Saturday, March 26, 2011

Postcard without a picture from Boston!

Hey everybody! No this isn't a planned post. Right now I'm using one of the computers at my hotel in Boston. Er, Cambridge, but technically Boston. I'm sorry I've been so outta touch email-wise and comment-wise! As soon as I get home I'm gonna write back to all of you guys, but for now, hey, I'm in Boston! Er, Cambridge!

Boston is a pretty cool place. I absolutely adore that farmer's market sort of by the North End. I think it's by Government Center or whatever it's called. But anyway, it's awesome. I went into this little Arabic fish place and the guy selling the fish arranged it for me to take a picture, which I'd show you guys but it's on my phone and my phone is SAFELY in my room and I'm too lazy to go up and get it. But the point here is that I TOTALLY felt like Rick Steves going down there and bonding with da locals. So yeah. That was the highlight of my trip so far. That and when I caught my dad reading a children's chapter book in the Harvard book store. Which I also have a picture of. Which is on my phone.

So I'll see you guys soon, and like the Bostoners say... uh... bye!
NOTE: I'm trying to comment on all of your blogs now on this crappy computer!! I'm sorry if I don't get to all of you, and if I don't it's because I ran to my hotel room to get Purell, because this keyboard is grossssss.
p.s. some of you guys asked where I got that picture in the last post. the answer is i found it whilst stalking the telegraph website for royal wedding news. you can't get reliable wedding news in the states!

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Why Everybody Should Watch the Royal Wedding

Bonjour mes amis! 
Whaaaaat? I'm prepping for my far, far, far off trip to France! Or as the French would say... uh... France.
So I've been pondering a lot about life lately. About war, the Red Cross, and how I can get myself over to the nearest Urban Outfitters. And this is the result of my pondering: 
It's England's royal family in knit-form. 

As you guys probably know, England is having another Royal Wedding. I don't know if that's a proper noun or not, but whatevs. Anyway, when I heard about there being another Royal Wedding I was stoked. All throughout my life the women in my family talked about Princess Di's wedding, and now it was my turn to see a Royal Wedding live. 

But, upon further inspection, I found out the wedding is on a FRIDAY! And due to the time difference, I'll still be in school and won't be able to see the wedding! My friends and I were pretty mad. So, I decided to use my middle school government powers (yeah no) and put a notice about this on our email conference.

Hey guys!! I hope everybody's spring break is going well!!

Well you guys have probably heard about the Royal Wedding in England. When Princess Diana got married in the 80's, everybody here in the US watched it live, even though it was probably early in the day. And since this is the Princess Diana wedding of our time, there's no way we can miss it. 

The wedding is on Friday April 29th. A royal wedding is a once in a lifetime experience, and there's no way we can miss it for Latin class or something. Not that I'm saying Latin isn't important, but I can assure you guys that Mrs. Morris would so rather watch this wedding then teach us how to conjugate verbs, loving everything British. And there's been so much bad news lately, from Libya civil war to the Japanese tsunami, I think we should celebrate something that is universally happy. 

I propose that instead of having clubs on Friday, we have a middle school assembly in the morning and watch the wedding. 

It sounds really stupid and pretentious, right? But I was practically scribbling the last part on the computer because I had to run out the door to go shopping with my mom. 

But my thought is that because there's so much bad news lately, from Libya to the tsunami, that we should celebrate this wedding. A Royal Wedding is something that everybody, people from all walks of life, can bond over. People still talk about Princess Di's wedding here. A wedding is universal and unites people.

In my opinion, the monarchy wastes taxpayer's money, and I'm glad that we don't have one here. I mean, if the royals gave up a couple of their castles and turned them into public museums, England would save so much moolah! I'm probably speaking out of turn though, being an American and all (Question for the Brits: Do you like having a monarchy?). 
But the royalty is loved not only by Brits but Americans, me included, and is a  time-honored tradition. Like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof would say TRADITIOOOOOON! and that tradition brings people together. That's why we have tradition (ok, too many show tune references here). And for the time during the wedding, the whole world can watch it together. 
I do NOT want to miss this for Latin class. 
What do you guys think? Is the Royal Wedding a good thing or a bad thing? What do you guys think about monarchies? 
p.s. i'm off to Boston tomorrow!! see ya soon!!

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Curly Returns/ Alexa Chung Hair/ Operation Odyssey Dawn

Heyyyyy gurrrlfriendssss!! And, uh, boyfriendssss...!!
I've been doing nothing these past couple of days, unless Parks and Recreation watching, food shopping, tennis playing, and lusting/stalking counts as "doing" something.

Moreover, today Frankie had a tennis match, and guess who he played?

