my name is latu and i am a high school drop out

when i was 11 years old, i was in the 6th grade. my teacher was named mrs. day. she was a wide-eyed, bushy-tailed, first year teacher. looking back now, i am sure she was convinced she would conquer the world, one impressionable child at a time. she started out the school year by letting us know she had driven by our houses the week before. there was no explanation or justification. she just let that loom in the air. i knew for a fact my house was the most ghetto in the class. i was the only one in my class from the poor area in our school boundary. the other kids were from richer neighborhoods slash were rich. :) at least to a poor 11 year old!

mrs. day paid me lots of attention, right from the beginning of the year. the unfortunate thing is that the last thing i wanted as an 11 year old was attention from my teacher. at the time, i felt like she hated me and picked on me. if there was a teacher's pet (which there most definitely was) i was the opposite. while other children had the opportunity to turn in assignments late, the teacher was very strict about the late assignment policy with me. i spent countless reward days or holidays working by myself in another classroom, unable to participate in whatever the class was doing. i was not disrespectful; i was still much too young to understand that i could do what i wanted at school, even if the "rules" forbade it.

on a field trip, the class waited in line to get our sack lunches out of the box. when my turn came in the line, i grabbed my lunch, rather than wait for her to hand it to me. she thought that was proof that i cut the line, and made me go to the back; ignoring my pleas that it was really my turn. instead, i walked off and cried by myself. i didn't eat lunch that day. i was so embarrassed and felt so hopeless because she hadn't even listened to me. i wrote book reports about books i had read, and was told the books were too childish for a 6th grader (at least one of them was a book i read with my friend in the class. it wasn't too childish for her) i was often not allowed to go to computers, as i was behind on my work. i wasn't allowed to check out reading books for the same reason (i needed to focus more on my school work)

one chilly day, i forgot an assignment at home. terrified that i would not be able to turn it in late, i decided to run home and grab the assignment. i was 20 minutes late, and the teacher took me outside to talk about my "attendance problem". mind you, i was a naive 11 year old CHILD. i was trying, and it did not seem like she saw it at all. i had no idea that you could stand up for yourself to adults, that everything they said was not gospel truth. i didn't know that i could tell my mom what all was going on, how i felt about this teacher, how much i hated school. i really just thought that if your teacher hated you, you were so outta luck.

in my eyes, that teacher was evil. i came to hate her. during christmas break, i envisioned creative ways i could have a class change. i plotted ways to get her to like me, but in the end i basically gave up. i endured the last half of the year, but i hated every moment of it. school stopped being fun and became monotonous and a punishment. recess was my only solace, and i became depressed. for the first time in my life, i was failing at something. i hated the feeling and i hated the teacher.

that feeling moved on with me from 6th to 7th grade. 7th grade was a ridiculously hard grade for me. but, rather than dutifully attend, i began to just sleep through my morning classes. in one term (with about 45 days) i had 27 absences and 16 tardies in my first period class. it became painfully obvious that i had not learned anything in math or science from 6th grade. this sounds really dramatic, but i truly feel that 6th grade year set the stage for the rest of my academic failure. i struggled all through 7th and 8th grade. 9th grade was better, but only because i had one amazing teacher. and high school. let's not get into high school or the reasons i dropped out with three packets to complete and in the last week of school my senior year.

the point is that until my 6th grade year, school was fun. it was a place that i excelled at, a place i felt safe. after my 6th grade year, my perspective changed and school became a punishment. i did not see the point in trying anymore. i know that a lot of people feel basically the same way, but a lot of people did not have the experience i had with mrs. day. no matter the argument, 6th grade changed my life.

a few years ago, my mom filled in some blanks for me in the mrs. day story. i guess during a parent-teacher conference (no, not the ones where you bring your parents into the classroom and show off your desk and artwork. the kind where you stay outside the classroom and your mom meets with the teacher by herself) mrs. day let my mom know that she felt i was not living up to my potential. thus, she (as a first year teacher with no children) decided she would "push latu" so that i could meet my potential. i don't know what exactly she was pushing me towards, but you can be sure that, as a high school dropout and (now) statistic, i did not meet her potential. i have thought for a long time that i didn't hate her, but i would mos def tell anyone who asked what a bad teacher she was. i guess no one's asked yet. i am just telling anyways.

