Alternatively titled, "How Is Davina Surviving? She Doesn't Know."
Also alternatively titled, "Apologies From The Author, Who Is Writing A Lot Less Fiction Than She Wanted To This Month."
Or, "Why This Is A Blog Post And Not A Story."
The first reason that this is a blog post and not a story is that I write fiction about ten times slower than I write poetry, because it's a form I don't practice very much but retain all my perfectionism about, and also because by nature it has to be longer than most poems. There are a couple things in the works, but it will be a while longer before they're coherent and long enough to post.
The second reason is that I am inches away from drowning in schoolwork. In addition to my regular coursework, which is challenging enough to juggle, I have not one, not two, but three tests next week, including a midterm in my hardest class. Monday and Tuesday are especially daunting, with tests on both mornings, two (fairly long) online homework assignments due, a lab report due, an in-class presentation scheduled, and another lab to complete. Not to mention the fact that I need to come up with a class schedule and register for next term on Monday as well!
I'm finding that this term is much more difficult for me than last term, because of all the new material I'm learning about chemistry, physics, differential equations, programming, and a little mechanical stuff for the robot I'm trying to build. Some of the new information is getting digested, but the rest is just hanging out in my throat, waiting for me to throw up or something.
I'm also in like, three group projects at once, which is pretty frustrating. On the plus side of this, though, I am making new friends, which is super exciting after a gap year in which I met new people at an approximate rate of 1 per every 3 months.
I hope this doesn't come across as complaining. I am very happy where I am, and I'm confident in God's ability to carry me through this, and I'm not even despairing about my grades yet.
However, this is definitely an excuse for any poor writing or ridiculously short posts over the next week and a half, as I crack down on my time management. I've already spent 23 minutes on this piece that I should probably have used studying for Chemistry.
Back to chemical kinetics, y'all.
Showing posts with label serious-ish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label serious-ish. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Thoughts on Harvey
[My goodness, the performances of Harvey were about two weeks ago already. I am terrible at posting in a timely manner. Anyway.]
Harvey is my favorite drama club production as of yet. Perhaps that's a self-focused comment, as this has been the largest role I've had so far, but I think it has to do with more than that.
There were a lot of things that made this year's play so memorable:
There was the influx of ultra-talented newcomers--among them Emmie, Liz, and Peri, who all did wonderfully in the play. There was the excitement of performing on our very own stage, and the unexpected ability to begin practicing onstage as early as the beginning of February. There was the stress-relieving presence of an actual stage crew. And much, much more, of course.
Speaking personally, I think that working on Harvey with this year's drama club really challenged me and pushed me forward. I definitely grew as an actress in order to step into this major role, and I probably grew a little bit as an artist when I took on the project of creating the Elwood-Harvey portrait. (I guess I can say that I know how to use oil pastels now.) This year, Mrs. Z twice called me out as an example for the rest of the club, which was definitely a pleasant surprise. Agonizing--albeit mentally and silently--over practical things like keeping my face and body turned out to the audience had a very rewarding result: they eventually became mostly unconscious, and I was able to focus more on delivering my lines with the proper emotion, facial expressions, and gestures.
Acting, in its essence, is sort of remarkable. It is taking on the character of someone else in order to tell a story. And to become this other person, you must change your appearance, change your mannerisms, and sometimes even change your voice. You must study the things they say to find out how they say it, and you must study their words so well that you know how they'll react to anything another person says--not with the words you've been given in the script, but with actions you have to come up with on your own.
It's not all about the laughs you get, though a laughing audience is probably one of my favorite things in the world. It's also not about the comments you get later about what a great job you did, though those are high up there in my list of favorites too. It is about the story you're telling through your character. I only came to this realization this year because of our two performances instead of one. Here's how it came about:
On the first night, there were more people in the audience that I didn't know than ones I did. On the second night, my family was there, along with like twenty people from church. My performance was more real on the first night (not that the second night was necessarily worse, just less real). I didn't expect it to be. If anything, I expected to be more into the play because all these people I knew were watching, but it didn't turn out that way.
I then realized that on the second night, I was more focused on what my family and friends were thinking than on what Veta was thinking. Thus, I became less Veta and more Davina-playing-Veta. It's a very subtle difference. I don't even know if it was visible, but I definitely felt it. I think it had to do with knowing that the people laughing on the first night were laughing because Veta was funny and I was playing her well, as opposed to the uncertainty of whether people on the second night were laughing because of that, or because it was funny to see Davina with lots of make-up-wrinkles, flailing with a purse.
Or maybe it doesn't matter so much. I don't really know.
I'm not very experienced an actress (I haven't even cried fake tears yet), and I assuredly haven't mastered the art, but Harvey showed me something new about myself. I now love performing. Love love love. It has this addictive quality that I sort of felt before, but never as strongly as the moment I stepped onto the stage on Friday night, March 2nd with my long blue dress and like thirty bobby pins in my hair, and said,
Harvey is my favorite drama club production as of yet. Perhaps that's a self-focused comment, as this has been the largest role I've had so far, but I think it has to do with more than that.
There were a lot of things that made this year's play so memorable:
There was the influx of ultra-talented newcomers--among them Emmie, Liz, and Peri, who all did wonderfully in the play. There was the excitement of performing on our very own stage, and the unexpected ability to begin practicing onstage as early as the beginning of February. There was the stress-relieving presence of an actual stage crew. And much, much more, of course.
