The Adventures of Penny, PENY, and AMIE. :D

So I got bored this morning, and instead of studying for something, I made this little 'comic' (more like a (very long) useless doodle) about Theorem 5-5, for my Geometry Class. :D

 

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Fish Sticks

The Fish Stick method does not work. I guarantee you. However, it is vital that you know I have tried it, which is where I come up with my theoretically valid conclusion. Although the procedure was tested on one person, I have only one person at disposal, unless I'd like to dispose someone else.
Which I didn't really have the time to.
The disposed person is me, by the way.


SO. Anyway.

Today, in order to finish homework quickly, I ate fish sticks.
There were four.
I ate 3 and 3/4.
That 1/4 left was killing me.
But I left it on the plate, with the taste of fish sticks still in my mouth (and hot sauce, because I'm so Asian), and I in fact, tried to do all of my homework and keep looking at it but not eat it, so I’d do homework quickly, and I’d sleep early (and eat the remaining 1/4 fish stick). Somehow, it made perfect sense.
Seeming that right now, it is 11:37, it has not worked.

When it got late, I decided I might want to eat it before it was too late. But per my friend’s advice, it was already too late to eat. Which was, like, ten thirty. So here I am, sulking and staring at this stale (is it possible?) fish stick. No. Stale quarter of a fish stick. Which will, theoretically, never be eaten, because it’s stale. Oh, yeah. And the little hot sauce puddle.

Can fish sticks get stale?

I guess so.

Whatever.

The only point here is,

don’t use fish sticks to lure yourself for doing homework quickly.

In my case,

I forgot about it.

D: Which wasn’t exactly supposed to happen.

But there aren't supposed to and not supposed to's in life, aren't there? Everything happens for a reason. And only one thing happens at that. No supposed to. Just. This happened.

So, this is what happened.

I slept late.

Actually, I didn't sleep, but right now it's late, so I'm going to sleep late.

“YOU SNEAKY MOM!”

“YouTube Challenge–I told my Kids I ate All their Halloween Candy

It’s really late, I know, but I don’t want to lose the link—so. yeah.'

XD

High School Confusion

So… here is the time in which all eighth graders in Holmdel who are at least a bit interested in applying for any vocational school are stuck in a very confusing, conflicting predicament.

So right now, my options are:

Communications

High Tech

Holmdel

 

And then I think about it, and I go, hey, I remember when I was in kindergarten and a kid bullied me, and now I’m thinking about what high school I’m going to?

This is scary.

Weird, too, because you’re all like ‘OOH HIGH SCHOOLERS. HIGH SCHOOL. HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL. HIGH SCHOOL LOCKERS. HIGH SCHOOL SAT. HIGH SCHOOL HOMEWORK. HIGH SCHOOL STUDYING.”

Then you start noticing things, like the students there, what they study,

and you realize they’re closer than you think.

Well, that’s what I thought, at least.

 

So, right now, I really need to get less short so that when I go to high school, they don’t think I went to the wrong school or something.

 

“Uhh… I’m sorry, but this is the bus for Holmdel/High-Tech, not Indian Hill.”

Yeah I gotta sleep. Bahbye.

Mister Sparkle's Toothpaste [Commerical]

Now this takes TIME to make, so please excuse my sort of sloppiness and enjoy the commercial.

...and yes, it's not a real one. So don't get too hyped up.

(It's the result of getting a TABLET. :DDDDD)

 

Hehehehe... I wasted many hours of my life doing this--but it's fun. :D

Oh

copyright Celine Choo and Melissa Lew 2011.

Just don't spread Mr. Sparkle too much. I like inside jokes better than outside jokes. :D

The Closest I’ve Gotten to an Adventure

So—here is an account of the closest I’ve gotten to an adventure. And it’s all thanks to me, my mom, and my anger problems.

One day, my mom and I were in a fight (wow that sounds violent)—Imean, I got mad and she got mad and we had to go into the caps lock level of hollering in each other’s faces—waitno. I didn’t exactly holler. I just sort of raised my voice a little bit, and it was right before she had to take my brother to a piano lesson.

This was on… Wednesday?

Anyhow, she was standing at the door, and she spat something mean and bullyful and make-fun-ofsful and super mean thing to me, something very un-mother like, because usually mothers don’t make fun of you or anything, they just give you a full diatribe and reprimand on how you should improve (insert flaw in personality/complexion/intelligence here). So, there I was, my mother already in the car and driving away, me, fuming, sitting on the floor and ready to burst any minute,

and I came up with an amazing idea.

Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

It was the smartest thing I had ever come up with. It was brilliant—flawless.

