Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Wessie's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, August 30th, 2008
5:34 pm	Another Facebook note. Facebook is what keeps me posting in Livejournal, interestingly enough... A big part of what makes most students like/dislike a professor has to do with exactly how that teacher crunches their numbers. Do they drop the lowest test score? Do they call the highest grade 100% and grade from there? Do they call an 88% an A? Do they give a certain test less weight if enough students do poorly? Do they give extra credit? Or... do they trust their own teaching enough to tell it like it is? As I was reading through my syllabi a moment ago (and--obviously--looking for any excuse to keep facebooking), I came across a new one: "The lowest exam grade will be replaced with the second lowest grade. Example: Exam grades of 80, 80, 70, and 40 would be scored as 80, 80, 70, and 70." What?? I've always had a lot of respect for teachers who were brave enough to stick to their guns even if half the class failed. After all, it is the students' responsibility to learn. But (and this is especially when I end up on the bottom) there's always that thought in the back of my mind: "yes, but it's the teacher's responsibility to teach." So what, exactly, does that mean? Teaching is entirely dependent on learning. Ideally, a teacher would impart material in such a clear, interesting, easy-to-understand manner that no student would have unnecessary trouble learning it. Also ideally, students would work and study exactly as the teacher intended, in order for their teaching to stick. Then both teacher and students would be successful. But when they aren't, whose fault is it? It's got to be up to the student. You can learn anything, but you can't teach anything. The best student can succeed even with the worst teacher, but the even the best teacher has no hope teaching the worst student. (Which brings up another question, though: does the teacher's responsibility end at presenting information in a learnable way? Mustn't they also inspire, engage, and arouse the desire to learn? If so, the best teacher should be able to transform the worst student into the best student, and then they COULD teach anything. To anyone. But that seems like an unreasonable burden to place on the teacher.) Which, getting back to my original reason for posting, would mean that no teacher should ever have to qualify the grades they give with curves or omissions or extra credit or weird doubling of the second-lowest score. Correction: no BEST teacher should ever have to do so. But, teachers make mistakes, right? They misspeak, they test students on something they haven't taught, they ... make mathematical errors... should they make allowances for that? Plus: maybe they don't HAVE to do it, but they do it to be nice. Haven't you all had teachers of a 'hard' course who gave tons of extra credit, and just known it was because they couldn't stand to give out so many Cs? Is it right for them to do that? Is it fair to those who would have gotten As anyway? Aaaa! I know I should end this right about now, but I keep remembering other things I wanted to say. Please ignore this next part. It doesn't really fit, but I think about it every single time I get a test back, and I never figure it out: The actual number-crunching part of it is confusing, too. Statistically speaking. Forget about teachers' and students' responsibilities for now and consider this: You're a professor and you have a bunch of test scores. Lots in the 70s, some 80s, and two or three in the 90s. And a smattering of fails. You decide that oy, they didn't do as well as you thought they would--wow, that test must have been harder than you thought--yeah, you'd better cushion that somehow. Say that your decision to do so is ethical. Say you wanted to do so in an ethical way. How do you do it? You could add 3 percentage points to every score. But then you have a 102% in there--does that person have an unfair advantage now that they're on the other side of the 100 mark? You could give everyone an extra 5% of their own grade. But then that 99 goes up by almost 5% and the person who got 60% only goes up to 63. Is that fair? Or you throw out one of the questions: if you got it right, your grade stays out of 100, but if you got it wrong, it's calculated out of 99. Is that fair to the people who got it right? It doesn't hurt them, but is it giving everyone else an advantage they don't deserve? And maybe the people with 99s shouldn't be worrying about it, since they're fine anyway--but think of it on principle. Is it fair/right/just/ethical to withhold the curve from some students just because they're doing well? Or the classic curve: you decide to calculate the whole test out of 95, instead of out of 100. Is this more or less right then the ways mentioned above? Or say we're talking about dropping the lowest test score. The person with four close scores gains little, while the person with three close scores and a doozy gains lots. Which allows for bad days, yes, but also allows for someone to work hard for 3/4 of the class and then stop learning altogether. Annnnd that's that. Sprawling, directionless wondering, that. (That that that.) Has anyone else ever thought about this? (3 heads | Laugh your head off)
