BlockTwo – Page 9 – Thornton Academy

January 27, 2019

DIY Chocolate

war battle middlage — Photo by Rene Asmussen on Pexels.com

It is with great inspiration and eagerness that I come to you today. In the past hour, I have constructed what I consider to be a beautiful monstrosity that must be shared with the world. That monstrosity, in all its glory and elegance, is known by a better name: chocolate.

In the past, I had previously discovered a recipe for self-crafted chocolate that satisfied me; but alas, this was during the time when that foul villain coconut oil was considered an angelic substance. When the secret of the oil’s 90% saturated fat content was released, the masses, in their innocent nievity, neglected this information; I among them. But with new-found maturity, have sought for a replacement fat that would aid my body, and today that search had ended. Avocados have been gifted to me, to which I show no reluctance.

So the avocado, dressed in its dark rode, made its presence known to me, for which I embrassed it with open palm. Its green flesh overpowered the vein-clogging properties of the coconut oil, and so made its way into the heavenly mix that is chocolate. Here are the components:

One whole avocado
Half a cup of cocoa powder
a capful of vanilla
4 tablespoons of honey (or more to your preference)

Call, by the mighty power of your lungs, the ingredients to you; draw them close, and let them know of your steadfastness. Then, in a fiery burst of betrayal, throw them all into the iron jaws of a food processor. The avocado should be the first to go for its thick body takes longest to be murdered into a fine pulp. Throw the rest in as a family, and spare no pity for your edible companions, as they were foolish enough to trust you. You may desolve the mixture currently in the hell that is your stomach, or you may store it in the machanical tundra for an hour to complete the solidifying process.

And that is how one makes chocolate, not from the meadows of your kindness, but through unhinged destruction. For chocolate is not for the faint of heart; if it is true that man is what man consumes, then I am dark and bitter, but with a hint of sweetness, for my small stature and chubby cheeks shall betray me to such an impression. But, dearest brothers and sisters, do not fear the darkness, for is will make you strong. The deep of the cocoa powder will fortify your heart for the trials and tribulations. For truely I say to you, the day shall come when the pillars of the earth crumble beneath your feet and death shall be your lover, but you shall mirthfully laugh, riding on the wings of heart health gifted to by your decadent creation. No longer shall your tears lie on the shoulders of friends. No longer shall the musings of young lads crumble your mind. You, being rooted and grounded in chocolate, shall be immortalized in all the ways of the spirit, for your heart shall be strong.

I recomend snacking on chocolate in between meals to boost your metabolism. It is also made vegan, for your health.

January 26, 2019January 26, 2019

Schooling Equality

Cole Paulin
Mrs. Durkee
AP Language and Composition
22 January 2019
As a Junior who is looking at many prestigious colleges, I have come across a problem that I believe has an easy solution. Colleges and high schools are using different methods of evaluating students, including varied GPA scales and different standardized tests. I believe that to be the most fair, every high school should use the same GPA scale and the only available standardized test should be the SAT.
Starting with the GPA, the scales range everywhere from a 4 to a 5. At Thornton Academy, an extremely high GPA is a 4.2 whereas a 4.6 is very good in other schools. When colleges look at applications, at first glance, the student with a 4.6 will already have an advantage. Why don’t high schools around the country unite and come up with a universal grading system. This doesn’t only apply to GPA scale, but also the comparison between numerical grades and letter grades (example: 93.5 is the lowest A). In a day where everybody is fighting for equality across the board, I don’t see why our schooling can’t be somewhat equal. Students deserve to see proper average GPAs for colleges that they aspire to attend.
The other issue is the fact that there are two different standardized tests. Now if colleges state that both tests are equal, then why don’t high schools offer both tests to their students, rather than just the SAT. Some less fortunate students may not be able to afford to take extra standardized tests and may not have the opportunity to gauge which test he or she likes better. That means that the rich have an unfair advantage to the poor. Testing should strictly be about brains, and using just one test will help that idea.
Colleges and students should have universal statistics for average GPAs and Standardized Tests. Equality in the college process is imperative and changes need to be made to ensure fairness.