I would run away!

At the moment, I felt a surge of triumph and contempt toward my mother, thinking ‘Hah, you can’t stop me now!’ Because I’d leave, and she’d be devastated, and she will regret doing such horrible things to me. She would say, “Oh, I should have been nicer to _, I should have understood her more, Oh, Please, Why did I do this?” And she would be sad forever. It was the best way.

Then I stared at my jacket, which was casually flung over bottom stair (that leads to upstairs) that I had put there after school that day, thinking, “In a few minutes, I will have picked that up and it would be all the way across the street along with me.”

Then, a feeling of anxiety began to bubble up from my stomach.

I didn’t feel like I was up to it.

But then I thought, “Well, you always say you’re going to do something, and you never do it.”

So I dared my self. I triple dared myself. I double decker doctor pepper super duper dared myself to take that jacket, put it on, shove my boots on, and run out the door.

Then I thought about it, and I decided that running away was overrated, and it wasn’t ‘the thing’ anymore, and that I’d just walk around the neighborhood. And then I’d walk in just as Mom would walk in (she only drops him off and comes right back), and she’d ask what happened, and I’d say that I wanted to run away, then she’d feel bad—not the same amount of impact as running away, but still some, at least.

So in a mush of anger, triumph, confusion, and anxiety, I stomped over to the coat, snatched it up, put it on, put on my scarf, put on gloves, shoved my boots on, and then looked at the door.

Then I started observing it.

Then I sidetracked and looked out the window, peered out, and someone had just come home from work, it seemed, their car door was open and they were leaning in to get something from the back seat.

So I waited.

I can’t go out now, because then they’d spot me, and I’d run out, and they’d yell ‘WHATCHA DOING, LITTLE GIRL?’ and then I’d have nothing to say but ‘I was running away from home’, but since the person saw me in unsuccessful attempts in doing so, I’d never be able to run away, meaning that every time they see me and I see them in the morning or afternoon, they’d always remember the ‘deranged child who tried to run away at around seven o clock.’

So I waited. Then I just sort of peered out the door, looking down the sidewalk into the parking lot (we live in a townhouse), watching the person TAKE THEIR TIME in doing whatever they were doing. And when they finally left, I felt fear filling my lungs, heart, mind, everything. I looked into the parking lot that was growing ever so darker, and then I thought to myself, “I bet you’re just going to do this and waste some time and then Mom would come in and see you all dressed up at the front door and be like ‘WHAT THE CAULIFLOWERS WERE YOU DOING?” and I’d have nothing to say, and every time Mom would see me in the morning or afternoon, she’d remember the ‘deranged child who tried to run away at around seven o clock.’

So I double doctor pepper super duper dared myself to take that door, swing it open, then take the screen door, swing it open, then run outside.

So I did.

I swung the door open (not as dramatically as it may sound or as you may think), and then ran out the door (more like, creeped out the door). Down the sidewalk, run, run, run, away from home, away from home—end of sidewalk. Then I stood there, staring at the end of the sidewalk and the beginning of the parking lot.

And I saw a car coming in the parking lot, and I thought to myself ‘OHDEARLORDPLEASEFORGIVEMEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE’ and I ran in at 100 miles per hour, past the screen door and door and into the house.

Then after about three minutes, I realized that the car was not in fact, my mother’s, and I opened the door a little bit, and I realized that the person was gone.

Whew.

Then I stared at the parking lot, and then double doctor pepper super duper dared myself to step INTO THE PARKING LOT.

 

OH GEEZUS LOUISEUS I JUST DARED MYSELF DO TO SOMETHING POTENTIALLY FATAL AND DANGEROUS.

But I swung the door open (quietly, because if I did it loudly, it would arouse attention from my father who would, most likely, be half asleep and doing computer work in the basement) and ran out the door and ran to the parking lot, stared at a person who just happened to open their door to walk outside, and then sped right back into the house.

I felt like an idiot, but at the same time, felt a surge of triumph (very similar with when I came up with the idea), thinking to myself, “I did it! I did it! Now, all I have to do is walk all the way behind the house and near the woods, walk all the way around, to the play ground, then walk around and come back home. It would be an absolutely rebellious adventure! I would take my phone as light and as an emergency, in case I got kidnapped or wounded by a nearby lurking wolf, and I would go through all that darkness and then COME BACK HOME! WITH A NEW SELF AND NEW TRIUMPH AND AN ADVENTURE TO TELL!

So I took my phone (after looking for it), then marched out the door. I then realized that to my right, my neighbor was talking to whomever it was at the door for like hours, and to my left, this man was leaving his house and going to his car and going back and on and on and on.

