"February 1, 2010" by Kendra G

     I’m sure most of us have fond memories of the fifth grade, whether it be recess, art, dodgeball, or maybe just hanging out with friends. I, too, was having a great year up until the second half of the school year. January of 2012, I began to have headaches. They were the dull, annoying, but bearable kind. I loved school and didn’t want to miss out on any activities, so I ignored it. There were several times I told my parents and they would take me to urgent care, but each time I was told it was just a migraine or the flu. Well, the doctor said I was fine, so I must be fine. I continued the rest of the month based off of this up until my left eye started crossing. Again, I did my best to ignore it but eventually I told my parents and they took me to see the ophthalmologist. After a couple tests, he couldn’t figure out why my eye was crossing, until he looked inside. He noticed swelling on my optic nerve and referred me to get an MRI.
     After the scan, I went out to lunch with my mom only for the doctor to call an hour later to tell me to go to the ER immediately. After getting checked in, I was told that they had saw lesions, midline shifting, and frontal lobe swelling in my brain. I spent the night in the ER and was checked into the ICU the following morning. My days were filled with tests, being poked every other hour, and not getting enough sleep. After day five the doctors still had no idea what was going on inside my head, so they decided the best option would be brain surgery. I was only 10 at the time, but if the doctor said that I needed surgery, then I guess I needed surgery. Luckily, an oncologist stepped in moments before my surgery and requested that I have a full-body MRI first. After a couple hours of scans and testing, the results came in. On February 1st, 2012, I was diagnosed with cancer.
     I remember so vividly this moment and it’s something I wish nobody has to experience. The silence after this statement was chilling as the room filled with shock, confusion, and terror. The doctors diagnosed it as Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, blood cancer, and I would need six rounds of chemotherapy. After a few more surgeries and several more tests, I was finally situated in the pediatrics department where my day were filled with chemotherapy and the news channel. The walls were white and the only thing in the room to keep me occupied was the television that only had about 6 channels for kids. I still get anxiety to this day everytime I hear an IV pump beep, an indication that I was running low on fluid or medicine. After about a month in the hospital, I was finally cleared to go home. Home. As relieving as being able to go home was, it was not. My immune system was incredibly weak and I could only make it halfway up the stairs before feeling like I was going to faint. I lived in my room and had limited contact with anyone fearing that I would get sick or develop an infection. This, was by far the worst part of this whole experience. I could handle the chemotherapy and the nausea and the needles and the surgeries and everything else, but I could not handle being so alone. The social isolation deterred my mental health and I became shallow and timid.
     However, while I was home between rounds of chemo, A teacher at my elementary school volunteered to be my home school teacher twice a week. Ms. Young became my mentor and a friend that I so desperately needed. I thrived learning again and excelled in my academic courses. But of course, there were days where I could barely move from the couch, but still, she would accommodate to my needs and do her best to still teach me. After developing this

friendship, I found it was easier to talk with everyone and was more social during my time in the hospital.       After a few more months of constantly going back and forth between the hospital and home, my doctor officially declared that I was cancer free. It was such an awe-inspiring moment knowing that I had beaten cancer. Unfortunately, it was still a bitter-sweet victory since I had a long road to recovery. I still deal with some of the side effects of the chemo, but I have learned to live around them and to live up to my potential.
     This may sound odd to some people, but I am actually grateful for this whole experience. Having such a traumatic experience at such a young age, I learned how fragile life is and how to live life knowing that nothing is ever guaranteed. I stop to appreciate the little things, whether that be a pretty sunset or a dumb joke. I have also learned how important time is, not just with other people, but also myself. If there is someone I am not fond of, I am not going to waste any time on that person. I will always be a kind person, as everyone should be, but if someone is toxic, I will not let them consume the time that I have left. Overall, my experience has been life-altering, but not necessarily in a negative way, and I am grateful for the life that I have and what I plan to do with it.

You'll LOVE these new posts!

