This kind of mindset is really unhealthy

Since middle school, my dad has always wanted me to get straight A's. For one reason or another, there's always been one class that prevents me from getting it. In 6th and 7th grade, I got a B one semester, but it did nothing to affect the year's straight A's. In high school, it was math. Every single year. I'm not a hard science kind of person and I accepted this in high school. 

But my dad didn't. He always asked me why I didn't get straight A's. Did I go to the teacher? Did I study enough? It must be your computer, he said, that's why you're failing. Note: to my dad, 'failing' is a C. Possibly a B, depending on the other class grades. He always, always wanted me to get straight A's and would compare me to my younger brothers (the youngest was in elementary and middle school throughout my high school career). How come I couldn't get straight A's like them? It was such a stupid thing for him to do. Compare me to my brothers who were in middle school? Middle school classes are so different from high school classes.

My dad didn't understand why I didn't do well in math. He told me to study harder. ask my teachers for help. There's a problem when the teacher wants you to know what you're asking help for. As a result, I never, ever asked my math teachers (the two I had in three years) for help. They always wanted me to know the concept I was asking for clarification about. My dad didn't get me math help until the end of third quarter. That wasn't enough time to fix my grade, and so it remained at a B. Or was it a C? I don't remember. In my mind, they were equally bad. I wasn't doing well enough to show my dad I was an outstanding individual. I acted like getting one 'failing' grade out of eight wasn't bad. In my mind, though, that 'failing' C or B meant fewer scholarships. I could get into a good college, sure. My GPA was still high enough for that. But my GPA wasn't high enough for scholarships. I would be 'average.' I wasn't good enough- again. 

So when I got the scholarship for full tuition, I was proud of myself. Partially because I, for once, got a high enough GPA for something. My dad, too, was thrilled. But then the thoughts came back again. I only got this scholarship because someone else must've withdrawn. I got lucky. That was coming from just me. Then he talked about it with other people. He always said we were blessed and he thanked God, and most of the people he talked to said, "God is blessing you, Jess."

God? Not me? One of the proudest moments of my life was credited to someone that wasn't me? I was crushed. I knew they meant well, but it crushed me. My hard work meant nothing.

Fast forward to college. Here I am, trying to write a paper worth 25% of my grade, and I'm feeling like crap.  This essay won't be organized, it won't make sense. That old mindset from high school is back. My GPA is me. If my grade plummets because I screwed  up this essay, my GPA plummets. I failed again. My GPA is me and it defines me. It's all I have to make me stand out, and it's pitiful. I'm terrified of a bad GPA because if it's .2 points near a 4.0, I think I'm failing at everything. I'm letting everyone down. I won't be anything. 

I am fully aware that a GPA does not mean anything in the real world. We did good in school, yes. Now can we do well in the real world where a GPA doesn't matter? The problem is everyone puts such an unhealthy emphasis on GPA when it means nothing in the real world. I'm fully aware of this, yet I'm still in the mindset my dad put me into when I was in middle school. If I don't have a good GPA, I can't accomplish anything. It's so hard to break out of, and I'm scared of remaining with this 'everything must be perfect' mindset until I graduate. I'll break down, I'm almost sure of it. I'm breaking down now. What do I do? That GPA means everything at this point. I don't want to get a B or C again. I'll fail.

Cake Pops!

Yesterday was Mariko's birthday, and I decided to give cake pops a try. After some extensive research, I decided I knew what to do.

I was so, so wrong.

One out of every three cake pops fell apart. I burned the chocolate in the microwave (I think the microwave is having an identity crisis). And there was just too much cake mix for me to make everything into cake pops.

These came out pretty, though.

I've decided I'm never doing cake pops again unless I've got help, a double boiler, or one of those cake pop makers. I'm admitting defeat with that last admission. I really want to make cake pops by hand, but this just takes too long and it's too messy. It irritated me towards the end. There were four boxes of cake mix Mariko picked out and I only made one and a half. The rest became pre-cake pop cake that I've invited people to eat. Everyone loves those, which is great.

And the cake pops (that came out well) taste good. A friend of Susanna's said they were the best cake pops she's ever had. Surprising, considering I had no idea what I was doing. Still, I'm glad some people like my cake pops. I may try again when I have considerably more patience (and less cake mix). 

Pasta with Homemade Tomato Sauce

Today was such a good day! I didn't have to go to class today, so I sat home until I had to go meet my student for tutoring. Did I mention it snowed today? So I got to spend the majority of my time sitting in the snow and freezing my butt off. Once I got back to the dorm, I ended up sitting in the room refusing to move. I made myself some egg drop soup. It ended up tasting pretty bland, so I had to pour more soy sauce in it. Time to make some changes to that recipe...