Speaking personally, I think that working on Harvey with this year's drama club really challenged me and pushed me forward. I definitely grew as an actress in order to step into this major role, and I probably grew a little bit as an artist when I took on the project of creating the Elwood-Harvey portrait. (I guess I can say that I know how to use oil pastels now.) This year, Mrs. Z twice called me out as an example for the rest of the club, which was definitely a pleasant surprise. Agonizing--albeit mentally and silently--over practical things like keeping my face and body turned out to the audience had a very rewarding result: they eventually became mostly unconscious, and I was able to focus more on delivering my lines with the proper emotion, facial expressions, and gestures.
Acting, in its essence, is sort of remarkable. It is taking on the character of someone else in order to tell a story. And to become this other person, you must change your appearance, change your mannerisms, and sometimes even change your voice. You must study the things they say to find out how they say it, and you must study their words so well that you know how they'll react to anything another person says--not with the words you've been given in the script, but with actions you have to come up with on your own.
It's not all about the laughs you get, though a laughing audience is probably one of my favorite things in the world. It's also not about the comments you get later about what a great job you did, though those are high up there in my list of favorites too. It is about the story you're telling through your character. I only came to this realization this year because of our two performances instead of one. Here's how it came about:
On the first night, there were more people in the audience that I didn't know than ones I did. On the second night, my family was there, along with like twenty people from church. My performance was more real on the first night (not that the second night was necessarily worse, just less real). I didn't expect it to be. If anything, I expected to be more into the play because all these people I knew were watching, but it didn't turn out that way.
I then realized that on the second night, I was more focused on what my family and friends were thinking than on what Veta was thinking. Thus, I became less Veta and more Davina-playing-Veta. It's a very subtle difference. I don't even know if it was visible, but I definitely felt it. I think it had to do with knowing that the people laughing on the first night were laughing because Veta was funny and I was playing her well, as opposed to the uncertainty of whether people on the second night were laughing because of that, or because it was funny to see Davina with lots of make-up-wrinkles, flailing with a purse.
Or maybe it doesn't matter so much. I don't really know.
I'm not very experienced an actress (I haven't even cried fake tears yet), and I assuredly haven't mastered the art, but Harvey showed me something new about myself. I now love performing. Love love love. It has this addictive quality that I sort of felt before, but never as strongly as the moment I stepped onto the stage on Friday night, March 2nd with my long blue dress and like thirty bobby pins in my hair, and said,
"Yes, dear?"
"Telephone."
"Oh no, dear, not with all of them in there..."
Friday, February 24, 2012
2-24-12 Miscellaneous
Because I am terribly lazy.
- The precalc test today was not worthy of the worry I gave it beforehand (thank you, Lord!). I did find, however, that I am terrible at multiplying beyond the twelves without a calculator. It took me a good minute to figure out 13 • 13. Sigh.
- We have begun to play the evolutionary-model games in Bio. "The Finches of Candyland" was a lot of fun. I was a chopstick finch and had to move various pieces of candy from one table to a cup on another. M&Ms are hard, Nerds are ridiculously difficult, and gummy bears are the best. They are just so delightfully squishy that I could grab them even when they made me use the chopsticks with my left hand. Looking forward to playing GlumpGlumpTime (my group's game) on Monday.
- I spontaneously developed a rivalry with Marina while playing Frisbee, which entailed a lot of yelling "NO!" and half-tackling. If I can't catch it, neither can she!! (That was fun.)
- The difference between shame and guilt: I believe guilt is a state of being--as in, you are innocent or guilty of doing something wrong. Shame is an internal feeling that can be independent of real guilt. For instance, you could do something and be guilty, but feel no shame for it; you could also be wrongly accused of something and still feel shame for the perceived guilt. It turns out that many people disagree with my definition. Thoughts?
- Tim has this awesome connect-the-dots coloring book of legendary/mythical creatures, and he let me use it. I spent all of last period connecting 459 dots to make a Pegasus. I NEED ONE OF THESE BOOKS.
- Alix and the rest of my robotics team departed for Williamsport this afternoon, as there's a competition there tomorrow. (I couldn't go because I'd already signed up for the Praying Life conference.) Best of luck to them!
- I have been working hard on the Elwood-Harvey portrait, and I'm almost done. All you drama peeps will see the finished product on Monday. The rest of you will have to wait until the play.
"This portrait over your mantel. Who painted it?""Um...me." << Haha. As if I'd actually say that.
- A very small spider descended from the ceiling on an invisible thread. Nathan and I blew it back and forth a few times before killing it. Playing catch with miniscule spiders? New favorite game.
- It's been gloomy or raining all day. I really enjoy these kinds of days once in a while, mostly because the sky becomes this lovely grey color, and all the tree branches are outlined so strikingly against it in black. Also, rain = mud = fun.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Home
The sunset sky last night was beautiful, bright red and orange and yellow streaked across a soft blue-purple canvas. I watched it through the black naked branches of the trees stretching up into the west, and it took my breath away. Just a day before that, crystal-white snow covered those same branches and blanketed the ground, while sparkling icicles hung from every twig and roof and windowsill.
There is something about the quiet beauty of Nature that stirs a longing in me, a yearning for something else. It is a longing that I have always had, but mostly stays sleeping within me, only awakening from time to time. I think this is a longing that everybody has, though each person has a different perception of it. It's perhaps funny, because many people look to Nature to satisfy that longing, but for me, it only makes the longing worse. I stared out the window the other day, thought of forested hills and golden moonlight, and wondered what I was looking for. Then it occurred to me.
I want to go Home.
It is as simple as that. I see the sunset and I think of a wider sky, perhaps painted with more colors. I see the trees and I think of taller ones whose branches will hold me without fear of falling. I see the rivers that we pass by while driving and I think of walking along one's side, marveling at the sweet clear waters and the joyful rushing sound, walking, walking under dazzling open skies and over higher, greener hills. Following the river on and on until I come to a shining city where the gates are always open.