It was Another Awkward Moment for the List of Awkward Moments in which I keep in a Secret Place In My Room, and it should get the top prize or something. Frankie played him on a court that we couldn't see from the windows in the lobby, so my parents and I went down to the court, and there he was, with his Julius Caesar-esque locks. I was practically sitting on my phone so he couldn't see it. 

In other news, I'm going to get a haircut tomorrow and I really want to spice it up. I'm thinking of going for an Alexa Chung-esque chop. I desperately need a change to prevent myself from looking too much like Ugly Betty since I'll be adding glasses to my face soon which along with braces and zits which I already have, I'll have all the ingredients for the Ugly Betty look. So, uh, thoughts?
I'm pretty much for everything about Operation Odyssey Dawn, except for the name, which sounds like it was pulled straight out of a Nancy Drew book or something. Or maybe the Babysitter's Club.

I like the idea of not using land forces against Quaddafi or Khadaffa whatever his name is. Using land forces, in my opinion, is a whole other level of warfare due to the fact that you're actually in that country instead of soaring over it. You're more in the lives of the people there, for good and bad, and that makes it harder to leave. It's easier not to land. Nice analogy, huh?
What do you guys think about Operation Odyssey Dawn? And land forces vs. air forces? And should I go for the Alexa Chung chop? Wow, that question really didn't fit in this context.
p.s. hey guys guess who has a blog now! APG! check it out broskis!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Grand Theft iPhone: I Was a Victim of Crime, Part 2



I unhugged my knees as my dad drove up to the police department. With newfound determination, I jabbed my fingers down at the red button which released my seatbelt, and after wincing in pain, I opened the car door. I hopped out of the car and leapt over the guardrail like a Bond-less Bond girl. Without looking back to see if my dad was behind me, and stormed up to front stoop of the building, but then returned like a lost puppy to my dad's side.
This picture is random. But in an Inception-esque confusing way, it's essential.
Ok... since it's Wednesday and tomorrow is Thursday and Friday comes after, I'm having a leetle trouble getting this out of the ole' memory box...
We walked into the empty lobby, which was pretty bare and sterile except for a few plaques on the wall and a glass case with a police uniform on it. After explaining our situation to the officer at the front desk, he asked for our information and gave me a sheet of paper and told me to write down what happened, but then my dad just took the job over which diminished my crime-fighing responsibilities to a minimum.  Soon another cop came out, Officer Super (my mommy and I made this alias up). My dad told him the complete story while I remained there bobbing my head awkwardly. Officer Super told us that he would go down there tonight and call my dad if he "retrieved the phone," but he said it with his poker face, so I couldn't tell if he was optimistic about it or not.

"It's in a blue case," I said, so he'd know which one. "And when you slide it open the background has a picture of a car and says 'Car Wash' on it--"
"Ok, Jen, he doesn't need to know all that," said my dad all-knowingly.
"But what if--"
"Thank you for your help," my dad said.
"Thanks," I said also.

We then walked out of the office. It was dark and the street lamps gave off the waxy yellow glow that made me feel like I was Batman in Gotham City and I was going to go stop the Green Goblin or something. Or wait, is that Spiderman? But anyway, I wasn't Batman. I wasn't Spiderman. I had let my iPhone, one of the most important things I own, get stolen. I'm so stupid! I'm so stupid! I'm so--

"It's ok Jen," my dad said, patting me on the back. "It's just a phone. You learned a lesson."
"I'm so sorry!" I moaned/said. "I'm so, so, so, so--"
I jumped. A police dog in a car was barking at me.
I sighed, feeling pretty awful and dumb.
Woe is me.

My mom and brother greeted me home with big hugs and comfort food, mac n' cheese and Mexican dip (not together). But unlike usual, I couldn't swallow. I was still shaking from standing outside at Curly's house and disappointment with myself. But then the phone rang.

"Hello?" my mom answered. "Yes this is she..."
A couple seconds of conversation came to this: "Oh you have the phone? [LL Cool Talk] took it?"

Then my dad's phone rang. It was Officer Super. "Uh huh... Beautiful. Thank you!" 
My mom looked at me and smiled. "The phone!"
I smiled back, with a wave of relief coming over me. The phone! It's back! WHOAMAWHOAMA!!

My mom continued her conversation. It turned out to be Curly's dad she was talking to, who was telling her that Curly had nothing to do with it. It was supposedly all LL Cool Talk. LL Cool Talk and Curly were cousins, not brothers. "No we don't want to press charges, we just want the phone back."

When my dad met Officer Super to get the phone, he told my dad that he had to threaten to arrest LL Cool Talk until he would hand it over. 