Friday, August 1st, 2008
11:36 am	The Summer of Oatmeal Never really loved oatmeal before this summer. I had it every once in a while, and enjoyed it on occasion, but now I love it love it love it. And plain, too. Oats + Water + Heat. It basically encapsulates my whole summer of living in the dorms without a meal plan and having fun being frugal. Who wants to guess how much peanut butter I've consumed since May 5th? (because I'm awesome and that's when my summer starts)---well, the answer is a helluva lot. Don't even know how much. I'm guessing it averages out to about a jar every two weeks. And not a little jar, either. One of the big tall ones. And once, one of the mongo fat ones. On apples, on carrots, on crackers, in tortillas... and mostly just by itself whenever the apples/crackers/tortillas are gone. I used to have a tolerance level--once I reached a certain point, I couldn't handle any more--but that's history, and now I can eat the PB continuously. I have made the transition from mostly creamy to mostly crunchy, however, which has been an interesting journey. Crunchy is much more fun to eat alone. I'm turning 20 in two weeks ish (wow, you're only 20?) and you're all invited to my house. On, I think, the 10th. Maybe I'll have a bouncy castle! but probably not. I'll probably  just tell everyone there'll be a bouncy castle to get them to come, then not bother paying the $150 or whatever it would cost. Although it would be super-cool... Annnd, my race is tomorrow, what what? Yeah. 1x, 2x, love love love. Hope hope hope! (1 head | Laugh your head off)
Wednesday, July 30th, 2008
5:31 pm	Facebook notes are intimidating. Until you remember you have a Livejournal! As much as Livejournal lends itself to the "does anyone even read this?" insecurities, it's a little easier to handle than facebook. Blogging-wise, mind you. Definitely not keeping-in-touch-with-people-wise. It's nice, because I don't feel like I'm forcing anyone to read this. I'm just there, ready to be read if you feel like it, but not imposing, not demanding. Just existing nicely. So I don't feel bad going on and on about things you don't care about. Woot! Rowing, rowing rowing rowing. My life would be so different right now if I lived on the other side of the country. And if I were taller. I've always been one to envy the short, cute people, but now, for the first time, I find myself wishing for just a couple more inches of leg. I've wondered a lot lately how uncommon it is to have a growth spurt at the age of 20. But, epiphyseal plates and west coast living situation aside (plus the fact that I've finally reached the end of my club's supply of Rowing News magazine and might actually have to subscribe to the thing), the rowing is going fantastically. I love that I can learn. Portland is amazing, as well. I can't inhale enough of it. It smells wet like Oregon in the mornings. See, that's what biking is good for! You don't get the tour de fragrance if you drive. I rode by the Franz bread factory the other day. Mmm... yeasty. And huge quantities of flowers on Willamette Blvd--always good. Though I suppose the Willamette itself can't be described as sweet-smelling, excepting, of course, the Burnt Toast Smell (that I think is actually burnt tires) just past the Freemont. Neither can the random seven-block stretch of strangely urine-ish aroma on the way downtown (I still can't figure out what that was---I really doubt that there'd be a large enough quantity of pee to give off such a strong stench. Plus, it was fresh urine smell, not stale urine smell. So it's still a mystery). Annnd bus exhaust (exHAUST, I love you Kayla). Oh, but there's nothing like passing a fast-food place at 7 in the morning when you've just rowed up a growling appetite... which is why I don't carry cash on me. Heh. In other news, I love my life! You? (5 heads | Laugh your head off)
Saturday, June 14th, 2008
7:33 pm	A facebook note that smelled like Livejournal: Second and Third 1x days ever! (I'm not counting Thursday, even though I technically was in a single--I put my oars in with the gates to the stern, so they were totally backwards-ly pitched... not good. And I couldn't figure out what was wrong, so I just gave up and came back in. So I'm not counting that one...) Developed 9 new blisters yesterday. Check! Opened five of them today, plus two old ones. Check! Friday: I decided I'd better get out in a single again before my race on Saturday--figured it'd be a good plan, since the last time I was out was the first time I was out, and that was weeks ago. Seriously: I was worried I wouldn't even be able to put my oars in the water successfully, let alone put any power behind them. But I got down there and took out one of the club singles for a delicious two-hour row, all by my lonesome. Some minor glitches, though... First: getting the boat to the water. Not only do I have to balance the almost 40 pounds (26ish feet long, by the way) of super-expensive boat on my head, but I've got to do it while side-stepping down this little portable staircase (because this is the single no one really uses and it's waay up high). Scary. So I get down the stairs (after only two minor panic attacks). Then I get halfway to the dock and realize the boat has no seat! So I carry it back