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"How it Feels to be the Youngest" by Anthony M

Being the youngest one in my family hasn’t always been pleasant throughout my entire life.
Though this doesn’t take away the fact that I am still blessed and unconditionally love a great family of five including my older brother and sister, I have had and still have many general experiences that affect me to this day.
One thing that has always bothered me about being the youngest is the establishment of dominance in my family. I was raised to always respect and listen to my elders. With that being said, my dad obviously has the most dominance with my mom next, then my sister, my brother, and me being the last, meaning I really don’t have dominance over anyone. This has always made me a slave in the family mentally and physically. Not that there is nothing wrong with my beautiful family but being the youngest one automatically meant I had the least busiest schedule, which is why my whole life I have always been thrown with not necessarily hard but consistent jobs in and out the house. Being disciplined to listen and never oppose, I’ve always had no choice but to do these things all the time no matter the time or day. This can range from chores, to work in the garage with my dad, or to waking up early just to run errands for my family when they were busy with whatever they were doing. This is obviously something I’ve gotten used to a long time ago, but from time to time gets irritating and makes me lose my mind. One insanely stupid memory I’ll always remember is when I was super young. It was in the afternoon when it was me, my dad, and my sister watching a basketball game on television. My dad specifically told my sister to get the mail but she refused, reasoning that she was simply tired and told me to get the mail. I told her “Dad told you.” But after that brief argument, my dad yelled, “Kier (my middle name), she is older than you and you do as she says!” Believe it or not, things like this still happen to this day in my family.
Another thing that has bothered me about being the youngest is the way my character is shaped because of that. Being used to having to listen and comply most of the time my whole life, I’ve never gotten used to being a leader but a follower. To me, it has affected how shy or serious I can get in school at times. For those who know my older brother, a lot can see him as a natural-born leader based on his accolades in High School such as being in top 3 in academics and being an officer for several clubs. And one contributing factor to how my brother is the person he is today is the fact of him being my older brother and being used to guiding me through life when my father wasn’t always there. Due to all of his achievements, I’ve been pressured every year in school to do as good, if not better than him when having the teachers he previously had. There have been several instances in my life where I’ve had some teachers make comparisons of me to my brother in school relating to our work ethic or grade point averages which has always gotten on my nerves as if I’m forced to be like someone and not myself.
Emotionally, being the youngest one in my family has played a role in my life as well, especially today. With my sister finished with college and working soon and my brother away at college, it’s like branching off with two lifelong friends of mine. My whole life, I’ve been trailing under not just

my parents but also my older siblings which based on my experiences has always affected me more emotionally than any of my them. In my opinion, these are one of the reasons why the youngest person in the family has the hardest adjustments in life as they mature. Because no matter my age, I will always be considered the baby of the family.
To sum it up, I have had and still get unsoothing experiences of being the youngest one in my family. But because I accept who I am and the circumstances, I’ve alway learned to look at the bright side of being the youngest one, such as simply being the youngest and most cared for in my family and having not just my parents but also my older siblings as mentors as well.

"Finding Your Public Speaking Style " by Eugene K

     One of the most daunting aspects of participating in Model United Nations is public speaking. Most delegates are filled with anxiety and fear when it comes to speaking in front of their peers, nonetheless absolute strangers. As the president of our school’s Model United Nations (MUN) club and a participant of MUN for six years now, I would like to believe that I am somewhat good at public speaking and for this reason, I would like to extend to you some tips on public speaking that may help to ease your anxiety when speaking in front of others.
     To begin, let us divide the topic of “Public Speaking” into two aspects: Sight and Sound. We’ll begin with sight. Now when it comes to “sight” during public speaking, it is absolutely imperative that you maintain eye contact with your audience throughout the duration of your presentation. By maintaining eye contact with your audience, you are able to display confidence to your audience as well as retain their attention. However, most speakers find it to be very uncomfortable and stressful when they have to look directly into the eyes of their audience. If you are one of the people that feel this way, I would recommend for you to look at the foreheads of your audience instead. This allows for you to avoid the awkward eye contact that most people dread while simultaneously making it seem like you are looking directly into the eyes of your audience members. Another tip to consider would be preparing brief notes rather than an entire dissertation. This is a common tip amongst public speakers and it is because when you have an

