Tuesday, September 30, 2003
dan: *writing* ...as a result of doing this exploration, i learned that the chain rule rules!
emily: hey dan, i thought you ruled.
dan: well... you see, we have this system of checks and balances going.
emily: *grin*
posted by emily oi! at 6:38:00 PM
0 comments
dan: *writing* ...as a result of doing this exploration, i learned that the chain rule rules!
emily: hey dan, i thought you ruled.
dan: well... you see, we have this system of checks and balances going.
emily: *grin*
posted by emily oi! at 6:38:00 PM
0 comments
Sunday, September 28, 2003
every once in a while, i surprise myself and take nice pictures.
. . .
i was, once again, turned down for a part in the school play, two rooms. my congratulations do, however, go to robert jones on his being casted.
. . .
the afternoon stores in hold college application essays, research workbook, and extended essay research, but at least it will be spend in the company (mutual nosetothegrindstoning) of a friend.
posted by emily oi! at 1:46:00 PM
0 comments
every once in a while, i surprise myself and take nice pictures.
. . .
i was, once again, turned down for a part in the school play, two rooms. my congratulations do, however, go to robert jones on his being casted.
. . .
the afternoon stores in hold college application essays, research workbook, and extended essay research, but at least it will be spend in the company (mutual nosetothegrindstoning) of a friend.
posted by emily oi! at 1:46:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, September 25, 2003
tonight i wrote my senior will.
. . .
I, Emily Joy Stetzer, have found at Rufus King, among the high standards and the high stress and the penultimate impatience of young blood, a body of students that is extraordinary and beautiful. It is to these people that I will the following words of Baha’u’llah:
“Be generous in prosperity, and thankful in adversity. Be worthy of the trust of thy neighbor, and look upon him with a bright and friendly face. Be a treasure to the poor, an admonisher to the rich, an answerer to the cry of the needy, a preserver of the sanctity of thy pledge. Be fair in thy judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be unjust to no man, and show all meekness to all men. Be as a lamp unto them that walk in darkness, a joy to the sorrowful, a sea for the thirsty, a haven for the distressed, an upholder and defender of the victim of oppression. Let integrity and uprightness distinguish all thine acts. Be a home for the stranger, a balm to the suffering, a tower of strength for the fugitive. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be an ornament to the countenance of truth, a crown to the brow of fidelity, a pillar of the temple of righteousness, a breath of life to the body of mankind, an ensign of the hosts of justice, a luminary above the horizon of virtue, a dew to the soil of the human heart, an ark on the ocean of knowledge, a sun in the heaven of bounty, a gem on the diadem of wisdom, a shining light in the firmament of thy generation, a fruit upon the tree of humility.”
My dear friends, thank you.
. . .
posted by emily oi! at 11:59:00 PM
0 comments
tonight i wrote my senior will.
. . .
I, Emily Joy Stetzer, have found at Rufus King, among the high standards and the high stress and the penultimate impatience of young blood, a body of students that is extraordinary and beautiful. It is to these people that I will the following words of Baha’u’llah:
“Be generous in prosperity, and thankful in adversity. Be worthy of the trust of thy neighbor, and look upon him with a bright and friendly face. Be a treasure to the poor, an admonisher to the rich, an answerer to the cry of the needy, a preserver of the sanctity of thy pledge. Be fair in thy judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be unjust to no man, and show all meekness to all men. Be as a lamp unto them that walk in darkness, a joy to the sorrowful, a sea for the thirsty, a haven for the distressed, an upholder and defender of the victim of oppression. Let integrity and uprightness distinguish all thine acts. Be a home for the stranger, a balm to the suffering, a tower of strength for the fugitive. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be an ornament to the countenance of truth, a crown to the brow of fidelity, a pillar of the temple of righteousness, a breath of life to the body of mankind, an ensign of the hosts of justice, a luminary above the horizon of virtue, a dew to the soil of the human heart, an ark on the ocean of knowledge, a sun in the heaven of bounty, a gem on the diadem of wisdom, a shining light in the firmament of thy generation, a fruit upon the tree of humility.”
My dear friends, thank you.
. . .
posted by emily oi! at 11:59:00 PM
0 comments
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
"what should i do after highschool?" i thought.
Ask the Oracle a Question
well, that's good enough for me.
posted by emily oi! at 5:46:00 PM
0 comments
"what should i do after highschool?" i thought.
| The Oracle Advises... |
becoming a hobo |
well, that's good enough for me.
posted by emily oi! at 5:46:00 PM
0 comments
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Sum up your opinion or impression of me in one word, leave it as a comment in this posting, and then post this sentence in your own journal.
posted by emily oi! at 8:38:00 PM
0 comments
Sum up your opinion or impression of me in one word, leave it as a comment in this posting, and then post this sentence in your own journal.
posted by emily oi! at 8:38:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, September 18, 2003
last april, i wrote this in an email to dan:
sometimes, dan. sometimes, i get a very strong premonition, nono. i get this feeling that i'm doing something very, very wrong. that there is an important task at hand that i am neglecting because i don't know what it is, or because i'm being made to do something else. that's when i get antsy, i think. and that is what manifests itself in strong declarations of my non-college intent.
would you think less of me if i didn't go?
would i?
it seems like time is racing by and if i don't start acting now.. if i keep learning and writing papers and attending class, then by the time i finish i'll be unable to do anything.
i know these are things i've said before, but i just keep thinking them.
maybe if i say them again, they'll be out.
it seems like time is racing by and if i don't start acting now.. if i keep learning and writing papers and attending class, then by the time i finish i'll be unable to do anything.
it seems like time is racing by and if i start acting now.. i'll be able to save .. something. i don't know what but if i don't start finding out right now it may never happen.
it seems like time is racing by but what if it's really not? the soul is immortal and will progress through all the worlds of God, growing infinitely closer and yet infinitely far away. physical life is important. the womb of the soul, yet to be born into the next world. i've only got eighty years of gestation left. maybe i have only months. this is nonsensical.
it seems like time is racing by and if i don't start acting now.. if i keep learning and writing papers and attending class, then by the time i finish i'll be unable to do everything.
i am finite.
maybe that is my new mantra for the pain.
gah, reading this makes me ill.
i still feel a pair of green-apple-candy roller skates would help.
why?
. . .
that is all.
posted by emily oi! at 11:22:00 PM
0 comments
last april, i wrote this in an email to dan:
sometimes, dan. sometimes, i get a very strong premonition, nono. i get this feeling that i'm doing something very, very wrong. that there is an important task at hand that i am neglecting because i don't know what it is, or because i'm being made to do something else. that's when i get antsy, i think. and that is what manifests itself in strong declarations of my non-college intent.
would you think less of me if i didn't go?
would i?
it seems like time is racing by and if i don't start acting now.. if i keep learning and writing papers and attending class, then by the time i finish i'll be unable to do anything.
i know these are things i've said before, but i just keep thinking them.
maybe if i say them again, they'll be out.
it seems like time is racing by and if i don't start acting now.. if i keep learning and writing papers and attending class, then by the time i finish i'll be unable to do anything.
it seems like time is racing by and if i start acting now.. i'll be able to save .. something. i don't know what but if i don't start finding out right now it may never happen.
it seems like time is racing by but what if it's really not? the soul is immortal and will progress through all the worlds of God, growing infinitely closer and yet infinitely far away. physical life is important. the womb of the soul, yet to be born into the next world. i've only got eighty years of gestation left. maybe i have only months. this is nonsensical.
it seems like time is racing by and if i don't start acting now.. if i keep learning and writing papers and attending class, then by the time i finish i'll be unable to do everything.
i am finite.
maybe that is my new mantra for the pain.
gah, reading this makes me ill.
i still feel a pair of green-apple-candy roller skates would help.
why?
. . .
that is all.
posted by emily oi! at 11:22:00 PM
0 comments
i don't know what ever persuaded me to get out those packing peanuts, but i seem to be building on them again.
posted by emily oi! at 9:33:00 PM
0 comments
Monday, September 15, 2003
today, someone left a slab of chocolate in my locker.
i ask to giver to please fess up and collect their hug.
posted by emily oi! at 4:28:00 PM
0 comments
today, someone left a slab of chocolate in my locker.
i ask to giver to please fess up and collect their hug.
posted by emily oi! at 4:28:00 PM
0 comments
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
my grandfather died in the night.
posted by emily oi! at 6:20:00 AM
0 comments
my grandfather died in the night.
posted by emily oi! at 6:20:00 AM
0 comments
Saturday, September 06, 2003
allie: i speak french and my parents don't understand me.
dan: i speak english and my parents dont understand me.
it was a lovely party.
posted by emily oi! at 10:52:00 PM
0 comments
allie: i speak french and my parents don't understand me.
dan: i speak english and my parents dont understand me.
it was a lovely party.
posted by emily oi! at 10:52:00 PM
0 comments
Thursday, September 04, 2003
let us close our eyes. bow our heads. for a world of inconspicuous beauty has been unwittingly destroyed.
the doors on the stalls in the first floor girl's lavatory at rufus king were loud. each door had a different squeak, a different pitch. some people might have found it annoying. undesirable. but that's only because they don't know how to play them.
played. these doors were an instrument to be played. like a giant glass harmonica, a floor-mat piano. but better. the bathroom has excellent acoustics.
the stalls only played one song. rhapsody in blue.
i discovered this last year. excusing myself from the tedium of ms miller's ib art class, and standing at the partially opened window, breathing sharp winter air. i turned back toward the long row of stalls, studying the colorful (in all senses) grafitti scribbled across them. the fifth door, exactly in the middle, had some especially creative phrases written in ballpoint pen, and i stepped forward, slowly opening the door to see if the tirade was continued on the inside.
i was startled by the sound the door's spring-loaded hinges emitted. it was a sound not just loud, but big. huge. as if it had expanded to reclaim the space normally occupied by rustling make-up cases and flushing toilets and towel loops being pulled into infinity. but it wasn't just that. it was a sound i knew, something so familiar i almost didn't recognize it as out of place. it was a long, rising, round sound. so similar to that first clarinet whoop in gershwin's rhapsody in blue that i let the door bang itself shut, staring at it suspiciously.
when no elves or goblins stepped forward to claim responsiblity, i began walking up and down the row of stalls, testing the doors. pushing them, at different speeds, in different orders. seventeen minutes later, red-faced and huffing, i sprinted up and down the row, opening the doors with what had now become expert jabs with the heel of my hand, their slamming as much a part of the melody as the squeaks. i rattled off the order in my head; fiveslow six fourfast threefast seven oneslow twofast nine one nine . . . from the hallway, it may have just sounded like noise, like slamming doors and unoiled hinges, but to me the music was perfect, reverberating against the marble walls and escaping through the partially opened window into the winter.
i returned shortly before dismissal, a sheen of sweat on my forehead and my breathing heavy. ms miller hadn't even noticed i was gone.
my trips to the bathroom during tenth period grew more and more frequent. dashing up and down, playing as much as i needed to . a few notes, a few bars, everything i could remember. long enough to remind myself of the beauty in all things. long enough to feel good again. and then washing my hands and returning to magic surrealism or sumi-e. a respite for the heart.
i returned to the bathroom today, smiling a little. i stepped up to the fifth door, which radiated familiarity. i gave it a slow push with the tips of my fingers, but was not met with the clarinet of my imagination. a little honk, like an broken trumpet. barely a squeak at all. i counted the doors. i read the graffiti. there was no mistake.
someone, some careless janitor, has "fixed" the hinges on the doors, ruining the most finely-tuned inadvertant musical instrument i have ever known.
that is why today, my friends, is a day of sorrow.
