An Apology

Dear Readers,

I am sorry that my fourth blog about people with red hair offended readers. I was stupid and misguided, and I apologize. In no way did I intend for my blog post to be viewed as hateful, rude, or racist. I was just trying to poke fun at ginger hair, and I realize in retrospect that I did so in poor taste. I deleted the blog and I sincerely apologize for any hurt feelings or offense that I've caused.

Ben

Day 14: Writing These Blogs

                Well, since this is my final day of writing blogs, (cue the tears) writing about the creation of my blogs seemed fitting. For the past 2 weeks, I’ve been writing blogs about things I don’t like. Although there are quite a few topics that I have left untouched by my wrath, (namely Twilight, people who make everything about themselves, the Star Wars prequels) I have found myself running out of things to rant about. If you type the letter ‘T’ in my Google search box, a large assortment of different forms of the search ‘things people don’t like’ show up. When I first chose this topic, part of its appeal was that I expected Melissa to make me choose a different one. I was testing my boundaries and I was unprepared for what would happen when I found out that there weren’t any. Because of my lack of inspiration throughout the majority of this project, I sit down at my computer and can’t just start typing away about things that annoy me. First, I look at the news, iTunes, IMDB, my Facebook news feed, and try and find something that stands out as ‘blog-worthy.’ Only then can I finally start drafting my blog and creating the marvels you readers expect daily. This process takes hours, and I find myself thinking about what would happen if I chose to write about something that I liked every day. I envision blogs filled with praise for Starkid, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, my various friends, Coldplay, the Shins, and ice cream. But since there’s no sense in trying to change what’s already been done, I continued to pour my soul into my writing and make the best of what I chose.

            Another con to my project was the forced negative outlook that I’ve been forced to dwell on for the past better portion of the month. For hours at a time, I put aside my happy thoughts about butterflies and ponies, and filled my brain with ginger hate and detentions in their stead. Through my writing, I come off as a pessimistic sort of person, but in reality I hope to be perceived as the opposite. I don’t go through life intent on drawing attentions to the things that I hate! I try and appreciate the good things that happen to me whenever I can. In the end, I believe in living my life in accordance to this quote:

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.

Day 13: The Lost Finale

Throughout the course of my life, my free time has fallen prey to a number of television programs. Scrubs, Person of Interest, 30 Rock, Soap, Family Guy, That 70’s Show, and Friends, to name a few. However, there was one show that really stood out from all the others. LOST. LOST was the story of a plane full of people that crashed on an island. In a nutshell, a lot of crazy stuff happens, and half the characters that were introduced to the plot die. What really made LOST compelling to me were the intricate plot lines, character developments, and backstories. I became attached to Jack, Sawyer, Hurley, Sayid, Kate, Claire, Charlie, and of course, Ben. When it was announced that the sixth season was to be the last, I anxiously anticipated the conclusion of the series and all the satisfying answers to my lingering questions. What questions, you ask? Well, I wanted to know why are there polar bears on the island, what the man in black’s name is, what’s the deal with the smoke monster, (you heard me correctly. Smoke monster.) why does Richard live forever, why does the island move, why does the island travel in time, why does Hurley see dead people, why is there an alternate reality in which Desmond is the only person to know what’s going on, what’s the deal with Claire’s demon child, and most importantly, why doesn’t Hurley lose weight on the island?  The finale was brilliant, and it answered all of these questions with a sufficient conclusion. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be further off from the truth.

            The writers did no justice to the series with its finale. In fact, not only did they fail to answer any pre-made questions, but they made more mysteries. In the episode, a character named Desmond falls into a cave filled with light and moves a rock from a platform. Suddenly the island begins to fall apart, and the smoke monster possessing Locke’s body becomes mortal. Confused? So was I. What does that rock have to do with anything? We’ll never know. Just 2 episodes prior to the finale, it was revealed that the smoke monster and his mysterious brother, Jacob, had lived on the island for thousands of years. It was also revealed that they were both gods. That was not clarified at all. Writers, are you telling me that you just threw that plotline in there for the hell of it? How does that make any sense? You owe it to us fans to give us something better than that! I always thought that the creators of the show had a defined plan that would someday enlighten all the confused viewers, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. It seems like they were just throwing random plot twists into the story because they couldn’t think of any resolution. For one of my favorite shows, this was a huge disappointment.