entire speech instead of notes, the speaker often finds that they are looking at their paper quite frequently. Furthermore, some speakers lose track of what they said last so they’ll end up spending time looking for what they need to say next. This creates awkward silence and can also be very distracting for your audience while they wait for you to compose yourself. In order to avoid this, please prepare brief bullet points instead and simply link your points together in an impromptu manner. This can make your speech seem much more fluid and you won’t have to constantly look down at your paper. So far, I have talked about the importance of maintaining eye contact with your audience as well as the type of materials you should bring up with you and these are all relatively common tips that are shared. Yet, most people don’t seem to know about the importance of body motions when giving a speech. For example, make sure you utilize your hands when delivering a speech/presentation by either keeping your palms up (gestures to your audience that “you are welcoming them”), palms down (indicates that “you are in control”), or keeping your hands together. Pacing around the room could also demonstrate that you are in control of the room and prevents you from improper body stances (example: slanting), but excessive pacing can also be seen as a distraction.
     Following the sight aspect of public speaking, one must equally consider the sound aspect of giving a speech. One of the most important details would be your speaking volume. Depending on the size of the room, one must gauge how loudly they must speak in order to insure that their entire audience can hear the points that they are delivering. This particular tip requires some extensive practice, but it is important that one isn’t too loud, it can scare the audience and portray a demanding character, or too quiet, it leads to your audience straining to hear you and risks the possibility of your audience not hearing what you are saying. Following

volume, one must also consider the pace and tone of their speech. Talking too fast during a speech may lead to stuttering or confusion among the audience as they struggle to keep up with the ideas you are delivering. However, talking too slow may result in a loss of time and can cause a loss of interest. This is when tone comes in! By shifting your tone throughout your speech (Example: lowering your tone when making a point), it ensures that your audience is constantly captivated and doesn’t lose focus.
     Throughout life, you will often find yourselves in situations where you have to address an audience. These situations could arise in college during one of your classes or maybe even at work. Regardless of where it happens and how many people you are addressing, these tips can assist you in delivering an effective speech/presentation. By delivering a fantastic speech or presentation, it leaves you open to the possibility of earning a good grade, gaining the respect of your peers, motivating change, and a multitude of other benefits! All in all, hopefully the tips above aid you in developing your own public speaking persona!

“How To Love Yourself” by Francis A

Being a senior in high school isn’t easy. Rigorous courses, deciding what your next path is, part-time jobs, and balancing a social life, all in the same breath? Most definitely not a walk in the park. Especially around this time of year, things like college decisions and Valentine’s Day can be huge influencers over our self-image and can cause us to begin to look at ourselves in a negative light. Whether it’s a conflict with your best friend, getting denied from your ideal university, or you’re tired of people posting about their relationships on social media, loving oneself should always be a top priority: before you can love others earnestly (Jack and Algernon say hi) and genuinely, you have to put yourself first. Here are a few steps on how to enter the road of self-acceptance, and love yourself. 

First things first: avoid being perfect. Starting off, I already know this step is a hard one for many us: being AP students, we are bred to believe we are expected to always be on top, and to constantly be the best of the best. But the reality is, sometimes we come up short, no matter hard we try. We’re human. We make mistakes. Self-acceptance stems from the realization that we don’t have to look, speak, or act a certain way, and owning our individuality as human beings. If anyone expects you to consistently fit to a standard, the most essential thing to do would be to ignore their comments, or completely cut them off. You failed a Physics test last week? That’s okay. Reflect on your study habits and the grade you received, and develop a plan to ace the next one. You are not perfect, neither is the richest human in the world (which currently is Bill Gates, by the way). Use your shortcomings as stepping stones for improvement. 

Secondly, take time for yourself. In 2019, we are in an era of exponential technological advancement, where everything is digitalized and quickly spewed out from a computer screen. Trust me, I get it, we’re becoming more efficient as a species. But, that doesn’t mean you constantly have to be going at that same pace. When you feel overwhelmed by your personal or educational situation, slow down and participate in something that brings you joy. Whether it’s playing a video game, listening to your favorite playlist, taking a nap, strolling through nature, or just petting your dog for a solid 10 minutes straight, these simple activities can greatly decrease stress and put one in a better mental space in order to feel more comfortable with themselves. 

The third step: rewards. This could be considered one of the more fun parts of self-love! Consider all of the effort you put into the many facets of your life: family, friends, grades, and so much more. You deserve to treat yourself for the things you did well, right? Yes, the answer is yes. Let’s say you just passed all of your finals after some serious study time. Great! So, buy that new phone you’ve had your eye on. Take yourself out to see that new movie. Turn on the faucets and take that long bath you’ve been craving. You can even challenge yourself to do these things

on your own; practicing autonomy and independence is essential in the quest of loving oneself. This helps to not rely on others for one’s own happiness. 