January 24, 2019

Story of My Life

There are certain days in everyone’s life that simply put suck. Waking up is a struggle, hair won’t cooperate, and so many other occurrences happen that the day ending seems better then being present for one more hour. On the other hand there are days in which every action, feeling, and thought is amazing, when hours seem to go by in seconds. In the human life span, there are so many sad and happy days, people lose track. However, the days that will forever be remembered are the ones that fall right in the middle of the spectrum. For instance (just off the top of my head), imagine girl waking up and everything seems great. The outfit, hair, and shoes looks amazing, and for the first time in a month long feelings of happiness are finally coming back. She leaves early to get a coffee, because for the first time in months there is actually money in her bank account. Feeling in an especially good mood she shoots her friend a quick text, then within seconds of looking up that great mood disperses. For starring back at her was the worst image possible, gold badge, blue flashing lights and all. Immediately her happy mood disappears from sight, and sadness now creeps into her veins as the officer walks closer and closer to her car. Her bank account the previous hour full, is now empty. Her life for the next month is ultimately over. Days like these will never be forgotten, years will go by, thousands of more memories will be made, and then someone will bring up how stupid the girl was, the one time she got caught texting at a stop light. She’ll try to argue back, reason with her friends, who won’t let her forget the stupidity she made that day. However, in her mind she knows they are right, lesson learned, day over, and never to be forgotten again.

January 24, 2019

Excuses Hurt

Before we start, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m a junior in high school who works her butt off to get straight A’s. Outside of school, I’m a cashier, a sister, a daughter, a friend, and the best pet mom ever. Call me biased, but I think I’m one of the most hilarious people on this planet and you’re definitely missing out if we’re not friends. Overall, I have a great life that I don’t want to trade for anything.

Based on the short description of myself, you probably wouldn’t guess that I’m actually a child of divorce; a child of an atrocious divorce. My parents split when I was only six years old, so I hardly remember the actual divorce, it’s the aftermath that haunts me. My dad was there for me for approximately two years, then he started choosing his girlfriends over me. He kept distancing himself from me more and more; our relationship was so broken, that at the young age of nine, I chose to stop seeing him. My story may not be as devastating as that of others, but it was devastating to me. Despite the fact that I had a constant feeling of betrayal, I kept living and I kept doing my best.

In the beginning everything was hard for me. Especially when I started feeling different at school when I heard the various excuses that were made for kids who acted out. “Oh their parents are divorced.” “Her dad isn’t around anymore, let it slide.” “His behavior is only a result of his parents’ divorce.” I heard these excuses, yet I never heard them being used for me. I questioned what was wrong with me, why no one ever mentioned my parents’ divorce. But the truth is, I was fine; the people making the excuses had a problem, not me. I’m a child of divorce, yet I don’t act out in class or disrespect my teachers, so if it’s not an excuse in my life, why is it an excuse in someone else’s? For having divorced parents to be an excuse, shouldn’t all children with divorced parents act out? The answer is no; the only place the divorced parents excuse belongs, is in the trash. A child is allowed to be sad, or angry that their parents are no longer together, but they are not allowed to use the divorce as an excuse to be rude and disrespectful. But using this excuse only enables those who act out, and it tends to offend those who don’t. Speaking from personal experience, hearing people use the “they have divorced parents” excuse hurt me almost as much as the actual divorce did.

January 22, 2019March 14, 2019

Food

Food. I love food I mean who doesn’t? From spicy Indian to light French to heavy Irish food it all has a place and time. Growing up Greek food was apart of my everyday life. My mother, sisters, brothers and father all knew how to cook although my mother was in charge of the kitchen. Memories of my mother cooking and learning from seeing her simply “chuck” items in towards creating a masterpiece. As a new cook I followed a cookbook like it was a bible. I soon learned the art of “chucking” food in to create something I would most likely never make again. I remember once trying to write down my mother’s recipe but it was mostly made of ingredients like: “one, two maybe three lemons, depends on the flour,” “half a cup, no a little bit more, sometimes less,” “dill: optional…maybe?” and so forth. All I know is my mother’s cooking affects my deepest memories.