What will it be like to open my eyes to a brighter world, to wake up free from sin, to finally run to my Father and feel His arms around me?
I can't wait to go Home.
There is something about the quiet beauty of Nature that stirs a longing in me, a yearning for something else. It is a longing that I have always had, but mostly stays sleeping within me, only awakening from time to time. I think this is a longing that everybody has, though each person has a different perception of it. It's perhaps funny, because many people look to Nature to satisfy that longing, but for me, it only makes the longing worse. I stared out the window the other day, thought of forested hills and golden moonlight, and wondered what I was looking for. Then it occurred to me.
I want to go Home.
It is as simple as that. I see the sunset and I think of a wider sky, perhaps painted with more colors. I see the trees and I think of taller ones whose branches will hold me without fear of falling. I see the rivers that we pass by while driving and I think of walking along one's side, marveling at the sweet clear waters and the joyful rushing sound, walking, walking under dazzling open skies and over higher, greener hills. Following the river on and on until I come to a shining city where the gates are always open.
What will it be like to open my eyes to a brighter world, to wake up free from sin, to finally run to my Father and feel His arms around me?
I can't wait to go Home.
Monday, January 23, 2012
North Korean Famine, 1997
While half the world away,
these children starved--
a healthy, happy baby
was born.
Why me?
Friday, January 20, 2012
Approaching the Bible
The Bible comes from God; God doesn't come from the Bible.
Our knowledge of God is a different story. What we know about God, definitively and redemptively, comes from the Bible. And that is, the Bible that comes from God, who himself comes from nothing.
These are the foundational pieces to understanding the doctrine of revelation, and therefore, the doctrine of Scripture. God, utterly independent and essentially revelatory, has made himself known. This is stunning. And it helps to read the Bible with it in view.
D. A. Carson writes,
To approach the Bible correctly it is important to know something of the God who stands behind it. God is both transcendent (i.e., he is "above" space and time) and personal. He is the sovereign and all-powerful Creator to whom the entire universe owes its existence, yet he is the God who graciously condescends to interact with human beings whom he has himself formed in his own image."Approaching the Bible," Collected Writings on Scripture, (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010), 19–21.
Because we are locked in time and space, God meets us here; he is the personal God who interacts with other persons, persons he has made to glorify him and to enjoy him forever. . . .
The point to emphasize is that a genuinely Christian understanding of the Bible presupposes the God of the Bible, a God who makes himself known in a wide diversity of ways so that human beings may know the purpose for which they were made — to know and love and worship God, and so delight in that relationship that God is glorified while they receive the matchless benefit of becoming all that God wants them to be.
From: desiringGod.org
Monday, January 9, 2012
Sunday Morning Prayer
You know, the groups of people who stand in front of the stage, praying, before each service on Sunday mornings?
Early morning prayer is one of the things I want to start doing regularly. I need to learn to pray out loud in the presence of others, and it's amazing to listen to the prayers of the other people who are up there.
It so happens that I forget about Sunday morning prayer a lot. Thankfully, Stevie seems to have taken up the habit of reminding me every week, which is great--but I was thinking, why not invite all my other friends to come too? Occasionally, I'll go up in the morning and find a group of young people praying together and join them, and that is awesome...so why not make the group even bigger?
One thing I've noticed is that it tends to be mostly the young men from around my grade, and the girls are, well, not there. Thus, I'm inviting all of you guys (who come to CovFel) to join me and Stevie and everyone else in together drawing near to our Father's throne with our requests. It will be good for you. It will be good for me. We can remind each other. And it will be so encouraging to the adults who regularly pray on Sunday mornings.
Of course, praying in front of other people can be awfully scary. I'm still terrified of sounding stupid, being the baby in my prayer life that I am. But praying is really just about talking to God, and His is the only opinion that matters--not the people around me who are listening to me pray. I hope I can remember that more often.
Also! Speaking of prayer, the A Praying Life seminar on Febuary 25th!! SO EXCITING.
P.S. (completely unrelated) Today I came upon a stinkbug in the bathroom. As I watched, it proceeded to take one step along the wall, fall off, bounce on the mirror and shelf, and land on its back in the sink. Those things are unbelievably clumsy.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Davina Is A Geek Pt. 2
This time I'll begin with a picture, instead of ending with one.
I understand that now, in light of the picture, calling myself a geek has suddenly become pretentious. However, someone else showed me this thing and told me I was a geek, so I think it might be okay to say that. That was when I was telling her about my adventures on my robotics team.
Ah, yes. Robotics.
A few months into the school year, I joined (at her invitation) a team that my friend Alix has been on for the past two or three years. I really didn't know exactly what I was getting into. At that point, I still held a pretty cliche mental image of robots as these clunky humanoid constructions of metal or as advanced artificial intelligence. So it was interesting to find out that the robot we were building was pretty much a box with things attached to it, and we were mostly designing its functions to be remote-controlled by, well, us. Also, we have very specific tasks that we need the robot to accomplish: collect raquet-balls from the ground in some way, sort between magnet-balls and regular ones, put them into crates, grasp and lift crates, rotate them, stack them--and, of course, good basic mobility is always important.
I spent much of my time just listening at first, which was already confusing to my thoroughly mechanically-illiterate brain.
Axle collars, nylon locking nuts, channels, bushings, long bolts and short bolts, threaded rods, servo motors...
Sorting all that out was just like BLUGHAGHH it'll take me the whole year just to figure out what everything means and how they work together so I'll never contribute to ideas for building the robot so why on earth did I sign up for this in the first place??
