my last day

Today was my last day of a lot of things. It was my last day of working on the yearbook (although not my last day of stressing about the yearbook), my last day of what-I-call-school, my last day in this country for a month and a half. It was the last time for a while that I could sit up at the park and watch the metalheads walk by and listen to Chris identify the songs.

It was a good day. A good night.

It's been weird, being here. And now it's weird leaving.

I feel like I'm being released from prison, assuming that I would make friends in prison. It's... complicated. Bittersweet.

One thing I've always had trouble with is the fact that things change. I remember talking about this in tenth grade with Will one day. We were walking around the school holding hands or whatever the kids do these days, talking about random things.

Me: I can't grasp the concept of change. I always just assume that things are how they always have been and how they always will be, even though I know that's ridiculous.

Will: I've never had that problem.

Me: I don't know. I just can't get my head around things changing.

It's been an issue for me; usually I'd just pretend everything was the same, no matter how absurd that seemed. Moving to Switzerland was a change that I really couldn't ignore though. And so I adjusted, and I made it my home, sort of.

But... America is still my home, really. I lived there for the first 17 years of my life. Virginia is my home. And that's where I'm going tomorrow.

I'm leaving home. I'm going home.

I'm sad about leaving. I'm happy about going.

It's a bit like before I moved; I was excited to come here, but not at the expense of everything I knew. And I put on a braver face than was honest with most people.

Those of you who saw me at my worst can vouch for that.

The thing about that though was that Switzerland was this great mystery and I really had no idea what it was going to be like. This time, I know almost exactly what I'm coming home to, and I love that, and I couldn't be happier about that.

Except that I have to leave here.

Not that I like it here.

And we're back to the prison analogy now; I'm happy to be out of this place but there are some things I'd rather not leave behind.

I don't even know what's going on. My tweets were incomprehensible tonight and I'd bet my blogging isn't especially coherent either.

Also, this was self-indulgent.

American kids: See you soon!

Swiss kids: I'll miss you. But I'll be back soon enough!

Love always,

Clara

i am so close to being done with high school.

I'm watching my final chapter's worth of videos for calculus. This is the last I'll see of my dear Edward Burger. Farewell, Edward. It's been a great eight months.

Edward Burger: I'm going to change the names of these, live. Now, I know you're thinking, "Can he even do that?" Well guess what? It's my lecture!

Burger's getting feisty.

Edward Burger: So time equals t. So I'll be drinking tea, in the up and down direction.

I found that particular instance of math-related-wordplay personally hilarious, for reasons upon which I can't really elaborate, but if you know what I mean, you know what I mean. (teehee)

Edward Burger: You've heard the term, a smooth operator. Well that's what we're talking about here... in a math-y vector context.

I have to pack tonight. That's going to be an insane process. I'm not really looking forward to it, honestly, but I have to do it tonight, because tomorrow I'm going to school and then going to a barbecue and then going out because it's my last night.

Which is crazy.

Next time I'm in this country, I'll be a high-school graduate. When random web sites ask me for my highest level of education (you would be surprised how often this happens), I can honestly say, "Completed High School"

I'm pretty sure when I say "Some High School" the website assumes I'm a dropout and judges me, so it'll be nice to lose that stigma.

I'm not so sure that a website is able to judge.

Love always,
Clara

i'm not friends with any hookers, i don't think

Sourabh: You don't even know my mom! How tall is she?

Mehdi: I can't remember every single mom I've been with... Like, Megan... Lydia...

Me: Hey, my mom's foxy. I don't mind.

Jelena asked me for Tessa's number, but I didn't have it so I made one up, which was fine by her. She proceeded to call this number, saying it was Tessa, to embarrass him.

The random swiss guy who called back wasn't thrilled.

Sourabh: Hey, do you guys like hookers?

Me: What?

Sourabh: Yeah, like, female hookers. Mehdi and Clemens told me, girls like hookers. Not to do anything with, just in general.

Halima: So... are we friends with hookers?

When I was younger, I didn't know what a gigolo was.

Remember that song, Gigolo?

I remember singing that song in the car, having no idea what I was saying, and my mom being horrified and explaining the meaning to me. Good times on long car rides.

Sourabh: Once, two hookers came to me and Clemens in Bern. We ran away.

I just had the greatest conversation with my mother.

Me: Hey you know what's fun? Doing calculus after a gin and tonic.

Mom: I was about to ask you how that was going.

...

Me: Oh, they all listen to [redacted musician]. [Redacted] listens to [redacted] because [Redacted] listens to [redacted] because [Redacted] listens to [redacted].

Mom: They're all just following the drug felon.

Me: Well, yeah. That's what I do when I'm in doubt.

...

Mom: Okay. Well I'm going to go try to remember what made me swear off gin.

Love always,

Clara

i'm a teen!

Mom's concerned about media.

Mom: Now it's all texting! Just when I had email figured out...

I'm in the student lounge. What's funny is that the people in my grade (not all, but some) were pissed off when the grade 11s were in here, but Frau L just threw a couple sixth graders into the room and no one seems to mind.

One of the kids is pretty hilarious; I've seen him around at lunch. He was selling fruit cups the other day.

Thomas: Hey wait!

Kid: *walking away*

Thomas: Oy! CHILD!

Kid: *turns around* I told you once, I'm a TEEN!

later...

Me: So how old are you, then?

Kid: Twelve.

Me: So you're not a teen!

Kid: I'm twelve and four months.

Me: ... that still rounds down. Come back in a couple months. Then we'll talk.

Kids are weird.

I include myself in that, because I am still a child.

Edward Burger: I'm just going to leave this in that form, because who knows what that equals? Only the shadow knows.

You know, math is getting trippier by the day.

I asked Mr K for help on a math problem yesterday. He literally told me to "find someone cleverer."

Love always,Clara

more songs (of thomas's and david's and my own)

It's one of those days when I really just want to zone out and listen to music and maybe start watching season 2 of Skins.

