Scary Movies

In honor of Halloween, today’s topic is *cue haunted house music* scary movies, or more specifically, the things I don’t understand about them:

  1. “Is anyone in here?” Whenever the actor goes into an abandoned mansion, haunted house, or wherever,they always ask that question. Do they really think someone’s going to come out from behind the curtain like, “Haha over here! You got me!”
  2. Whenever the actor is running away, she’ll always trip and fall. But does she get up? No…she’ll just try crawling/pulling herself across the floor. First of all, she’s obviously going to get caught by the ghost/possessed person. Second of all, she’s ruining her clothes. Do you really want to wear that dress again after it got dragged across a dusty floor in an abandoned mansion? No thank you.
  3. Someone always has to check where that noise is coming from. If you heard a bump in the night, would you get out of bed and walk around the empty house to check it out? I wouldn’t! I’d lock myself in my room and put a chair in front of the door, jump out the window (my bedrooms on the first floor), or just cower in fear under the covers.

Scary Movies: Rated Yang


While all my other friends parents have taught them the ‘Doctor Dentist Lawyer’ mantra since birth, my parent’s have been about ‘keeping door’s open’. Taking all honor’s classes,maintaining a 4.0 or above GPA, doing extracurriculars, sports, and getting into honor society? Sure, I have to do all those things, but not so I can get into Harvard, get a law degree, etc. Unfortunately, once you get on ‘the path to success’ (gag) it’s expected that you’re going to become an Ivy League graduate with a PhD or doctorate in one of those areas. So, if you’d ever like to see a priceless look of horror on almost any adults face, just tell them you’re considering the following  careers:

Street Mime

  • Set your own hours!
  • Work from home! (and we mean that quite literally. You’ll be sleeping on the street)
  • Required: Striped Shirt, Paint, paper cup for money
  • To apply, see ‘One-Eyed Dave’ on the corner of First and Eighth Street!

Internet Troll

  • Work from home!
  • Express yourself!
  • Required: Please come knowing:
  1. How to tap into your neighbor’s wi-fi
  2. Racial slurs
  3. Sexist Remarks
  4. Offensive language
  5. Absolutely nothing about the subject you’re criticizing!
  • To apply, contact ‘Anonymous User’.

Careers: Rated Yin

So, this Hindu and this Christian walk into a High School…

A Few Notes Before We Get Started-

*Usually this blog at least attempts some form of humor, but for today we are ‘broadening our horizons’ :)*

*I am not trying to force any beliefs on anyone. This is just something that happened to me, you can take what you want from it*

*Did you get the title? Like a ____ and a _____walk into a bar…but it’s a High School…oh, never mind. Moving on*

Today after school I had a club meeting, and after it ended I had almost an hour before my ride could come, so me and one of my friends (let’s call her Summer), decided to walk across the street to go get brownies. Before long, the conversation turned to (suprise!) guys.

“Don’t you think that guy in History is at least a little cute?” I asked, “And he’s super sweet too, unlike most of the cute ones.”

Summer shrugged, “Ya, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m not allowed to date anybody. It’s the Hindu thing, you know?”

“So…what age are you allowed to date?”

“Never. It’s against my religion. I’m Hindu, you know that.”

Honestly, I’d forgotten, but I didn’t mention it.

“But if you don’t date, how do you know who you want to marry?”

“Well, I’ll probably have an arranged marriage”, Summer said before listing a bunch of other girls I know who will also have arranged marriages.

I know there are still arranged marriages going on, but in my upper middle class suburb? To people I know? I was shocked. But I was also curious. So, as we walked to go get our brownies, I asked her about it.

“And you’re okay with it? Marrying some guy you don’t know?”

“Well, I guess. It’s how my parents did it, how my grandparents did it. It worked for them. I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it.”

Never really thought about it? I know that her family would consider me a typical ‘Western Girl’, with views much different from their’s, but I never realized how different. Every time I hear about arranged marriages in the news or online, it’s typically written from a European (BBC) or American (CNN, Time, NPR, etc.) point of view. Most of the time (if not all) they make it seem almost barbaric, like it has no reason to be around. But while hearing her explain it didn’t change my mind, it diffidently opened it.

“I haven’t figured myself out yet. I’m supposed to trust my parent’s know what’s best for me. There’s a process, how they find a guy. It’s not just random.”

All of us ‘Westerners’, how many times have we heard our parents do the, ‘Trust us. We have more life experience’ routine, whether it’s about school, jobs, or just life in general? Maybe arranged marriage isn’t as foreign of a concept as the media makes us think.