knowing this has put so many things into perspective. mrs. day hadn't hated me. i was just her project. i am sure she saw me as the perfect storm; minority, poor, a girl. she was going to change my life. she was a brand-spanking new teacher, and she already had found the perfect project child. while i am sure her intentions were good, she truly did not understand me or anything about basic child psychology. she did not understand the damage you can do a child by making them a failure. by planting the seeds of hopelessness and despair in a child. i am one of the 10.3% of american high school students that dropped out in 2004. quite the statistic to be proud of.

i never saw mrs. day after 6th grade. i believe she moved out of state because her husband had finished school. i strongly feel like if mrs. day wanted children she could "push" toward their potential, she should have taught high school. at least those kids know for sure that adults are not perfect.

stupid cancer

hi. my name is latu and i'm an obsesser. i obsess about basically everything, but at any given time, i have a huge obsession that occupies most of my time. depending on the time, it's been different things. this summer, i obsessed about my school schedule for the fall. i ended up making over 2,000 changes to my schedule. and i only knew that because the system locked me out as i was trying to make even more. i had to go into school and talk to the director of something (and by talking to her, have to deal with her biotch of a secretary, who was wearing a waaaay too short skirt...) and find out that i broke the system by making over 2,000 changes in a single semester... i was the second person to ever do it. i felt awesome :)

my current obsession is brain cancer. i constantly troll through blogs and websites, looking for brain cancer stories. i have subscribed to a brain cancer mailing list and get updates on various people and their brain tumors. one thing that has amazed me since joining is the sheer amount of people who have been absolutely crippled by brain cancer. i read heartbreaking stories (and even more heartbreaking obituaries) about people who had their first brain tumors years and years ago or people newly diagnosed. the most harrowing was a girl my own age, who had medulloblastoma-- the same type of cancer as masey--when she was 3. back then, she was an absolute miracle because she made it out of surgery and was studied by doctors around the country because she made it past the 5 year mark from diagnosis.

as a result of her treatments, this girl was severely mentally retarded, paralyzed from the waist down and suffered many health problems including heart failure, seizures, the loss of both kidneys and a subsequent transplant, and a liver transplant, to name a few. you see, back when she received the ground-breaking treatment that saved her life, doctors did not really understand the late-effects of large amounts of radiation to the brain of a toddler. they did not understand that in order to avoid damage to organs like the kidneys and liver, chemotherapies could not be given alone. they need adjuvants to off-set some of the effects. in some cases they just did not know that besides curing cancer, radiation and chemotherapy causes cancer.

this girl was a miracle. she survived the draconian cancer practices back then, but she most definitely paid a price for that survival. she died peacefully in her sleep last month after being diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia (AML) a secondary cancer that came as the result of treatment of her original brain cancer. the world of childhood cancer treatments have made leaps and bounds since this girl underwent her first treatment, but it still has leaps and bounds to go.

since masey started his cancer journey, i have been humbled and so grateful for the faceless masses who went before. for the children who found out the hard way that radiation to the brain can cause mental retardation. for the children who have lost kidneys because cysplatin was the only option to kill their brain tumors. for the children who have gotten aml from cytoxan. for the children who suffered the agony of a brain tumors before we knew that steroids would reduce the swelling and pain. for all the children who have gone before. these children have been a constant thought in my mind. without knowing, without consenting, their experiences have silently effected masey's experience.

i am constantly grateful for those children. after hearing the girl my age's experience, the silent horde of children has a face. has a story. is so much more real.

today, mason is not free from the side effects of cancer. he'll never get the hearing back he lost. he has the potential to lose more. the years to come may bring with them learning disabilities. he may never move beyond a 4 year old's mental development. we will always cringe when mri time comes around or when he throws up or gets a headache. the fear will be a constant companion. masey will never get back the childhood he's missing while he spends his days quarantined in the safety of our house or in a hospital bed. he will wear emotional scars for his whole life. a part of his personality will be forever changed. there is still the potential for heart, kidney, liver problems or secondary cancers.

