Hey, I have a new blog now.
It's much more well thought-out than this one, and I have better ideas for posts. Also, I decided I liked WordPress better than Blogger.
Here it is: http://lifeisaclambar.wordpress.com/
Peace.
Monday, December 22, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
Relationships
...are complicated. No, I'm not talking in a still-getting-over-Tony (what I've been calling my ex-boyfriend) kind of way. Though I will admit, Tony's told me that he's liked other girls in the 11 months since we broke up and I am just the tiniest bit jealous. Not because I still like him. It's just that we had a lot and now I don't know if it meant anything.
Anyway, I'm getting off track. Tony's been having a lot of problems with a certain girl he likes- I won't go into detail; that would be rude to him. I've been having problems too, but not really because of people I'm attracted to. They don't exist.
Tony and I are still really good friends, and we tend to trust each other. And Tony is a really good person. In fact, he's too good of a person. He's a rock for the entire world and no one ever supports him, including me. Well, things got really bad for him last week and I've been trying to help him out and he keeps telling me not to because I have my own problems, and I keep telling him not to worry about me because he already worries about too many other people, meanwhile I'm worrying about him.
Do you see the problem here? We need to meet in the middle somehow so we can both help each other, but there's no way for that to happen. Which is rare- I'm generally not that nice and mostly don't care about other peoples' problems; they can deal with it. Except I really care about Tony, and he's the only person I trust. And I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows what's going on with him, too. So it's really a big mess. In my opinion, there can be a situation where friends are too close and nice to each other and me and Tony are in it. It isn't necessarily a bad thing until both of you get hurt worse. And I'm more worried about Tony than me because he worries about everyone and everything, and people always talk to him because he tries to help people; that's just what he does.
Most people could stand to be a little more like him, and he could stand to be a little more like everyone else. What's your opinion? Have you ever been in this situation, and if so, how did it turn out?
Anyway, I'm getting off track. Tony's been having a lot of problems with a certain girl he likes- I won't go into detail; that would be rude to him. I've been having problems too, but not really because of people I'm attracted to. They don't exist.
Tony and I are still really good friends, and we tend to trust each other. And Tony is a really good person. In fact, he's too good of a person. He's a rock for the entire world and no one ever supports him, including me. Well, things got really bad for him last week and I've been trying to help him out and he keeps telling me not to because I have my own problems, and I keep telling him not to worry about me because he already worries about too many other people, meanwhile I'm worrying about him.
Do you see the problem here? We need to meet in the middle somehow so we can both help each other, but there's no way for that to happen. Which is rare- I'm generally not that nice and mostly don't care about other peoples' problems; they can deal with it. Except I really care about Tony, and he's the only person I trust. And I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows what's going on with him, too. So it's really a big mess. In my opinion, there can be a situation where friends are too close and nice to each other and me and Tony are in it. It isn't necessarily a bad thing until both of you get hurt worse. And I'm more worried about Tony than me because he worries about everyone and everything, and people always talk to him because he tries to help people; that's just what he does.
Most people could stand to be a little more like him, and he could stand to be a little more like everyone else. What's your opinion? Have you ever been in this situation, and if so, how did it turn out?
Monday, November 17, 2014
How I Can't Write Realistic Fiction, or Why I Haven't Posted in a Month
So my NaNo is not going so well.
Mainly because I have no plot- plots? What are those? Am I, the sci-fi and adventure writer, supposed to come up with a good, historical/realistic fiction plot?
Or maybe the issue isn't in my plot, it's in my subplots, or lack thereof. So this is my admission that I am desperate. Halfway through NaNo, I am having some serious issues coming up with what to write for my next 19,000 words because most of the 21,000 I have so far are utterly useless and are so far, separate parts of the novel that are standing alone. I made a post on the YWP asking for help a few days ago, and it has garnered exactly one response (thanks Desiree!!), so I'm posting it here in hopes that my very very few reader(s) has/have not given up on me and my lack of posts.
Title: I have no subplots and my main plot is too depressing.
(Before I begin, there may be some triggers in my plot. Just to let you know).
"My story is set in the 1960's. In the beginning (part 1), my main character (Emma's) dad is drafted for the Vietnam War, so she gets sent from New York to go live with her Aunt Lucille and cousin Johnny in Montana. Kids make fun of her for being a 'city kid', Johnny can't stand her, and her aunt treats her badly because of her father. Emma does make a friend at school, though, Annie, and she walks to and from school with an older boy named Rory who lives nearby. She also finds advice and a close friend in her neighbor, an old man named Mr. Hansen. Through all of this, Emma writes letters to her father and gets one in return. Her sunt finds it and burns it because she says he is a bad influence on Emma. Part 1 ends with Mr. Hansen having a heart attack and dying, and Emma feeling like it's her fault because she was with him earlier in the day and so upset about her aunt burning the letter that she does not notice the symptoms he is about to have a heart attack.
Part 2: Emma runs away after his death and she's kind of starting to learn that people aren't all honest. The part ends when she finds out her father died 2 years ago, right after she received the first letter, because that was when he committed suicide. He was never drafted for Vietnam, he went to prison for some things that aren't NaNo appropriate and didn't want Emma to know because she was only 11 when he was convicted.
Part 3: I don't even know what happens except that Emma is depressed, and at some point Rory (who is 3 or 4 years older than her) graduates high school and leaves for college, serving only to make her more depressed. It ends with her finding her father's suicide note because she was curious enough to go look through the box her friend sent her three years ago at the end of Part 2. (Before this, she hadn't brought herself to read anything but her father's obituary.)
Part 4: I have no clue what happens except that somehow Emma gets through it and at the end of the novel she is 18, graduating high school, and about to go back to New York.
Basically, I have the main things I want to happen, but not all of it can be so depressing because no one wants to read that. Also, I have to have some stuff in between or it makes no sense, just jumping from one point to the next. I have Emma narrating the past up to the end of Part 3, which then goes to the present tense, so some of that stuff is a little out of order just because of her reflecting and how she remembers it. But currently, there is nothing happy, and no subplots, and that's a problem. Also, Annie is currently a useless character because she's a quiet bookworm and Emma is the complete opposite so I don't know what to do with her. I also don't know what to do with Johnny after part one. He's a year older than Emma, a teacher's pet, and a big superior jerk.
I need help."
...Aannnnyyone?
Mainly because I have no plot- plots? What are those? Am I, the sci-fi and adventure writer, supposed to come up with a good, historical/realistic fiction plot?
Or maybe the issue isn't in my plot, it's in my subplots, or lack thereof. So this is my admission that I am desperate. Halfway through NaNo, I am having some serious issues coming up with what to write for my next 19,000 words because most of the 21,000 I have so far are utterly useless and are so far, separate parts of the novel that are standing alone. I made a post on the YWP asking for help a few days ago, and it has garnered exactly one response (thanks Desiree!!), so I'm posting it here in hopes that my very very few reader(s) has/have not given up on me and my lack of posts.
Title: I have no subplots and my main plot is too depressing.
(Before I begin, there may be some triggers in my plot. Just to let you know).
"My story is set in the 1960's. In the beginning (part 1), my main character (Emma's) dad is drafted for the Vietnam War, so she gets sent from New York to go live with her Aunt Lucille and cousin Johnny in Montana. Kids make fun of her for being a 'city kid', Johnny can't stand her, and her aunt treats her badly because of her father. Emma does make a friend at school, though, Annie, and she walks to and from school with an older boy named Rory who lives nearby. She also finds advice and a close friend in her neighbor, an old man named Mr. Hansen. Through all of this, Emma writes letters to her father and gets one in return. Her sunt finds it and burns it because she says he is a bad influence on Emma. Part 1 ends with Mr. Hansen having a heart attack and dying, and Emma feeling like it's her fault because she was with him earlier in the day and so upset about her aunt burning the letter that she does not notice the symptoms he is about to have a heart attack.
Part 2: Emma runs away after his death and she's kind of starting to learn that people aren't all honest. The part ends when she finds out her father died 2 years ago, right after she received the first letter, because that was when he committed suicide. He was never drafted for Vietnam, he went to prison for some things that aren't NaNo appropriate and didn't want Emma to know because she was only 11 when he was convicted.
Part 3: I don't even know what happens except that Emma is depressed, and at some point Rory (who is 3 or 4 years older than her) graduates high school and leaves for college, serving only to make her more depressed. It ends with her finding her father's suicide note because she was curious enough to go look through the box her friend sent her three years ago at the end of Part 2. (Before this, she hadn't brought herself to read anything but her father's obituary.)
Part 4: I have no clue what happens except that somehow Emma gets through it and at the end of the novel she is 18, graduating high school, and about to go back to New York.
Basically, I have the main things I want to happen, but not all of it can be so depressing because no one wants to read that. Also, I have to have some stuff in between or it makes no sense, just jumping from one point to the next. I have Emma narrating the past up to the end of Part 3, which then goes to the present tense, so some of that stuff is a little out of order just because of her reflecting and how she remembers it. But currently, there is nothing happy, and no subplots, and that's a problem. Also, Annie is currently a useless character because she's a quiet bookworm and Emma is the complete opposite so I don't know what to do with her. I also don't know what to do with Johnny after part one. He's a year older than Emma, a teacher's pet, and a big superior jerk.
I need help."
...Aannnnyyone?
Friday, October 24, 2014
Why I Love Running
First of all, I'm just going to say that one doesn't love running unless they're crazy. Which, all runners to some point are. We're an obsessive people: We can't stand missing training days, were pour over race results endlessly, we get anxious if we don't think we worked hard enough on a particular day, we will run even when we shouldn't. And we cry when we absolutely can't.
But it's all for a good reason. There just something special about it- the rhythmic thud of shoes hitting the pavement, the beat of your heart, your steady breaths. And the bliss in the solitude of running by yourself or the faithful camaraderie of being right next to just a few other people. It reminds you that you're alive, and you can do this, no matter how much you want to stop. You can feel yourself getting stronger with each step you take, and if you've been running for awhile, you remind yourself that you're good at this. Most people can't go out and do what you're doing.
If you're a beginner, there's the power in starting something new. Running tires you out- but when you're new, your legs are fresh. I remember what made me start running distance. I was in grade seven and had always loved to run. I begged my mom to let me do middle school cross country and track and wasn't willing to give up on running even when she said she wouldn't let me. She told me that I'd never be able to run very fast and I'd practice for nothing. No one in my family had ever tried running (or any sport) before and she didn't like sports. So I did some research and found out that my local community center had a youth running club. It was only two days a week, so my mom let me sign up to see if I really liked it.
The first day of practice, I ran the most brutal 4 kilometers of my life. I liked running, sure, but I never realized that it'd be that... hard to go long and not fast, like in tag. My first kilometer took me 6 minutes, and after that I got knocked to 7 minutes, then 9, then 8 once I realized how slow 9 minutes was.
But slowly, I improved. We did a 10k race at the end and even though I ran 71 minutes, it was still about 7 minutes per kilometer for each lap, nowhere near the 9 minutes I had done on the first day. So I kept running. Not much, but I kept the muscle memory I gained in 7th grade and never again ran like I did that first day. I did my school's winter running club in 8th grade. Youth running club again in 9th.
And then my mom let me do cross country. Except for maybe writing, I have never found something I liked better and I can't understand for the life of me why more people don't run. Maybe it really is because only crazy masochists who enjoy the pain like it. The season is over now and I don't know what to do with myself except run. I dropped 4 minutes in my 5k and I don't plan to gain them back any time soon. I'm not running as much as I did in practice because everyone is supposed to take time off since cross country exhausts your body. But my running routes aren't restricted to my neighbourhood anymore and there's something about the freedom of looking at your watch and saying to yourself, "I have 45 minutes. Where do I want to go?" And just... going until you have to come back. I did just over 5 miles today and I'm sore as heck because I have a cold and I was already tired, but I wouldn't give anything for how good it makes me feel when I look back and tell myself, "I did that. For 45 minutes of my life I had complete freedom and I chose to do that, go there, and I know that I wouldn't trade the ability to run for the world."
But it's all for a good reason. There just something special about it- the rhythmic thud of shoes hitting the pavement, the beat of your heart, your steady breaths. And the bliss in the solitude of running by yourself or the faithful camaraderie of being right next to just a few other people. It reminds you that you're alive, and you can do this, no matter how much you want to stop. You can feel yourself getting stronger with each step you take, and if you've been running for awhile, you remind yourself that you're good at this. Most people can't go out and do what you're doing.
If you're a beginner, there's the power in starting something new. Running tires you out- but when you're new, your legs are fresh. I remember what made me start running distance. I was in grade seven and had always loved to run. I begged my mom to let me do middle school cross country and track and wasn't willing to give up on running even when she said she wouldn't let me. She told me that I'd never be able to run very fast and I'd practice for nothing. No one in my family had ever tried running (or any sport) before and she didn't like sports. So I did some research and found out that my local community center had a youth running club. It was only two days a week, so my mom let me sign up to see if I really liked it.
The first day of practice, I ran the most brutal 4 kilometers of my life. I liked running, sure, but I never realized that it'd be that... hard to go long and not fast, like in tag. My first kilometer took me 6 minutes, and after that I got knocked to 7 minutes, then 9, then 8 once I realized how slow 9 minutes was.
But slowly, I improved. We did a 10k race at the end and even though I ran 71 minutes, it was still about 7 minutes per kilometer for each lap, nowhere near the 9 minutes I had done on the first day. So I kept running. Not much, but I kept the muscle memory I gained in 7th grade and never again ran like I did that first day. I did my school's winter running club in 8th grade. Youth running club again in 9th.
And then my mom let me do cross country. Except for maybe writing, I have never found something I liked better and I can't understand for the life of me why more people don't run. Maybe it really is because only crazy masochists who enjoy the pain like it. The season is over now and I don't know what to do with myself except run. I dropped 4 minutes in my 5k and I don't plan to gain them back any time soon. I'm not running as much as I did in practice because everyone is supposed to take time off since cross country exhausts your body. But my running routes aren't restricted to my neighbourhood anymore and there's something about the freedom of looking at your watch and saying to yourself, "I have 45 minutes. Where do I want to go?" And just... going until you have to come back. I did just over 5 miles today and I'm sore as heck because I have a cold and I was already tired, but I wouldn't give anything for how good it makes me feel when I look back and tell myself, "I did that. For 45 minutes of my life I had complete freedom and I chose to do that, go there, and I know that I wouldn't trade the ability to run for the world."
Monday, October 20, 2014
My Case Against Homework
Now, I'm not trying to sound like a lazy or overly rebellious student. Believe me, I'm not- I've gotten straight A's almost my entire life. I do my homework, or did. Lately I've just been doing enough to make it look like I did all my homework and it isn't out of laziness. School burnout, exhaustion, and a literal mental overload caused by the sheer amount of homework I have all play a part.
During the cross country season, I get home around 5:00, shower, eat dinner, and usually begin homework around 6. That should give me plenty of time to do my homework, have some actual downtime to interact with my family, and go to bed by 9:30 so I get the recommended minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night. But that simply isn't the case. On a typical night, my homework is done around 10:30 -without procrastination!- then I get ready for bed and am usually asleep by 11. So on a typical weeknight I am only getting about 6 and a half hours of sleep, not even in the same locale as 8 hours. Then, I get up for school the next morning, get through the 7 hour day, run practice, and everlasting study and homework cycle repeats.