Day 12: My Detentions

                Throughout my time in upper school, I’ve had many detentions. So many, that I’m actually having a difficult time accounting for each one. The current number of detentions I’ve received is around a dozen. Give or take. Looking back, I have no idea how this happened. I just go through my day-to-day life and make the choices that seem right at the time. Who’d have thought that so many of them happen to be the polar opposite of what I should be doing? What bothers me the most about my detentions is the lack of justification for their dispensation. Would you consider asking someone for a chair detention-worthy? Of course not, but I got one for it anyway. How about finishing the task at hand and starting a new piece of work in art class? DETENTION.  Does it sound logical for me to receive a detention for tapping my pen on the table during science class? Where does logic come into this, of course I should get a detention! When it comes to detentions at NFS, I can’t help but notice that the teachers are more than a little bit trigger-happy.

                What annoys me the most about getting detentions is that I see so much worse stuff going on around me. I could be yelled at for talking with my friends, but Alessandra is the loudest person in the world, and I’ve never seen her being scolded for having an off task conversation with her friends. When I bring this up, teachers make the point that because of my former actions I’ve built a reputation for myself. What? The only reason that I’ve made a name for myself in the detention business is because I’ve been labeled as ‘the kid who deserves them.’  If I hadn’t been easily made into a target in the first place, I don’t think I’d find myself with such a wide résumé of punishments.

Day 11: Homework

            I hate doing homework. As an eighth grader, I’ve grown accustomed to having multiple hours’ worth of assignments nightly. Instead of hanging out with my friends or doing things that I want to do, I am forced to tediously find the value of x and conjugate Spanish verbs. While I do believe that homework is good for the purpose of repetition, I would much rather go over the material in class and then not need to do extra work afterwards. If I don’t understand a concept, it is reasonable to need homework, but if I comprehend the subject matter, I don’t understand why I’d need to waste my evenings with homework. In the time that I’d spend not doing homework, I could be learning new skills and enjoying new hobbies which I can put to use outside of the classroom.  The community would be full of people with new skills to bring to their day to day lives if they weren’t constricted by the work controlling their afternoons.

            Essentially, I am sick of spending my afternoons looking out the window at gorgeous days, but then looking down at the blog that I need to write for English class. Adults don’t have homework! Adults go to their jobs during the day, and then typically come home without overwhelming demands from their jobs. All I can say is that I wish that I could say the same.

Day 10: The 'Eighth Grade Needs Leadership' Speech

            I am sick and tired of hearing the same old speech from upper school teachers. “The eighth graders lack leadership.” In what way, you ask? “Well,” they lecture, “None of you ever show up to TASC meetings, or participate in school dances and events.” You’ve been saying this to us since we were in sixth grade. Maybe on the whole we are apathetic, but we are who we are. Some of us participate and some of us don’t. I don’t go to TASC meetings because they are unbelievably unproductive. When I was in sixth grade, I recall an entire meeting about which hand sign was going to be used to signify silence? REALLY? I could be enjoying some of my only free time in the day with my friends outside at recess. “But why don’t you go to the dances and take up your roles as leaders at the school events?” I don’t go to the dances because they’re awful. The majority of the upper school student body plus unwanted 5^th graders crammed into the hot auditorium whilst the DJs play “Quaker-education-friendly-music” through the speakers. I go to the dances to have fun, not to serve as a role model for the fifth graders.  I am then asked why I don’t go to the Dance-a-thon. Do I truly hate the poor starving children in Darfur? I support the cause, and I’ll donate money, but if you think I would enjoy a dance like I mentioned above going on for 4 hours with more kids and music that still has to be friendly for 9 year olds, then you clearly don’t know me.

            Finally, the argument that the faculty makes that gets on my nerves the most: “Ben! You are so selfish. Think about the rest of the school, and do things that don’t just benefit yourself.” Oh come on. I’m a good student, I actively participate, and I’m typically a polite person. This is my last year at Newtown Friends and we only have five more months until June. Only two other kids from my grade are going to the high school that I will be attending, and I want to be able to enjoy the remaining time that I have at NFS to see my best friends daily. I don’t feel obliged to contribute more than I already do, and I resent your ongoing efforts to make me feel guilty about it.

