Killing Off Your Viewers

Dear TV Producers of my favorite shows,

How did you know that every American yearns to be depressed before the holiday season? That we secretly pray that we will have one more opportunity to bawl our eyes out before we have to put on a façade of being jolly at Aunt Marilyn’s house at Christmas. It takes real skill to have that kind of perception. It must be hard to be so knowledgeable.

We all know you have to go out with a bang before Christmas break to keep the viewers on their toes until the show’s return in January. Logically, your plan was to make them pull out a gallon of Cherry Garcia and furiously search Google for the best local therapist. The weight they’ll gain from all the ice cream will surely encourage them to plop their fat assses on the couch to watch another patient suffer complications in surgery on Grey’s. Let’s not forget the therapist, who will definitely suggest the viewer tune into see another life ruined from a blast on Gossip Girl.

Genius. You guys are so in tune with everything us viewers are thinking and feeling. I can’t even tell you. It’s like you have ESPN. Oh wait—they actually know how to keep their viewers coming back. I think I meant ESP. Was I implying you might not actually know what you’re doing? Hard to say. I mean, killing the innocent husband who everyone loves off of Grey’s Anatomy? Possibly killing off Chuck after he and Blair finally confessed they would only be happy with each other and made plans to spend the rest of their lives together on Gossip Girl? Killing off the man who was going to get sober with Amelia on “the Intervention” two-hour special of Private Practice? Possibly killing off the only reason I watch 90210, Liam? Killing off the best characters is a good thing? I guess you could say I’m confused. But since you’re so smart, you must have legitimate reasons behind killing them off….right?

You may have lost a viewer,

Or 1,234,383

But who’s counting?

Kill me off 90210. See how many teenage girls keep watching.

How can you break them up?

Or them? After they just confessed their love.

Good time to kill off her one shot at happiness.  

‘Twas a Chrismahanukkah to Remember

Let’s be real: It doesn’t get much better than Chrismahanukkah. The turkey. The ham. The brisket. Mashed potatoes. Potato latkes. It’s the life. The big fat, eat until you feel like you’re going to see the meals again and even the elastic on your sweatpants can’t stretch anymore, beautiful life. The whole day is bound to be one to remember. As my aunt said “On the eve of Kwanzaa, we celebrated Chirstmas and Hanukkah ‘Twas the night before Kwanzaa, when the Jews and the Christians celebrated Chrismahannukah.”


Some of the girls belted out Christmas carols as we played Rummikub, and the aspiring musical artist of the family, in all her nine years of wisdom, suggested we try out for the X-Factor. I said, “That would be great: three Jews, a half-Jew, and a Christian singing Christmas songs.” But that didn’t stop my Christian little step-sister and Jewish cousin from joining around the iPad in a beautiful duet of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.”


From the organized chaos of opening presents to the strange animal calls from the kids’ table at dinner, Christmanahnukkah didn’t have a dull moment. There was the occasional teasing, but how can Dad resist when Uncle Sean is wearing a Barney colored sweater. There was a brief appearance by an FBI agent (AKA my six-year-old cousin with new Hanukkah toys). There was even a brief flashback into the seventies with old family photos.


On my third meal in six hours, I was starting to feel sick. But looking around at the crazy loud mess I call family, I felt grateful. These moments are the ones you want to hug like a teddy bear for the rest of your life and never let go. At the time, you may feel like you want to run out of the house screaming with your hands cupped over your ears, pretending you don’t know these people. But these are the best moments. They itch. They burn. They hurt. Then you look back at the pictures and you can’t think about anything other than how hard you laughed when Dad told Uncle Sean “Barney called and he wanted his sweater back.” You can feel the rush of excitement in the last intense seconds of a Rummikub match. The sound of your cousins running around on a sugar high is your new favorite song. These are the moments that matter.


As I scan my living room filled with family, all of my stress is released. SAT. ACT. AP. Suddenly they’re just letters. And nothing else matters. 

