So We Beat on, Boats Against the Current, Borne Back, Ceaselessly, into the Past

I finally got a chance to watch Baz Lurhmann's Gatsby. I'm not going to write a review on it because, let's be honest, that has been and overdone.

April and May are probably the two busiest months of the year. Tomorrow is the Carnegie 5K, and I have an SAT prep class afterward, and then running tech for Mr. Carlynton. I think it is times like these where you just 'do' without thinking much about it. 

What do I mean about that?

Last week, among other things, I scrambled to put together a resume for English class which will eventually be a part of my senior project(!) and I realized just how much I do. I don't mean that in some arrogant look-at-how-wonderful-I-am but rather in the wow-I-should-probably-stop-to-breathe-here way. I rarely make impulse decisions, but I take comfort in repeatedly doing something.

Tomorrow's Mr. Carlynton will be my second event of this caliber and probably my 20 or 30th event with Carlynton Tech. I was talking with a friend of mine and I realized that with the start of my senior year brings the start of the 'last' designation. I am fine psychologically with being in the middle of doing something, but I'm not sure what happens when those things stop. 

If you keep yourself busy enough you don't think about that - honestly, you don't think much about the scale or impact of what you're doing. You just start, do, finish, and move down the to-do list. But what then? What happens after that finish? I'm not sure. And I'm not talking just tech, I'm talking everything habitual. 

I don't know, I was out of ideas and out of time on this one. I'm in the middle of a spiraling of sorts - life. And to take a break for a second may seem appealing, but what happens when I do that? I start thinking about it all... and that leads to some really scare metacognition and listening to strange music. 

Vote for Me! Or Not.

I've no doubt blogged before about not being in control, but I feel that at least once a year (usually during the week leading up to Easter) I am reminded that I am not in control. Usually I consider it all some form of divine intervention, but to those less inclined to go along with that take it as a coincidence of human will.

I ran for president of the senior class. The fourth estate and politics don't usually mix well, but it was worth a shot. I ran a minimalist campaign, putting up roughly 25 posters around the school and talking to people face-to-face. This took place from last Friday through Thursday. Thursday afternoon they announced the winner - not me. Which honestly I'm okay with. My friend Greg put it into perspective for me - do I really need something else to do and to organize?

Backtracking a bit, Tuesday I turned 17. They say that you're supposed to be wiser as you reach certain numbers of spins 'round the Earth, but honestly it's all arbitrary. I grow wiser with every conversation with people, and every book I read, and every blog post I half write and want to pitch. I feel no different from 16, or 15 for that matter (but I have a license!). I've said about three times that day that only two things matter to me on my birthday: that my family is there, and that there is chocolate cake*. 

That was the day my (paternal) grandmother came back from rehab following a knee replacement, and we had that chocolate cake over at her house. She and I are pretty close, so it was nice since I had seen her all of thrice since the start of the year. 

It is much easier to say that you know you're not in control, but it's a different thing to acknowledge and deal with how that actually works. We finished cake and got the call that she needed to go back to the hospital for something else. Because that's what she needs. Less cake and more hospitalness.

I guess that's what I love about Good Friday - it is something that usually is constant. The conversations and clothes and all the stuff that doesn't really matter changes, but in reality nothing changes. I'm fairly sure this is the second to last (or third) Good Friday that I'll be in Slickville for. But I can't dwell on that - after all, I'm not in control. 

*Okay, so once upon a time there was this coffee shop in the plaza just over the Carnegie-Scott border called "For All Seasons Cafe and Gifts" owned by a guy named Andre. Anyway, we used to go there after a day at the pool or in Scott or at church or whatever and I'd get two things. The first would be a smoothie (I wasn't a coffee drinker [I was like 10!] so I usually got a creamsicle smoothie) and the second would be a piece of cake. He called it "death by chocolate" and you could get a refrigerated piece on a plate or to go. This cake was THE BEST CAKE. Anyway, For All Seasons closed in 2011 or 2012 over some rental dispute or whatever and I was cakeless.

But then my mother figured out where it was from - and that you could get this Death By Chocolate cake. So last year I asked my mother to find this cake and have it for my birthday. We ate it at the rehab facility my grandmother was at at the time, and from then on my two conditions were set. Family and Chocolate Cake. For now.

Happy Birthday Matt (though you don't read this... Oh well)

As We Stumble Along, We're Off to See The Wizard

Complete Side Note: We pass Franklin Regional on our way to Slickville every Sunday. My heart goes out to them, I have no idea what they're going through but I admire their strength and resolve during this whole insanity. Stay Strong, FR.

So this week I did something I've never done: I saw two musicals two nights in a row. On Thursday I was at Bishop Canevin for their Drowsy Chaperone and I was at Carlynton for their production of The Wizard of Oz. Some background: the first Carlynton show I was in was Drowsy two years ago, and Oz was the first Carlynton Show I've had no involvement in since 2011's 42nd Street where I was an usher. 

Canevin's version of Drowsy was fantastic, and I may be biased because I know the show so well, but it was so nice to hear the music flood back. There's something to be said for watching a live show with a live orchestra, and to know the show word for word. I went for that reason: I never really saw Drowsy live because, well, I was in the show. 

On Friday I went to see Carlynton's The Wizard of Oz, which was AMAZING. Everyone (Clay, Greg, Maggie, Natalie, Mikaela, Andy V, Dave, so many more, all of you!) was great, and the show was technically done well. Overall it was an amazingly enjoyable experience, and everyone involved should be proud.

It donned on me Friday that I haven't actually sat through a production in the auditorium seats in about three years. Generally, I am either on tech for something, or I'm on stage for something. In one sense, it was nice to sit back and have it all handled, and have a seat that was assigned.

In another sense I was totally and hopelessly lost. This is my kingdom: this is the auditorium we clean, maintain, and do the best tech work we can. What can I say? I'm a control freak. I enjoy being a cog in the wheel, not the one reading the watch.