Day 9: The Process of Flying on an Airplane

                When you envision getting on an airplane and going somewhere, you probably have one of two fantasies in your mind. You might think of short lines, good food at the terminal, and a beautiful view from high above the ground. If this is your opinion, you are an awful human being. You also probably enjoy shooting puppies and ruining childhoods. If you’re like me, you are probably visualizing the more realistic travel experience. In a nutshell, this is what you’re more likely to encounter:

               THIS HAPPENED TO ME:
 Your flight departs at 7:00, and you’re only just out the door at 5. The drive to the airport is a hassle, and you find yourself already stressed out. When you reach the airport, all the convenient parking spots in the garage adjacent to your terminal are taken, so you have to park in terminal C when you really need to get to terminal A. You take your suitcase and sprint to the baggage check. The line moves slowly, and when you reach the front you find yourself dealing with a stressed out Jamaican woman who doesn’t know much English and doesn’t care if your belongings get on the plane or not. Then, you wait for another couple dozen minutes in the airport security line just to be taken over for additional screening. After the dim-witted TSA employees realize that you’re NOT a terrorist, you run to your gate and barely make the last boarding call. So finally you’re on the plane! You find your seat between a large man who smells like he hasn’t showered since the dinosaurs went extinct, and a woman who keeps trying to spark awkward conversation. You’re already nervous about flying, and the only movie being shown is Castaway. You haven’t eaten in hours, and when meals are being passed around you forget how much the meat resembles cardboard and that the fish is clearly oozing. Only 6 hours left to go.

                Needless to say, I don’t enjoy flying. The way that I start off a vacation shouldn’t be filled with stress! It should be a fun and relaxing experience that isn’t remotely stressful. Someday, I hope that I will be able to invent a transporter, so I could decide where I want to go, and then be there within seconds. You hear that, Brandon Neway? BUILD ME A TRANSPORTER.

Day 8: Today's Music

                I know I’m a little bit young to be talking about how everything was better ‘back in the day,’ but when I look at the top 10 songs on iTunes, I can’t help but lose faith in society. The most popular songs are comprised of over-produced beats (see ‘Good Feeling’), and pitiful, meaningless lyrics (see ‘Rack City’). Bands with real talent are becoming a minority, and wannabe rappers are taking their places. I believe that the hip-hop genre of music is expanding indefinitely, leaving other styles of music to die. Now, before I proceed to call every rapper terrible, I would like to point out that I think there are still some rap artists who I find talented, such as Jay-Z, Kanye West, and Drake. But really, the rest are just dreadful. When I was a bit younger, I had admittedly bad taste in music. Up until around a year ago, I enjoyed artists like Lil Wayne. I also purchased every pop song that was topping the charts so that I could have cool music like everybody else. Then one day, I began listening to My Chemical Romance. My eyes were opened, and I had discovered a new kind of music: moderately good music. Soon after, I began listening to Coldplay, Keane, Darren Criss, and The Shins. Once I was accustomed to listening to excellent music, I quickly learned that I couldn’t go back to my previous habits. I’m afraid that because of this I’ve become a bit of a music snob.

                The music industry has become a place where originality goes to die. It’s been forever since I’ve listened to something new that really stands out in my mind as good. Because of the time involved to create a good album, I have to wait years for new albums from the bands I like to come out. Then, once I purchase them, I listen to each track on the album repeatedly, until finally I can’t listen to it anymore. THEN I have to wait again. If a fresh, new talent isn’t introduced to the musical community to fix the crisis that I’m facing, I fear that I’ll have to go through life with only the terrible music on the radio to frighten my sense of hearing.

Day 7: The Future

            No, I’m not referring to the future in the robots and rocket ships sense. I’m talking about a week, a month, or a year. Nobody can plan for what lies ahead, so when it comes I feel vulnerable and confused. I worry all the time about what my life will be like after I’m not with my closest friends every day. What will life be like without Hunter to take part in my jokes and to hog the spotlight? How will I live when Ty isn’t complaining about a test he got an A on? Can I function without Jessie’s constant “forever alone” quotes or the look on Michael’s face when we are the only people to find humor in science class? Right now, my honest answer is no.  My friends are what makes me who I am. Here’s a secret, I’m never truly original. Whenever I do anything, I find myself channeling one of the people I rely on. I can be expressive, like Alessandra. I can be wise like Wooyoung.  I can try to be athletic like Cleo or to have dance moves like Chris (but that’s not happening).  I strive to let my good qualities shine, and I attribute all of them to the people who helped form my identity.