“What if you meet a guy in college you really like and you’re sure you want to marry. What if he asks you? What do your parents say?”

“Well, we’re southern indian, which is more traditional. So they’d probably be mad? Like ‘Whaaaaat?'”, Summer says, “But I’ve never really asked. It’s so far off. They’re more lenient than most southern indians though, so they might let me.”

We talked for a little but, about my religion and hers. I was surprised at what she didn’t know about christianity and she was surprised at what she didn’t know about Hinduism. I told her I wasn’t so sure and even just plain disagrees with some of the christian ideas, and she told me that I she didn’t agree with some hindu ideas. Even though I’m personally still opposed to arranged marriages and I don’t really get the logic behind the no-beef rule, I do feel like my views have been altered, and I diffidently understand her views a lot more.

I know we’re ‘just teenagers’ and we don’t have the life experience that adults do- but in this instance, I think that was a good thing.  In general, the older people get the more rooted in their beliefs they become, and the less likely they are to talk to people different from them. If I simply believed what the media tells me about religion, I’d think Muslims are all suicide bombers, all Christians are radicals who burn the Koran, all Mormons have multiple wives.

Parent’s might have a point about us teenagers using ‘social media’ too much, but maybe we have the right idea. I think we’d all benefit from actually talking to someone with different beliefs than us instead of just blindly believing what the news tells us.

Rated Yin

Survivor: Cafeteria Edition

I think I’m pretty qualified for this job:)

Me saying ‘I’m not the biggest fan of cafeteria food’ is the understatement of the year. It’s like Bruce Jenner saying he’s had a little Botox or Snooki saying she’s not the most classy person.

…I was going to put in a picture of Snooki being her classy self here, but I don’t want to get flagged.

I think this starts to paint the picture…

Anyway,  I was holding out hope for the high school cafeteria, which the high schoolers assured us was better than anything we’d eaten in junior high.

“I think I’ll buy lunch today”

Famous last words.

And so I ventured into depths of the cafeteria. The first thing I noticed were the high-pitched screams and bloody knives. Just kidding (obviously. my school doesn’t need a lawsuit.). The so-called pizza I had planned on buying was a radioactive, neon orange. I moved on to the Italian Pasta Bar (which, I assure you, is NOT Italian) to find some undercooked noodles in a pool of water and a yellow gooey substance resembling nacho cheese. The entire place smelled strongly of antiseptic, sweat, and teenage angst.

I looked around for something remotely edible, preferably something prepackaged that my school didn’t have a chance to burn.

And that’s how I ended up gnawing on a single strawberry pop tart, envying my friends brown bag lunches. Moral of the story: pack your lunch or suffer the prepackaged consequences.

High School Cafeteria Food: Rated Yang


This is just brilliant!.

Equal Opportunity Hater

I usually get along pretty well with teachers. I keep the sarcasm to a minimum and keep the hilarious comment about their polyester stretch pants to myself. So when everyone told me the science teacher I have first trimester hates children, I wasn’t too worried.

I should’ve been. This isn’t a ‘barely tolerates’ attitudes towards children, it’s a ‘the witch in Hanzel and Gretel is my idol (damn lawsuits nowadays)’ attitude. I will give her this- she is an equal opportunity hater. It doesn’t matter if you’re the kiss-up, the brain, or the football player smiling at your thigh every few seconds- she hates them all.

So why did she become a teacher? I have no idea. I’ll just keep trying to subtly cough on her in hopes she’ll take a sick day (jk..kinda). On the bright side, the song ‘Run Devil Run’ has found a special place in my heart and on my iPod.

Equal Opportunity Hater: Rated Yang


The Germany Diaries: Hotel Breakfasts

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. High School’s just started, and staying awake in Science has been a bigger priority than blogging (more on that later) 😛

Anyway, after going to germany, I don’t think I’ll ever look at a Motel 6 or Holiday Inn the same way again. I’ve never loved the idea of spending $6o on a cramped room with a broken hair dryer attached to yellowing drywall, but I’ve never really questioned it. You know the saying “ignorance is bliss”?

In Germany, one lady gave us homemade apricot jam. I’m not sure if I can bring myself to go back to those little grape jelly packets :-P. The “continental breakfast” from Motel 6 or Holiday Inn is clearly from the wrong continent. Stale frosted flakes, bland Insta-Eggs, and an orange juice machine? Really? And I’m pretty sure that limp piece of Wonder Bread with some burn marks on it wouldn’t be considered French Toast in any continent.