Sick: Augo Lemeno (av-go-lem-mo-no) translation: egg lemon soup, but it’s really a chicken soup. Paula Arabatzis claims it heals all ailments. Hasn’t been proven not to as of yet.

Homey food: kima (ki-ma) translation: meat sauce with spaghetti. Kima is actually heaven on a plate. I would always ask for kima before leaving home for a really long time. Irony is this “long time” is either camp or my trip last summer to Greece. Both with Greek people and Greek food, including kima. yuuuuum.

Christmas breakfast: Pastichio (pa-stich-ee-o) translation: meat and noodles with a creamy bechamel sauce on top. There has always been an unspoken tradition between me and my older siblings of having this the morning of Christmas. We had all been to church the night before and just broken the fast. Meat, dairy, olive oil, it’s all back. Although it’s often very heavy to eat all at once at 10pm, so rather we have all learned to pace ourselves and slowly work our way back to cheese and meat.

Neighbor gifts: Koulourakia (Kou-lou-ra-kia) translation small twisted buttery cookies with sesame seeds on top meant for dunking into tea/coffee. Our neighbors LOVE these desserts. My mom would make them fresh out of the oven, package them and have my siblings and I (more often myself being the youngest) srpting them over in the cold to easily six or seven houses. We would often return with goodies my father would look distastefully at while my siblings and I would look at awe towards peanut butter balls and other American desserts we never had at home.

The smell of my childhood: Mastiha (ma-sti-ha) translation: a gum type substance found on tree native to Greece. My mother uses this is a sweet bread used for church services that is absolutely divine. If I ever missed school for church this bread would often make an appearance and become my breakfast that day. The small of mastiha growing up was one of my favorites. I would walk downstairs to the delightful smell and just feel warm.

Most food in my house made you feel warm, often because of the oven, but having a bowl of homemade soup just made your body tingle in delight. Having fresh Greek desserts straight from the oven brought your sweet tooth unimaginable joy. There is really nothing like a freshly baked cookie that’s just the right about of warm softness. Food brings my family together, sitting at the dining table being forced to interact and learn of everyone’s lives. Laughing, yelling, and learning your sister is getting married. Finding out your going to be an aunt, uncle, grandparent. The memories made around food connect and bring small joys to our life everytime we eat that same food.

Kristina Arabatzis

January 22, 2019January 22, 2019

life advice

My dad gets it. Gets life, in my opinion at least. Well, maybe not gets it, because who fully understands life, but he seems to have the answers to everything.

Now I know that the parents giving ~life advice~ cliche has been somewhat beaten to a bloody pulp, and for good reason, because sometimes adults are oblivious to all perspectives except theirs. However, my dads life advice actually makes sense. Crazy. It’s taken me up until recently to see it, though. Something finally clicked. I’ve realized he’s been right about most things all along. Maybe it’s because me and my dad are the same person, so we think the same way, which we do. I owe that to him. Anyways, he has a very logical way of thinking which makes his solutions to things, scarily simple.

For instance, with swim. I have this issue, (guess who brought it to my attention), where my brain blocks my body from maximizing its full potential. My dad’s solution, you gotta want it. That’s it. Makes sense. Do you give up half way through races? Sometimes. Do you want to win? Not enough as I should. Do you try your very hardest? Not always.

Another instance, why are some of my teachers making school so difficult this year? That’s life’s way of preparing you for the future. Is everyone perfect? No. Are you going to like everyone? No. Are you going to get along with everyone? No. Makes sense.

Of course there’s more to the discussions than that, however, that’s the take away, and that’s what really matters. My dad can take a problem that seems overly complex and has no solution, and then give it a clear solution.