However, I'm getting there. I'm competent enough as a pair of working hands, at least, with enough experience now to know how to deal with the basic mechanics. I like to say that the scar on my knuckle is a battle scar, but it really is from when I accidentally scraped my hand across a gear while reaching for a hex key too hastily. Alix and I occasionally race to see who can get four bolts unattached from the steel channels first. I've beat her a few times.
We have lots of opportunities for these races, because we are constantly taking parts of the robot apart, tweaking them, and putting them together again.
It's like, we attach the mechanism to the robot, test, well that didn't work, what went wrong? let's try switching the gears around, detach the mechanism, do whatever, reattach. Test again.
It is so cool. You get to take the theoretical and make it real within a few hours--from an idea in the mind to a working prototype almost immediately. I'm learning a lot: problem-solving, teamwork, and new motor skills (heh), among other things. And when we actually get to drive the robot, it's like a video game in real life, which is just awesome.
So yeah, that's another way that I'm a geek. I create and fix really cool stuff, though that's not through much aptitude on my part. I just got the opportunity to be this kind of geek, and I took it.
If you ever get that opportunity, and you've got the time to spare, I advise you to take it.
It's definitely rewarding.
I understand that now, in light of the picture, calling myself a geek has suddenly become pretentious. However, someone else showed me this thing and told me I was a geek, so I think it might be okay to say that. That was when I was telling her about my adventures on my robotics team.
Ah, yes. Robotics.
A few months into the school year, I joined (at her invitation) a team that my friend Alix has been on for the past two or three years. I really didn't know exactly what I was getting into. At that point, I still held a pretty cliche mental image of robots as these clunky humanoid constructions of metal or as advanced artificial intelligence. So it was interesting to find out that the robot we were building was pretty much a box with things attached to it, and we were mostly designing its functions to be remote-controlled by, well, us. Also, we have very specific tasks that we need the robot to accomplish: collect raquet-balls from the ground in some way, sort between magnet-balls and regular ones, put them into crates, grasp and lift crates, rotate them, stack them--and, of course, good basic mobility is always important.
I spent much of my time just listening at first, which was already confusing to my thoroughly mechanically-illiterate brain.
Axle collars, nylon locking nuts, channels, bushings, long bolts and short bolts, threaded rods, servo motors...
Sorting all that out was just like BLUGHAGHH it'll take me the whole year just to figure out what everything means and how they work together so I'll never contribute to ideas for building the robot so why on earth did I sign up for this in the first place??
However, I'm getting there. I'm competent enough as a pair of working hands, at least, with enough experience now to know how to deal with the basic mechanics. I like to say that the scar on my knuckle is a battle scar, but it really is from when I accidentally scraped my hand across a gear while reaching for a hex key too hastily. Alix and I occasionally race to see who can get four bolts unattached from the steel channels first. I've beat her a few times.
We have lots of opportunities for these races, because we are constantly taking parts of the robot apart, tweaking them, and putting them together again.
It's like, we attach the mechanism to the robot, test, well that didn't work, what went wrong? let's try switching the gears around, detach the mechanism, do whatever, reattach. Test again.
It is so cool. You get to take the theoretical and make it real within a few hours--from an idea in the mind to a working prototype almost immediately. I'm learning a lot: problem-solving, teamwork, and new motor skills (heh), among other things. And when we actually get to drive the robot, it's like a video game in real life, which is just awesome.
So yeah, that's another way that I'm a geek. I create and fix really cool stuff, though that's not through much aptitude on my part. I just got the opportunity to be this kind of geek, and I took it.
If you ever get that opportunity, and you've got the time to spare, I advise you to take it.
It's definitely rewarding.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Davina Is A Geek
There is a picture at the bottom. If you don't feel like reading all this, you can just skip to the picture.
By geek, I mean language geek, to be more precise. Though I will admit that I have a distinct bias towards East Asian languages, since I'm most familiar with them after English.
I got so excited the other day when I was reading my Korean language book that I received for Christmas (see? I asked for that for Christmas = I am a language geek), and I could understand an entire written conversation without the use of translators. I suppose that would be rewarding for any student of any language, but this accomplishment was the product of countless hours poring over dubious sources on the internet, pasting words into multiple translators to see what they might really mean, attempting to translate song lyrics, documenting the uses of every single particle I discovered, and writing random Korean words over and over whenever I had pencil and paper to familiarize myself with the writing system.
So reading that conversation felt good. Really good.
One of the most discouraging things in the world is when you paste "dama" into Google Translate, and it comes out "dama."
I think I love and hate Google Translate at the same time. On one hand, the dictionary-ish thing that pops up for single words can be extremely helpful in figuring out various uses for them, and it's great for translating simple vocabulary terms that I just don't know--and for Chinese, the "read phonetically" function aids me tremendously, because it gives me the pinyin needed to type the characters. On the other hand, I will be frank: it's well known that the grammar is atrocious.
"I like that cat better because it's prettier than other cats" in Chinese becomes "I prefer the cat, the cat because it is beautiful than the other."
Also, I don't know how much to trust the thing, period. I put "한치 (hanchi)" in once, trying to find out what it means after hearing it in a song, and I got "FLAMMABLE LIMIT". I don't think that was quite right.
I also have a love-hate relationship with my Mandarin Chinese course. Firstly, I love it simply because it's teaching me Chinese, and that is a language that I am totally ashamed to not already know. My parents are both fluent in Mandarin as well as a few other dialects. I feel like I should be, too. Most of my relatives speak Chinese. Some of them don't speak good English. I want to be able to talk to them.
One of the good things about the course is that it makes me write and read a lot, which is absolutely essential for any foreign language, but especially so for learning Chinese characters. Another good thing is that when we are given passages to read, my teacher never provides the pinyin (phonetic spelling of the characters, in case you didn't know) along with it. I know that other Chinese students can have problems with learning the actual characters when the pinyin is always included, because they end up just reading the alphabet they're familiar with in order to recognize words. I'm forced to memorize the characters themselves. No alphabet. Just words. MEMORIZE.
