There's this kid in my french class, and he's one of those people who only wants to make others laugh; which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  Today he was joking around, as always, and he was pretending be kind of weird and nerdy and doing this strange thing with his back pack so it was almost upside down.  Then he (Kid A) said , "What if I actually did that" some one else (Kid B) said, "You would probably get your back unzipped and be made fun of".

Kid A: Well, if I saw someone doing that, I would probably unzip their bag.
Me: Seriously? You would be a total asshole.
Kid A: No, it would be funny.
Me: Yeah but all his stuff would fall out and he'd be screwed and you'd be the complete asshole that did it to him.
Kid A: Exactly.  His stuff would fall out, and it would be funny.

I was shocked.  I mean, ths kid is a bit of a tool, but I always thought that he was still a nice guy.  Maybe I'm putting too much thought into this, but it worries me that he wants people to think he's funny so badly that he's willing to essentially bully and mock others.  
Plus, this kid is freaking huge.  Not many people would stand up to him (and stand a chance) especially not the kind of kid that he was imitating.

Pi ends at some point, no-one's found the last digit yet is all

I have trouble with the concept of infinity, or "never ending".  I don't understand how something can last, or go on, forever.

They say the universe is expanding, but where is it going?  We were always told that the universe was it, that it went on forever, so how does something that goes on forever expand?

Everything has to stop somewhere, and I want to know where that is.

Something Simpler than Human

War things really bother me.  I try not to let people know about the things that bother me, but anything that has to do with war automatically makes me crumple inside.  The thought of so many lives ruined makes me sick.  It terrifies me.  I almost never have a problem with violent movies and books, but war is the exception.  I can't even walk past a grave with a flag next to it or hear taps or sit through a Veteran's Day assembly at my school.  It's hard for me to understand what people go through.

You know the siege of Normandy that is depicted in Saving Private Ryan?
My great uncle was in that.  He watched people get shot down all around him, wading through the shallow surf and not know if what he's stepping is a school of fish, a pile of rocks, or one of his fellow soldiers.

My grandfather, the above uncle's brother, was in the US Army Air Force.  He was in a dog fight one night when his best friend was shot down.  He immediately went down to try and help him.  He found his best friend in pieces, literally.  He stayed with him, and tried to save him, tried to bring him back.  The next my grandfather put his hand in his pocket, and found the eyeball of his best friend inside.

I can't imagine what this does to someone.

I have trouble understanding how so many lives can be mercilessly sacrificed for something as petty as politics; it makes me want to be something much simper than human.

I wish I could write something beautiful.   Something that would change people's perspectives.  I wish there was enough power in my words that lives changed.  I wish I was more than a nerdy teenage girl who reads too much and consequently loves to write (poorly).  One day I will write something beautiful and powerful and altering.  One day the words that I carefully chose and choreographed into sentences and paragraphs and speeches and stories will be known around the world.  It will be a concerto of things to come, things that occurred, and and things that will never happen.  One day I'll write the complete history of the world into a few elegant paragraphs, whether that history is factual or not will be up to me.  One day my writing will be moving and contain meaning and morals.

But for now, my writing is just another paragraph, poorly written by a nerdy teenage girl.

I was at a catholic wedding recently, and there was an intercession for Jews.  Later on, my Dad, who is very atheist, said "Why just the Jews?  What about the Muslims and the Hindus and the Buddhists?"  In turn, my very Catholic mother said, "I think its because the Jews are supposed to share the same special covenant with god".  I said, "So, why does that exclude the Muslims?".  My mom couldn't reply.  "Out of those three religions, Islam is the only one that accepts the other two as legitimate religions".  So my mom took the terrorist approach.
 "Well... peaceful Muslims don't necessarily apologize for the acts of the extremists..."
"What does this have to do with the conversation, and why should they have to?"
My mom couldn't answer again, so I tried explaining to her the concept of jihad, or holy war.

"Well... peaceful Muslims don't necessarily apologize for the acts of the extremists..."


This bothered me so much.  There are different sects of Islam just like there is different sects of Christianity.  Why should a Suffi have to apologize for an extremist?  The two are essentially two different religions.  So many people think this way.  The second one sect of Islam apologizes for the independent actions of another, I want the Pope to apologize for Westboro Baptist and every other peaceful religious leader to apologize for the hate filled Christian churches.  It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it.  The sad part is, that it only sounds ridiculous when you're talking about Christianity, which is nothing more than pure racism and prejudice.

So, you want a public apology from a Muslim?
Then I want a public apology from the fucking Pope, and every other Christian leader.

Stop being an ass.

So this is Christmas, and what have you done? Another year over and a new one just begun.

There are so many things that people don't know about me.  Everyone thinks they know me, because I let them see what they want to see, learn what they want to learn.  What they don't know is how I actually feel or who I really am.  There are things that I don't admit to, not even to myself, things that I pretend don't happen or have an affect on me.  I've been creating this perpetual lie for so long that sometimes I forget that I'm not just MK.  I'm Mary Kate too.  I've used all my energy to build up an impenetrable wall and now I don't have the strength to force it to come tumbling down.  Yet, I still have a responsibility to myself, my real, original self, not the one that I created.