. . .
(the first two minutes of rhapsody in blue are streamable here)
posted by emily oi! at 8:10:00 PM
0 comments
let us close our eyes. bow our heads. for a world of inconspicuous beauty has been unwittingly destroyed.
the doors on the stalls in the first floor girl's lavatory at rufus king were loud. each door had a different squeak, a different pitch. some people might have found it annoying. undesirable. but that's only because they don't know how to play them.
played. these doors were an instrument to be played. like a giant glass harmonica, a floor-mat piano. but better. the bathroom has excellent acoustics.
the stalls only played one song. rhapsody in blue.
i discovered this last year. excusing myself from the tedium of ms miller's ib art class, and standing at the partially opened window, breathing sharp winter air. i turned back toward the long row of stalls, studying the colorful (in all senses) grafitti scribbled across them. the fifth door, exactly in the middle, had some especially creative phrases written in ballpoint pen, and i stepped forward, slowly opening the door to see if the tirade was continued on the inside.
i was startled by the sound the door's spring-loaded hinges emitted. it was a sound not just loud, but big. huge. as if it had expanded to reclaim the space normally occupied by rustling make-up cases and flushing toilets and towel loops being pulled into infinity. but it wasn't just that. it was a sound i knew, something so familiar i almost didn't recognize it as out of place. it was a long, rising, round sound. so similar to that first clarinet whoop in gershwin's rhapsody in blue that i let the door bang itself shut, staring at it suspiciously.
when no elves or goblins stepped forward to claim responsiblity, i began walking up and down the row of stalls, testing the doors. pushing them, at different speeds, in different orders. seventeen minutes later, red-faced and huffing, i sprinted up and down the row, opening the doors with what had now become expert jabs with the heel of my hand, their slamming as much a part of the melody as the squeaks. i rattled off the order in my head; fiveslow six fourfast threefast seven oneslow twofast nine one nine . . . from the hallway, it may have just sounded like noise, like slamming doors and unoiled hinges, but to me the music was perfect, reverberating against the marble walls and escaping through the partially opened window into the winter.
i returned shortly before dismissal, a sheen of sweat on my forehead and my breathing heavy. ms miller hadn't even noticed i was gone.
my trips to the bathroom during tenth period grew more and more frequent. dashing up and down, playing as much as i needed to . a few notes, a few bars, everything i could remember. long enough to remind myself of the beauty in all things. long enough to feel good again. and then washing my hands and returning to magic surrealism or sumi-e. a respite for the heart.
i returned to the bathroom today, smiling a little. i stepped up to the fifth door, which radiated familiarity. i gave it a slow push with the tips of my fingers, but was not met with the clarinet of my imagination. a little honk, like an broken trumpet. barely a squeak at all. i counted the doors. i read the graffiti. there was no mistake.
someone, some careless janitor, has "fixed" the hinges on the doors, ruining the most finely-tuned inadvertant musical instrument i have ever known.
that is why today, my friends, is a day of sorrow.
. . .
(the first two minutes of rhapsody in blue are streamable here)
posted by emily oi! at 8:10:00 PM
0 comments
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
today , i may have made allie late for first hour by hearing " twenty - five " instead of "twenty five "
posted by emily oi! at 3:34:00 PM
0 comments
today , i may have made allie late for first hour by hearing " twenty - five " instead of "twenty five "
posted by emily oi! at 3:34:00 PM
0 comments
Monday, September 01, 2003
september has just been declared , by my father , official " get - emily - applied - to - college " month .
i'm scared .
posted by emily oi! at 9:37:00 AM
0 comments
september has just been declared , by my father , official " get - emily - applied - to - college " month .
i'm scared .
posted by emily oi! at 9:37:00 AM
0 comments