It wasn't necessarily bad that I wasn't a part of it, it was just strange not being a part of it all. After it all, I still (stressful as it always is) prefer the lighting stand or stage manager's stand to being in the audience. It's just how I am.

Saturday I took the ACT at Canevin. Another first: I've never been in a Canevin classroom until then.

I hope to get something out for Tuesday (Mon Anniversaire) or Friday (but you realize, this is going to be one crazy week for us... If I don't, Happy Easter to you all!). 

After Four Years and 14,000 Pageviews I Still Can't Consistently Title Stuff

Usually I am listening to some music while I write these, but I'm in a library so I don't posses that luxury. That music becomes the title, which I usually relate back to whatever I'm writing about. Unlike what Jamie just told me, I usually title first.

I'm at that point in the school year where everything is moving at hyper speed but the school day. As a result, you've begun to despise everyone around you while simultaneously the workload quadruples. If I miss a Friday (as I did last week... I don't usually skip whole weeks but I couldn't get a draft off the ground), I apologize, but that's why.

I'm also in the middle of planning for my Eagle Project. You'd think that redoing an outdoor sign would be a simple planning process and the challenges would stem from my inability lack of experience to do any sort of construction. Turns out it's the opposite. The goal is that by June I have something in stone and we start work.

And it's at this point the bell rings.

After this, and about a gap of ten hours, I'm back at it; typing away. I want to acknowledge that this site hit the 14,000 mark within the last week or two. I have to stop looking at these numbers. I spent a day working the numbers and if all goes on the track that it has been, I'll be at 23,000 or so by June of 2015. So that's cool. But really, why do I care?

I changed my across-the-emails signature recently. I noticed that a bunch of teachers and professionals I email have some deep and profound quote dotting the bottom of their signature. I've had this quote at the bottom of mine for a while now:

"I can't imagine a person becoming a success who doesn't give this game of life everything he's got" – Walter Cronkite

I haven't really talked about success here, and I think there are two reasons for that: 1) I don't know that I truly understand what success is and 2) with all of the metacognition I've been toying with, the question usually goes into a why does society put such an emphasis on success? So I've decided to think about it for once. Webster is interesting with how it defines it. It first reads "the fact of getting or achieving wealth, respect, or fame" and then "the correct or desired result of an attempt".

Why do I say interesting? If you recall from the latest installment of me gushing over F. Money Bojangles' Gatsby, I talked about a sense of superficial sense of authority. The rich have power merely because they have a wealth of resources. If success is measured by wealth or fame (which in a capitalist society makes the most sense) then we're all doomed. The rich merely get richer and the famous breed fame, leaving success to those who we respect and beyond that an oligarchy of sorts. Which I personally think is a bunch of baloney.

I prefer that second definition, or at least the inclusion of "desired result". Success is something defined by someone actively striving for something. What is the desired result of me writing here week after week? That's for me to define. Honestly, at this point it's to become a better writer, not necessarily to gain a following or gain accolades (in the past three weeks alone I've been added to four or five lists on twitter of "top bloggers" or "top designers". WHAT DOES IT MEAN?).

So again, thanks for following along, and joining me. Nothing personal, I'm just not sure why you're there. Nevertheless, I'm thankful you're there (a 60+/week readership is a great motivator).

One week from now I'll be in the audience of Carlynton's The Wizard of Oz. This is a show which, depending on the next two days, I might be assisting in the lighting design. Because you know I can't stay away from these things.

A Dangerous Idea... Almost Makes...Sense

I've been listening lately to the soundtrack for Baz Lurhmann's The Great Gatsby. It's an interesting soundtrack, produced by Jay-Z including everything from this Jack White cover of a U2 song (Love is Blindness) to a songs from Andre 3000, Florence and the Machine, and a bunch of music you wouldn't expect to work together but it does.

This week has been quite stressful, and from about Tuesday on I've been sleep deprived. What have I learned? I have made it pretty far with what I want to do, yet I have miles and miles to go before I sleep (see? I can't even be original I've stooped to stealing from Robert Frost for heaven's sake!*).

Stress is an interesting thing for me. I produce some of my best work under deadlines and under crazy stress, but if I get past a certain point I just stop. Stop everything. It's really counterproductive, kills my grades, and drives those around me (family and my few close friends) into maddening confrontation. But unfortunately, like I said, I do some of my best work in my dizzying solitary stress circle.

Dizzying solitary stress circle? I like that, but it seems like one of those "writings of a madman" you'd see painted on the walls in a comic-sans-esque manner.

In Physics this week, we watched one of those Mechanical Universe videos. According to our physics teacher, these were originally on laser disk, and then migrated to VHS tape, and now is on DVD. It always (and I mean always) starts in a CalTech lecture room with the same guy explaining some physics concept and it fades off to some voiceover lady with 80s echo-synth background explaining math derivations. Every time they go to have some historical background, they cut to these historical dramatizations of Newton just creating things, and Keppler as a mathematical wanderer, and it goes on.

It was through this sort of bizarre historical dramatization that I learned that Newton went insane. Like, literally insane. Now I'm not sure how they determined this, or how he became insane, considering he was a solitary individual who was obsessed with math, gravity, and how it all coexists (I think he was insane the whole time, just good at hiding it...). Newton was brilliant, but he was still crazy.

In completely unrelated news, I am in talks with WYEP and Reimagine Media to start a podcast. We have already recorded at least one episode of it, but we are in the process of finding a home for it. Hopefully in a weeks time I'll have a link where you can listen in.

I'm in the middle of planning my eagle project as well as about ten thousand other projects. Sorry it's not all that coherent. Though I love writing, and I love posting here and talking with people (who never comment) about stuff I write about here, I have to have my priorities straight. My posting schedule and sanity suffers immensely for this.

*See what I did there? I cited the source, sort of.