German Hotels: Rated Yin

The Germany Diaries- The Airport

You know how, at the airport, they make you walk through this thing that looks like a fancy door frame?  I have an uncanny ability to set those things off. The only times I’ve been on a plane (since I was a baby) was when we went to Germany in 2010, and this year. Both of those times I’ve set that door frame thing-y off. The first time, in 2010, I was still in middle school. I was wearing a tank top, short shorts, and flip-flops. Yet, somehow, I managed to set the alarms off. Some lady who didn’t understand english waved a wand thing around me, and it turned out the problem was the metal clasp on my necklace. If anyone reading this has friends or parents of whatever in the government, tell them they need to get some of those electronic wands, cause the pat down I got in JFK was not fun.

This summer I set the alarms off 2 times in one day, a new personal best.

We were in JFK. I was wearing yoga pants, a tank top, and flip-flops. I wasn’t wearing a necklace, I had learned that lesson in 2010. And still, I managed to set off the alarms when I walked through the door. I wasn’t sure if it was me or the man behind me who had set the alarms off, so I kept on walking. I wasn’t sprinting, I wasn’t jogging. I wasn’t even power walking. So, I’m maybe a yard away when a herd of people in with little Delta nametags come rushing after me like I was a man with a gun in his jacket instead of a high school girl with a tank top on  (you can’t hide much in a tank top, whether it’s stomach bulge or a taser).

“Miss? Miss, stop right there.”

I turned around, an after “asking” my dad if the could search me (it’s not like you can say no), I was led into this cubicle thing, where I got up close and personal with that Delta employee *shudders*. No wands in JFK. Again, any of you are on good terms with a Senator, put in a good word for those wands they have in Hamburg.

Then, after that very through pat down, I was called over to the station were they check your bags.

“Miss, is this your bag?”


The employee unzips my bag- and pulls out a huge bottle of shampoo and a family size conditioner.

“Do you know anything about this?”

That bottle was diffidently not under 3 oz..Turns out my mom had put her shampoo in my carry-on because her’s was full. And, yes, people were staring at us.

Two brushes with the law in one day…watch out world :-P.

The Airport: Rated Yin

The Germany Diaries- Accidental Almost Arson

After flying into Germany the first thing we did was get the rental car, a station wagon Skoda. The best thing about the car was the car charger outlet. In the inn’s we stayed at in Germany there were only so many outlets, and we didn’t have that many adapters so I ended up charging my iPod and camera in the car a lot.

The car charger was also a cigarette lighter. If you pushed this one button in, it turned really hot and you could light your cigarette on it. If you pulled the button out, there was the outlet under it.

So, somehow I pushed the button in without knowing it ( I know, I know, real smart), and I only noticed it after the thing was literally steaming. My reaction? Touch it with my fingers (If you’re wondering, yes, I am cringing as I write this). I tried to pull the thing out just enough to cool it down, put I kind of pulled it all the way out and it went somewhere by my feet.

It wasn’t hard to find, primarily because of the steam rising from an area near my left foot. I didn’t want the carpet going up in flames, so my bright idea was to use this H&M bag to pick it up, and then put it in the door compartment.

Thing is, the bag is plastic, so when I go to pick the cigarette lighter up, the plastic bag just melts on to it. By then, I’m bordering on a total freak out. I was pretty sure our rental car insurance didn’t cover “teenage daughter accidentally sends the car up into flames”.

Thankfully, nothing burst into flames, and I was able to scrape the plastic off the lighter after it cooled. I almost set a car on fire, you get a blog to read.

Not one of my better moments…

Accidental Almost Arson- Rated Yang

The Germany Diaries- Jersey Shore Rejects.

I’m ba-ack:-)! (warning- this is more rant than blog :-).) Germany was amazing. The plane ride from JFK to Frankfurt? Not so much.

Sitting in the row behind me were three people who will now be referred to as The Jersey Shore Rejects. One of them actually looked like she could be Snooki’s sister. They were practically screaming on the plane ride over, despite the dirty looks every one seated in the back half of the plane was  shooting at them. One of the girls played her iPod (Ke$ha for the entire plane to hear, while flailing her arms around, hitting the back of people’s seat.

Every time the lights would flicker, one of them would always scream, “Is that lightning?!” and then go into hysterics. They also had a heated discussion over whether Dutch and German are different languages for a solid hour.  That was around the time that I switched my “thank you” to “danke” when the flight attendant offered me soda and pretended I wasn’t an american.

Jersey Shore Rejects: Rated Yang