Okay, so that's for someone who participates in a sport. What about someone who comes directly home from school every day? This hypothetical person arrives home at 3:00, eats a snack, and starts their homework at 3:15. They then do homework for two hours and eat dinner. If dinner takes about a half hour, this should bring them to 6:15. And assuming they have the same amount of homework as me and most people I know, they still have 2 and a half hours left. Which brings them to 8:45. They now have plenty of time to get ready for bed and be asleep at 9:30, but what about social development? Schools and teachers too often discourage this in favour of doing more schoolwork, but should they really scoff at this idea of a social life so easily?
As adults, life won't be all work and no play, and there's a reason for that: it leads to mental burnout. Studies show that the average high schooler today has the same level of anxiety as a typical psychiatric patient in the 1950's. The amount of schoolwork we are given is literally pushing us to the point of insanity. Besides, teenagers will need to have certain social skills that they can't learn from discussing only school-related topics with their peers, and in the real world, as can be inferred from above, they will have time for this. A full time job works 40 hours per week- 8 hours each day Monday-Friday with weekends off. I understand the notion of working overtime and having to tend to certain events, but they certainly don't take up the rest of your time with sheer deskwork that is too often also busywork. School goes 7 hours a day Monday-Friday; therefore, to really prepare high school students for the real world they should not have more than 5-8 hours of homework per week (accounting for overtime), and certainly not 4 and a half per night.
In conclusion, schools should give less homework for the sake of students' health, both mental and physical, and to develop important social skills. As a teacher I had in grade eight once quoted, "Don't let your education get in the way of your education."
During the cross country season, I get home around 5:00, shower, eat dinner, and usually begin homework around 6. That should give me plenty of time to do my homework, have some actual downtime to interact with my family, and go to bed by 9:30 so I get the recommended minimum of 8 hours of sleep per night. But that simply isn't the case. On a typical night, my homework is done around 10:30 -without procrastination!- then I get ready for bed and am usually asleep by 11. So on a typical weeknight I am only getting about 6 and a half hours of sleep, not even in the same locale as 8 hours. Then, I get up for school the next morning, get through the 7 hour day, run practice, and everlasting study and homework cycle repeats.
Okay, so that's for someone who participates in a sport. What about someone who comes directly home from school every day? This hypothetical person arrives home at 3:00, eats a snack, and starts their homework at 3:15. They then do homework for two hours and eat dinner. If dinner takes about a half hour, this should bring them to 6:15. And assuming they have the same amount of homework as me and most people I know, they still have 2 and a half hours left. Which brings them to 8:45. They now have plenty of time to get ready for bed and be asleep at 9:30, but what about social development? Schools and teachers too often discourage this in favour of doing more schoolwork, but should they really scoff at this idea of a social life so easily?
As adults, life won't be all work and no play, and there's a reason for that: it leads to mental burnout. Studies show that the average high schooler today has the same level of anxiety as a typical psychiatric patient in the 1950's. The amount of schoolwork we are given is literally pushing us to the point of insanity. Besides, teenagers will need to have certain social skills that they can't learn from discussing only school-related topics with their peers, and in the real world, as can be inferred from above, they will have time for this. A full time job works 40 hours per week- 8 hours each day Monday-Friday with weekends off. I understand the notion of working overtime and having to tend to certain events, but they certainly don't take up the rest of your time with sheer deskwork that is too often also busywork. School goes 7 hours a day Monday-Friday; therefore, to really prepare high school students for the real world they should not have more than 5-8 hours of homework per week (accounting for overtime), and certainly not 4 and a half per night.
In conclusion, schools should give less homework for the sake of students' health, both mental and physical, and to develop important social skills. As a teacher I had in grade eight once quoted, "Don't let your education get in the way of your education."
Sunday, October 12, 2014
New NaNo, new genre
For this year's NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month), I'm venturing into the place where no one I know in real life would ever expect to find me (and that's just how I want it): Historical Fiction. Usually, I'm a dystopian and sci-fi kind of person to the extreme point where my characters aren't always recognizable as human beings with relatable emotions and abilities anymore: you know what I'm talking about. While Tris and Katniss may be awesome, and sure, there are some ways you can tell they're human, who is actually in a situation that would be familiar to either of them? (And conversely, is their situation ever familiar to you?) I'm not saying anything against stories like that -I enjoyed those trilogies as much as the next person- but I wanted something more realistic, closer to home.
I hated history in every form -subject, class, the grades I get in history class- until I decided to set my story in the Vietnam War era. Then I found myself researching the Vietnam War... on my own time. The history isn't my favorite part of it, but I do love being able to put myself in the shoes of the daughter of a man who was drafted for the war. While I'm 15 years old and obviously have never experienced my father being drafted for war like my main character, Emma, has, I can still put her in a realistic world and have her live a realistic life that honestly, most people can relate to. They know what she's talking about. She's going to school, trying to make friends, trying to fit into a new place, and even if you've never been the new kid, she still goes home every day and to sleep every night and she's not on a train to a capitol where she's going to shoot bows and arrows, and she isn't climbing abandoned ferris wheels and taking aptitude tests. She's doing what you do. And to me, that makes it so much easier to get into a novel and connect with characters.
I've always loved reading sci-fi and dystopian for the fast pace and crazy suspense and adventure, but if I had to pick favorites every single one that comes to mind is realistic or historical fiction. Summer Hawk by Deborah Savage and Waiting For Normal by Leslie Connor come to mind.
I've never written in this genre before and I'm not sure how it will go, but I'm actually doing preplanning for this year's Nano (!), and I can already see how much more I have than when I was writing sci-fi and had a tendency to jump from one plot point to the next without developing my characters as human beings. Last year, I was focusing on having my characters running away from a sinister government that wanted to experiment on them and throwing in some awkward romance scenes without bothering to ask what they were running from. Why was the government sinister? What happened that changed our world into theirs? Why did a genetic mutation come about allowing them to be struck by lightning? It couldn't just be random, that goes against everything dictated by biology. And I didn't want to focus on the running, hiding, motion. I wanted to zoom in on the small moments that come in a world that, while it may change to make sci-fi reality someday, isn't so alien yet. Or even a time, like the 1960's, where the modern world was evolving but yet still simpler than today.
A time I and the readers can understand. And that's why writing in a different genre is so important to me. Because it isn't new, and different, not really, and I'm starting to get older and see that it isn't about being the first, or furthest ahead- for me at least, it's about creating what I know and making it beautiful.
Are you planning to participate in NaNoWriMo? If so, what are your plans? Plot? Characters? Genre?
How do you want to make your readers feel?
I hated history in every form -subject, class, the grades I get in history class- until I decided to set my story in the Vietnam War era. Then I found myself researching the Vietnam War... on my own time. The history isn't my favorite part of it, but I do love being able to put myself in the shoes of the daughter of a man who was drafted for the war. While I'm 15 years old and obviously have never experienced my father being drafted for war like my main character, Emma, has, I can still put her in a realistic world and have her live a realistic life that honestly, most people can relate to. They know what she's talking about. She's going to school, trying to make friends, trying to fit into a new place, and even if you've never been the new kid, she still goes home every day and to sleep every night and she's not on a train to a capitol where she's going to shoot bows and arrows, and she isn't climbing abandoned ferris wheels and taking aptitude tests. She's doing what you do. And to me, that makes it so much easier to get into a novel and connect with characters.
I've always loved reading sci-fi and dystopian for the fast pace and crazy suspense and adventure, but if I had to pick favorites every single one that comes to mind is realistic or historical fiction. Summer Hawk by Deborah Savage and Waiting For Normal by Leslie Connor come to mind.
I've never written in this genre before and I'm not sure how it will go, but I'm actually doing preplanning for this year's Nano (!), and I can already see how much more I have than when I was writing sci-fi and had a tendency to jump from one plot point to the next without developing my characters as human beings. Last year, I was focusing on having my characters running away from a sinister government that wanted to experiment on them and throwing in some awkward romance scenes without bothering to ask what they were running from. Why was the government sinister? What happened that changed our world into theirs? Why did a genetic mutation come about allowing them to be struck by lightning? It couldn't just be random, that goes against everything dictated by biology. And I didn't want to focus on the running, hiding, motion. I wanted to zoom in on the small moments that come in a world that, while it may change to make sci-fi reality someday, isn't so alien yet. Or even a time, like the 1960's, where the modern world was evolving but yet still simpler than today.
A time I and the readers can understand. And that's why writing in a different genre is so important to me. Because it isn't new, and different, not really, and I'm starting to get older and see that it isn't about being the first, or furthest ahead- for me at least, it's about creating what I know and making it beautiful.
Are you planning to participate in NaNoWriMo? If so, what are your plans? Plot? Characters? Genre?
How do you want to make your readers feel?
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Querencia
This weekend, our assignment for English class was to fill out a few charts about our Querencia, and then write a page describing it. The word "querencia" is Spanish, meaning a safe place, one that molds to your character and just where you feel the most at home out of anywhere in the whole world. It has its origins in the verb "querer", which means to want, desire, or even to love.
Maybe your querencia is in a simple a place as your own bedroom; or maybe, it's a vacation spot you've been to once and never gone back there. Or like mine- a place I've never been to before that I want so badly to create.
It sits in the mountains in the North, a tiny log cabin with only a small cleared yard and a trodden dirt path leading up to it, swallowed entirely by a vast wilderness. Inside the cabin lies a room, a room where anything is possible. The floors are wooden and the walls are white, the only adornments floor length curtains rustling in the breeze that slips through an open bay window.
My only two possessions in the whole room are a pen, a small, beat-up journal, and a netbook. That's where I'll do all my research and make the infant ideas in the journal blossom into something more that I probably never imagined they could be. Though the room is bare it is never empty or unlived in, for each day I paint the walls with my mind, decorating them with posters, photographs, characters. Lives. Lives that bustle through all the days when I am gone, be them blustery snowdrifts, cool crisp apple-days, storms of flowers and lightning, or settled mildly warm hazes. Yet only when I come do the voices rise into a silent cacophony that fills the air with at once nothing and everything, drowning out the howling wolves and chirping birds that nothing can understand except querencia.
Where is your querencia? Is it in the woods, by the beach, in the city? Noisy or quiet- or both? Tell me!
Maybe your querencia is in a simple a place as your own bedroom; or maybe, it's a vacation spot you've been to once and never gone back there. Or like mine- a place I've never been to before that I want so badly to create.
It sits in the mountains in the North, a tiny log cabin with only a small cleared yard and a trodden dirt path leading up to it, swallowed entirely by a vast wilderness. Inside the cabin lies a room, a room where anything is possible. The floors are wooden and the walls are white, the only adornments floor length curtains rustling in the breeze that slips through an open bay window.
My only two possessions in the whole room are a pen, a small, beat-up journal, and a netbook. That's where I'll do all my research and make the infant ideas in the journal blossom into something more that I probably never imagined they could be. Though the room is bare it is never empty or unlived in, for each day I paint the walls with my mind, decorating them with posters, photographs, characters. Lives. Lives that bustle through all the days when I am gone, be them blustery snowdrifts, cool crisp apple-days, storms of flowers and lightning, or settled mildly warm hazes. Yet only when I come do the voices rise into a silent cacophony that fills the air with at once nothing and everything, drowning out the howling wolves and chirping birds that nothing can understand except querencia.
Where is your querencia? Is it in the woods, by the beach, in the city? Noisy or quiet- or both? Tell me!
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Pepe Le Pew takes a vacation
A few mornings ago, right when I was getting ready for school, we discovered by means of scent that we have a celebrity visiting. His name is Peppy Le Pew, and my lucky dog had the pleasure of a face-to-butt meeting with him.
More specifically, dog's face, skunk's butt.
We don't know much about how long Peppy is staying- does he live here now, or is he just passing through and wanted to draw attention from the North American crowd? We really hope he isn't taking up permanent residence because he isn't a very good guest, as you could probably imagine. He's caused nothing but trouble: runs to the pharmacy for hydrogen peroxide, and multiple washes per day with baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and vinegar. He's also a costly guest: besides the hydrogen peroxide, we lost the dog's collar, a leather computer case, and two doormats to the stench.
And of course, there's the effect that having a celebrity stay at your house causes at school. You know how it is with celebrities; they're either really good, or really bad, and you can imagine which category our dear Peppy falls into. I had to warn everyone all day long that I smelled like skunk because of my poor dog getting sprayed and bringing it in the house. On the plus side, I got free vanilla hand sanitizer because my friend decided she couldn't stand it anymore. :D
The dog still smells, but it isn't as bad, and the house only smells in really specific areas, like where he lies down a lot or where he greets us at the door. Thanks, Peppy!
More specifically, dog's face, skunk's butt.
We don't know much about how long Peppy is staying- does he live here now, or is he just passing through and wanted to draw attention from the North American crowd? We really hope he isn't taking up permanent residence because he isn't a very good guest, as you could probably imagine. He's caused nothing but trouble: runs to the pharmacy for hydrogen peroxide, and multiple washes per day with baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and vinegar. He's also a costly guest: besides the hydrogen peroxide, we lost the dog's collar, a leather computer case, and two doormats to the stench.
And of course, there's the effect that having a celebrity stay at your house causes at school. You know how it is with celebrities; they're either really good, or really bad, and you can imagine which category our dear Peppy falls into. I had to warn everyone all day long that I smelled like skunk because of my poor dog getting sprayed and bringing it in the house. On the plus side, I got free vanilla hand sanitizer because my friend decided she couldn't stand it anymore. :D
The dog still smells, but it isn't as bad, and the house only smells in really specific areas, like where he lies down a lot or where he greets us at the door. Thanks, Peppy!
Friday, August 22, 2014
*falls over and turns into happy puddle*
On Monday we had our first cross country meet and I PRed (Personal Record) by 6 minutes and 29 seconds. My official time was 25 minutes and 19 seconds for the 5k, which thrilled me, and then we found out that the course was about 400 meters too long. That made me mad because it was a school meet and they should have changed it, but it also means my actual time, assuming I kept the same pace, was about 23:30. :D Yay! I also moved up on the team, from 60 out of 126 to 48 out of 126. I want to move up a speed group soon. Besides the fact that the second group has dri-fit shirts, and the third, wher eI am now, has polyester. Which is light, but still.
Dri-fit.
We have another meet tomorrow and I really want to get under 24:30. My goal is 25 though... just in case the 400 extra meters didn't exist. Also, I have a very hard time believing that I ran it in 23:30. That just sounds crazy fast. I know I was going fast... But was I really under an 8 minute mile? A 5 minute kilometer?
I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
I need good blog post ideas.
Dri-fit.
We have another meet tomorrow and I really want to get under 24:30. My goal is 25 though... just in case the 400 extra meters didn't exist. Also, I have a very hard time believing that I ran it in 23:30. That just sounds crazy fast. I know I was going fast... But was I really under an 8 minute mile? A 5 minute kilometer?
I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
I need good blog post ideas.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Six Word Memoirs
Welcome to the I'm-too-lazy-to-write-a-proper-post post!
So school started on Thursday, and our first English assignment is a six word memoir. In case you don't know, that's a story that encompasses your entire lfe or a significant piece of it in 6 words. We have to draw a picture for a background by Monday, and the teacer said to not spend too much time on it, but hey- I have water-colour pencils and too much free time. So I don't really care if it takes me two hours, this thing is going to be elaborate and over the top because... I don't know. That's what I do. It's fun. The one I'm going with is "Lost in this God forsaken city". I'm going to create a grey cityscape background with yellow in the windows on buildings and for the words. The other ones I came up with are:
-Snow capped pines fill my horizon
-Someone get me out of here
-I don't know what's going on
CAn you come up with any? Do you ave any from the past? Tell me about them!