This would require maximum stealth, because in order to get behind my house and travel that far, I’d have to pass either of them.

So I took my phone, ran to the sidewalk, and suddenly decided that I’d save this for another day, so I ran back inside, except I didn’t feel like opening the door to get back inside. It was a waste, all that time of going from house to sidewalk to house to parking lot to house to…

so I sat, right in front of the door, outside of the door, looking out onto the street. There were two bushes to the side of the door, so I could be easily concealed from my two neighbors who refused to stay inside the house.

I felt so rebellious, triumphant, and HIDDEN. I felt like I could sit here all day, because I had done something I had never done before, and next time, I might even wake up in the middle of the night and go on an adventure—maybe I’d even tell my friends to come, too—my neighbor friends, if they agreed.

Yes!

Phobia Contest

DODODODODODODODODODODODO.... drumroll, please...
CONTEST!

And it's already started. I made this contest a while ago, and I forgot about it, but thanks to Melodee, I remembered about it--
It's a contest against myself.
What? A contest against yourself? Is that a typo? How can you verse yourself in a contest?
It's a phobia contest, hence the title.
Heh. What's the contest--to see who has more phobias? YOU WIN.
Well, no. It's to memorize the most phobias.
WELL, Miss Phobia-Memorizer, then you'll get phobophobia.
Hey, I know that! It's the phobia of phobias!
Duh.
Anyhow, how's the contest going? And how do you win?
Well, since I'm going against myself, it's really a test to see how far I can go in memorizing phobias. Pretty useless thing, but according to Mr. Ferraro, "Sometimes, the best reason to do something is because there is no reason at all."
So, you're saying you're going to memorize a whole list of phobias? Just for the sake of it?
Yeah. And so far, I've memorized quite a few.
List them!
Okay. I'll list all of the phobias I know. You can choose to believe me, or you can choose not to, but I'll swear if I can swear but I can't swear so I'm not going to swear, but if I could swear, I would swear that I memorized ALL OF THE FOLLOWING:

Phobophobia- the fear of getting a phobia
Hydrophobia- the fear of water.
Chronophobia- the fear of time
Ecophobia- the fear of home
Felinophobia (not sure if I spelled it right)- the fear of cats.
Bibliophobia- the fear of books
Brontophobia- the fear of thunder
Arachnaphobia- the fear of spiders

OH NO, I forgot some! Imean, I did memorize a bit more, but I just can't remember them.
Or, maybe, I just think I memorized more, but actually I didn't.

Source: www.phobialist.com The BEST place to find the weirdest phobias! Ctrl+F or Command+F (on Macs) and type in the phobia you want!

OHHH
So I looked at the list, and I remember.
I knew what hippophobia was-- the fear of horses (pretty ironic).
And glossophobia--the fear of speaking in public (The King's SpeechCOUGH).


And some new, easy, and interesting phobias:
Graphophobia- the fear of writing or handwriting.
Euphobia- the fear of good news (those people must be really depressed).
Electrophobia- the fear of electricity (Darklings have electrophobia).
Dromophobia- the fear of crossing streets ("Why did the chicken cross the road?" "Because it was finally relieved of dromophobia and wanted to try it out for once." "!?")
Cynophobia- the fear of dogs or rabies (A relative of mine has cynophobia).
Disposophobia- the fear of throwing things out. Hoarding. (I might have slight disposophobia.)
Demophobia- the fear of crowds. D:
Clinophobia- the fear of going to bed. (Little kids have clinophobia. XD)


:DDD Phobia contest FTW!

Raid for Information

Oh. My. Godsh.
I just remembered--the human can only learn a lot until they're twenty years old. It's true. After you're twenty, you can't learn anything too new. Maybe you might learn small facts, but you won't be able to quickly develop some skill after you're twenty. From 0 yrs to 20 yrs is when your brain develops the most.
I am going crazy. I need to eat up all the information possible--in seven years! SEVEN YEARS TO GET ALL OF THE WORLD'S INFORMATION IN MY BRAIN. I need to start.
NOW.
So, I must go to the library and get books on psychology, then get some books on physics, some textbooks in geometry, Calculus, and Algebra II, then get some books on the Theory of Evolution, the science of somethings, this and that fact, learn about architecture and software design and engineering, learn how to do html coding, learn five other languages, study product designing, master the translation of Korean, do this, that, that, that, that,that,that,THATTHATHATHATHATHATHAT.
...Hey, that looks like I wrote "HAT" rather than "THAT." Hmph.
Whatever.