            What ticks me off about parting with my NFS friends is that I won’t really be whole. Sure, I’ll still have an occasional movie night, and we might meet up in Newtown every once and a while, but things will never truly be the same. I’ve always known that someday I would have to leave my friends, but as Graduation draws nearer, I begin to worry more about how my own identity can remain intact if those who made it are gone. The future is a scary thing, because no one can surely predict what will happen. All any of us can do is hold on tight and prepare for the ride.

Day #6: My Late Hogwarts Acceptance Letter

                For such a wonderful and magical school, you’d think Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would have its priorities sorted out. You see, 3 years ago on my eleventh birthday, I waited next to my mail box, anxiously anticipating the owl that would certainly swoop down from the sky and deliver my Hogwarts acceptance letter. To this day, that owl has never arrived. I have put an exhaustive amount of effort into writing Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and inquiring as to the tardiness of my owl, but for obvious reasons the address of Hogwarts is undisclosed to the public. People tell me to give up and to accept life as a mere muggle. Ha! What a novel concept! Can you tell a painter not to paint? Can you prevent a bird from flying? As a wizard, it is my purpose in life to improve the world with my magic. I have been unable to refine my magical gifts for years, all the while dreaming of the day when I’ll be able to amaze the professors who have any sense.  But today, my dreams become reality. I am currently seated across from none other than the most amazing, gifted, brave, beautiful, flamboyantly gay wizard in all of existence. Dear readers, please welcome Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore.

Dumbledore: It’s great to be here.

Me: So Albus, let me cut to the chase, where IS that acceptance letter?

Dumbledore: Well my boy, in the beginning of every school year we send out owls to all of the children that possess magical abilities. Because you are clearly destined to be the greatest wizard of our age, I ordered Professor McGonagall to send your message first. Unfortunately, the owl carrying your letter was blind, and he subsequently flew into a jet engine. Ever since then, we’ve had PETA bothering the school with an infinite amount of mail entitled “YOU NEED TO TREAT ANIMALS ETHICALLY!” and “THAT IS INHUMANE!” Anyway, we’ve just been really busy.

Me: Well, has it occurred to you to use regular mail? Or send me a Facebook message? I’m pretty sure you could put the money you use to feed hundreds of owls to better use, such as performing background checks on all the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Let’s face it, if you had done background checks on your teachers, Voldemort wouldn’t have entered Hogwarts on the back of Professor Quirrell’s head.

Dumbledore: That’s a valid point, you’re going to fit in at your new school, Ben.

Me: Well, I can’t contain my excitement! Thank you so much! That’s all the time we have left today, thank you for reading Things That Make Me Tick…ed Off!  By the way, Snape kills you in a couple of years, take my word for it, I read the books.

Day #5: That Guy Who Takes Forever To Order Food When I'm Behind Him In A Line

            “Welcome to McDonald’s, what can I get you?” says the visibly bored, underpaid woman behind the counter. “Umm,” begins the large, middle-aged, balding man who smells of old fish. He slowly looks over the menu, reading the possibilities aloud. “I could have a cheeseburger…But a hotdog would be really tasty right now, then again, I’m in the mood for some chicken…” For minutes, he contemplates, leaving agitated customers waiting behind him, wondering if they should’ve eaten elsewhere. “Aww, what the hell, I’ll have the cheeseburger,” he finally says. By this point, half a dozen people cheer and get on with their lives.

            Don’t you hate people who take forever in lines? I find waiting stressful enough anyway, and people who want to waste my time really get on my nerves. Wherever I go, whether it’s the movies, a restaurant, or the local grocery store, it always seems like some form of the person that I described earlier is in front of me, taking their time. These people are really inconsiderate, and they act as if the rest of the line has nowhere else to be, and as if they’re more important than all of the poor souls stuck behind them. If I ruled the world, I would force these abominations to wait in a single line for all eternity, so as to make them learn the error of their ways.

 

Day #3: My Own Insecurities

They live in the outskirts of our minds, feeding off of negative emotions and experiences. Insecurities. Everybody has them, and I find myself in a constant struggle with mine daily. Let me tell you a story. I have never really been in a relationship, that is, excluding a pitiful failure in fifth grade. I was an awkward child, and my actions years ago have been my only real experience with girls in that sense. Anyway, because I was so awkward and unknowing, I quickly found ways to make a fool of myself and define myself as un-romantic. Because of what happened, every time that I find myself in a situation with potential for romance, I am visited by ghosts from my past, reminding me that I’m only going to screw things up again. The whole thing is sort of like the polar opposite of that fat-free yogurt commercial where the lady eats healthily once, and then is able to continue eating right, exercising, and being happy. Because I let myself be defined as un-romantic, I view myself in a way that is according to that. You can ask any of my friends, I become extremely uncomfortable around girls I don’t know. The only reason that so many of my closest friends are girls is because I’ve known them for years. To be honest, this is one of my biggest fears about going to a public school next year.