So school started on Thursday, and our first English assignment is a six word memoir. In case you don't know, that's a story that encompasses your entire lfe or a significant piece of it in 6 words. We have to draw a picture for a background by Monday, and the teacer said to not spend too much time on it, but hey- I have water-colour pencils and too much free time. So I don't really care if it takes me two hours, this thing is going to be elaborate and over the top because... I don't know. That's what I do. It's fun. The one I'm going with is "Lost in this God forsaken city". I'm going to create a grey cityscape background with yellow in the windows on buildings and for the words. The other ones I came up with are:
-Snow capped pines fill my horizon
-Someone get me out of here
-I don't know what's going on
CAn you come up with any? Do you ave any from the past? Tell me about them!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
I feel sick.
Okay, so sorry I haven't posted but we went on vacation and I've been super busy with Camp Nano and summer homework and cross country and a week from today is the first day of school.
And I've just been having some seriously bad luck lately.
Yesterday, I think I may have downloaded a computer virus. I clicked on a website and got a big scary message that said it was from Interpol! I tried to close out of the internet, but it wouldn't let me do anything and... I was really scared. After freaking out and convinceing myself that it had to be a scam, I forced my computer into shutdown and restarted it, to find that the message on my browser was gone without a trace. I looked it up in my search engine and it turns out this is a computer virus!!!!!
Great.
It doesn't help that something in the message is my newest trigger, and a few days before yesterday I got triggered really badly from a situation that it was in that I'd been hoping not to remember. I've had three panic attacks since last night and..... I don't even know. I typed something about it into a letter on ywp nanowrimo and there's a chance my irl best friend saw it and I love her but I don't want her to know I have problems with that sort of thing.
Also, I didn't get enough sleep last night and yesterday in cross country we ran a steep 3/4 mile hill five times. So today during the run I was sore, tired, and then I almost had a panic attack in the middle of it. Thankfully, that one was prevented.
Then I went to the eye doctor and got contacts! Which is nice, because it means I no longer have to wear glasses while running. However, it looks really different through contacts than glasses and I had a maor headache after three and a half hours, and I was hungry, and my mom had looked at my computer and said she didn't think anything needed to be done about it if there was a virus, but I am so darn nervous and my brother was going through his usual extensive list of everything he finds wrong with me...
and I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Great. Great just great!!!! Wow! Good job, Anna. You rock. UGH!!!!!!!! ksdahfqicwjketc Second time in a month that I've thrown up because of anxiety problems piling up on top of each other. I'm seriously going to lose it.
Sorry for the negative post. But I'm really having a hard time right now. Sometimes, the world just doesn't like me much and this is one of those times.
And I've just been having some seriously bad luck lately.
Yesterday, I think I may have downloaded a computer virus. I clicked on a website and got a big scary message that said it was from Interpol! I tried to close out of the internet, but it wouldn't let me do anything and... I was really scared. After freaking out and convinceing myself that it had to be a scam, I forced my computer into shutdown and restarted it, to find that the message on my browser was gone without a trace. I looked it up in my search engine and it turns out this is a computer virus!!!!!
Great.
It doesn't help that something in the message is my newest trigger, and a few days before yesterday I got triggered really badly from a situation that it was in that I'd been hoping not to remember. I've had three panic attacks since last night and..... I don't even know. I typed something about it into a letter on ywp nanowrimo and there's a chance my irl best friend saw it and I love her but I don't want her to know I have problems with that sort of thing.
Also, I didn't get enough sleep last night and yesterday in cross country we ran a steep 3/4 mile hill five times. So today during the run I was sore, tired, and then I almost had a panic attack in the middle of it. Thankfully, that one was prevented.
Then I went to the eye doctor and got contacts! Which is nice, because it means I no longer have to wear glasses while running. However, it looks really different through contacts than glasses and I had a maor headache after three and a half hours, and I was hungry, and my mom had looked at my computer and said she didn't think anything needed to be done about it if there was a virus, but I am so darn nervous and my brother was going through his usual extensive list of everything he finds wrong with me...
and I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Great. Great just great!!!! Wow! Good job, Anna. You rock. UGH!!!!!!!! ksdahfqicwjketc Second time in a month that I've thrown up because of anxiety problems piling up on top of each other. I'm seriously going to lose it.
Sorry for the negative post. But I'm really having a hard time right now. Sometimes, the world just doesn't like me much and this is one of those times.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Rich Dance Moms in Convertible BMWs
((Okay, first off... I can't get the new url. So I guess it will be staying how it is for awhile until I can think of something else to change it to. Sorry.))
Now really, there are no types of people on this planet who are more self-righteous, rude, and downright nasty than middle-aged dance moms who drive convertible BMWs. You know the kind. The mothers of all the popular girls at school who wear makeup in the 5th grade, have 'boyfriends' in 6th, think they're better than you all through middle school, and let boys do some innapropriate stuff to them in the hallways in high school. Oh, and freak out when anyone isn't straight because God forbid!! The person could make a move on them! (As if they have any interest in those freaks.)
Anyway, my high school cross country team has regularly scheduled practices 4 times a week. We meet at the school, run, and then do push-ups, sit ups, and other things like that when we get back. We're near one of the main entrances, but we're always polite about it. You know, leaving a wide path in case someone needs to get through, staying on the very edges of the pavement, that sort of thing. Not bothering anyone.
Well, this week, there's some sort of national dance competition taking place and competitors have been practicing in the high school cafeteria, just beyond the doors where xc meets. Which isn't surprising, lots of things take place there. It's a big school. Most of the time the people are very courteous.
Unlike the dancers and their moms, who think that, just because they rented out the cafeteria for a week, they now own the school. Both of our coaches had to leave about 10 minutes early, so they left Elizabeth, the team captain, in charge. The second Elizabeth was left in charge, who would come out but a rude dance mom that probably drives a BMV convertible? (Or something like that. You know. Sporty and expensive?)
She walked through the perfectly wide path we'd left and stopped at Elizabeth and said in a not-very-nice tone, "Are you in charge?"
"Yes, I am now," Elizabeth said, "the coaches just left."
"Oh. Well. Can you get your girls to move off the pavement here? It's making the dancers feel awkward when they have to walk through you guys. People paid thousands of dollars to be here and it's not fair to them when they have to feel uncomfortable walking through you guys."
Elizabeth just blinked. "Oh. Uh, okay."
The dance mom didn't even thank her or anything, just went back inside. Therefore, we were effectively booted from our regular place at a regularly scheduled practice, like we didn't have as much right to it as the too-cool-for-you dancers, because their rich, too-cool-for-you parents had paid money to be there and they shouldn't have to deal with these people who attend the school invading their sacred practice.
Hello. We attend this public school. We pay taxes for this public school. There is a sports entry fee for this public school. I'm sorry you don't like us being here, but we were here first, and if anything have more right to this place than you rich snobs. And you know what? Maybe it's awkward for us to have to deal with your slutty 8 year old daughters walking around in 3-inch heels, crop tops, and more makeup than most 30-year-olds combined. And why should your kids feel uncomfortable? There's plenty of room for them, and anyway, they aren't the ones doing their push-ups and ab work out there. But we just moved, because we are decent people and don't want to make a fuss with people who think they're entitled. But when we found a new spot, even Elizabeth didn't mind that we were talking about the lady's nastiness behind her back and she's normally really sweet and kind.
We have practice tomorrow, which is the day of their dance competition. I hope it's at the same exact time as cross country. We need our revenge. Today there was talk of laying on the ground, not moving, completely in their way. I wonder if we'll do something if given the chance.
Now really, there are no types of people on this planet who are more self-righteous, rude, and downright nasty than middle-aged dance moms who drive convertible BMWs. You know the kind. The mothers of all the popular girls at school who wear makeup in the 5th grade, have 'boyfriends' in 6th, think they're better than you all through middle school, and let boys do some innapropriate stuff to them in the hallways in high school. Oh, and freak out when anyone isn't straight because God forbid!! The person could make a move on them! (As if they have any interest in those freaks.)
Anyway, my high school cross country team has regularly scheduled practices 4 times a week. We meet at the school, run, and then do push-ups, sit ups, and other things like that when we get back. We're near one of the main entrances, but we're always polite about it. You know, leaving a wide path in case someone needs to get through, staying on the very edges of the pavement, that sort of thing. Not bothering anyone.
Well, this week, there's some sort of national dance competition taking place and competitors have been practicing in the high school cafeteria, just beyond the doors where xc meets. Which isn't surprising, lots of things take place there. It's a big school. Most of the time the people are very courteous.
Unlike the dancers and their moms, who think that, just because they rented out the cafeteria for a week, they now own the school. Both of our coaches had to leave about 10 minutes early, so they left Elizabeth, the team captain, in charge. The second Elizabeth was left in charge, who would come out but a rude dance mom that probably drives a BMV convertible? (Or something like that. You know. Sporty and expensive?)
She walked through the perfectly wide path we'd left and stopped at Elizabeth and said in a not-very-nice tone, "Are you in charge?"
"Yes, I am now," Elizabeth said, "the coaches just left."
"Oh. Well. Can you get your girls to move off the pavement here? It's making the dancers feel awkward when they have to walk through you guys. People paid thousands of dollars to be here and it's not fair to them when they have to feel uncomfortable walking through you guys."
Elizabeth just blinked. "Oh. Uh, okay."
The dance mom didn't even thank her or anything, just went back inside. Therefore, we were effectively booted from our regular place at a regularly scheduled practice, like we didn't have as much right to it as the too-cool-for-you dancers, because their rich, too-cool-for-you parents had paid money to be there and they shouldn't have to deal with these people who attend the school invading their sacred practice.
Hello. We attend this public school. We pay taxes for this public school. There is a sports entry fee for this public school. I'm sorry you don't like us being here, but we were here first, and if anything have more right to this place than you rich snobs. And you know what? Maybe it's awkward for us to have to deal with your slutty 8 year old daughters walking around in 3-inch heels, crop tops, and more makeup than most 30-year-olds combined. And why should your kids feel uncomfortable? There's plenty of room for them, and anyway, they aren't the ones doing their push-ups and ab work out there. But we just moved, because we are decent people and don't want to make a fuss with people who think they're entitled. But when we found a new spot, even Elizabeth didn't mind that we were talking about the lady's nastiness behind her back and she's normally really sweet and kind.
We have practice tomorrow, which is the day of their dance competition. I hope it's at the same exact time as cross country. We need our revenge. Today there was talk of laying on the ground, not moving, completely in their way. I wonder if we'll do something if given the chance.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
ONE WEEK NOTICE
In one week, I am going to change my domain name (link) to: ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com
If I can't get this link I'll tell you in a week and come up with a different one.
If I can't get this link I'll tell you in a week and come up with a different one.
Shin Splints!!!
A few weeks ago, I posted about how excited I was that I was finally going to be able to do cross country this year.
How quickly excitement dwindles.
Oh, don't get me wrong; I'm still super excited to run. I love running and I have (had, I guess...) ambitions to be in the top 20 runners on my team. This would be a big accomplishment, since there are 110-120 runners on the team. I'm probably somewhere between 30 and 40 right now. I was doing really well though. Pushing myself, going a little faster every time.
Even though 2 weeks ago, after the second practice, my shins were starting to hurt.
At first, it was easy enough to ignore. I figured I was just sore and it wasn't a big deal, so I kept pushing myself. But they kept recurring, and by last week my shins also hurt during the half-mile warm up run, and for the first 5 minutes or so of th emain run. They were also worse afterwards, and hurt for longer and just felt weak.
...I have shin splints. Go me. They're not quite bad enough that I can't run, so far my coach's advice has been, "They're common, and yours aren't bad enough that you have to stop, so if you rest enough and ice them and take care of it, you should be able to run through them at just a little less than your normal intensity." Maybe I'm whining and should just get over it, but it's really upsetting me because I wanted top 20. And now I can't push myself as hard, so the top 20 are going to be set in stone and I won't be able to catch up. And it's a constant reminder, because even now after 12 hours of practice being over they still don't feel right. Sorry for being such a downer in this post, I really try not to be. I just can't imagine what people with worse shin splints go through.
How quickly excitement dwindles.
Oh, don't get me wrong; I'm still super excited to run. I love running and I have (had, I guess...) ambitions to be in the top 20 runners on my team. This would be a big accomplishment, since there are 110-120 runners on the team. I'm probably somewhere between 30 and 40 right now. I was doing really well though. Pushing myself, going a little faster every time.
Even though 2 weeks ago, after the second practice, my shins were starting to hurt.
At first, it was easy enough to ignore. I figured I was just sore and it wasn't a big deal, so I kept pushing myself. But they kept recurring, and by last week my shins also hurt during the half-mile warm up run, and for the first 5 minutes or so of th emain run. They were also worse afterwards, and hurt for longer and just felt weak.
...I have shin splints. Go me. They're not quite bad enough that I can't run, so far my coach's advice has been, "They're common, and yours aren't bad enough that you have to stop, so if you rest enough and ice them and take care of it, you should be able to run through them at just a little less than your normal intensity." Maybe I'm whining and should just get over it, but it's really upsetting me because I wanted top 20. And now I can't push myself as hard, so the top 20 are going to be set in stone and I won't be able to catch up. And it's a constant reminder, because even now after 12 hours of practice being over they still don't feel right. Sorry for being such a downer in this post, I really try not to be. I just can't imagine what people with worse shin splints go through.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
I attempted to draw!
Like, actually draw draw. With details and shading and stuff.
In my opinion, it's more evidence that I probably should be banned from ever again coming within ten feet of black colored pencils and paper. But I've gotten all compliments on it on ywp nanowrimo so far, so maybe I'm being too hard on myself. It is my first time, after all. I was pretty proud anyway until my mom just looked at it and said, "Yeah. That looks good, sweetie," in a monotone that suggested she wasn't at all impressed. I guess I just have to keep telling myself I can only get better from a first try.
Here it is:
What do you think? (Also, just so you know, the shading actually isn't as spectacular as it looks. It was just black coloured pencil, remember, so it's grainier than that on the picture.)
Anyway, this is really just a filler post. And it's late and I have to get ready for bed. Goodnight!
In my opinion, it's more evidence that I probably should be banned from ever again coming within ten feet of black colored pencils and paper. But I've gotten all compliments on it on ywp nanowrimo so far, so maybe I'm being too hard on myself. It is my first time, after all. I was pretty proud anyway until my mom just looked at it and said, "Yeah. That looks good, sweetie," in a monotone that suggested she wasn't at all impressed. I guess I just have to keep telling myself I can only get better from a first try.
Here it is:
What do you think? (Also, just so you know, the shading actually isn't as spectacular as it looks. It was just black coloured pencil, remember, so it's grainier than that on the picture.)
Anyway, this is really just a filler post. And it's late and I have to get ready for bed. Goodnight!
Friday, June 20, 2014
LGBTQIAP+ Pride month!!!!!!
I'm reaaaalllllyy bored today. No one is online and I've been meaning to post something like this since the beginning of June. Bad Anna. Stop procrastinating. I know. I don't sound very prideful, do I? Anyway... um... yeah. It's pride month! I've had it in my siggie on ywp nanowrimo, but I haven't been able to post pride flags, and yay, I finally have a do-nothing day today where I'm able to. Don't you love do-nothing days? Doesn't everyone?:) (Well, I had cross country this morning but it was a fairly easy practice)
Back on topic.
Demigirl:
(I love this one!! It's so pretty.)