Unfortunately, I have a billion hours of math videos to watch. Literally. I calculated that value with a Taylor polynomial approximation, but the limit converges, so there is no error.

I'd love to use that in real life. It would be so useful in everyday interactions.

"Nice essay, but I didn't know what you were going on about on page three"

"The limit of the taylor series converges! There is NO ERROR"

"You're late"

"The limit converges."

"Do you know how fast you were going back there?"

"Officer, the limit of the taylor series I was doing in my head at the moment converges; I'm sure there was no error."

SO useful.

Anyway, I've been doing that, but I've also been taking extended slacker-breaks (I no longer call them study breaks; I need to be more honest with myself) and downloading music.

Which brings us to the following-

Bulletproof - La Roux

Your Love's a Drug - Leighton Meester

Everywhere I Go - Lissie

Blue Planet - Lake Heartbeat

Mystery - Lake Heartbeat

Every Time You Go - Ellie Goulding

Under the Sheets - Ellie Goulding

The Writer - Ellie Goulding

The Asteroids Collide - Alessi's Ark

Creature Fear - Bon Iver

I Can Talk - Two Door Cinema Club

Love of an Orchestra - Noah And The Whale

Mowgli's Road - Marina and the Diamonds

Obsessions - Marina and the Diamonds

Paris - Kate Nash

Don't You Want to Share the Guilt - Kate Nash

Sleep Tonight - Stars

Heart - Stars

So that'll keep me going tomorrow. So much work, I might die.

Love always,

Clara

I have such a headache

I have a murder headache.

I can't even think straight.

It's becoming exceedingly difficult to finish sentences.

For example, I just said, in real life, "If you're wearing a shirt, you're obviously wearing a shirt"

I'm skyping with Daph, and facebook-chatting with David.

David
true true...AND ITS ABOUT TO GET CLASSIER!!!!!

Basically, I'm okay when I'm sitting still in a dark room. If there's a light on, or loud sound, or if I have to stand up, I feel like I've been bludgeoned over the head. Repeatedly. And my eyes feel bruised, if that makes any sense at all.

I leave in six days. Which is kind of cool but kind of weird.

I'm going to bed.

Love always,

Clara

the dastardly deed

Can you figure out why I was lightheaded last night?

Blowing up balloons for four hours tends to do that to a person.

Senior prank '10 (and the first ISBerne senior prank in recent memory) was an epic success. We filled the faculty lounge with balloons, sprayed our names into the field, and sang obnoxious songs over the intercom.

Completely epic.

Today was our last day of school. Or, rather, I'm going to be coming to school next week to do work and deal with yearbook, but no one has classes.

High school classes, in general, are over. Classes, in the sense that I know them, are over.

What a trippy thought.

We had an assembly today; Larissa and Mariam danced, Aksil showed a video, Mehdi gave a speech... He made Mariam stand up and speak as well. She didn't want to, or, rather, she did, but she didn't want to start crying, and she knew that one would lead to the other.

But she got up anyway, and thanked Mr. L for being like a father to the class, and started to cry, which made everyone else want to cry, and we all got up and had a group hug like we were in an after school special or something. It was insane.

I felt bad because I really never got to know Mr. L as well as everyone else did. And I was sad, at the assembly; I'm realizing that I don't actually want to leave. But I want to go home.

I hate living in two places. I like going places. I don't like leaving them. But there's no way to avoid it, except to pretend it isn't happening until the moment you're on the airplane.

Who knew I'd be having these thoughts now. These thoughts belong to August '09.

Except, this time, I know what I'm going to. I know I'm going home. In August '09, I was trying hard to be optimistic about moving, because I had no choice, but honestly I hadn't a clue whether it was going to be good or bad or awesome or scary or what.

This time, I know what's waiting for me. Potomac won't have changed that much since November; I think I can count on that. It didn't change much in the 11 years I was there, no more than I did, although that's not a fair comparison. A person is supposed to change in eleven years. Twelve years.

Between going to Potomac on whatever wednesday afternoon it was, to recite my phone number and look charming and do whatever else it was a five year old needed to do to get into this school, and today, it's been twelve years.

And I'm somewhere else.

I feel like that's fundamentally wrong. Like I'm being disloyal.

But I don't really want to leave.

I don't know how bragging about our awesome senior prank turned into this crazy emotional rant. I think it's that our class really came together last night and today; I felt like I was a part of it, finally, and that's a great feeling, and am I going to have that when I go home? I don't know. I hope so.

Anyway, the balloons were sweet.

Love always,

Clara

i became lightheaded several times today

There's a reason for that, and I'll explain in further detail tomorrow. But know that it involves tomorrow being the seniors' last day of school before study leave (before exams).

Why don't we get a study leave at Potomac?

I guess it's that all of their classes are ending right now; whereas last year, I still had three classes in progress after APs.

Anyway, I became dizzy several times today.

Between the hours of 4PM and 8PM I was at school, and so was the rest of my class. It was really great, actually- I think we actually came together pretty nicely.

The vagueness is necessary but regardless, I apologize.

Pinky swear: details, pictures, the works-- tomorrow.

Love always,
Clara

things on facebook are so quickly taken out of context

... and I think it's funny.

Yesterday was pretty cool. I may go into further detail later, but for now I'll leave it at that.
Came home for dinner and mom was telling stories about her early days in journalism. She had a free radio show (i.e. they didn't pay her to do it), and she'd bring in these vaguely interesting people and interview them.
Which didn't always work out.

Once, she was interviewing a man who looked really nervous beforehand.
Guy: So, um, what kind of interview will this be?
Mom (joking): Oh, I'm just going to ask you if you still beat your wife!
Guy: *turns white* Those charges were dropped...
Mom: *feels awkward*

Apparently that's a completely true story, of which the moral is: don't joke about wife-beating?