but he is here. my little bestie is here. anything else that comes along for him is absolutely do-able. and i'm sure he'll do it with his same smile and carefree attitude. it's nothing compared to what he's already done.

cancer happened. cancer sucks. but our lives will go on.

people talk

so, i feel like all humans have the desire to talk. maybe not talk, but communicate. they want to connect with other humans and allow the thoughts in their minds to find legs and walk to the person next to them. whether it is a baby crying, a person so sick that all they can do is squeeze a hand or blink their eyes, we want to be connected to the world. a lot of the time, i feel like this blog is my connection to the world.

sometimes, i just want to communicate. i don't care that no one reads or responds. i don't care that my words are not profound or world-changing. i just want to communicate. a lot of the time, the things i have to say are really hard to say. so i write them. when i am in the mood, words flow out of my fingers like water. it's a hard sensation to describe; it just happens. i always sit down to the computer, or in the rare instances i am without one, a piece of paper. and i write. i never know what will come out, and it never ends up the way i think it will at the beginning, but i write like my life depends on it.

when i write, i feel a connection to the real world. a connection to the whole world. there is just something so liberating and exciting about knowing that anyone in the world can read what i have to say. maybe they'll completely agree and i will find my life twin. maybe they'll hate what i have to say. maybe they'll never even read it. but, i like knowing that they have the possibility is out there.

i guess that is why i blog. i am not a huge fan of sharing my thoughts and emotions with people (unless i am mad, in which situations i should work on not sharing) i am not the person who seeks out anyone to talk to, other than my mother. i don't like that type of interaction. but i love blogging. i am basically guaranteed no one will read it, but at the same time everyone can. it's like the best of both worlds.

that being said, i have noticed a ridiculous amount of people coming to me to confide in me lately. i am not sure why, but that thought spawned this post. so, you're welcome, world!!

fires and Jesus fish

so, i decided to spend my precious break from school by visiting my grandpa in malad. it was AWESOME!! in every way. well, except one. while i was there, my computer decided to burn up. no, like literally started smoking/a fire. luckily (can you really call that luck. maybe a blessing) it was not until about 90 seconds after i walked into the room (for the first time that day) and picked it up that it decided to self destruct. it was like 2 am, and my grandpa was long asleep, so i did the most logical thing i could think of. i called pene, then began to tear that sucker apart. i mostly wanted to see what exactly had started the fire, and just what my laptop looked like in general. that plan kind of sucked, though. all of the tiny screws on the bottom of the laptop were stripped (it's entirely possible that i stripped them myself with a giant screwdriver....) so i resorted to prying different compartments open with a screw driver.

it was a pretty long process, and in the end i stopped because i got paranoid that i would die of mercury/lead poisoning. i had known the computer was dying, it was pene's for like two years before i ever got my hands on it, but it was still bittersweet. i had just mastered the perfect angle/pressure i had to apply to the screen to get it to work. i had mastered the hold to apply if the fan stopped working, or if the internet went in and out. I knew the exact amount of time to let it warm up before attempting to actually do anything on it, and the specific angle to plug in the charger to ensure an actual charge. r.i.p., heavy, old, slow laptop. i'm trading you up.

in other news, apparently one poster on ksl listened to my advice. i bought a car this weekend. it was marvelously cheap, passed inspection and emissions, has a "noise", leaks transmission fluid and engine oil. it was probably a drug car, as all of the door panels are broken and there is no fabric stuff on the ceiling. it smells of smoke, and had an ashtray FULL of cigarette butts (who knew people still used ash trays??) it's got rust and a born again type Jesus fish on the trunk (wow, that may be offensive) speaking of the trunk, the lock cylinder has been taken out, and i cannot figure out how to open it without it. if anyone feels like they want to assist, feel free to let me know. despite any of that, it was quite a steal, and i kinda like it. or, i will like it once i get a strong enough air freshener to convince myself it was not smoked in. if i had a smart phone, or a camera phone, i would take a picture. if anyone is interested, google "1995 ford taurus" and then imagine the results without a shiny paint job (dark green, or maybe dark blue)

let's see... i also spent a week with my sister talia's kids. because she has marvelous flight benefits, she spent the week in seattle, making earrings, seeing les mis, going to this sweet lady's baby shower, and sleeping for outrageous amounts of time, from what i hear. at home, i enjoyed eating out every night, braving chucky cheese's (what can i say, i needed a good bribe) and just playing the role of stand-in mother.

