". . . providing it is a cheerful lie."

I know, as a teenage girl in 2018, it’s kind of weird how much I like crocheting and knitting. I first learned how to crochet in first grade, and knitting before that. Neither were my main pastime, but I nevertheless accumulated several skeins of yarn, a couple crochet hooks, and knitting and sewing needles. During elementary school, there was a needlework club which I occasionally attended. I didn’t know much besides the basics of knitting, and I knew even less for crocheting, but I was comfortable with what I did know, and that put me ahead most of my classmates skill-wise. There was no needlework club at Franklin Middle School. I didn’t knit or crochet as much. Once in a blue moon, I remembered my yarn basket in the back of my closet. Then I came to Uni. I barely even thought about knitting or crocheting. I rediscovered my abandoned knitting projects only a couple times over those years, adding a couple rows before forgetting them again. This year, Ms. Smyser taught beginner’s c

I don’t watch many TV shows. I think the last time I watched something on Netflix was in December, and before that, sometime early fall. It’s not that I don’t like TV. In fact, I have a list of 50+ shows that I mean to watch at a time I nebulously label ‘someday’. But nothing makes me feel the waste of time more acutely than television. I can’t bring myself to turn it on because I’m immediately reminded of all the things I have to do. That Netflix logo makes me feel like the laziest bum in the world. But I still need some sort of entertainment. How else would I procrastinate? I’m more susceptible to YouTube than to Netflix, but it poses the same problem. It’s hard to hit the off-switch. You can just keep watching, and it’s hard to multitask while watching a video, so you end up doing nothing productive. I also enjoy knitting and crocheting, but they are the worst possible forms of entertainment if you’re trying to also do your homework. They occupy your hands, so you can’t do much

PROMPT: What kind of robot would you like? I'm at 480 words. I should probably add some more reflection, but I don't know where... I didn't want to ramble too much about Star Wars. Feedback/ideas? ---- If I could have any robot, ever, I would totally have a droid from Star Wars. I suppose an astromech droid like R2-D2 would be the most practical. However, in my heart of hearts, I would want HK-47. He’s so cool, and also hilarious. Except HK-47 is also an evil assassin droid who wants to kill basically everyone (the title of this blog post is a quote from him), so I’d only want him if he definitely wouldn’t murder me. If I’m being totally realistic, I don’t know what I’d do with him. I have the feeling that he’d get fed up with my normal life, and want to kill people instead. In reality, I would want the opposite of a droid from Star Wars. My ideal robot would not look humanoid, and would have little to no personality. Robots are basically in your complete servi

Eavesdropping is usually unintentional for me. I’ll be at home and then in the next room I’ll hear my parents say my name, so I’ll sneak over and ask, my tone making it clear that I already know the answer, “What are you talking about?” Similarly, at school, if I happen to be sitting near some loudly gossipping people, I’ll listen (and more often than not I don’t have earbuds on me, so I can’t block it out anyway), but if I see some people talking down the hall I won’t sidle down to listen. It’s too much effort. Basically, I only listen if the people are making no attempt to hide it. And if they're NOT talking about me. Fifth graders are especially terrible at being subtle. When I was eleven, I was walking through the classroom when I noticed that three boys were around my desk. They were joking about how my desk smelled like various Asian foods; noodles are the only ones I remember. I think that counts as me eavesdropping. Eavesdropping, after all, is just listening to people

Particularly in elementary school, my younger brother Ben was into Nerf guns. I liked them too - though not as much as he did - and would sometimes play with him. However, I found it a bit annoying how infrequently he dealt with the aftermath. The foam bullets would litter the floor. I would keep finding them in my room or under the kitchen table, just lying there. I would tell him to pick them up, and after a lot of pestering, he might. Actually, that in itself wasn’t so big of a deal. I didn’t mind that much - like I said, it was only a ‘bit annoying’. Overall, my brother and I get along quite well. We played together and still consider each other friends. Like many younger siblings, though, my brother has made it his personal mission to infuriate me. Now that we’re older, and we can have good conversations, I recently asked him why he tries to annoy me when he knows I don’t like it (and that I’ll probably hit him for it). In response, he said, genuinely, and a little perplexed, “I d

When the college mail was starting for me, back in sophomore year, I received a black envelope with my name and address written on it in silver faux handwriting. Other Uni students probably received it as well. It invited me to join the Congress of Future Science and Technology Leaders, which cost $985. The most hilarious part was when it said it was inviting me because of my “outstanding academic achievement” and “determination to serve humanity in the field of science and technology". I never and still don’t consider myself to be particularly skilled or passionate in most STEM fields. A prime example of this is how, like a lot of kids, I didn’t enjoy math. It was something boring to do in elementary school and middle school, and something tedious and frustrating in high school. My grades stayed fine, but my feelings toward the subject soured. In freshman year I took Math 2 and was, at best, tolerating it. Sophomore year was a bit better, but also the most frustrating. Sometime

When someone asks a hypothetical such as, "What do you think it'd be like if you were born 100 years ago?" my mind immediately goes in a weird direction.  How would that even work?  I wonder. Presumably, you have the same parents, or you could be a very different person and then there'd be no point to the prompt. And presumably, you have the same grandparents or else your parents (and you) could be very different people. And presumably, you have the same great-grandparents . . . So which ancestors do you delete, and how do you know it won't affect your development as a human being? Do you even get to make that decision? W here do those 100 years come from? "It'd suck to not have modern medicine," I manage. I know it's not obvious, but I promise, I'm technically writing this blog post in response to a class prompt. Specifically, this one:  Do you wish you could return to a moment in your past?  I gave some proper answers, of course. But I

This Is A Nonfiction Writing Blog Now

I'm sure I wasn't alone in noticing similarities between Song of Solomon and Wide Sargasso Sea , not just in the characters but also the themes. I think perhaps the most obvious parallel is between Pilate and Christophine. They both seem to have supernatural powers, and even give another character a love potion. But besides that, they also fulfill similar roles in the books. Both act as a sort of mother figure to the main character, in the place of the main character's weaker biological mother. They also are at odds with the male figure trying to 'take away' the main character, whether Macon or Rochester. I especially found this interesting since we briefly discussed in class the potential racism of putting Christophine in a caretaker role. There are of course differences between the two characters. Pilate just has more autonomy, probably because she lives in a predominantly black environment that white people rarely intrude on (versus Christophine being constant

The love potion-drug that Antoinette gives to Rochester symbolizes the larger incompatibility of West Indies and colonialist British cultures. First, Antoinette tries to use obeah magic on Rochester, a British man. This attempted crossover between the two cultures ultimately fails. Rochester even describes it as "poison". This failure happens because they are fundamentally incompatible: Rochester is the colonist, and the obeah magic comes from those who were colonized. As Christophine puts it, "it's too strong for beke". This failure also occurs, though, because Antoinette does not belong to either culture. As Christophine says to Rochester, Antoinette is "not beke like you, but . . . beke, and not like us either". Thus, when she tries to use obeah magic, she fails, because she is not truly Jamaican; when she tries to connect to Rochester, she fails, because she is not truly English. Additionally, Antoinette and Rochester's main relationship is