There is. It's called captcha

I was planning to blog earlier, but I literally just got home and finished eating dinner. I stayed after, and didn't leave yearbook until 7:25.

In fact, I've spent over 13 hours this week after school putting it together with Karen and Holly :O I don't know why I do it, or if I even like it, but truth be told, it gives me a sense of purpose. I like to think that someday someone will look at their yearbook, and think on these years with kind hindsight. They won't remember the embarrassing moments, like the time they slipped in the hallways (2x in one day), or that time they weren't prepared for an oral and made a fool of themselves. They'll only remember the good times, like that time they won an award, or made a lifelong friend. A lot of people accomplish great things in high school; it's just nice knowing that 50 years down the road, I'll have tangible evidence of my efforts. The yearbook is proof that I did something with my time.

Yearbook order forms will soon be out. I will post all information on our facebook page, or if you would prefer, I could post some of the bigger announcements on my blog :P Just say the word.

Anyhow, it's time for my vitamins again, in addition to my meds:

The tiny white pills, my methimazole disintegrate on contact with my mouth, and it sucks. It's like having to taste feet every day. And I know disgusting: last month, during a sleepy stupor, I managed to put lotion on my toothbrush, and actually attempt to brush my teeth with said toothpaste-poser...ew

Enough said, moving on to my view of life:

It is said that friends come and go. None more so, than those in period 2 study. At times it feels as though the entire school is clustered into the cafeteria, and other days, it's just me...

Well, being who I am, I have made some new friends :) Without further ado, meet my Hispanic (mostly) Buddies!

To the left is Gabriel. Though he's only taking Spanish 4H, he's much better than me at Spanish, so I ask him for help with my homework. He's really nice and strangely studious. Of all the kids in study (myself included), he's the only one who pulls out homework and works on it everyday. It's ridiculously admirable. Imagine if the Asians (and Jews) of our school could channel that kind of focus, we'd beat out Thomas Jefferson in a heartbeat.

To the right is DJ (not Mojica). He's only 15, but he's more than 8 inches taller than me. As he puts it, he's a mutt mutt; 3 different races on each side, including Hispanic, Italian, etc. He's really sweet; yesterday he rode on his bike to Shoprite especially to get his mom a birthday present. I sort of bother him in study, but I don't think he minds. He's friends with Louis, my other new Hispanic friend. He left with Ms. McQuade today, so unfortunately I don't have a picture of him.

Yesterday, during lunch, Greg Parry came over to the table and dumped a ridiculous number of forks and spoons onto the table. Ishan then proceeded to stuff all of them into Aaron's backpack. It was funny, but I didn't expect it to happen again...

Today, Greg once again walks over to the table and unloads all these forks and spoons:

 <- note spoons

Turns out, that this is all in protest of the school's having charged him $5 to buy a new ID. According to him, he's been doing this for about a week now. I can sympathize though, because one time when I was particularly frustrated with the school, I stole a few sheets of paper from a ream of paper by the mountain of paper near the cafeteria. It sort of felt satisfying because it was nice paper (really long and thick). However, I ended up using it for signs at the activity fair, so I guess I returned it in a sense.

In Spanish class, this was carved into the desk I was sitting at:

Either it's a really creative play on words, in which case it's very punny, or the person couldn't spell marijuana properly. In any case, I thought it was kind of funny. Speaking of funny, we were "discussing the reading" in groups, when Michelle brought up the Harry Potter tests going around on facebook. I then mentioned how I had taken a test to see if I was asian (turns out I'm 0% asian, and a gui lo at that; it was news to me), which inspired Hansin to ask, "I wonder if there's is a test to see if you're human?" Whereupon Michelle responded,

"There is. It's called captcha"

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¡Pobre Senor Pena!

We watched the violence prevention video today. If it had been a real movie, the review ratings would have been about .5/5, but the message was kind of deep. So deep in fact, that we spent an entire period discussing it in Spanish Lit. with Senor Pena today.

About halfway through the class I brought up that I felt that the reason he committed suicide was because he had no friends. I'm fortunate enough to be blessed with amazing friends, but he didn't have anyone there to support him - no one to tell him they knew he wasn't a "gay pervert". (punctuation? hate quotations)

In response, Senor (Sr) Pena decided to share with us his personal experience with friends. I think everyone in my class will agree that it was sadder than the video. I will do my best to tell the story from his point of view in the most concise way possible (It'll help if you read this in your mind with a spanish accent):

"You know, to tell you the truth I don't have any friends. One time, my wife and I went to a Colombian restaurant. There was a singer there and he was Venezuelan (you can always pick out those Venezuelans), and I could see that the woman near him was his girlfriend. My wife and I went to introduce ourselves, and I tried to make a friend, because I don't have any friends. We went to restaurants he sang at and we became friends; I even invited him to come over to my house. Then, when he got married to his girlfriend my wife and I were the...how do you say in English padrinos?...best man and woman. As a present we gave them our timeshare for a two week honeymoon, including airplane tickets, to Cancun. Afterall, he was my friend, and we were the padrinos. Two years later, he came up to me and told me he was in a some trouble and needed money. I asked him, 'How much money?' He told me, and I said, 'Fine. When will you pay me back?' I let him decide when to pay back! He said 6 months, so I said ok. 'We won't talk about it anymore, just when the time comes pay me back.' It was all fine, we'd hang out, and he even slept over my house one time. But then, it was time and he didn't call me, or email me, or come see me. I tried to call him, but he had changed his number. I never heard from him again..."

¡Pobre Senor Pena!

Food for thought:

How do you know a friend is trustworthy?

Would you ever lend your good friends money?

Do you think this could ever happen to you?

What would you do if they ran off?

Personally, I have faith in my friends; whether that's stupid or naive, I prefer to believe in people. I'd rather place my 100% in those I love and be hurt, than never trust for fear of betrayal.

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