“So I’m backstage after my performance at the Viper Room. In walk 16 of the hottest groupies I’ve ever seen before wearing nothing but kimonos and body glitter. I mean we’re doing zippers and zoomers, jalepeno poppers, you name it. Suddenly one of the twins starts yelling at me “oh my god your eyes are bleeding!” So they rush me to the hospital where I was legally dead for 17 minutes. Finally they shock me back to life. I say “thanks doc, now I’ve got a few ladies to entertain.” So 11 orgasms later, 2 and a half of them mine…the next thing you know I’m naked and on fire running through the lobby of the Chateau Marmont. It didn’t happen but maaaan, that would have been a wild night.”—John Mayer
My Senior Portfolio Reflective Essay (Slightly Edited for Internet Consumption)
High school is supposed to be one of the most life-changing times in a young person’s life. And I didn’t believe it until recently. I’m a senior now, and that means senior banquet, prom, graduation, and senioritis. But it also means preparing for college, saying your goodbyes, and getting ready to leave. Has high school prepared me for that? Not to say that I’m unprepared, but I feel that high school has both helped and harmed my development.
I moved to Alameda the summer before freshman year. While not one of the stereotypically “popular” kids at my middle school, I was well-known and well-liked. I developed very high self-esteem, something that would be viciously torn down throughout my freshman year, as I realized that although I had a previously established group of friends here, the general majority of this school regarded me as just another freshman. The destroying of my self-esteem was further destroyed by the breakup of my first girlfriend and I. While it was not even a remotely messy breakup, I had never experienced that sort of hurt, and combined with the collective hatred aimed at my freshman status, I was smashed flat.
Soon afterwards, however, I slowly began to piece myself back together. Now, I firmly believe that people can be smart without being intelligent, and they can be intelligent without being smart. Our class valedictorian has devoted years to getting good grades, and while I respect that, I don’t think they’re very intelligent, because I fear all the time they spent focused on schoolwork has stunted their social growth. Likewise, while I have had to repeat a class in summer school, and my grades haven’t been perfect since the 5th grade, I think of myself as an intelligent human being; one who can think for himself, make his way in the world without knowing Calculus or Physics, but rather one who knows the things that are more likely to affect you, like what not to say in certain company or how to win friends and influence people. But I digress. I looked around the halls of this hallowed institution and saw just how legitimately stupid the people around me were. So what if they spent a year calling me names? I’d be the one laughing when I read their names in the police blotter in the newspaper. While they cracked jokes and scraped the bottom of the proverbial barrel, I slowly matured into a well-rounded, intelligent, funny and personable student, and now I feel like a completely different person than I was then. I have extremely high self-esteem and self-worth, and I know that I can and will do whatever I set my mind to.
When a class or project interests me, I become incredibly enthusiastic. For example, I’m not a history buff, but the topics discussed in my government class this year interested me enough to quickly boost my usually average grade to a 106% A+ [Author’s Note: Since the time of this writing, the grade has been slightly lowered due to a few missed points on a couple tests. My bad.]. I’m completely enamored with the music department, being one of the most dedicated musicians in the school jazz band, and I don’t slack off. I always volunteer to solo, even on the most difficult of songs, and I’ve been named leader of the guitar section. I’m also extremely active in the drama department, having participated in shows throughout my entire high school career. I take the arts very seriously, and it upsets me deeply to see somebody take an art class for an easy A.
The name “Jason” is Greek for “healer,” and they say that laughter is the best medicine. I strive to be one of the funniest people around, and I feel that I’ve come close. Personality-wise, I try to be well-liked or at least tolerated. I don’t expect everyone to like me, but I don’t want to give anybody a reason to dislike me. I’m always willing to try new things, and I never insult someone to their face. People often come to me for advice, or if they just want someone to talk to who will listen. I like to think I’ve emerged from my cocoon of prepubescent awkwardness and transformed to a graceful social butterfly.
At this point, I’m sure it has become painfully obvious that I’ve taken to self-gratification in this essay. But does one really expect me to write all about my negative qualities? Do you, my dear reader, really want to hear about all the things about myself I dislike? Likewise, I doubt that spending this whole essay talking about how amazing I am would bore you to tears. I admit that I am not the greatest person on earth, but should anyone ever spend more than a brief moment thinking about their insecurities? I should say not. Over the past few months, I have developed a more optimistic approach to life, and I’ve found that harboring on the bad things doesn’t make them go away. They do say that ignorance is bliss, and that is true, to an extent. I don’t believe that anything bad should be ignored, because there will always be bad people and bad problems, and turning a blind eye is not the solution. But the little things that bother you in your day-to-day routine shouldn’t be given more than a passing glance before they’re removed from your mental periphery.
But, again, I digress. The purpose of this essay was to reflect on how high school has shaped me into the person I am today. And that person is a good person. That person has talent, drive, perseverance, high standards, and that person will go places. And I feel that what I’ve written on these pieces of paper are reflective of that. The key word is reflection. This was not a memoir of the last almost four years. This was me, Jason, talking to you, the reader, reflecting.
Tonight sucked. But at least I got out of work early.
dude im real happy for you,and jealous haha.so is it gonna be cd’s or lps?
It’s the remastered CDs. I already have about half of the albums on CD, but they’re from when they were originally released in the ’80s. I’m damn excited to hear them all remastered, especially A Hard Day’s Night and Abbey Road.
Mamihlapinatapai is a word from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego, listed in The Guinness Book of World Records as the “most succinct word”, and is considered one of the hardest words to translate. It describes “a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start.” (via Martin)
I don’t know. Every time I get scheduled to work, I groan and grumble, and in the hours before my shift starts, I dread work. The idea of it knots my stomach.
