Wednesday, June 22, 2011

It's a Sign. Part One.

Alright, so have you ever seen a sign on the street that you just HAVE to take a picture of? Some crazy phrase or horrific misspelling that you simply must show someone? Welcome to my everyday life. It's quite sad how easy it was to compile all the pictures I have of signs that make me laugh. So, I decided that instead of storing all these pictures on my iPhone and occasionally flipping through, stumbling upon one, and laughing, I should probably make use of them. Ergo: SummerSalt viewing pleasure. You're welcome. So the first part of the series (dunno how long it will be yet), is from my journey to Hong Kong over Christmas break to go visit my family. Enjoy.
After my first groggy and un-time adjusted night in Hong Kong (11 hours time difference), this was the first thing I saw on the street. Classic. Wait, I changed my mind. Actually the first thing I saw was waking up and looking out my window down to a whole pig being butchered on the sidewalk. No worries, they later hosed the cement. Completely sanitary. Ha.


Me and my mama, trying to avoid being hit by a bus by Deep Water Bay. We later realized it would probably make more sense for us to have switched places. 

Turtles protesting. Total win.

What frequently scares me about these kinds of signs, is that they're put there because someone did that once before.

Use your imagination. I'd hate to ruin this by explaining it.

If you've ever heard that in China, you have to.... ya know, in a hole... that's not a joke. This is the sign on the outside of the toilet.



Of course you have options, there's usually one sitter. 
Actually outside of our apartment. Made coming home feel very welcoming. Who doesn't like to be greeted by a cyclops cephalopod?
Again, not ruining this one.


Eat in total? Customer right reason? So many reasons this is a fabulous sign. P.S., we do not chow down on 84 dollars worth of BK, nor do we endorse the establishment, but it was our only option quick enough on top of the mountain to see the light show down below in the city. In American dollars, this is around 10 bucks.

Keep in mind, this is in Hong Kong.

Outside of my godbrother's door <3

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Grunden Quotable Quotes:


Okay you guys, I am like legit hyperventilating with enthusiasm right now. I’ve wanted to post this pretty much since the day I was born. I introduce to you, probably one of the greatest people alive (don’t let that go to your head), ERIC GRUNDEN. Insert round of applause.
            So for the unfortunate number of you who have never had the immense pleasure of meeting Mr. Grunden, I’d like to intro a bit about him. First: he’s an oober Harry Potter nerd. This is fitting because, as my friend Bryn discovered, he and the famous wizard look very much alike… in cookie form.

He’s also totally into Jeopardy, and Phineas and Ferb, and he pretty much knows everything about everything. I’m almost positive he has the ability to read minds. Or possibly he might be Einstein reincarnated. Or both. Could Einstein read minds?
Anyway, the most important fact about the remarkable Mr. G is this: his multitude of quotable quotes.
Note: I messaged Mr. Grunden asking if posting these magnificent beauties would be alright with him, and yes, it is, HOWEVER, he reserves complete and total rights to deny anything posted here. I’m spacey, so I very likely could have possibly picked and chose words he said in a stream of sentences and fused them together for entertainment.
So I kept these in my notebook all year (seriously, I have 3 pages entirely taken up plus margin space), and when I started studying for my final, I ended up just reading all of the quotations scrawled in there and cracking up. So for your viewing pleasure: Mr. Grunden Quotable Quotes.