Asexual:
Biromantic:
Aromantic:
I decided to post both aromantic and biromantic flags because I fall somewhere between the two, officially I identify as grey-biromantic. And since I'm a demigirl, my preferred pronouns are ce/cir in case you were wondering, but I won't be too mad if you forget and use she/her. I might give you a reminder to use ce/cir, but really anything but 'it' or 'he/him' will work if you aren't sure. ;) Please don't call me 'it'. I am, in fact, a human being. *mindblown*XD
If you want to know what any of the terms I used up there mean, just ask me in the comments and I'll gladly answer you. :)
But if you're going to say something negative towards me for being LGBT+ or the LGBT+ community in general, please either leave it out of your comment or don't comment at all. I don't mean to sound harsh, it's just that I read and hear a lot of that on a daily basis and it's really hurtful and I don't want to see it on my blog. Think of it this way: you didn't choose to be straight anymore than I chose to be queer; which is saying, it isn't a choice. It's who I am and can't just change it or repent or ask forgiveness from God (it isn't a sin) and I don't want to hear why you disagree with it. I don't think I have anyone reading or commenting that is against LGBT+, but this of course would be the post I pick up a new reader who will say something against it.
Wow. That came out lots more ranty than I intended. Sorry guys. :) Anyways, happy LGBT+ pride month!
Back on topic.
Demigirl:
(I love this one!! It's so pretty.)
Asexual:
Biromantic:
Aromantic:
I decided to post both aromantic and biromantic flags because I fall somewhere between the two, officially I identify as grey-biromantic. And since I'm a demigirl, my preferred pronouns are ce/cir in case you were wondering, but I won't be too mad if you forget and use she/her. I might give you a reminder to use ce/cir, but really anything but 'it' or 'he/him' will work if you aren't sure. ;) Please don't call me 'it'. I am, in fact, a human being. *mindblown*XD
If you want to know what any of the terms I used up there mean, just ask me in the comments and I'll gladly answer you. :)
But if you're going to say something negative towards me for being LGBT+ or the LGBT+ community in general, please either leave it out of your comment or don't comment at all. I don't mean to sound harsh, it's just that I read and hear a lot of that on a daily basis and it's really hurtful and I don't want to see it on my blog. Think of it this way: you didn't choose to be straight anymore than I chose to be queer; which is saying, it isn't a choice. It's who I am and can't just change it or repent or ask forgiveness from God (it isn't a sin) and I don't want to hear why you disagree with it. I don't think I have anyone reading or commenting that is against LGBT+, but this of course would be the post I pick up a new reader who will say something against it.
Wow. That came out lots more ranty than I intended. Sorry guys. :) Anyways, happy LGBT+ pride month!
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Cross Country started!
The first day was Monday, and the second was today. I have really mixed feelings about the whole thing. On one hand, I'm realy happy!!!! I've been bugging my mom to let me do it for years, since the summer before 7th grade and now I'm going into 10th. She always had pretty useless reasons, like that she didn't want to watch meets or drive me home from practice. Also, I really like running, there's no chance of me being whacked in the head by a ball, and it's bin my only sport since September, when I had to quit gymnastics because I hurt my ankle and four-five months later when it was finally better I knew I wouldn't be at the same level I had before. And I'd gone back levels so many times it just didn't seem worth it anymore. Also, my mom had kind of scared me away from it because she told me I was going to fall on my head one day and kill myself, and so I hadn't been doing well anyway even when I was there, especially since last May I actually did fall pretty hard dering a bunch of fast series of flips from 6 feet up onto my neck and shoulders and tore a bunch of muscles. (You do not know pain until you tear your back, shoulders, and neck, then have to walk around for 7 hours on a school field trip a week later.)
Anyway, I'm rambling. The bad part is that I'm just really tired. I get up at around 7:15 on xc days, which is fine because usually I'm up by 8 by myself. But then we run for 30-35 minutes (it'll increase to 75 by the end of the seeson, as of my current pace I bet I do about 4 miles in 30-35), and do 50 push ups and sit ups, and then go to the weight room and lift weights and do stairs and squat 45 pounds on our shoulders. All of this wouldn't be as bad if afterwards I could go home and do nothing for th rest of the day. But I've maybe had 20 minnuts to myself all day, and I was already exhausted this morning from doing a ton of stuff yesterday. I've barely had time to eat today before running off to something else. But hopefully, today will be the worst day....
(Also, I'm to tired and lazy to spellcheck this... so sorry. It's still readable.... I hope.)
Anyway, I'm rambling. The bad part is that I'm just really tired. I get up at around 7:15 on xc days, which is fine because usually I'm up by 8 by myself. But then we run for 30-35 minutes (it'll increase to 75 by the end of the seeson, as of my current pace I bet I do about 4 miles in 30-35), and do 50 push ups and sit ups, and then go to the weight room and lift weights and do stairs and squat 45 pounds on our shoulders. All of this wouldn't be as bad if afterwards I could go home and do nothing for th rest of the day. But I've maybe had 20 minnuts to myself all day, and I was already exhausted this morning from doing a ton of stuff yesterday. I've barely had time to eat today before running off to something else. But hopefully, today will be the worst day....
(Also, I'm to tired and lazy to spellcheck this... so sorry. It's still readable.... I hope.)
Friday, June 13, 2014
Hello....
I have got to be the worst blogger on the planet. Twenty days without a word from me?! Goodness. To be honest, it's been a pretty packed twenty days and so they all blend together and I only remember bits and pieces of it clearly. What I do know is that I had my final exams a little more than a week ago, and about two weeks I had a project in four out of my five classes. I'm just glad it's all over.
Excuses, excuses. Sorry.
I have, however, been posting on my new storyblog! In case you don't know what that is, and you probably don't, I'll leave a link here. If you're a blogger I'm going to assume you like writing, or at least don't utterly despise it the way most kids and teens and college students do. Though who knows? Maybe you don't fall into one of those categories. Maybe you hate writing anyway. Maybe you live in another dimension where writing doesn't actually exist, and you're having this post pumped forcefully into your illiterate brain, through the icy words of an unseen narrator, with just the detached voice reverberating inside your hardened skull.
...Have I mentioned that I've also been listening to too much Welcome to Night Vale? (Look it up if you don't know what it is. It's amazing.)
Anyway, yeah, I'll leave you the link. :) It's too a website that my friend made for what he's calling The Storyblog Project. He explains it way better than I could: http://thestoryblogproject.weebly.com/ Enjoy! I know I don't have some humongous load of readers- actually, I'm fairly certain that at this point I only have one- how ya doing, Rachel?- but hey, every bit helps, right? This is my storyblog. It's linked to my friend Liam's forums, as well:
...I was going to say something else. Ummmm.... http://letterstodana.weebly.com
Oh yeah! I'm going to change the url of my blog, since I changed my name and blah blah blah. It's going to be (hopefully, I'll tell you soon if I can't get it) http://ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com That isn't a real link yet, but once a few weeks have passed and people have seen it, I'll change my current url to that. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I came up with my current url, anyway... mckennasmindtrails? Seriously? What does that even mean?
The world may never know....
Well. Now that I've gotten out all important but probably boring news and updates (boo housekeeping, we all -I think- hate it but it has to be done), and bashed myself in the process, it's time for me to hit post -publish, sorry, but you knew what I meant- RIGHT NOW before you all get bored and stop reading this.
Bye!
I'm hitting it RIGHT NOW.
Excuses, excuses. Sorry.
I have, however, been posting on my new storyblog! In case you don't know what that is, and you probably don't, I'll leave a link here. If you're a blogger I'm going to assume you like writing, or at least don't utterly despise it the way most kids and teens and college students do. Though who knows? Maybe you don't fall into one of those categories. Maybe you hate writing anyway. Maybe you live in another dimension where writing doesn't actually exist, and you're having this post pumped forcefully into your illiterate brain, through the icy words of an unseen narrator, with just the detached voice reverberating inside your hardened skull.
...Have I mentioned that I've also been listening to too much Welcome to Night Vale? (Look it up if you don't know what it is. It's amazing.)
Anyway, yeah, I'll leave you the link. :) It's too a website that my friend made for what he's calling The Storyblog Project. He explains it way better than I could: http://thestoryblogproject.weebly.com/ Enjoy! I know I don't have some humongous load of readers- actually, I'm fairly certain that at this point I only have one- how ya doing, Rachel?- but hey, every bit helps, right? This is my storyblog. It's linked to my friend Liam's forums, as well:
...I was going to say something else. Ummmm.... http://letterstodana.weebly.com
Oh yeah! I'm going to change the url of my blog, since I changed my name and blah blah blah. It's going to be (hopefully, I'll tell you soon if I can't get it) http://ramblingsofateenageweirdo.blogspot.com That isn't a real link yet, but once a few weeks have passed and people have seen it, I'll change my current url to that. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I came up with my current url, anyway... mckennasmindtrails? Seriously? What does that even mean?
The world may never know....
Well. Now that I've gotten out all important but probably boring news and updates (boo housekeeping, we all -I think- hate it but it has to be done), and bashed myself in the process, it's time for me to hit post -publish, sorry, but you knew what I meant- RIGHT NOW before you all get bored and stop reading this.
Bye!
I'm hitting it RIGHT NOW.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
"Slightly retarded"? Gee Mom, thanks.
Today for dinner my mom was putting together meat for burgers and she told me to make a salad with lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers that she had in the refrigerator.
And, well...
Zucchini.
Looks really, really similar to this cucumber.
Anyway, I cut up zucchini and then she was mad because I'd peeled it and even though she was going to cook it today anyway, I'd peeled it like a cucumber and we never peel zuchinni.
Ok, so I didn't know one long green vegetable over the other. No big deal! We cooked the zuchini anyway and made it work, and the salad was fine. I just peeled he cucumber too and cut it up.
Then when my mom was talking to my grandma on the phone she called me "slightly retarded" for mixing up the two and they both got a good laugh out of something that shouldn't have been embarrassing but now is. Thanks, mom.
And, well...
Zucchini.
Looks really, really similar to this cucumber.
Anyway, I cut up zucchini and then she was mad because I'd peeled it and even though she was going to cook it today anyway, I'd peeled it like a cucumber and we never peel zuchinni.
Ok, so I didn't know one long green vegetable over the other. No big deal! We cooked the zuchini anyway and made it work, and the salad was fine. I just peeled he cucumber too and cut it up.
Then when my mom was talking to my grandma on the phone she called me "slightly retarded" for mixing up the two and they both got a good laugh out of something that shouldn't have been embarrassing but now is. Thanks, mom.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
I'm worried about my friend.
Actually, he isn't really my friend. He's my frenemy. He tases me, we make fun of each other, and we pretty much hate each other but we still talk anyway because it's just how we act with each other. We know when enough is enough and we'd never purposefully hurt each other.
Anyway, I'm worried about him. On Tuesday after school, I was standing on the sidewalk as his bus went by. He was sitting alone, in the front, staring out the window and he looked like he was actually depressed. HE's been acting really strangely lately, too. I don't know. I'm just worried about him.
Also, that's pretty much how I act on the bus because people are either being mean or not talking to me or both, and that's just where I end up. But he just isn't the kind of person people bully. And definitely not the kind of person that stares out the window looking depressed. He's an introvert, yeh, but... I just don't know what to think. I thought about it on Wednesday but didn't say anything, and Thursday and yesterday I didn't get a chance to. Do I talk to him about it? I don't know what to do and I'll see him on Monday.
Anyway, I'm worried about him. On Tuesday after school, I was standing on the sidewalk as his bus went by. He was sitting alone, in the front, staring out the window and he looked like he was actually depressed. HE's been acting really strangely lately, too. I don't know. I'm just worried about him.
Also, that's pretty much how I act on the bus because people are either being mean or not talking to me or both, and that's just where I end up. But he just isn't the kind of person people bully. And definitely not the kind of person that stares out the window looking depressed. He's an introvert, yeh, but... I just don't know what to think. I thought about it on Wednesday but didn't say anything, and Thursday and yesterday I didn't get a chance to. Do I talk to him about it? I don't know what to do and I'll see him on Monday.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Oh, Deer.
Yes, I will accept your slow-clapping, eye-rolling sarcasm for this terrible pun that's serving as the title of my blog post, and I will take it with a great bow.
But, seriously. Deer almost caused me to miss the bus on Thursday. I leave my house to get to the bus stop for school at around 6:25, because my bus comes a little after 6:30am. When I stepped outside, there were two deer, just standing there in the middle of the street. I figured at first, "Well, they're deer, they're not going to do anything, just run away," so I started to walk closer. They didn't do anything, just stood there and stared at me. I didn't want to risk that their might be a fawn (that is what baby deer are called, right?) nearby behind a tree or house or something, because as calm as they usually are, deer are still wild animals and something like that could cause one to charge me. Plus, I was maybe a little scared. (I know, come on, scared of deer?) But it was too early to think with any sort of functionality. It was getting later, and since there's a close bus stop in the other direction I just went to that one, and ended up sprinting across a main road as the bus was coming up behind me.
We usually don't see deer walking around in the open unless it's pitch black out, and it was starting to get light.
So just thought I'd share.
But, seriously. Deer almost caused me to miss the bus on Thursday. I leave my house to get to the bus stop for school at around 6:25, because my bus comes a little after 6:30am. When I stepped outside, there were two deer, just standing there in the middle of the street. I figured at first, "Well, they're deer, they're not going to do anything, just run away," so I started to walk closer. They didn't do anything, just stood there and stared at me. I didn't want to risk that their might be a fawn (that is what baby deer are called, right?) nearby behind a tree or house or something, because as calm as they usually are, deer are still wild animals and something like that could cause one to charge me. Plus, I was maybe a little scared. (I know, come on, scared of deer?) But it was too early to think with any sort of functionality. It was getting later, and since there's a close bus stop in the other direction I just went to that one, and ended up sprinting across a main road as the bus was coming up behind me.
We usually don't see deer walking around in the open unless it's pitch black out, and it was starting to get light.
So just thought I'd share.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Tired.
Can I just say how freaking exhausted I am? Seriously! Running, viola lessons, two huge school projects, increased homework because the year is almost over, insomnia... how much can one person take?
Yesterday, we were asked to write a love letter to a thing in English class to discover our writing voice. Mine was to books. I got off topic four times. Instead of writing to books, I ended up writing about how strange it was to write a love letter to a book. I complained that my hand was cramping up. I stared out the window and wrote about how much I'd rather be outside, even if it was three stories up. I complained about how it was impossible to write a page in ten minutes.
I'm tired. Oh, and by the way, incredibly hyper.
And I do some very strange things when I am tired and incredibly hyper.
For one, after my brother asked if gay men could have babies together (in the car on the way home from a restaurant, no less), I got home and seriously considered this question.
This is the first answer I came up with: "Well, girls have XX chromosomes, and boys have XY chromosomes, but no one has YY, so it wouldn't always work."
Then I realized something, much later.
Have you ever heard of a pregnant man?
Yesterday, we were asked to write a love letter to a thing in English class to discover our writing voice. Mine was to books. I got off topic four times. Instead of writing to books, I ended up writing about how strange it was to write a love letter to a book. I complained that my hand was cramping up. I stared out the window and wrote about how much I'd rather be outside, even if it was three stories up. I complained about how it was impossible to write a page in ten minutes.
I'm tired. Oh, and by the way, incredibly hyper.
And I do some very strange things when I am tired and incredibly hyper.
For one, after my brother asked if gay men could have babies together (in the car on the way home from a restaurant, no less), I got home and seriously considered this question.
This is the first answer I came up with: "Well, girls have XX chromosomes, and boys have XY chromosomes, but no one has YY, so it wouldn't always work."
Then I realized something, much later.
Have you ever heard of a pregnant man?
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Comic Prodigy?
There it was, scrawled on my English paper, in the bright violet pen of my teacher: 'Fantastic! You are a comic prodigy.'
