Halloween started out as the ancient Celtic festival called Samhain. During this time, the ghosts of the dead were thought to be mingling with the living as they traveled to the otherworld. Food was sacrificed and bonfires were made to honor the dead (as well as ward them away), and the Celts wore costumes of animal heads and furs. The spent time in the streets, roaming about and making noise to scare the spirits away. Fairies supposedly roamed the land during Samhain, going door to door asking beggars for food. Those that gave the fairies food were rewarded instead of punished.
On All Souls Day, the poor would go door to door asking for food, praying for their dead relatives in return. The Church promoted this practice because it took place of the Pagan tradition of leaving cakes and wine out for the spirits of the dead. The poor received soul cakes, the modern-day equivalence of the treats received when trick-or-treating.
The Roman Catholic church deemed Samhain a pagan holiday because of its
connection to the supernatural. In an attempt to get rid of Samhain,
Pope Boniface IV made November 1st All Saint's Day. This day was also known as All Hallows, or Hallowmas. Since Samhain was celebrated the night before, it became known as All Hallow's Eve, later shortened to Halloween.
There is logic involved in trick-or-treating. The phrase itself is logical...if you don't give me a treat, I will play a trick on you. Nowadays nobody does the "trick" portion of trick-or-treat, but there is the occasional group of rowdy teenagers that will smash pumpkins in the middle of the night.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Scooby-dooby-doooooo!
Welcome to my junior year. While the rest of the world was dressing down - and by that I mean wearing less clothes, aka sexy costumes - here we are! The Scooby Doo crew plus the awesome Jasmine (yes, we still love Disney characters at age seventeen) in the middle.
Is there an argument in here? Why, of course! Because everything's an argument ;) Please ignore my lame AP Comp jokes; I really can't control them.
1) Our costumes argue that we are a crew that sticks together and it's true; we are involved in the same activities, and those are some of my closest friends.
2) We aren't going for sex appeal. While the rest of the high school wears less, we just went for the easiest thing. Deciding your costume on the day of the party isn't usually recommended, but at cast parties it's a free for all. There's been everything from lax bros and hand-sewn princesses to Facebook and Ingrid Michaelson.
3) Each individual's costume argues that they are like their character. In truth, we didn't base it off of personality. It was more of a "Oh you have purple? Be Daphne, because I don't have any purple," sort of thing. Although...
3) Each individual's costume argues that they are like their character. In truth, we didn't base it off of personality. It was more of a "Oh you have purple? Be Daphne, because I don't have any purple," sort of thing. Although...
- Mari is Fred. Mari always wants to be a boy whenever possible; it's a weird I-want-to-play-a-difficult-role-that-is-opposite-from-who-I-am theatre thing. I think. But that reflects well in the fact that she is Fred.
- Mari's costume also uses humor. Clearly she is not a boy, and that gold stuff on her head is definitely not hair.
- Allison is Scooby. Al Pal is our quirky friend, the one who can be sweet but awkward at the same time, and we love her for it. We also figured she would be a good dog so...that happened :)
- That yellow stuff attached to Michael's head is potentially hair. Very awkward hair, but hair none the less! The awkwardness could be considered humor.
4) A ton of planning did not go into this, but there was still a decent amount of planning. We planned enough to go as a group (save Shreya, I guess) and we knew who was going to be each character. Although we weren't as intense as our classmates, it didn't matter because a) it was a cast party, and theatre kids don't judge, and b) we had fun.
Yay for Halloween.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Dear College Board, I'm Really Not That Interesting But...
After spending half of my weekend touring St. Olaf College, I realized how much work college is.
Understandably, high school is a lot of work (depending on which classes you take). College is hard (depending on which classes you take). Actually getting into college? That's another matter entirely.
Now, the common app is supposed to be easy. Less work with a broad spectrum of colleges that use the app. True? Yes. Any less work? In theory. Thank you to whomever created the common app, but I still have A LOT of work to do.