i found a job (two, actually...) and need to go to the dermatologist. i have a big old mole just under my left eyebrow, and i am now convinced it is cancerous (drama much?) so, i am going to need to have it cut off/biopsied. this sounds vaguely familiar... :)

um, i guess that is all for now...i don't expect i will be posting much this semester, i am taking 18 credits and working 1.5 jobs. peace out, peeps!  :)

An open letter..

To the 40,612 people with car ads on KSL tonight:

So, you are wanting to sell your car? Getting married, joining the army, going off to school, need the money, got in an accident, bought a new one, found out you were cheated and want to turn the tables? Whatever your reason, good job finding KSL. The entire world that is Utah commerce runs on KSL. You're bound to find a buyer. Here are just a few pointers, which I have compiled during my own search for a used car.

First and foremost: the CARS section of KSL is for cars which are for sale. We do not care to hear the sob story about why you need a van that seats 12, runs perfectly and has a wheelchair lift for $50 or less. We do not care that you are looking for a specific shade of lime green VW Bug. We do not care that you are selling your awesome tires/system/floor mats.  There are wanted/auto parts sections for posts like that.

If your car payment is over $500/month, what on earth makes you believe someone on KSL wants to take over payments rather than go out and buy their own new, overpriced car?

If your car needs the following, it cannot be said that your car "runs great":
head gasket
transmission
engine
fuel pump
muffler
radiator
thermostat
carburetors
tires
catalytic converter
clutch
gas tank
ball joints
tie rods
axle

The phrases "runs great" and "needs work" are mutually exclusive. Related is this: If you put a phrase like "needs work" or "needs TLC" in your ad, explain!! It will take you literally moments of your life.

Your totaled  car without a scrap of still-smooth metal, is not worth $1,000. Even if the engine (which appears to have gone through a metal crusher) were working, it is not worth $1,000.

You are attempting to sell an item worth hundreds or thousands of dollars. Would it kill you to a) post pictures and b) post non fuzzy, actually useful ones?  Related, if your ad contains phrases like "will post pics soon" or "as you can see from the pics" and you have not put up pictures, you really are just looking stupid.

A car does not "run great right up until it wouldn't start this morning". There were warning signs. You are just too uneducated to have spotted them, or think we are stupid enough to believe you.

Your transmission/engine/tires/ball joints are not "new" or "just replaced" after 76,000 miles.

No matter how many flowery, happy words you use, $1,500 is not a "newly lowered price" for a 1967 VW Beetle without an engine or tires.

Your car is not worth blue book. End of story. I am not kidding. End of story.

If you have posted your ad more than 10 times in the past few days and no one has called, your car may be overpriced. Please stop posting it until you lower your price (see above advice before determining a price)

So, you got duped into paying $1,500 for a 1988 Corolla that needs a new transmission and head gasket? I am sorry. Not because you were duped, but because you believe you can dupe another buyer into the same trap. Unfortunately, from my experience you may be correct.

It is irrelevant that you have put over $5,000 into the car in repairs the last year. We will all assume everything you do not tell us is broken, works. Your car's value does not increase by the amount you put into it.

In contrast, your car's price should decrease according to the amount of work required to pass safety/IM. People who recognize this are not low balling you. Please stop amending your ads to discourage "low ball offers".

O.B.O. means or best offer. This is an optional phrase. Do not use it unless you are willing to accept less than the list price.

Your 1957 Dodge truck does not get 35 mpg. Please stop trying to make jokes.

