Well well well!
Altius Test Prep seems to be a rather amazing course. I'm just over halfway through the program right now, and I feel like it's been helping me along quite a bit. It costs about as much as a semester of tuition, but considering the inherent value of a good MCAT score, it's well worth the price - and to me, much more value per dollar than Kaplan.
And at the halfway mark, you take your first practice exam. Though I had seen much of the material before, it was good to take the test just to become familiar with the format. I was still nervous, and said a little prayer before taking it. Five and a half hours later, I emerged from the test with a whopping 41! Now, if I actually get a 41 (that's 99.7th percentile) on the MCAT, I will rejoice exceedingly, but I'm not getting my hopes up from the practice test. Today there was no pressure, and I'd seen a lot of the questions first - but now I know how it feels to approach the test with complete confidence that I'm going to rock it. And come test day (August 24th now!) I want to feel the same way.
I'm a little behind in my classes due to making birthday preparations for this girl (more to come on that), plus a deep inset need to commune with nature during the summer, but to be honest I am having fun getting ready for the MCAT! Some say that I am wasting my summer away in the library, but it doesn't feel that way to me.
More bulletins as events warrant!
7.03.2010
6.25.2010
The Face of Courage
Anne Frank. June 12, 1929 - February 1945
She died just 3 months before the end of the war.
"We have been pointedly reminded that we are in hiding, that we are Jews in chains, chained to one spot, without any rights, but with a thousand duties. We Jews mustn't show our feelings, must be brave and strong, must accept all inconveniences and not grumble, must do what is within our power and trust in God. Sometime this terrible war will be over. Surely the time will come when we are people again, and not just Jews.
Who has inflicted this upon us? Who has made us Jews different from all other people? Who has allowed us to suffer so terribly up till now? It is God that has made us as we are, but it will be God, too, who will raise us up again. If we bear all this suffering and if there are still Jews left, when it is over, then Jews, instead of being doomed, will be held up as an example. Who knows, it might even be our religion from which the world and all peoples learn good, and for that reason and that reason only do we have to suffer now. We can never become just Netherlanders, or just English, or representatives of any country for that matter, we will always remain Jews, but we want to, too.
Be brave! Let us remain aware of our task and not grumble, a solution will come, God has never deserted our people. Right through the ages there have been Jews, through all the ages they have had to suffer, but it has made them strong too; the weak fall, but the strong will remain and never go under!"
- Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl
I finished this book yesterday; it is truly remarkable.
6.15.2010
6.04.2010
Why I Like Real Life.
This is Post 100. It is also quite a behemoth.
I'm not apologizing.
Real life is so much better than TV. On television, things happen too perfectly: Even when people are fighting, they quip back and forth with crisply tailored comebacks or catty remarks that belie a script-writer behind the scenes, and a director that made them do it over and over again until the actress achieved the perfect piercing glare, and the cameraman caught the actor grit his teeth at just the right moment.
That's not the way it is in real life. In real life, people get so mad that they say things that they don't mean, or they can't figure out what to say at all - and their body language gets all confused. No, an actual fight contains much to actual emotion to be put on TV. It's too real. They cry or plead or beg - sometimes in incredibly inappropriate places, like across the table from me at the library - and rehash the same issues without making progress for so long that any television viewer would pick up the remote and change the channel.
On TV there is no place for actual interaction. Even on so-called "reality shows" we are inundated with "real people" thrown into the most bizarre of scenarios. Is it "reality" to assemble a dozen CEOs of various companies and pit them against each other in The Apprentice? Is it "reality" to gather a smattering of social firecrackers and force them to live with each other for days, weeks, months, and watch them drive each other crazy?
No, reality is riding public transportation home and listening to a teenage boy riddled with piercings strike up a conversation with a clean-cut graduate student about cowlicks, hair transplants, and why hair grows weird sometimes. I like being able to feel (without even looking at them) the tug-of-war between politeness and cautious suspicion on the part of the student, and the uncertain show of bravery the teenager put on as he tried to impress his gothic-clad and nervous-looking girlfriend. You would never see that on TV. The conversation was full of weird interchange, halting, jarring starts and stops. They called each other "mister" and "sir" and "dude" all in the same breath. I liked it. I liked the true, the actual, reality of it.
If something like that was a script written for television, it would have been edited until somebody got stabbed, or at the other extreme, all the occupants of the train bursting forth into song like a remake of Enchanted.
I like real things. I like real life because it doesn't really tell you what to do or to think like the media does, it just lets us believe what we wish to believe, and then we get to live the consequences. In real life, we are in an arena of doing. Instead of watching the news and hearing about all the terrible happenings in the world - and then being told to "stay tuned" through the next commercial break, how about breaking away from that television telling you to stay rooted in your chair and actually doing something about all that horrible news you keep hearing about?
What are you going to do about it? How about joining a boys and girls club? How about volunteering at a shelter, a hospital, a senior living center? How about taking a bit of the world you don't like and squashing it with a little more hard work or a little more charity? Surely over the course of your life you have discovered ways that you were a little more gifted than the other people around you - but how are you going to share it? How will you use it?
