Winter Migratory Habits of the Palalius Studentis

Palalius studentis

common in Western Coastal suburban environments, usually in communities proximal to prestigious universities

12/18/08

Startling new evidence has come to light that the migratory habits of the Palalius studentis are evolving and changing, as published in a recent study. More and more of these rare creatures are resisting their innate urge to embark upon a ritual and traditional migration during the approximately 2-3 week period before the Great Study Session, which precedes the tribal evaluations that mark the Semesterial End of Academic Cognitiation at the Tribal Academy.

Several members of the species, using a combination of sign language and grunts, were able to convey their own feelings on the subject of migration and whether or not they will be performing this sacred ritual. 

NOTE: Translations may be slightly irregular due to the bulk of research having been performed in Kazakhstan.

Specimen 1, age 17: We will linger within our cottage and merely journey out of doors to locations that rest near at hand.

Specimen 2, age 15: I betake of myself to Beirut which is conveniently situated inside the sovereign state of Lebanon.

Specimen 3, age 14: I will not venture to a foreign clime, but rather reside directly in this spot.

Specimen 4, age 14: Los Angeles. (English: the village where habit the divine messengers and also the VIPs)

Specimen 5, from a neighboring tribe, age 16: Whilst at present I exist lodged in the interior of Oregon, I forsee myself proceeding into the zone encircling this city of the Sacred Mento. The reason I forsee myself voyaging to this location is owing to the fact that it is populated by my granny.

[Seventeen more specimens were interviewed, but they were unable to coherently answer interview question. Several became violent and began uprooting trees and flinging nearby objects at our researchers. It was concluded by the Kazakhstan lab team that this clearly signified that the specimens were in fact staying in their village during the winter months.]

Experts are worried by the implications of this extreme shift in what appeared to be a static societal institution in the classic hierarchy of this civilization. Several even went as far as to question the credibility of the data. However, Dr. Onevorschkiyeviblinsk, the head researcher in the Kazakhstan lab, has assured his fellow scientists that there could not possibly have been any discrepancies in the data collection processes nor in the subsequent translations that yielded the final conclusions, nor were any Palalius studentis specimens harmed in the research performed.

- Dmitri Gulyible, Kazakhstan News Service

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is bittersweet this year.

My thoughts are with the victims of terrorist attacks carried out yesterday on a hotel in Mumbai. The weather's a little gloomy. Piracy is still apparently rampant on the high seas; at least in Somalia. Jon Stewart won't have any new material until December 1. And the economy - well, you know.

But on the sweet side, we don't have school until Monday, I'm about to go stuff myself with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, three kinds of pie and four kinds of popcorn, I'm going to see Twilight with my friends this weekend, Ms. Sarah Palin is staying where she belongs in Alaska (so far), and we have an incredible new administration ready and waiting to get in there and start FIXING things.

I invite you to post your Thanksgiving thoughts, wishes, hopes, comments, shoutouts, admonitions, or anything else that happens to be going through your head on this wonderful autumn day.

Have a fantastic Thanksgiving!

PYIC Attendees: Watch and Vote!

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**If you're going to the Presidential Youth Inaugural Conference this January, vote for this video! 

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Homecoming '08!

"Dance moves" is an oxymoronic phrase at Paly dances. Students are squished together so tightly on the floor of the gym that there's barely room to move enough to convince the parent chaperones that you are alive; I don't know how they expect to discern which dancers may have been under the influence.

Speaking of which, I almost failed my breathalyzer test. Not because I'd been drinking, but because I kept blowing incorrectly. The kind breathalyzer lady told me to blow into the funnel on the end of the air-horn shaped device just like I would if I was blowing out birthday candles. I blew. She was silent.

Oh my God, am I going to test positive for alcohol? Did the breath mint I just had somehow set off the trigger? I wasn't drinking, I swear it!

She peered at the air horn. "Blow harder," she said. I did.

She sighed. "Go on in."

After talking with several other breathalyzer virgins (who made up approximately 92% of my completely unbiased sample), I found comfort in the fact that I was not the only one who was seemingly incapable of blowing out birthday candles. One sophomore said that when she tried for the third time to get the device to register her breath, the administrator operating the breathalyzer snapped, "Moving your head around won't help anything. Look, blow on my hand."

But despite the indignities suffered, the procedure did seem to work the way it was intended to.

Two of Paly's assistant principals confirmed independently that there were no positive breathalyzer tests (although there was a rumor floating around the dance floor of at least one) and Assistant Principal Jerry Berkson maintained that the dance policy was much easier to enforce this year. "I've found that alcohol is a major contributor to raunchy dancing," he said, "and breathalyzers have really helped this year."

Assistant Principal Kim Diorio estimated over $3500 in ticket sales for a ticket count of 700, a figure substantiated by Principal Jacqueline McEvoy. According to Ms. Diorio, that number is about the same as last year. 

Of course, this means that demand for tickets has actually fallen among, to quote a certain vice-presidential candidate, "real" Paly students, and it is only the extra 100 freshmen who have made up the difference.

But I don't begrudge the freshmen. They've provided us with a number of really amusing amazing dancers. I caught up with one of them - actually, I yelled questions at him over the music and he tried to yell back but I missed most of what he said (like his name). His style of dancing is quite unique and really fun to watch; it's a combination of octopus arm movements and moonwalking. Apparently, this new genre was developed quite recently; the man with moves like an extraterrestrial mollusk didn't go to any dances at Jordan, although he did go to the first Paly dance.

