Well, the school year is coming to an end. There are only two more Creative Writing classes left before I pack my bookbag one last time and run down the hallway and out the doors screaming happy things whilst thinking of the next weeks of summer freedom.
Despite the fact that I love summer, I have loved Creative Writing class during school very much. I loved my teacher and my friends in the class, and all the writing craziness that we embarked on together.
I've learned new and different forms of poetry. Our short story section was my favorite! I even enjoyed our end of the year project. I've created more fictional characters in the past four marking periods of creative writing than I have in my entire life. The class has made me stretch the limits of my creativity.
I think my writing skills have improved. I've learned to write more concisely, add greater details, write about even the smallest topic, and write a whole story with just dialogue! It has been one of my favorite classes I have taken in high school.
Even though this is the last post that my teacher will be grading, I will probably come back to this blog from time to time to write down my thoughts. I've enjoyed the blogging experience!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Funerals
I attended a funeral yesterday for my great uncle. I hadn't seen him for at least two years before he passed away. He was eighty-three and I regret not visiting him before he died.
After the funeral my great aunt held a luncheon for the family members and relatives. Sixty of us were there, including my family and many relatives from Arizona. With us all there, gathered around the tables, eating and looking at pictures of my great uncle, my aunt said something that I cannot forget. She got to her feet and said, "Your uncle did pass away, and we miss him, but he'd of been happy to know that you're all here, together, because of him."
I really wish that there could have been a reunion for the family that my great uncle could have attended before he died. There wasn't anything more he loved than family.
I know there is a great reunion in heaven going on right now, and that my great uncle is happy to be there. He was in pain here on earth, and wanting to go home to his Father and family in heaven, but I miss him.
After the funeral my great aunt held a luncheon for the family members and relatives. Sixty of us were there, including my family and many relatives from Arizona. With us all there, gathered around the tables, eating and looking at pictures of my great uncle, my aunt said something that I cannot forget. She got to her feet and said, "Your uncle did pass away, and we miss him, but he'd of been happy to know that you're all here, together, because of him."
I really wish that there could have been a reunion for the family that my great uncle could have attended before he died. There wasn't anything more he loved than family.
I know there is a great reunion in heaven going on right now, and that my great uncle is happy to be there. He was in pain here on earth, and wanting to go home to his Father and family in heaven, but I miss him.
My Love Affair with Holmes and Everything Sherlockian
Since at least the age of ten, I've been in love with Arthur Conan Doyle's fabulous, timeless, classic detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes of 221 B. Baker street. I'm not sure what precipitated my love of Sherlock (or why I call myself a Sherlockian) but I do know that my time spent in the presence of everything Holmes has been fabulous.
My mom says that I have this way of talking about Sherlock Holmes like he is real, as opposed to a pen and ink book character. I believe I do this because of the books. When I read a Sherlock mystery, I'm inevitably drawn into the story as if I'm another character running across moors and through the streets of London beside Sherlock and his trusty Doctor Watson.
Today there are many ways for fans of Sherlock Holmes to enjoy more Sherlock. You can visit 221 B. Baker Street in London, watch old black and white and new Sherlock movies, or watch the BBC's Sherlock (a very fabulous TV show set in a modern day London with the same characters).
As Sherlock says, "The game is afoot, Watson!"
My mom says that I have this way of talking about Sherlock Holmes like he is real, as opposed to a pen and ink book character. I believe I do this because of the books. When I read a Sherlock mystery, I'm inevitably drawn into the story as if I'm another character running across moors and through the streets of London beside Sherlock and his trusty Doctor Watson.
Today there are many ways for fans of Sherlock Holmes to enjoy more Sherlock. You can visit 221 B. Baker Street in London, watch old black and white and new Sherlock movies, or watch the BBC's Sherlock (a very fabulous TV show set in a modern day London with the same characters).
As Sherlock says, "The game is afoot, Watson!"