A little while ago, I made some pasta using this recipe. I made some changes to it. I had my own tomato sauce hanging around, and I added mushrooms. That's pretty much all of the changes. My sauce had cinnamon, basil, and  in it, so it's tastes much different that using, say, Ragu. Maybe I'll post that sauce recipe up sometime. It was something I did on the fly.

Pasta with Homemade Tomato Sauce

Ingredients

• 1 (16 ounce) package bowtie pasta 
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1/4 large yellow onion, chopped
• 1/2 green bell pepper, chopped
• 1 pound ground pork
• 2 cups homemade sauce OR 1 (16 ounce) jar spaghetti sauce
• 1 cup sour cream
• 2 mushrooms

Directions

1. Chop green pepper and onions and slice mushrooms. Place into a small bowl.

2. Bring a large pot of hot, lightly salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook until done al dente; drain and set aside. 

3. Melt better in a large skillet over medium heat. Saute onion, bell pepper, and mushrooms until onions and bell peppers are soft, about 5-6 minutes. Add ground pork and cook until evenly brown. Drain excess fat. 

4. In a large pot, heat spaghetti sauce until bubbling. Stir in pork mixture, pasta, and sour cream. Cook until heated through, about 5 minutes. 

Just a warning, if you don't use a large enough pot, pouring everything in will be messy. That silver pot I used wasn't large enough to accommodate everything, and some of it spilled out. Enjoy your pasta!

Election Night

I believe every vote counts, because upsets can happen. I wish I could prove with facts that every vote does count. But unless you live in a swing state, you know your state will vote one party or the other without fail. For example, Utah. Utah will be red no matter what. But in a swing state, that color isn't set. Everyone voting can make the difference.

I'm not a fan of election years. Even in high school, when election year came around, chain letters went around saying, "Put a tally next to who you support and pass it on!" It never went past me. Every single chain letter was promptly deleted. This year, I was excited to vote. But my dad kept ruining the excitement I felt for being able to vote for the first time ever. He's tried everything to get me to not vote in Nevada, a swing state. He told me to take my driver's license test right after I arrived in Utah and register while I was at it. He knew my vote wouldn't matter, because Utah is red no matter what. If I voted Romney, I voted the exact same way Utah was expected to win. If I voted Obama, my vote wouldn't matter because Utah would be red anyway. When we discovered I had to wait two months before getting my license, I said I wouldn't take my driver's test until after the election. My dad then tried to say, "How about you just don't vote this election? Just sit this one out and watch how it goes.

I am mad at him for trying to keep me from voting in Nevada. In Nevada and other swing states, voting counts. I am aware of the elections and how important this is. I'm also very aware of what ridiculous things come about as a result of the election. The fact my dad and I are voting for different candidates already sets me up for some trouble with my dad. He called everyone who was going to vote for my candidate "ignorant," but then tried to make me feel better by saying, "But I still love you."

That doesn't make me feel loved, Dad. It made me feel like you're calling me ignorant because I'm voting for someone you don't approve of. Because we both have different things we want out of the future POTUS and your candidate has a history of not supporting what I believe to be important. I did my research. I'm not ignorant. And I'm voting for someone that most fits my stance.

Nate told me nearly the same thing happened to him. His mom called him a "traitor" for voting for who he wanted (opposite candidate of hers), but he couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Maybe the uncertainty of not knowing is better. I know for a fact my dad was serious when he said everyone voting for my candidate was ignorant. Recently, he said the party of the candidate I'm voting for votes only by looking for the little letter next to their name. When I tried to tell him his candidate's voters do it, too, he refused to believe me and said, "No, it's your candidate's party."

In my honest opinion, both parties are going to have voters who'll vote for a candidate because of the little 'R' or 'D' next to their name. We all know there are people in the deep South who'll vote for Romney because he's a Republican, or that people in New York and California will vote for Obama because he's a Democrat. These people exist all over the country. In fact, these people make up the highest group of political voters. Those who will blindly vote. Ideologues, which I consider myself to be, make up the smallest group.

Basically, what I'm saying is that I don't like this election year. I feel like my dad dislikes me and looks down on me because I'm voting for the candidate he doesn't like. I don't like talking politics in my family. I don't like talking politics among my friends. I don't like those people who believe that their vote doesn't count and thus don't go out to vote, because these people will eventually complain about the POTUS. If you didn't vote, you should shut up and accept it because you didn't try to use your one vote to vote for the candidate you wanted. To quote my US government teacher and my AP English teacher, "If you didn't vote, SHUT UP and stop complaining because you didn't vote."