Actually, this wasn't the only time wife-beating was a topic of discussion on Mom's show.
Once she interviewed a woman who had been abused, and had subsequently started some sort of foundation for battered women. According to my mother, she was a terrible person to interview in that she would give one word answers to everything, which isn't useful or interesting.
So my mother, fresh out of college, is frantically trying to come up with a question that will get her to talk, and she's thinking, "Who What When Where Why How?" because, of course, that is the journalist's mantra, and they repeat it to themselves a thousand times each night before they go to bed, because that's what journalists are like. Or maybe I made that part up.
Anyway.

Mom: So... How battered were you?

That's a true story. Mom asking sketchy questions about horrifying life experiences, on local television.
I think awkwardness is genetic.

Love always,

Clara

messy mondays?

Okay.

So.

Let's talk about this morning.

I was feeling pretty good this morning. It was nice out in a it-rained-last-night-and-everything-is-clean kind of way, and I was wearing gold sunglasses and singing Mika songs to myself, so the week was off to a pretty good start, I'd say. Dad gave me a ride to the Bundesplatz, from where I walked to Starbucks, thinking, "Damn, I look good today, and I'm in a great mood, and things are generally great."

So I'm lost in thoughts (about how awesome and effortlessly cool I am, of course). And then my foot strikes that newly-rained-upon ground and I completely fall over and the things in my bag go everywhere and I am no longer the coolest kid on the block.

So that was embarrassing but it didn't hurt or anything, so I figured it was just another day in the life of Clara. Fair enough.

I manage to get to Starbucks in one piece, somehow, and order my tall sugar free vanilla soy latte and have a great conversation with the Starbucks-woman about how everyone speaks English there.

I hadn't gotten Starbucks in the morning in a while, so I'd sort of forgotten my routine, which includes sitting at Starbucks for five to ten minutes checking facebook and twitter on my phone, essentially killing time so that I could catch the well-timed 8:01 tram.

I forgot that part today; I was probably distracted again by how effortlessly cool I am.

So I'm walking from Starbucks to the tram stop, and I see someone I recognize walking out from behind me up an escalator.

Me: Max?

Max: Hey!

[That was a completely unnecessary Real Conversation]

I hadn't seen Max in ages; not since Kyle's basketball party thing that one time. So I follow him up the escalator and we chat for a bit and I realize how good it is to see him and then we part ways. I get down the escalator again and start walking towards the tram stop, and... I don't even know what happened. Somehow my foot slipped or my hand freaked out or something but I ended up spilling sugar-free-vanilla-soy-latte on myself. Specifically, on my right boob (Matt asked later, naturally).

And it was hot. I yelped. Which I think was the world's way of adding insult to injury.

At that point there was nothing to do but keep going. I'd realized I was on schedule to make the 7:51 tram (the awkwardly-early one under most circumstances), but now I was realizing this wasn't such a bad thing, because maybe I could slip into the bathroom and try to rinse/dry my shirt or something, because I smelled like a combination of coffee and vanilla, and I was wet.

So I go and catch the tram.

About two minutes later, two teachers from my school sit down basically next to me. Here's how the tram chairs work- each "unit" is comprised of two rows of three chairs each, facing each other. So on one side you've got a foursome of chairs, parallel to each other, so that four people could comfortably sit there and have one conversation, and on the other side, there's a pair of chairs facing each other that is probably more suited for intimate tram moments, whatever those may be.

So I'm taking up more space than necessary in a foursome, and these two teachers (Ms R and Ms N? I really should know everyone's names by now) are sitting in the intimate seats. So once I leave my music-coma and realize they're there, I say hi, and then return to the coma. It occurred to me at that point that this tram is probably the faculty-tram, since they have to get to school earlier.

So that's chill.

But wait.

At the next stop, Mr C (of all kinds of fame that I will not even mention because things said on the internet can apparently mess up your life; ask Max) gets on, and of course he wants to talk to his colleagues. So he sits down in my foursome.

I'm at this point bruised, covered in coffee, and sitting next to one of the most hated teachers in my school.

At which point I decided the morning was definitely out of the ordinary in terms of clara-being-awkward. I hope this doesn't become a trend.

Chris got on the tram too (I have no idea why he takes that one; it's obviously the most awkward tram on the planet) and he literally would not sit next to me, because he knew better than to entangle himself in this ridiculous quadrangle of three teachers and myself. He just gave me this look like "Um, did you make some new friends?" and I gave him a look like "Shoot me please?"

He sat down in the foursome in front of mine (which was empty, which Mr C should have been sitting in, which everyone else should have been sitting in) and said good morning.

I was like "Um, no. Not a good morning. SUCH A SHITSHOW MESS OF A MORNING"

I told him the story. I'm pretty sure it didn't surprise him at all.

Love always,
Clara

what sound does a broken train make?

Last night when we were out, we ran into a huge group of ninth graders. Funny; I did decidedly little sketchy-hanging-out-at-parks-with-alcohol when I was in ninth grade. I guess times have sort of changed.

Anyway, Robert was there, hilarious child that he is, and he was doing something that displeased me. I don't remember what.

Me: Tsk tsk, Robert.

Robert: You say the weirdest things! First pish posh, now tsk tsk? You sound like a broken train!

Me: Broken trains don't sound like tsk tsk. They sound like whssshhhhhhhhEEEEEEkpphloughghhgh!!

Robert: What?!

Me: And 'tsk tsk' isn't supposed to be an onomatopoeia anyway.

So... if you were wondering, that's what a broken train sounds like. I had a lot of trouble spelling it. Respect.

Love always,
Clara

the disadvantages of being floral.

Just so you know, the title is supposed to be a reference to "The Perks of being a Wallflower," but I'm not sure it worked, because people don't immediately link the words "disadvantage" and "perk". If the book were called "The Advantages of being a Wallflower," that would be a lot better for the purposes of my attempts at humor.