For instance, it took three phone calls to figure out a) what my social security number is and b) what teaching degree my father received. Three phone calls for 2/29324628374629384729 parts of that app. Almost there! Maybe by the time I've turned eighty this gosh dang application will be finished.
And then there's the family section. How many siblings do you have? First name, middle initial, last name? Are they still living? What grade are they in? How old are they? I ran into a problem at the point where I put down two of my three siblings as deceased...when they are quite alive.
Have you ever been convicted of a felony? You answer either yes or no, but you are not required to explain what that felony was. Doesn't that seem a little odd? Apparently a felony is a felony, so don't bother applying for college if you have been convicted. I almost wanted to click the little "yes" button just to see what would happen :)
Then you add in academics, extracurriculars, awards, jobs held, supplements, and the world is ready to explode. Errrm, my brain, that is. Oh and do not forget the essay! My mother has been riding my back about getting the essay done for the past month and a half. All I need is a topic. The last choice on the essay section: topic of your own choice. Oh college board, thank you for being so considerate. Now I'll spend the next two weeks trying to think of a topic of my choice.
Ten bucks says the topic of my choice isn't all that interesting. What would you like me to write about?
How about I tell you about reading books. No? Okay umm...dancing? Singing? Working a job? I'm really not that interesting. Rather boring really. Someone should create a website of all the interesting things one could ever write about for a college app essay. My sanity would appreciate it.
And being a white chick from the middle of Minnesota doesn't really help; there are no scholarships for being a white girl. If I happened to be an "Alaskan Native" the tables will have turned, but alas, I am not.
Long story short? Jump on your college apps. They're going to take you longer than that TV show you put them off for. Oh, and be interesting. If you come from an interesting country or have an ethnic heritage different from that of the rest of us, congrats. You're officially pretty cool in the eyes of the college board. For the rest of us, we'll just spend our time trying to come up with a creative essay topic.
Happy app-ing.
Understandably, high school is a lot of work (depending on which classes you take). College is hard (depending on which classes you take). Actually getting into college? That's another matter entirely.
Now, the common app is supposed to be easy. Less work with a broad spectrum of colleges that use the app. True? Yes. Any less work? In theory. Thank you to whomever created the common app, but I still have A LOT of work to do.
For instance, it took three phone calls to figure out a) what my social security number is and b) what teaching degree my father received. Three phone calls for 2/29324628374629384729 parts of that app. Almost there! Maybe by the time I've turned eighty this gosh dang application will be finished.
And then there's the family section. How many siblings do you have? First name, middle initial, last name? Are they still living? What grade are they in? How old are they? I ran into a problem at the point where I put down two of my three siblings as deceased...when they are quite alive.
Have you ever been convicted of a felony? You answer either yes or no, but you are not required to explain what that felony was. Doesn't that seem a little odd? Apparently a felony is a felony, so don't bother applying for college if you have been convicted. I almost wanted to click the little "yes" button just to see what would happen :)
Then you add in academics, extracurriculars, awards, jobs held, supplements, and the world is ready to explode. Errrm, my brain, that is. Oh and do not forget the essay! My mother has been riding my back about getting the essay done for the past month and a half. All I need is a topic. The last choice on the essay section: topic of your own choice. Oh college board, thank you for being so considerate. Now I'll spend the next two weeks trying to think of a topic of my choice.
Ten bucks says the topic of my choice isn't all that interesting. What would you like me to write about?
How about I tell you about reading books. No? Okay umm...dancing? Singing? Working a job? I'm really not that interesting. Rather boring really. Someone should create a website of all the interesting things one could ever write about for a college app essay. My sanity would appreciate it.
And being a white chick from the middle of Minnesota doesn't really help; there are no scholarships for being a white girl. If I happened to be an "Alaskan Native" the tables will have turned, but alas, I am not.
Long story short? Jump on your college apps. They're going to take you longer than that TV show you put them off for. Oh, and be interesting. If you come from an interesting country or have an ethnic heritage different from that of the rest of us, congrats. You're officially pretty cool in the eyes of the college board. For the rest of us, we'll just spend our time trying to come up with a creative essay topic.
