Important Story

I will be concluding my blog submissions for this class with one more tale. This story is probably my most embarrassing, but has the most significant message at the end, so pay attention! (Please note that some aspects of this story will be altered for narrative purposes.)

My family is not very religious, but since my mother grew up in a devoted Christian household, she occasionally feels obligated to go to church. We went to the Unitarian Universalist Church in Champaign-Urbana, which isn’t really a Christian focused church, but, to me, it was still boring nonetheless. The worst part of going to church was Sunday School. More school on the weekend was a definite no from me. My worst Sunday School experience was a day where I made an incredibly questionable choice, that led to one of my most cringe worthy memories.

Instead of regular class, we had a cleaning/organizing day. My task was to take inventory of church related things in some room. When I entered the room, I was taken aback by its overall dustiness and dinginess. It was certainly a creepy setting, which was strike one for me! The work itself was not difficult, but the scary room made me uneasy. After about 20 minutes, as I lifted a box, a cockroach jumped out and ran away. I squealed in terror, almost dropping the box! This was strike two! I continued to work, but was growing increasingly spooked. Then, I heard horrifying rustling sounds coming from the window in the room. I turned and to my dismay, observed giant rat creatures climbing on the grates on the outside of the window. Strike three! I was utterly terrified but knew I had to finish the work I was assigned. So in my head I thought the best option to deescalate the situation would be to somehow scare them away. I saw a basketball and decided I would throw it at the window and the noise would make the rats scurry away. I forgot, however, to take into account that the building is decrepit, so the windows were super weak. I threw the ball with minimal force, as I was just trying to have it bounce back to me, and as it collided with the window there was a small explosion of glass. I busted the whole thing and there was glass everywhere. Shocked and fearing the consequences, I quickly put the basketball back where I found it and finished taking inventory.

I went straight to my parents and we left shortly after. My hope was that the Sunday School people would forget who they assigned to what task, so I wouldn’t get blamed. This was not the case. A few hours later my parents got an email from the person in charge of the Sunday School program and asked them if I had any idea what happened to the window. I told my parents I had no clue what this man was talking about, and my parents replied saying I was innocent. Well it turns out they wrote down who did what task and I was the only one who worked in the spooky room. There clearly was not a big, broken window before I went in the room so no one else could’ve done it. So, I was exposed by the church and my parents had to pay for the damages. I was severely punished for my actions.

The moral of the story is to never throw basketballs at windows and if you do, don’t lie to a church and your parents.

One Syllable

I do not like most foods that are good for your health. One kind of food that is good for your health that I do like are fruits. Fruits are sweet, which makes them taste good in my mouth. Since I was a small boy, I have loved fruits. One time I ate so many blue bear e’s that I threw up and it was blue as well. I think that tale from my past made me not like blue bear e’s now, but there are still lots of fruits that I like to eat. From app pulls to man goes, I munch on fruits each day of the week. The best fruit to me rhymes with this string of words: clem in time. Can you guess what this fruit could be? What’s sad is since I bite my nails, it is very hard for me to open this fruit. One more fruit fact about me is that I just like raw fruits. Fruit pies and things like app pull sauce are so gross to me. The first time I had app pull pie I said, “No.” and have not had a fruit pie since then. The one way, that’s not raw, that I do like is fruit juice. I could drink a whole jug of oh range juice in one day! It’s a good thing that I love fruits so much, or else I would not eat foods that cause good health.

For most of elementary school I attended a tiny private school, called Montessori Habitat School. While I have very strong words about my time there, I’ll say it was an “interesting” school. Academically speaking, it was complete garbage, but to start this blog post I want to talk a little about my social experience at the school. The kids there, including myself, were pretty sheltered and economically privileged. I think the status of the students there created a general lack of social awareness of certain customs that most other students would know about. Unique student dynamics formed because of this and one that I want to address is bullying, or a lack thereof. From my point of view, bullying was never a significant issue at the school and since it was such a small school I assume other students thought this as well. Of course there was joking around with your friends where they might mock or mimic you, but it was never taken seriously. Because of this, I didn’t really care about what I looked like or how I dressed. I didn’t like haircuts, so I grew out my hair. My mom picked all the clothes I wore, which were pretty questionable most of the time. I looked like a sewer rat but didn’t care because my rodent like appearance was never pointed out by classmates.

