LA VIE BOHEME

I want to share my written works with people who will give both praise and constructive criticism. I'm also going to be updating my friends and family, in short, everyone I love, on what my life is like abroad. Once I leave that is.

3/29/2007

Shipping Out!

Howdy y'all!

Haha, if I ever say that again, shoot me. Just do it. Anyway, I am posting just to let you know that I AM ON SPRING BREAK hahahaha AND LEAVING FOR THAILAND WITHIN MINUTES!!!! Ahem. Better now. I'll take pictures and write to you when I get home.
Bye lovelies!

3/27/2007

"If we shadows have offended

Think but this and all is mended
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear
And this weak an didle theme
No more yeilding than a dream
Gentles do not reprehend
If you pardon we will mend
As I am an honest Puck
And if we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue
We will make amends ere long
Else the Puck a liar call
So goodnight unto you all!"

Woo hoo!! I don't know if I told any of you, but SSIS is putting on a very very very watered down adapted version of A Midsummer Night's Dream. I read for Puck in the audition, and got the part!!!!! I am SOOOOO psyched!!!! And guess what? Adam, with the fabulous hair, is my Oberon. HAha, fuuuun stuff. It is going to be SWEET!

3/22/2007

Ho Chi Minh City Rain

Let me tell you a story. It's about a girl...and her life...and the rain.

Her day in school had been...less than satisfactory. She'd had nervous fun in her drama group, because the boy she liked was there. After the group ended, she ruined her almost good mood by asking the boy if he wanted to hang out over the weekend. She was blown off. Not a yes, but not a proper no. Then again, most people don't give a proper no. They give the stragtegic blow off.

The girl met up with her one of her best friend/mom substitutes and they biked home. The girl told the whol sorry saga. Her friend was compassionate, but there wasn't much she could do...there wasn't much anyone could do. She had to get over this one on her own. But everyone is entitled to a little tiny bit of slump time after such a thing, and the girl just had to take it.

It was no fun though. The girl sat on the couch at home and stared at the ceiling. The only thought repeatedly crossing her mind was, Rejected again. She sat like that for awhile. Nothing could make her cheer up. Not her baby brothers, not her book, nothing...until.

The rain came in one big boom. No gradual, building trickle. No, it came hard and fast. The girl sat up. She looked out at the water pouring outside. She made a fast, almost subconcious decision. It was the right one.

Running out the door, the water beat down on her head and shoulders. The Ho Chi Minh City streets were singing from the joy of the rain. It has been a long time since the rains last came. The girl at first just stood there. Then she twirled around and screamed from pure euphoria. She began to run and dance. Tilting her face upward and continously thanking the heavens for this wonderful rain. Her bare feet slapped the warm pavement. Water ran from her clothes to add the the river on the ground. Her hair hung in wet ropes around her glistening face.

As the girl danced, she let go of everything. Without even realizing it. She was free. The rain welcomed her exhiliaration, it's fingers stroking her hair face and body ever faster. It screamed with her as thunder rolled. On some level, it understood the gift it was. As she lifted her face again, it left precious drops on her tongue. The taste could not have been sweeter. The girl savored it.

Reluctantly, she came inside and was halfway wrapped in a towel before one of her brothers came in, his chest bare and dripping with the wonderful rain. She hesitated a second, before removing her own shirt and joining him in more rain dancing. They loved the fresh, natural feeling of the sky water beating their skin. They twirled and screamed and paid homage to the rain with the love and freedom coursing through them and strangling all unhappiness with joy in its simplest form.

When the winds began, the two were finally forced inside. They weren't quite cold, but they knew when to stop. They gracefully wrapped in dry towels and dressed themselves in clean clothes.

The girl did not return to her slump state. The rain still pounded out it's friendly loving message on the window.

The message?

Throw your head back and dance. Love nature, for it loves you. Above all else, don't let how others see someting make your thoughts. The rain is looked on as a bad omen, but you know of it's kindness. Things that happen in life can be seen as bad, but that doesn't mean they are thus. Rejoice at everything that comes your way, for it is a gift.

3/20/2007

"At least you look good in the swim suit. That's all that matters."

Haha, that was a Taylor quote. And so true. Our black, red and orange suits are hot with a W let me tell you.