And so ended the 2008-09 Paly Homecoming Dance. Congratulations to Homecoming Queen and Senior Spirit Commissioner Lucy McComas, and to her male counterpart, whose name I did not catch.

Has the administration hit on the right balance between control and freedom, inconvenience and safety? Only you can say, but what I can say is, live from Palo Alto, that was Saturday night.

PSAT: Are you ready?

Paly juniors this week are preparing to take the PSAT, a test that (supposedly) gives students an idea of how they will score on the all-powerful SAT, the mother of all tests.

Time was, anyone from the freshman with the overachieving parents to the senior who wanted one more practice round before the real deal could take the PSAT. This year, the Paly administration has decided to limit testing strictly to juniors.

The majority of freshmen, sophomores, and seniors probably couldn't care less, and I'm looking forward to that 10:45am Wednesday start time just as much as the next kid.

But shouldn't anybody be able to take the test if they want to?

Being a true Palo Alto kid, I trekked over to the tower building as soon as I heard about the test to ask the kind guidance staff if I could possibly take the PSAT this year. Pretty please?

This is what I got: "No. You'll have to make arrangements at another school."

Pause.

Um, could you maybe tell me which schools are allowing us lowly sophomores to partake in the sacred ritual of the PSAT? Give me a phone number? An email? A website? A name? Anything?

"No." Pause. We stared at each other.

Then, "I'm sorry. I don't know which other schools are offering it."

Um, lady, you're the supreme head of all standardized testing at Paly. You're sitting in front of a computer. There is a phone two inches from your right hand. And you can't make one call so that you can at least tell every overachieving Paly sophomore about another school to which they could pay money to sit for hours and take a test they don't really want to take anyway?

I left. We'd said all there was to be said. Well, I'd thought it, anyway.

Of course, there are legitimate reasons for the administration's decision. Yeah, there are a lot of Paly kids who'd like to take the PSAT. (Those extra 100 freshmen always ruin everything! :-) Yeah, that means more work for whoever fills out and files PSAT registration forms. Yes, I suppose if you really wanted to, you could make the warm-and-fuzzy-feel-good case that taking the PSAT as a sophomore and flunking it would kinda lower your self esteem.

But come on now. Kids as young as 7th grade are allowed to take the SAT! The real deal! And we, three years older, can't rely on our school to help us take the practice test? There isn't a way to register online for this test, like there is for the SAT. Collegeboard says, and I quote, "This test is administered by high schools, not through test centers. Online registration for the PSAT/NMSQT is not available."

It's like telling a 5-year-old at Great America that if they really want to go on Xtreme Skyflyer, they can go buy a ticket over there at the window. But a 10-year-old? No, you can't go on the carousel. You'll get hurt if you fall off the horse.

Eye Contact: The Presidential Debate

Pundits have been saying for days that this debate would not be about what the candidates said, but how they said it and what their body language was like.

I think most people could agree that the debate was fairly equal in terms of substance; if you agreed with one candidate at 5:59pm, your opinion was no different at 7:31.

Jim Lehrer started off by encouraging the candidates to speak directly to each other. It was a legitimate request; Barack Obama and John McCain know each other. They've worked together in the Senate.

Obama immediately picked up on this and was completely open and direct in his body language. He addressed McCain directly as "John" and called him out when he strayed from the truth.

By contrast, McCain never even looked at Obama.

He directed all of his comments to Lehrer and never once called Barack by name. Obama might as well not have been there.

McCain's message was pretty clear. As far as he was concerned, Obama wasn't really there. And if he was, he certainly wasn't worthy of consideration.

If McCain was coached on this, and he most certainly was, that was very carefully calculated to send a certain message to the American people.

Now, not having a TV myself, I went to watch the debate in a hotel bar. After it was done, I talked with a hotel worker about the outcome. He said he thought both candidates were crazy, but he also said, "I just couldn't vote for Obama. I don't trust him."

And even though you didn't say it, you knew why.

And it's scary. It's scary that America is so racist. If we can't make the right decision, I'm all for California seceeding from the union.

Arnold can be our president.

And you know what the really scary thing is?

I'm not kidding.

UPDATE: If anyone saw Sarah Palin's interview with Katie Couric: Why does Sarah call her running mate by his full name? Are they not even on first-name terms yet? Yikes.

Palo Alto's Party of the Year

A golden September twilight was sprinkled throughout the air. The light slowly faded into a shimmering darkness, illuminated only by occasional laughter and clinking of glasses. This being a Tuesday night, I had math homework, endless ions and compounds to memorize, and a complex number quiz to study for, but I could not have cared less.

I had just shaken hands with an Oscar-winner, a Nobel Peace Prize recipient, and the former vice-president of the United States of America.

I'd just met Al Gore.

My luck had come from a friend with connections to a certain company known for the incredible gourmet food it serves its employees, not to mention one of Silicon Valley's best-known companies.

The food at the party wasn't bad, but the company was phenomenal. You couldn't walk two steps without bumping into the CEO of FedEx, the author of a bestselling childrens' book series, or at least two journalists from the New Yorker. Barack Obama and Lance Armstrong had been on the guest list as well, but couldn't make it; Obama because he was down in LA at precisely that time at a fundraiser with his own celebrities, and Lance because he's busy training for his announced 2009 comeback to competitive cycling.

I forced myself to calm down as I stood a few feet away from the man who had been mere hanging chads from being the leader of the free world. Finally, he turned and fixed me with a piercingly intense stare. "It's such an honor to meet you," I said.

"Best of luck to you," he replied.

I already thought I was a pretty lucky girl. But a little extra from Al Gore doesn't hurt.