it's a mad, mad world

I’ve seen that a lot of people seem to think that suicide is a controversial subject. For me, it’s a completely different story. I don’t really see why it would be controversial in the first place, it’s not like we’re talking about abortion or stem cell research. I think that suicide is just as much a part of life as death is. After all, it is death, just dealt by yourself instead of nature or someone else. In many cases, people think that suicide is a selfish act and that the person’s soul will end up rotting in hell for eternity. It’s true that some cases of suicide are indeed very selfish, but who’s to say where someone will go after they die? They’re not God, they can’t speak for anyone but themselves. Yes, I think that often times people commit suicide in haste, but I would never condemn a person for being truly unhappy. We’ve all experienced a point in our lives when we just don’t want to even be awake because we’re too afraid of how much we’re hurting and we don’t know how to deal with it. For some people, this stress is too much and they are too weak to fight it. The thing about suicide is that you can never accept it if you haven’t felt that you wanted to die. People are too harsh and selfish to think outside of their own personalities and see that some people just aren’t strong to put aside their pain. I think that some cases of suicide are most definitely justified. Many gay teens commit suicide every year in staggering numbers because their parents and everyone around them are spiteful of their natural tendencies. It’s sad to think that a child should feel so unloved by its parents that it feels the need to commit suicide. To understand suicide, you must think about how many people don’t know what it feels like to be loved, they’re never experienced the happiness that the majority of us are so familiar with. I, myself, am a very harsh person and always tell the truth even if it means hurting someone. Having said that, I’m no exception to the people that make other people feel like dirt, and I’m resentful for that. Many people tend to not see their cruel acts, and so they may hurt someone deeply and never know it. It’s hard to change yourself, but when you think about it, it’s worth it if you don’t want to be responsible for scarring a person for life. Many people need to change in order to prevent things like suicide. However, I’m a strong believer that that will never happen. People are evil and there’s no changing that. So, to help people who are feeling depressed and like they should take their own life, it will be very difficult, but with the right encouragement it may be stopped in some cases.

but soft, what burrito through yonder window breaks..

Today, folks, I am going to talk about the never ending joys of being in love. Since this whole section is about love (at least I think it is, something along those lines) I figured I’d stick to the topic and avoid being original at all costs. There was even a suggestion to write an extended metaphor describing how love can be like a race car. I don’t really see how love and Nascar work into each other, but there you have it. I suppose you might fall in love with driving like a maniac (I know I am. P.s. I drive a silver Ford Fusion, watch out). Anyway, I’ll try to stick to the topic. I got really excited when the topic said we could be humourous, so prepare yourselves.
It was a windy day in Valencia and I had just gotten done with a dance competition. A friend had driven me and her family wanted to stop and get something to eat (this friend was on my team; mind you, her family didn’t drive me out there just for fun). Little did I know my greatest joy was about to be revealed to me. They decided to stop at Chipotle, the Mexican Subway as I call it. We walked in and I thought to myself, “self, this is like the Mexican Subway.” I try to keep it simple when someone else is paying for me, so I decided to go with a regular hum drum burrito with just beans (and a tortilla). But then, I looked to my right and discovered a great big pile of steaming spicy chicken. Shyly, I asked for the chicken. And again I was astounded when there was salsa to be had, and not just any regular salsa, but salsa that wasn’t all chunky and full of onions. I was already excited, and once I took my first bite it felt as if I was falling in love all over again. This burrito was like a first kiss (not the crappy first kiss that no one admits to, the good one that you lie about). Never had I tasted anything so delicious and mind boggling; so many joys wrapped up in this little burrito. I thought that Del Taco had great burritos, but this one burrito put them all to shame and back. Sadly, there is an unfortunate end to this happy tale of mine. My love affair with Chipotle has just ended in a most indecent way. One day, I tried the hot salsa because I was feeling saucy. A half hour later, my initiation into being old hit me; heartburn. Naturally, I went back to my old medium salsa ways, but I was shocked to discover that it just wasn’t spicy enough anymore, and they had changed it! Much to my displeasure, I took a big bite and found a giant piece of a nasty onion in my burrito. I still love the old place, but I will never feel the love I once had for it.
Voila, the end.