Friday, May 18, 2012
The End of the Year
You can tell when summer is coming. My classmates are restless, teachers collect books, and my mom starts counting down the days before she can stop having to drive us to school. The heat outside increases daily, the sun shines brighter, and the classrooms seem hotter. Concentration is difficult in class. I'm antsy to be outside on my deck, lemonade in hand, sun tan lotion on my body. My priorities change. I study a little less for tests. My homework answers are shorter. I just want summer! My body is fully present at school each day, but my mind is wandering. It's wandering to the waves and the sand and the green grass. My mind is already tasting ice cream and sipping sweet, sweet tea. Just a few more weeks to go, and summer's here!
Things That Have Changed
1. My school: When I was in elementary ("Elementary, my dear Watson!") school, there was not a large high school section like we now have. I can't remember which year all of my current classrooms were built, but before it was just a lot of concrete brick rooms where elementary and middleschool kids ventured in on missions from teachers to retrieve costumes or tissues. Now it's where I spend most of my time.
2. My book tastes: When I was younger, books were so simple, and usually taught simple life lessons that could be applied simply: Sarah the Salamander takes out the trash, Lily the Lion learns to play with the other lions, or Max the Monkey listens to his parents or his bananas are confiscated. (I didn't even know the word confiscated then!) But now there is violence in the books I read, there are tyrants, heroes, deaths, births, philosophy, religious debates, morals... everything changed. Characters have middle names in the books I read now. Can you remember reading a children's book with pictures where the character had a middle name? I think it is incredible how the human mind grows, right along with our bodies.
3. The way I see things: When I was little I can't remember thinking about children that were starving, girls caught in sex trafficking, which president to vote for, which college to attend, what to say to impress someone, which foot hits the brake pedal, which the gas, or whether or not the door is locked before I go to bed each night. When I was little life was very simple. Now there are so many thoughts one can think about. There is so much to do and life rarely slows down unless you take a step back and say, "I need a break." It's not all bad. I like that I can think things out for myself now, choose what I like best, and make decisions, but I do miss the simplicity of only worrying about being able to swing after supper and whether or not Mommy will be serving vanilla ice cream, or chocolate.
2. My book tastes: When I was younger, books were so simple, and usually taught simple life lessons that could be applied simply: Sarah the Salamander takes out the trash, Lily the Lion learns to play with the other lions, or Max the Monkey listens to his parents or his bananas are confiscated. (I didn't even know the word confiscated then!) But now there is violence in the books I read, there are tyrants, heroes, deaths, births, philosophy, religious debates, morals... everything changed. Characters have middle names in the books I read now. Can you remember reading a children's book with pictures where the character had a middle name? I think it is incredible how the human mind grows, right along with our bodies.
3. The way I see things: When I was little I can't remember thinking about children that were starving, girls caught in sex trafficking, which president to vote for, which college to attend, what to say to impress someone, which foot hits the brake pedal, which the gas, or whether or not the door is locked before I go to bed each night. When I was little life was very simple. Now there are so many thoughts one can think about. There is so much to do and life rarely slows down unless you take a step back and say, "I need a break." It's not all bad. I like that I can think things out for myself now, choose what I like best, and make decisions, but I do miss the simplicity of only worrying about being able to swing after supper and whether or not Mommy will be serving vanilla ice cream, or chocolate.
My Little Library
Hushed, quiet, and subdued are three adjectives used to describe a library. Many people see shelves of books and think of chilly, chair-filled rooms where people read. Many would call libraries boring, too.
But for me, I am an avid lover of libraries. It's like I walk into one and my heartbeat quickens. My adrenaline gets going. I can read and browse the book titles and float down the aisles looking for new subjects to explore, all through the pages of a book.
I'd love to have a date in the library. Perhaps that's one of the most nerdiest things I've ever said, but it's true.
What exactly is a library? TheFreeDictionary.com has the word library listed as: A place in which literary and artistic materials, such as books, periodicals, newspapers, pamphlets, prints, records, and tapes, are kept for reading, reference, or lending.