But then, my teacher also forgets to include pinyin when she's first teaching us new vocabulary. It took me a while to figure out that I had to just go to the course dictionary to find how to spell something. Before that, I just stared at the complicated characters, baffled as to how she expected us to just understand her sentences, grammar, sounds, new vocabulary, and all. Oh yeah, that's another thing. A lot of times she gives us long PowerPoint presentations to teach us new stuff, and there will be absolutely no translations inside. You have to figure everything out from prior knowledge and the pictures. Perhaps it's an attempt to simulate the way you'd learn through immersion. Just figure it out yourself.
I think that's a little similar to Rosetta Stone. Supposedly, you're going to "learn like a child." I wonder if that really works without actual immersion in a separate culture, where you'd be forced to use the new language all the time. Can you learn like a child while sitting at your computer and listening to one person's voice speak?
Maybe. I've survived through my course so far. All the same, I'd really like it if my teacher gave us translations.
If anyone asked me whether Korean or Chinese was harder--a question I think I've received at least once--I don't have a definitive answer. Both are really quite difficult for the native English speaker, but definitely not impossible for the dedicated student. Korean's writing system and phonetics are simple, a whole ton easier than the Chinese characters and tonal phonetics...but its complicated grammar structure and nearly inseparable connection to hierarchial Korean culture balance out any difficulty advantage that the alphabet provides. (Seriously, you use a different set of vocabulary and conjugate all your verbs differently depending on the societal status of the person you're speaking to.) Chinese grammar is a little more similar to English. IF YOU ARE CONSIDERING PICKING ONE OF THESE LANGUAGES TO LEARN, I RECOMMEND CHINESE, NOT BECAUSE IT IS MY HERITAGE AND I AM BIASED, BUT BECAUSE IT WILL PROBABLY SERVE MORE USEFUL IN YOUR FUTURE, AS CHINA IS A RISING WORLD POWER RIGHT NOW. AND IF YOU WANT AN EASY LANGUAGE, JUST GO FOR A EUROPEAN ONE THAT IS RELATED TO ENGLISH.
I haven't dabbled much in other languages. I took a little bit of Spanish when I was maybe ten, so I forget virtually all of that. I took an eight-week course in German once, but I forget most of that too. I tried learning Irish once. It's not as bad as Welsh, but the phonetics and spelling hardly made any sense to me, so I never really got past that. Japanese is one of those languages that I think I'll get to studying sometime in my future, but I'm not too interested at the moment. And Latin...eh. I learned that for a little while too. I will probably find my old books and go through them at some point soon, since I'm aiming to study biomedical stuffs, and it'll help.
Then, I'll learn Icelandic and Nahuatl and Aboriginal Australian. 'Cause I totally have the time. Pfft.
Oh wow. This is a pretty long post. I guess that suits the title.
To make it even longer, here's a cool infographic I found:
By geek, I mean language geek, to be more precise. Though I will admit that I have a distinct bias towards East Asian languages, since I'm most familiar with them after English.
I got so excited the other day when I was reading my Korean language book that I received for Christmas (see? I asked for that for Christmas = I am a language geek), and I could understand an entire written conversation without the use of translators. I suppose that would be rewarding for any student of any language, but this accomplishment was the product of countless hours poring over dubious sources on the internet, pasting words into multiple translators to see what they might really mean, attempting to translate song lyrics, documenting the uses of every single particle I discovered, and writing random Korean words over and over whenever I had pencil and paper to familiarize myself with the writing system.
So reading that conversation felt good. Really good.
One of the most discouraging things in the world is when you paste "dama" into Google Translate, and it comes out "dama."
I think I love and hate Google Translate at the same time. On one hand, the dictionary-ish thing that pops up for single words can be extremely helpful in figuring out various uses for them, and it's great for translating simple vocabulary terms that I just don't know--and for Chinese, the "read phonetically" function aids me tremendously, because it gives me the pinyin needed to type the characters. On the other hand, I will be frank: it's well known that the grammar is atrocious.
"I like that cat better because it's prettier than other cats" in Chinese becomes "I prefer the cat, the cat because it is beautiful than the other."
Also, I don't know how much to trust the thing, period. I put "한치 (hanchi)" in once, trying to find out what it means after hearing it in a song, and I got "FLAMMABLE LIMIT". I don't think that was quite right.
I also have a love-hate relationship with my Mandarin Chinese course. Firstly, I love it simply because it's teaching me Chinese, and that is a language that I am totally ashamed to not already know. My parents are both fluent in Mandarin as well as a few other dialects. I feel like I should be, too. Most of my relatives speak Chinese. Some of them don't speak good English. I want to be able to talk to them.
One of the good things about the course is that it makes me write and read a lot, which is absolutely essential for any foreign language, but especially so for learning Chinese characters. Another good thing is that when we are given passages to read, my teacher never provides the pinyin (phonetic spelling of the characters, in case you didn't know) along with it. I know that other Chinese students can have problems with learning the actual characters when the pinyin is always included, because they end up just reading the alphabet they're familiar with in order to recognize words. I'm forced to memorize the characters themselves. No alphabet. Just words. MEMORIZE.
But then, my teacher also forgets to include pinyin when she's first teaching us new vocabulary. It took me a while to figure out that I had to just go to the course dictionary to find how to spell something. Before that, I just stared at the complicated characters, baffled as to how she expected us to just understand her sentences, grammar, sounds, new vocabulary, and all. Oh yeah, that's another thing. A lot of times she gives us long PowerPoint presentations to teach us new stuff, and there will be absolutely no translations inside. You have to figure everything out from prior knowledge and the pictures. Perhaps it's an attempt to simulate the way you'd learn through immersion. Just figure it out yourself.