Soon the phone was back in my hands and I was playing Doodle Jump, after disinfecting it and throwing away my beloved blue case. But the whole concept of it being stolen, actually stolen, hasn't settled in me yet. The fact that some teenagers', some people's for that matter, moral compasses seem to point due south shocks me. Sure, he probably took my phone for some cash and stuff, but still. It was mine. I got it for my birthday from my parents. And he just took it just like that. Huh. 
I'm just glad I have it back. 
What about you guys? Have you ever been robbed? How do you feel about robbers and the whole concept of stealing from others? 
p.s. all the pictures in this mini series, excluding the one of the model falling, i pulled from sites and edited on picnik. if yo was curious.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Grand Theft iPhone: I Was a Victim of Crime, Part 1

Now the rest of the story... well, uh, my phone was stolen. And this is the epic recollection of what happened Sunday night that I can't believe at all. What I learned: Robbers are real. And they will steal your iPhone.

Let's state the facts. Well, I'll state the facts because you weren't there and you don't know what happened, hmm, I don't know why I say "let's" all the time...

  1. was robbed.
  2. was the victim of organized crime. Or at least it was organized to me.
  3. filed a police report.
  4. got my phone back from the police.

Ok, so last night I had a tennis match. I was summoned (ooh I used a scary word, that means this is a scary story, I need a campfire) to play doubles with my friend. Then one of the boys from the other team,  a short curly haired boy (I'll call him Curly) had to leave early. On his way out, he passed the bench where I hid my phone in a pocket in Frankie's puffy vest to gather his stuff. Or I assumed he was gathering his stuff.

Then the whole match was over and it was time to go home, so I went to the bench to get my phone and my water bottle. And low and behold, my blue-case-wearing phone was MIA! Gone! Lost! Missing! Hasta la vista! Wait...what?

Soon my whole team, my coach, and the other coach were calling my phone and searching for it around the club. Dontcha love teamwork? And before you knew it, my dad was down on the court looking for my phone too, fuming like the Little Engine Who Could. Dontcha love when parents get mad at you?

I had a feeling, a little inkling feeling, that Curly took my phone. Why? I don't know. But the Sherlock Holmes inside of me was convinced Curly took my phone. But luckily my dad had a TGFSJ moment (Thank God for Steve Jobs): He used the Mobile Me app to track my phone and make sure it was still in the building. Which it wasn't... oh whoops! Spoiler!

Guess where my phone was? I'll give you a hint: It was not at the tennis courts.
Everything was a mess after that. How could I be so stupid to let this happen?? My dad was mad, my mom was mad, my brother was playing Doodle Jump. Oh, how I longed to play Doodle Jump.

So here's the crime-busting solution we put into action: We went to where the phone was tracked to.  My dad and I drove there with the other team's coach and his daughter driving behind us. Soon we roared off the interstate and pulled up in a quiet, dark, sketchy-ish neighborhood that backed up to the super-sized gasoline tanks that banked the river. My dad leapt out of the car and I followed him, galloping to keep up. It was a twisted Dora the Explorer scavenger hunt: my dad was Dora, following Map which was his phone, and the coach, his daughter and I were Boots.

Dora led us up a driveway where there was a minivan with the doors open parked haphazardly and a giant tennis bag lying besides it. I gulped. We knocked on the back door, and... well, Curly was there...

Here comes the worst part of the story. AKA the lowest point of my whole existence.

The whole family came outside. People were yelling at each other, and they kept denying everything, saying that they checked their bags and didn't have my phone, or at least they didn't know where it was. Curly's older brother or something, a teenage boy who was at the match but wasn't playing (aka LL Cool Talk), was reciting a  speech for us that he probably had said a million times before: "I understand your frustration, but we don't know how else to help you." My dad was beginning to lose it. Obviously they had my phone, seeing that we were led right to their house, but they weren't going to fess up. They were lying straight through their teeth.

The darkness was settling in with a splatter of pink across the sky, and the skyscrapers across the river lit up leisurely one window at a time. The family was furious and annoyed. I had never felt more uncomfortable in my life. We decided to call it.

The coach apologized to us and told us that one of his team members was missing a phone. Curly wasn't even one of his players; he was just filling in for someone. We returned to our car, with Curly's mom's number stashed in my dad's phone.

After consulting with my mom on the phone, we started the next leg of our iPhone-hunting quest: we went to the police.
And I filed a police report.
p.s. I'm on spring break, so that's why I'm writing this now.
p.p.s. I'm holding a contest where you submit your most embarrassing/hilarious moments and my friends and I vote on the funniest!! Check out the Operation: Humiliation tab at the top for more info!!