The car's in SEATTLE?? W.T.F.?!?! I really have no idea why you are posting on KSL. There are plenty of overpriced, under-performing cars here in Utah.

"I don't have the title, but it is legit" is about the LEAST legit phrase I've ever read in a posting. Possibly illegal, even.

Lastly, if you state in the ad that you prefer to be called/texted/emailed, please be sure that your preferred type of contact info is provided in the ad. "TEXTS ONLY" is only possible when you leave your number. If you want a phone calls only and insist on screening your calls, please clean out or set up your mailbox. Both of those notices are rather annoying to hear from an automated voice.

My fellow KSLers, I really do wish you good luck. I hope that you find the perfect car or the perfect buyer.

Also, thanks for immediately applying my advice to your current and future ads,

Latu

(If there is any doubt as to the legitimacy of the advice above, please spend a few days/weeks trolling KSL for a car and get back to me. But, don't say I didn't warn you)

ketsup

well, it's been a while since i have posted (again) so i figured i'd throw in a catch up post. i've been pretty busy lately, mostly with school. i have an astronomy class this block and an online english class. i hate/love them both. i hate my astronomy class because the teacher is old school. the kind of old school that assumes everyone is taking his class for the intrinsic educational benefit, not merely to satisfy a general requirement. what this means is lots of homework. and really hard tests. don't get me wrong, astronomy is basically the most fascinating class ever, but it is annoying when i have so much homework. i love that my english class is online and i do not have to commit to a specific class time. i hate that it is online and i do not have to commit to a specific class time :) i realized that i do not have the willpower or the desire to take online classes. i need the accountability of a teacher, physically present, to do well.

i also have decided/realized that it is time to get a job. i cannot justify not having one anymore, and need to be able to have money, honey! no, but for reals, i need a job. :) if you know anyone hiring part time, afternoon work, in orem or northern provo, let me know! i'm down for anything except traveling far :)

i got a puppy. i have always wanted one. i figured it was something i would do when i got married and had some kids. well, seeing as i am officially closer to 30 than 20, i figure my days of waiting are over. as anyone who read about my dog dying knows, i am a new convert to lap dogs. i got a papillon/pomeranian/maltese mix. he looks suspiciously like chiefi, but really only because they are both fur balls. his name is captain, but i like to call him cappie. my dad calls him tevolo (devil) because he has one blue eye and one black. whatever his name, he is cute and i like the little fur ball.

i saw a show the other day that has really stuck with me. i don't really know why, except that it was incredibly sad/impressive.  it was about a mother grey whale and her baby who were being attacked by a pod of orcas/killer whales. the orcas attacked them for almost 4 straight hours before the mother and baby were able to swim close enough to shore that the orcas would not be willing to attack anymore. the orcas attack was pretty simple; swim down deep, then speed directly into the side/head of the baby, hoping to cause internal damage with the blows. another tactic was to just eat chunks of his fins while he was alive. you see, even a baby grey whale is too big for an orca to bite through. the most amazing part to me was at one point, the mother whale turned on her back and lifted her baby onto her stomach so the orcas could not hurt him anymore. i guess it is important to note that she could not breathe in this position and had not eaten for something like 9 months, while also nursing her baby. i was just so impressed with the mamma whale and her stamina, and intense will not only to survive, but to protect her young.

i got an anonymous facebook message from (presumably) a treatment girl the other day. she's apparently a pretty angry person. the entire message was pretty long, but the theme of it was an effort to make me mad. she said basically every hurtful thing she could think to say (things like she hopes mason dies, she wonders when my dad will die of his heart problems, my mom needs braces, i'm fat, etc) but all while reading it, i could not help but feel sorry for her. here was this girl who, no matter what she was trying to convince me in the message, was insanely unhappy with her life. her solution to her unhappiness was to write me an anonymous message, from a fake account, and try to make me angry. i really don't know what i ever did to her to make her so mad, and maybe it was nothing. either way, she found an outlet in me. as annoying as it was to get that message, i actually hope she sends me another, the next time she gets mad. maybe being able to vent at someone will keep her from doing something self-destructive.