The fourth step in this process is to have a plan for when things go wrong. Again, we are human, thus we are bound to go through setbacks and experience negativity that will only stunt our development. It is essential to recognize the people, places, or things in general that block the path to your current road towards self-love. Once they are identified, keep in mind that it is not always possible to have power over others’ actions and words, so tackling the problem head-on is not always the best choice. Rather, have power over the way in which you choose to respond and react. For example, if such negativity comes from a specific person, such as a family member or friend, try to figure out why they are treating you in such a manner, and if there is no valid explanation, address that person and their behavior, or even consider distancing them from your personal life. Recognizing your feelings and turning others’ negative energy into positive reinforcement is the base of building a confirmed sense of self-worth. 

Lastly, one must “speak it into existence”. This colloquial term is often used as a joke to express a hope for a positive event or outcome, but in reality, holds true influence and is essential in learning the practice of self-love. Think of positive thoughts that are capable of lifting you up, and continue to repeat them to yourself throughout the day, even if you initially don’t believe in what you’re saying. It may seem a bit cheeky or facetious at the first try, but once this turns to habit, these positive affirmations will begin to spread throughout the mind and eventually come true. This process can take time, as is true with the other steps, but if you were to say “I am loveable” with repetition when you feel at an emotional low, the brain will continuously process that information as you “speak it into existence”. The key is to believe in yourself, and the power that is held in your own voice.
Genuinely loving yourself isn’t a particularly easy task. In fact, it sounds a bit daunting when stated on its own. But, in reality, we have the tools we need: ourselves. I personally look back to the times where I felt that no one understood what I was going through internally, the times where I felt that no one was suffering more than I was. But when I look at the process of self-love holistically, I could see how it was possible to at least try to implement these steps in my day-to-day life. I am now in a better place mentally, yet I know that I still have a long way to go before I can say I can accept myself fully, with both the good and the bad. We are all capable of doing it. It just takes time. Take your time.

“Immigration” By Kiyla N

It was the 10^th of May, 2014 ironically Mother’s Day in Mexico. My dad, grandma, siblings and I were getting prepared because my grandma, siblings and I were going to get on the bus to have a 3 day travel to Tijuana from our little town in Mexico called Zacualpan, Nayarit. It was a day we had been preparing for 1 year, we were finally going to go to the U.S. to be able to have better studies and a better economic situation. We had planned to go in the morning so that we can get the earlies bus that gets there. 

We were saying good bye to my dad while the man from the bus helped us load our suitcases and bags on the bus. We were crying as we said our good byes and stuck to our dad until the last minute possible.

When we got on the bus, surprisingly there was quite the amount of people, I remember hating where I was sitting because I was behind a lady with a baby that wouldn’t stop throwing things at me and in front of a kid hat was 5-7 years old and wouldn’t stop kicking my seat. The bus had tiny TV’s and a bathroom, which was surprisingly clean, at the back of the bus. Sometimes the bus driver would make stops at different bus stations and more people would get in and some would get down, some people got on the bus just to sell stuff like chips, sodas, water, food, etc.

On our way to Tijuana we made a total of 9 stops that were for the same thing, two stops were made each day, one to get breakfast and the other for dinner. Sometimes the bus drivers would switch depending where we stopped. I remember watching the movies that they would put on the bus, honestly I can’t really remember what movies they put because of how often they would be old movies that only my grandma knew, and I remember eating my chips as we passed a military training base which was also a stop where they would check our things, and this was a very scary moment for me, because there was actually a bag that had some narcotics in it and the bag belonged to a man that was sitting two chairs behind me. Now this may seem weird that it scared me, but the reason why it did is because my siblings and I were actually talking to the guy sometimes and he would often offer us some of his chips that he had. If it weren’t for my grandma at the time telling us not to accept them, I don’t even want to imagine what it is we could have ate.

When we got to Tijuana it was 14^TH of May, 5-6 p.m. we immediately went to the Border to be able to cross. My siblings and I had our papers because we were born in L.A. but my grandma had a visa that allowed her to come to the U.S. for 6 months. I don’t know exactly why, but when we got to the line to show our papers and cross I was very nervous. We had all our papers which were obviously real and legal, but I still felt scared. I kept telling myself that I was being ridiculous but no matter how I kept repeating it I still felt scared because of the stories that are always told in Mexico of corrupt police and what-not.