Now There’s Green Light in My Eyes

So last week I finished F. Scott Fitzgerald's (affectionately known to some of our English class as F. Money Bojangles) The Great Gatsby. Generally, I don't like classics until long after I've read them, but Gatsby struck me as endlessly intriguing. I know I'm not of the bourgeoisie but I was still able to identify with Gatsby in the simplistic analysis of the American Dream - or rather, as I've come to understand through a study on the wealth gap, meeting with Occupy Pittsburgh** and others is the American Fairy Tale.

What I think I identify most with is the idea of invented social inequality, and Nick Carraway's fantastically broad pronouncements. We have to take his word on everything because he is the first person narrator, but I find it interesting that for once I can look at a narrator as attempting to be objectively transfixed with everything.

I'm (obviously) no literary genius, and I don't pretend to be but I think this piece is a great conversation starter on the topics of the wealth gap, lust, and built up personas. One of the lines that particularly stuck out (there are so many, but this one is the one I can quote off the top of my head):

There are only the pursued, the pursuing, and the tired.

This applies to love, wealth, success, and I'd go on but the beauty of this statement is that it can be applied to pretty much anything. It's a basic observation about human existence, and for some reason I'm fascinated by this.

I really like this book for that reason: nuggets of things that may not actually be that profound (I'm 16, not some time-honored critic*) but make you say "hmm..." after you read them. Within and Without.

At this point though, I'm feeling quite tired. Have a nice week.

*Another theme of this novel, and prevalent throughout many of Fitzgerald's pieces is the emphasis we put upon superficial authorities: celebrities, scholars, etc. to the point where they are no longer a person but rather an idea. We only allow time-tested authorities to sound off on certain things. We are only allowed a choice of certain giants to stand upon the back of, it seems. The best example of this objectification/idealization is the Petrarchian lover. You fall victim to being in love with the idea of being in love or the idea  of the other person to the point where they are idolized, they are no longer a person but an idea of perfection.***

**No idea what I'm talking about? Here: http://2015blogger.blogspot.com/2011/12/visiting-with-occupiers-and-education.html and here: http://2015blogger.blogspot.com/2012/10/occupy-one-year-later.html

***JayScribble's book Paper Towns contains one of my favorite quotes: "What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person". A person is only a person [that is the extent to which I'll comment on the whole Alex Day thing, and I felt it fit with this post. Anyway, yeah, Gatsby.]

R-S-P-E-C-T or Something Like That

I usually title these things with lyrics of music I've been listening to, but I couldn't come up with anything new. What I did instead is play off of the president's flub (Yes, it's an intentional typo... I know my QC is bad here, but cut me some slack!).

This week has been a whirlwind of projects and adventures. The senior project was introduced to us (the countdown to Senior Year has begun. I'm not sure I'm okay with this...) and I began serious work on proposals for my (hopefully) Eagle Project. Carlynton's Senior Project isn't a service project but rather more of a research project into careers and the sort.

The main idea of the senior project is to establish "Where You Are" and "Where You're Going". It's a graduation requirement for everyone, so it isn't some sort of metacognitive thing to be psychoanalyzed, but if you've been reading regularly for any amount of time, I don't do well with taking things at any face value.

This week has been about progress. There's something fulfilling with being in the process of doing something. Today I was at the station and we spent roughly an hour in the studio messing with the recording suite just brainstorming. We decided we want to start a podcast, but after we bounced from topic to topic, and were just doing something. It didn't matter where it was going or why, but it was nice to be in the midst of some collaborative.

During weeks like this I'm not usually able to do much reflection or come up with something entertaining, witty, or whatever it is that usually takes this place on Fridays and Saturdays (I'm opening the window because I feel one day is a bit ambitious...)

Nevertheless, in two weeks I may appear in a podcast. Whatever comes from this I will let you know and pass along any links that may be of use.

Hopeless Wanderer

[Note: This may get a bit, um, deep. Or at least deep to me. I wrote the bulk of it Friday night, added some Saturday, and am finally getting around to posting it now. This is fair warning that I delve into church (no I'm not going to preach to you), my childhood, and mostly incoherent thought]

This past Sunday we had a church annual meeting.

There is a major difference between thoughts and someone else voicing those thoughts. At least with me, I feel there is a certain amount of control that comes with keeping thoughts bottled up, but once those are voiced, once those are brought to 'reality' it becomes a whole other thing to deal with.

I've often voiced that I am an 'idea guy' (it's even on my about page) meaning that I am usually able to think logically through things, but when it comes to actually doing those things I usually freeze up. I always seem to have an excuse - no time, too many other projects, whatever. 

This all works fine in my little bubble, but when it comes to the real world, this doesn't work so well. I recognize this and I'm trying to work past it, but certain things (mainly my mission to earn my Eagle Scout) have suffered and I really have to become more decisive and more impulsive.

But back to the whole idea-versus-reality concept. I've written numerous times about this, but I don't think I've ever touched on this thing that I'm going to call the idea safety gap. This meeting discussed the possibility of closing, or rather selling, the church.

Let me clear this up: at this point it's only a possibility. In all probability any move will be made in the next year or two, but by the time anything is finalized I'll (hopefully) be in college. But that doesn't really matter. It's a major part of my growing up. 

I've often been told that a church is the people, not the building. Which I totally agree with, but at the same time, I have grown attached to both the building and the people. More so the people, but since I'm technically at this point attached to my father (the priest) I go where he does. 

If Slickville goes away, if the church itself closes fully (I don't know this will go down, but there are a lot of possibilities here) and he is reassigned elsewhere, I don't know how I'll deal with it. I know there are other churches, and I know there are closer Orthodox churches, but Slickville is my home. I know I'm always welcome in Carnegie, and usually welcome elsewhere, but I grew up going to the church 40 miles from my house. It's my family. 

Thus starts a series... not sure how many parts or how frequent, but I plan to post once in a blue moon, or maybe even start a side blog, because this isn't my usual content here...