It's probably too late for this year, but four years from now, and in any election, vote. 

We're a democracy. One person, one vote. Now use that vote to push for change.

Thinking about my future again

For my City as Text class, we went on a walk around the Normandie Heights AKA Harvard Yale neighborhood. My group decided to go back there after the Miller Bird Refuge excursion because we really loved the houses around it. My reason for going back was to look at the houses. In another post, I posted some pictures of the houses in the general area. Brick houses are something I'm fond of. New England brick houses are even better. I found some spectacular looking houses.

Looking at these houses got me thinking about my future again. I'm usually not one to fantasize about my future in too much detail because I'd rather not be disappointed when my future does happen and it's not what I imagined. But this neighborhood... It's someplace I'd like to live. Maybe not right away, but it's something to work up to. I see my future going a little bit like I'm living in an apartment initially, because that's all I can afford. Work, pay rent, and be happy in my own little apartment. Someone moves in with me, helps pay for rent, and we exist peacefully in that little apartment. Then I get married. I probably won't move from apartment dwellings right away. But then future husband and I get dogs. A Corgi and a Golden Retriever, and we need our own house with a backyard and plenty of running space for the dogs. I can start to garden. I've always wanted to garden. Grow my own and eat fresh veggies. Anyway, start off in a small house. Or maybe I'll get one of those big houses right away, so then I won't have to move and leave my garden behind. And when I have kids, we'll live in a nice house already.

I've spent more and more time recently thinking about my future. And I don't mind this at all. It makes me feel more secure. Makes me feel like I have something to look forward to. Best thing? I do.

Yarn Dyeing Tutorial

Today, I dyed yarn in my apartment! I felt like today would be a perfect day, because none of my roommates happened to be in the room today, but two of them came in over the course of the dyeing. One of them came in while the yarn was soaking in vinegar and heating up, and she thought it was spaghetti.

Spaghetti??

So here's the way I dyed my yarn in my college apartment kitchen!

You need:

• Animal fiber yarn (I used KnitPicks Bare Stroll Fingering Sock Yarn- at least 75% animal fiber is best when attempting to dye yarn)
• Vinegar (I guess at this.)
• White cotton yarn to tie the animal fiber yarn
• Kool-Aid in your choice of color (I chose to use Pink Lemonade and Lemonade)
• A large pot
• A spoon that lets you pick up the yarn
• A large bowl
• A large cup. The ones you get from sports games are the best.

First thing first: if the yarn isn't already in a hank, you have to wrap it up! I used two chairs in my room. The KnitPicks yarn already came in a hank, but I wanted long stripes, so I rewound it to be longer. This takes a long time if the yarn tangles up. I learned that the hard way... Every few inches, take a string of cotton yarn and wrap it around the yarn. Don't wrap or tie it too tightly, or you'll end up with a white line where the tie was. Unless you want that line there. Your choice.

It should look something like this! See where the white ties are? 

Next, I filled a pot with hot water from the sink and poured in the vinegar. The vinegar is to make the Kool-Aid stick to the yarn quicker. Feel free to go without it, but I always use vinegar. Then squish the yarn into the pot, making sure it doesn't overflow. Turn your stove to medium-low (about a 4 on my stove) and let the yarn soak and heat up for about 45 minutes. 

When the 45 minutes is almost up, prepare your Kool-Aid! I used Lemonade first. I took a cup and filled it with warm water. Whatever you do, do not put cold water into that cup. Because your yarn is 1) hot from the stove and 2) animal fiber, anything cold may shock the fibers and cause them to felt. It hasn't happened to me yet, but you really want to have the water in the cup as close to the temperature in the pot. Decide how much water to Kool-Aid you want. I used a larger cup, so I filled it up about 3/4ths of the way and mixed a packet of Kool-Aid into that. Every time you want to add a color, 3/4ths of the cup and one packet. That's my ratio.

Now take about half the yarn hank out of the pot and place it in the large bowl. Don't leave it hanging, or there will be a huge puddle everywhere. That's a pain to clean up. 

I poured in two cupfuls of Lemonade Kool-Aid and let that soak for 30-45 minutes. You'll know the yarn's soaked up all the Kool-Aid when you scoop up some water with your spoon and it comes out clear. Pour in more, if you wish. To get the yellow color, I used 6 packets of Lemonade. Lemonade produces a really weak yellow, so I always use more than I usually do in order to get a nice vibrant color.