Happy app-ing.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Make 'em Laugh, Make 'em Laugh...
...everybody just wants to laugh :)
In order to get the full effect, both videos need to be posted, and you must have SOME idea of Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind (or at least the movie version!). If you don't know of Gone With the Wind, you are culturally deprived and probably won't understand this in the least.
These videos are clearly parodies of Gone With the Wind. The title, "Went With the Wind," should tell you that much! What makes the humor work? The easiest answer would be Carol Burnett. Everything she does is hilarious, but in this episode of her show, she works directly off of main ideas found in Gone With the Wind.
In order to get the full effect, both videos need to be posted, and you must have SOME idea of Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind (or at least the movie version!). If you don't know of Gone With the Wind, you are culturally deprived and probably won't understand this in the least.
These videos are clearly parodies of Gone With the Wind. The title, "Went With the Wind," should tell you that much! What makes the humor work? The easiest answer would be Carol Burnett. Everything she does is hilarious, but in this episode of her show, she works directly off of main ideas found in Gone With the Wind.
- Sissy's annoying voice. Sissy has a ridiculously shrill voice in Gone With the Wind, and it follows through to this parody. Carol Burnett's character, Scarlett O'Hara, proceeds to slap Sissy across the face to shut her up. This doesn't happen in Gone With the Wind, but is found throughout the parody: when Scarlett runs upstairs to make her famous curtain dress, Sissy doesn't know how to keep Rhett busy. She inevitably slaps herself across the face to settle down.
- The ditziness of Melody Hamilton. Scarlett says, "In the meantime Melody, why don't you just stick your head in the punch bowl. I'm sure it could use a little more sugar," and Melody willingly complies. Not in the original movie, but it makes the point!
- The dress made out of curtains. A much-remembered moment from Gone With the Wind turns the audience into hyenas as Carol Burnett leaves the metal pole from the curtains attached to the fabric. If you hadn't caught it by now, this is a parody, ladies and gentlemen!
- Melody's death. Could it be more dramatic? Probably not, but that was the point! Pushing Scarlett back down the stairs was a twist on Melody's overly-peaceful character.
- Scarlett's famous line: "As God is my witness, as God is my witness they're not going to lick me. I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my folk. If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill. As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again." Sissy singing opera in the background helps dramatize the poignant moment in Scarlett's life...making it into a joke as Sissy wails and Melody gives birth.
- The most famous line of the movie: "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Rhett doesn't even say it in this version! Sissy exclaims the famous words shortly after slapping Scarlett across the face (Remember all the slapping from before? Now it's reversed roles!).
Melody's cool, calm, and collected character provides a stark contrast to Scarlett's obnoxious, hilarious, and harsh character. Carol Burnett's overreactions to the circumstances and overacting of Scarlett's character make this parody hilarious. This version of Gone With the Wind is far funnier than the actual movie as Carol Burnett puts spins on the events of the actual movie, adding in more modern language and other references. "Dixie's Land," by Daniel Decatur Emmett is mentioned, as is "A Streetcar Named Desire." These references make the parody even funnier, providing Sissy with sassy comments for Rhett, and a connection to the audience members as they see how the references fit in with the "content" of the parody.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Oh, Steinbeck. I adore you.
John Steinbeck on falling in love...
New York
November 10, 1958Dear Thom:We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.Love,Fa
You could say I adore Steinbeck.
From: http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/01/12/john-steinbeck-on-love-1958/
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Observations from the Stadium Bleachers: A Story of My Friday Night
This was the first football game where I was actually involved with my grade; I was situated right smack-dab in the middle of the seniors, trying to strategically see my way around the tall boys and keep warm at the same time.
It's interesting to just watch people. Even without trying, I jump to conclusions far too quickly. But for the record, sometimes I'm right.