I Can Show You What You Wanna See And Take You Where You Want To Be

UPDATE: I figured out why Rick Sebak was in the Southside. Find out more here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVMixoM6yHE

I really should've just waited a day.

Today I went to WYEP, which was quite routine. I usually get a ride from my father, but he was only able to get me there today, which was alright. It was a nice day and it had been a while since I last took public transportation.

Taking public transportation here in Pittsburgh is always an adventure (If you don't believe me, follow @PGH_T_Party) and today was no different. I usually pick up the 51 from the South Side downtown at the corner of 12th and East Carson. Today, the lights at that intersection weren't working because a transformer caught fire there.

Needless to say, I was assuming that this would set the bus schedule back a while. So I waited, and looked down East Carson waiting for the 51. About ten minutes goes by, and who do I see walking down the sidewalk toward me but some guy that looks like Rick Sebak.

Rick Sebak (for those of you who don't follow public television/need a brush-up on yinzology) is a television producer for WQED here in Pittsburgh that is known for his scrapbook documentaries (he invented the genre) about local and quirky things ("Breakfast Special" "A Hot Dog Program" etc.). He also follows me on twitter.

Anyway, I'm watching this guy and East Carson, and then I realize that it is Rick Sebak. I say "hi" but honestly I'm a bit starstruck (seriously, making documentaries in this style is one of my dreams after, you know, being Scott Pelley or Charles Osgood). We talk briefly about the weather and he goes to his car, which is being blocked by a bunch of motorcycles. At this point I see the 51 in the distance. The motorcycle dudes move their motorcycles after talking to Mr. Sebak for a minute or so. And then they pull out at this intersection. Up rolls the 51, me with fare in hand. And so keeps going the 51, past me.

So Rick Sebak drives away, and the bus decided I wasn't worthy enough to get on it. I look around to see if I'm getting punk'd or something, I'm not.

The 48 pulls up, and lets me on. The 48 and 51 take the same routes from at least 20th and Carson into town, so I'm alright. Due to construction though, I had to walk an extra ten blocks than normal to get to my transfer. Which gave me an excuse to walk through Point Park's campus. The campus isn't like a college campus though... it's a collection of five or six city blocks making the whole city its campus. </Point Park Gushing>

I make it onto my transfer bus stop as it is rolling up to the corner. As if it was planned.

And it’s a Long Way up When You Hit the Ground

This is from Imagine Dragon's "On Top of The World" which is an amazing song by a band that can play very well acoustically, which you should totally check out sometime after you're done reading this post.

This week in English we have been talking about Modernism, which has left me floating down the path of meta-cognition and identity and art. Metacognition (which chrome is telling me isn't a word... meh [meh is also not a word]) metacognition is the idea of thinking about thinking, which after a week of thinking about thinking and streams of consciousness, it's just... weird.

Anyway, this week has been a smorgasbord (spellcheck saved me on that) of information, events, and assorted nonsense. I now have a graduation/commencement date (per CSB) of June 12, 2015. Which is crazy to think about, 476 days away crazy. I'm extremely excited yet at the same time quite terrified that that is the amount of time within which I need to take the SATs, ACTs, complete a FAFSA, apply for scholarships, and of course apply to all of the colleges I want to.

So this, and so much more has been running through my mind. I've been listening to a lot of lectures, acceptance speeches, and the sort lately. I am listening to John Green's lecture at Kenyon, and have listened to Bob Schieffer's acceptance speech of the Walter Cronkite award for Excellence in Journalism, as well as what I offered earlier from Neil Gaiman's "Make Good Art" speech and his concept of "Art is Never Finished, it is Just Released", and so many other things.

This is rambly, but that's because I'm not exactly coherent. Thinking about thinking does that to you.

Stuff I've been listening to:

"I'll never really know what it's like to be you. I will always see you in the context of myself" -
John Green's Kenyon Talk: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4peoHkXsJg

Journalism is not about scratching the surface, it is about going beneath the surface and finding the truth — Bob Schieffer, in his acceptance speech for the Walter Cronkite Award for Excellence in Journalism

That Talk: http://cronkite.asu.edu/assets/video/2013/BobSchiefferluncheon.mov

The Neil Gaiman Art Release Thing is somewhere here: http://keepmoving.blackberry.com/desktop/en/us/ambassador/neil-gaiman.html#

If That's What You Wanted

That's the title of the song used in the trailer for the John Green Movie The Fault In Our Stars. I like the song, and the trailer, and the book, so you should check all of those out in the reverse order I listed it in...

It occurred to me that last week's post didn't properly publish. I pushed that through earlier today, so check out that below.

This week was rather uneventful. On Monday we had to deal with the aftermath of Friday's talent show, meaning the Video Lab was in shambles (cameras, tripods, mics all unplugged and had to be set up again... which didn't happen), I was sick, and I had to play referee between management and visual directors, and honestly deal with it being a Monday. Which was an interesting combination, which culminated in me being quite miserable.

But that morning I was forced to do something I rarely get to do: read the announcements solo from the office over the Public Address system. I probably sounded as miserable as I usually do, but I actually enjoyed it. It reminds me so much of audio recording at the station, and of recording the "Welcome" thing in the video lab. This has led me to ambition (which is usually quite scary when it comes to me because, well, JSVH, BBC 2 1/2, need I go on?) which has led me to want to do a podcast. I want to do a podcast talkshow sort of thing with my friends. We'll see how this goes, if anywhere.

The rest of the week was uneventful; I dabbled in a bit of photography again today as I have been lately. In doing this I've realized that sunsets in winter in western Pennsylvania are amazing. Actually, sunsets in general here are great. I plan on posting some of the pictures I've taken up on the Flickr shortly.

Also, I wrote an alternative post to this one over on the secondary (yet semi-identical) blog here: http://2015blogger3.blogspot.com/2014/02/on-valentines-day-bonus-21414-post.html. It's on Valentine's Day, and humanity... but I promise, it's not that profound.