I usually pour in the dye two cups at a time. Every time there's to be new color, I turn the yarn over so that the color gets to the yarn that may have been at the bottom before. It provides a nice even color.

Now that yellow is done, I pick up the yarn using my trusty spoon and put it into the blue bowl with the as of yet undyed yarn. Pour out the water, because it will have inevitably been sucked into it. Now take out the undyed section and put that into the water, making sure not to burn yourself. Make sure you get to where the lemonade color starts; otherwise, there's an awkward gap of undyed yarn. Now pour in the 2 cupfuls of Pink Lemonade and let that soak for 30-45 minutes. Pink is much more powerful, so if you don't want such an intense pink, don't put in so much! I used 4 packets of Pink Lemonade.

Kind of reminds you of Easter, doesn't it?

When the yarn is where you want it to be, take it out and put it into the bowl. Leave it to cool down for a little, because it will be really hot, and you need to be able to handle it for the next part. Is it cool? Good! Take it under the sink (making sure the water temperature isn't too extreme) and wash your yarn. Then try to squeeze out all the water you can, because you need to put it somewhere to dry. You don't want it dripping a lot, do you? It will drip a bit, but now that you've squeezed out excess water, you're good.

Ideally, hanging it up outside would be best, but since it's becoming cold, the yarn won't dry as quickly. My bathroom is the best bet for this guy. When it's done drying, wind it up into a hank. I used the handles on my desk to produce a small, fat hank of pink yellow yarn. I've always been in the habit of using my desk. Nice to see I can use it here too. 

I've nicknamed this one 'Lemonade' because of the Kool-Aid colors I used. Not very creative, I know. 

While I was dyeing the yarn, another roommate stared at it for a few minutes while she was eating. Finally, she asked me, "How come you don't just buy yellow yarn?"

"It's not as fun that way," I said, and it really isn't. Dyeing yarn gives you the power to create whatever color yarn you want. It lets you control everything! It's a very relaxing pursuit minus the winding up of things. That still manages to irritate me at times.

And here it is! My method of using a pot to dye yarn in! I've seen this used with a microwaveable casserole dish, too. I don't have a casserole dish to try this method with, but feel free to give it a shot, using what you know.

ESLC orientation training complete!

Back in September, when I was wandering the job fair, I came across a booth. "ESLC," it said, stating that its goal was to teach English to refugees in Salt Lake County. I talked to the woman there for a bit, picked up a flyer, and signed up for it. I paid the $45 fee after sitting down and talking it through with my parents. They said it was my choice how to spend my money, and if I wanted to pay the $45 for this, I could.

Well, $45 is a lot of money for a student with no job and trying to live off of what allowance is allotted to her. I decided to take the plunge. ESLC asked for a minimum of 100 hours commitment, approximately 6 months. The woman told me that after those 100 hours, they could write me a recommendation letter for the JET program. That's what I want to do after college. One hundred hours for a program I'm not even going to go on for another three years? Forty-five dollars for a letter?

That better be a damn good letter, I thought, and decided to make the commitment to stay with the ESLC all 4 years. It's my personal commitment, and it'll help me for what I want to do with my life.

Last Saturday and today I attended the orientation, and it was brutal. Their usual orientations were on Tuesday and Thursday, 3 hours long, for 2 weeks. I can't make Tuesday and Thursday because of classes. So I signed up for the Saturday orientation. I learned that meant 7 hours at the ESLC center from 9-4, learning as much as I could about teaching English to emergent speakers. I learned about the various methods I could use, what levels the students may be at, and what I could anticipate. I learned that lesson planning stresses me out, but that it should get better with time. I learned that despite the fact I'm very much a one-on-one person, I can't do one-on-one because I'm not comfortable going into someone else's home. I learned helping others gain their US citizenship, or teaching in a small group, is something I can do. I learned that the people at the ESLC are there to help, and they're willing to accommodate.

All of that, during a 12 hour orientation held over two days, I learned.

I found out that I didn't stress out over learning all of this. Usually, when I learn a lot of information without having time to digest, I started freaking out. How would I organize myself? Am I going to remember this knowledge? The fact I didn't majorly stress out may mean that I am actually dedicated enough to calm myself down.

At the end of the orientation, it was an immense feeling of relief to not have to go anymore. It was also a relief to get the cheesy little certificate for finishing the training. I am now able to teach English to refugees as a volunteer with the ESLC. I'm taking a step in the right direction. I can rest knowing that I am helping myself  grow right now and I'm setting myself up for my future. This piece of paper is cheesy and is probably insignificant to most other people, but to me, this is a piece of paper with a lot of meaning. I'm going somewhere.