·      First day of school: Games. I hate games.
·      I have mice living in both my cars.
·      Me: Mr. G, what were you like as a child?
    Mr. G: This. But smaller.
    Me: That’s very frightening.
·      Kill all the rules and eat them!
·      Mr. G: Acids conduct electricity.
Alexandra: So can your puke conduct electricity…?
Mr. G: I’ve never tried it.
Me: Can we do a lab?
Mr. G: Oh sure! Write your procedure, first step: gestures finger going into throat. That’d be the last lab I’d ever do.
·      We’re going to be running an observation of gases. Just like we would go to a jungle to watch chimpanzees. Except there’s a lot less delousing I’ll tell you that.
·      There’s really no danger in anything bad happening tomorrow- well except fires. And minor explosions. But you’d have to work pretty hard to make that happen.
·      And he’s killed because people think he’s Jesus…. But he’s not.
·      How many Cheez-Its are you?
·      To be honest, my math teacher was an alcoholic, so I had to teach myself math most people don’t believe in.
·      Mr. G: Stoichiometry is like weighing baby elephants.
Me: Um… what?
Mr. G: You have to weigh the baby elephant and the mama elephant then take the baby off and subtract the difference. Baby elephants are hard to weigh, or so I’ve been told.
·      Are you polar? Let me ask you this question: when you take a shower do you dissolve? No, that would be a problem. Someone tries it once and we learn from his or her mistake.
·      All rock songs are about one of three things.
One: Substance abuse
Two: Impressing girls…. Or guys. Depending on who you are. Or both… Also depending on who you are.
Three: Being a B.A.
·      We’re about to electrocute a pickle. Don’t try this at home. It can kill you.
·      Yes Alexandra, you can make poop a mirror.
·      Well I’m not really talking about soap, but we’ll be talking about soap. So let’s talk about soap, but not really talk about soap at all.
·      If you have a knife does that make you a chef? No. But it might make you a ninja.
·      Zombies gathering around, pulling people out of a crowd and eating them. It’s kinda like that.
·      If you try to do that to your calculator it’ll curl up into the fetal position and cry. Except it can’t do that…
·      Thinking is what causes all the problems. So stop it.
·      The spectrum of bonding is similar to a spectrum of relationships between 2 people. At one end are people that are tolerant of each other. In the middle is a spread of degree of contentment. And at the other is a paired off couple.
·      So… don’t take a bath with a toaster.
·      Me: Now I really want some rotini.
Mr. G: That’s your 3rd alcohol reference today… do we need to talk?
Me: Rotini’s a pasta.
Mr. G: Oh. I thought you said martini.
·      No, that’s ninjas with flamethrowers. That’s my theory on spontaneous combustion.


And fourth period chemistry lived happily ever after. I learned so much this year in Eric Grunden's class. 

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Truth or Dare with a Dash of Salt

Ever wanted to know what it would be like to tell the truth all day, go from dawn to dusk without using the letter 's'? Ever had a question you're dying to ask me, whether it be about fact or opinion?
If you answered yes, then now is your chance! Mainly I'm just too lazy to think of new stuff to post this coming week-- but besides that, I want to hear what you want to read. Just comment here with something you want to ask (a truth) or something for me to try out for a whole day this coming week (dare). I'll write it up and/or document it and tell you about the dare, or give my total and complete truth on a subject. I'll pick my top 5 and that will be my posts for the coming week, Monday- Friday.
Ready, set, truth or dare.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Luminescence Everlasting

I climbed a fourteener today in Colorado, and as such, clearly I was unable to attend Mehdy Hazheer's service. At the peak however, I thought some words towards him. 
I wished that wherever he is now, it was as beautiful as the view from the very top of Mt. Evans, ( and less cold), because someone as awe-inspiring as Mehdy in life deserves an eternity of beauty. My other thoughts tended towards their normal route: poetic. Also they were extended more towards those who attended the service or who would have given anything to be there. 
Losing a son, a brother, a friend, a student, a cousin, etcetera, is the epitome of tragedy. I thought words towards those people, and I feel that it's a relevant fact to know in regards to this piece, that my entire life I have been called Sparrow. I wish I could have been there today, but I said my everlasting goodbyes from where I was. These are the words I would have spoken today at the service, had I been in attendance. 
With much love, Sparrow. 

Luminescence Everlasting

I think I saw a sparrow
Bathing in your flowing tears
She washed away her own griefs and sorrows
In warm and briney currents. 

I think I heard a sparrow
Crying the name you yourself called aloud
Falsetto and bass together
Painting most perfect harmony. 

I think I saw a sparrow
Nestling in your heaving chest
Seeking the shelter of human empathy
For she too has suffered losses. 

I think I heard a sparrow
Whispering towards your ear,
"Though the blackest vacant space
Left by lack of presence swells and grows
With threats to steal away
Every light you have ever known,
You are never alone."

And I think she may be right. 

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Life and Death According to a Teenage Buddhist Atheist