                                       

Step-Sister (Left) Cousin (Right): Christmas Duet

Relying on Serendipity

I live my life through signs. They help me make sense of my thoughts and thus, help me figure out which path I should take. But what if signs aren’t always trustworthy? I mean take this one for instance; do risk and reward always fit hand in hand? If I decided to go to a keg party one weekend, I would be taking a risk. People usually think that this could be a pretty enjoyable night. But there are so many reasons that this doesn’t sound like a fun Saturday night for me. First off, I have no interest in ever drinking, so I would be surrounded by a bunch of drunken people, and what? I would be miserably bored and most likely disgusted. Secondly, if I decided that I was going to defy my own beliefs and drink I would fear getting caught. NHS poof! YES Advisory Board poof! College poof! Any chance at a good life poof! (Ok so maybe it is somewhat exaggeratory, but that is what is running through my head when I think about the negative consequences. I know where I want to go to college and that is why I’m working so hard to make sure I don’t screw it up.)

Friday night I hung out with two friends talking for what seemed like a lifetime between California Pizza Kitchen, H&M by the jewelry, and then sitting in my car for over an hour once we got back. While we were all exhausted (AP Compers are always drained by Friday night), this was probably one of the best Friday nights I have had all year. We talked about how we are the farthest thing from rebellious and we are so perfectly boring that we never take risks. The most rebellious part of the night was when I showed up at 11: 26 after I said I would be home before 11… after I texted my dad’s girlfriend at 10:56 to tell her I would be home in a little while we were just talking. Yeah, I’m pretty badass. But in all seriousness, I have never stepped out of line. I don’t challenge my parents because I like the trusting relationship we have and the freedom they give me because of trust. And there’s nothing wrong with being a good kid, but just once I wish I could color outside of the lines and not feel bad about it. 

Risks scare me. I think about every possible outcome because I tend to overanalyze my decisions. The negative possibilities are usually enough to turn me away from an idea. But I hate the fear. Most of eighth grade I could not talk to the boy who sat behind me in Spanish class. Looking back, I’m not that sad that I didn’t talk to him because I realized I have no idea what I ever saw in him. But every time I go to the Ridgedale Target, he happens to be working and even though I don’t have a crush on this kid anymore, I get awkward and lose my social skills. I don’t understand this because I have no trouble talking to guys anymore. But now the trouble is I still don’t take risks with guys. Maybe I’m old fashion, but I think a guy should ask a girl out. So when I found out that this year’s Winter Semi-formal was a Sadie’s and I have to attend because of NHS, I guess you could say I was less than thrilled. Friday night we talked about the dance, and we came to the conclusion going to the dance with each other would be awkward the Winter Semi-formal is more of a couple’s dance. This wouldn’t be a problem, if we weren’t all single…

So I guess it is time to veer of course. I am in no way planning to ask someone out; just because I want to take risk doesn’t mean I am going to ask a guy out. But even asking a guy to go to a dance as friends would be a risk to me. I’m still sitting at this sign trying to figure out which way to turn. But even though the dance is two months away, I can’t sit around waiting for a sign that will point me in the right direction. Taking a risk is about not knowing which way to go but running full force one way hoping that serendipity will lead you in the right direction.  

How To Write Good (And Other Wonderful Mistakes)

It’s Better If I Don’t Understand

"The Other Side" by Bruno Mars feat. Cee Lo Green and B.O.B.

Bruno Mars is fantastic. I love his music and this song is no exception. But there is one line in this song I can’t get out of my head, “It’s better if you don’t understand.” It’s not that this line is particularly catchy, or even that I like the sound of it. I think this line sticks with me because I relate it to my own life. This line makes me think of one of my friends my math buddy? I’m not really sure what to call him. See the thing is: we are polar opposites. I’m not really sure how we became whatever it is we are because of the fact that we are such different people. Basically it seems like pure coincidence because he was stuck in front of me on the first seating chart. But have you been read my blog title? I don’t believe in coincidence. At the same time, I don’t know if you could really call this accident fortunate.