With this definition, just think of all the little libraries sitting in people's homes! I guess my room, with its three bookshelves and various floor piles of books, is also considered a library. I've always told my parents that the first thing I'm going to look for when I buy a house is an extra small room for a little library. Forget the kitchen sink and room for a washer and dryer!
I'll live off books, housed in my personal little library.
But for me, I am an avid lover of libraries. It's like I walk into one and my heartbeat quickens. My adrenaline gets going. I can read and browse the book titles and float down the aisles looking for new subjects to explore, all through the pages of a book.
I'd love to have a date in the library. Perhaps that's one of the most nerdiest things I've ever said, but it's true.
What exactly is a library? TheFreeDictionary.com has the word library listed as: A place in which literary and artistic materials, such as books, periodicals, newspapers, pamphlets, prints, records, and tapes, are kept for reading, reference, or lending.
With this definition, just think of all the little libraries sitting in people's homes! I guess my room, with its three bookshelves and various floor piles of books, is also considered a library. I've always told my parents that the first thing I'm going to look for when I buy a house is an extra small room for a little library. Forget the kitchen sink and room for a washer and dryer!
I'll live off books, housed in my personal little library.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Nursery Rhyme Parody
Nursery Rhyme: There Was an Old Man with a Beard
There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, "It is just as I feared! --
Two Owls and a Hen, four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard." -Edward Lear
My Nursery Rhyme:
There was an Old Man with a nose,
Who cried, "It is just as I supposed! --
Five Squirrels and a Frog, three bees and a Hog,
Have all made their home on my nose."
Physical Therapy
So it has been about 8 weeks since my knee surgery. On the 4th week, I started physical therapy. I go once a week, but I have to do excercises every night. (And on the nights I forget or don't have time, I am sorry, dear therapist.)
I don't mind therapy. I go after school on Tuesdays. My therapist is a man and, since I am a girl, I've learned it's best to wear long pants during my sessions. (And even if it's a guy therapist with a guy patient you should probably still wear long pants to ensure maximum coverage.)
My therapist is also funny! So it helps to break some of the awkward tension.
Anyway, the thing that's always awkward is when you're in a big room with other people and you need to do leg raises and high knee bends and everyone has a view of your butt and then your therapist is like, "Let's do those butt squeezes to strengthen your thigh muscles," and you start the butt squeezes but then you realize that your thigh muscles are practically non-existent since you haven't walked on your leg without support for eight weeks so then you go to try and instead of performing a butt squeeze leg lift it just looks like you're having a spasmodic seizure on the exercise table in a room full of other people doing various other squeeze exercises. (That long sentence was used to show how exasperating therapy can seem sometimes.)
So yeah, that's physical therapy for you. (At least my experiences, anyway.)
I don't mind therapy. I go after school on Tuesdays. My therapist is a man and, since I am a girl, I've learned it's best to wear long pants during my sessions. (And even if it's a guy therapist with a guy patient you should probably still wear long pants to ensure maximum coverage.)
My therapist is also funny! So it helps to break some of the awkward tension.
Anyway, the thing that's always awkward is when you're in a big room with other people and you need to do leg raises and high knee bends and everyone has a view of your butt and then your therapist is like, "Let's do those butt squeezes to strengthen your thigh muscles," and you start the butt squeezes but then you realize that your thigh muscles are practically non-existent since you haven't walked on your leg without support for eight weeks so then you go to try and instead of performing a butt squeeze leg lift it just looks like you're having a spasmodic seizure on the exercise table in a room full of other people doing various other squeeze exercises. (That long sentence was used to show how exasperating therapy can seem sometimes.)
So yeah, that's physical therapy for you. (At least my experiences, anyway.)