It's a Switch Flipped

I didn't post yesterday. I was spending roughly 10-11 glorious hours (continuously... this count started at 11, you'll see why later) at the high school auditorium, working lights/stage management of the Crafton talent show. It's a crazy process. I was there until 10:30 PM (EST), so I didn't get around to blogging. Sorry.

My Friday began (as most Fridays do) reading the morning announcements. Afterward, we went to the cafeteria (after my Pre-Calc teacher told me I shouldn't be in class, that I should leave, and more importantly leave his room alone) to prep for the Pittsburgh National College Fair held at the convention center downtown.

After riding a bus, going up some stairs, and through some doors I was immersed in roughly 400 booths full of colleges, universities, vo-tech reps, and assorted insanity. Well, sort of.

On paper, there were 400 booths. Alex really was interested in four*: Point Park, RIT, Syracuse, and St. John's (Queens, NY). But neither St. John's nor Syracuse were present; the reps apparently decided to not show up. So with roughly an hour and a half to kill, I spoke with Point Park about admissions, and RIT about stuff I didn't learn in the mail. And then I wandered about. 

What I learned is this: the colleges that send stuff in the mail are irrelevant. What I've found most useful is to seek out who has programs I am interested in, and who is relatively local, and seek those institutions. This led me to talk with George Mason and Ohio University. Just another adventure.

So back to the talent show. It went quite well, and we had a chance to test out the "Welcome" announcement I recorded on Monday. It's a pretty generic thing I wrote to be played to give me time to dim the house lights at events:

Welcome to the Carlynton Junior-Senior High School Auditorium. We ask that you please silence all devices at this time. Thank you and Enjoy the Show!

I had my brother (who was on master sound yesterday) play it like ten times for me before anyone showed up. I am such a nerd. But seriously, isn't it cool to be able to say that this is your recorded voice, played before [now pretty much all of the] events [I highly doubt musical will use ours; they record their own]? Just me? Okay.

Either way, the talent show went pretty well considering we had no real run-through and I lost control of the light board twice during the show. It's a lot of set-up, and a lot of cleanup, but at the end it is so worth it. And again I am so thankful to be at a small enough school where I can do auditorium things as often as I do.

*I narrowed my list down to those four colleges using the College Board's BigFuture tool. I doubt that St. John's is real, though. And RIT is the only one that gave me MAJOR sticker shock**

**I consciously realize that deciding (or rather society/academia/the job market deciding for me) to go to college is going to lead to me being in debt for the rest my natural life. If that doesn't do it ($30-$40K USD PER YEAR?!?!?) something else will. I accept that debt will be there, but I am trying to draw a line at nothing above total Cost of Attendance (getting there, tuition, room, board, etc.) at $50K per year. RIT has a Tuition + Room + Board rate of roughly $42,000 dollars (or so the admissions guy told me, per College Board it actually looks like $47,677). Compare with Point Park's program's rough COA around $38,600 (Per College Board). I don't think I can justify that. This whole college/money/what to do with my life thing is quite terrifying, which is why I generally don't blog about it.

You May Select This Title, or Select One of Similar Literary Quality

I've been trying to start less often with the standard "So [insert start of post]" because honestly, it's not necessary. I first started thinking about this when Greg Joseph of the Clarks brought it up at the selection meeting of Reimagination CD, how he was trying to start less spoken sentences with "So." From there I started analyzing it, and it turns out that I do that a LOT, and it's really hard not to.

And yes, I realize this is a Sunday. I write when I can and how I can.

I want to talk about two things: the first being my research project, and the second being the adventure at the station. I'm doing a research project for English on the concept of 'literary merit'. Specifically, my paper is going to try and argue that YA fiction, specifically the case of John Green, has literary merit. In researching this, I've found a lot of differing viewpoints but mainly the question by these 'scholarly sources' is this: is literary merit and thus are merited to be required reading limited to the classics? This has been something I've been ranting about for years: who sets up what we read? why do we read what we read? and of course, what is the point of it all?

The answers aren't simple. <rant>* The education system in America as it exists today is a broken and crazy system. People who argue otherwise have not seen NCLB implemented, and have probably not talked to a teacher lately. The question I have is this: is society able to adapt to a group of strange people standing on the backs of giants, or do we have to all be of a certain classical mindset on the backs of certain giants? </rant>

Yesterday we met at the station with the ten acts that will be contributing to the Reimagination CD. The thing I love about working with Reimagine is that we start really small - meetings with four or five people -  but when it comes to the projects we work on, we do huge things.

Here is what a ten artist/ten track compilation looks like sitting in a room:

May not seem like much, but it seems pretty impressive to me. We enlisted five or six producers, the GM of WYEP, and we're having it all recorded/mastered at a professional facility, Church Studio in Carrick. But the thing I am continually amazed by is how something goes from talk to reality, it's an amazing process, and I'm so glad to be able to be a part of it.

I won't go into much detail because everything is just starting at this point, plus I don't have much detail at this point. Nevertheless, it is looking like the next few months are going to be good.

*This is a nod to HTML tags. Before anything can begin, it must have an opening tag, and then when whatever code or style or whatever is done, it must be closed. Thus, the rant has an opening and closing. I don't even know what I was saying there...

Sinners in the Hands of an Angry Ben Franklin

In a stunning turn of events, I didn't use song lyrics as a title. Mostly because I can't find a song disjointed enough to describe my week.

Monday I got a filling. Back at my regular appointment in December, my dentist noticed that one of my teeth had cracked or chipped or something, so he decided it needed fixed. I was escorted into some dentist-operation room. He told me that it wasn't deep enough for me to need numbed, so he just started drilling. It was really weird, because I knew I was supposed to be feeling something but I didn't. Nevertheless, that's done and over with.