As the media guiltily sweeps under the rug the consequences of poor choices, real life stands in brilliant contrast: because real life is real and your actions do have tangible consequences! That fact is bad news only if you insist on continuing to make bad choices. You are in control of your life - so stop complaining about the things you don't like and start doing something about it! You can have the life you want. Just envision consequences you need, and act.
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Ghandi
I'm not apologizing.
Real life is so much better than TV. On television, things happen too perfectly: Even when people are fighting, they quip back and forth with crisply tailored comebacks or catty remarks that belie a script-writer behind the scenes, and a director that made them do it over and over again until the actress achieved the perfect piercing glare, and the cameraman caught the actor grit his teeth at just the right moment.
That's not the way it is in real life. In real life, people get so mad that they say things that they don't mean, or they can't figure out what to say at all - and their body language gets all confused. No, an actual fight contains much to actual emotion to be put on TV. It's too real. They cry or plead or beg - sometimes in incredibly inappropriate places, like across the table from me at the library - and rehash the same issues without making progress for so long that any television viewer would pick up the remote and change the channel.
On TV there is no place for actual interaction. Even on so-called "reality shows" we are inundated with "real people" thrown into the most bizarre of scenarios. Is it "reality" to assemble a dozen CEOs of various companies and pit them against each other in The Apprentice? Is it "reality" to gather a smattering of social firecrackers and force them to live with each other for days, weeks, months, and watch them drive each other crazy?
No, reality is riding public transportation home and listening to a teenage boy riddled with piercings strike up a conversation with a clean-cut graduate student about cowlicks, hair transplants, and why hair grows weird sometimes. I like being able to feel (without even looking at them) the tug-of-war between politeness and cautious suspicion on the part of the student, and the uncertain show of bravery the teenager put on as he tried to impress his gothic-clad and nervous-looking girlfriend. You would never see that on TV. The conversation was full of weird interchange, halting, jarring starts and stops. They called each other "mister" and "sir" and "dude" all in the same breath. I liked it. I liked the true, the actual, reality of it.
If something like that was a script written for television, it would have been edited until somebody got stabbed, or at the other extreme, all the occupants of the train bursting forth into song like a remake of Enchanted.
I like real things. I like real life because it doesn't really tell you what to do or to think like the media does, it just lets us believe what we wish to believe, and then we get to live the consequences. In real life, we are in an arena of doing. Instead of watching the news and hearing about all the terrible happenings in the world - and then being told to "stay tuned" through the next commercial break, how about breaking away from that television telling you to stay rooted in your chair and actually doing something about all that horrible news you keep hearing about?
What are you going to do about it? How about joining a boys and girls club? How about volunteering at a shelter, a hospital, a senior living center? How about taking a bit of the world you don't like and squashing it with a little more hard work or a little more charity? Surely over the course of your life you have discovered ways that you were a little more gifted than the other people around you - but how are you going to share it? How will you use it?
As the media guiltily sweeps under the rug the consequences of poor choices, real life stands in brilliant contrast: because real life is real and your actions do have tangible consequences! That fact is bad news only if you insist on continuing to make bad choices. You are in control of your life - so stop complaining about the things you don't like and start doing something about it! You can have the life you want. Just envision consequences you need, and act.
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Ghandi
5.23.2010
Pattering against the windows,
the rain puts me into a somber and reflective mood, as usual. For some reason it makes me think of Peter Pan, and Neverland, and I feel a little left out, because I have never been.
I wish I was a better writer. jbod tells a story about cough syrup, and you'd think it was Mary Poppins and magic; B writes in perfect prose, and can make me wistful, playful, or thoughtful in four lines or less. Me, I've learned to compose a compellingly persuasive essay on nearly any topic of importance - and somewhere along the way, I think I strangled my inner child.
And I'm thinking of those the wishes we that have. The ones we do not dare speak aloud, because really deep down inside of your heart (right next to that spot reserved for your mom and dad and God and brothers and sisters), we're afraid that if we say our wish out loud that it really might not come true. And I want those wishes to come true so bad sometimes.
So when the sky clears, and the stars come out, I'll go outside and let myself feel little under the big night sky. I'll stare up at that big black canvas punctured by a billion burning suns and think about "big picture" things until my mind is spinning. Finally, I'll think about my writing wish and the other ones I'm too scared or superstitious to tell you about, and I'll let go. I'll let all my inadequacies float lazily away on the summer breeze.
But tonight, with the rain pattering against the windows, I will simply comfort myself with hope, and happiness, and by counting my blessings.
I wish I was a better writer. jbod tells a story about cough syrup, and you'd think it was Mary Poppins and magic; B writes in perfect prose, and can make me wistful, playful, or thoughtful in four lines or less. Me, I've learned to compose a compellingly persuasive essay on nearly any topic of importance - and somewhere along the way, I think I strangled my inner child.
And I'm thinking of those the wishes we that have. The ones we do not dare speak aloud, because really deep down inside of your heart (right next to that spot reserved for your mom and dad and God and brothers and sisters), we're afraid that if we say our wish out loud that it really might not come true. And I want those wishes to come true so bad sometimes.