Curly Hair
I have curly hair. And not just, you know, "wavy" curly, but REALLY curly hair. And if I don't put de-frizzing gel on my hair when I get out of the shower, or if I brush through my curls, it literally looks as if I've styled my hair using egg beaters. Now while I really don't suggest the egg beater styling effect, I don't suggest curling irons either, when you have curly hair. See, sometimes my momma will say, "Oh, honey, your natural curly hair is lovely, but why don't you try smoothing your hair out and then re-curling it, to take away the frizz from your natural curls but still keep curliness?" Now I did try this a few times. I found some minor (or not so minor) repercussions. 1) Curling irons can burn your hands and forehead. And then your burn will blister, and pop, and bleed, and then scar. And it hurts. 2) Why would I curl my hair after straightening it when my hair's naturally curly? What's wrong with natural curl? Sure, it's a bit frizzy sometimes, but it's natural. 3) It's alot less time consuming to shower and anti-frizz gel and go then spending forty minutes straightening and re-curling your hair.
Does less frizzy hair save the planet? Do I win one million dollars everytime I have perfect hair? No.
So I am embracing natural hair and going with it and liking it. When people ask you to change what is naturally you, never think you have to!
Does less frizzy hair save the planet? Do I win one million dollars everytime I have perfect hair? No.
So I am embracing natural hair and going with it and liking it. When people ask you to change what is naturally you, never think you have to!
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Battle Ball
So I know I've done a few blog posts on my, ah... dislike of gym class. But even though I don't like gym class, I do enjoy a few select games, like capture the flag and dodgeball, which, coincidentally, we no longer play in high school gym because those games are for children. What's the matter with the world? Dodgeball is amazing, no matter what the age!
I think I inherited my love for dodgeball from my dad. When he was younger a bus used to collect the kids in his neighborhood and take them to the YMCA for what my dad calls "Battle Ball" tournaments. I actually like the name Battle Ball over dodgeball. It sounds more aggressive and intense.
My dad's team was called the "Wreckers" and once, he claims, he won the Battle Ball tournament. No matter how humorous it is for someone to say that they won a "Battle Ball tournament", I think it sounds fabulous!
So when I'm off crutches and able to run around, I might just have some high school friends over for a dodgeball game. Because dodgeball is awesome and can definitely bring out the competitive side in anyone, no matter what age they are.
I think I inherited my love for dodgeball from my dad. When he was younger a bus used to collect the kids in his neighborhood and take them to the YMCA for what my dad calls "Battle Ball" tournaments. I actually like the name Battle Ball over dodgeball. It sounds more aggressive and intense.
My dad's team was called the "Wreckers" and once, he claims, he won the Battle Ball tournament. No matter how humorous it is for someone to say that they won a "Battle Ball tournament", I think it sounds fabulous!
So when I'm off crutches and able to run around, I might just have some high school friends over for a dodgeball game. Because dodgeball is awesome and can definitely bring out the competitive side in anyone, no matter what age they are.
My Plans for this Summer
One of my favorite words would have to be summer. Just hearing the word instantly fills me with hope! Summer is a time of laughter, a time of beaches and sand (and not worrying about being sandy) and smoothies and carefree evenings with the promise of relaxation the next day, too. Summer is a time of family and a time of friends.
At the beginning of summer each year I try to make a list of things to accomplish. My list is not very long this year, because usually I make huge lists and accomplish nothing. So, without further adieu:
1. Read at least 20 books this summer. (Books that you enjoy. If you don't enjoy a book you pick up, change books.)
2. Memorize at least 5 poems of varying length. (You never know when you'll need a good poem.)
3. Clean room at least 1 time each week. (Because cleanliness will relax my mind more.)
There you have it! Voila! (I know, this is a very nerdy list of things, but it's what I love.)
Summer here we come, folks!
At the beginning of summer each year I try to make a list of things to accomplish. My list is not very long this year, because usually I make huge lists and accomplish nothing. So, without further adieu:
1. Read at least 20 books this summer. (Books that you enjoy. If you don't enjoy a book you pick up, change books.)
2. Memorize at least 5 poems of varying length. (You never know when you'll need a good poem.)
3. Clean room at least 1 time each week. (Because cleanliness will relax my mind more.)
There you have it! Voila! (I know, this is a very nerdy list of things, but it's what I love.)