I think that's a little similar to Rosetta Stone. Supposedly, you're going to "learn like a child." I wonder if that really works without actual immersion in a separate culture, where you'd be forced to use the new language all the time. Can you learn like a child while sitting at your computer and listening to one person's voice speak?
Maybe. I've survived through my course so far. All the same, I'd really like it if my teacher gave us translations.
If anyone asked me whether Korean or Chinese was harder--a question I think I've received at least once--I don't have a definitive answer. Both are really quite difficult for the native English speaker, but definitely not impossible for the dedicated student. Korean's writing system and phonetics are simple, a whole ton easier than the Chinese characters and tonal phonetics...but its complicated grammar structure and nearly inseparable connection to hierarchial Korean culture balance out any difficulty advantage that the alphabet provides. (Seriously, you use a different set of vocabulary and conjugate all your verbs differently depending on the societal status of the person you're speaking to.) Chinese grammar is a little more similar to English. IF YOU ARE CONSIDERING PICKING ONE OF THESE LANGUAGES TO LEARN, I RECOMMEND CHINESE, NOT BECAUSE IT IS MY HERITAGE AND I AM BIASED, BUT BECAUSE IT WILL PROBABLY SERVE MORE USEFUL IN YOUR FUTURE, AS CHINA IS A RISING WORLD POWER RIGHT NOW. AND IF YOU WANT AN EASY LANGUAGE, JUST GO FOR A EUROPEAN ONE THAT IS RELATED TO ENGLISH.
I haven't dabbled much in other languages. I took a little bit of Spanish when I was maybe ten, so I forget virtually all of that. I took an eight-week course in German once, but I forget most of that too. I tried learning Irish once. It's not as bad as Welsh, but the phonetics and spelling hardly made any sense to me, so I never really got past that. Japanese is one of those languages that I think I'll get to studying sometime in my future, but I'm not too interested at the moment. And Latin...eh. I learned that for a little while too. I will probably find my old books and go through them at some point soon, since I'm aiming to study biomedical stuffs, and it'll help.
Then, I'll learn Icelandic and Nahuatl and Aboriginal Australian. 'Cause I totally have the time. Pfft.
Oh wow. This is a pretty long post. I guess that suits the title.
To make it even longer, here's a cool infographic I found:
Sunday, January 1, 2012
New Year's Resolutions
I've never really made New Year's resolutions. I can't recall a single year when I made one, remembered it through the whole twelve months, and actually accomplished something about it by the end of December. Perhaps I didn't make resolutions because I was a little disillusioned, thinking that they didn't really work, and why do they have to be resolutions every new year? Why not just make resolutions throughout the year? Something like that.
I still don't believe too much in New Year's resolutions--at least not as anything magical as I might be tempted to make them seem. Yes, I do believe that they can be useful, as in, the beginning of a new year is a convenient mark to begin implementing changes in one's life. But the changes can't happen all at once (though wouldn't that be nice?). It's slow. They'll take a while.
I am not articulating this as well as I hoped I would.
Anyway, I'm making New Year's resolutions and documenting them for the first time this year, because while they won't happen very quickly, at least it's a starting point. And starting points to slow change are better than not changing at all.
I want to draw closer to God.
This is my ultimate resolution for the year, the one that umbrellas over all the rest.
I had something of an emotional breakdown the other day, in which I basically realized that the way I'm living is all messed up--priorities, time management, and everything. It coincides with the fact that my spiritual life has been dry recently from neglecting to read the Word and neglecting to pray, among other things. I'm aiming to put my life back together in a structured way that optimizes my productivity for God's glory. And first things first, I need to put my Heavenly Father right in the middle of that structure. I need to know Him and learn to hear His voice, because without that, my soul will starve and search for fulfillment in all the wrong places.
In that vein, I want to read my Bible and pray every day.
The Bible is God's Word. The Bible is primarily how God speaks to me. Here, the living God is speaking, yet I so often forget to open these pages and listen to what He wants to say. If I want to know God, I've just gotta read my Bible! • THIS MEANS THAT ALL YOU READERS ARE GIVEN PERMISSION TO NAG ME AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE TO DO MY DEVOTIONS DAILY. IN FACT, I ASK YOU TO. PLEASE.
And as for prayer... I read a Desiring God blog post a while ago that dealt with being spiritually lukewarm, which is to be self-satisfied with your spiritual condition: essentially, complacent. Complacency is one of the most dangerous places to be. The opposite? Needy. How do I know if I'm needy? Well, how much do I pray? Praying consistently, praying like a beggar who desperately needs grace in everything, praying as a child learning to talk to her Father, praying for joy, holiness, boldness--without it, I don't know how I expect myself to grow in godliness at all.
I also want to manage my time well.
I don't.
Procrastination--and its cousin, time-wasting--have not served me in my attempts to read my Bible regularly or bless my mom by doing housework or reach for excellence in playing piano. I feel like I've allowed school to swallow my life, and it really doesn't have to.
Randy Pausch has an extremely insightful and helpful lecture on time management. I am hoping to implement his ideas in my scheduling and planning as 2012 begins. I recommend bookmarking that video and watching it when you have an hour or so to spare. It is really, really good. (Alternatively, it's also available as an mp3 download on iTunesU.)
I want to get organized.