For a few blessed moments, my confidence swelled. I was funny! My teacher enjoyed the column assignment I wrote about advice for incoming grade nines!!
Then she passed out the next assignment-- a magazine due in three weeks. "I expect higher quality writing from all of you," she said. Her eyes gleamed. I'm sure it was actually an innocent, eager gleam, one that said she couldn't wait to read our creative nonfiction magazine pieces. But to me, it just looked evil. I was instantly reminded of the medusa-like stare of last year's Spanish teacher. How can I possibly be expected to keep being funny throughout a whole magazine? There are only so many cracks I can make about one specific topic. All it's going to do if I try to be witty more than naturally possible for any human being is give me a huge, largely unhumorous (is that a word?) headache.
I've already said I'm dyslexic. I'm not a quick thinker. Words don't look right to me, and I can't focus on them. With Camp Nanowrimo still going on, the last thing I need is a major writing project.
Also, what's up with these huge writing projects at the end of English classes? Last year, we had to get in groups and shoot a movie trailer about a book we had read on our own time. That project was at least fun. I got to use stage makeup to give my best friend a beard and mustache, and hang her over a bridge so she dangled above a creek. All of this was done in the middle of the woods, by the way. This project will be done in my room, on the computer- where there are distractions that include this blog, where I am currently complaining about homework instead of doing it.
Which is why I now need to hit post before I waste further time.
For a few blessed moments, my confidence swelled. I was funny! My teacher enjoyed the column assignment I wrote about advice for incoming grade nines!!
Then she passed out the next assignment-- a magazine due in three weeks. "I expect higher quality writing from all of you," she said. Her eyes gleamed. I'm sure it was actually an innocent, eager gleam, one that said she couldn't wait to read our creative nonfiction magazine pieces. But to me, it just looked evil. I was instantly reminded of the medusa-like stare of last year's Spanish teacher. How can I possibly be expected to keep being funny throughout a whole magazine? There are only so many cracks I can make about one specific topic. All it's going to do if I try to be witty more than naturally possible for any human being is give me a huge, largely unhumorous (is that a word?) headache.
I've already said I'm dyslexic. I'm not a quick thinker. Words don't look right to me, and I can't focus on them. With Camp Nanowrimo still going on, the last thing I need is a major writing project.
Also, what's up with these huge writing projects at the end of English classes? Last year, we had to get in groups and shoot a movie trailer about a book we had read on our own time. That project was at least fun. I got to use stage makeup to give my best friend a beard and mustache, and hang her over a bridge so she dangled above a creek. All of this was done in the middle of the woods, by the way. This project will be done in my room, on the computer- where there are distractions that include this blog, where I am currently complaining about homework instead of doing it.
Which is why I now need to hit post before I waste further time.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Happy Easter!
So things have been pretty hectic in the Emerson household the past few days. For one, we're hosting Easter Dinner, which means that my mom is temporarily nuts. "Clean! Hold this! Are you busy? Come help me!"
On Saturday morning, between homework assignments because my teachers like assigning things over holiday weekends, I did a little reading and stuck one arm of my glasses inside my book. I do it all the time, but my mom hates it. Later, when I came back, my glasses were sitting on the table next to the book, which had a slip of paper with writing on it stuck inside as a bookmark.
I took out the paper.
It was my chore list.
Mom one, me zero.
On Saturday morning, between homework assignments because my teachers like assigning things over holiday weekends, I did a little reading and stuck one arm of my glasses inside my book. I do it all the time, but my mom hates it. Later, when I came back, my glasses were sitting on the table next to the book, which had a slip of paper with writing on it stuck inside as a bookmark.
I took out the paper.
It was my chore list.
Mom one, me zero.
Monday, April 14, 2014
It's going to snow tonight.
I would like to remind you all that it is April. 2 inches of snow in April. Yesterday, it was 75 degrees Fahrenheit -which I finally know how to spell- and it is now in the thirties.
Welcome to the Upper Midwest.
That is all.
Oh!!! But I've started listening to Welcome to Night Vale. If you've never heard of it, you're missing out. It's this really great podcast about a small desert town in America where every conspiracy theorie is actually true, and odd events are presented in the form of a mundane town radio show. I recommend it 100%. If you don't want to download the podcast, just go to Tunein radio online. If you search "Listen to welcome to night vale online," it should be within the first few results. Sorry about the choppy, robotic post, but I'm tired. I ran 5 kilometers today, did several endurance (read: kill) exercises, and I am utterly exhausted.
Also, does anyone know how to do tabs for different blog topics on one blog? I want to start a science and a writing section and I can't figure it out.
Welcome to the Upper Midwest.
That is all.
Oh!!! But I've started listening to Welcome to Night Vale. If you've never heard of it, you're missing out. It's this really great podcast about a small desert town in America where every conspiracy theorie is actually true, and odd events are presented in the form of a mundane town radio show. I recommend it 100%. If you don't want to download the podcast, just go to Tunein radio online. If you search "Listen to welcome to night vale online," it should be within the first few results. Sorry about the choppy, robotic post, but I'm tired. I ran 5 kilometers today, did several endurance (read: kill) exercises, and I am utterly exhausted.
Also, does anyone know how to do tabs for different blog topics on one blog? I want to start a science and a writing section and I can't figure it out.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
The nonstop usage of my brain
Bad Anna. Bad. You haven't posted in almost TWO WEEKS.
Yes, I know; bad Anna. But between being incapacitated with the stomach flu, dodging April Fool's Day jokes, and shouting orders as my brother created a puddle of poison on our kitchen floor, I just haven't had time to!!
I would have posted a week ago, because I had nothing to do, but I was instead curled up on my bed shivering under blankets, holding my stomach, and being unable to look at the computer screen without throwing up... you've all been there. Anyways, that lasted from Sunday to Monday, then went away and came back for Wednesday- thank God it's finally over. I also got a text message on Tuesday asking this: "Why weren't you at school yesterday? Angie said you were sick." ...Wow. Really? I still haven't answered that one and I'm not going to. I did, however, get a good laugh out of it so I suppose it was worth something.
Tuesday. My friends kept making jokes how I had just faked being sick the day before so I could plan April Fool's Day jokes instead of having to go to school. In reality, I hadn't planned anything, and sat on two whoopee cushions, had a 'kick me' note taped on my back, and was told that the history teacher had given a huge test the day I missed that I now had to make up "today, or be in huge trouble'. I did nothing in return. Man!! Being sick totally destroyed my planning days. I was the first one to hug someone and put a kick me note on their back, and last year I fixed the sink so the faucet would shoot water straight at whoever used it, and dipped my brother's toothbrush in water. I had planned on making a toilet paper gun this year, but that fell through like everything else. Oh, well- next year... >:) What are some of the April Fool's Day jokes you're most proud of?
Oh, yes- and on Thursday I came home from school to find, I kid you not, fifty ants converged on our kitchen floor. I could barely even see what they were eating and I guess I'll never know what it was. I called my mom, and she said it was fine to spray the bug poison inside as long as I only used a very little bit. While I was getting the can, my brother came home and the dog barked to come in from outside. We couldn't let him walk through poison, so we decided to barricade him in one room until we could wipe I up. I had the phone in one hand, and wiped the mud off the dog's feet with the other, thinking my brother was setting up a blockade for the dog as I had told him to. I let go of the dog, and he walked through the poison. My brother was giggling as he sprayed literally a 2-foot puddle of poison all over the floor. We had to open all the windows just to breathe, and even then we all had a headache. Oh, and we had to clean the dog's feet again. All this with the phone in one hand. Thank you for your help and cooperation, brother.
Do you forgive me for not posting?
Yes, I know; bad Anna. But between being incapacitated with the stomach flu, dodging April Fool's Day jokes, and shouting orders as my brother created a puddle of poison on our kitchen floor, I just haven't had time to!!
I would have posted a week ago, because I had nothing to do, but I was instead curled up on my bed shivering under blankets, holding my stomach, and being unable to look at the computer screen without throwing up... you've all been there. Anyways, that lasted from Sunday to Monday, then went away and came back for Wednesday- thank God it's finally over. I also got a text message on Tuesday asking this: "Why weren't you at school yesterday? Angie said you were sick." ...Wow. Really? I still haven't answered that one and I'm not going to. I did, however, get a good laugh out of it so I suppose it was worth something.
Tuesday. My friends kept making jokes how I had just faked being sick the day before so I could plan April Fool's Day jokes instead of having to go to school. In reality, I hadn't planned anything, and sat on two whoopee cushions, had a 'kick me' note taped on my back, and was told that the history teacher had given a huge test the day I missed that I now had to make up "today, or be in huge trouble'. I did nothing in return. Man!! Being sick totally destroyed my planning days. I was the first one to hug someone and put a kick me note on their back, and last year I fixed the sink so the faucet would shoot water straight at whoever used it, and dipped my brother's toothbrush in water. I had planned on making a toilet paper gun this year, but that fell through like everything else. Oh, well- next year... >:) What are some of the April Fool's Day jokes you're most proud of?
Oh, yes- and on Thursday I came home from school to find, I kid you not, fifty ants converged on our kitchen floor. I could barely even see what they were eating and I guess I'll never know what it was. I called my mom, and she said it was fine to spray the bug poison inside as long as I only used a very little bit. While I was getting the can, my brother came home and the dog barked to come in from outside. We couldn't let him walk through poison, so we decided to barricade him in one room until we could wipe I up. I had the phone in one hand, and wiped the mud off the dog's feet with the other, thinking my brother was setting up a blockade for the dog as I had told him to. I let go of the dog, and he walked through the poison. My brother was giggling as he sprayed literally a 2-foot puddle of poison all over the floor. We had to open all the windows just to breathe, and even then we all had a headache. Oh, and we had to clean the dog's feet again. All this with the phone in one hand. Thank you for your help and cooperation, brother.
Do you forgive me for not posting?
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
My brother worries me.
So last night, my parents went to the ER with my brother.
And guess why?
Sick? Nope.
Seriously injured? Nope.
Problems with essential body systems? No.
He got his finger stuck inside the opening of a soda bottle.
Who does that?! Well, I mean, besides him, actually. Really. I thought it was common sence to not stick your fingers into that skinny opening at the top of the bottle, but I guess not. My parents and him couldn't get it out at home and didn't want to slice his finger badly enough to need stitches by smashing the bottle, so they ended up in the emergency room where I'm sure the doctors had better things to deal with than boys in grade 7 who got their fingers stuck in bottles.
It reminds me of an episode of Untold Stories of the ER I saw once, where a lady got stuck in a toilet for 18 hours. Eep.
And guess why?
Sick? Nope.
Seriously injured? Nope.
Problems with essential body systems? No.
He got his finger stuck inside the opening of a soda bottle.
Who does that?! Well, I mean, besides him, actually. Really. I thought it was common sence to not stick your fingers into that skinny opening at the top of the bottle, but I guess not. My parents and him couldn't get it out at home and didn't want to slice his finger badly enough to need stitches by smashing the bottle, so they ended up in the emergency room where I'm sure the doctors had better things to deal with than boys in grade 7 who got their fingers stuck in bottles.
It reminds me of an episode of Untold Stories of the ER I saw once, where a lady got stuck in a toilet for 18 hours. Eep.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Spring? Are you out there? It's me, Anna
First business. The name change! On all of the stories I write, I use the name Anna Emerson. (No, it doesn't have anything to do with Frozen, though it is pronounced the same way as Anna's name in Frozen :) ) I always have. So when my friend asked me to write a story in google drive with him, I changed my name. You can still call me McKenna if you want; I'll likely use both.
Back to the title. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the weather here? Well, I do. It's bipolar. Every year, and especially this one. Relatively warm- 50-55 degrees Fahrenheit!- one day, only 30 the next. Oh yeah, with freezing rain and snow too. It's such a gross day today. I really love Winter, and it's my favorite season, but enough is enough! Half of the people in my school are out sick because the weather keeps going up, and down, and up, and down. For heaven's sakes, weather, make up your mind! And in two days it will be warm again.
...!?
Back to the title. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the weather here? Well, I do. It's bipolar. Every year, and especially this one. Relatively warm- 50-55 degrees Fahrenheit!- one day, only 30 the next. Oh yeah, with freezing rain and snow too. It's such a gross day today. I really love Winter, and it's my favorite season, but enough is enough! Half of the people in my school are out sick because the weather keeps going up, and down, and up, and down. For heaven's sakes, weather, make up your mind! And in two days it will be warm again.
...!?
Sunday, March 9, 2014
And then the new trimester began.
"What happened to your freetime? Why aren't you blogging?"
Well, it turns out freetime isn't so free. (Imagine that!) The new trimester began in school, and it's gonna be a tough one. Honors History, Honors English, Honors Geometry, Physical Science, and Spanish 2B. I won't be able to commit myself to nearly-daily posts. Once a week may be about all that I can manage.
Anyways, what's been up with all of you? I've been doing homework- lots and lots and lots of it. Just this weekend I wrote two essays- bleh. And yesterday, I learned that karma really does exist.
So for 3 hours, my girl scout troop was at a local supermarket selling-guess what- Girl Scout Cookies!! Last weekend my mom volunteered me to make this year's poster, which I wasn't too happy about, but I ended up putting A LOT of time into it, making all the letters as perfect as a computer font with a ruler, compass, and protractor. I was going to amaze everyone in my girl scout troop, and prove to them once and for all that I wasn't some stupid, clumsy person who couldn't even be trusted to the simplest of tasks without finding some way to mess it up.
Well, they weren't impressed. "McKenna," they said, "Why did you put so much time into it? It didn't have to be perfect." Then my mom agreed with them, and I was just the laughingstock of the troop like always.
Two hours in. I was so incredibly sick of them teasing me about the poster when this old lady walked by. She said, "Well, I don't usually buy girl scout cookies. It's so hard to find a troop that really seems to put effort into what they're doing, and so I'm picky about who I buy from. But when I saw your poster-- well, that is the neatest, most colorful poster I have ever seen. I can tell a good troop when I see it." She proceeded to buy seven boxes of cookies.
Needless to say, they all shut up after that.
Now, I'm not dumb enough to believe that this will actually be the end of it all. The teasing will still go on. I wouldn't even be part of the troop anymore except my mom is the leader. But maybe they'll at least think next time before saying I'm useless and a baby.
Well, it turns out freetime isn't so free. (Imagine that!) The new trimester began in school, and it's gonna be a tough one. Honors History, Honors English, Honors Geometry, Physical Science, and Spanish 2B. I won't be able to commit myself to nearly-daily posts. Once a week may be about all that I can manage.
Anyways, what's been up with all of you? I've been doing homework- lots and lots and lots of it. Just this weekend I wrote two essays- bleh. And yesterday, I learned that karma really does exist.
So for 3 hours, my girl scout troop was at a local supermarket selling-guess what- Girl Scout Cookies!! Last weekend my mom volunteered me to make this year's poster, which I wasn't too happy about, but I ended up putting A LOT of time into it, making all the letters as perfect as a computer font with a ruler, compass, and protractor. I was going to amaze everyone in my girl scout troop, and prove to them once and for all that I wasn't some stupid, clumsy person who couldn't even be trusted to the simplest of tasks without finding some way to mess it up.
Well, they weren't impressed. "McKenna," they said, "Why did you put so much time into it? It didn't have to be perfect." Then my mom agreed with them, and I was just the laughingstock of the troop like always.
Two hours in. I was so incredibly sick of them teasing me about the poster when this old lady walked by. She said, "Well, I don't usually buy girl scout cookies. It's so hard to find a troop that really seems to put effort into what they're doing, and so I'm picky about who I buy from. But when I saw your poster-- well, that is the neatest, most colorful poster I have ever seen. I can tell a good troop when I see it." She proceeded to buy seven boxes of cookies.