But then I get there and I’m fine. The hours [usually] pass quickly enough, and then I clock out and leave.
But for some reason, tonight feels like it’s going to last forever. If I can’t switch shifts with someone, I won’t leave until after midnight. I had a show last night and school today, and I have two shows tomorrow.
Let’s just hope I survive tonight.
[It’s a vicious circle. I get free movies if I work. But if I quit, I wouldn’t mind paying for the movies because I have money. But I wouldn’t have the money if I quit. And I love movies.]
Hiii, this is Rachelle. Jason told me to change the name of Fred’s Tumblr, so if you click the links previously posted, it won’t work anymore. The new name is “fuckyeahdrama3.” So yeah, just letting y’all know. Kbye.
We haven’t played that in a long time. Hell, we haven’t done any improv or games in a long time. It was Team Charades; boys vs. girls. Whatever bonds we held with the opposing team were temporarily broken, as testosterone levels rose to that not seen since Springsteen played the Superbowl. The girls sat idly as the boys shouted, “MEN! MEN! MEN! MEN! SCRO-TUM! SCRO-TUM! SCRO-TUM! YEAAAH!” among other boyish chants, racist slurs, and anything else offensive to human beings.
Here’s two lists. One is of phrases the girls made the boys act out and guess, and the other is what the boys made the girls act out and guess.
BOYS: Garren’s penis Brendan’s Innermost Fantasy Fred’s Innermost Fantasy PMS Battleshits Superbad Jurassic Park The Crucible Female Condom If These Balls Could Talk
GIRLS: Full House Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium Wanted Confessions of a Shopaholic Sherlock Holmes Capitalism: A Love Story
You get the jist.
Needless to say, watching Nina act out “female condom” was a lot funnier than watching Jamie freak out while trying to wordlessly describe “Sherlock Holmes.”
However, the girls still beat the boys in terms of least amount of seconds, because really, how the hell does one act out the word “magorium”? We posed this argument to the girls, who retorted with the fact that it took them two minutes to guess “female condom,” but both “female” and “condom” are words, whereas “magorium” is not.
Tomorrow we’ll be back to our regular dysfunctional family, instead of today, where we became the Manson family.
And if the band you’re in starts playing different tunes, I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.
Well, Dark of the Moon, anyway.
We’re a few shows in, and the shows show how showy people can be. [I had to type it; I just had to.]
But seriously, we’re ridiculously cliquey and/or exclusive this year. But it didn’t really affect me until last night.
I had invited six cast members and three audience members over to my house for a post-show Halloween party/sleepover.
Not to sound cocky, but I’d say I’m well-liked within the Drama 3 community. I’d like to think that I’m considered a friend to all (well, I’m not sure if the overcontrary, religious, probably anti-Semitic Jamie considers me a friend, but I don’t much care. As long as I’m not on his hitlist.). I can easily mesh with any clique in the class and carry on a conversation. However, I feel like I’m the only person in the class that can do that. Everybody loves Kristin, but she still stays within her group. Same goes for several others.
And this isn’t saying that I love everybody in the class. Far from it. While there isn’t anybody that I dislike (with the occasional exception of Jamie), there are just some people I’m indifferent about. But they’re [as far as I can tell] not indifferent about me. They like me, and that made it harder to not invite everybody to my house. The cast as a whole does not mesh at all. And I felt bad censoring myself, asking Kristin or Nina if “transportation was provided for” instead of if they had a way to get to my house. It felt overcryptic and unnecessary. I would love for the cast to be the type that I could just announce, “Does everybody have a ride to my house?” But they’re not.
One of the comforting aspects of that evening was that it was Halloween, and people did have plans. It wasn’t a cast party that I was throwing, it was a Halloween party with cast members and friends and my girlfriend. Had it been any other night, I would’ve felt worse. But I knew that people had parties to attend or late-night trick-or-treating to do. I knew people had other plans. I wish I loved everybody in the cast, and they all loved each other, and we’d all have a big fun party. But it’s not like that at all.
Today, Fred suggested that between the matinee and evening performances next Saturday we all get together at La Pinata for a cast meal (late lunch? Early dinner?). Some people liked the idea, but frankly, I don’t want to have a meal with most of the cast. I can handle them in class or at the show, but a lot of them aren’t my friends, and I feel no need to spend time with them otherwise.
I feel like a dick as I read over this, but it’s true. But let me reiterate that there’s no one I dislike. Just those I’m indifferent about. However, indifference isn’t enough to enjoy a chicken mole enchilada with. I’d much rather go to Tomatina with my close friends than La Pinata with the cast.
The cast is a family. A big, dysfunctional family. It’s a known fact that not everyone likes everyone, and that many people are disliked. I never show my indifference, and instead treat the cast with varying degrees of warmth. I’m not the kind of person to up and insult someone or call them out. Other people are, and that’s fine. People do need to be called out. Jamie needs to stop saying “aww, that’s nice” during the wedding scene. Zac needs to tone down his volume during the revival scene. Alyssa needs to stop talking backstage. But I’m not going to go up to them and call them out on it, and I’m certainly not doing it in front of the rest of the family cast. [That’s what the internet’s for.]
The Drama 3 class has always been ruled by seniors. And by now, the majority of the seniors have clearly defined personalities. The class will never be as close as we have been in the past, because our personalities and our stubborn unwillingness to change prevent it. However, the lines we draw between us can become less defined. We don’t have to be a chain-link fence.
Barbed wire hurts, but it’s strong, and it doesn’t go down easy.