Warning: potentially controversial article ahead; proceed with caution!
I've described myself in that hybrid theological combination since I was in 6th grade. People would laugh and try to convince me that wasn't actually possible, and I would always tell them it really was, and who were they to tell me what religion I could or couldn't possibly believe anyway? Then today, in Denver, I was perusing The Tattered Cover bookstore and I found this book: Confessions of a Buddhist Atheist by Stephen Batchelor. So I say to those people now: HA. 
Anyway, I had this idea for an article when I got an email from one of my sophomore year teachers asking how I was holding up after recent events. 
I admitted that as a Buddhist Atheist, death can sometimes be a much more difficult concept to deal with because I DON'T believe in an afterlife. As much as I would like to think that when we die, our soul lives on in a higher place and we go on, I simply don't. The way I see it, when we die, we're gone, and that's it. The end; story over. 
He was curious about this of course, as many often are. So he asked about my opinions on life and death: do I think we have a purpose or meaning here on earth during our lives? Or is it all just noise? 
I had a lot of time to think about the subject as I explored Denver today. We rented bikes and pedaled to the botanical gardens. Nothing gives you more tranquility than walking around and seeing, feeling, touching flora. It was an ideal place to question myself on the matter. 
Here's what I came up with:
I think that in my case, in many ways, life has MORE meaning then. When your time is up, it's game over. No do-overs or afterlife in general, so we might as well live the best life we can while we're still living. That's not to say I don't believe in a purpose or moral code for following here on earth. We call that dharma. I do good not for a higher being, but for myself and everyone I know.
The closest I come to worship is mother earth. I think our duty is to do something that gives back, as opposed to taking and taking from precious energy and resources. I feel fortunate that we've been able to evolve on a planet so rare and able to sustain life, and though sometimes bad things happen (like a tornado taking half my house), it's a good life.
In the gardens today, there was a small girl throwing an absolute fit asking her mother if she could pick a flower- an iris I think it was- and her mother would have none of it. It made me think back to a previous time when I was that little girl, and my own mother said to me: "If everyone in the entire world came in here and picked a flower, there wouldn't be any left." At age 4, this was not a satisfactory answer. It was a preposterous explanation, it's impossible for EVERYONE in the world to come in and pick a flower. Duh, Mom.
 I came to realize I live by those words now. If everyone in the world left all their water running all day, there would be no water left. If everyone in the world was a murderer, there'd be only one person left. So I think that in order to retain a sense of morality, religion isn't absolutely essential, only common sense. 
I feel a lot of duty also because I don't feel like a god can help by my praying or wishing. If I want something done, I do it. I fix my own problems instead of asking a god I don't believe in to do so for me. Although I could pray for my house to be rebuilt soon, chances are that's not going to help anything. 
I see the appeal in religion, in regards to an all loving power, but I find so many flaws: science, corruption, hypocrisy, and the like. (I'm starting to sound like Siddhartha Gautama).
So that's my opinion on the matter. I understand completely if you disagree, but I implore you to please respect my religion as I do yours. Thanks. 

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Denvah

Greetings readers of SummerSalt, from gate C15 of RDU airport. It's a bright and shining (ha, not really) 6 in the morning and I'm awaiting my flight that will whisk me away to Denver.
I am currently packing 30 small slips of paper only slightly bigger than my index finger. Written on them is the SummerSalt slogan (Pass the salt?) and the website.
I got the idea from Jerry Spinelli's novel, Stargirl. The heroine of the story for whom the book is named after, drops change for people to come across. She loves the look of excitement a person has when he or she stumbles upon a serendipitous coin in an unexpected place.
How does this relate to slips of paper, you might ask. Well I'll tell you. These are, in a metaphorical sense,-pause- boarded plane. Greetings from seat 9A. So hopefully people will pick up these emblems I'll drop off in random places and maybe, just maybe, I'll make them smile.
Better go before a flight attendant yells at me.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Mehdy's Graduation Speech


*My apologies for the short removal of this post. 
This was the speech Mehdy would have given at graduation, had he been able to attend. What he was prepared to read to the graduating class was everything Mehdy Hazheer stood for, and it's saturated with the essence of imense love Mehdy had for his friends, his school, his family, the world, and God. I hope wherever he is now, he's seen the golden city. 

The Gardener

          Friends and family, brother and sisters, peers and faculty; I have the incredible honor
to come and speak to you on this remarkable day, a truly momentous occasion, on the matter of our seeming rite of passage into college and ultimately, independence. Before I start, I would like to thank my parents for being fabulous in so many different ways and for not having kicked me out of the house. I appreciate their wonderful kindness. Raleigh Charter, you’ve been amazing and  you have constructively challenged me to elevate myself, to appreciate diversity, and to serve others valiantly. And most of all, I would like to thank God, the Beloved for every good in our world. The mistakes have only been ours. So thank God for being...God.
            And so, we sit here, celebrating what will be a memorable moment of our lives, rejoicing that high school, that our initial years of education are finally over. We’re with our families and our friends; we are shedding some indelible tears on this inevitable movement towards tomorrow. And to describe this in one word, "Wow!" What a time we live in now. The thing is though, that if you listen closely enough, in the background, you, I...we can hear the spiritual gunfire. If we focus, between the cracks of our privileged lives, we can see an oncoming darkness that will try to cover and in a sense, suffocate the hopes and dreams, the passions and love of our youth, of our lives. This 'gunfire', this pervasive complacency, this widespread acceptable apathy, can become my downfall and the downfall of enriched students and people like you. The seeds of inspiration will have no possibility of surviving under this blanket of numbness that may come over us, penetrating our fertile hearts through various means, forcing us to succumb to a sense of mediocrity. Notice that in history, it's youth in general, that initiates revolutions, that topples dictatorships, that drives a society forward to further paradigm shifts. It was the sacrifices of youth in Tunisia that ignited the youth of Egypt into widespread social demonstrations. It was the heroic demands of youth in Egypt that inspired the oppressed youth in Bahrain and Syria to stand up against decades of corrupt tyranny. It was through the struggle of youth in the Middle East that the Libyan people woke up from their freakish nightmare and strived and are striving towards a golden future.