Anyway, I tried. Insert cleverness above, if you are not satisfied.

I went out last night, wearing a skirt that I borrowed from Grace. Or, rather, I bought it for her for christmas, and she didn't like it, so I asked her a couple weeks ago if I could have it. So now it's mine. And I really like this skirt- it's one of those banded ones, and it's black with red flower-looking-things and little green leaf-looking-things. It's great.

So I'm wearing this with my legitimately-comfortable-heels (which I wear everywhere) and a white t shirt.

I should have counted the number of awkward come-ons I got from the rando swiss guys. Walking through kleine schanze, I had to pass through a group of older men who went dead silent.

Then one offered me money. Great.

Chris: I really like that skirt.

Me: Good. So does every guy in kleine schanze.

Speaking of counting things, I counted 119 DSLRs in Venice on our second day. It was really fun. I told Dad about the count after lunch; he said that counting things is pretty characteristically OCD, not that I have any of that or anything. Then he helped.

We did a walking tour the other day, and then a boat tour in the evening. One couple that was on our walking tour was also on our boat, so when we were getting off, dad asked jokingly, "So, what are we doing tomorrow?" because I think slightly-creepy-questions is his sense of humor sometimes.

And we start chatting with this couple while trying not to fall into the Adriatic. And then I see a camera and I go "Oh dad, by the way, 117" or something. And then I have to explain myself.

Me: See, I'm counting hardcore cameras that I see on tourists today. It's fun; it's like being on a scavenger hunt all the time! Not that I sound like a huge dork or anything...

Couple: *Slowly back away*

Anyway, that's been the past couple days. I spent almost all of yesterday on trains.

Love always,
Clara

venezia

... is a beautiful city.

I just woke up and dad's in the shower so let me just do a brief recap of yesterday because it was fun, but probably not that interesting to other people.

1. Wake up
2. Crazy family drama
3. Dad and I get on train
4. Switch trains
5. Get on different train
6. Eat lunch on said train
7. Get off train
8. Take a boat somewhere
9. Locate hotel
10. Wander around
11. Have dinner

While we were at dinner, we made friends with the couple next to us . The man was celebrating his 70th birthday, and they'd been married fifty years, and they were Icelandic. The woman (who I think had Alzheimer's or something) kept reminding us of that.

"Oh no, we're not from here... We're from iceland"

She also kept reminding us of the fact that she was eighteen when she married her husband.

That's a weird thought. I could get married right now.

No thank you.

Anyway, we ate and then we came back to the hotel room and watched 2012 and then we went to sleep.

Fun day.

Today we're going on a thousand tours of various kinds. It'll be sweet.

Love always,
Clara

back me up?

Problems with dating a Canadian: they're deeply jealous of their neighbors to the south, and so, due to reaction-formation (holla, Freud) (double holla, AP Psych) (is 'double holla' a thing?) (whoa there parentheticals), do a lot of hating on the US of A.

I got in an argument today.

And so, I have compiled a list of good things about America.

1. Americans are really friendly. In the summer of 2007, I went to Chicago with my parents. One night while my dad was at a dinner or a meeting or something (we were there for "work"), Mom and I went to explore Michigan Ave, shop, eat, do tourist things, et cetera. We literally somehow managed to strike up conversation with a stranger on a street corner, and she ended up GIVING us a POLAROID that she had taken of one of her favorite restaurants. Which was great, for the record. That doesn't happen in other places.
2. America is huge. So we have a lot of climates. Are there beaches in Canada? Okay, maybe. But are they nice? No.
3. Also, America is huge, so we have a lot of cultures. Being in New England and being in Mississippi and being in Los Angeles are not the same thing. And there are about a thousand places in between.
4. We're remarkably entrepreneurial. Bill Gates couldn't happen anywhere else. Neither could Google. Neither could Barack Obama.
5. I'm under the impression that we basically invented the middle class. Which is pretty cool.
6. We definitely invented suburbia (oh hey, Levittown). And usually I'm not a fan of sprawling nothingness, but I can explain why it could be considered a good thing: People who don't make a huge amount of money can have really nice houses. What I'm really trying to say, is that in America, you don't have to be wealthy to have a great life. And I feel like part of that phenomenon is due to the rise of suburbs.
7. We also invented the Bill of Rights. And while I'm still not a huge fan of bearing arms, freedom of religion is pretty sweet. Switzerland could have uses some of that a few months back, when the ban on minarets was voted-on. I'd like to believe such a resolution would never pass in America, although I can't be sure.
8. We have Michael Phelps.
9. We, collectively, really love our country.
10. I think the Revolutionary War was pretty badass. Also, I think the actual Boston Tea Party is something we should model our lives after (although, these people who would say they agree with me, are completely missing the point and need to suck it up. They are represented in Congress [unfortunately, but that's our awesome government that gives everyone a voice]. The colonists weren't bitching because they didn't get their way.) (Oh wait but some state did right before the Civil war.... Hey Tea Parties! Secede! I won't mind!) [Note: I don't actually think that's a good idea. Just clarifying.]
11. Our economy keeps everyone else's economies going. If we disappeared... that's a huge market, gone.
12. Hollywood is ours.
13. Americans are innovative.
14. Yeah we're fat... but... we don't smoke? Literally there's a direct inverse proportion between our smoking over time and our obesity over time. So, rock on for that.
15. Star Spangled Banner, apple pie, all of the cliches that we've grown to love.
16. We had a lot of wilderness that had yet to be explored.

Do you think I meant country matters?

I sat at Starbucks for two hours this afternoon finishing a math exam.

Then I watched Skins.

Love always,
Clara

kleine schanze

This is the park otherwise known as "Hooker Park", but that's only at night.

I knew if I came home today, I'd get distracted from my math exam (and here I am, blogging, so yeah, I was definitely right) so I spent a bit of time trying to make progress on it in the park.

