As I am concluding my first year in high-school I can’t help but ponder that the closer I get to the end of the year, the harder I seem to be sprinting to meet its inevitable end.
This year I have been keeping up a steady rhythm of co-curriculars, good grades, a social life, and sleep. I having gotten into a pattern of wake up, eat, go to school, go to class, go home, eat dinner, do homework, sleep, and repeat. It has gotten to the monotonous point of feeling as though I am jogging, keeping up enough momentum to propel myself forward while not overextending myself.
This has been my daily life, and now as I am concluding my finals, I am sprinting to the end, the conclusion of a marathon. But as this thought entered my brain, another more exhausting thought took its place. What if I am not running a marathon but taking part in a triathlon?
As I thought more about similarities between my current and later high-school situation and a triathlon, the shocking realization arrived that although summer may be a major checkpoint, it’s just the end of a marathon and the start of a triathlon. I now will rest because I have an even harder race ahead. Until next year, I bid you adieu.
With Mother’s Day around the corner I want to talk about the deeds moms do daily. Mothers — everybody has one. In the United States we have an entire day honoring them.
Some are great, some aren’t. I have an exceptional one.
My mother is someone I could talk about for pages and only scrape the surface of all the things she does. I will take you through her day. She wakes up at 6:15 in the morning so she can pack lunch for me and my brother, wake us up and make us breakfast all before 7:30 am. After dropping my brother and then me off at school, she goes grocery shopping. She then goes home, puts away the groceries, and loads the laundry into the washer.
As the laundry is running in the washer she cleans the kitchen, cleaning the mess from breakfast. She then gets a well-deserved break but even while she relaxes for those precious few minutes she is cutting coupons, doing taxes, paying bills, or folding laundry depending on the day.
Then it is time for lunch, after which she prepares food for my father who has many eating restrictions. She then cleans another room of our eternally messy home, reschedules doctor appointments to avoid’ extra-curriculars, puts dinner in the oven, and is right there waiting to meet me at carpool at 4:45. And that is only 10 ½ hours of her day.
I won’t even go into what happens after I get home.
All I have to say is that on Mother’s Day, do something express your gratitude towards your mom, your family superhero.
Sunday, April 15, 2012 — today I guess since it is a little past midnight – is my last day of freedom before my final quarter in my first year of high school.
Over Pesach break I have been home spending quality time (otherwise known as too many hours in close quarters) with my family. During this short vacation I have completely wrecked my internal clock, gotten a stomach ache (actually a colon ache) from eating too much matzoh), and watched my baby brother put on Teffilin for the first time.
To be clear, he isn’t literally my baby brother – especially since he has been taller than me for longer than I’d care to admit – but he is the youngest in my family. I have tormented him and kidded with him for my entire life. We have been mistaken for twins more times than I can remember and I am the cause for many of his injuries (although not on purpose).
So as I say a tearful goodbye to my time off and my brother’s childhood, I am left with an abdominal ache and a thought: why are we celebrating? He won’t be able to drive for the next four years.
I will start off by saying I am short. On second thought I will say I am tiny! I have been the shortest child in my class since pre-pre-first or kindergarten or whatever you want to call it. I am now the shortest person in my entire high-school, by at least three inches.
I have numerous stories I wouldn’t have otherwise if not for my height. For instance, when I was seven someone mistook me for a two-year-old. Even now as I meet people and I tell them my age and what grade I am in they either roll their eyes, scoff, or apologize for speaking to me in an exceedingly degrading way.
Also, until I was eight years old I couldn’t even fit on the teacups at Knotts Berry Farm.
Of course there are plus sides to being miniscule. For instance I used to always win at hide-and-go-seek. Also, the Guess Your Age games at amusement parks I still win 95 percent of the time.
I obviously don’t enjoy being looked down on (and I mean that quite literally), but I believe it is just a small matter, and one that can easily be used to my advantage.
Over the past three days, I have gotten progressively more, more and more bored to the point of me actually wanting to be in school. It is funny because I know that being bored is slightly irrational, since there is a plethora of things I could be doing right now.
I could for instance be practicing my Urdu: Aadab aap ka Rina naam hay. Or I could be going over some material I learned over the past semester to stay fresh.
Cleaning my bedroom is a viable option, considering it looks like hurricane KatRina hit it. I really am not joking about that because my windowsill is leaking water all over my room and it is slightly flooded. Right now I could even be writing my English essay.
But I have chosen not to do a single one of those things. I am not exactly sure why, but instead I am heartily enjoying venting to my invisible audience. So I thank you as I bid you adieu.
Finally it is break! I have been working double-time waiting for this time off. I am finished with the play. I now have one glorious week to spend doing nothing except homework, two projects, studying for three tests, and starting work for finals. But I will have some time to enjoy myself — plus the fact that we have another vacation in under a month. I know I am going in circles but I wanted to voice my thanks for the time I have.
So thank you, administration for these 691,200 minutes.
Hallway talk, or what do Shalhevet students really talk about?
When walking through the halls of Shalhevet whether between classes or during lunch you will hear the students and teachers talking to one another. The normal topics of discussion are homework, tests, food, quizzes, crushes, clothes, music, nuclear proliferation, friends, and teachers.
Wait — nuclear proliferation?
Yes, you read right. Last week the Model Congress and Model United Nations teams were having tryouts. The topic up for debate was nuclear proliferation, an interesting subject to be hearing while eating.
We discussed whether or not all countries should be allowed to have nuclear power. Some said yes, everyone should have the chance to have this outstanding power source. Others believed that countries should not be allowed this potentially world-devastating weapon.
Even one week later you can still hear the remnants of this topic in the halls. For instance, today in Mr. Frankel’s class we were learning about the epic nuclear accident right here in Simi Valley in 1959 and its effect on the population in the present day.
All in all, tryouts were a huge success. I was one of 53 students to try out for these extraordinary teams. Unfortunately I didn’t make the cut but I hope to try again next year.
So the next time you are walking through the halls, listen in. You might learn something, whether it be the principal’s favorite color or why Israel is not part of the NPT (nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty).