The Mystery of 'Da Jawn'

Some people are very sneaky and mischievous.

Some people are very skilled at playing practical jokes.

When these forces combine, the result is a little like what happened to me... three times.

So, on your average day home from school, I was typing an essay for my english class, all wrapped up in my A.P. world of syntax, diction, and rhetorical tools. Being the distraction-prone teenager that I am, I shifted my focus to Facebook after typing my first paragraph. When I finally bore the self-control whip on my own hide and came back to my essay, the word 'da jawn' had mysteriously appeared in the second-to-last sentence in place of the word 'it'.

Mildly confused, I changed it back and thought to myself (quite fatuously, I admit), "I don't remember typing that...". A few sentences later, I again used the word 'it', only to be greeted with the infamous yellow lightning bolt signifier of Microsoft Word's Autocorrect in action:

Sure enough, 'it' magically transformed to 'da jawn' before my eyes.

So I went to Autocorrect settings to delete the 'autocorrection' of 'the' to 'da jawn', and thought to myself, "what a clever prank!" But frustratingly enough, it baffled me to think about who could have done it, since I didn't (and still don't) remember anyone touching my computer in the recent past.

I eventually finished my essay and moved on with my life, sure that I had conquered all of the Autocorrect struggles that would confront me in life.

I was wrong.

Two weeks later, I was again typing a six page English essay when suddenly, the lightning bolt attacked and the word 'something' transmogrified into, sure enough, 'da jawn'. Perplexed and slightly frustrated, I changed the autocorrect settings, again puzzled by 1. who on Earth had access to my computer and 2. which of my friends would be clever enough to do that. The only place I recalled leaving my computer unoccupied was at Science Olympiad, but when I told my fellow Olympians the story, they were all surprised and highly entertained, so I concluded that it couldn't have been any of them. Again hoping that I'd beat the genius of this jokester by fixing the Autocorrect settings, I moved on.

Around three weeks ago, 'da jawn' entered my life yet again.

I was typing a History essay this time, when I used the forbidden-by-my-English-teacher word 'thing'. Again distracted, I clicked onto another page (Formspring, this time), and when I came back, much to my surprise, 'da jawn' had ousted 'thing' and planted itself on my computer screen with the dramatic accentuation of a yellow lightning bolt. Utterly confounded at this point, I deleted 'da jawn' and, remembering the plea of my English teacher to "never, ever, ever use the word 'thing' in an essay", replaced it with some diction that sounded slightly more highly educated. In all of my confusion, the idea of fixing Autocorrect settings completely slipped my mind, and to this day, 'thing' still morphs into 'da jawn' and I still have absolutely no idea who played this clever and entertaining prank.

And that, my friends, is the unsolved mystery of 'da jawn'.

Something Different

So, I originally intended this blog to be a collection of illustrated retellings of the episodes of my life, but I'm now realizing that my brain can't just work in one way, so I'm going to share some of my other sides in hopes that this blog can begin to resemble me, in a linearly-coded-cyberspacious form. So, on a more personal/spiritual note, here is a memoir-esque narrative I wrote for my English class earlier this year based on a photograph from my youth:

My First Taste of Self-Discovery

Looking back on this picture, I vividly remember the scene it portrays so perfectly. I remember the sensations I experienced before the picture was taken, as well as my ensuing thoughts at the moment the shutter snapped. I was four years old, posing for a mom-endorsed photography session with my one-year-old sister, Shana. It was autumn and the endless expanse of green grass was speckled with fallen leaves of yellow, orange, and brown. I can still remember the soft rays of sunlight dancing through the trees, stopping to perform winding pirouettes on the tips of blades of grass. I can still feel the cool, crisp breeze spiced by the glowing warmth of the sun beating on my ears, my nose, my hands. I can still smell the freshness, the organic scent of falling leaves in autumn tickling my nostrils, renewing me, and teasing me with the excitement of the changing seasons. I can still visualize my mother braiding my soft, damp locks of hair, telling me I will look different in the morning. I can still remember my anticipation of the pure elation I felt would be brought by a difference, brought by a change. I still today can perceive the wonder I felt knowing I looked different for the first time since I could remember, and most vividly of all, I remember stepping outside and being encompassed by nature, by the beauty and wonder of G-d around me. I felt myself melt into my surroundings, and I left my brain for my natural sensations.

Stepping delicately to the little red wagon, I took a deep breath of the full, fall air. This was the very reason why I loved fall so much: the astounding fullness of its air, filled with the scent of biodegrading leaves, and the newly discovered concept of change, seen through the changing colors of leaves. The purely enchanting deepness of autumn just captivated me. The idea that it had so much more to offer, as the leaves slowly gradated their way from green to yellow, yellow to orange, orange to brown, and fell to the ground. This profound concept of change was only complemented by the change in weather as the cool breeze snuck in, the change in the texture of my hair, made braid-wavy for the day, as well as the change in the school year. I would be starting Pre-K at Shipley soon, moving from my preschool at Trinity to a real school. As I pondered these changes, slight jealousy arose for my sister, who had yet to begin preschool, let alone school in general. Nature saved me from dismay, however. I remember vividly feeling the fall air fill me, lift me up, and place me down gently. I felt the deep creases in the leafy hands of trees caress my soul, whispering to me that ‘everything is going to be alright’. They told me silently of their experiences, what turns them green and red, orange and brown, why they slip away from the cold’s strangling embrace and sprout again when warmth tickles their buds. They told me I was special; they saw the kindness in my heart. They said that they would stand by me, even when they slipped away from the cold. They told me they would be there for me, always and forever. I believed them, and the leaves still speak to me today.

As this silent promise was made, quickly and fluidly, my mother was setting up for the photography session and my sister was frolicking in the grass. As my mother called my name, a beam of sunlight washed upon me, trailing over me with its misty veil of light. With my extrasensory awareness system on high drive, I consciously made my way over to the wagon, where my ham-of-a-sister awaited me, as well as the pictures. Dissipating the last tinge of jealousy, I sat down in the cold, hard wagon and let my legs share their warmth with its thin, steel skeleton. I put my arm around my baby sister and held her close, kissed her on the eye, and told her I love her. It was this beautiful and spiritually empowering moment that was frozen in time forever, captured by a swift movement of my mother’s hand with the icy lens of a camera.

Even now I can associate the open, unthinking feeling that so swelled inside me that day with my current philosophies. The feelings and concepts that I perceived have been ever-present in my thinking since that day. In the past, they have been things that I observed diligently, inquisitively. Only more recently have I begun to deeply analyze these observations, and the more I do, the more the story behind this picture ties perfectly into my philosophies. The natural inclination, oneness, and pureness of children fit so naturally, so perfectly together that every time it strikes me I have to stop and marvel at its perfection. At these moments I am half in awe at the unfathomably complicated way in which everything makes sense, and half joyfully unsurprised that G-d and His Providence create such complex perfection. It no longer awes me to see how at peace I was at such a young age; my cogitations have shown me that the peacefulness I so strongly displayed on the day this picture was taken is natural at that age. What I felt that day reminds me that life is an endless struggle to regress to that openness, an endless struggle to once again be aware of life around your body, an endless struggle to live through perceiving the way young children do so beautifully, with no sign of over-thinking

This is a picture of a fall scene and a young girl kissing her baby sister in a wagon. What it means to me, however, is very different than its implied significance. When I look at this picture, I am swept back to the events that no one saw. When I see soft lighting on my forehead and my hair, the pure, snowy whiteness of the bow in my hair, I am placed back into the autumn air, back into the glowing sun, and back into my first taste of spiritual discovery. It is not so much the image portrayed in this picture that resonates inside me so strongly, but rather the sensations I discovered prior to the picture’s being taken that facilitated my actions in it. My subconscious discovery of myself, of the trees, and consequentially of G-d set the path for my current philosophies and revealed to me who I was… who I am. This picture reminds me that the power children have to feel, and thus perceive, is the route to happiness because it brings to me the purity and the clarity that I felt so crisply that day. Aside from this, it reminds me of the trees’ message to me; the message the gently rattling leaves so gracefully told me: I am special. The delicate kiss on my sister’s eye reminds me infallibly of the love one is able to share with another, of the power one has to spread happiness, to induce a gently tugging smile on the faces of those around them. Like the trees, it reminds me that I know who I am. This beautiful picture, the warmly pulsating feeling of love it brings to me, and the story of my first taste of self-discovery remind me that as long as I have the power to love, my life will never be worthless.

The Mildly Epic Story of How I Obtained a Cheese Hat

So, for those of you who do NOT know what a cheese hat is, it's basically the sexiest thing in the world.



All in all, it makes everything look sexier. Even David Archuletta.

Now, this cheese hat isn't any old cheese hat; it's not the one you buy at a store and fasten to your baby's head to make sure it looks sexy (and hopefully doesn't suffocate in the cheese-shaped foam wonderland). No, no, you see. This cheese hat is the one that everyone wants. This cheese hat is the one Wisconsinites, and only Wisconsinites, wear to the National Science Olympiad Tournament's Swap Meet, which just so happened to have been held in Wisconsin this year (making their desirability skyrocket). Yes, my dears, this one Cheesehead® cheese hat has the desirability of Emma Watson and James Franco combined. Mmm, pure sexiness.

To illustrate, there are approximately 10,000 kids at the Science Olympiad National Tournament. Around 20 of these kids are from Wisconsin, so we will assume the presence of 20 cheese hats. That's a ratio of 1 cheese hat to every 500 kids, all of which want a cheese hat.

Now, it's my first year in Olympiad. I wish I would have joined earlier, but I didn't for some reason, so this was my first experience at a swap meet. I had no idea what awaited me. Kids are zipping by with whatever possessions they have to their name, grasping for hats and t-shirts to bring back proudly to their team. Some kids were filing by, eyes glued to the ground, cheese hats gripped tightly to their chests, as unresponsive as possible to the business tactics of the extremely smart adolescent population waving hands, chocolate, license plates, and other miscellaneous knick-knacks in their direction. It looked a little like this:

Poor guy. Meanwhile, I was one of the 9,980 suckers scrambling for a cheese hat, bombarding particularly privileged kids like him. So how did I, out of 9,980 hatless kids, end up with what everyone wanted? Truth be told: hard work. Huhhh?

Well, I started out with a large Hershey's bar and package of Reeses' that I took from our team's booth, as well as a package of Tastycake® Butterscotch Crumpets. I first traded the chocolate bar for a lip whistle, which I traded for a chocolate pop, which I then traded for a Tennesse license plate. I traded the Reeses' for a fake bull skull, which I liked, and the Butterscotch Crumpet for a package of tulip seeds, which I also liked. When I saw people selling funny scientist t-shirts, I scouted out the best one in hopes that it would win someone over (preferably a cheese hat owner, although at the beginning, I didn't suspect that I would get a cheese hat and wasn't entirely desperate either. It wasn't until I realized that every single person there would kill for a cheese hat that I set my mind toward getting it.) The one I got reads: "I am not an English scholar, I is a scientist" (which isn't really pertinent because English is my best subject..). I then saw a boy in a bear hat, which I decided I loved. Approaching his booth, I put my flirty eyes on and showed him my t-shirt. He was quite intrigued, and after hesitating multiple times, said concluded that although he loved the shirt, he loved his bear hat more. I offered him a complementary Butterscotch Crumpet, and after again hearing his apologies, I moped away, disgruntled.

By this time, I has asked around eleven cheese-hat bearers if they would be willing to trade (using my best business tactics), all to no avail. I was wildly running around, cheese-hat hunting, when I finally found a Wisconsin booth, behind of which was a girl in a cheese hat. I rapidly approached the booth, my ears back and my tail pointed, ready for the kill. Calling up my best business face, I offered her the funny scientist t-shirt and a Butterscotch Crumpet (that I had yet to get). She rubbed her chin and said, "I don't know, it doesn't feel right". Luckily, a kind girl from my olympiad team happened to be standing right next to me, and offered me a handful of chocolates, which I added to the offers. She shrugged and asked if I could get her a college t-shirt. Nice girl from my team pulled a UPenn t-shirt out of her bag (THANK GOODNESS!) and I added that to the pile. "Two t-shirts, some chocolates, and a Butterscotch Crumpet, yummm," I said, enticingly (hopefully!). She replied that it still didn't feel right, so I asked what she would want in order to give away her cheese hat. She replied, "either a t-shirt from Purdue University or a hoodie/long sleeve sweatshirt" (she couldn't make her mind up between the two). I said, "done! Save it for me!" She told me she couldn't make any promises, and, feeling the hat so close to my fingertips, I bolted.

The swap meet was held around the stadium, with booths taking up its entire circumference (that's a lot of booths). There were around 120 schools there, that's approximately 120 booths. I rapidly scouted out the two Indiana booths, neither of which had a t-shirt from Purdue. It was then that, without thinking, I took off to run a full lap around the stadium, asking every single booth if they had a sweatshirt. Not one did. Disheartened, I searched for a solution. I still had my skull. I took it out and carried it around, searching once more for a sweatshirt for fear that I had missed a booth. When I went back to one of the booths, a boy behind the counter saw the skull in my hand and exclaimed, "wow, I really like that!" I offered it to him for a t-shirt, and he enthusiastically agreed. I picked up a t-shirt for one of the teams in that state, and, deciding I needed another t-shirt because I couldn't get the sweatshirt, ran to a random booth, quickly (and reluctantly) traded the tulip seeds for another random t-shirt, and bolted nervously back to the cheese hat booth. Suddenly, I was lost. I couldn't find the booth. Flabbergasted, I paced, looking for some identifying structure to tell me where I was. I recognized one of the booths and ran into the crowd, against the lines of kids tunneling at me, or rather, I was tunneling at sloth-like lines of kids. Seeing the booth, I jumped, and ran straight for it, sweating up a storm (mass body heat + running wildly + raw nervousness don't go well together).

Upon seeing me, the girl looked up, mildly confused as to why I didn't have her sweatshirt... or maybe it was because I looked like I had just meandered through a downpour... Anyway, I now had a UPenn t-shirt, two other random t-shirts, a funny scientist t-shirt, and some chocolates. And a whole lotta sweat. I jumped through the group and threw my things on the table (minus the scientist t-shirt, i wanted to see if I could first get away with the three other ones... I was hoping she'd forget about it in my insanity). I told her how I went to every single booth and not one of them had a sweatshirt. Impressed by my story (and probably assured by my sweat), she looked at me. I exclaimed, "I can also get you the Butterscotch Crumpet!", to which she stuck her hand again on her chin and thought, and thought, and thought, and finally replied, "SOLD! GO! Go get the Crumpet and it's yours!" Enthused, I booked it out of the crowd and again through the packs of children to the other side of the stadium, where my booth sat modestly. I vaguely remember jumping on various members of my team who I saw on the way to exclaim, "I'M GETTING I CHEESE HAT!!!" I kinda reminded myself of that little leprechaun dude who clicks his feet together when he jumps:

Anyway, when I got back to the booth, I grabbed a crumpet, shaking, yelled excitedly, "I NEED THIS", and ran away to claim my cheese hat. Beamingly proud of myself, I threw that crumpet down on her table. She took off her hat and said, "here ya go, because you worked so hard for it".

And that, my friends, was an amazing feeling. Many times, you don't realize how great it feels to get something because you worked so hard for it; that's what the instant gratification aspect of technology does for the youth, and the general population. But my cheese hat was hard-earned, and let me tell you, it felt damn good to walk back to my team, sweating, hugging my prize to my chest, 'cause you know what? I was one of the 20 people out of 10,000 that had what everyone wanted. And that sounds snobby, but hey, the less available, the more desirable, and that's how the brain works. Plus, I worked hard for it. Now I was that poor guy in the middle of a crowd of grasping hands:

When we got back to the hotel, the coaches looked baffled. The head coach commented, "wow, a first-time cheese-hatter, you should be a professional swapper".

And damn, did that feel good. Moral of the story: work hard, IT PAYS OFF!!!

OHAIIIII

Well howdy there!

*Announcer-style voice* It's currently 12:30 AM, it's looking beautifully dark and warm outside, and today *feeling boob*, there's a 30% chance that I have mounds of homework piled in front of me! (it's a joke, because Karen Smith's boobs could tell when it was already raining.. in other words, I DO have mounds of homework piled up in front of me!)

This week has been particularly stressful in general, because Science Olympiad Nationals were last weekend (wooooo!!!!) (we came in eighth, btw, and my main event, Sounds of Music, FIRST IN DA NATION, BABY!!!), so I missed Thursday and Friday of school, and then I got "a stomach bug" but really i had to finish my 19 page History essay and ended up missing Monday and Tuesday, as well as most of Wednesday (when are ya gonna write a paper on the legal ramifications of the Vietnam war while in Wisconsin competing against the smartest underaged people in the nation!?)

So, as you can imagine, I missed a heck of a lot of work... and tests, and quizzes, and oral examinations... ohhh, how high school just toots my boot!

So, basically, I'm all like SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOLL!!!!! As you can see from the below representation:



Seeing as my brain enjoys throwing random and unrelated things at me, two different songs (that don't even go together, mind you) are suddenly on repeat in my head, one whose name I don't even know (which drives me crazy!). And, for some reason, Chinese words crept their way into my mind in the last ten minutes (I don't even speak Chinese!), so now my brain's going buckwild on me as my SCHOOOOOOOLLLLLL alarm is sounding (quite gratingly, in fact), some weird mashup of In the Sun by She & Him and some other song with annoying whistling are bouncing back and forth, and Chinese words are echoing in squeaky voices across the caverns of my vacant mind. So now, it's sorta like this:




Put, simply, I'm in mental turmoil. To top if off, my family friend (who has a wicked obsession with Harry Potter) is taking me to New York City this weekend to see Harry Potter the Musical and visit the Harry Potter Exhibit. It should be fun, but I'm not quite sure if I'll be able to prevent my brain from running back to shouting its famous siren, playing the broken record of Chinese babbling, and blasting random annoying songs whose names escape me (pet peeve!!). Oh, well. This should be a loooonnnng weekend. Someone buy me fudge if I survive.

Actually, don't. Bikini season is approaching and I'm eating a net 5 times a day what I've eaten each day all year. Oompah Loompah Lumpy Thighs, here I come!

Anyway, I should really get back to my homework, seeing as, regardless of how many eye-daggers I've sent flying at it, this mound of homework is not shrinking without my productivity, and I'm having severe trouble formulating coherent sentences. It's 1:07 AM, if you're awake right now and reading my blog, go to bed. Why? Because you can.

Night night! xo<3