12 February 2013

Last Friday was the AcaDeca Awards night. It was amazing, even though I didn't medal in anything.
We're actually 20th out of the 58 schools. Still pretty good, in my mind. One of my closest friends got a Bronze medal in Interview; one of the seniors got a gold medal in interview and a bronze in speech (I think, I might be wrong); and my boyfriend (that was awkwardly typed, just so you know) got a silver medal in speech, a honorable mention in essay and he was the top scoring student of our team.

To tell you the truth, I was really upset that I didn't medal. I cried for a long time and I did resent my teammates for a bit. I have this thing that I have to be the best at everything. It comes with being a dancer and a student in the highly competitive Magnet. In dance, you have to better than everyone to even be noticed. To tell you the truth, there's been many a time that I've hoped for or relished in someone's mistake. And it seems like I'm a horrible person, I know.
But you don't understand. I grew up in the environment where I needed to be the best. I was found "gifted" at an early age. This led to my placement in the "more advanced" classes surrounded by children of the same mental capacity. My fourth grade teacher instilled such a love for reading that ever since, I've been a literature geek.
The Odyssey? Age nine. Bullfinch's Mythology? Age ten. Edith Hamilton's Mythology? Age eleven. Pride and Prejudice? Age 12. The Scarlet Letter? Age 13. Doctor Zhivago? Age 16 but I read it three times: the first in a week, the second to understand the book and the third to actually analyze and iron out all the inconsistencies in my mind.
From the same education that gave me a love for literature, I also got a love for history. What interests me so much about books full of someone else's story and another country's story is that even though all of it happened in a world from long ago, they will forever be remembered. They will forever have their name printed in a book that brags about their accomplishments. Isn't that amazing? Imagine, if I do something big enough to span decades and centuries, a girl or boy in the future will have to forever remember my name and what I've done.

I'm done with my life story. For now...