But I'm really freaking out scared.
I need to know LOTS OF THINGS before I lose my ability to learn quickly. O:
After all, you can't teach an old dog new tricks. O:


...WAIT! That means I can't learn all that new technology made after I turn twenty--I'll be like those old people who can't find the start button! D:
(Not trying to insult old people--old people are awesome.)

Sorry, buddy. You can't get an awesome job.

Now, I must wake up early--I must--it has become a mandatory something now. Every day--I have to wake up at six--by myself.
Oh, the horrors--
no human alarm to shake me awake and scream in my face to WAKE UP ALREADY, YOU'RE GOING TO MISS THE BUS.
(Those are the most efficient types of alarms--they're also known as grumpy frustrated mothers.)

Because today, I missed the bus (previous post), and my mother is thoroughly frustrated and mad. She says she will not take me to school if I miss the bus. Meaning, I'll have to skip school--which is awesome.
But there's more. (There's always more.) (No, sometimes, there actually isn't any more, because at one point, you'll have to stop. But in this case, there's more.)
Anyhow,
the 'more' is...

She won't call the school, either. For an excused absence.

And apparently, if you miss school with an unexcused absence, then you get suspended or something (which is what my mother says, but then again, she's not the school rulebook--I'll have to look that up).
Meaning, that'll stay on my criminal record for the REST OF MY LIFE.
Which is pretty scary, if I'm, say, applying for this really awesome job (which is scary, because I haven't thought that far into the future yet--I can't even imagine what job I'm applying for), and they look at my experience--decent; school/college--decent; blah blah--decent; criminal record--OH NO SHE GOT SUSPENDED FOR SKIPPING SCHOOL! WHAT IF SHE SKIPS A DAY OF JOB/WORK!?
And I won't get a job, and I'll become bankrupt, and I'll live on the str--

Actually, I'll just have to apply for a little less awesome job, but it's missing the chance to get into the awesome job. Anyhow, it's always more exciting to exaggerate a little bit and let others have more sympathy towards you.

Anyhow, even if I do miss the bus, and I can't go to school, what am I going to tell the principal/teachers? "Well, my mother refused to take me to school." What a REASON.
Even if it's true.
I bet the teachers would TOTALLY understand and say, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Celine, you have such a lazy misunderstanding mother, she didn't take you to school... Well, we'll let this one go, but if you SKIP SCHOOL NEXT TIME YOU'RE GOING TO GET SUSPENDED AND IT'LL STAY ON YOUR CRIMINAL RECORD THE REST OF YOUR LIFE AND YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO GET AN AWESOME JOB."

Oh, joy.
I'm going to be so scared every morning--to miss the bus.
One day, I might just burst and finally crack and start screaming and hollering and running out of the house without my backpack or something.
Maybe not.
But anyhow,
I'll always have to wake up without that oh-so-efficient human alarm. D:

At least I'll be prepared for college--no human alarms there.

Today I missed the bus.

Every day, I wake up late.
Because every night, I sleep late. Almost to the extent that I can say every morning, I sleep late.
But sleeping late results to waking up late, which results to many things.

Like missing the bus.

Every other day, I have to go to band--riding the high school bus (oOOH HIGH SCHOOLERS). I'd drag myself to the bus stop, half awake, then drag myself onto the bus, search wearily for an empty two seater (unless my friend is there, in which case, I must find a three seater---and it's always me who has to find the seat because I get on the bus first), and if I do (which, most of the time, I do), I sit there.
And to tell other people that they are NOT going to sit next to me, I put my backpack there. Or I sit in the MIDDLE of the two seater, so only two half-people can technically sit next to me, and nobody there is a half-person.
Most of the time, that works.
Except for this one time I forgot to do that, and this high schooler (girl) suddenly almost sat on my lap, so I couldn't help moving over, and I looked at her--she was smiling at me.
I was thinking 'do I know you?' But of course, I kept quiet, because what do you know--high schoolers might do anything sudden, such as yell at you or suddenly start reciting a stream of profanity.
Anyhow, besides that one time, the two-seater thing worked.