                As I said, I truly hate my own insecurities. My ongoing struggle is one to rival that of even Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader’s. My only advice regarding how not to let your insecurities control you is not to get hung up on the past. When my insecurities try to govern my actions, I remind myself that I’m not the same person I was when I was labeled. Also, I’ve noticed that I’m close to opportunity whenever my insecurities are the loudest and most apparent. I just need to remind myself that the sole purpose of my insecurities’ existence is to keep me from doing what I can, and that it is within my power to rise above them.

Day #2: People Who Believe in Karma

                        

I don’t believe in karma. I never have, and frankly, I doubt that I ever will. My friend Ty will tell you that karma exists, and that it affects our lives on a daily basis. According to people who are Buddhists or Hindus, Karma is the total effect of a person's actions and conduct during the successive phases of the person's existence, regarded as determining the person's destiny. In simpler terms, if you do something bad, something bad will happen to you. Long ago, this meant that if you lie, cheat, and steal during your lifetime, you will be re-born as a goat in Darfur. Alternatively, if you are kind and generous, you might be reincarnated as a wealthy prince. Nowadays, if someone were to mention karma, the first thing to come to mind would most likely be on a smaller scale. For example, if you acted like a complete jerk to all your friends, your girlfriend is going to end up breaking up with you. People like Ty would argue that karma controls all of our lives, and that free will isn’t a factor in the grand scheme of the universe.

As I said earlier, I believe that karma is non-existent. People can waste their entire lives by assigning the blame for the misfortunes that befall them elsewhere. If I was to trip while walking down the hallway, I could view it as punishment for yelling at my brother, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. Instead of eagerly looking for reasons not to accept accountability for my own bad luck, I could pay more attention to where I’m walking. Let’s face it, bad things WILL happen to you, and it is always easy to transfer the responsibility of coping with your decisions.  Any bad situation that occurs in life could be seen as an instance for fretting about the past, or as an opportunity to learn from your mistakes and prepare yourself for the future.

Day #1: People Who Tell Me Who I Am and What To Do

Everyone knows what I’m talking about. There’s probably at least one person in your life with a holier-than-thou attitude and a desire to tell you how to improve your life. “Oh… you’re going to the public school…Did you really consider your other options?  You’d make such a good fit elsewhere.” Or, “Listen, I’m in a really successful relationship, and you and this girl would be perfect for each other!”  Has it occurred to you that I probably understand my situation better than you do? So I need to go to a private school? Is it unreasonable to believe that I’ve already spent a lot of time weighing my options and deciding what’s best for me? And I have to be with this girl? Thank you, I’ll take over my love life from here. These people interject their thoughts as to how I need to better myself constantly, and nearly always have no idea what they’re talking about. I honestly don’t care about what people want me to do in order to better fit the description of my life that they have planned out for me.

Another social aggravation of mine is the less subtle act of labeling. See that boy eating lunch with the girls? He’s probably gay. The kid sitting alone? He’s a socially awkward freak. The person reading a book during lunch? What a nerd. If you hold this viewpoint, prepare to be amazed. The boy sitting with the girls is one of the most charismatic (and least likely to be homosexual) people I know. The kid sitting alone is new to the school, and is one of my newest friends. The nerd reading a book during lunch is on the basketball team, and is probably going to win the Nobel Peace Prize someday. If you had just merely judged these actual people by first sight, you would never have gotten to know the really cool people that they actually are. I’ve been labeled as that kid who tells jokes and does stupid stuff. What happens when I don’t want to be funny, or act out? People often come up to me and ask if I’m depressed, because I’m not amusing them at the time. The truth is that I just want to take a break from being the person who I’m made out to be. Without the pressure of having to be BEN HEINTZ: FUNNY GUY, I can be BEN HEINTZ: MULTI-FACETED INDIVIDUAL. My friends and I have known each other for 8 years more or less, and if we all took the opportunity to wipe away preconceived stereotypes for one another, we can begin to see each other, and ourselves, for who we really are.