Summer here we come, folks!
The Daily Ritual
I do have a daily ritual, and no... it's not human sacrificing or anything akin to a Mayan ritual. That's what I think about when the word ritual comes to mind. So I looked up the actual definition of the word ritual on Dictionary.com and it is "an established or prescribed procedure for a religious or other rite".
So I guess an established procedure that I have would happen everyday when I get home from school. I walk in the door, put my bookbag by the table, go to the bathroom sink, and wash off my makeup from school. I love doing makeup, don't get me wrong, but when I come home from school, tired, I just want to be myself and not wear makeup and rub my eyes without worrying about streaking my face with mascara. Then I go to my room and change into comfortable clothes.
Home is a place I can be myself entirely. Washing my face, applying moisturizer, and climbing in my favorite comfy clothes after school is how I relax, take a deep breath, and begin the rest of the evening's activites.
So I guess an established procedure that I have would happen everyday when I get home from school. I walk in the door, put my bookbag by the table, go to the bathroom sink, and wash off my makeup from school. I love doing makeup, don't get me wrong, but when I come home from school, tired, I just want to be myself and not wear makeup and rub my eyes without worrying about streaking my face with mascara. Then I go to my room and change into comfortable clothes.
Home is a place I can be myself entirely. Washing my face, applying moisturizer, and climbing in my favorite comfy clothes after school is how I relax, take a deep breath, and begin the rest of the evening's activites.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Pastels
So my favorite art medium happens to be pastel crayons. I am in love with them. They aren't like crayons that children (and adults too!) color with. They're creamier and closer to really hard modeling clay that happens to work as a crayon. I love blending colors and creating bold contrasts on a clean white piece of paper. I love getting lost in a picture, just letting out my energy by "pastelling". Often, my arm is covered in colored pastel streaks from my rapid arm movements across a page.
The sad thing is that not many people at school like pastels. (In my art class.) I think I happen to be the only one. So we don't do many exercises with them. But I learn at home, sequestered in my art corner of our basement, reading tips and techniques in books or, more commonly, just letting loose and experimenting with color and texture. My plans for this summer include going outdoors with pastels to draw landscapes, although I'm not sure how pastels and the heat of the sun in ninety degree weather fare.
Happy pastelling!
The sad thing is that not many people at school like pastels. (In my art class.) I think I happen to be the only one. So we don't do many exercises with them. But I learn at home, sequestered in my art corner of our basement, reading tips and techniques in books or, more commonly, just letting loose and experimenting with color and texture. My plans for this summer include going outdoors with pastels to draw landscapes, although I'm not sure how pastels and the heat of the sun in ninety degree weather fare.
Happy pastelling!
Stalker Colleges
Currently in my life I'm being stalked. It's stalking season. Stalked by colleges, that is. See, when I open up my email, or my mail box, at least three-fourths of the mail is from colleges. Colleges in Iowa, colleges in Texas, colleges in Maine... and out of over at least two hundred packets of information on colleges I've received, I have only actually requested information from one college. Only one.
Apparently colleges like stalking high school students. I mean, it takes money to print all those pamphlets, and time to send those emails. And when they send duplicate emails and pamphlets over a period of six months after you haven't requested any additional information, you really know they like stalking you.
Apparently colleges like stalking high school students. I mean, it takes money to print all those pamphlets, and time to send those emails. And when they send duplicate emails and pamphlets over a period of six months after you haven't requested any additional information, you really know they like stalking you.
Something to Learn
I think it would be interesting to learn how to craft blown glass art: jars, goblets, those fancy glass bowls that sit on tables as centerpieces. I've seen videos of it being done, but never in person. There is a really hot fire that the molten glass is placed in on a long stick, and then those people work their artist magic, and beautiful glass objects are created!
