The Avocado and Me

I am, officially, an incredible procrastinator. And no one believes me.  I'm the sort of person who will set a deadline for finishing a book, but won't read the book during the week set aside; instead, I'll stay up all night the day before the deadline, set the audio book speed to times two, and stare at a wall and do nothing else until the credits roll. Does that make me a bad reader? Maybe. Does that mean I don't appreciate books or get out of them what I ought to? Perhaps. Homework is sort of an afterthought I'm always thinking about. I'll be learning to do forearm stands, or macrame-ing, or watching a true crime series on Netflix; all the while, I'll be thinking about how I should  be doing chemistry papers. Then, after hours (plural) of considering working, I'll get it all done in an hour (singular). I'm either extremely focused, or completely distracted. There is no in between. The thing is, no one believes that I'm a procrast

At the beginning of the year, my English teacher assigned The Great Gatsby , by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Predictably, she asked us all, "do you think we'll have another roaring twenties?". I wasn't sure if she was talking about alcohol and swing dresses, or just mayhem in general, so I didn't reply; I have my answer now. Clearly, we're living through a wild time, but it's quite different than the era of one-hundred years ago. Our roaring is worlds away from glaring trumpets and speakeasies - it's a little quieter. A little more planned. It's eight P.M. fireworks and howling and little girls spinning in backyards. It's Zoom notifications and NPR news. To Fitzgerald's gin, I have black tea. To his brash cityscape, I have a silent suburb. Another month has come and gone, and it's odd, because I didn't hear it fly by. It was sneaky and molasses-y, and I can't tell you exactly what I did, because time has become pretty irrelevant.

I've been thinking about reality, and its significance. Naturally, it's an important part of our lives - it's the context within which we function, thrive, and hurt. But I was thinking more so about how it impacts us, mentally. The current state of the world is something I don't need to go into with you. I'm sure you're all very much aware of what's happening, very much stressed, and very much in need of some not-so-downcast stories. That's why I've been loving John Krasinski's YouTube channel, SNL (Some Good News); all of the people behind the channel are making a real effort to highlight as many joys as possible, worldwide. That's why I so enjoyed the One World Together At Home concert. Nothing like some good old Elton John and three super-imposed Keith Urbans to make you smile. That's why I'm avidly trying not to dwell too much on the present, and instead hope for what is to come. Today, I thought I'd throw a light sort of

One of the things I miss most about school is my math group. Alejandra, Luke, Taylor, Nathan, John, Ameya and I would sit in the back of the room during work time. John the Brilliant Freshman and Alejandra the Amazing Sophomore helped us to understand logarithms; Ameya fretted over his 98% ("I had a 102! This is so  disappointing."); Taylor, Luke, and I talked about theatre. And Nathan? Nathan ate personal-sized pumpkin pies. He is potentially one of my very favorite people, ever. Apart from struggling over exponential decay and trig, my math group had some really beautiful conversations over the last six or so months. One of these came on a snowy Wednesday at 2:15. College and credits had come up. What classes we were planning to take, the grades we needed, extracurriculars - the like. Luke on whether or not AP Calculus BC was worth it. Ameya saying he has no interests other than doing what his parents want him to do, which made us all a little sad. Taylor telling us he

Here's the scoop: I will never, ever, ever  complain about English class again. You don't appreciate what you've got until it's unceremoniously snatched away from you.  A cliche as old as time, yes, but there's a reason cliches are cliche: they're true. This week was my first navigating the uncharted waters of mass public online school. And boy oh boy, was it a... time. I only worked for two-ish hours a day, three days out of the week. That was nice. Plenty of leftover time for walks, books, and YouTube video essays. Procrastination was an avid friend, I drank ten times the amount of tea I normally would, and I have listened to too many British romance audio books. Though online school itself was relatively okay, I really, really miss seeing people. I miss my choir friends and my math group; I miss the people I don't know and the miscellaneous faces in the hallways. Phone calls don't quite do the trick. The best thing we can do for one another right