The swim meet yesterday went pretty well. My relay team came in dead last, but hey, as I told Adam, I did the fastest 50 meters of my life. Freestyle baby! No water in goggles on dive, no water up the nose on flipturn, it's a personal victory!

SSIS did pretty well over all. There were three other schools; BIS (British International School), ISHCMC (called ish-mik, International School of Ho Chi Minh City), and ABC (I have no idea.) I think we might have won, but it was so close Iwon't know until announcements this morning anyway.

Must dash! School time!

3/19/2007

Hillary loves Caroline!

Oh my god! You are WONDERFUL! People, if you haven't and you are a teenager or just curious, you should read CAroline's comment on the Teen Thoughts blog. It was so sweet!

Oh, and dahling, I would love to hop over for your birthday, but I somehow don't think that would be parentally condoned. Ah well. So, since I don't get to sing and humiliate you in front of your friends, here goes:
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to the-most-amazingly-struman-Caroline,
Happy birthday to you!

Have I mentioned that you are FABULOUS? Cuz you really are! <3

3/17/2007

Teenage Thoughts

I lie in bed at night hugging my pink bunny rabbit pillow (aka Fluffy. Shut up. Don't even start.) and ask myself unanswerable questions. What is my purpose? Why am I here? What am I destined to do with my life? Do I even believe in destiny? Do we determine our own fate? Or is it pre-determined? Does God really have a plan for each of us? Is it set in stone that it will definitely happen? Or is it a conjecture, a hope? What if I screw it up? What if the star I decide to chase is the wrong one? I won't know I'm at a dead end until I wack my face on a wall. Am I meant to be a teacher? A writer? An actor? Or something else entirely? IF I'm meant to be a writer, why haven't I written anything decent lately? If I'm meant to be an actor, how come I can't get a good part? If I'm meant to be a teacher why doesn't the thought of teaching excite me? If it's something else, WHAT IS IT? When will I know? How will I know it's the right thing? What am I doing in Viet Nam? Does traveling so far at 16 mean I'm going to spend my life travelling? Do I want to live a million different places? Or do I want to put down roots? What is my purpose in this life?


I guess it all comes down to time. There's never enough and yet there always seems to be too much. Not enough yet too much in Viet Nam, not enough yet too much in high school...not enough time on earth...and yet too much. Currently I'm most worried about my time running out in VN. I have a crush, and I can't fgiure out if he likes me back. I don't have time to sit around and wait. I have to act NOW. No day but today. On the flip side, it seems like forever until I'll get to hug my mom again..eat a cheeseburger not made of water buffalo...haha, kidding. I miss so much..yet I know that I'll miss here once I leave. I don't know if I've made enough of an impression to be remembered. Especially in a school where people are constantly coming and going. Six months isn't enough! And yet..hah, it's much too long.

I close with a quote from the brilliant Jonathan Larson's tick, tick...BOOM. Listen to the song Louder than Words. It's great.

"Why do we play with fire?
Why do we run our finger through the flame?
Why do we leave our hand on the stove
Although we know we're in for some pain
Oh why, do we refuse to hang a light
When the streets are dangerous
Why does it take an accident
Before the truth gets through to us?
Cages or wings,
Which do you prefer?
Ask the birds!
Fear or love baby
Don't say the answer
Actions speak louder then words
.....
What does it take?
To wake up a generation?
How do you make someone take off and fly?
If we don't wake up
And shake up the nation
We'll leave the dust of the world
Wondering why?"

3/15/2007

Re: Pic Details

Alrighty, on top we have the wonderful Jimmy! Below are the Aussies, Nicole and Mollie. Nikki is actually Singaporian (hence the Asian features) but she talks like an Aussie. Below are (left to right) Teal, Michael, Vikki. Bear in mind that Teal is usually brunette, Michael (when he has hair) is short blonde, and Vikki's is dark. Next is Amanda and her fantastic moh-no, FOhawk. Sorry, my error. After that is a cute pic of me and Hannah. Haha, gotta love those sunglasses. Then we have Taylor...wearing Vikki's afro ontop of her COMPLETELY NATURAL blonde curls. All she did was add water and brush. Wow. And finally Adam, who does look stunning in my glasses but who, nevertheless should never do that to his hair. Haha...SO! These are my friends. Fuuuun stuff!