So I walk into this park and there are benches everywhere and most of them are occupied, and I see the absolute perfect thing, which is a picnic table (and there's only one). So I start walking towards it, and then this random 20-something couple decides to sit down. So I have to awkwardly turn around and sit down at like, the closest possible place, which happened to be this weird quasi-bench thing. I figured they probably wanted to have a picnic or read a map or something, and I'd steal the picnic table away when they were done. So I pulled out my exam.

And it turns out, they don't use the table part of it at all; they're just nuzzling each other and whatnot, which they could totally have done on any old bench, including the one I was using, so I would have been happy to trade.

The only reason I know this is that every time I lost my math-focus I'd start wondering when they'd give up the table, or whether they'd left it yet, and I'd look over, and they'd be making out, and I'd feel like a giant creeper. I almost wanted to say to them, "I'm not trying to stalk your lovefest; I just really want that table."

Eventually my quasi-bench got unbearably uncomfortable so I figured I might as well sit in the grass, and I found this great spot against a tree. And then I realized that positioned that way, I was literally staring right at them every time I looked up.

And eventually they left and I stole the table but I figured out about thirty seconds later was that the reason they left was that the sun had moved so the table was in the shade. And it was freezing. They completely hogged the sunny table, which would have been lovely for math-exam-taking. I was (read: still am) bitter (read: randomly furious).

I seriously considered asking them to move so that I could have the table (which they totally weren't using), but I don't have enough faith in my german. I envisioned it going down something like this-

Me: Can I table use?

Couple: *confused looks*

Me: Can I... Your table?

Couple: *bewilderment*

Me: Ummmmm Auf Wiedersehen?

I also entertained the idea that I might sit down at the same table (because they were ONLY USING ONE SIDE OF THE BENCH-PART, SO THEY TOTALLY COULD HAVE BEEN ON A BENCH) and just start working and see if they felt awkward.

I was seriously *this* close.

And now I'm really angry that I didn't, because I really wanted to pleasantly do math work in the sun.

The only reason I'm not completely suicidal about this whole mess is that I saw a man with a beard and a top hat (a metal-looking top hat, if that makes sense. Not like it looked like it was made out of metal, but it was the sort of top hat that indicated that its wearer liked metal) riding a bicycle on my way home.

Also, random real conversation of the day-

Thomas: Is this in any way connected to what we were talking about?

Me: Yeah I'm getting to that part. Outdoor parties, is the point of this.

Thomas: Then why are you talking about Darfur?

Bonus points to the Potomac kids who can figure out where I was going with that.

Love always,
Clara

so um even more music?

I'm having a giant crazy music moment this week/month/year/life.

You know the drill.

Your Heart Is an Empty Room - Death Cab for Cutie

Broken Horse - Freelance Whales

Our Younger Noise - Letting Up Despite Great Faults

I Think You Know - Julia Nunes

Your Side Now - Trent Dabbs

August - Julia Nunes

North By North - Faded Paper Figures

One Thousand Nine Hundred and One Foks (immuzikation blend) - Phoenix, Peter, Bjorn, and John

Skinny Genes - Eliza Doolittle

I like that I started doing this in Nantucket in summer of 2008, because I was having a giant camp moment and wanted to download a whole sackful of music, and I was simultaneously going through my I-must-blog-every-single-thing-I-do phase.

And it stuck.

I like that.

Love always,
Clara

so profesh

I subbed a class today. Not even joking.

I'm sitting there by myself in the student lounge doing physics work (which is going to end up killing me, by the way) and I see Mr. B walk by and I sort of make friendly eye contact.

About three minutes later, he comes back and into the student lounge.

Mr B: Hey, what are you working on?

Me: Physics.

Mr B: Cool. I'm going to ask you something, and it's going to sound really bizarre.

Me: Alright.

Mr B: Will you sit and watch a class of eighth graders do their English as a Second Language work? I was looking for teachers to sub but everyone's busy, and I've got to go sub for a class myself, because four or five teachers haven't come in today. Sick or something.

Me: Ah, yes, the first day back from break. I think I pulled that once, in like, fourth grade.

Mr B: Yeah. So can you help me out?

I was already getting up. I figured, I could read my textbook just as well in a room full of eighth graders as I could by myself.

I get there; there are four of them. That's actually a pretty average class size at my school. I sit down and Mr B. introduces me as "You remember our... well, I was going to say student council member, but she was our talent show winner!" and the eighth grade guys sort of nod. They know me. I recognize some of them. One of them is Linus, this kid who was in my ski group for a couple days, the one that we all wanted to smack.

Super.

The first half hour was pretty uneventful. Then they finished their worksheets, and their other assignment was to study for a test they had the next day. The studying they were supposed to do, apparently, was to read stories from these little booklets and answer exceedingly obvious questions, such as "How did Miko feel when he saw the shark? a) afraid b) angry c) cheerful."

I decided it was time to intervene.

First I tried to read one of these (horribly written) stories aloud and critique the style. I couldn't even get through it.

Me: Okay, what's your test on?

Kid: Grammar. Prepositions.

Other kid: Can we play hangman?

Me: No. You guys should study. I'm going to tell you about Ms. Allen and the Scotty Dog and the Tree.

I think they were anticipating some kind of horrible condescending story.

Me: When I was in... sixth grade, our english teacher was named Ms. Allen. She was kind of retarded [sorry Ms. Allen. I really didn't like you] So this one day, we were learning about prepositions, and she had these little paper scottish terriers and she handed them out and she drew a tree on the board. And she wrote on the board, "The Scotty Dog runs _____ the tree." And we all had to think of words to fill in the blank, and those were the prepositions. But we were like, "what the hell is this? We're twelve. We are way too cool for this" because it really did seem pretty condescending. But we all went up and said useless things like "the scotty dog runs around the tree" and "the scotty dog runs beneath the tree" and... well, it does help you remember whether something is a preposition. It seemed pretty useless, but I do still remember it...