The girl in front of me arrives later than the rest of us, pushing through the masses of energetic high schoolers. She doesn't seem to have a destination in mind, but stops a row down from me and to my right. It's odd - usually girls flock together and travel in packs, but she arrives by herself. Think typical Wayzata girl; tight yoga pants (probably Lululemon) sticking to her slightly orange body, a decent amount of makeup. Observing her letter jacket, it's clear she's been a part of the soccer team for quite a while. You'd think she'd be surrounded by friends and teammates; the soccer team is extremely close, but she's at the opposite end of the bleachers from her teammates. The boys greet her when she joins the group, playfully pushing her as she makes snarky comments. She comes off as aggressive, with strong, loud opinions and an attitude to back them up. As soon as the boys start playing rough, she pushes them back and the first six rows of bleachers turn into a shoving match, the soccer chick right in the middle of it all. I question her personality. She seems guarded, hastily throwing out comments while the other girls laugh and the boys play along. Are her teammates mad at her? I'd want to be with my friends at the game, but maybe she's past the point of caring what others think of her. She's in the middle of the boys, but maybe that's where she wants to be. Her arrival time indicates that it really doesn't matter to her where she sits; the girls up front don't really want her with them, but she knows she'll find someone to talk to her...the boys always do. What is it like to be her? Stereotypical Wayzata girl, separated from her friends by choice, chatting up the boys with sassy, controversial comments. I'd like to say I think there's more to her than that, but I'm not sure that's true.
The boy to my right is high as a kite. I've never been around someone that high - I'd say it's impressive, but that would give the wrong connotation (I'm not extremely impressed by stoners). But at the same time, I know him. We've had a class or two together, but he's always been relatively quiet yet entertaining enough to be known by the class. He's friendly when I see him in the bleachers, and he's grounded enough to know my name. Looking at him, I wouldn't initially think he's a stoner, even though he admits it approximately ten minutes after appearing on the bleachers. Maybe it's just that I try to think the best of people, or maybe the fact that I'm oblivious to life. He appears to be having a good time, alternating between screaming at the top of his lungs and staring off into space. What on earth is he seeing? I'm not sure I want to know. His friends are sketchy, but I realize that I've never really seen him with people outside of the classes I've had with him. I'm predisposed to not judge him based on his current level of sanity because I'm acquainted with him. He comes off as looking for a good time, carefree, and a tiny bit scary. His carefree nature allows him to openly discuss plans for the night, describing how much fun he is planning on having. Even though I know of him, I see him as a stranger at this point; he's impossible to predict, and we do all that we can to keep him satisfied with our company. In my head I urge him to be safe tonight, but it's probably too late for that.
The girls situated behind me have on matching sunglasses, hiding their eyes as they observe the crowd. They match in their clothing choices, but not like the rest of us did in middle school; it isn't the matching shirts and glitter, but rather a cool attitude that makes them appear more similar than they are. Both have dark hair, one leaner and shorter than the other, but they are clearly best friends. I feel their gazes on me as I turn around to talk to my best friend, feeling judged as we discuss the stoned state of the boy. Are they observing me as I am observing them? From one glance I feel judged, and become defensive, judging them in turn. They appear relatively cold-hearted, sticking to talking to one another while the rest of us converse with the people around us. They do not move the entire game or even crack a smile. They think they are better than the rest of us; my group of friends is inevitably awkward and far from cool, especially by their standards. I recognize them from my grade, but I couldn't name either girl if my life depended on it. A million dollars said they couldn't name any of us. They aren't the most popular people in our grade - the popular girls are located at the very bottom of the bleachers, leading the cheers and taking pictures. Instead, these girls are up here, strategically separated from the popular girls; a hundred dollars says these girls do not like the ones at the bottom of the bleachers and want nothing to do with them. A cat fight wouldn't be impossible. Hopefully they're satisfied with themselves, because they won't be bonding with other people any time soon.
Observing is fun :) I love to watch people in places like amusement parks, foreign countries, mini golf courses, pretty much anywhere. My sister and I try to figure out how people are related and what their relationships are; human beings are interesting, for a lack of other wording.
It's interesting to just watch people. Even without trying, I jump to conclusions far too quickly. But for the record, sometimes I'm right.