It was already 2-3 a.m. when we finally crossed and were able to actually see a little bit of the U.S. for the first time in my siblings and my life. There was a lot of buildings that had a lot of lights, the buses seemed more modern and updated and not as beat down as the one’s in Mexico. The fast food places that we usually only saw in movies actually were real which embarrassingly I thought was super awesome at the time. We called our uncle that lived in the city we were in at the moment, which was San Ysidro, he picked us up and because his car was a van we were able to fit everything and have space to sleep in the car, the same way we slept on the bus which was one person taking two seats and another one sleeping on the floor.

When we woke up it was already 3-4 p.m. of the 15^th of May, we were in front of a house that had a white fence and was a wide one floor house, now this house for me at the moment was big and awesome because of how similar it was to the ones in movies and how different it was to the house I lived in Mexico. When we got out of the car my mom was already waiting for us, and after a year of not seeing her we cried of happiness and started to go in to our new life talking about things we miss about each other the past year.

This experience made me have a new hope in the way I want to live in this new environment that was given to me. When I was growing up in Mexico I had never been talked to about college, and High School was already where we had to start paying, and because of our family income we didn’t have enough money to afford for all 3 of us to go. It’s thanks to the experience that I had growing up in Mexico that I can be more appreciative towards the opportunity that was given to me by coming to this new country and give it my all to be successful.

"Lonely Road" by Eric C

FADE IN:

EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE ROAD - EARLY MORNING

A teal colored car moderately drives along the mountainside on a desolate road. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon. The driver is an average woman with black hair with a pale face. The WOMAN is driving while listening to rock and roll music and smiles happily. The car drives by a mysterious road side sign with an unknown language on it. The music amplifies. The car comes to an abrupt stop, the woman looks confused as she does not remember there being two paths to choose from. She chooses to go down the left path after checking maps on her iphone.

CUT TO:[POV SHOT]

Tracks the car from a relative distance and watches it drive on.

EXT. MIDDLE OF A DESERT LIKE ARIZONA - AFTERNOON

The sun is red and slowly dips into the distant horizon. The shot follows the car as it zooms quickly by. There is no more music only the sound of the road.

EXT. GAS STATION - AFTERNOON CLOSE TO DUSK

WOMAN

(She looks at the gas gauge.)

Empty.

(She turns into a local gas station.)

The gas station is old the fuel pumps and door hinges are rusting. There an OLD MAN resides inside the gas station but his figure is hidden in darkness.

WOMAN

(Realizing the pumps don’t use credit she walks into the gas station.)

Hello can I get 20 on pump 7?

THE OLD MAN

(Staring at the woman intently. The man slowly reaches out and takes the money not once laying his eyes off of her. The old man hands are dry, almost as if it was decaying and his fingertips long and sharp, mold formed at the tip.)

WOMAN

(The woman is now in an awkward standoff with the creepy old man, she tries to smile back but cannot make out the old man’s face.)

THE OLD MAN

(Staring with red glowing eyes, reminiscent of a cat, with curiosity. He talks with a deep and broken voice.)

The gas here is different… but usable to a certain extent…

The woman is confused, after all it’s just gas. The old man continues to stare at her as he is waiting for the receipt while music is playing in the background.

WOMAN

(Staring blankly back at the old man)

Huh… I’m sorry what?

The man does not answer back or break his stare. Still not being able to make out his appearance, she breaks eye contact and looks around her surrounding. She realizes there are no food or drinks, nothing, all the aisle are empty while dust are everywhere. Then something catches her out the corner of her eye. A room adjacent to the cashier register to the left there is an empty room that seems to go on forever. She catches sight of a creature with long hair almost naked with its long claws covering its eyes. It looked as if it was weeping on the ground but making no sound as it wept. 

THE OLD MAN

(Abruptly, in a deep and loud voice)

Your receipt

WOMAN

(Snaps out of her gaze looks at the old man)

T-Thank … You

Immediately she looks back at the room but the door is now closed. Nervously the woman smiles back at the old man, and hurries out the gas station.

EXT.OUTSIDE - DUSK

The woman walks outside she can’t believe how long she was inside the gas station talking to the old man. After she fills her car full she drives off into the dipping sun.