Right now, my desk is in okay-shape, but I don't have any concrete filing system for my papers, nor a good place nearby to put all my textbooks. Woe is me. Did you know that when your necessary materials for an assignment are not within an accessible distance, it becomes incredibly easy to procrastinate and just not do the assignment? Maybe that only happens for me, but oh does it happen. This is probably one of the things I'll need to spend a lot of effort on early in the year, so I can be prepared for the rest of 2012.
The other thing that needs to get organized is my room, which currently looks like a junk-pile with an unmade bed in the corner. I'm probably going to need to throw a lot of things away and designate specific places for everything else. Keeping my room clean, or at least making a system that makes it very simple to clean, is one of my main goals this year.
I want to take good care of my body.
Mostly meaning exercise more and sleep more. I've become a weak vegetable of a human lately from sitting around all day. I did two pushups a few days ago, and it made my arms sore. It's absolutely pathetic. That needs to change. Exercising my core muscles will also probably help with my back pain that comes when I stand up too long. I strengthened that before when I was actually doing physical therapy for my back, and it worked. So I'm gonna try to do it again. And more pushups. I hate how weak my arms are.
Sleeping is equally, if not more important. I know it's essential for any teenager, but I also know that fatigue triggers my epilepsy, so I think I have to be more conscientious and careful about my sleeping patterns than I have been for the past few years. Time management plays a lot into this!
I want to learn to be a joyful servant.
To family, friends, and community at large. 'Nuff said.
Aaaand that's all I can think of for now.
Welcome, new year!
I am gonna DO stuff.
I still don't believe too much in New Year's resolutions--at least not as anything magical as I might be tempted to make them seem. Yes, I do believe that they can be useful, as in, the beginning of a new year is a convenient mark to begin implementing changes in one's life. But the changes can't happen all at once (though wouldn't that be nice?). It's slow. They'll take a while.
I am not articulating this as well as I hoped I would.
Anyway, I'm making New Year's resolutions and documenting them for the first time this year, because while they won't happen very quickly, at least it's a starting point. And starting points to slow change are better than not changing at all.
I want to draw closer to God.
This is my ultimate resolution for the year, the one that umbrellas over all the rest.
I had something of an emotional breakdown the other day, in which I basically realized that the way I'm living is all messed up--priorities, time management, and everything. It coincides with the fact that my spiritual life has been dry recently from neglecting to read the Word and neglecting to pray, among other things. I'm aiming to put my life back together in a structured way that optimizes my productivity for God's glory. And first things first, I need to put my Heavenly Father right in the middle of that structure. I need to know Him and learn to hear His voice, because without that, my soul will starve and search for fulfillment in all the wrong places.
In that vein, I want to read my Bible and pray every day.
The Bible is God's Word. The Bible is primarily how God speaks to me. Here, the living God is speaking, yet I so often forget to open these pages and listen to what He wants to say. If I want to know God, I've just gotta read my Bible! • THIS MEANS THAT ALL YOU READERS ARE GIVEN PERMISSION TO NAG ME AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE TO DO MY DEVOTIONS DAILY. IN FACT, I ASK YOU TO. PLEASE.
And as for prayer... I read a Desiring God blog post a while ago that dealt with being spiritually lukewarm, which is to be self-satisfied with your spiritual condition: essentially, complacent. Complacency is one of the most dangerous places to be. The opposite? Needy. How do I know if I'm needy? Well, how much do I pray? Praying consistently, praying like a beggar who desperately needs grace in everything, praying as a child learning to talk to her Father, praying for joy, holiness, boldness--without it, I don't know how I expect myself to grow in godliness at all.
I also want to manage my time well.
I don't.
Procrastination--and its cousin, time-wasting--have not served me in my attempts to read my Bible regularly or bless my mom by doing housework or reach for excellence in playing piano. I feel like I've allowed school to swallow my life, and it really doesn't have to.
Randy Pausch has an extremely insightful and helpful lecture on time management. I am hoping to implement his ideas in my scheduling and planning as 2012 begins. I recommend bookmarking that video and watching it when you have an hour or so to spare. It is really, really good. (Alternatively, it's also available as an mp3 download on iTunesU.)
I want to get organized.
Right now, my desk is in okay-shape, but I don't have any concrete filing system for my papers, nor a good place nearby to put all my textbooks. Woe is me. Did you know that when your necessary materials for an assignment are not within an accessible distance, it becomes incredibly easy to procrastinate and just not do the assignment? Maybe that only happens for me, but oh does it happen. This is probably one of the things I'll need to spend a lot of effort on early in the year, so I can be prepared for the rest of 2012.
The other thing that needs to get organized is my room, which currently looks like a junk-pile with an unmade bed in the corner. I'm probably going to need to throw a lot of things away and designate specific places for everything else. Keeping my room clean, or at least making a system that makes it very simple to clean, is one of my main goals this year.
I want to take good care of my body.
Mostly meaning exercise more and sleep more. I've become a weak vegetable of a human lately from sitting around all day. I did two pushups a few days ago, and it made my arms sore. It's absolutely pathetic. That needs to change. Exercising my core muscles will also probably help with my back pain that comes when I stand up too long. I strengthened that before when I was actually doing physical therapy for my back, and it worked. So I'm gonna try to do it again. And more pushups. I hate how weak my arms are.
Sleeping is equally, if not more important. I know it's essential for any teenager, but I also know that fatigue triggers my epilepsy, so I think I have to be more conscientious and careful about my sleeping patterns than I have been for the past few years. Time management plays a lot into this!
I want to learn to be a joyful servant.
To family, friends, and community at large. 'Nuff said.
Aaaand that's all I can think of for now.
Welcome, new year!
I am gonna DO stuff.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
December Days
This time of year, the world swirls and scurries
like no other month.
I stand and watch,
and I hear so many voices calling--
buy this, or maybe ask for that,
and after all the shopping,
we can frolic in the snow.
