then the ingenious heat dude would not be able to charge for multiple visits, along with the installation fee and of course all the other fees he may encounter along the way... I'm so excited to see how much this will cost my parents... I can assure that I will never go on vacation again... Thanks heating unit, you suck.

There's something strangely peaceful about the sound of rain against my window. I don't like to be in the rain itself because it is uncomfortable, but looking at it, and hearing it against my window at night is very soothing. The sound also helps me go to sleep... that's weird I know, but I'm really not the most normal of people anyway

Today was a very interesting day. It was a regular, plain day in school. Nothing special happened. I finally was able to do my English presentation and that huge weight has been lifted, since I did fear that all of my observations of the poem were wrong. My Spanish teacher is one of a kind, I think. I hope. If there's more than one of her, the world is sure to implode. On Monday, she was looking through an exercise book. Not really exercises, more like different ways to stretch your body on/around a huge bouncy ball. Not for nothing, but I am willing to sell my soul in order to see her attempt these exercises, as I'm sure I will pee myself should the opportunity arise. Today, she was just as insane, and yelled a lot more.... fun. After that I went to my English teacher to see what homework I was missing since I was out of school for 4 days. :) And after speaking to her for 15/20 mins :) I went home and that is where this blog begins.
I will refer to whoever reads this as "dear readers" as that is what i saw someone else on blogspot do once and found it both hilarious and sarcastic. Both qualities I am told I posses.

I wasn't sure exactly why I decided to start this blog. I guess it was the sort of secret longing for originality? ha ha! I wasn't sure what to call this blog either. I was thinking "Robert is Dreaming of English Teachers." Too obvious a parody, yes?

I'm very exaughsted and conflicted. Conflicted because while these sick days were not enjoyable they were relaxing as I felt like doing nothing more but sleep, and collapsed into bed several times throughout the course of each day. I also, however, want to go back to school, not because i miss it, but because I need to. NEED TO. When I think of all the work I'm missing i get very nervous, feraring that I may never catch up. An image of me , asleep, at my desk, my face burried in my chemistry book, while drool ruins page 211. I've kind of missed the people as well, aww! haha