to the boathouse and find the seat that I assume goes with it, put the seat in the tracks, and resume my trek. But I failed to stop and think WHY the seat might have been separate from the boat in the first place. Maybe it's because when you flip the boat upside down, the seat goes crashing back down to the concrete! :( I'm so glad no one was there to watch any of this. Since this is a tale of incompetence, I will skip over the next 90 minutes or so for the sake of continuity--they wouldn't really fit the theme. But on my way back to the boathouse, just upstream of the Steel, I fell right back into it, hoo boy. No, my friends, it was not a branch or a tree or a piece of debris: it was a dock. I ran into a dock. Correction: got stuck under a dock. The bow of the boat ran up under this ridge on the edge, and even though I scooted and backed and swore profusely, it wouldn't budge. My dears, we are very glad that I learned how to get back into a single, because yours truly had to hop OUT of the boat in order to maneuver it and swim it free. Swimming in socks is the weirdest feeling in the world, by the way. The bow ball is history, and a bit of the tip of the boat came of with it. Such a sad thing. Luckily, it was only a Pocock trainer--but there really should've been someone there to scold me and say "THIS is why we can't have nice things!" Saturday: Now for the good stuff. WHOooo racing! 3-by-1000m: quad, double, and single. Quad sucked poop, and I was happy it was such a short race. The double was MUUUCH much better; the best rowing I'd done in a double ever. Rowed in the Big Booty with a girl named Kalmia, and didn't come in last! Very together and lovely. We might've gotten first if there'd been another 250 meters or so. But the siiingle... gllaaaaa... (wow, this is going to be a really long note)... So we only brought one of Station L's singles, so I borrowed one of PBC's. Their best one, mind you. Suuuper-duper light--completely carbon-fiber stuff. And the most amazing color of sparkly blue. It was incredible. Thing is, it was taller than it was wide, which made for a very terrifying warm-up. Hoo. I didn't get the hang of it until I actually started the race, but then... then I was flying, man! I won the race (because novices got a head start), and I did not want to get out of that beautiful little Fluid when I was done. Jeez. Masters racing is too short. A note about PBC's boathouse: AMAZING. Totally old-school. Because it's a House-Boat Boathouse!! As in floating. On the Willamette. Wooden everything, and big sliding garage-type doors that open straight out onto the dock. And upstairs, there are bathrooms and showers and COUCHES and ergs and a BALCONY right above their docking area... it's really small, and can't hold eights, but it's soo beautiful. We had eggs and Noah's Bagels (of course!) upstairs after the racing was done, and it felt like something out of "Daddy Who?"--delicious. (Not done yet)---So we ate and talked (and, by the way, now we know where all the cute Portland sculler men hide), and then Catherine (Station L's sculling coach--she's from Boston!) asked if I wanted to stay and row a double with her! AAaaa! So we went out (in the Frederick--and Mandy, I have the track-bites to prove it...) and I got some of the most individualized and attentive coaching I've ever had. Because she was right there in the bow behind me! And she's just like Kinsey; she knows exactly what to say and exactly what to change to make your rowing feel golden. Sooo much I learned today. Sooo many good rowing things in this world. La la la! Hurrah! (1 head | Laugh your head off)
Wednesday, May 21st, 2008
4:08 pm	Some rowing thoughts Wow. So I'm officially in love with rowing. I just had the best experience in an eight I've ever had. Ever! The sad part was that it wasn't even with my crew, but with a club I'm rowing with just for the summer. So now I'm jealous. Seriously. It wasn't even spectacular technique-wise... we weren't really 100% set, and we weren't 100% together. But... We were rowing in this BEAUTIFUL red boat they got from USC practically new (and it's even better on the inside than it is on the outside... it was shiny-new looking, and the shoes fit, and the velcro worked...), for one. But the biggest things; the things that made all the difference in the world, were the focus and intensity I felt! Everyone in the boat was pulling the right amount; no one was just there for the ride. And everyone in the boat was really paying close attention to everything that went on; there was no one who was just checked out and going through the motions. It was amazing. Our cox was really observant, too, and made a lot of helpful comments--and every single time she did, the whole boat would pick up the change, on the very next stroke! We were just doing this steady-state thing, but everyone was sooo focused and soo into it that it might've been race day or something. Guh! I want that for my crew so badly! I need to know how to make a really huge change in a relatively large group of people. Wessie is the president of the crew club for 08-09, and she needs to transform it from blah blah blah crew club to BAM! CREW! We win races! We don't quit coming to practice! We always make Grands! I'm scared. If this doesn't happen this year, it's a