Stirring Wheel

May 30th, 2008 • 2 comments High School, Nostalgia, Personal, Random, Thoughts
Tags: a year and a day, ben ames williams, cat, english literature, hay infusion, kittens, leslie pieterzyk, microbiology, play, pregnant, siamese, they grind exceedingly small

Grab your chance to escape, let your life be an unwritten book. We’re not born who we are — we become who we are.

–Leslie Pietrzyk (A Year And A Day)

I remember during one of our Microbiology classes when I was a Junior (emphasizing the word “was”), we did an activity called, Hay Infusion, where we soaked about less than a handful of hay in a tap water-filled jar for twenty-four hours. Then the next day, we examined the water under a microscope. There, we saw a lot of bacteria moving around. We compared it with plain tap water and saw the obvious difference between the two.

Last March, we did a play for English Literature. We did They Grind Exceedingly Small by some American writer named Ben Ames Williams. We had about a month to prepare but we only did the preparations one week before we actually did the play. Procrastination. Blame not us. Blame our overflowing schedule and up to the brim projects and exams. But the one week of preparations worked out well, I can say.

I was asked by my classmates to play the lead role of Hazen Kinch. And so I had to memorize a lot of lines. But I didn’t think of it as a problem. I just treated it as memorizing 3rd grade English poems. And about my acting, I don’t wanna say much about it. They said I’m good, I delivered my lines well, thus making me exempted for 4th quarter English Lit. periodical exam. And our good performance (as what the audience and English teachers said) brought us a 95% grade for that play. Not bad being third from the highest.

My Siamese cat, as what I’ve told everybody, is looking for a “friend”. Or to make things straight, it’s looking for a boyfriend to have someone it could have sex with and finally, have kittens — have cats that’ll make our house stink more with more cat shit.

I guess, that’s how the way life goes — you’re born, you do things, and you die. So universal. But we’re not born who we are, we become who we are. We, or things, drive us to become our selves. We get interested with things and BOOM…you end up being somebody you didn’t expect you’re gonna be. Just like bacteria in tap water, reproducing into a lot when infused with hay; just like when I escaped myself, entered the persona of Hazen Kinch and got exempted from Eng. Lit periodical test; just like my cat, someday, it’ll have kittens when she, or we, found the right male cat for her.

And that’s the hell I could write right now. A bunch of randomness, sprinkled with the refreshing (and somehow) depressing nostalgia.