Tuesday I learned sports reporter extraordinaire Bob Pompeani (this only makes sense if you are from Pittsburgh and watch KDKA) was coming to honor one of my friends, Conor Richardson, with the Extra Effort Award. I learned that he would be coming the next day, and it was an auditorium event, so it was on Carlynton Tech turf. We were able to set the stage (major props to my brother/sound guy Matt for putting up with my annoying nagging about sound checks) and the event went on without a hitch.

I ran lights, and when I am at the helm, I am hyper-sensitive about the entire auditorium's lighting. When an outside door opened, I was about to go down to shut it before thinking "oh, that's just our auditorium adviser" before realizing that that wasn't Mr. Pedersen, but instead Bob Pompeani. Conor was honored (which you can see the feature here: http://pittsburgh.cbslocal.com/video?autoStart=true&topVideoCatNo=default&clipId=9762659) and it was great.

I helped tear down our setup and ran into Mr. Pompeani in the process. He was an amazingly nice guy, and complimented our stage work. I didn't introduce myself except as "Marie Popichak's nephew" but he recognized me from twitter, so that in and of itself was pretty cool.

Remember how I said this week was disjointed?  Yeah, I wasn't kidding. So is my thought process....

Tomorrow I go to the station (weather permitting, because it is looking like January 7th temperatures all week...) and square away some things with Reimagination 2014. Insanity. Plus there are 12,920 pageviews to this site, so within the next few weeks I'll break 13,000. I don't think I can fathom that.

There’s an Endless Road to Re-Discover.

So it's Wednesday. I don't post on Wednesdays. But this has been an interesting week of exceptions so far, and I have a story to tell.

On January 14, 2014 I took my driving road skills test and passed. I have a license to drive cars (and anything under like 26,000 pounds if I'm not mistaken).

So this adventure all started after school that day, when my mother had arranged to pick me up outside of school and take me down to the DMV. There are a wide variety of people who are in the DMV at any given day (I've been there a few times before, for Photo ID's and some other things) and Tuesday was no exception. I sat in the corner and waited for the gentleman to call my name.

He took me out, and we went through all of the standard in-park operating-your-vehicle things. Then off to parallel parking world. Now I'll be honest, I practiced with my mother a good 20 times parallel parking. It became one of those things like when you're a little kid, and you've just learned to do something, and then you ask every cat, dog, fish, and bird if they've seen you do it. I did it over and over, and parallel parked a little bit of everywhere.

So I went to the spot, and parked. He said I had three adjustments, and when I geared in to drive to adjust, he stopped me and said "you're in the spot, works for me." Not good for my OCD, but hey, he's the examiner. Then I went out onto the road. I'll spare you the details except potholes. At the end, I was nervous beyond anything, and my (terrible) parking job reflected that when he said flatly "Well, you passed." What followed was a back-and-forth "should I straighten out the car in the spot" "no".

From there it was a whirlwind: I sat in a new section of the DMV, they called my name to get a picture (which someone named Alexandra heard as her name, so that was fun). I signed up to be an Organ Donor, and then continued until I was red-flagged for not having my parent approve that. Irrelevant. Bottom line, I was handed my Driver's license and promptly freaked out.

I'm walking out of the DMV with my mother talking about what happens next (insurance, driving timeshares, etc) and I tell her where I parked. We go over there, and make it to the row before our car. And for some bizarre reason we both stop and watch this guy pull out of a parking spot, pull back into it, and then back out and forward. What followed I still don't know what to say about. It's one of those bizarre things that will live forever in my mind.

He went forward and CRUNCH. Right into the back bumper of the tank. At which point I notice three things: 1) this guy was taking his driving test 2) he had the same examiner and the kicker 3) THIS IS THE THIRD TIME IN THREE MONTHS THAT SOMETHING BIZARRE HAS HAPPENED TO THE CAR. Like, first the Baltimore accident, then a deer (I didn't blog about it because it was pretty anti-climatic) and now this.

I don't understand it. Originally I blamed my poor parking job, but then the examiner informed us that he had told the dude taking the test that he was going to hit our car and he still proceeded forward. I felt bad for the guy taking the test, I know how nerve-wracking it was. Nevertheless, I had just got my license and just started laughing at this point.

But seriously, I think I'm drawn to bizarre car adventures. It's never our fault (this is probably the freakiest of the three incidents), but I'm always there. It seems like when I'm near the car, bizarre things are drawn to me. Exhibit A: The goats.

So that's it: I have a license, there was a freak accident at the DMV, and goats. Oh well. I will probably post again Friday, but this was just too strange to wait. Here, have two pictures:

But Hold on to What you Believe in the Light

Earlier today I was in my fifth period study hall reading through old post titles. It struck me just how much over the past year I've titled posts with music lyrics. Just a thought.

A note before the post starts: This is the week before midterms. I don't think I'm sane, but then again, when I am like this I can sometimes do my best work.

What I want to talk about is two things that may or may not be words: hypotheticality and intentions. Take that, for example. I wrote that non-word (my editor is giving me the magic red squiggles) in my weekly planner as a potential blog post. It seems anymore that we need something to strive for, or to have some path in place before we justify a destination.

It seems to me that spontaneity has gone from a desirable trait to something construed as irresponsible. Why does it seem this way to me? I live in a relatively self-contained bubble: my goals are set forth by some mythical curriculum committee of wizards or whatever for me to figure out in a calculated way. I understand how you arrive at an answer or destination or milestone or what have you is important. But does it lose its importance when it's carefully plotted out? When everything is expected, when everything is painstakingly explained, or planned?

I think it does. I think above the destination and above the specific route one takes to wherever they're going is what happens to stop that route.

I have four favorite photographers (they may argue with me, but I call them photographers) as of now who are: Dan Winter (Winner of ReimagiNATION 2013's Art Division), Brad Knabel (Carlynton Marching Band Resident Photographer), Dave DiCello (Pittsburgh Photographer; master of HDR) and Kate Kinley (really hard to describe. She does a lot of conceptual photography, and has a flickr and blog, both of which you should check out). The common thread between all four of them is that they take pictures of spontaneous life.