personal failure on me--I need to know that I can motivate people when I need to. Band at LC was amazing, but I always wanted more, and I was always too afraid to try and make that a reality. And now I've got this amazing chance to be a leader, right? So I can't blow it. Especially since so much of my future depends on me being able to get people to care about what I care about, and work hard for something they wouldn't otherwise work for. This coming year is going to be what decides whether I have that ability, I think. If I don't... I don't know. Re-evaluation time, I suppose. Crew and Band are so close for me. I believe I've figured out why I love them both so much. It's all about togetherness, okay? And skill. And the skill that it takes to be exactly together. I love feeling like I can read peoples' minds when I'm playing or rowing with them--when I think something, and feel them all think that same thing right then. Amazing. That, and the competition. The way it feels when you can call yourself 'good.' Mmmm. THAT is what I want for my crew. I want to put us on the map, man! I want people to recognize us, to say "oh, yeah, those are UP's blades." Eeeee, I hope I hope I hope I hope. (From my facebook... because I'm just that original...) Sweetest Sculling Day Ever I'm in love with Portland summer. I have one class, two nights a week. I have three jobs, which will pay for my class, hopefully. Then the rest of the time, I either bike, row, or facebook. Woo! Or watch Lost. How cool is that? Isn't life just grand? Today I went for a swim in the Willamette. I know--disgusting, right? Probably. But it was beautiful. So this morning, I wake up, get dressed, and ride my bike down to the boathouse. I express my desire to scull to Peter, who agrees to let me take out a single! (This is an amazing thing, since my first and only day of sculling was the double last Saturday.) From about 7:20 - 9:00, I scull my heart out in my little sliver of a boat. Pretty amazing business. It's not so much the solitude I love about the single--it's the knowledge that everything that happens is 100% caused by me and my body. It makes it incredibly challenging, and makes concentration even more crucial than it is in a bigger boat. Can you imagine what it'd be like to race in a single? No coxswain, no line of rowers behind you, and no one to blame if things don't go the way you want them to. Craziness ; ). But really really good for me. I spent the whole day trying to figure out a) how to steer without my two hands confusing each other and b) how to make one, clean catch. I think I did (b) twice the whole time I was out. But I did figure out that I can steer with my back, which really helped. There were a lot of close calls with debris, too, which just makes me admire my Morgan even more. Tiny little skegs mean even tiny pieces of crap are no good, and more than once, way big logs would skim by about two inches from my boat. After the second time this happened, I realized I should probably look around more often... duh. I docked so I could put my shoes and socks on the dock, then went right back out again. Why? Because, my lovelies, I wanted to go for a swim! Wessie stood up with her feet on the tracks of the skinny little boat (and let go of the oars for maybe...a second and a half!), then let herself fall into ze sewage that is her favorite river in the world. Coollld cold water, but deliciously refreshing. Took me a while, but I definitely climbed back in, just like on that USRowing video, and was very proud of myself. I docked again, carried the boat back up to the boathouse on my head, and was getting ready to bike back to campus when one of the sculler guys in the club asked me if I wanted to go out again! Three of the guys wanted to take out a quad, but everyone else had to leave, so I sat in and went for my second sculling row of the day. Did you know that 2-seat in a quad is the cox? Bow seat has the toe, but two is the one who calls everything. Cool, eh? I didn't know this, of course, or I wouldn't have sat there, but I thought it'd be good for me to have two people to watch instead of just one. So I got to cox, too! Gah. And it was a good thing I did go out in the quad, too, because that's when I was able to do the best work on my catch. Much better set. Plus, we were doing starts and pressure pieces, and I don't think there's any way I'd have reached a 37 on my second day of sculling if I only rowed the single. I also got some really weird-shaped new blisters. Man. It was beautiful. I learned so much! Plus, it was fast! I love rowing with male-types. Heck, what am I talking about? I just plain love rowing. This has got to be the sweetest rowing day of my life. Plus, I didn't even get hot on my bike on the way back, because I was still wet from my little flip-test. So that was cool. What a delicious day. What a delicious life. (4 heads | Laugh your head off)
Tuesday, October 30th, 2007