January 21, 2019January 21, 2019

17 Years, 17 Lessons

lighted happy birthday candles — Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

Tomorrow, on January 22, I turn 17 (yay!). So, instead of writing you a normal essay (in which I usually write something very arty-farty), I will write 17 lessons/peices of advice I have learned in my (almost) 17 years of living. Mind you, a lot of these I still struggle with and do not follow, but have nearly found to be little nuggets of wisdom I have noticed in my life. Furthermore, they are in no peticular order of importance; pick and choose whatever you like the most to remember.

1. When doing homework, take breaks. I used to think that the most efficient way of working was to plow through non-stop. However, I quickly discovered that I would become tired, slow, and half-hearted in my efforts. Taking 10 to 20 minute breaks keeps you focused and energized.

2. Take care of your body. Salads do not taste as good as pizza and exercising hurts, but you will feel AWESOME afterward. Tip: do not start exercising by running for 10 miles and doing 100 squats. You will die. Start small, then work your way up.

3. My great-grandfather survived WWII, raised four girls, and climbed across long, rocky beaches into his senior years. His advice? Chocolate is “healthy for you” and ice cream is “good food.” He lived to be 94.

4. Spend time with your family. For a lot of my education, I was homeschooled. This meant that I spent a lot of time with my two brothers. I am so thankful that we are still friends and enjoy each other’s company as teenagers.

5. Things that seem mediocre now will become nostalgic later.

6. Like what you like. Confession: I like (cringe) emo music. And alternative. And flannel. And coffee. And art. Gosh darn it, I’m an accidental, stereotypical, arty-hipster-teenage-girl. Oh well. It’s better to shamelessly enjoy what you like than crumble under socialital pressure.

7. When making any work of art, whether it’s writing, performance, or visual, throw rules out the window. The old writing masters like Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, or Shakespeare never studied the rhetorical devices (sorry, Ms. Durkee). They just wrote, straight from the heart, and people loved it! (Disclaimer: if a certain Mr. Arenstam or Ms. Durkee tells you to use your vocab and rhetorical devices, please don’t be a butt. Follow the rules.)

8. Homework is hard. But imagine doing your homework, reviewing all of your classmate’s homework, personally writing comments on their homework on how they could do better, and re-telling them what the previous lesson was about because they were not paying attention in class. Teachers do all this on a daily basis. Be respectful, and turn in your work on-time.

9. Try to see your parent’s side of the story. Parenting is really hard work, and no one is perfect at it. Be respectful.

10. Sometimes, homework forces us to stay up past our bedtimes later than we prefer. However, it is still important to get at least eight hours of sleep. When I get sleep-deprived, my schoolwork suffers, creating a vicious cycle of staying up late to do homework, then working slowly the next day, forcing me to stay up and do homework…

11. Drink more water!

12. Spend time with your pets! They are so excited to see you at the end of the day. To your dog/cat/fish/etc., you are a superstar!

13. It is okay to make mistakes. Really. If you are reading this, chances are you are still growing. Growing up takes a lot of mistakes.

14. Pens are better than pencils. Their markings are always visible. and the feeling they give when they glide across a page is buttery and smooth. Plus, you do not have to resharpen them or to erase anything. What if you make a mistake, you ask? Did you not just read number 13?

15. When your friend is venting, try not to give advice. People have the inherent desire to help, but sometimes the best way to help is to just say nothing.

16. Crying is good for you! It is ok to cry, even if it’s over spilled milk. But…

17. Try to be positive! Spilling milk sucks, but you can get yourself another glass later.

January 20, 2019January 29, 2019

The Psychological Impact of a Like

By now, after years of scrolling through your instagram feeds every hour of every day, you have come to realize that it all has become so addictive, especially those ‘likes’ you are getting on the artsy photo that you just posted. So what is social media doing to my brain? Why am I so addicted to the ‘likes’ and what are they doing to my self-esteem?