Needless to say, they all shut up after that.
Now, I'm not dumb enough to believe that this will actually be the end of it all. The teasing will still go on. I wouldn't even be part of the troop anymore except my mom is the leader. But maybe they'll at least think next time before saying I'm useless and a baby.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Don't eat me....
I'm suuuppper sorry I haven't posted in almost 2 weeks! Yes, I'm still alive. And yes, I'm okay. It's not like me to go this long between post, I know. But, I've been really tied up with scheduling my classes for next year, and with studying or final exams for the end of this trimester. ButI finally have a free weekend now, because the last exams were today. I have freetime...
...Freetime? What's this... freetime you speak of?
I'm serious. It's been so long since I've had no obligations, nothing to do. Nothing to have on my shoulders. I don't even know what to do!
Today was fun though. I was home from school early because of the testing, and my mom and I tried to make a Northern Spanish dish my great grandma, who was Spanish, always made, and my grandpa always ate it. Well, I hope they had a good laugh looking down at my mom and me from heaven today, I truly do. Because when they made it, it looked pretty. It's called Tortilla de Patata, and it's basically potatoes, egg, and onion. Ours tasted good, but it was not pretty. It stuck to the pan, and fell apart because we didn't use enough egg. We had such a hard time just slicing the potatoes, too. The first two came out too thin, and I ended up just putting olive oil and salt on them and popping them in the oven to be potato chips, since they were beyond use for the tortilla. A half and hour project turned into two hours for us. (But how it tasted made up for everything.)
...Freetime? What's this... freetime you speak of?
I'm serious. It's been so long since I've had no obligations, nothing to do. Nothing to have on my shoulders. I don't even know what to do!
Today was fun though. I was home from school early because of the testing, and my mom and I tried to make a Northern Spanish dish my great grandma, who was Spanish, always made, and my grandpa always ate it. Well, I hope they had a good laugh looking down at my mom and me from heaven today, I truly do. Because when they made it, it looked pretty. It's called Tortilla de Patata, and it's basically potatoes, egg, and onion. Ours tasted good, but it was not pretty. It stuck to the pan, and fell apart because we didn't use enough egg. We had such a hard time just slicing the potatoes, too. The first two came out too thin, and I ended up just putting olive oil and salt on them and popping them in the oven to be potato chips, since they were beyond use for the tortilla. A half and hour project turned into two hours for us. (But how it tasted made up for everything.)
Monday, February 17, 2014
A letter
I know I said I'd quit writing about LGBT stuff, but this weekend, at the girl scout conference, I met the most amazing person. I just had to write a letter to them (for lack of me knowing their correct pronouns).
Dear person I met at girl scout thing,
You are amazing. I was so impressed when we had to go around and say our names and an interesting thing about ourselves. Usually I don't like those kinds of games, but just the fact that you were able to say that you're bigender made it so amazing for me. To me, you became an excellent role model that instant of a queer person who can walk into a group full of 20 girls you don't know, who may or may not accept queerness, and say it in such a plain and public way. I was even more thrilled the next day, when I finally got the guts (and a moment away from my possibly queerphobic friend), and say how cool it was that you could say something like that, while in public I'd never be able to announce my asexuality. It turns out that you're asexual, too!!! Eeeeee!!!! I've never even talked irl to another queer person, much less one who is ace like me, and even though I'm cis and you're not to me it felt really special, and we talked for a moment that I sort of wished was longer about cake and how good cuddling is. You can't possibly understand how much those 2 seconds meant to me, or how much I hope we see each other again someday, or that you're on Nano, too, or maybe you read my blog, and I'm hoping you'll read this. I'd have told you it all myself if I'd had the chance. Last night, when two of my roomates were laughing about the "ghetto girls" and I knew they were talking about you and your friend, who is openly lesbian, who I wish I'd talked to as well but didn't, I wanted to slap them. I couldn't even say anything, though, and I wish I had. You were nothing but awesome, to me and everyone, and I hope someday people can see that just because you're bigender doesn't make you a "ghetto girl", when really you don't even identify as a girl. That makes me mad, that those two girls didn't even care to get your gender right. When you talked about your goals you said that you wanted to make at least one person's life a little better. Well, you've made mine better, by being such a huge inspiration, and by being so nice, and sweet, despite what some people treat you like. And today, when your mom got here to pick you up, and you turned around and hugged me, it was quite possibly the best moment of the weekend. I'm actually tearing up writing this and I don't cry easily. I don't know what you were trying to say with that hug, with someone you barely met, but I can guess at it and it was really special to me, like you'd picked up on how much I needed a hug because of general queer issues, and you were in my life when I needed it the most. This is so long, but I could go on for days. Thank you so much.
Someone who now has a huge squish on you,
Mckenna
Dear person I met at girl scout thing,
You are amazing. I was so impressed when we had to go around and say our names and an interesting thing about ourselves. Usually I don't like those kinds of games, but just the fact that you were able to say that you're bigender made it so amazing for me. To me, you became an excellent role model that instant of a queer person who can walk into a group full of 20 girls you don't know, who may or may not accept queerness, and say it in such a plain and public way. I was even more thrilled the next day, when I finally got the guts (and a moment away from my possibly queerphobic friend), and say how cool it was that you could say something like that, while in public I'd never be able to announce my asexuality. It turns out that you're asexual, too!!! Eeeeee!!!! I've never even talked irl to another queer person, much less one who is ace like me, and even though I'm cis and you're not to me it felt really special, and we talked for a moment that I sort of wished was longer about cake and how good cuddling is. You can't possibly understand how much those 2 seconds meant to me, or how much I hope we see each other again someday, or that you're on Nano, too, or maybe you read my blog, and I'm hoping you'll read this. I'd have told you it all myself if I'd had the chance. Last night, when two of my roomates were laughing about the "ghetto girls" and I knew they were talking about you and your friend, who is openly lesbian, who I wish I'd talked to as well but didn't, I wanted to slap them. I couldn't even say anything, though, and I wish I had. You were nothing but awesome, to me and everyone, and I hope someday people can see that just because you're bigender doesn't make you a "ghetto girl", when really you don't even identify as a girl. That makes me mad, that those two girls didn't even care to get your gender right. When you talked about your goals you said that you wanted to make at least one person's life a little better. Well, you've made mine better, by being such a huge inspiration, and by being so nice, and sweet, despite what some people treat you like. And today, when your mom got here to pick you up, and you turned around and hugged me, it was quite possibly the best moment of the weekend. I'm actually tearing up writing this and I don't cry easily. I don't know what you were trying to say with that hug, with someone you barely met, but I can guess at it and it was really special to me, like you'd picked up on how much I needed a hug because of general queer issues, and you were in my life when I needed it the most. This is so long, but I could go on for days. Thank you so much.
Someone who now has a huge squish on you,
Mckenna
Friday, February 14, 2014
Busy!!!!
My life has been so busy over the past few days! We had a rehearsal for our orchestra concert 2 days ago, and the actual concert was last night. It went really well, by the way :D
Anyway, yesterday during Spanish Class was... interesting. We got new seats a few days ago, and now I sit next to Eliza. She never does her work, and we've had at least one class together every year since 7th grade. We always seem to end up sitting next to each other, too, and she always want to copy off of my work or make me give her the answer to something.
But I would never be expected for what happened yesterday. We had homework where we had to highlight between two different verb tenses. She asked me at the beginning of class, "Will you highlight my paper four me?" I didn't really understand what she was asking, and thought that I had missed something. I couldn't actually believe that she was asking me to do her homework for her. So I said, "Uh, I'll give you high lighters if you want so you can so it really fast."
She gave me this really weird look as she took them, and a minute later put her paper on my desk and said, "Here, can you just do it?"
I stared at her kind of weird and she said, "Oh, Kenny, (because she thinks using nicknames will make me like her,) "you're so silly and stupid. Yeah, I'm asking you to do it."
I didn't even look at her, just said, "No. I'm not doing your homework." And put it back on her desk.
Wow. I don't even know what to say to that.
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!!! What'd you all do? I don't have a valentine, and will forever be scarred by being forced to see even more kids than usual smooching in the hallway, but I got candy and chocolate from my friends, so I'm hyper and it was all good!
I'm going to be gone all this weekend, too; I'll tell you all about it when I get back.
McKenna out.
Anyway, yesterday during Spanish Class was... interesting. We got new seats a few days ago, and now I sit next to Eliza. She never does her work, and we've had at least one class together every year since 7th grade. We always seem to end up sitting next to each other, too, and she always want to copy off of my work or make me give her the answer to something.
But I would never be expected for what happened yesterday. We had homework where we had to highlight between two different verb tenses. She asked me at the beginning of class, "Will you highlight my paper four me?" I didn't really understand what she was asking, and thought that I had missed something. I couldn't actually believe that she was asking me to do her homework for her. So I said, "Uh, I'll give you high lighters if you want so you can so it really fast."
She gave me this really weird look as she took them, and a minute later put her paper on my desk and said, "Here, can you just do it?"
I stared at her kind of weird and she said, "Oh, Kenny, (because she thinks using nicknames will make me like her,) "you're so silly and stupid. Yeah, I'm asking you to do it."
I didn't even look at her, just said, "No. I'm not doing your homework." And put it back on her desk.
Wow. I don't even know what to say to that.
Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!!! What'd you all do? I don't have a valentine, and will forever be scarred by being forced to see even more kids than usual smooching in the hallway, but I got candy and chocolate from my friends, so I'm hyper and it was all good!
I'm going to be gone all this weekend, too; I'll tell you all about it when I get back.
McKenna out.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
A stalker
Guess what? I may have my own personal stalker! How lovely, I know! But yes. About a week ago I posted about being indirectly asked out by a random guy through his friend, who I'm friends with. Today, at lunch, my friend gave me a note. It said- To McKenna Oberon, from... we'll call him Ryan Alastair. It's close enough to his name. It also had written on it for my friend (Ty) not to read it. I opened up the note, and it had 4 questions on it for me to answer. (I also found out this guy is homeschooled and has no other means of communication with me, but that makes it no less creepy.)
Here they are:
1. Are you single?
2. Do you have a boyfriend?
3. Do you like Ty?
4. Are you interested in a date with me?
I answered "potatoes" to every question, and just about died laughing while doing it. This guys is obviously a creeper. What else was I going to do? But I did write at the bottom, "Sorry, but I don't know you and I don't want a boyfriend."
Apparently, this is how he found out I existed.
Ryan: So Ty, met any cute girls recently?
Ty: No.
Ryan: What about lunch? Do you sit with girls at lunch?
Ty: Sometimes.
Ryan: Are any of them cute?
Ty: By your standards, all of them.
Ryan (starts getting excited): Are any of them blonde?
Ty: Well, two. Emalie and McKenna.
Ryan: How tall are they?
Ty: Emalie's pretty tall, and Kenna's a little on the shorter side.
Ryan proceeded to google me, look me up on facebook, and try obsessively to find out everything about me. Ty told me it will all blow over and by next week it will be another girl's turn.
I have my own personal stalker. Should I be flattered? Creeped out? Both?
Here they are:
1. Are you single?
2. Do you have a boyfriend?
3. Do you like Ty?
4. Are you interested in a date with me?
I answered "potatoes" to every question, and just about died laughing while doing it. This guys is obviously a creeper. What else was I going to do? But I did write at the bottom, "Sorry, but I don't know you and I don't want a boyfriend."
Apparently, this is how he found out I existed.
Ryan: So Ty, met any cute girls recently?
Ty: No.
Ryan: What about lunch? Do you sit with girls at lunch?
Ty: Sometimes.
Ryan: Are any of them cute?
Ty: By your standards, all of them.
Ryan (starts getting excited): Are any of them blonde?
Ty: Well, two. Emalie and McKenna.
Ryan: How tall are they?
Ty: Emalie's pretty tall, and Kenna's a little on the shorter side.
Ryan proceeded to google me, look me up on facebook, and try obsessively to find out everything about me. Ty told me it will all blow over and by next week it will be another girl's turn.
I have my own personal stalker. Should I be flattered? Creeped out? Both?
Thursday, February 6, 2014
The post I owe you
I was going to talk about the orchestra feedback yesterday, but I was really sick yesterday. I went to bed Tuesday night just fine, and at 6:45am I woke up because my stomach had started hurting like I'd never felt before, like I was being stabbed. I was covered in sweat and I felt so horrid I couldn't even move.
My mom thought it was my appendix, so she and my dad drove me to the hospital where we spent five hours in the ER. They did a bunch of tests and couldn't find anything wrong, and when I got home, to be honest, I wasn't really thinking about posting on here.
I felt a little better by last night and I still feel kind of crappy today but I think I'll be okay; most likely I'll go back to school tomorrow. Maybe I just had a really bad stomach bug, minus the throwing up a ton part.
Ok. So now that that's over, orchestra results!!
When I got the paper, it didn't actually say anything about us messing up! I was really surprised, because I thought that'd be a major thing. But they just gave us little technical notes, like what part of the bow to play in and how to make dynamics (loud vs. soft) sound better.
My mom thought it was my appendix, so she and my dad drove me to the hospital where we spent five hours in the ER. They did a bunch of tests and couldn't find anything wrong, and when I got home, to be honest, I wasn't really thinking about posting on here.
I felt a little better by last night and I still feel kind of crappy today but I think I'll be okay; most likely I'll go back to school tomorrow. Maybe I just had a really bad stomach bug, minus the throwing up a ton part.
Ok. So now that that's over, orchestra results!!
When I got the paper, it didn't actually say anything about us messing up! I was really surprised, because I thought that'd be a major thing. But they just gave us little technical notes, like what part of the bow to play in and how to make dynamics (loud vs. soft) sound better.
Monday, February 3, 2014
So my dad bought a punching bag...
...and boxing gloves.
Need I say more?
Well, I guess I do because 7 word posts really don't cut it. But yes. Last weekend on a random whim he went out to the sporting goods store and bought boxing equipment. Maybe it's part of my mom's whole health spree lately. I don't know.
Anyway, he's made me go down to the basement with him to practice twice now. We start at the bag but usually end up boxing each other. Easily and clumsily, because we're really not trying to hurt each other and we're both completely inexperienced. So we only took shots we knew could easily be blocked.
I kept changing my stance though, trying to figure out if I box orthodox or southpaw (right or left handed.) It should have been easy but in writing I'm ambidextrous.... I think I box left now but that is beside the point.
The point is that m dad accidentally bopped me in the nose, and pretty hard, too. I have this amazing bruise there today, but at least it isn't numb anymore. And even though I had to give a presentation in school today... the wonders of make up.
Sorry for the boring and distracted post, I had nothing to write about.
Oooh! But I got indirectly asked out today. I've been asked out plenty of times before, but I didn't expect one of my guy friends to tell me that one of his friends wanted to know if I would consider having a boyfriend now that I'm single.
It took all my power not to run. I just hope the boy won't come up to me himself, because I wouldn't do well in a situation like that.
Oh, who am I kidding? Today when I was indirectly asked I just looked at the guy who told me, felt my face go bright red, and sprinted like Jesse Owens. (I actually probably ran faster than Jesse Owens. And I was wearing ballet flats!)
Need I say more?
Well, I guess I do because 7 word posts really don't cut it. But yes. Last weekend on a random whim he went out to the sporting goods store and bought boxing equipment. Maybe it's part of my mom's whole health spree lately. I don't know.