Fast forward to the start of 5th grade when I transferred to Garden Hills Elementary School. Everything was different. There were more than five kids per class, more than four minority students in the school, and I finally got to have a desk! (At Montessori we worked on small rugs…) My overall academic and social experience at public school was incredibly positive. It was however, the first time I had to deal with “bullying.” I use quotations because it really wasn’t too severe and I don’t want to compare what I went through to the experiences of people who actually have to deal with bullying. One of my earliest memories at Garden Hills was when I was sitting in the bus line and two kids pointed at my legs and started laughing. I never used lotion, so I was an ashy little kid. They spent like three minutes cooking my grey legs. I took this super personally, and can say since then I stay well moisturized (if I am ashy in public, I still get pretty embarrassed). Similar situations happened throughout my time at Garden Hills and through Franklin Middle School and Uni. The thing is, the ashy story and other examples like it were not that bad. I think my own insecurities about myself and my background at Montessori made me really internalize what people say about me, whether they’re negative or positive. It’s almost an irrational fear of standing out and looking dumb in front of people. It’s prohibited me from going out for certain opportunities and even speaking up in class. Before I go to college, I really need to get over this unhealthy mindset because I know I’ll miss out on so many important opportunities all from a dumb mental block! The moral of this blog post is to never go to Montessori Habitat School if you are an insecure person.

One of the oldest hobbies of mine that I still keep up with today is visual art. It’s relaxing and is the purest form of self expression to me. I’ve done a lot of painting and three dimensional art, to a lesser extent, but drawing is my favorite mode of art. Cliché or not, for as long as I can remember I’ve been doodling and making actual finished “pieces”. I loved making my own comic books, mostly referencing aspects of popular culture seen through the eyes of a 5-10 year old. My mom has kept one of my comics, “Batman vs. Harry Potter,” for almost a decade, and constantly reminds me that it was the peak of my creativity. While it pains me to admit it, but she wasn’t wrong. After middle school, my interest in drawing took a nosedive. I don’t think I have any drawings from that period in my life, and I keep all of them. High school provided me with opportunities to rekindle my interest in art, through required and eventually elected classes. However, my creative side wasn’t instantly rejuvenated with the art classes. I found myself trying to recreate scenes or people on paper with as much detail and precision as possible. This isn’t necessarily a bad skill to develop as an artist, there also isn’t much room to make it personal. As my high school art career progressed I became increasingly bored with realistic drawings, so I began to add my own quirks to them. They were still detailed, but, I’d purposefully alter aspects of people’s faces or body, like a realistic caricature. I get much more satisfaction from looking at a finished drawing that I know is 100% mine. I don’t have many pastimes or passions, and none that I’ve had for as long as drawing, so art is something I plan or pursuing through college and beyond!

If you’ve seen me in the hallway, you might have noticed that I’m always wearing earbuds. Maybe you’ve even pondered what I could be utilizing such a device for. Well, it turns out I listen to music whilst my Apple EarPods are fixed above my earlobe. Listening to music is something I enjoy very much. I’d say it’s quite possibly my favorite activity to partake in. But what could be so enthralling about this auditory experience? The following formation of words will provide an answer to this question.

1. As a hobby, listening to music is so easy! Other pastimes like knitting or drawing or some kind of physical activity all require work to some extent, maybe even skill! Listening to music requires no work nor skill! It’s just you and your tunes.
2. If you want to watch movies or television programs you have to set aside time to do so. When you don’t set aside time and still watch a movie or show, you’re cutting into time that could be spent doing homework or writing essays for college. It’s sad really… On the other hand, you can listen to music at anytime, anywhere (except at the dinner table, then your mother might scold you!). In fact, when I am doing my homework or writing essays for college, I plant my earbuds in my ears and allow the subsequent sounds to provide background noise that makes the arduous workload somewhat pleasurable. For those of you that find this distracting to yourself, I send my condolences.
3. For any tryhards that like to be challenged, fear not! Listening to music doesn’t have to be entirely for relaxation purposes or to be played in the background. Politically charged and socially conscious music provide great ways to engage in literary explication. The 2015 album, To Pimp a Butterfly, is an excellent example. I myself am not keen enough to fully understand the themes and messages found in the album, so I had to rely on Genius.com annotations. Regardless, if you listen to the album while reading the lyrics and really try to understand what’s being said, your brain will get its exercise for the day!
4. 2 Chainz exists

Some Music Recommendations:

Sike! You thought! Music preference is subjective. Go find your own songs or albums to titillate your auditory sense.