Your brain releases a squirt of dopamine resulting in a physiological high each time you receive a like or positive response on social media that excites you. It’s a rewarding cycle, therefore, you continue to strive to be liked so your brain can continue to feel this addictive and natural high. When you focus your energy into impressing the people who follow you and to gaining likes, you are left feeling vulnerable as you put others opinions about you above your own. When you believe that the other people’s opinions are facts, you will have low self-esteem as a result. Low self-esteem can lead to depression and other mental health problems that can also result from not using social media safely by letting it consume a majority of your time. Social media is not used as a tool for aspiration, positivity, motivation, or as a way to connect to others by many. Instead, it makes us feel like we are less perfect than everyone else because we only see their best and most perfect moments that they choose to share.

In the end, social media and the online world are not reality, they are only parts of a virtual one. Human beings crave social interactions, the kinds that interactions on social media cannot make up for. Being dependent on positive reinforcements from sources online effect means that these factors influence your mood and behavior in real life, therefore, affecting your real life social interactions, the more important ones.

Isabella Dube 1/17/19

January 17, 2019

Don’t Judge a Book By It’s Cover

Imagine having the largest zit possible right on the top of the forehead, for everyone to see. Imagine people starring and pointing as feet pass one another in the hallway, or at the mall. Now imagine for a whole life span, that zit will never leave. The anxious feeling engulfing you as people judge and stare, will always be there. The zit can be hidden for a short while, but in reality soon enough everyone will find out. Those emotions are how people with medical illness or disabilities feel everyday. Every time a person awkwardly stares their way, every time they’re talking to someone and the tone in their voice slowly changes when they find out what’s wrong, slowly changes as they feel more and more pity. Those emotions are like the zit, in reality people with these illness want the zit to be ignored. Though the presence of the zit is always their, the person beneath it does not change. They are still human, still capable of having real, true emotions, and still able to life a happy and fulfilled life even with the zit constantly on their forehead. Sometimes, though crazy to even imagine, the zit can be forgotten. So accustomed to the presence, people can go whole days without even thinking or remembering the zit is even their. Of course that all changes, when people, unlike them, not able to know their reality, point and stare. Even if not intentional, the awkward glance, or pitiful head tilts, are always noticed. Coming from my own personal “acne problems”, I encourage you to look beneath that first initial layer. Don’t judge a person based off of a sickness they can’t possibly change. If the roles were reversed, if the zit was placed on your forehead instead of theirs, would you want to be treated any differently? Would the presence of one zit really change the person beneath that much

January 17, 2019

My Purpose

4e8aceed-fc99-4555-862d-bcc4d92bca4f Everyone has a purpose in life; it’s just a fact. The challenging aspect of purposes is not accepting them, it is determining what they are and what they mean. Ask any person what it means to have a purpose, and they will most likely stare back at you with a blank look on their face. Ask any person what their purpose in life is, and the most common response will be “I don’t know.” But in reality, “what is the purpose of life” is a flawed question; no one has one single purpose in life, we have a new purpose every day that just needs to be discovered.

From day to day my purpose changes. My purpose today was not the same as yesterday. Waking up this morning I thought my purpose was to go to school and do well on my tests; something that benefits me. In actuality, my purpose for today was to put aside my tests and homework and be there for someone who was in desperate need of a friend. Yesterday my purpose was to unload the dishwasher and do laundry; two simple tasks that appear purposeless, yet they uplifted my mom immediately. Never in a million years did I think that doing the dishes and the laundry would make my mom’s day so much better; they’re just simple chores I do all the time, but yesterday they made an impact. Tuesday was only two days ago, but I can’t seem to remember what my purpose was, and that’s because a purpose is that of a spring shower. Pivotal to those involved, all the while fleeting and quickly forgotten.

My purpose in life is ever changing, and so is the purpose of every other human being on earth. I can’t give an answer to the “what is the purpose of life” question because I don’t have one specific purpose, and my purpose is very different than your purpose. I couldn’t accurately tell you what my purpose for tomorrow will be, I can only make a guess. I may not know my purpose for tomorrow even after tomorrow comes. A purpose, visible or not, is there and it is powerful. No one can have a definitive purpose because no one has a life that goes exactly according to plan.