            That golden future is what we need to constantly be conscious of, struggling towards, and I want to relay to you today an experience of mine, a personal one and possibly a Life of Pi kind of story. I had once known a great man, a family man, a Godly man. His name was Ehsan. And Ehsan was a member of the community, and oddly enough, a part of me. I didn’t think much of him at the time, nor did I think he thought much of me. We were strangers to one another, but incredibly enough, we were mysteriously linked.
          And at some point in time--this is going to sound fuzzy and possibly silly--but at some point in time, Ehsan had a dream. And what a dream it was. Please don’t ask me how I came to know this dream, or how I became aware of it, what path I took to see it, because honestly, I don't know. This dream stupefied me, astonished me; it truly perplexed me. And it came, the words, the vision, it came to him, and I believe it came to me. In his dream, there was a golden city of human perfection, a spiritual utopia, one where the possibility of crime and corruption was present, but no one dared to lower themselves because they were conscious of their transcendent identities, their community, and their God. There were riches, wealth, but it was not of the material kind but rather of the spiritual and intellectual one. In this beautiful world, there was only a lower-case "I" to describe the self, and people strove to make their needs their only wants rather than all their wants their needs. And at the risk of this seeming very "radly hippie," it was a world of peace, love, and Unity. A world, to us, of  impossibility, foolishness, and pure fantasy.             As this dream progressed, Ehsan walked through the divine streets of gardens that blossomed life, on third avenue where the daffodils sung and were kissed by lips of the magnificent, cherished Sun. The city was full of men and women, children and elder, but there were only two categories of people who lived in this golden city: there were dancers who read and there were scholars who danced. Ehsan followed the trails where lovers bicycled their way through and found at the dead center of the massive Golden city was a humble hut with a small olive tree to the side. I watched, through Ehsan's eyes, as Ehsan carefully entered the hut with humility before the awesomeness of everything.
            And he found, or we found, in the center, on a mat, in meditation, a middle-aged woman, who seemed to emit an alluring light from a recent birth she had. Her name was Marium. She cordially invited us in, and gave us a seat on the patted mats that were against the sides of the hut. Ehsan stared for a while, unable to really grasp any of it, and she recognized, I mean she always seemed to know, that we were stuck. She then, with a smile, reached for her pouch, and from it, she took out a seed. She looked up at us, with a slightly different smile, one which saw opportunity, and she held that seed a foot away from her face, displaying it optimistically to us, and she said "The pensive light awaits awakening. Plant this seed in your spiritual ruins and let Atlantis come alive. Achieve Atlantis,  and then allow it to spread. Golden cities will grow into a Golden world and eventually into a Golden universe." And with that, all of it became a waterfall. A moment in evaporation. And all I know now is that I received a seed of inspiration and at same time, a new friend: Ehsan.
            That seed, I planted it, and Ehsan became the gardener. He was no longer an acquaintance, but rather, he was me. And I him. We were one. And he became the embodiment of my passion to enrich myself with the immense amount of opportunities available in my world. He was the one who, in order to nourish that seed, strived at Raleigh Charter these past four years. And his essence is not something unique to me, but rather, is found commonly within each of us. It's his essence that we continue to find enlightened within each of us at Raleigh Charter, and it is those inner, at least partial, enlightenments, that have empowered Raleigh Charter to achieve an environment where intellectual curiosity is fostered and encouraged by not only teachers and parents, but by students as well. And we will receive those seeds constantly from Marium, with her continual urgency regarding the need to transform our world into Atlantis, but we need to translate those seeds into Golden cities. Friends, classmates, be awakened and awaken others. Achieve your inner Ehsan. Thank you, and I hope you all have a wonderful day and eventually all of you will realize success.