Crazy Day!








FYI, Don't forget to look below to see Twin Day!

Details of Pics

Okay, at the top is Erin, the sole "white kid" participant in the theatre games club...well, until I get Adam there. Okay, next down center (the Cali-girl blonde) is Hannah, and peeking into the side of the pic is the other Erin. Haha..yeah. Below is Teal and Other Erin on Twin day obviously. Then we have Amanda, mi mejor amiga. She and I were twins but in the pic of us together I look like an idiot, so there she is. Next is me and Ben the Brit. His twin was Cameron, but again, bad pic of Cam, so I neglected to post it. Haha, under that is Adam being...Adam. hahaa. Then a bad picture of Ben, which I posted anyway. hahaha, tough luck Ben the Brit. Next is a candid shot of Taylor. Haha, she looks good even caught off guard. Peeking into the frame is half of Michael's face. Then me in my Twin Day outfit with Other Erin in hers. Haha, Adam took my camera and was having fun with it by taking pics of everyone in the vicinity. Then one more of Other Erin, and Twin Day pics are through. :( Ah well, Crazy Day is next! Stay tuned!

Spirit Week!











Twin Day and Mismatch/Crazy hair day were pretty much the only exciting things. Oh, and a pep rally this morning, but no pics of that.

"Beware the ides of March." ~Julius Caesar

Haha, happy ides of March everyone. BEWARE!

3/12/2007

Pet Count

Here is a sad sorry list of dead pets since my arrival in Viet Nam.

1 dead guinea pig
1 guinea pig ran away and most likely became rat food
1 dead kitten.

It's true. Sebastian died in the early hours of the morning. He wouldn't eat much yesterday, and he felt very cold all night.*sigh* ah well. I'll miss him.

3/11/2007

Shakespeare a la Orient

Very interesting experience. As you know, my English class has started reading Julius Caesar which, haha, I have already read and analyzed to within an inch of its life. Gag. Nevertheless, it is Shakespeare, so it has my love and admiration.

Anyway, there are certain phrases and factoids...just little things mind, but they are unique to the western world and its literature and speech. For example, Casca, a character in Caesar, is referred to as a weasel. In western society, this would be perfectly understandable and clear. Not so in Viet Nam. My American English teacher had to explain to the Asian kids in the class what a weasel was and then what the metaphor meant. Cool huh? That is an experience you wouldn't get in West Virginia.

I find it so neat that something as fantastic as Shakespearean plays is not universal. Actually, they were geared to a very specific audience, namely, the good English citizens of the Elizabethan era. How is it that they have lived so long? I mean, most people sasdly are not as enamored of Shakespeare as I am. How is it that the plays are still revered as great works of art? I guess there must be enough people that appreciate them....haha, I can't find that many. None in this school actually. Ah well. Bye for now.

Sebastian

Wow. Let me tell you of Sebastian. It is quite a saga.

A few nights ago, Quest and his friend came running to the house yelling about a kitten. Anne told me, the res. cat expert, to go and see if it was old enough to be taken from its mother. I looked into Quest's t-shirt to see a baby baby baby kitten, eyes not even opened. I said, "Put it back. Now." They did. We watched it for a few hours, and no sign of its mommy. We decided that if left alone, its chances of survival were slim given the rats and the fact that it's mom ditched it! So we got it a box, fed it some milk from a dropper, and left it outside for the night in the hopes that it would be reclaimed by mom.

No such luck, kitty. The next morning we found box and kitty exactly as we'd left them, untouched and squealing. Well...what would you do? We adopted it of course! We spent the rerst of the day frantically buying kitty friendly milk, a bottle, and looking up info online about how to care for the thing. Upon discovering it was a he, Sol piped up that he'd always wanted to name a pet Sebastian. We thought it a bit early to be naming him, since we weren't sure of its survival.

Actually, we still aren't. But let me tell you, this kitten is a beast. It has Olympic lungs, made obvious by its tendency to cry; he is very active, which we can see from the incessent climbing up our bodies when we try to feed him; he has pooped, always a good sign; and he eats A LOT. I don't want to get too attached...agh,who am I kidding? If Sebastian died tomorrow, yeah...I'd be sad. Despite the fact that he pooped on BOTH of my tie-dyed t shirts...little rat! Not. haha. Wish young Sebastian luck in the world! He seems to enjoy it!