Anyway, he's made me go down to the basement with him to practice twice now. We start at the bag but usually end up boxing each other. Easily and clumsily, because we're really not trying to hurt each other and we're both completely inexperienced. So we only took shots we knew could easily be blocked.
I kept changing my stance though, trying to figure out if I box orthodox or southpaw (right or left handed.) It should have been easy but in writing I'm ambidextrous.... I think I box left now but that is beside the point.
The point is that m dad accidentally bopped me in the nose, and pretty hard, too. I have this amazing bruise there today, but at least it isn't numb anymore. And even though I had to give a presentation in school today... the wonders of make up.
Sorry for the boring and distracted post, I had nothing to write about.
Oooh! But I got indirectly asked out today. I've been asked out plenty of times before, but I didn't expect one of my guy friends to tell me that one of his friends wanted to know if I would consider having a boyfriend now that I'm single.
It took all my power not to run. I just hope the boy won't come up to me himself, because I wouldn't do well in a situation like that.
Oh, who am I kidding? Today when I was indirectly asked I just looked at the guy who told me, felt my face go bright red, and sprinted like Jesse Owens. (I actually probably ran faster than Jesse Owens. And I was wearing ballet flats!)
Saturday, February 1, 2014
A slight moment of panic
Today, my friend and I played a viola duet at the event that has literally comprised the past 2 months of my existence. Well, only three weeks has been full of playing this particular piece. We had another one before that, but my teacher found out it wasn't on the list of pieces we could do at the event...
So anyway it's been crazy, learning this piece so fast and then having to perform it in front of judges today. We were only able to practice it together twice before today, so we spent the two hours before our performance practicing our butts off and just trying to stay together. We played it once through perfectly about 5 minutes before we were on.
As soon as we were standing in front of the judges and began to play, I just had this bad feeling in my stomach, like something was about to go terribly wrong. I tried to forget about everything but the sheet of music in front of me and my friend, playing at exactly the same time as me. We got through the first page perfectly. I messed up a little at the top of the second page just because my brain didn't transfer quickly enough. The moment was over, and I wasn't just in the music anymore. I suddenly felt the eyes of my teacher in school, the judges, one of the judge's brother, and my mom, all bearing into me, scrutinizing my every note. I swallowed and hoped my mistake -in a part where I had the melody, no less!- hadn't been very noticeable.
We kept playing, and about halfway through the second page I realized we were off. Only by half a beat, but it was enough to make the music sound like a mess. I felt my friend tense a little next to me, as we both frantically scrambled to try and find each other. We only got further apart. I focused on my music alone, unable to do anything else without making the entire piece fall apart.
My friend stopped playing.
This was my moment of panic. For a whole measure that seemed to last for an eternity, I was the only one playing in an unwritten solo, in a part near the end that was supposed to be in perfect harmony. I did my best to play in tune with a steady beat, feeling my face grow hot, and glad I was too short to see the judges scribbling down notes over the black music stand.
Finally, she joined back in. It was over. I relaxed, and allowed myself to breathe as we played the last note- in tune, together, and beautifully.
It was only supposed to take 15 minutes for the judges to put up our score, but we waited an hour and half. We ate lunch in the cafeteria of the school the event was at and waited anxiously, speculating.
On a scale of 1 to 5, we expected to get a three. Maybe a 2 if they were lenient, a 4 if they were strict.
But no matter what, we were not expecting a 1. The highest rating.
We receive the notes that the judges took in school on Monday. Personally, I can't wait. I want to know how to improve, want to see what made them give us such a high score when we messed up so badly.
But all this time, our private lessons teacher had been right.
The most important thing isn't whether you get lost or not. It's whether you find each other and end together. I never understood until now what that meant. If the piece was a wreck, it didn't matter how the ending sounded. It was still a wreck, wasn't it? But no.
I've learned more about music today than I have in the past 4 years since I started playing.
So anyway it's been crazy, learning this piece so fast and then having to perform it in front of judges today. We were only able to practice it together twice before today, so we spent the two hours before our performance practicing our butts off and just trying to stay together. We played it once through perfectly about 5 minutes before we were on.
As soon as we were standing in front of the judges and began to play, I just had this bad feeling in my stomach, like something was about to go terribly wrong. I tried to forget about everything but the sheet of music in front of me and my friend, playing at exactly the same time as me. We got through the first page perfectly. I messed up a little at the top of the second page just because my brain didn't transfer quickly enough. The moment was over, and I wasn't just in the music anymore. I suddenly felt the eyes of my teacher in school, the judges, one of the judge's brother, and my mom, all bearing into me, scrutinizing my every note. I swallowed and hoped my mistake -in a part where I had the melody, no less!- hadn't been very noticeable.
We kept playing, and about halfway through the second page I realized we were off. Only by half a beat, but it was enough to make the music sound like a mess. I felt my friend tense a little next to me, as we both frantically scrambled to try and find each other. We only got further apart. I focused on my music alone, unable to do anything else without making the entire piece fall apart.
My friend stopped playing.
This was my moment of panic. For a whole measure that seemed to last for an eternity, I was the only one playing in an unwritten solo, in a part near the end that was supposed to be in perfect harmony. I did my best to play in tune with a steady beat, feeling my face grow hot, and glad I was too short to see the judges scribbling down notes over the black music stand.
Finally, she joined back in. It was over. I relaxed, and allowed myself to breathe as we played the last note- in tune, together, and beautifully.
It was only supposed to take 15 minutes for the judges to put up our score, but we waited an hour and half. We ate lunch in the cafeteria of the school the event was at and waited anxiously, speculating.
On a scale of 1 to 5, we expected to get a three. Maybe a 2 if they were lenient, a 4 if they were strict.
But no matter what, we were not expecting a 1. The highest rating.
We receive the notes that the judges took in school on Monday. Personally, I can't wait. I want to know how to improve, want to see what made them give us such a high score when we messed up so badly.
But all this time, our private lessons teacher had been right.
The most important thing isn't whether you get lost or not. It's whether you find each other and end together. I never understood until now what that meant. If the piece was a wreck, it didn't matter how the ending sounded. It was still a wreck, wasn't it? But no.
I've learned more about music today than I have in the past 4 years since I started playing.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
A Life Lesson to all of you
Yes. I have learned an important life lesson that I feel is worthy of sharing with all of you, and because it is a good thing to keep in mind, not for comedic relief. Okay, maybe a little bit for that.
I went go karting on Tuesday night with my younger brother and his boy scout troop- yay me! I've never been the best at go karting, but I had it in my head that I was going to whoop Every. Single. One. Of. Their. Sorry. Butts. When I was through, I would no longer be just "Mouse." I would be The Mouse that Roared.
These go karts were exceptionally fast go karts. I'm talking 40 mph fast. In an open go kart, wearing nothing but a helmet and a neck guard.
So you could imagine the pain when you ram said go kart into the wall at 40 mph. Don't do it. Ignore the clock and the fact that you're in last place. Don't speed up the go kart so you lose control while trying to turn. It's just a bad idea. My head jerked back and I pulled a bunch of muscles in the back of my neck, and I still came in 9th place out of 9 in one race, and 6th out of 6th in the next. Did I mention that I hit the wall at this speed three times?
So yes. Don't do it.
I went go karting on Tuesday night with my younger brother and his boy scout troop- yay me! I've never been the best at go karting, but I had it in my head that I was going to whoop Every. Single. One. Of. Their. Sorry. Butts. When I was through, I would no longer be just "Mouse." I would be The Mouse that Roared.
These go karts were exceptionally fast go karts. I'm talking 40 mph fast. In an open go kart, wearing nothing but a helmet and a neck guard.
So you could imagine the pain when you ram said go kart into the wall at 40 mph. Don't do it. Ignore the clock and the fact that you're in last place. Don't speed up the go kart so you lose control while trying to turn. It's just a bad idea. My head jerked back and I pulled a bunch of muscles in the back of my neck, and I still came in 9th place out of 9 in one race, and 6th out of 6th in the next. Did I mention that I hit the wall at this speed three times?
So yes. Don't do it.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Shakespeare hath a great influence on the modern world
For the past few weeks in English class, we've been studying Romeo and Juliet. Shakespeare.... was an interesting guy. Now we can't really understand that, I guess, because we speak so differently that Middle English sounds stuffy and formal, and we don't understand that.
So I'm going to provide you with a quick translation.
Middle English: "I do not bit my thumb at you, sir, but I do bite my thumb, sir."
Modern English: "Pfft, no, I'm not flicking you off. I'm just chewing on my thumb."
Yup.
And I keep speaking really properly, too. I wrote hath on my math homework, and I accidentally said thou to one of my friends.
Shakespeare's Influence: Getting us to speak like people from 500 years ago.
So I'm going to provide you with a quick translation.
Middle English: "I do not bit my thumb at you, sir, but I do bite my thumb, sir."
Modern English: "Pfft, no, I'm not flicking you off. I'm just chewing on my thumb."
Yup.
And I keep speaking really properly, too. I wrote hath on my math homework, and I accidentally said thou to one of my friends.
Shakespeare's Influence: Getting us to speak like people from 500 years ago.
Friday, January 24, 2014
So, Mckenna wrote a poem
And that poem is rainbow-y and a bit queer. I'm sorry for all the LGBTQIA posts lately, I promise this will be the last one for awhile (maybe). It's just that I'm figuring all this stuff out and it's what has been on my mind the most lately. Anyway, here it is:
7 am is too early to cry,
shrinking into my coat,
trying to shield my face from
the stares I imagine burning through me.
No one even fakes a smile as I pass by,
they say "everyone's a friend",
I say "yeah right" because it's like they know,
see me as different, the outcast, the freak.
I reach my locker and shed my protection,
thinking, thinking hard.
We're different yet the same I know,
I am just as real as the next person.
I leave wondering about rejection,
my head held high but crushed inside,
I never thought they'd see me that way,
and I don't want to know what they're thinking.
Just because I'm not straight
doesn't mean I'm broken or wrong.
But someday it has to end and all of us will see
the world we've known forever, free of discrimination.
But today, in my world I try my best to remain in hiding.
Because 7 am is too early to cry.
It's a rough draft and by no means perfect, but I wanted to get it out there, especially since I'll never show it to anyone in real life why not show the whole internet (Ha! *snorts* Because the whole internet reads my blog.) But yep. My poem. :)
7 am is too early to cry,
shrinking into my coat,
trying to shield my face from
the stares I imagine burning through me.
No one even fakes a smile as I pass by,
they say "everyone's a friend",
I say "yeah right" because it's like they know,
see me as different, the outcast, the freak.
I reach my locker and shed my protection,
thinking, thinking hard.
We're different yet the same I know,
I am just as real as the next person.
I leave wondering about rejection,
my head held high but crushed inside,
I never thought they'd see me that way,
and I don't want to know what they're thinking.
Just because I'm not straight
doesn't mean I'm broken or wrong.
But someday it has to end and all of us will see
the world we've known forever, free of discrimination.
But today, in my world I try my best to remain in hiding.
Because 7 am is too early to cry.
It's a rough draft and by no means perfect, but I wanted to get it out there, especially since I'll never show it to anyone in real life why not show the whole internet (Ha! *snorts* Because the whole internet reads my blog.) But yep. My poem. :)
Thursday, January 23, 2014
The Today Post
...That I didn't post on the "yesterday" post because it was too long.
Anyway. I had my audition for orchestra next year! I'm really excited but also sort of nervous, because I'll be a sophomore next year and the majority of the class will most likely be juniors, who have more experience playing than I do. I can't wait for the results to come out! Eeek! I think I did ok with the piece. I mean, there were a few mistakes here and there because I was nervous, but it was a difficult piece I only had a few weeks to learn and I'm proud of myself. And I was perfectly in tune for almost all of it- no dying goat noises coming from my viola, no-sir-ee. I have an all right shot at actually getting in even though I wasn't perfect, too, because there just aren't many violists compared to violinists, not enough for sure, and more are needed.
I don't know when the results are coming out, but I hope it's soon!
Anyway. I had my audition for orchestra next year! I'm really excited but also sort of nervous, because I'll be a sophomore next year and the majority of the class will most likely be juniors, who have more experience playing than I do. I can't wait for the results to come out! Eeek! I think I did ok with the piece. I mean, there were a few mistakes here and there because I was nervous, but it was a difficult piece I only had a few weeks to learn and I'm proud of myself. And I was perfectly in tune for almost all of it- no dying goat noises coming from my viola, no-sir-ee. I have an all right shot at actually getting in even though I wasn't perfect, too, because there just aren't many violists compared to violinists, not enough for sure, and more are needed.
I don't know when the results are coming out, but I hope it's soon!
I don't even...
So much has happened between yesterday and today!!! This could be long, so bear with me...
Yesterday- I told Tony the truth about why I broke up with him!!!! *does Snoopy happy dance* I was really worried he'd judge me and stuff, or be weird about me now that he knows I'm ace/Gray-ro, but he said he understands completely and wasn't one bit judgmental. I felt so much lighter and happier about it; it was out of the way and I didn't have to worry anymore.
I also told my closest friend (well one of two), let's call her Mona. I wasn't going to tell anyone else except that we're sooo close, and I knew she would tell me if it was her. We know pretty much everything about each other- and besides that, I was feeling cocky after the situation with Tony. I told her at lunch, and she made a really nerdy yet funny yet offensive to some joke:
Her: "McKenna, I'm actually pretty sure you're not asexual."
Me: "Why?"
Her: "Because then your cells would start dividing, and making more Mckennas. And I'm not sure how many Kennas I can take."
When I tell you I snorted applesauce....
But then she wouldn't believe me or take me seriously about anything. I said when I finished dying of laughter, "No, but seriously. I'm pretty sure I am."
She told me that being ace wasn't real, and I'm too young to know my sexuality (yet she's crushed on plenty of guys), and when I (and I shouldn't have) pointed that out, she told me that being straight was different than being ace, or anything else, and maybe I just hadn't met the right guy yet, and if I really think that I'm ace she can help me fix it. I didn't let on, but it really hurt me that she would say things like that. I'm not broken; I don't need fixing. And how is ace different from straight? Or gay, or bi, or lesbian? Or anything else I haven't said? Because different sexualities mean you like different genders (or none at all), but their isn't some "magic age" that will change you, and you can't be anything but straight until you reach that age. Ouch. I would probably be more upset with her if she wasn't so sweet in every other way. That was mostly what led me to believe she'd be ok with that particular subject, and I know she was only trying to help but I just wanted her to listen.
You know what? I think I'll just make today a different post ;)
Yesterday- I told Tony the truth about why I broke up with him!!!! *does Snoopy happy dance* I was really worried he'd judge me and stuff, or be weird about me now that he knows I'm ace/Gray-ro, but he said he understands completely and wasn't one bit judgmental. I felt so much lighter and happier about it; it was out of the way and I didn't have to worry anymore.
I also told my closest friend (well one of two), let's call her Mona. I wasn't going to tell anyone else except that we're sooo close, and I knew she would tell me if it was her. We know pretty much everything about each other- and besides that, I was feeling cocky after the situation with Tony. I told her at lunch, and she made a really nerdy yet funny yet offensive to some joke:
Her: "McKenna, I'm actually pretty sure you're not asexual."
Me: "Why?"
Her: "Because then your cells would start dividing, and making more Mckennas. And I'm not sure how many Kennas I can take."
When I tell you I snorted applesauce....
But then she wouldn't believe me or take me seriously about anything. I said when I finished dying of laughter, "No, but seriously. I'm pretty sure I am."