EXT. LOCATION - NIGHT 

The woman is now driving in a straight dark road for about an hour. She shudders, she cannot help but feel fear for there is something very off about this road. The map shows there being two roads and heavy traffic. There are no other cars but hers and there is only one lane. There are no street lights to illuminate the dark but the car headlight, thus she can barely make out her surroundings. The car comes to a halt, she checks the fuel gauge and its empty. She gets out of the car to get the gas can out her trunk.

WOMAN 

(Looking around her surroundings and talking to herself)

I am alone… there is no one here… but me. 

The woman opens her trunk and takes out a spare gas can to fill her car up. When she finishes she turns around, and in front of the car there stood a short old woman. She wore a scarf around her head, wearing thick clothes. Her skin pale with wrinkles and broken veins covering her face. Her eyes thick with cataracts and hunchback. Her head slowly rises, her will was broken. As she finally met eye contact with the woman she showed a grieve look on her face.

THE OLD WOMAN

(In a raspy voice)

We should have paid close attention…

Then a large hand the size of a tire grabs the old lady plunging her into darkness. All you can hear is the old woman’s scream echoing through the night. The woman heart beating faster, she sees several tall figures with red glowing eyes in the distant. Their forearms longer than their body, the figures have surrounded the car. The woman trembling in fear, immediately rushes inside her car and attempts to flee. However, the car won’t turn on.

WOMAN

 (Panicking)

Please… not right now… not right now!

As the figures gets closer, the car headlight flickers and the woman hand is shaking. She panics locks all doors and reaches for her phone to call for help, but her phone is missing. The headlight flickers one last time, she looks at the rear view window and sees the monster sitting at the back comfortably, holding her phone showing its dreary smile… 

WOMAN

(Screaming with Fear)

Aaaaaaghhhhh!!!

The scene ends when the car turns off completely, slowly fading into darkness.

FADE OUT:

"Orange Chicken" by Xiaoqing Z

Orange Chicken. This popular Chinese dish is the definition of midnight comfort food, and it is also a must when Americans visit their local Chinese restaurant to satisfy their cravings. But, in fact, Orange Chicken is not actually Chinese. In the first decade of my life that I have spent in China, dining at an American restaurant was one of those things I did not get to do everyday because American food was overpriced and “unhealthy”. When the adults do decide to take my cousins and I to American restaurants “to shut us up”, Orange Chicken was one of the dishes we have always ordered. The golden popping color, the crunchiness, the mixture of sweet and sour, and the perfectly marinated pieces of meat had always managed to take us to wonderland.

At the age of ten, I boarded the flight that forever changed my life, but I was disappointed by not being able to sit in the window seat; instead, I got the middle seat, in between of the window and aisle seats. During the fourteen hour flight, I was counting down and mentally preparing myself for culture shock while counting how many times the elderly man in the window seat had said “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”, and I still remember, after all these years, he used the restroom too many times. After landing and quickly started to adapt to my new life, nothing was more shocking than finding out that Orange Chicken is a Chinese dish! The ten year-old I had suddenly fallen into confusion. The only way to find the true origin of Orange Chicken is to “google it”, and I clicked on one seemingly credible source (Not Wikipedia), and found out that the first Chinese immigrants have brought the original Mandarin Chicken recipe with them and modified it severely to fit the taste buds of the general American public, in order to make money, of course.

No matter what Orange Chicken’s nationality is, it is still an amazing dish that can lift people from hell to heaven, and you definitely need it if you are going through a break-up, recently lost a job, or received a big fat F after pulling an all nighter studying for that test. But do you really want to spend 10+ minutes driving to a Panda Express with an average rating of 2.5/5 stars on Yelp, and then spend $8.30 (plus tax) on a meal with just rice, vegetables, and chicken? Let me show you the correct way to enjoy this glorious dish at a much lower cost, but have a 5/5 stars experience!

If you are expecting the following to be a recipe of Orange Chicken, then you are very wrong. First of all, I would be a hypocrite if I was to write a recipe for the best Orange Chicken out there, but in reality, I still don’t know how to cook rice with a rice cooker. Second of all, cooking from scratch, in my opinion, wastes too much time and has too many underlying implicit costs, so let me show to the perfect way to heat up frozen Orange Chicken!