If you're well-behaved,
then Santa brings you things,
unless you don't think he exists.
Then other people give you things,
and you give them things too,
and everyone is positively bursting
with all the holiday spirit--
And this is what we call
Christmas.
I stand and listen,
and I hear a soft voice speak,
telling me a story I've heard before.
Years ago, on another bustling night,
where quiet was all but impossible to find--
innkeepers busy with new guests,
shopkeepers with new customers,
as people traveled near and far--
the angels were singing in the fields.
Peace, they said.
Glory to God and
peace,
because Immanuel has come.
So while the world is hurrying and worrying,
I will look upon a Savior,
One who came unnoticed
in the midst of a season more like this
than often we might think.
I find my peace
because a child was born to die
for me--
For me!
This is what I will know as
Christmas:
Christ the Lord is here.
like no other month.
I stand and watch,
and I hear so many voices calling--
buy this, or maybe ask for that,
and after all the shopping,
we can frolic in the snow.
If you're well-behaved,
then Santa brings you things,
unless you don't think he exists.
Then other people give you things,
and you give them things too,
and everyone is positively bursting
with all the holiday spirit--
And this is what we call
Christmas.
I stand and listen,
and I hear a soft voice speak,
telling me a story I've heard before.
Years ago, on another bustling night,
where quiet was all but impossible to find--
innkeepers busy with new guests,
shopkeepers with new customers,
as people traveled near and far--
the angels were singing in the fields.
Peace, they said.
Glory to God and
peace,
because Immanuel has come.
So while the world is hurrying and worrying,
I will look upon a Savior,
One who came unnoticed
in the midst of a season more like this
than often we might think.
I find my peace
because a child was born to die
for me--
For me!
This is what I will know as
Christmas:
Christ the Lord is here.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Breathing is Good
I never realized how beautiful it is to be able to breathe normally until last night, when I couldn't.
Maybe it was some sort of virus brewing since my first signs of a cough on Saturday. Maybe I overexerted myself doing something.
(In retrospect, maybe going iceskating wasn't such a good idea? Oh well, it was such a good time that I don't regret it.)
Whatever it was, I couldn't breathe last night without my lungs hurting like I'd stuck them in a freezer, where they were burning with the cold. It's one of the worst kinds of pains ever, because if you hold your breath, it hurts too in a different way, and you'll probably die. So you're in anguish every few seconds, either way.
It kept me up until roughly five in the morning. The most annoying part of not being able to sleep was that "Come Home" by OneRepublic was stuck in my head. The same song, all night. And my breathing didn't match with the rhythm. Gah.
I was only able to fall asleep when I deliberately pushed the song out of my head and replaced it with another. Or perhaps it wasn't exactly me who replaced it. I had been praying for much of the night--ranging from friends and family to babblings about my life, but by that time it had turned into a desperate repeating of God, I just want to stop hurting, stop the hurting, stop the hurting.
And it was this song that popped into my head:
But...do I really long to sing of Jesus who died for me? When was the last time I longed to sing about this wonderful gift? When did I cease to be constantly amazed that the very Son of God would die for me?
My greatest problem has already been taken care of, when my sins were nailed to the cross with Him and were thus atoned for.
I lay there thinking about the glories of Calvary, and though the pain in my lungs was still there, I didn't mind it as much. I finally slept with those thoughts on my heart.
I am mostly okay now. My breathing is good and doesn't hurt too much anymore. I don't, however, want to leave the sharp, clear view of the gospel that came with the pain.
A thousand songs I would sing.
And I really did want to sing, but I've lost my voice D:
Maybe it was some sort of virus brewing since my first signs of a cough on Saturday. Maybe I overexerted myself doing something.
(In retrospect, maybe going iceskating wasn't such a good idea? Oh well, it was such a good time that I don't regret it.)
Whatever it was, I couldn't breathe last night without my lungs hurting like I'd stuck them in a freezer, where they were burning with the cold. It's one of the worst kinds of pains ever, because if you hold your breath, it hurts too in a different way, and you'll probably die. So you're in anguish every few seconds, either way.
It kept me up until roughly five in the morning. The most annoying part of not being able to sleep was that "Come Home" by OneRepublic was stuck in my head. The same song, all night. And my breathing didn't match with the rhythm. Gah.
I was only able to fall asleep when I deliberately pushed the song out of my head and replaced it with another. Or perhaps it wasn't exactly me who replaced it. I had been praying for much of the night--ranging from friends and family to babblings about my life, but by that time it had turned into a desperate repeating of God, I just want to stop hurting, stop the hurting, stop the hurting.
And it was this song that popped into my head:
My heart is filled with a thousand songsI had to stop and think about that. With every breath? Is this perfect for my situation or what?
Proclaiming the glories of Calvary
With every breath, Lord how I long
To sing of Jesus who died for me
Lord take me deeper into the glories of Calvary
But...do I really long to sing of Jesus who died for me? When was the last time I longed to sing about this wonderful gift? When did I cease to be constantly amazed that the very Son of God would die for me?
My greatest problem has already been taken care of, when my sins were nailed to the cross with Him and were thus atoned for.
Sinners find eternal joy in the triumph of your woundsWhat a miracle that I can even speak to God now, that He is my Father and listens to me.
By our Savior's crimson flow, holy wrath has been removed
I lay there thinking about the glories of Calvary, and though the pain in my lungs was still there, I didn't mind it as much. I finally slept with those thoughts on my heart.
I am mostly okay now. My breathing is good and doesn't hurt too much anymore. I don't, however, want to leave the sharp, clear view of the gospel that came with the pain.
A thousand songs I would sing.
And I really did want to sing, but I've lost my voice D:
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