I think my fascination with this came from the fact that I've always had a fascination with Venice. Venice, Italy, happens to be famous for its Venetian blown glass. In all the books I've read about Venice, they always talk about the glass. There's usually a character, such as an old man, tan, with caloused hands and sensitive eyes, who has spent his life before a fire, blowing glass and learning the trade.
I think it would be challenging to learn, but the results that those people produce are beautiful. Delicate glass roses, fragile glasses, all in gorgeous glass colors. It's truly a magnificent art form.
I hope I can learn!
I think my fascination with this came from the fact that I've always had a fascination with Venice. Venice, Italy, happens to be famous for its Venetian blown glass. In all the books I've read about Venice, they always talk about the glass. There's usually a character, such as an old man, tan, with caloused hands and sensitive eyes, who has spent his life before a fire, blowing glass and learning the trade.
I think it would be challenging to learn, but the results that those people produce are beautiful. Delicate glass roses, fragile glasses, all in gorgeous glass colors. It's truly a magnificent art form.
I hope I can learn!
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Late Nights
I have had intense colds the last few weeks. My mom suggests that it is because of my late nights, but I always retort that I need to stay up late. Why? you might ask. Well, I have copious amounts of homework. I could probably share my homework with all the children on my street and still have enough to satisfy me. And when I have lots of homework, I need to stay up late because I don't just want to go home from school, have dinner, and do homework for three more hours. I also need to stay awake to read and talk to my sister and watch some TV and have a tiny social life with my family. Sometimes I get really stressed when I think about what my life will be: All I do is school, then homework, only to be followed by college in a year, more homework, then a job just so I can pay for vacations, and then years down the road, after working to save money for retirement, I'll have some earnings (hopefully) for a vacation, but I'll be too worked out and arthritis-filled to really enjoy said vacations. And then I'll die. Sometimes my mind just goes in circles with this pattern, hoping to find a way out, but we have to live.
Anyway, all that to say that I stay up late to do homework and have free time, then I get sick because I stay up late, which makes me miss school to recover and use far too many tissues, which means I have to stay up late again to remake work that I missed when I stayed home because I stayed up late, which made me sick.
Life is one uphill climb, let me tell you, and I am so excited for summer I could scream. And I know I love school and I love the learning so much, but it takes a toll anymore on a person.
Anyway, all that to say that I stay up late to do homework and have free time, then I get sick because I stay up late, which makes me miss school to recover and use far too many tissues, which means I have to stay up late again to remake work that I missed when I stayed home because I stayed up late, which made me sick.
Life is one uphill climb, let me tell you, and I am so excited for summer I could scream. And I know I love school and I love the learning so much, but it takes a toll anymore on a person.
My Month of Special Significance
My month of special significance would need to be March. Besides the fact that I was born in March (on the 15th, the "Ides of March", the day that Ceasar was knifed...), I enjoy March because of the weather. March weather is so exhilarating! I love snow, and I love rain. March seems to be a wild card when it comes to weather. One day its blizzarding ("Like the month of March in the year 19-something or other," my momma always says) and the next it's pouring rain and then it's partly cloudy with a blustering wind followed by a smattering of sunshine with a later touch of snow. Many of my favorite poems of Robert Frost contain snow as a theme, and I associate snow with March.
March is also the month my Aunt Debbie passed away in, which greatly influenced my life and the life of my family when I was in the eighth grade. I've always been a serious person, but there's something about my aunt's death that changed me that year. Maybe it was because I was young and hadn't known anybody that died who was so close, but every March I also feel her passing again.
March is also the last stretch of winter before spring. I like March because we're almost through the cold months, approaching the warm months, but with enough frost and rain left to enjoy. Spring, and rebirth, is right around the corner, but far enough away to give you something to look forward to.