The first and most important step is to take a short drive to your local grocery store, preferably Walmart, to pick up a bag or box of frozen Orange Chicken. Walmart is the preferred grocery store because it is the most abundant (you can still find Walmart in some of the most remote towns of North America), has a wide variety of selection, and offers the lowest prices with its “price match” system. (This is not sponsored by Walmart)

Once you have purchased your frozen Orange Chicken, you may now begin the heating process, which comes in two methods.

The Oven Method aka The Preferred Method

1. Preheat the oven to 400°F, which is the perfect temperature that allows the breading to become crispy and the meat to become tender.

2. Place a desirable amount of chicken on a baking sheet and bake for 15-18 minutes depending on the amount of chicken or until golden and crisp. Ladies and Gentlemen, watch out for the calories! The choice is yours.

3. Meanwhile, thaw the unopened sauce packet that comes with the frozen Orange Chicken in warm water. Once the packet is completely thawed, heat the sauce in a bowl on High in the microwave for 1 minute. Although it is completely safe to microwave the sauce in the packet, I am always concerned with the fact that I might be eating melted plastic.

4. Place the fully heated chicken into a bowl and pour the heated sauce over the chicken. Mix the chicken with the sauce and Ta Da!

The Stove Top Method aka The Less Preferable Method

If you find yourself to be in a kitchen that does not have an oven or you just want to make your life harder, the Stove Top option is perfect for you!

1. Heat some oil in a skillet or frying pan, and add a desirable amount of frozen Orange Chicken. If you want a slightly healthier meal, you can use olive oil or other substitutes in the skillet. Again, watch out for the calories! The choice is yours.
   

2. Let the chicken cook for 15-18 minutes or until the chicken has reached the perfect level of crisp you desire.
   

3. Meanwhile, thaw the unopened sauce packet that comes with the frozen Orange Chicken in warm water. Once the packet is completely thawed, heat the sauce in a bowl on High in the microwave for 1 minute.

4. Place the fully cooked chicken into a bowl and pour the heated sauce over the chicken. Mix the chicken with the sauce and the chicken is all yours!

You can enjoy Orange Chicken (a piece of art) by itself, with rice, or with noodles. If you are truly a nonconformist, you can also eat Orange Chicken with pasta, in a sandwich, on a pizza...you name it!

"I’m Gay And Have Severe Anxiety " by Jennifer F

     The heat is unbearable. My thighs start sticking to the low budget leather seats adorned with small cracks and a shallow hole here and there. The smell of sickly sweet orange chicken and an ungodly amount of canola oil saturates the thick air around me. ‘Why on Earth did we decide on the food court to study in out of all places?’ I berate myself silently. It was an irritatingly sunny day in perhaps the most suburban of areas you can find in Southern California. I attended a school filled with hundreds of egotistical man babies who oppressed my very existence on a daily basis. The girls weren’t any better either. (I mean most of them were fine I just choose to fixate on the negative, you know, for the dramatization of it all). A distant, and I mean distant friend of mine plagiarized her final essay sophomore year and foolishly bragged about her feat to my entire friend group the following semester. No one could have prepared me for the chaos that ensued immediately after. Friendships were broken, a girl’s transcript was tarnished by “anonymous” information, and most importantly, I couldn’t eat my 20 gram protein bar without hearing that one girl fat shame my English teacher. However, not all was lost. Recently I’ve started talking to someone. Not like talking talking but just, talking. I wasn’t completely out of the closet yet which was simultaneously terrifying and comforting. The dirty flannels and baggy sweats weren’t fooling anyone at school but my parents remained as oblivious as always. They didn’t know the reason why I watched these low budget, terribly written shows was because they were the only source of representation I could find in a world just barely coming to terms with the fact that racial, gender, and marriage equality aren’t just some abstract concepts we like to talk about for fun. They also didn’t know I was temporarily incapable of speech when it came to a girl in English who managed to knock the wind out of me with just a smile, and many, many more. Adding on to the list of things my parents should probably never know about are the daily texts I’ve exchanged with a girl from another high school in my district who is coincidentally the reason why I’m sitting in Victoria Gardens infamous food court, alone, in anticipation.
     I don’t normally put myself out there. Especially when “out there” is full of judgement and potential food allergies I might have. But in this case there was nothing stopping me from meeting the only other girl like me I knew of in the entirety of the accursed Rancho Cucamonga. She had so much to say about everything and a mind full of wonderfully bizarre facts and opinions that I never got tired of hearing about. Not to mention, she was without a doubt the most intelligent person I knew of in my sad and desolate high school circumference. This is important to keep in mind as our finals were coming up for our sophomore year and I couldn’t have been more ill-prepared. I passively communicated my anxieties about this to her in conversation and she passively offered to...help me. I scooped up my phone that was haphazardly thrown onto my bed and clutched it for dear life. I don’t do these things. I don’t meet up with