Life consists of those moments that aren't posed, that aren't the ones that you want to put in a resume, or on a college application. It's the stories of how you heard about that scholarship, or the parking ticket you got outside of that school, or that girl whose books you helped pick up in the hallway on the way to some class that make life move. I've never been fond of portrait photographers for this reason exactly. Life is more like an instagram picture than a school portrait.

I ask people (mainly at school, but elsewhere too) all the time what it is they plan on doing, where they are going, and more often than not do I get the response "someplace else". This troubles me a bit because they appear to think they have explored everything that is here (here being Pittsburgh). And I don't think that's true either. I want to explore things, and when I can't, I want to reexamine what I already know. I don't know, random thoughts.

If you are interested in checking out any of the photographers I mentioned above, here you go:

• Dan Winter: Flickr & Tumblog
• Brad Knabel: Flickr
• Dave DiCello: Flickr & Photography Site
• Kate Kinley: Flickr & Photography Site & Blog

If you are one of the people I mentioned above and want me to delete the link, please let me know, like now. I don't want you to sue me or whatever, just email me at alex dot popichak at gmail dot com.

Oh, and the Spring Standards are playing Mr. Smalls (of Tally Hall adventure fame) April First. This is not a drill.

I'm Gonna Make it Through This Year if it Kills Me

Those are lyrics from a song called "This Year" by the Mountain Goats. A bit more dismal than how I feel right now (and it has nothing to do with the bulk of this post), but it's a fantastic song. You should go listen to it sometime.

I returned to school Thursday, and we immediately dove into new stuff. More specifically, in English class we are going to study the work(s) of Stephen Crane. Our English teacher usually adds some sort of contextual end to it [in this case to Red Badge of Courage] , but only after introducing some of the author's other works. In this case, we read Crane poetry. And I couldn't stop reading, which is really weird for me. I cannot poetry, end of sotry.

So when we got home, I googled Stephen Crane, and read through the intro to Red Badge, and found some interesting bits about him:

• He was the son of a [Methodist] preacher
• He worked in journalism for a while, and connected through some articles what war was like. Namely, the American Civil War.

The poetry is something I could've written (not in the average "oooh, I don't understand art" way but in the "I identify with this person" sort of way). Read this, for example:

A Man Said to the Universe
BY STEPHEN CRANE

A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!"
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”

Since I read this, I've been thinking about how true it is. In essence, the universe picks and chooses what is notable, much like society. It sort of reminds me of that scene in The Polar Express where Santa Claus tells that know-it-all kid that a bit of humility could do him good. Humility can do us all good.

One should not be judged on anything but the merit of his/her deeds, the motives for those deeds, and how they reacted in the face of it. Arrogance is not a virtue, it is annoying.

After pondering all this, my hallucinating mind came to the startling conclusion: I am Stephen Crane. The evidence is (not) concrete:

• I am the son of a[n Orthodox] priest
• I am considering photojournalism as a career path
• I am a docent at the Espy Post: a museum dedicated to the Civil War vets
• His style reminds me of what I perceive as my own style (wacky, disjointed, yet metaphorical in its meandering to the point where I can understand it)

This proves quite concerning, considering he died at age 29 and never married, but past that I can probably deal with being Stephen Crane, except, you know, tuberculosis. See what English class does to me? 

Let's See How Far We've Come 2013: The Year in Review

I did this last year, and I want to do it again before the javascript powering the bottom right copyright thing switches over to 2014 (I figured out how to do that this year, so that's something).  Nevertheless, I want to review the year, because a lot happened.

I didn't write a Christmas Letter this year, which I regret, but honestly I ran out of time. However, the line I borrowed last year from last year's letter holds true this year yet again:

This year was a challenge to see how full a schedule could be, and how much we could change.

January brought a bunch of posts inspired by song lyrics. It also brought Rick Sebak following me in Twitter, and seeing The Chief at the O'Reilly. Yes, I am a Pittsburgh nerd.

February brought the first 2013 Carnegie Elementary Talent Show, as well as TEDxGrandviewAve. It also brought the end to one of my Pittsburgh idols, Peter McKay,'s column in the Post-Gazette. Since then, I've attempted to emulate his style in a combination with Tom Bodett's.

March brought on some sort of philosophical nonsense I can't exactly justify. I was in the midst of that pre-musical funk mixed with a workload I never fully caught up with.

April brought 9 to 5, my second stage production. I also got my driving permit. To those asking me why I didn't try out for 2014's musical, click here.

May brought the second ReimagiNATION, and the goats incident.

June brought liberation from my sophomore year. It also brought the Three Rivers Arts Festival and yet another adventure into the city. (To only some people this will make sense:) we lost Millie, and Dakota. I got kicked out of the high school for the first time, and I went to a drive-in theater.

July brought Fourth of July up at Camp, and I celebrated 4 years of posting here. July also brought Bishop Daniel to Slickville and my father to the rank of Very Reverend. I was published by the UOW, and Signal Item.

August introduced me to the fantastic Spring Standards, and yet another subtle reminder of how much I love photography. It also brought yet another journey to the mythical land of Delmarva (again, it's NOT REAL!). It also brought with it the adventure that was the Baltimore Fender Bender and the start of my Junior Year.

September brought the start to my second year as announcer for the Carlynton Marching Band. It also brought me auditioning for Arsenic and Old Lace, an audition which led to a callback which led to me playing Teddy. It brought the second Powder Puff Game and it brought, wait for it.... wait for it.... THE GIANT RUBBER DUCK!!!!

His All-Yellowness

October brought the end to the Pirates's first winning season in TWENTY YEARS! *party popper* as well as a playoff game *noisemaker* all in view of the duck *fireworks*. It also brought Homecoming, and my first visit to Point Park University.