how type-ical

Oh ughh, the lovely type excuse. Don’t you hate it when someone breaks up with you because you’re not their “type”? I don’t know about you, but I do. I think that the whole type thing is overrated and that it just falls into the same category as “it’s not you, it’s me.” I never thought I had a type, but apparently some people do. I think that people often construe their type to be the qualities that they like in a person. Not one person can have a definite type without a few qualities flying amuck here and there. I think that people need to drop the type and replace it with the image of a person who just simply makes them happy.
As far as the origin of types, I believe it was deeply rooted in some guy’s lame excuses for breaking up with a girl who didn’t quite satisfy him. Having a type, in my opinion, is one thing that will set you up for a lot of grief. You’re never going to find someone who fits the mold of your type exactly, so why are you still holding fast to an imaginary person? Maybe I’m a little harsh and cynical, but get real people. The perfect man or woman simply isn’t out there, based on the list of qualities that you believe to be of the utmost importance. Deeming a person “just your type” will set you up for sheer and utter doom. I’ve read that most divorces occur because of unfulfilled expectations. Hmm. I have a cousin (who’s not really a cousin just a family friend type thing) who actually has a list of things she’s looking for in a man. I knew ballerinas were perfect and meticulous, but a LIST? Really? As I said in the first paragraph, there will never be a person who checks off on every single quality; you might find that person but there will ALWAYS be a downside.
I think that men like women who are tall and blonde and women like men with scruffy beards because maybe they found someone who possessed those qualities and they really liked that person. This sort of reverts back to the long lost love thing; maybe one person is set in their ways of loving someone with a nasty beard because they once loved someone with said beard. Perhaps it’s all psychological (I’m just kidding, that’s a load of hooey). But seriously, the whole staying within your type threshold is just a silly safeguard so you won’t have to explore the different qualities that you fear in a person. Who knows, maybe someone who likes men with gross beards will fall in love with someone who has no beard at all. The world is full of surprises people.

writing topic # 3 pg. 794

I’ve never really had the opportunity to ‘behave in an official capacity.’ I’m assuming that this means a professional position. I guess I would have to say that being a captain of JV Dance Team my senior year of high school would be considered this kind of position. By junior year, we acquired a real coach, one that gave us real choreography and direction. I was so excited to have her there, while everyone else thought that she was overly strict for a high school dance team. I loved every bit of her personality and the way she taught us. Sure, she was strict, but we were the best we had ever been because of her. Sadly, she left for my senior year to go open her own restaurant and needless to say, we were lost. The next year, we sort of scrambled all the same girls together, held try outs, and decided that there would be two teams because of conflicts with girls who had been on the team all four years. It was decided that myself and a friend would be captains of the JV Dance Team. At first, when we were deciding how we would reign these girls in and teach them while still being nice to them. I was so stuck on our old captain’s methods and I wanted to be just as strict with them. However, as the year progressed, the girls became our friends and we rarely criticized them. We didn’t just let them run wild and free, but we had more of a friendship than a professional relationship. We taught them well while still having a little pow wow circle to just talk before each practice. We had a lot of fun, and now I wish that we had just toughened up a little bit so we could have prepared them better for next year’s try outs. Some of the girls did make it through the try outs this year (2010) and I was so surprised when one of them actually texted me to thank me for teaching her so much and for being a friend to her. It actually made me cry a little bit because I thought I had been too lax with them. Looking back on it, I regret talking too much and dancing too little, but I don’t regret all the jokes we had and how much fun we had even during practice when we were teaching them. I suppose that all the girls liked the way things went, but I can’t help feeling that there are some of them who thought that we were bad instructors. I’ll admit, we were sometimes. Lol but we never told them that they were bad, we never made them feel bad about themselves, and I think that ultimately helped them become better dancers.