2016

In my previous blog post, I detailed a bone rattling encounter with an enormous, crocodilian iguana in Costa Rica. I concluded by warning the reader that if you fear grotesque reptiles, Costa Rica is not the place for you. However, as one of my classmates pointed out in the comment section, I did indeed return to the rainforested Central American country. Again, this was not a normal family vacation. It was entirely school related. Uni High’s Spanish language class’ biennial excursion to different Spanish speaking countries took us to Nicaragua and Costa Rica that year. It required copious amounts of willpower to venture back, but, like the first trip, was an incredible experience. This time, there was much more than the tropical fruits and warmth and such. Through hours of driving, hiking, and even zip lining, Costa Rica’s magnificence was further exemplified. And best of all, I came across no scary lizards! All this being said, the humorous pessimist I try so hard to be is obligated to recall a harrowing interaction at a chocolate museum.

When our tour guide announced that we would be visiting a chocolate museum, I was ecstatic, as chocolate is very good when it comes to taste. The museum offered the opportunity to make your own chocolate, from roasting the cacao beans to customizing your chocolate bar with nuts. Before we started I thought there was nothing that would make this a bad experience in the slightest. I was very wrong. This disturbing entity came in the form of the chocolate museum guide. I’m going to interrupt my current prose, because I cannot explain the levels of cringe that this man exuded without speaking normally. Most guides have to be overly friendly. Some might really try to be your friend. But when you have one that is overly friendly, tries to be your friend, and thinks he’s a comedian, then you know it’s going to be a bad time. This was our guide. I had to suffer through over an hour of straight corn. When we were mixing our hot chocolate, he made us all yell “Báte, Báte Chocolate!” like an episode of Dora. Unless you were a suburban white family, who would probably think this made them cultured,  this was a rather torturous experience. This wasn’t even the worst part for me! My memory of this next incident is foggy, most likely due to repression. He or someone else was talking about milk, then out of nowhere he looks at me and says I look like a need to drink more milk! Like I was some sort of malnourished child! I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to insult me to that degree! This corny man had thoroughly humiliated me! And the chocolate was kind of nasty too…

After writing this I realized that this was in Nicaragua, not Costa Rica.

The moral of the story is don’t go to Nicaragua if you don’t like corny chocolate museum guides.

2006

At the tender age of 6, still a little, bouncy boy, my family and I traversed to a land known as Costa Rica. The intention of said trip was not for leisure exclusively, instead, a much more momentous occasion: my aunt and uncle-in-law were hosting a gathering to witness their joining in matrimony, or a wedding. Needless to say, the trip was an incredible experience. Costa Rica is truly a magnificent country, with its tropical fruits and warmth and such. I recall frolicking down the beach with the company of my cousins. There were so many pleasant memories regarding this long distance outing. However, I had an encounter that rattles my bones to this day!

Everyone was eating breakfast but my hunger became satisfied rather quickly due to my small body. I asked to be excused, most likely to retrieve my beach frolicking slippers, and ventured to our room. As I sauntered towards my destination, I came across a walkway surrounded by tall trees and beautiful herbage. My curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to take that path instead. It only took a few steps for me to realize I had just made a grave mistake.

I came across a reptilian creature that forced me to stop dead in my tracks. An iguana! Not just any iguana! This one was very large, like a teenaged crocodile! Up until that point, I had no inkling that a fear of hideous reptiles affected me, but as soon as I peered into its beady eyes, I knew. Tears began to formulate in my eyes and steadily stream down my face. At this point, some might wonder why I didn’t just turn around. Well, I was quite literally frozen in place. This scaled monster had petrified me! I stood there crying like a babe for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, my brave grandfather found me and had to carry me away. With each step away from the iguana, I became increasingly at peace.

The moral of the story is don’t go to Costa Rica if you don’t like reptiles, because I’m pretty sure there was a poisonous snake on the roof of one of the restaurants too.