Columns

Sprinting across the shiny hardwood floors after completing my homework, I race into the office and quickly boot up my computer. Anxiously, I wait for Internet Explorer to start up, tapping my fingers nervously against the keyboard. Finally, the page loads and I urgently type in the URL, begging it to speed up. A few seconds later, a wide grin spreads across my face as I read the title “Updated: 03-2-09.”

It may seem strange that I get so excited for a simple updated webpage, but fanfiction.net has become my main source of reading material, containing millions of stories based on characters and settings from popular books, movies, and television shows. The website provides anyone with the means to publish their writing and receive feedback in a completely anonymous setting.

I used to have a fish when I was seven. It was a small, orange little creature always eager to see me--well, at least it didn’t hide from me under the coral when I came to feed it. As a young girl, I used to wonder what it would be like to be a fish in a fish bowl—being stared at all the time, and having to endure people tapping on the glass, wanting you to do something more? I never imagined actually having this experience—but oh, was I wrong!

I like taking risks, if they don’t involve anything too extreme. The only problem is, in the Saratoga environment, chances to go beyond the expected are rare. So when my newspaper staff decided to profile students and Falcon staff members who did something unexpected for a day, I viewed it as my chance to do something exciting and totally “Un-Grishma.”

When most people think of overalls, they think of the strange denim jumper worn by an old farmer milking his cow with a straw hat and dirty cowboy boots… or they think of the 90s. But hey, no one ever said it was impossible for a city girl to bring back this classic look. Besides, old styles are constantly coming back: converse high tops, leg warmers, shoulder pads even crazy bell bottom jeans have found their way to Cosmo. So, I guess there’s hope for me.

I defy the fashion police (a.k.a. every teenage girl) every weekend by sporting my very own pair of dark denim overalls, chest pocket and all.

Help! I’m drowning!

Between junior year classes, extracurricular activities and sports, I honestly don’t know if I’ll survive to see the glorified summer ’09 come around. Just in case I don’t, I’ve made a bucket list of things I want to do before I die from over-stressing myself:

Surviving on a budget can be a relief and burden at the same time. Sure, the freedom of having money on hand without parental consent has its perks, but the responsibility of keeping my account balance from bouncing back can get tricky at times. From what I’ve heard, others go as far as freezing their credit cards in a cup of water as a method of self-restraint from impulse purchases. Hopefully, that’s an extremity to which I won’t have to resort.

Four shirts, three key chains, two sets of matching PJs, two posters: $120.
A sweatshirt, a bath set, a loofa, a towel set, a CD of all songs Superman, a bag: $100.
A backpack, a costume, a lunch box, a book, one action figure, various tattoos and stickers: $75.
My obsession with the world’s first superhero: priceless.

It has been 92 minutes since I sat down in a burst of conviction to write this article. This burst of conviction has proved to be very short-lived, however, as in these 92 minutes I have gotten exactly these two sentences done. What have I been doing? Friends who know me well might guess that I was just wasting time as usual on the Internet. Well, such friends would be almost correct, except I don’t consider it to be “wasting time.” Seeing as how this article is about Facebook stalking, I really just spent a solid hour and 32 minutes conducting intensive research on my topic.

Most people think that only boys could possibly love football because it is such a physical sport. They are always huddled together in the parking lot tailgating before a game or preparing to watch their favorite football team battle it out on Sunday. But, even though I am a girl, I am passionate about football, too.

My mom often jokes with me and asks, “Annie, do you eat to live, or live to eat?” I already know the answer, but do you? Step into my time machine and I’ll show you.

Every night before I go to bed, I enjoy myself a little “Midnight snack.” I’m sorry, that was a typo. “Midnight feast.” When I first started this habit, my mom would try to discourage me from eating so late into the night because eating late supposedly makes you gain weight. But this didn’t stop me. I continued snacking on cereal, Cup Noodles and leftovers until finally my mom gave in. She now prepares food for my fourth meal of the day on a regular basis. The ironic thing is that most of the time I’m not even hungry when I eat at midnight. I just miss the feeling of having food in my mouth, so I go searching for a snack in my refrigerator.

I would say that I’m pretty good at making most situations not awkward. I just talk incessantly, regardless of whether the other person can keep up with my fast-paced talking. If I’m placed in a situation where there are potential awkward silences, I’ll talk myself out of them. But there are a few situations when I can’t use words as my scapegoat.