So when the sky clears, and the stars come out, I'll go outside and let myself feel little under the big night sky. I'll stare up at that big black canvas punctured by a billion burning suns and think about "big picture" things until my mind is spinning. Finally, I'll think about my writing wish and the other ones I'm too scared or superstitious to tell you about, and I'll let go. I'll let all my inadequacies float lazily away on the summer breeze.
But tonight, with the rain pattering against the windows, I will simply comfort myself with hope, and happiness, and by counting my blessings.
5.17.2010
a bitty blog post
These days, I feel I'd rather be experiencing life than blogging about it, so I've been lax in sharing much with you recently. Don't take it personal, it's just hard to blog when spring is in swing. Thus, I have listed some of the joyful distractions that excuse my absence from blogging. I recommend you enjoy some of these too:
warm weather
green grass
scripture reading with friends
bare toes
people watching
water falls
warm weather
green grass
scripture reading with friends
croquet
holding hands
marshmallows
holding hands
marshmallows
bare toes
people watching
water falls
self-help books
sunglasses
musicals
sunglasses
musicals
I thought I also mention parenthetically that four years ago today, I entered the Missionary Training Center. Sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ changed my life forever. If you are looking for answers to questions of the soul, I suggest you start here. More on this on May 24th.
5.05.2010
Fresh Mart is Stealing My Childhood!
When I was but 6 years old, my oldest sister Kim was babysitting me. We needed to go to the store, so we guessed how many (Kim-sized) steps it would take to walk to Albertson's. Knowing Albertson's to be farther away than I had probably ever walked, I guessed a really big number: 100. 265 steps or so later, Kim and I walked into the store. I still remember getting an ice-cream cone with her, where she taught me to sing I Saw the Sign by Ace of Base.
Upon receiving my one-dollar weekly allowance in elementary school (tons of money), my cousin Dave and I would always walk down to Albertson's and spend hours deliberating whether to buy Fun Dips, a pastry, Neccos, Spree, or Nerds. Then we'd go to aisle 4 and freeze to death while we picked out a soda for a quarter.
In high school, Jordan, Matt, Marshall, Chris, Isaac, Andrew, Steve and I would all cram onto the trampoline in our sleeping bags and talk about girls. Jordan and I would argue about who gets to date Rachel and Isaac would go home early, then we would all walk down to Albertson's, look for the obligatory HCAA (hot chick at Albertson's), then buy energy drinks. Once we got hyper enough, we'd start prank calling the girls we liked. Matt would swear if he drank enough Red Bulls then life would move in slow motion.
Naturally, when hanging out with my friends last week, Albertson's was the first place that came to mind when we needed ice cream to make shakes. As the cashier was ringing us up, I got the surprise of my life.
Cashier: "How y'all doing tonight?
Me: "Good good. Just gonna make some shakes!"
Cashier: "Sounds like fun. You guys from around here?"
Me: "I live just around the corner. I've been coming to this Albertson's for my whole life. I've had some good times here.
Cashier: "It's not Albertson's."
All of us: "..."
Me: "I don't get it. There's a giant neon Albertson's sign on the front of the building."
Cashier: [pointing to the logo on his shirt] "It's Fresh Mart now."
I was speechless. I felt like my wife of 20 years was leaving me. How could this happen? This place where so many treasured memories have happened?
Probably, nobody else cares all that much, but to me, I feel a little sad inside. Thanks for the good times, Albertson's. I'll miss you!
Upon receiving my one-dollar weekly allowance in elementary school (tons of money), my cousin Dave and I would always walk down to Albertson's and spend hours deliberating whether to buy Fun Dips, a pastry, Neccos, Spree, or Nerds. Then we'd go to aisle 4 and freeze to death while we picked out a soda for a quarter.
In high school, Jordan, Matt, Marshall, Chris, Isaac, Andrew, Steve and I would all cram onto the trampoline in our sleeping bags and talk about girls. Jordan and I would argue about who gets to date Rachel and Isaac would go home early, then we would all walk down to Albertson's, look for the obligatory HCAA (hot chick at Albertson's), then buy energy drinks. Once we got hyper enough, we'd start prank calling the girls we liked. Matt would swear if he drank enough Red Bulls then life would move in slow motion.
Naturally, when hanging out with my friends last week, Albertson's was the first place that came to mind when we needed ice cream to make shakes. As the cashier was ringing us up, I got the surprise of my life.
Cashier: "How y'all doing tonight?
Me: "Good good. Just gonna make some shakes!"
Cashier: "Sounds like fun. You guys from around here?"
Me: "I live just around the corner. I've been coming to this Albertson's for my whole life. I've had some good times here.
Cashier: "It's not Albertson's."
All of us: "..."
Me: "I don't get it. There's a giant neon Albertson's sign on the front of the building."
Cashier: [pointing to the logo on his shirt] "It's Fresh Mart now."
I was speechless. I felt like my wife of 20 years was leaving me. How could this happen? This place where so many treasured memories have happened?
Probably, nobody else cares all that much, but to me, I feel a little sad inside. Thanks for the good times, Albertson's. I'll miss you!
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