Then someone started singing Tik Tok, so I decided the best course of action would be to write the lyrics on the board, and have them identify the prepositions.

Wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy

Grab my glasses; I'm out the door; I'm gonna hit this city.

Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of jack

Cause when I leave for the night I ain't coming back.

After that we did "Right Round."

Kid: You should be a teacher.

Me: I'd get fired.

I feel like a lesson was learned today. That lesson being that if these kids were legitimately stimulated and educated by twenty minutes of humoring my ADD, there is a serious problem with this school.

Love always,
Clara

i guess my mom thinks i'm incapable of doing laundry

I got college papers and forms and such the other day, in the mail, which was awesome because I had literally been asking my dad every single day whether a package had arrived for me, for the past two weeks. International mail, by the way, is not ideal.

Anyway, the other night I was going through said forms with the parents and figuring out what to do with each of them. Mom got ahold of a pamphlet that mentioned a laundry service that's available.

Mom: Clara, there's a laundry service!

Me: Oh. Yeah. I'm going to do my own laundry though... I don't want to be like, the posh kid who can't do laundry.

Mom: Clara...

Me: What?

Mom: Is that realistic?

Apparently my mom doesn't think I have the ability/discipline/whatever-it-is-one-needs to do laundry on a regular basis. I told her I've been to camp, which means I've probably done laundry on my own five or six times.

It's not like it's hard!

She kept giving me these "Are you serious right now?" looks like it was so inconceivable that I would

a) Even know how to do laundry

b) Want to do it on my own when there is the option to have someone else do it for me.

Isn't college about learning life skills?

I told her Davidson had a near-mandatory laundry service. She said I should have gone there.

Today I did two physics labs, both involving a laser pointer. Chilidog and I had fun with that. Or, rather, I had fun with that, at Chilidog's expense.

Love always,
Clara

an awesome birthday and self-tanner

Apparently, wearing a slightly sparkly dress in a grocery store at 9 o'clock is a sketchy thing to do, judging by the creepy looks that just about every guy in the Migros gave me.

I was just buying a Coke!

I discovered a cool thing today that I will share, not because I think I'm some kind of expert beauty blogger or something, but because it's legit useful for the useless people among us. Myself included.

I have this tanning moisturizer. And it works. Well. Maybe a little too well, because I never rub it in enough, or the right way, or something, and I end up looking half-tan-half-not like some kind of freaky orange zebra.

I haven't had good experiences with self-tanners in general. I had always assumed the spray ones were more even, but I have had a chemical phobia since I was like, eleven, so spraying potentially toxic molecules all over my 8-square-foot bathroom did not ever feel like a good idea.

But it was spring of eighth grade, and the peer pressure was beginning to take hold. I'd gone skiing that spring break, so obviously that wasn't the best opportunity to work on remedying my paleness, so I figured I'd give tan-in-a-can a go.

I wake up the next morning looking like my legs got into a fight, but the bruises turned orange.

Now, if most people had such a disastrous self-tanning fail, they'd just cover up until it faded. I didn't even have that option. The school uniform in eighth grade was a kilt and a polo shirt.

And in the afternoon I had to play softball.

It was embarrassing.

Anyway, that was the worst, but not the last of my epic self-tanner escapades (because I have my mom's terrible pale irish skin, and I don't really tan naturally at all).

The point of this whole rant, is that I discovered today that if your tanning moisturizer is too legit, you can mix it with regular moisturizer, and then it's easier to rub it in because there's more of it.

Cool, right?

Anyway, I'm totally unashamed of the fact that I spend time thinking about these things.

Also, I'm wiped. Goodnight.

Love always,
Clara

notes on today

Grace has informed me that she is a "atheist liberal mormon" because she has, and I quote, "Mormon values."

This was a surprise to me. But... okay.

This was my last day of being seventeen. I went out to the brewery in Worb and had two beers and felt quite dizzy, because I'm one of the biggest lightweights in the world. It was fun.

I realized, walking home, that I never actually expected to ever be eighteen. I don't remember feeling this way about any other age- eighteen seems so foreign. It's in this weird realm of adulthood that, in relation to me, must be a huge joke.

Me? Adult? Excuse me, world, have we met?

That's what I was thinking about today, walking home from the tram stop in the twilight, still feeling a little lightheaded.

Tomorrow will be fun (aside from my 3 hour math midterm- online classes are super great, guys). Sunday too.

I'm just going to post one of my favorite songs right here, because I feel like it sums things up pretty well right now-

et cetera. I love that song. Independence, Indiana - Eddie from Ohio

I'm seriously listening to it on repeat right now. If you know me at all, you know what a big deal that is.

Anyway, I'm very tired and so I'm going to bed. Goodnight, bloglings.

Love always,
Clara

another withdrawal from my reserves of thomas-music

Thomas says he should get his own tag. He might be right. I will call it "Thomas's tunes" and it will be a cousin of "Samlet says" because both have undue influence on this blog.

Anyway, the latest batch:

Are You Satisfied - Marina and the Diamonds

Wish I Stayed - Ellie Goulding

Sigh No More - Mumford & Sons

Shampain - Marina and the Diamonds

Moneybox - Eliza Doolittle

Lump Sum - Bon Iver

Flume - Bon Iver

Come Back Home - Two Door Cinema Club

The Cave - Mumford & Sons

Blood Bank - Bon Iver

Beach Baby - Bon Iver

I Have Nothing - Noah And the Whale

Simplify - Marina and the Diamonds

I'm a fan. Also, Daphna has renewed my interest in Magic Man, so I've legit downloaded their album (it's free!). I still highly recommend it.

Love always,
Clara

FOUR DIGITS

This will be my thousandth post, according to my blogger dashboard.

Hot damn.

I remember starting this. I'd just come home from CTY in the summer of '08, and I had an internship with a venture capital fund, and I spent most of my days trying to figure out how much a clinical trial costs. That was literally my job- finding out how much clinical trials cost. For three weeks.