While he’s a nice guy and all, sometimes I wonder why I met him. I know what you’re thinking, “Um, Tay… yeah it’s just math class. I wouldn’t exactly read into it.” But I think the people that have a significant impact on you come into your life for a reason. By significant impact I mean: friends, inspiring teachers, classmates that teach you something about life, or anybody else that has somewhat of a long-term effect on you. When you’re math buddy makes you think about more than how to solve rational functions, you start to wonder why you met this person. Well, at least I do this.

Bruno Mars starts out this song with “Truth of the matter is I’m complicated, you’re as straight as they come.” The way I relate this song to my situation is with my math buddy as the complicated one. By this, I mean he doesn’t make the same kind of choices as I do. I feel like I’m heading down a pretty straight path, and I have no idea what direction he’s going in. And it drives me crazy. He’s made me think about life and values. For the first time in my life, I’ve begun to realize how complicated people really can be. When he first told me what kind of choices he makes, I looked down on him. I thought he was stupid and foolish. But as the semester goes on, I’ve realized people aren’t just one way or another. The choices he makes don’t completely define him as a person the way I thought they did.

What drives me crazy is seeing a perfectly capable, smart person making stupid decisions. But what’s worse is as time goes on I get to know him better. Knowing someone’s being an idiot is a lot easier when you don’t anything about them. After spending my Saturday night at my friend Ashna’s watching House, I decided he reminds me of Gregory House. He may not be a vicodin popping, witty doctor, but he drives me crazy in just the same way as House drives Cuddy crazy. Dr. Cuddy is his boss and she is as Bruno Mars would say, “As straight as they come.” But House is always pushing her buttons. Here I was watching House, texting my comp buddy actual guy friend that I knew was off making good decisions, and laughing with Ashna until we almost cried. And I realized maybe it really is better that I don’t understand. While my math buddy is off doing who knows what, I was spending quality time with House and my actual friends. I like it better on this side.

An Unnatural Disaster

With a little luck and a garbage bag, you might be able to sort through the mess that is currently the Shiff’s counter. Fortunately, I can assure you we do not normally live like this. My dad’s girlfriend wouldn’t allow it. Our house is usually clean in ways that most people didn’t even know possible because we are expected to have it clean at all times. I was asked to clean my room for the first time since probably fifth grade when I didn’t put away some of clothes one time. Yeah, so you can imagine my surprise when I discovered our counter this morning. But it also tells me something: there was a series of odd events that led up to this unnatural disaster.

I don’t know about you, but my eye automatically goes to the red, open bag of skittles somehow sitting comfortably in the middle. Last night my family went to see the movie that received 4% on Rotten Tomatoes, Jack and Jill, with Adam Sandler x2. So I can imagine this is where the skittles came from, but who left them here? Well, seeing as my dad’s girlfriend is the cleanest of us, it’s not likely that it was her. And two nine-year-olds probably would have gotten a lot farther with them before they got caught. Thus, my dad is most likely the culprit. But finders keepers, losers weepers right? What a fortunate discovery.

And what about those tickets? What are they for? Well my guess is that these tickets aren’t sitting there by accident, seeing as they are getting used tonight. Since my dad’s girlfriend’s purse is sitting near them, she probably left them so that we don’t forget them for Jingle Ball tonight. And my keys aren’t much of discovery.  But I’m slightly curious as to why there is a book… I mean it’s sitting next to the coffee pot. And well, maybe I’m the only one who does this, but sometimes stuff spills. It seems like a careless place to leave such a fragile item. If I had to take a guess, Madelyn left it there. She is my dad’s girl friend’s daughter and a more than careless nine-year-old. She probably left it with no thought at all, as she wandered off to comb her American girl doll’s hair.

Most people might not see my counter as a regular gold mine. But considering everything there holds some kind of value to our family, I’d say these are pretty fortunate discoveries. Even if these items were left there by mere chance.