The girl in front of me arrives later than the rest of us, pushing through the masses of energetic high schoolers. She doesn't seem to have a destination in mind, but stops a row down from me and to my right. It's odd - usually girls flock together and travel in packs, but she arrives by herself. Think typical Wayzata girl; tight yoga pants (probably Lululemon) sticking to her slightly orange body, a decent amount of makeup. Observing her letter jacket, it's clear she's been a part of the soccer team for quite a while. You'd think she'd be surrounded by friends and teammates; the soccer team is extremely close, but she's at the opposite end of the bleachers from her teammates. The boys greet her when she joins the group, playfully pushing her as she makes snarky comments. She comes off as aggressive, with strong, loud opinions and an attitude to back them up. As soon as the boys start playing rough, she pushes them back and the first six rows of bleachers turn into a shoving match, the soccer chick right in the middle of it all. I question her personality. She seems guarded, hastily throwing out comments while the other girls laugh and the boys play along. Are her teammates mad at her? I'd want to be with my friends at the game, but maybe she's past the point of caring what others think of her. She's in the middle of the boys, but maybe that's where she wants to be. Her arrival time indicates that it really doesn't matter to her where she sits; the girls up front don't really want her with them, but she knows she'll find someone to talk to her...the boys always do. What is it like to be her? Stereotypical Wayzata girl, separated from her friends by choice, chatting up the boys with sassy, controversial comments. I'd like to say I think there's more to her than that, but I'm not sure that's true.
The boy to my right is high as a kite. I've never been around someone that high - I'd say it's impressive, but that would give the wrong connotation (I'm not extremely impressed by stoners). But at the same time, I know him. We've had a class or two together, but he's always been relatively quiet yet entertaining enough to be known by the class. He's friendly when I see him in the bleachers, and he's grounded enough to know my name. Looking at him, I wouldn't initially think he's a stoner, even though he admits it approximately ten minutes after appearing on the bleachers. Maybe it's just that I try to think the best of people, or maybe the fact that I'm oblivious to life. He appears to be having a good time, alternating between screaming at the top of his lungs and staring off into space. What on earth is he seeing? I'm not sure I want to know. His friends are sketchy, but I realize that I've never really seen him with people outside of the classes I've had with him. I'm predisposed to not judge him based on his current level of sanity because I'm acquainted with him. He comes off as looking for a good time, carefree, and a tiny bit scary. His carefree nature allows him to openly discuss plans for the night, describing how much fun he is planning on having. Even though I know of him, I see him as a stranger at this point; he's impossible to predict, and we do all that we can to keep him satisfied with our company. In my head I urge him to be safe tonight, but it's probably too late for that.
The girls situated behind me have on matching sunglasses, hiding their eyes as they observe the crowd. They match in their clothing choices, but not like the rest of us did in middle school; it isn't the matching shirts and glitter, but rather a cool attitude that makes them appear more similar than they are. Both have dark hair, one leaner and shorter than the other, but they are clearly best friends. I feel their gazes on me as I turn around to talk to my best friend, feeling judged as we discuss the stoned state of the boy. Are they observing me as I am observing them? From one glance I feel judged, and become defensive, judging them in turn. They appear relatively cold-hearted, sticking to talking to one another while the rest of us converse with the people around us. They do not move the entire game or even crack a smile. They think they are better than the rest of us; my group of friends is inevitably awkward and far from cool, especially by their standards. I recognize them from my grade, but I couldn't name either girl if my life depended on it. A million dollars said they couldn't name any of us. They aren't the most popular people in our grade - the popular girls are located at the very bottom of the bleachers, leading the cheers and taking pictures. Instead, these girls are up here, strategically separated from the popular girls; a hundred dollars says these girls do not like the ones at the bottom of the bleachers and want nothing to do with them. A cat fight wouldn't be impossible. Hopefully they're satisfied with themselves, because they won't be bonding with other people any time soon.
Observing is fun :) I love to watch people in places like amusement parks, foreign countries, mini golf courses, pretty much anywhere. My sister and I try to figure out how people are related and what their relationships are; human beings are interesting, for a lack of other wording.
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