3/05/2007

Altruism

Bio teacher: Okay, pretend you guys are prairie dogs. Hmm, now I could make you crawl into you little holes...yeah, do that. Under your desks.

Class: uuugggh

Hillary and Vikki: Awesome! Sleep time!

Bio teacher: Now, everyone pop up for a second a see the food.

Class: uuggghh

Hillary: Ow! *bad word* I hit my head on the desk!

Vikki: Hahaha

Bio teacher: Now go back under a pick a sentinel to distract the hawk form Jimmy, who will come and snag the food.

Class: uugghhh

Hillary and Vikki: *laugh* Cameron! He's expendable!

Class: hahahha. uuggghhh

Bio teacher: Okay Cameron, poke your head up and watch out for me, the hawk. *bio teacher gives Cam a second to get oriented, then swoops down and "eats" him* Class, tell me, is altruism a gene?

Class: uuughghhh

Hillary and Vikki: Can we stay under here? It's nice.

Bio teacher: NAh, come on back up. Now, is altruism a gene?

*silence*

Brave student: No?

Bio teacher: Why?

*silence*

Bio teacher: What just happened to your sentinel?

Random student: He got eaten.

Bio teacher: Right. So if altruism is a gene, wouldn't it die out?

*murmur of assent*

Bio teacher: So is altruism a gene?

Hillary and Vikki: Can we go back under the desks?

3/04/2007

Sorry

I swear, technology is just not worth it. I tried to do nice little labels for all my pics, but they are messed up. Just don't try to read the tags. Just focus on the pics. They're still pretty decent.

Re: Cambodia


This enough pics?
Haha. Okay, the far one over is all of us in front of a stone god of the birds. This one >
is me at one of the only Mexican places in southeast Asia.


These are at the snake/croc show.



Elephant ride to the Bayon temple



Me feeding the elephant a banana

This
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Me posing as an Apsara below.
Me and Pete just below my Apsara
Above is Sol and I at a super cool restaurant called the Dead Fish. We ate on cushions on the floor!
^ More elephant ride


The far one is a tuk-tuk. Below is the boys and I at Angkor Wat.



Kenai and a mango flower, and an Angkor Wat face.







Diagonally up is me on the bus with Kenai asleep across my leg. ^ is Elan attacking a hamburger
I tried to think of what it was about Cambodia that I loved so much, but I can't put it into words. I have never felt such an immediate bond with a place. It was deep! Haha, I wouldn't want to live there, but I really, really liked it. And now you guys can see it. Don't get too distracted by these, my Cymbeline book report is just underneath!




3/03/2007

Book Report

For those of you who care about such things, this is my book report on Cymbeline. A great read! But it will be better onstage at YCTC this summer!!