It was super.

At that same time, I was in the National American Miss state pageant (Junior Teen division), about which I lied to all of my friends and colleagues.

Venture Capitalist: So how was your weekend?

Me: Oh it was cool... I went on a trip... A college trip! I visited... UVA?

The pageant had an effect on me. At the very least, it drove home the point in my head that I am a spotlight-seeking attention-craving person, which is fine by me. It was about time I stopped denying it, anyway.

And then I read this article in Wired about Julia Allison and internet fame and I thought, "Well, I can do that." And I started a blog. This one.

So it was all an attention thing to begin with. And those beginning posts were awful. I had no idea what to say.

"Here's a youtube video I found of a lemur!"

"I'm only a little bit ashamed to be watching the Teen Choice Awards? I'm not sure whether I'm an entertainment blogger?"

"I bought shoes!"

"I'm in a bad mood. Oh wait, jk. I'm not wearing underwear."

That was my first month in a nutshell. And somewhere between then and now I think I've found my voice, and developed it quite a bit, and now here I am.

I feel so much more confident. Maybe that would have happened anyway. Correlation does not imply causality, after all. But I can't help but attribute a lot of my personality to this experience.

Example: I've always been a really awkward person. Ask anyone who's known me long enough (or anyone who's met me at all) and they will confirm this fact. But there was a point over the course of writing this blog when I realized that my awkward moments would be entertaining for someone who didn't have to endure them. And suddenly, the first thought I have after randomly changing my clothes in the middle of a grocery store* is "Well, that'll make a good 'Doing weird things in public' tag"

Ironically, although half the reason I started doing this was to get people to notice me, I've stopped caring so much what people think. The blog (and its readership) has become a trusted friend, and I'm going to tell you everything, no matter who's going to judge me for it. I don't care.

It helps that most of my readers are good friends anyway, but I know there are people out there, who I've never met, who read this with some consistency, and I feel like I can let them in.

It's made me honest.

And if I'm honest here, I might as well be honest in the real world too. Otherwise, what if I said something to one person, and then contradicted it over here, and then the person read about my contradiction? That would be awkward, and not in an "awkward anecdote of the day" kind of way, and so I'd rather avoid it.

So... I'm real with people.

Then there was this spring, and there was this summer, and I moved... and that marked the creation of the "mentally unstable clara" tag. I had so many nervous breakdowns, and you got to read about most of them. I'm almost proud of that- I'd never been one for appearing vulnerable. Who wants to do that?

But I did. I am vulnerable, and I revealed it over here, several times. And the world didn't crumble.

And who knew I'd love writing so much? I'd always been a math nerd, or a science nerd, or some other kind of distinctly non-english nerd. And here I go, writing away like some kind of... writer.

(Although the coherency of that last sentence should be proof that I am most certainly overestimating my abilities.)

In any case, whether I'm actually good at this or not, I like it a lot.

And so, dear readers, however many of you that there may be, thanks for reading. You guys keep me accountable, and I don't know what I would do if I didn't have this ridiculous compulsion to blog every day, at least once.

It's been a good thousand posts.

Here's looking forward to the next thousand.

Love always,
Clara

*I should explain this.

So, yesterday I went bowling with an assorted crowd, and it was really hot in Bern. I was wearing a jacket, a white flowy tanktop, and a black tanktop under the white one. So Chris and Danny and Robert and I walked up to the tram stop to meet Oren, and I took off my jacket. And I was still hot, and so someone suggested I take off my top-layer tanktop, which doesn't seem like that bad an idea. So I take it off and I put it in my purse.

About fifteen minutes later I decide I don't like the look of wearing jeans and a black wifebeater... I don't know. It just didn't suit me. So we went into the grocery store to buy red bull or something, and I was standing in line by myself (because we were racing, obviously). And I decide to put my other tanktop back on, so I take it out of my purse, set down my red bull(s) (don't judge) and pull it over my head.

The woman standing in line behind me gave me this bewildered look. I sort of smiled, in a "oh, you know how it is" kind of way, although I'm fairly certain she had no idea "how it is".

It was awkward. It was a weird thing done in public. And I blogged about it.

life is weird

Edward Burger: Did you know that there are people out there who absolutely hate having a square root in the denominator? Yeah. Those people are wacko. But suppose you're one of those people...

Thanks a lot, Edward Burger. Way to force the root-haters back into the closet. If I were one (which I'm not), I certainly wouldn't own up to it now.

Sorry I've been busy lately. Between having guests here and spring break and work stuff, I haven't had that much spare time on my hands lately. I've been blogging, but I haven't been doing interesting things for the past few days, and what I've found is that the blogging is better when I have something to say.

I've been eating chocolate and watching math videos. I'm now on a schedule to get all of my work done before I leave, which means I can have a week or so to study for APs when I go back to America.
I'm excited to go back, really.
But I was talking to someone about this the other day (I think she prefers to be unnamed but if she doesn't she can comment!) about this. We're both really excited for college, both going to places we are going to love. But at the same time, I for one feel myself wanting to drag my feet right now. College will come, but I'd kind of like to stay where I am for a little bit longer. I'm excited, but I'm not sure I'm quite ready. If everything would just slow down a little before the end of the year, that would be great.
But it's not going to.
And soon enough, I'll be thinking, "Oh thank god high school is over. College is awesome and I had nothing to worry about! Silly me!"
That's what I'm hoping will happen. That's what happened freshman year, after I spent the whole second semester of eighth grade freaking out.

So that's what's been going on with me lately. Crises all over the place.

Love always,
Clara

new computer!

Hooray!

The as-of-yet-unnamed 15" Macbook Pro was welcomed to the family yesterday, and his (her?) older brother Patrick has been showing him/her the ropes.

They got in a bit of a fight over transferring music, but I think they've mostly worked it out. I had to bribe them.