November brought the first set build I have ever attended, and the busiest month I can remember in a while that I couldn't exactly describe. I helped with the Carnegie Talent Show (yes again, twice in one year, yay!). We brought Arsenic to the elementary schools, and I was interviewed in the Signal Item.

December brought Arsenic and Old Lace. It brought near-end (it still functions, just not very well) of my $5 Yard Sale Camera, and an adventure into the city. It brought me the next chapter of my photography, I presume, with the acquisition of a DLSR camera as well as the realization that 2013 was one fantastic year.

All of the tickets from events I attended in 2013 - minus Arsenic, the Choral/Band Concerts at both CHS and the one at Bethel Park. Note the Bowling Wristbands and Wedding Singer Ticket.

I signed off last year with the proclamation: "I plan on writing by the way until at least 2015. From there only time will tell, but that seems to me to be a tad far off." One year from now, this year-in-review post will be halfway through my senior year of high school. It will be the last review before 2015, you know, the year I graduate and the year this blog is all about: my road to 2015.

To everyone that keeps up with this; reads this blog, thank you. During this same review on 31 December 2012 I said I had nearly 7500 pageviews, with like 100something posts. As of this post, this is post 212, with 12,500something pageviews. That's 5,000 views in one year. I cannot fathom that and have nothing to say but thanks.

It's Halftime America.

I went through five iterations of title on this, but because of my insistence on writing the title first, I just went with the famous Clint Eastwood commercial quote because I am going to a New Years Party with hosted by a guy who portrayed Clint Eastwood in the Match Game that benefited Arsenic. Lost? Good.

So this is my first full week off of school since summer break. It's a strangely peaceful feeling not having to accomplish some nonsensical deadline. It's during these times that I think the most, it's an isolation that comes as both a blessing and a curse. This week, it was a blessing.

Monday I spent decorating my house because up until that point I hadn't had the time to do so. It took 4 hours, and I probably shocked myself twice (but I can't remember) but it was totally worth it to see my parents' faces when it was all lit up.

Tuesday I spent doing, well, nothing really. Tuesday night I went to the church where we have scout meetings for a Lutheran Christmas Eve service. The front of the evening's bulletin read simply "All is calm, all is bright". And it was. There are certain things that I cannot put into words well, and one of those is the feeling of absolute peace. Not like a 'home' sort of feeling, but of resolution or at least reassurance. I only half payed attention to the service and more or less payed attention to the moment, to the experience of appearing and existing.

Wednesday was Christmas. My family would kill me if I focused on the sippy bird I received, but I would be stupid if I omitted it, because it's pretty awesome. I received from my family this year a Nikon DLSR D90 camera. In English, until this point I've been relying on the $5 Kodak point-and-shoot that my brother acquired for me at a yard sale. My photography has been luck-of-the-draw work. I'd shoot 200 pictures and get 30 that were in focus.

DSLRs are the step up from point-and-shoots. There is so much more control with these things, and on the first day of having this camera, I shot this lovely picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/alexanderpopichak/11557347076/. Essentially, it's freaking amazing at it's job. My family has been looking at some of the things I've been doing with the little Kodak, and decided I need to look into this more professionally.

To which I have a bit of a confession: I've been holding off on pursuing photography as something I can legitimately work with because I didn't think I had the camera worth it. Now I do. I have so much learning to do, but I want to take this further. If what they're saying is true and I have an eye for this, who knows what'll happen.

This isn't an answer (just read last week's post: it sums up my thought process at this point pretty well... I'm still lost, I think I may have found some breadcrumbs though...), it's a way to try something new; something that may lead to something else.

N.B.: All thanks go to My Parents, Paternal Grandmother, my aunt Marie and uncle George (yep, that Aunt Marie and Uncle George), the Spring Standards, the people that work with my parents, and Rick Dayton, who without his help this would have never happened.

To Just Stop In One Place

It seems all too often the focus of everyone's life is on moving. I don't mean just literal moving; it seems so many people, me included, feel unsettled or unsatisfied with where they are. For the first part of this I want to focus on moving, and the second part why moving.

This past week was insane: Sunday I was at a different church than my own (in Carnegie), Monday brought me filling in to film a girls varsity basketball game (GO COOOGURRRS!), Tuesday a high school band concert where I ran both lights and sound simultaneously (I shouldn't be allowed to touch audio), Wednesday brought my friend's concert at another school, Thursday brought the elementary band concert where I played stage manger, and Friday, Saturday, and today I was in Petrolia with my maternal grandparents and that section of my family.

In other words, for the past week I have been somewhat of a nomad. I throw myself this way and that, and I know that at least someone somewhere reading this does the same. Around the holidays it seems that the emphasis is on being home, and I can appreciate that because as of late I have been forcing myself out of my own home for [insert organization/obligation here].

With the workload I was given from school (aaah, all the things were due Friday), I became quite stressed; to the point where some of the teachers and my peers were concerned. I have this fifth period study hall that I always spend in the library. It all started because I procrastinate and the library has computers to write things in. It's also a quiet place to contemplate things, or to talk to a teacher about things.

Lately these talks have become philosophical - about figuring out where I'm going, what I want, feeling inadequate, those sorts of things. And I've realized this much: the reason I do so much is not because I want the stress or the full schedule, but rather because I like doing things. I was roped into the tech thing because I like it; it's a skill that's good to have (ha!) and it's fun to do.

Because, as I also learned this week: you don't ever know what you truly want. If you're lucky you know where you are. I keep moving and keep doing things because I don't know what I'm doing, where I'm going, and I want to cast out a wide enough net to figure out where that place I want to be is.

Ultimately, as goes the overused cliche, it's not about where you end up (because you can't see where that actually is) but rather how roundabout a way it takes for you to get there.

To all of you who celebrate this week: Merry Christmas. To those of you who don't: Happy Boxing Day.