11:29 pm	Sometimes I just can't help but feel lucky. Even when I'm stressing over all of the things I'm responsible for and all the people I'm responsible to, when I stay up until two and wake up at five with a cram-packed day ahead of me, and when I get so overwhelmed and frustrated I feel like I could die, in the middle of all that, I'll get these random moments when I feel so happy to be alive. For no reason at all! Somehow, with all of the nastiness that should be distracting me, I realize how in love I am with the air I'm breathing. It's because these moments come so randomly and unexpectedly and out of context, and always when I seem to need them most, that I also can't help but believe there's someone bigger than I am who's watching out for me. And then I feel luckier still! (Laugh your head off)
Sunday, September 9th, 2007
11:21 pm	UP... We Poop! I love it here. No reason. I just do. I love Hannah Montana. Judge me if you must. I love getting cookies in the mail. And Disney Princesses. I'm waiting in my room for a boy who said he maybe might maybe call or come up to finish calc with me. I finished it while I was waiting for him, but that's okay. I'm thinking maybe calculus wasn't the point. I wish I could live in the dorms forever. This is good stuff. My roommate is beautiful and my music is perfect and my sheets are orange. And I have my schedule all drawn out and color-coded and hanging up on the wall behind my desk. I learned about goosebumps today. And about albinism. I have the feeling that sometime soon I'll learn what really happens when you crack your knuckles. THAT's what I've been waiting for. There are lots and lots of really goofy pictures of me. I like that. I love you! (6 heads | Laugh your head off)
Saturday, February 3rd, 2007
2:49 pm	Deliciously, she posted. It's raining today. Finally. I live in Portland, and it hasn't rained for ... two full weeks, I think. Maybe not. But some absurd amount of time. It's a little comforting. Not that I minded the amazing January-but-really-April weather, of course. But this feels a little more normal. And not only that. When you're inside and it's raining outside, it feels ... good. I miss my Semagic thingy. I had it downloaded on my computer at home, but this laptop has it not. It was pretty fun to type in that little box thing, though. Maybe I'll get it again. We'll see. My roommate has been sleeping all day. My, that girl can sleep. I really like college. I like how it somehow inspires in me a different kind of (or maybe just more) abstract thinking. I walk around my wing practically every night before I go to bed, each time thinking hard about some new, really important conundrum. Plus, the food is really awesome. This is something I realized anew this morning. Today for breakfast, I had: Cocoa Puffs Peanut Butter Toast Banana Muffin Potato Gnocci Stuff Peach juice Nowhere but the Commons could I have that variety. Really, now. I ate what I wanted, and only what I wanted. I put some Sierra Mist in my juice to make it sparkle. I didn't eat the crust of my toast. I was fully satisfied. It was beautiful. I've discovered that when I'm not really paying attention to my writing (and even sometimes when I am), I write in very short, choppy sentences. Read the first paragraph again! I assume I'm writing to sound the way I would speak if I were telling you all this in person. Does everybody speak so choppily, or do regular people speak in regularly rhythmed, complex sentences? Ah, livejournal. You're delicious. Goodbye, all! Wessie Alejandra Walker (4 heads | Laugh your head off)
Friday, July 28th, 2006
11:19 pm	Dannow -- These really are my thoughts, I promise. The subject line of a livejournal post can be a sort of fluid thing for me. Though I usally starting my posts with a subject in mind and schlep that into the title spot, the focus will change slightly while I type through my original subject. Like looking at the same object, but zoomed differently or at a different angle altogether. Right now, the subject is 'Dannow' (just in case it changes before I'm done, see?). Not because I intended to post about Dannow or to Dannow, but because I thought about him a great deal today. Here's the story that isn't really a story. I was trying to come up with original palindromes while my charge was napping, and suddenly I felt a tremendous urge to write Japanese. So I did, which inevitably left me almost forgetting katakana ke (how could I?) (note the ALMOST) but more importantly, thinking about Dannow. I wasn't thinking about him on purpose, you see. He was just going for a little stroll through my head. Nothing like running through a memory slideshow like I'm doing now. (That's what happens when I think about people on purpose, you see.) But he was just drifting around in there, replying to my hiragana, mostly, but also having a conversation with me in the future. My mom wants us to have dinner with him and his mom, you see, before August the 19th. So he was on my mind anyway. This is a really crappy story. Ding dang darn. This always happens. There's no ending, no culmination. The point is that I was thinking about Dannow and so I randomly typed his name as my subject. Hoo boy. I'm out of practice. 