one more random story. i rode the bus/trax to see my sister yesterday. when i got on the train in sandy, i was the only one in the car and started reading. just a few minutes later, i looked up as 8 or 10 guys sat down in the seats in front of me. not really a huge deal, except these guys all had white t-shirts and had shaved heads. long story short, they were straight out of the prison. a few were completely discharged (i guess that means done with their sentences), but most of them were newly paroled. it made for an interesting ride for a bit, especially the part where a possibly drunk guy began yelling about them just getting out of prison.

anywho, i guess this is as good as most of my monthly posts :) i guess i'll give some more details about the job search later. i've got a few interviews tomorrow.

my dog died

this is chiefi about a year ago. we'd had him for about 8 months and i still called him wicket (like the ewok) because i thought it was a more fitting name.

i'll spare you from seeing a picture of chiefi yesterday. it was heartbreaking. you see, chiefi got ran over by a car on state street.

i always figured people whose dogs died were just being dramatic. i've sent dogs to the pound before or given them away. it can't be that different, right? WRONG!! oh my goodness, for all of you out there who have had dogs die, i am sorry i judged you. this is one of the most sad things that has ever happened to me. i feel like a person died. like my little brother. i keep expecting to see him or hear the little jingle of his tags when he runs around the house.

chiefi and i had a love-hate relationship, and it was becoming more and more love lately. literally in the last three weeks, chiefi has been growing up. he's not as obnoxious and listens. if you opened the door a month ago, chiefi would bolt out of it like his life depended on his freedom from the house. these past few weeks, he would sit at the threshold until you called him out. he barked at everything, but was also terrified of everything. lately, he's been barking only at actual threats, and actually single-handedly chased a huge dog out of our backyard (that coco completely missed). he was always affectionate, but has been less needy lately. he really was just a cute dog.

i am convinced that chief is the reason coco is still alive today. she was getting depressed and slowing waaay down 18 months ago, before we got chief. the day we brought him home, it was like coco was a new dog. she had been given a breath of life. chief kept her young. i never imagined chief would die before coco. i envisioned us as owners of just a small dog once coco died. this is so backwards.

beyond all that, chiefi was the only thing mason wanted in the hospital. when he had just come out of two surgeries and was uber depressed, mason cried for his puppy. and the hospital obliged. we were given special permission for chiefi to come visit mason, and it made mason's whole week. he smiled for the first time in weeks and it was a turning point in his treatment. he was up and walking again and out of the hospital in amazing time.

a few weeks ago, my dad fell into the lake. chiefi played the role of lassie, freaking out until my dad was safe back on shore. chiefi was my dad's forever companion. he would cry if my dad left without him.

i guess, needless to say, chiefi will always have a soft spot in my heart. when we first got him, i was convinced i hated him because i don't like little dogs. chiefi changed my mind about little dogs forever. he was a sweet dog, and fiercely protective and loyal.

he had gone outside with coco on friday night and never came back. around 2 am, me and coco roamed a one mile circle around our house, calling for chiefi and whistling, carefully stopping to listen for the jingle of his collar. after over an hour of driving around, i gave up and came home. my hope was that someone had found him late at night and would bring him home at a normal hour. the next morning, on the way to mason's curesearch walk, my mom and sister (with mason in the car) saw him, dead on the road.

when i got the call, i did not believe it. chiefi never went farther than the next door neighbor's house. he was too scared, and would come bounding back any time coco did. i convinced vili to drive by, just so i could see for myself. what i saw was heartbreaking. i was shocked, could not believe i was really seeing our chiefi with his innards no longer in. we got a shovel and bag, and brought him home for the last time. my dad could not even talk to us, he was so upset.

i wish i could say that we had a funeral service; that we buried him in a way that signified our love for him and gratitude for his role in our lives. unfortunately, none of us could bare looking at him. burying him was just one step too far in the grief cycle. so, we put him in the garbage can and he was taken by the folks at waste management to the dump. i like to think that was better than leaving him on the road, to continue to be ran over until someone else finally got around to scraping him up and taking him to the dump. at least the ones who did the scraping loved that dog.