people I’ve only met once, on their birthdays specifically, where I never said a word because Dear God She Was Pretty and I’m nowhere near qualified to speak to her. My heart was palpitating and of course I was going to say yes, I’m not stupid, but I had to restrain myself from answering in the .005 seconds my monkey brain was planning on. “Be cool”, I spoke solemnly to myself while nervously pacing around my bedroom. That same phrase is now the only thing I can hear in my mind as I wait for her in this suffocating heat. I am now full stage Panic Mode and I don’t think I’ve ever been this anxious to meet someone. Well, there is the exception of that underground indie artist I waited hours to see, so worth it. Anyways, my heart is minutes away from rupturing and leaving me sprawled over a crusty food court booth when out of nowhere she slides into the seat in front of me with full indifference on her face. I have made a grave mistake.

     Eventually I mustered up enough courage to utter a few words of gratitude and asked how on earth chemistry made any sense to her. She looked up at me and I immediately lost my composure. My throat transformed into the Sahara Desert and I could feel my face burning up. “What did you say?”, she asked in response. Deep down inside my soul I begged God to spare me from the inevitable embarrassment and end it right here in the middle of everyone’s lunch. Unsurprisingly, he did not listen to my pleas. I fumbled around inside my bag to grab a water bottle that might help the burning in my cheeks ebb away a little. I managed to get my point across and changed the subject to something more tangible, like the stack of chemistry worksheets conveniently placed on the table. The more we talked, the more I realized that this wouldn’t be the last time we meet. The sun was about to set which sent rays of golden orange cascading down into the windows that shielded us from the outside. I glanced up towards her and saw the next years unfold between us. Suddenly the food court didn’t seem like such a terrible place to spend my time in.

"The Woman" By Alysha S

 

The year was 2017, the month of August.  The month of heat, pool parties, and long nights under the stars. The day started off as usual, the smell of fresh coffee lingering through the morning air, while the radio talk shows gave relationship advice to desperate adults. Monet had a few errands to run, so she hopped in her little black car and drove to the neighborhood shopping market. Everything was going fine, until she saw something in the corner of her eye. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had just seen, but it was definitely a human figure. Monet continued to fulfill her shopping list, but she couldn’t help but be distracted by the thought of the mysterious figure. She wondered if anyone else had seen it. Instead of overthinking, she decided not to worry and just kept shopping instead. The day carried on peacefully, free from distractions, until she caught a glimpse of the same figure in her rearview mirror as she drove home. This time she managed to pay close attention. The figure was undoubtedly a woman. A tall woman with sleek black hair and long legs that carried her body about so swiftly. The woman didn’t look lost. She seemed to have a purpose, but what was it? Monet became more confused as ever. Was she being followed? Who is this woman? Obviously a bit more worried now, Monet pulled into her driveway. Once she got inside she began to write in her little black diary, painting the pages with every detail she saw today about this woman, piecing together all of her thoughts and ideas until she finally gave up. Monet was in the need for inspiration, so she grabbed her little black jacket and drove to the top of the hill at the end of the road. She parked and just sat back, being mesmerized by the beautiful view. Every night of August, around 5:45 pm, the sun starts to set along the horizon of the busy city. The enormous ball of fire begins to change to hues of red, and then almost pink. The colors merge with the sky, like cotton candy and everything sweet. Monet was happy and at ease, as she blushed at the warmth of the setting sun. She watched in amazement, but snapped back into reality. Monet knew there was something off. She turned around and standing in the middle of the street behind her car was the same woman, but this time Monet could clearly see her face. The woman was beautiful, exotic, and looked so wonderfully happy. She had a glow to her that shined brighter than any star in the August night sky. Monet stared into the woman’s little black eyes and warm, salty tears instantly flooded Monet’s face. She couldn’t help but let out a small giggle and a cheesy smirk. She had always prayed about this moment. She had been awaiting the day she would be given her guardian angel. This day in August was the one year anniversary of her mother’s death...