She told me that being ace wasn't real, and I'm too young to know my sexuality (yet she's crushed on plenty of guys), and when I (and I shouldn't have) pointed that out, she told me that being straight was different than being ace, or anything else, and maybe I just hadn't met the right guy yet, and if I really think that I'm ace she can help me fix it. I didn't let on, but it really hurt me that she would say things like that. I'm not broken; I don't need fixing. And how is ace different from straight? Or gay, or bi, or lesbian? Or anything else I haven't said? Because different sexualities mean you like different genders (or none at all), but their isn't some "magic age" that will change you, and you can't be anything but straight until you reach that age. Ouch. I would probably be more upset with her if she wasn't so sweet in every other way. That was mostly what led me to believe she'd be ok with that particular subject, and I know she was only trying to help but I just wanted her to listen.
You know what? I think I'll just make today a different post ;)
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
3rd time's a charm....
You guys, I think I accidentally broke Blogger earlier. This is the THIRD time I'm trying to make a blog post today, and I'm really hoping the whole post doesn't get deleted when I'm halfway through it this time around, unable to be found even in my drafted posts. I was already in a grouchy mood and Blogger malfunctioning didn't help.
Anyway, my grouchiness is justified. Today we had the day off school for snow (yay!), but it was the last day before we have to start adding more days to the end of the year. (Boo!) My dad and I went outside to clear ours and the neighbor's driveway, him with a snowblower and me with a shovel. But I was going to get paid, so it didn't really bother me that I had the crummier tool. Until my dad kept blowing snow over the area I had just cleared. Over. And Over. And Over. I probably cleared one little section of driveway five times before he stopped doing that to me. And while I was busy cleaning up, he did the rest of the driveway.
Then we drove to my grandparent's house, one town over. They were at the store, but my 29 year old uncle lives there and never leaves. I'm serious. He's really a jerk, too, and know I shouldn't be talking about a relative like that, but he's never nice to anybody. And we knew he was home, too, because my mom had called him to tell him we were coming over to shovel/snowblow. Well, my dad and I got there and realized that while we did have the snowblower, neither one of us had remembered to put the shovel in the car. So, I knocked on the door to ask if my uncle could open the garage and let me use theirs.
Guess who didn't answer the door? See- lazy and rude. He probably didn't answer because he thought we were going to try to make him help. Ugh! There are very few people that really strike a nerve in me, but he's one of them. So my dad tried to teach me how to use the snowblower- another yay! But I couldn't get it right and ended up blowing snow and the smell of gasoline in my face.
Oh, and my fingers were about to freeze off this whole time.
Their you have it, my rant of the day.
Anyway, my grouchiness is justified. Today we had the day off school for snow (yay!), but it was the last day before we have to start adding more days to the end of the year. (Boo!) My dad and I went outside to clear ours and the neighbor's driveway, him with a snowblower and me with a shovel. But I was going to get paid, so it didn't really bother me that I had the crummier tool. Until my dad kept blowing snow over the area I had just cleared. Over. And Over. And Over. I probably cleared one little section of driveway five times before he stopped doing that to me. And while I was busy cleaning up, he did the rest of the driveway.
Then we drove to my grandparent's house, one town over. They were at the store, but my 29 year old uncle lives there and never leaves. I'm serious. He's really a jerk, too, and know I shouldn't be talking about a relative like that, but he's never nice to anybody. And we knew he was home, too, because my mom had called him to tell him we were coming over to shovel/snowblow. Well, my dad and I got there and realized that while we did have the snowblower, neither one of us had remembered to put the shovel in the car. So, I knocked on the door to ask if my uncle could open the garage and let me use theirs.
Guess who didn't answer the door? See- lazy and rude. He probably didn't answer because he thought we were going to try to make him help. Ugh! There are very few people that really strike a nerve in me, but he's one of them. So my dad tried to teach me how to use the snowblower- another yay! But I couldn't get it right and ended up blowing snow and the smell of gasoline in my face.
Oh, and my fingers were about to freeze off this whole time.
Their you have it, my rant of the day.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
I guess I'd better say it now....
I don't know why I'm doing this. But I guess I need to get used to it, say it and organize my thoughts. Tony asked for a clearer explanation of why I broke up with him, and I don't know how to tell him the truth- I'm Gray-A/Ace, or gray-romantic and asexual. It means I can feel romantic things like wanting to kiss or hold hands, but it's only happened a few times, and besides that I'm platonic towards him- I want to be really good friends, but nothing more, and I know that's not how he thought (thinks?) about me. I'm confused. Like I said in previous posts, he's a really good person, he deserves the truthful explanation, but I just don't know what to say. Does anyone know about this sort of thing? I've just recently been seriously considering the fact that I'm mostly likely Gray-A/ace, and don't know what he'll think.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Scrambled eggs
This morning I felt the need to get out a pan and make myself scrambled eggs. I don't know why. Me and the stove together is a terrible idea. But anyway, it was all going fine at first. I mixed the eggs, milk, and cheese in a pan, then put the pan on the stove.... and realized I forgot to put in the margarine. So I had to dump everything out of the pan into a bucket then clean the egg out of the pan and grease it, then pour the egg back in the pan. Then I spilled a few drops of the still-uncooked egg on the hot burner, where it dried and burned to the stove before I could get to it. While it was cooking, I dropped the spatula I had been using on the floor, where it splatter half-cooked egg all over the floor and the bottoms of my pajama pants. I realized after that I must have used too much milk because the pan was sizzling and WAY too steamy, while the eggs weren't even cooked yet. I won't be making any food for a while.
Story of my life.
Story of my life.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Rain, just in powder form
This is the conversation I heard in Spanish today.
Boy: "Look how hard it's snowing!"
Boy 2: "They're going to let us out early!"
Spanish teacher: "No, they're not, they never do that anymore!"
Boy 3, who is a major teacher's pet: "Pfft, yeah, what is wrong with you guys? They haven't done that since third grade!"
Boy 4: "If you want to talk about snow, I'm moving to North Dakota this weekend."
The entire room shut up.
Needless to say, we only got 3 inches of snow and went home at 2:15, like every other day of the year.
Boy: "Look how hard it's snowing!"
Boy 2: "They're going to let us out early!"
Spanish teacher: "No, they're not, they never do that anymore!"
Boy 3, who is a major teacher's pet: "Pfft, yeah, what is wrong with you guys? They haven't done that since third grade!"
Boy 4: "If you want to talk about snow, I'm moving to North Dakota this weekend."
The entire room shut up.
Needless to say, we only got 3 inches of snow and went home at 2:15, like every other day of the year.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
The Land of Cheese
First off, I would like to clear up for everyone that there are more things in the state of Wisconsin than cheese. Because today I had to present a college I've been looking up for my speech/communications class, and I've been researching University of Wisconsin-Madison. I don't expect anyone outside of the U.S. to have heard of it (I don't know anything about colleges in other countries), or know anything about Wisconsin, but even though they're famous for dairy in that state and UW Madison does offer a dairy sciences major, there are PLENTY of things to study besides cheese. We had to dress up for it too, and so my friend knew I had a presentation coming up later, and the first thing out of her mouth when I told her about UW Madison was, "Ooh, you're going to research cheese?"
No, actually, I'm going to major in biology so I can become a marine biologist, and study the Great Lakes.
And marine biologist doesn't mean dolphin trainer, although many people think that. :)
Wisconsin- another c state like Ohio, but with cheese and cows instead of corn and cows. Although I'm sure Ohio cows make cheese, Ohio isn't famous for it like Wisconsin.
No, actually, I'm going to major in biology so I can become a marine biologist, and study the Great Lakes.
And marine biologist doesn't mean dolphin trainer, although many people think that. :)
Wisconsin- another c state like Ohio, but with cheese and cows instead of corn and cows. Although I'm sure Ohio cows make cheese, Ohio isn't famous for it like Wisconsin.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Normal Person: WAHHHHH!!! I BROKE UP WITH MY BOY/GIRLFRIEND!!!!! WAHHHHH!
McKenna: "Wow. That was a hard thing to do, but I'm kind of relieved. I feel good."
Yep. I wrote a big paper at like 10:15 last night explaining stuff, gave it to Andrew today and asked his opinion. Andrew said, "Don't give this to him. Just tell him. McKenna, you don't want to be with him so you need to break up. And don't say you might get back together someday, because that's just false hope and will hurt worse than the truth in the long run." Then he held up the paper and said, "If he doesn't tell me you broke up or seem a little off by tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to show this to him. From what you wrote you're obviously wanting it to be over but too afraid to say something, and it needs to happen soon."
Wow. I just made Andrew seem like a real jerk. He's not, I promise, that was his advice. And as soon as I had that conversation with him I found enough confidence to go talk to Tony and break up with him. And Tony said he's fine! I'm still worried about it, but I'm feeling really awesome and I'm glad I did it. There's another girl somewhere out there, and they'll fall in love, and she'll never feel the spark go away like I did. And if Tony loves her, she is a very deserving girl and is lucky to get such a great guy. As for me, I'm perfectly content with being single. Maybe I'll find a guy someday and maybe I won't, but I think I'll be happy either way.
Yep. I wrote a big paper at like 10:15 last night explaining stuff, gave it to Andrew today and asked his opinion. Andrew said, "Don't give this to him. Just tell him. McKenna, you don't want to be with him so you need to break up. And don't say you might get back together someday, because that's just false hope and will hurt worse than the truth in the long run." Then he held up the paper and said, "If he doesn't tell me you broke up or seem a little off by tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to show this to him. From what you wrote you're obviously wanting it to be over but too afraid to say something, and it needs to happen soon."
Wow. I just made Andrew seem like a real jerk. He's not, I promise, that was his advice. And as soon as I had that conversation with him I found enough confidence to go talk to Tony and break up with him. And Tony said he's fine! I'm still worried about it, but I'm feeling really awesome and I'm glad I did it. There's another girl somewhere out there, and they'll fall in love, and she'll never feel the spark go away like I did. And if Tony loves her, she is a very deserving girl and is lucky to get such a great guy. As for me, I'm perfectly content with being single. Maybe I'll find a guy someday and maybe I won't, but I think I'll be happy either way.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
My extended family in a pizza place
We have more relatives from New York in town this week, and even though they're not staying at our house my weekend has been CRAZY, I apologize for not posting. And I did try to post on Saturday, but just now realized it's still in draft form and it never went. Anyway. It's my cousin her husband, and their 2 year old son, and he's cute, but a MENACE. He was cranky, too, since he slept 12 hours on the drive here. On Saturday night I played with him for 3 hours in my brother's room, he dumped out a big box of K'Nex and two HUGE boxes of Legos. Gess who was responsible for cleaning them up? My cousin's husband did have to change his diaper on my brother's bed, however, so that was funny.
On Sunday night we all went out to a pizza place, us, them, and my aunt's family and my grandparents. That ended up being fourteen people all crammed in a little restaurant, the 2 year old kept running around, it was so confusing that we kept messing up are orders . And there was fighting and loudness. I'm pretty sure the people who work there hate us now.
Sorry this post is so badly written and looks like it wasn't thought out well, it wasn't and I have to go eat dinner now, and then go tuter a little kid. BUSY BUSY!!!!
Bye!
On Sunday night we all went out to a pizza place, us, them, and my aunt's family and my grandparents. That ended up being fourteen people all crammed in a little restaurant, the 2 year old kept running around, it was so confusing that we kept messing up are orders . And there was fighting and loudness. I'm pretty sure the people who work there hate us now.
Sorry this post is so badly written and looks like it wasn't thought out well, it wasn't and I have to go eat dinner now, and then go tuter a little kid. BUSY BUSY!!!!
Bye!
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Thank you Thank you Thank you
Parker who sits at my table in English class, for not forcing me to read a poem in front of the whole class tomorrow. I can't read out loud to save my life. I stutter and I mix up words and lose my place and it's not good. Maybe it's out of pity, maybe it's because you don't want me messing up the presentation, maybe you've finally decided to do work and not leave it all to Sydney and I.
But Sarah. Honestly? It's not ok to ask someone what's wrong with them. Yeah. I know I hold index cards under words while I read, and I'm a slow reader. I know that my first draft of writing has silly errors on things I know how to spell, and I mix up simple words. I know, and I don't need you telling me.
It's not right to ask someone, "How did you get into Honors English? You're half-illiterate. What's wrong with you, anyway?"
Ok. And you're saying that while not actually doing any work yourself. While you've been sitting back this whole time letting me and Sydney do the work, and just because Parker volunteered to do something doesn't give you the right to be a jerk.
And for your information, I can read and write perfectly well. I'm writing (and editing) this blog post, aren't I, half hoping you'll read it? It's called dyslexia, and no it's not a synonym for stupid. And to answer your question, I got into Honors English by working as hard as I possibly could and editing my work like crazy. And I'm smarter than you think I am.
But Sarah. Honestly? It's not ok to ask someone what's wrong with them. Yeah. I know I hold index cards under words while I read, and I'm a slow reader. I know that my first draft of writing has silly errors on things I know how to spell, and I mix up simple words. I know, and I don't need you telling me.
It's not right to ask someone, "How did you get into Honors English? You're half-illiterate. What's wrong with you, anyway?"
Ok. And you're saying that while not actually doing any work yourself. While you've been sitting back this whole time letting me and Sydney do the work, and just because Parker volunteered to do something doesn't give you the right to be a jerk.
And for your information, I can read and write perfectly well. I'm writing (and editing) this blog post, aren't I, half hoping you'll read it? It's called dyslexia, and no it's not a synonym for stupid. And to answer your question, I got into Honors English by working as hard as I possibly could and editing my work like crazy. And I'm smarter than you think I am.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Death Pencils
English today was... interesting.
We were talking about symbolism and how tangible things can represent intangible things, and so the teacher had us compile a class list of each. Our tangible list went something like,
Lamp
Girl
Pencil
Burger
Paper
Pants
After someone said "armpit" she moved on to intangible.
People were saying things like this,
Love
Happiness
Memories
Strength
Power
Pain
Death
Which made the next person say "torture", which I guess is technically incorrect, so she moved us on.
We had to use symbolism and say (tangible) is like (intangible) because...
Mine was, "Pencils are like death because you can be stabbed to death with a pencil."
Don't judge. By this point I was finding all of this hilarious and my brain was really loopy and my head hurt. I only had about an hour and a half of sleep last night, at 10pm last night my brother tackled me and slammed my head into the wall, and by the time I got to English class, since I hadn't had time to eat breakfast this morning, there had been no food in my stomach for 19 hours since dinner and I was about to pass out. Plus, lunch is right in the middle of that class, so by that point it was only 20 minutes away and all I could think about was food.
Now that I've eaten and I don't have a headache I don't really know what I was thinking.
We were talking about symbolism and how tangible things can represent intangible things, and so the teacher had us compile a class list of each. Our tangible list went something like,
Lamp
Girl
Pencil
Burger
Paper
Pants
After someone said "armpit" she moved on to intangible.
People were saying things like this,
Love
Happiness
Memories
Strength
Power
Pain
Death
Which made the next person say "torture", which I guess is technically incorrect, so she moved us on.
We had to use symbolism and say (tangible) is like (intangible) because...
Mine was, "Pencils are like death because you can be stabbed to death with a pencil."
Don't judge. By this point I was finding all of this hilarious and my brain was really loopy and my head hurt. I only had about an hour and a half of sleep last night, at 10pm last night my brother tackled me and slammed my head into the wall, and by the time I got to English class, since I hadn't had time to eat breakfast this morning, there had been no food in my stomach for 19 hours since dinner and I was about to pass out. Plus, lunch is right in the middle of that class, so by that point it was only 20 minutes away and all I could think about was food.
Now that I've eaten and I don't have a headache I don't really know what I was thinking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)