Monday, March 7, 2011

It's About How You Play the Game: TRUE DAT

Tennis is kinda like golf. It's associated with being fartsy and stuffy and for the elderly only. But in reality, tennis is BAM! BAM! SLICE! VOLLEY! [golf clap] Even though tennis is a really exciting sport, there are still places in Connecticut where it's all frooty tooty and stuck up.

Today I had a tennis match, and my team played one of the frooty tooty stuck up teams. My team is second or third in the USTA rankings (yeah BOO YAH!), and unfortch for us, we played the number one team. And they creamed us into cannoli. And even more unfortch for me, I had to play the sidekick-to-my-arch-enemy-since-second-grade. Yeah. Not fun.

This girl drives me bonkers. She wears all white like they do at Wimbledon, and even worse, her skirt has pleats. Yeah. PLEATS. It especially drives me bonkers when she is returning serve and hopping up and down like the Easter Bunny Rabbit. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have bothered me (you can't always judge people by their sartorial choices), but this girl is just really mean and snippy. Just plain old rude.
If she was nicer and treated me with respect, I wouldn't mentally make fun of her wardrobe preferences. But she doesn't treat me with respect, and when people don't treat me with respect, I don't treat them with respect. Which doesn't follow the whole treat-people-how-you-would-like-to-be-treated philosophy, but... oh pish posh.

Operation: Annoyance is something I pull out of the ole' hippocampus only once and a while. It's for those times when someone is not showing any respect or decency (check), is acting really snippy and rude towards me (check), and is hitting the tennis ball really hard at you so you can serve it after they lost a point to you (check).

Operation: Annoyance was working out pretty well: I was walking slowly to my spot before the point started to catch my breath, which drove her crazy-ish, and I acted overly-nice. I learned from the master (my mom) that that's how to really annoy people. And I was playing pretty well too, which was the only thing that mattered.

But then, something hit me, like I was boxing against Apollo Creed with a magical Disney-esque twist: the point of sports is to try your best, not to purposefully annoy your opponent. I should focus more on playing my best instead of being a meanie poo.

So I served the first game of the second set, and with my new determination, I won that game 40-zip! YEAH!

I lost the match, but it didn't bother me that much, because I played really well. And my motto when it comes to sports is, "It's not about how you win, but about how you play the game." TRUE DAT.
What about you guys? How do you deal with mean girls? What do you think matters more in sports?

Saturday, March 5, 2011

To Wear a Bikini Or to Not Wear a Bikini

Sorry for the lack of posts... me is busy....
Basketball season has ended, and for the past week my team has been doing GE (general exercise for you new followers) with the GE kids and the wrestling boys, which has been fun (anything's better than running around the gym screaming, "Outlet! Outlet! Out-- HOLY MOLY I'M OPEN!!!").

On Tuesday we found out that we were going to go swimming with the boys in the school pool, so of course that sent all of us girls into a frenzy. "Can we wear bikinis????" "I don't have a one-piece!!" "Screw it, I'm gonna wear a bikini!!"

Ok, well, I don't have a one-piece. So that left me with only a bikini to wear.... in the school pool. So you're probably wondering, what's the big deal? Well, I just wouldn't be comfortable wearing only a bikini with the boys, and the teachers, indoors, when there's still some snow on the ground. Just... no. Ew. And my mom understood this,  so on Wednesday night we went on a seemingly simple trip to Kohl's to purchase a one piece. Yeah, it wasn't so simple.
It turned out to be a cross-county nightmare.

Instead of going into details of how hard it was to find a cute one-piece bathing suit at 7:30 pm in the end of winter, I'm going to fast-forward ahead to Thursday morning.

(that was me fast-forwarding)
 This is how busy the hallway is in between classes... and no I didn't take this picture in between somebody's legs, on the right is Tyty's boot and on the left is... who knows.

In the morning everybody was excited. "Jen, choose one," my friend Lee said, brandishing her cell phone. "Which one should I wear?" She showed me two pictures of her in different bikinis. I chose one, and my mind flashed back to my new "tankini" in my locker, and I felt like a prude. More like a 1940's synchronized swimmer.
This is the pool before anybody jumped in (note: my school wasted tons of moolah on this when they could have used it to refurbish the middle school building! POTATOES!)

Flash forward to going swimming, and it was fun! And I was so comfy in my TANKini! I wouldn't have been comfortable in a bikini, and I'm glad I made the right choice, even though the other girls (Marg, Jing, Tyty and I excluded) wore bikinis.
I just did NOT want to wear a bikini. I'm not against wearing bikinis in the summertime, with my friends, outside at the pool or beach, but wearing a bikini to gym, to school seemed inappropriate to me. "Bikini" is associated with summer and boys and attractiveness, and I did not want that when I was diving off the diving board with all of the teachers there.
What do you guys think about bikinis? Would you have been comfortable wearing a bikini?