William Shakespeare is the author of thirty-eight plays, some more widely known than others. Tragedy, comedy, history, and romance are all topics covered by the famous Bard of Avon. The romances are probably the least recognized works. Nevertheless, that is where the fantastical Cymbeline resides.
Set in medieval England, this play has the ornate décor of a British court, as well as the rough and tumble nature of the woods. Being one of Shakespeare’s later plays, the plot is strong and the language is beautiful. The reader is faced with bandits, kings, an evil step-mother, and all manner of classic fairy tale characters.
Meet Cymbeline, king of Britain. Currently Cymbeline’s main concerns are not matters of state. His two sons, Guiderius and Aviragus, were stolen from him many years ago. His beloved daughter, Princess Innogen, is in love with a commoner called Posthumous Leonatus. Cymbeline has exiled Posthumous, hoping his daughter would forget the impoverished man and fall in love with one of her rich suitors.
Innogen, however, will have none of it. By many scholars revered as the ideal woman, Innogen is fiercely loyal to Posthumous. Before his departure, she gives him a ring, and he gives her a bracelet. They write frequently, renewing declarations of love with every letter.
After Posthumous’ exile, he flees to Italy. There he falls in with Filario, Giacomo, and a few others. Giacomo, jealous of Posthumous’ love, places a bet against Innogen’s honor. He says that he believes he himself could draw her from her devotion. Posthumous has such faith in his lover that he bets the ring she gave him. He knows she will not be swayed by Giacomo.
Giacomo too discovers this when he goes to the court of Cymbeline. Innogen talks only of her love for Posthumous. She is most insulted when Giacomo tries to come on to her. She sends him away. Driven mad by his pride and jealousy, Giacomo returns to Italy crowing of his success. Posthumous, in a fit of anger and sorrow, orders his manservant Pisanio to take Innogen in to the woods and kill her. This is where the plot begins the spiraling journey usually characterized in Shakespeare’s comedies, not the romances.
Pisanio at the last moment balks at the idea of killing Innogen. Instead, he gives her a man’s clothing and tells her that her only hope of surviving and setting things right with her love is to masquerade as a man. Innogen, still in shock that her lord would have her killed consents to Pisanio’s plan and adopts the alias of Fidele, a young man.
Posthumous is not the only one who wishes Innogen’s death. Cloten, son of the wicked, scheming Queen, and Innogen’s step-brother, feels he was grievously insulted by the princess. He hears of her trip to the woods, and sets out to follow her. He resolves to kill her, a plan his mother has attempted to put into play for quite some time. This would have the double effect of eliminating the one to insult him, and making him Cymbeline’s only heir…at least the only heir whose whereabouts were known currently.
In the woods Innogen, now known as Fidele, comes upon a group of bandits who are in fact her lost brothers and their captor, a man called Belarius. Belarius was exiled from Cymbeline’s court and took the sons, Guiderius and Aviragus, as revenge on the monarch. Innogen does not realize the identity of the men and nor do her brothers, but Belarius does. Still desiring revenge, he decides to let the drama play out as it will.
After several long and complicated twists in the plot, the characters are restored to their rightful places. Innogen reveals herself to her father and Posthumous who, by this time, has realized that she was never disloyal to him and feels immense guilt at having ordered her death. Belarius feels himself sufficiently revenged, and returns Cymbeline’s sons to him. A typical Shakespearean ending, everything is revealed in the end and social order is restored.
Of the romances, Cymbeline is the one with the most variance. There are many elements of the comedy, but there is death, which adds tragedy. King Cymbeline is loosely based on a historical figure, so there is the tiny element of a history as well. The verse is beautiful and flowing, the prose is rich in description and detail. This is truly one of the more striking of the romances.
Scholars have gathered from textual references such as Jupiter who “descends in thunder and lightning” and the mention of throwing a thunderbolt, that this particular piece was written for the technology and audience of the Blackfriar’s playhouse. The Blackfriar’s was a rarely used indoor theatre. A thrust stage and the traditional levels of seating, as well as the universal lighting in the playhouse were the ideal conditions of any Shakespeare play. What may have made the Blackfriar’s unique for this performance especially was the presence of a roof, and thus, the heavens. In theatre, the heavens are an above stage opening where objects can be flown in and out.
As far as Shakespeare’s play go, Cymbeline is definitely one that should be read. The plot is entertaining with many interesting and memorable characters. It has the tenderness of a love story, the fantastical happy ending of a fairy tale, and many more effects uniquely its own. This is a wonderful piece that will make the reader gasp and then laugh at the absurdity. It is simply a must read…or see.

Fable

I am going to tell you a story with a moral. Will it be the tale of the neglected science fair? No. What about the neglected book report? NO.

You are about to hear a tale so terrifying that it made me scream a girly scream. Are you ready?

Sure?

Ok.

Once upon a time there was a girl. Her kind of dad told her to take a bag of garbage outside to the curb so the trash people could pick it up. It was dark outside. The girl, so young and foolish, was not afraid. She went bare-footed out into the night. After a short and rather un-inspiring 5 feet to the curb the girl bent over to place her bag of trash on the ground. She happened to glance up at the bag of garbage already out there. And what did whe see? A RAT! That's right, a big fat disease carrying rat! It scurried out of the trash bag and ran away.


What did the girl do?

She screamed a girly scream and ran back into the house as fast as her woefully bare feet would carry her.

What can we learn from this story? For what is a fable but a story with a lesson?

Moral: Never go outside at night bare-foot in Ho Chi Minh City. Or any city for that matter.