So I went to the bus stop, and my friend wasn't there, so I thought, 'Oh, well, I have to find a two seater today, then.'
And I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And the bus came, and it PASSED RIGHT BY ME and I put my hands up like 'WHAT THE FLOWERS! GEEZUS LOUISEUS HELLO I'M RIGHT HERE!'
But it passed by, and as it did, I caught a glimpse of the bus driver--a scrawny looking man, instead of the usual chubby old lady who would slump in her seat and grunt 'good morning' the moment you laid a foot on the bus.
So it wasn't my bus. It was another school's bus, because I knew that three buses came to our neighborhood--that bus, our Holmdel High School bus, and the short bus. I'm sure there are others, but that's the only ones that come during the time the Holmdel bus comes.
The bus that passed by me today and totally ignored me usually came AFTER the Holmdel bus, in which case, told me that I'd missed the bus today.
And the short bus comes before the Holmdel bus comes, and it stops right in our court. I've never seen anyone get on, but I assume it's for people with disabilities--the short buses usually give that purpose.
Anyhow, I saw the bus driver, and it hit me--I'd missed the bus.
But, unlike any normal eighth grader would have done, I waited a bit more, in desperate hopes.
And...
the bus didn't come.

So I dragged myself back home, which, in the state of the situation, I was a bit alarmed, so I was three fourths awake (very awake, compared to the usual ratio of awake/asleep-ness). And I walked inside the house, imagining the possibilities, the reactions my mother would make--
Too late, I had already opened the door--no time anymore to prepare myself for her reaction.
"MOM I MISSED THE BUS!"
I waited, very patiently, for footsteps stomping down the stairs.
But no.
This is my mother--
from her bed, "YOU GOTTA LEARN A LESSON--I'M NOT TAKING YOU TO BAND."
And what choice do I have? Walk to school? Drive to school?
or...
Wait for the Satz bus to come.
I had no choice but to wait.

Now that I think about it, I think my mother said that 'I have to learn a lesson' because she just didn't feel like getting out of her bed at the time. Maybe... :D
So, as I was waiting for fifty minutes, I wrote this post--and finished it when I came home--which is now. :D

SO, that's what happened today.

NO SCHOOL

NO SCHOOL
Thursday:
-Piano lesson in the morning
-Translate for the whole day (a book and a half, two essays) (because of my procrastination)
-Practice bassoon
Friday:
-Go to a place and review translations with fellow procrastinating translator buddies
-Practice bassoon.
-And piano. D:
Saturday:
-Translation competition (SO READY.)
-Practice some more bassoon--waitno i come home late. D:
Sunday:
-Church
-Come home, do some homework
-Practice bassoon
-Practice piano


Oh, the wonders of weekends--so much FREE TIME, I can't WAIT FOR IT. D:

i am not going to live life vertically challenged

The title.
Is pretty self explanatory.

So i will not:
log onto gmail unless i HAVE to
log onto ANYTHING unless I have to
distract myself
start wandering off somewhere else
forget that I'm doing homework
come up with a story idea and then get trailed off and write for an hour or two
doodle on the corner of every paper for nearly thirty minutes
stare at the wall
dilly dally for like two hours after school
say I will start it 'tomorrow' (every day)

So I will:
try to be quick in everything
do as much homework in school as possible
come home and do homework as soon as I come home
try to somehow fit in jump-roping into my schedule so that I do not, the title, live life vertically challenged
AND
I will still maintain a life.

Whew this is going to be hard because:

I am super slow
I am super duper slow.
I am super duper mooper cooper pooper slow.
AND
I don't like fast,
unless you get a prize.
:D prize!

If I do this for a week, I will earn a piece of candy.



HAHA! My plan is flawless now! It is perfect, foolproof, THE way to get yourself to do homework before eleven!

I will make it a contract.
See?

THIS IS ALL ADMITTED BY:

Celine Choo

Dangit, there's no script font in blogger. D:




...I just realized. Making this post is breaking all of the rules.
D:


...Tomorrow.

Idea

So I have an idea--it's that I can write fanfiction--only not fanfiction, just sort of LIKE fanfiction.
...
You know how fanfiction is like a story made up by a fan that is based mostly on the story but they made it the way they wanted it to be (adding characters, changing plot 'slightly', etc.)? Well, my version is when you take something that really happened to you, then change it a little (not adding characters, just the plot), so that you feel better, and it ends up (in the 'story') that you end up happier than you actually did in real life.
It's a way of escaping reality AND making you feel better. :D
And I'm calling it Truthfiction. :D Ironic, eh?

The Compliment-Insult Cycle

When your friend becomes all negative and starts insulting themself, saying they’re bad at _______:

You:

Deny it, even if you doubt it a bit yourself, too, and start complimenting them massively.

 

When your friend is still all negative and is still insulting him/herself, now coming up with better reasons to why they’re stupid than your random claims to why they’re smart:

You:

Suddenly switch to the subject of your flaws and insecurities, and start insulting yourself.

 

And here, the Compliment-Insult Cycle begins.

BUT.

When your best friend becomes all negative and starts insulting him/herself, saying they’re bad at _____, you:

Agree.