So now I've got skype back and I've got a disk drive (which I haven't had for months) and I've got super awesome video editing software so what I think I'm going to do is go bowling today, take lots of videos of that, and then make a tribute to ISB music vid, similar in many ways to St. Panther's School for the Insane, which youtube has decided to be a bitch about, which I am posting here.

Anyway, remember that? Good times. And I'm going to make another one. With my super-duper-editing-software.

I'm really excited.

I really should do more work though. Hm. What a predicament.

Love always,

Clara

presented without comment

(Via Jezebel)

o.m.g.

Love always,
Clara

ashamed of myself

I have too high expectations of my music taste.
First, a confession: I had never heard the Justin Bieber song "Baby" until today. I watched this (below).

I have to say, I love this guy's swagger while playing the recorder to a song originally performed by a 12 year old. But it's hard to fully appreciate this kind of cover unless you know the original, so I found this (below) in the "Related Videos"


I expected to dislike it. I don't know why. I like other Justin Bieber songs. I always expect not to like songs by Miley Cyrus, and then I listen to them, and then they get stuck in my head. Same for Demi Lovato, such that I think her songs have some kind of subconscious messaging telling me to do bad things (such as listen to Demi Lovato).
But I found this video completely adorable.

First of all, do all 8th-grade-dates take place in bowling alleys? It reminded me of the "Say OK" music video that I was in love with at the end of 9th grade (That's right, my musical sophistication started early)


And the dynamic between the poor heartbroken kid and Ludacris is adorable. It should be an advertisement for Big Brother/Big Sister. I've never seen Ludacris as cute as he is here, talking about his first love when he was 13 (Starbucks references! So culturally relevant!). And then he gives Justin Bieber a headlock! I kind of want to give both of them a hug.
And then there's a dance-off! Between the boys and the girls! Right there in the bowling alley! It all reminds me of West Side Story.
The words are so sweet too. I remember back in the day when everyone was as naive as I am, and we were all in love with each other, and we thought we'd figured things out. Good times, although it couldn't last, as Bieber finds out.
Of course our protagonist gets his 'Baby' back in the end of the video. I find it hard to imagine there is a 13 year old girl on the planet who would turn down Justin Bieber.
The moral of the story is that I need to stop overestimating my taste and just go with the flow. Clearly there is a 13 year old girl still living inside me, and she has very specific demands.
[For example, she demands that I mention that if I were in fact thirteen, I would find Justin Bieber adorable/sexy/whatever the kids are calling it these days. He's the Jesse McCartney of our times. I want you and your beautiful soul!]

Love always,
Clara

for the record, this is post 995

And it's a music binge!
I've recently been introduced to Freelance Whales. And by "been introduced," I mean "become obsessed."
So I highly recommend you give them a listen. They're well good.

Maybe I'll start picking up Thomas's verbal mannerisms. That could be interesting. I could be falsely southern ("y'all") and falsely british ("proper good") at the same time.

Anyway, without further ado, my new music:

Set Yourself on Fire - Stars
Hannah - Freelance Whales
Location - Freelance Whales
Ghosting - Freelance Whales
Metropolis - Faded Paper Figures
Starring - Freelance Whales
Make Light - Passion Pit
Moth's Wings - Passion Pit

Oh, and also for the record, I won the argument with my parents. They're currently in the car on their way to wherever they're going, and I'm at home. Hooray for that. I'm taking care of the dog and welcoming my cousin. I was definitely needed here.

Love always,
Clara

i'm tired and ranting

I got maybe 4 hours of sleep last night, so forgive my over-emotional rambling.

So my parents want me to go to Europark with the family.

That's about as sad as going to Disney world with your parents, above the age of 12. Which is pretty sad, in my opinion.

I'm lobbying to stay home, especially because I'm only in Switzerland for another month and I'd like to hang out with my swiss friends as much as possible during that time. And I'm swamped with work.

The complication to this is that my mother, I think, might be some kind of sexist.

She's decided that the singular reason I want to stay home is because I want to hang out with Chris. Or because Chris is "pressuring" me into staying home. Or because he wants to kidnap me and drag me away from my family into his evil canadian lair.

I find this insulting.

Seriously, is it that hard to conceive that I would have a thought of my own, despite the fact that I'm in a relationship? My mom knew me when I was 13 and boy-crazy and I'm not sure she's aware that I'm aware that being a silly 13 year old girl really only works when you're 13.

I have original thoughts!

She's underestimating me.

I hate being underestimated.

I also just don't want to spend several days stuck with my family. I'm sorry. I like my family. I do. But, as I've tried to explain, I'm seventeen and the way it works is that I'm going to value my relationships with my friends more than my family for a little while.

And I really don't want to lose touch with these kids. I'm not getting rid of my family any time soon, but when I go off to college, who knows whether I'll talk to the swiss crew again?

So that's something. God, I hate moving. I did it once, and I went through all of that, and it sucked, and I got here and I hated it, and then I got used to it, and then I got to really like it, and now I'm leaving again.

As much as I'm excited to get back to the 703, I'm going to miss Switzerland more than I'd anticipated.

I turn eighteen in a week. Expect all sorts of adventures.

Love always,
Clara

there aren't really words

... to describe today.

Here are the general events-

• Wake up
• Go to video rental place
• Go to chocolate store
• Eat lunch
• Go home.
• Meet people at the train station.
• Come back to my house; watch Jennifer's Body
• Be generally awkward, chillin at my home
• Go to a barbeque and play pool
• Hang out in Bern

That's the day, in a very small nutshell.

Jennifer's Body was a phenomenal movie, by the way. It was the perfect combination of hilarious, terrifying, and sexual.

Really great movie.

Also, I am sick and tired of people being disrespectful to my dog. Just because he's a little tiny teddy bear, that doesn't mean he's not a real dog!

Remember guys, no dogs means "no dogs".

Love always,
Clara