'Practice' has two Cs in it, which I should remember. The point is also that I love Dannow, by the way. There is a feeling that I greatly dislike. This feeling doesn't have a specific name, but it is the feeling one gets-- the feeling I get, at least, when I know I have to miss something. It's a very broad feeling. Missing the Japanese that I should remember better and that I should have learned more of. Then, more deeply, missing going to Japan, being obsessed with Japan, bathing in Japanese everything because I love it. Missing all of that. Missing every course my life could take that I don't end up taking, in other words. With almost all of the people I know, I have missed knowing more of them than I know, because I've never placed my soul next to theirs and just looked and looked. Very close to all. I don't say 'all' definitely because I know it's not, but I can't think of the ambiguous exception right now. When I say 'I miss', I don't mean I miss it like I had it and now it's gone. I mean I miss it as in I miss out on it, I miss the opportunity of it. Just to clarfy. I miss doing all of those great things I fully FULLY intended to do for about an hour or a few minutes. I really do! I mourn the loss of failed intentions--I don't let my mourning rule my life, but I do mourn. Only.... I think I maybe let it rule my life more than I think I do. I believe those of you who know me have an understanding of my ... drive to do everything. And maybe I don't show as much this feeling I have when I don't. But the thing is this! Though I can't do everything, I can certainly do more than I am doing. If ... something...weren't there, I could have had my own summer camp like Gia and I could have organized a band with my dear four, and I Could have made a bigger change to our marching band. These things are not large things. People like me don't understand that they have more power than they think, and they can absolutely do some of those things they really meant to do. If they only meant to do them longer. I want to change my subject to something that says "I guess I'm sorry this is cryptic-sounding and hard to understand, but I understand it, and you can, too, if you only try hard enough." That's always on my list of worries while posting here. That my point won't get across, that you won't understand what I mean and will think I'm just rattling off cliche-esque things that I think sound good, just like others do. These really are my thoughts, I promise. Heh. And there we go. Sorry Dannow, you only got me back into the swing of things. But-- because I got your hopes up, I'll let you share the subject. Ha! And make it look like it's addressed to you. I like this game. (2 heads | Laugh your head off)
Sunday, March 26th, 2006
10:00 pm	I think I kind of think like a poem. Lately, I like to have some sort of cohesiveness to my journals. Which is probably why I hardly ever update anymore. I wonder if I'll think of one before this post is done. GAH. My state of mind right now? Raskolnikov. Not the person. The schism. So I guess really Raskol. Ugh. By this I mean there seems to be very discrete sections of my brain slash life, and my consciousness can only exist in one at a time. My all 5s, all As brain is one. Which is usually pretty relaxed, though less so as we near MAY. It makes me wonder about the next time I can spend hours just sitting in a sunny window spot studying and feeling productive. My band brain is another. This one gets me pretty stressed out at times, just because of the state of affairs...this will probably change after... CBC... but that's kinda far off. It's also pretty emotional. Moody, kinda. Then there's PICI brain. Ugh. This is the state of mind that suffers the most from procrastination, and therefore stressy stress (!!!).... it hurts it hurts it hurts. The reasons I took PICI, as far as I can tell: a) to get out of taking a history class, b) I thought the class would be pretty awesome, c) because I recognized in myself a need to learn how to get out and do what needs to be done. That's what I think was supposed to be the most valuable thing about PICI, and I'm ruining it by running it just like any other class I'm taking. graaar self! College state of mind = soooo irritable. It's disgusting, really. As of now, I'd really just rather not go to college. I don't want to go anywhere that costs money, I don't want to go anywhere that doesn't cost money, and I cringe at the thought of having to force myself to work even more. So maybe I just don't want to go anywhere. This makes me think of something else: my essay for Portland was about how I took up the trumpet so I could exercise my power over the circumstances in my life; so I could prove that I can be whoever I want to be. So what if I want to be a serious music person? Starting now? I want to consult some magical handbook of life that could tell me if it were feasible. I can play the flute and piano and trumpet, and I'm slowly but surely learning theory, and I have an insane hunger for jazz and improv... That's the thing! I'm SO hungry for it! Those things tell me I should, no questions asked. On the other hand ... I'm not exceptional by any means, and no one really starts big things like this in their last year of high school... do they? On the other hand, that's what I wrote my stupid essay about! I have the power to do with my life what I want to do with my life. And if I want to work hard enough to satiate my hunger for what I'm hungry for, I need to do that. Regardless. AAaaaaaargh. I think I'm entering the last stage of my life where a pace is enforced. The two types of people: Nows and Laters... We're supposed to be pruned to be Nows, but to such a gigantic extent that all we really want to do is be Laters. Wouldn't eternity just be luxurious? But in just this odd little sample of Wessie, you have a paragraph of Later and a paragraph of Nowish Laterness. Which one is regular and which one happens because eternity doesn't exist? I think I kind of think like a poem. Current Mood: Aagh (3 heads | Laugh your head off)
Tuesday, December 6th, 2005
12:03 am	I love the feeling of loving me. This is why I love livejournal, yeah. Hmm... I just googled "Livejournal Wessiewa" to see what I came up with. I think I can understand how a parent might be scared for their children on the internet... but at the same time, I feel like I don't quite understand what the big deal is. oy. I just use this thing for my friends, ya know? And I like the possibility of meeting new people via ... it... so I don't make it friends only. boo. I love not being frazzled all the time. I absolutely LOVE it. But... it does make it hurt more when I am frazzled. Like now. However, 'tis better, no, to frazzle and hurt five times per semester than to frazzle and not quite hurt as bad five times a week? indeed. this is why I love this year. Another reason: This year, I'm going to get straight A's. And 5's on all my AP tests. That's a fact. Which is why I be taking a psychological breather in my PICI frazzle night. So I can do that. See? If I didn't blog... How could I so easily say I love you all? ... maybe it's not supposed to be easy, though. Perhaps... part of the meaning of 'I love you' is the relative difficulty of expressing it. It's more difficult to say it in real life, don't you agree? In typing... you don't need as much context. Blurt out I love you during a regular conversation, and the recipient will be thinking about why on earth you said it just then, instead of dwelling on the fact that they are loved. by you. me. see? :) Conclusion: livejournals be good, even though people think otherwisely. I love the feeling of loving me. This is why I love livejournal, yeah. I feel more lovable in print. over. (6 heads | Laugh your head off)
Sunday, September 18th, 2005
9:29 pm	I'm a little glad I won't be turning 18 until my senior year is over. It'll make me feel more 18, ya know? For the moment, I'm 17. New kind-of-neighbors (next door to next door to nortons)... little girl who had her TWO birthday party today. feliz cumple anos, I think it was. whatevs. but cuuuuuuuuute!!!!! it's only September and already I'm sick of people asking me about next year. I think it was Cody who mentioned that before... people hear I'm a Senior and their brains automatically click to "what are your plans for next year?" mode. I hate small talk. If you're going to talk, why not use big talk? Or at least regular size, for heaven's sake. yeesh. I suppose I wouldn't mind so much if I actually had a CLUE about next year. Two things: I'm a Rainbow type personality. I have a hard time choosing one color scheme, so I default by choosing all of them. doesn't quite work with future plans, really. The second thing is really hard to put into words. *gives up*... boo future. I want a baby! I want to go to Portland!!! (3 heads | Laugh your head off)
Sunday, August 28th, 2005
5:09 pm	(6 heads | Laugh your head off)
Saturday, July 30th, 2005
11:37 am	HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOLO!!! yay for birthdays of that one. :D ... So. I'm here! typing. Finally. (I hear the ice cream man) I haven't updated since May 15th. Long time. I grew up, for those of you who don't know already. I'm a big girl now. But it's not sad! It's actually a relief, because I was starting to think that when I grew up I wouldn't be Wessie anymore, but I still am! Just grown-up. :) I was afraid of it like Peter Pan, but now I know I never should have been. So Wessie has been spending her summer doing THREE things and three things only. Discounting sleep. From most time spent to least time spent: #1 Dancing. #2 Nothing. #3 Watching babies. Yep. So dancing is beautiful wonderful. Everyone should be doing it. Right now. I would elaborate, but I won't. But it's the best thing ever EVER ever. yeah. mm.... I gotta go potty. Bye all! (3 heads | Laugh your head off)
Sunday, May 15th, 2005
1:59 pm	Here are the googleisms for me. ALL of them. wessie is een succes wessie is known wessie is a classy mover with event experience wessie is probably a better description wessie is the smart one wessie is wessie is also common wessie is survived by her daughters wessie is pissed off wessie is speaking to the prison board or to a mother that has just lost her son to the killing machine heh. those make me laugh. (4 heads | Laugh your head off)
Monday, May 2nd, 2005
9:50 pm	I am so FRUSTRATED!!!! AUGH!!!! Well, excuse me for trying. Excuse me for being my idealist little self, feeling punched in the gut every time the world shows its ugly face. And excuse me for being so disillusioned as to think I could do something about it. At least I know now that I might as well not try--that nothing any brainless twit could do could ever turn this place into something worth living in. So my comment has changed from "fight selfishness!" to "gah selfishness." it's called resignation. Current Mood: aaa... (11 heads | Laugh your head off)
Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
9:25 pm	I feel like I'm sacrificing my self to the world. Not myself, but my self. It's hard to explain to someone who's not inside my head, though. So many things are that way. Like a plug. In my head. You know, I can physically feel it sometimes? I think people have mistaken it. The lump in my throat may be correlated with crying, but it's only really caused by that plug. They say you can only do the best you can do, and that no one can ask anything more of you. Which is true, technically. But what they say doesn't actually apply if you don't feel like you are doing your best. The thing you don't tell anyone. I am two people--one wants so much to be outstanding and vibrant and successful--the other doesn't want to exist. Why should I be part of a world that disgusts me so much? And no one else. AUGH so many things I would say but for the adolescence they would imply (6 heads | Laugh your head off)
Sunday, April 10th, 2005
10:11 pm	All I want is a hug that lasts for eternity. Is that too much to ask? (8 heads | Laugh your head off)
Monday, February 21st, 2005
12:42 am	Latter Ilk There are two kinds of posts. First are the kind used to relate information to friends--second are those used to just put something into words; type it into a place you can keep it. This would be the latter ilk; therefore don't feel obligated to comment. If you had to describe my mood in a word, you'd use 'worthless.' However, the word seems to negatively connotated to use alone. Hence the entire paragraph instead of one word. I feel completely inconsequential to the world around me. As if nothing I did could ever make a difference anywhere. I am a leech, sucking the blood of human life. For I do nothing. I see things and want to change them, but I don't. I'm just like any other person on this planet; just another person who notices something wrong yet keeps walking, thinking it's not my business; it doesn't affect me; whatever excuse I can give myself to keep from awkward situations. Sometimes I'm so optimistic about the world. Half the time this race seems redeemable, despite the fact that its true character is too disgusting to be viewed without nauseating the viewer. But the other half of the time, it all just seems too large. Too pointless--for me to work so hard to draw my sword--just to zoom out and realize I'm preparing to fight something that makes it look like a toothpick. I want to do things with myself, improve my life, but I don't. I'm just like any other person in this solar system; too lazy to do more than the bare minimum. I do what I absolutely have to do; then sit back and say "I've done what I must, I deserve a break..." then sit and rot for as long as it takes until something else appears that I absolutely must do. Then I complain about all the stress and all the demands I have. I say one thing and do another. I'm just like any other person in the universe; dramaticizing everything to an absurd degree, as long as I'm not looking anyone in the face. If I do, it all just crumbles. You ask me about anything I say here, I guarantee it'll be like it never happened. Like all those people at the end of The Raiders of the Lost Ark... how they all turn to dust... these words will do the same if I am confronted. I hate being fake. I hate switching back and forth between my just-like-everybody-else actions and my real, desired actions. Except those ones aren't actions. Because I've forgotten how to show those colors. I hate making these stupid analogies and writing like a stupid teenager--I hate making stupid stupid references to leeches or swords or stupid indiana jones movies. I hate all the stupid, juvenile metaphors I make that make me just like everyone else. And I hate not living what I feel. Not changing the things I say I'll change, not doing the things I say I'll do, or even saying and standing by what I believe is true. I can feel it right now. Tomorrow, this will all be lost. And I'll want to ignore it all, just like I ignored the comment I made on my last post, just like I ignored all of these stupid, pointless, depressing posts that I've made.... just like I ignored all of the calls to action I've made. Completely dropped them. I can't decide if the ideas I come up with in cyber-space can survive in the real world. I can't decide if the ideas I come up with whenever I'm not just-like-everybody-else can ever stand when I am just-like-everybody-else. And now I recognise another fluctuation. This is not a post of the Latter Ilk. This is a Former Ilk post. Latter ilk posts are made when I'm just-like-everybody-else; like I was when I started typing. This has become a more optimistic, almost a call-to-action post. Because I've been in cyber space for an hour now. Mind you, come tomorrow morning, I'll be just like everyone else again. Current Mood: nauseated (8 heads | Laugh your head off)
Sunday, February 20th, 2005
12:48 am	okeeaaayyy..... So I can eat more now.(shh, don't tell my stomach lining) Which is generally happy for my body and my mind. And four day weekends after two day weeks don't do any harm, either. I'm generally good on the surface. I think the last sentences of my updates usually state a random, surfacing desire I have at that moment. That said, I really feel like slow dancing right now. To Frank Sinatra or Hank Williams. (3 heads | Laugh your head off)