March is also the month my Aunt Debbie passed away in, which greatly influenced my life and the life of my family when I was in the eighth grade. I've always been a serious person, but there's something about my aunt's death that changed me that year. Maybe it was because I was young and hadn't known anybody that died who was so close, but every March I also feel her passing again.
March is also the last stretch of winter before spring. I like March because we're almost through the cold months, approaching the warm months, but with enough frost and rain left to enjoy. Spring, and rebirth, is right around the corner, but far enough away to give you something to look forward to.
If your childhood were packed in a trunk, what would be inside?
1. Ballet shoes and white Keds with sparkly beads on the laces.
2. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and Harriet the Spy.
3. My teddy bear, named B.
4. Cherry tree blossoms.
5. Fluffy pillows.
6. Christmas tree ornaments (handmade in preschool) and Christmas lights.
7. My Precious Moments Bible.
8. Notes from my Mommy.
9. Lunch money.
10. Bright colored, plastic bead bracelets. (Handmade.)
11. Peter pan VHS movies.
12. My favorite backpack from kindergarten. (Magenta, L.L. Bean.)
13. The "Welcome Back Daddy" sign Emily and I made when my dad came back from Iraq.
14. Sand from the shores of Chincoteague.
2. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and Harriet the Spy.
3. My teddy bear, named B.
4. Cherry tree blossoms.
5. Fluffy pillows.
6. Christmas tree ornaments (handmade in preschool) and Christmas lights.
7. My Precious Moments Bible.
8. Notes from my Mommy.
9. Lunch money.
10. Bright colored, plastic bead bracelets. (Handmade.)
11. Peter pan VHS movies.
12. My favorite backpack from kindergarten. (Magenta, L.L. Bean.)
13. The "Welcome Back Daddy" sign Emily and I made when my dad came back from Iraq.
14. Sand from the shores of Chincoteague.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
The Great Gatsby
For Honors English class we've been assigned the book The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgeral, to read. I started it having no idea whatsoever about its subject. I had heard of the book before, but never read it. As I started reading, I got pulled into the story line quickly, wondering what this book was really about.
To be honest, there's plenty of affairs and mistresses and drinking and wild parties at 3:00 a.m. in the morning and bootleggers and mysterious men in pressed 1920's suits and unrequited love, and that being said, it's a good book. I find it quite like a soap opera, where I'm reading the book, and suddenly I burst out into emotion, yelling at a book character for doing something crazy. If I'd have any complaints, it would be that the main character, Nick Carraway, basically just watches his friends and aquaintances sink deeper into the mires of their self made misery. But still, it's a good book.
F. Scott Fitzgerald describes the 1920's beautifully, capturing the angst and unrest and awakening of a nation fresh out of a war and into the roaring twenties. The characters are unique and individual, and if you haven't picked up a copy of the book, I would definitely suggest it! I still have three more chapters to go. I can't wait to keep reading!
To be honest, there's plenty of affairs and mistresses and drinking and wild parties at 3:00 a.m. in the morning and bootleggers and mysterious men in pressed 1920's suits and unrequited love, and that being said, it's a good book. I find it quite like a soap opera, where I'm reading the book, and suddenly I burst out into emotion, yelling at a book character for doing something crazy. If I'd have any complaints, it would be that the main character, Nick Carraway, basically just watches his friends and aquaintances sink deeper into the mires of their self made misery. But still, it's a good book.
F. Scott Fitzgerald describes the 1920's beautifully, capturing the angst and unrest and awakening of a nation fresh out of a war and into the roaring twenties. The characters are unique and individual, and if you haven't picked up a copy of the book, I would definitely suggest it! I still have three more chapters to go. I can't wait to keep reading!
Boy Bands and Concerts
My sister is obsessed with the boy band "One Direction". (I'm serious... OBSESSED.) She sings their songs all day, makes jokes that you'd only understand if you are familiar with the boy band members: Niall, Zayn, Louis, Harry, and Liam, and she has their posters plastered all over her room. To be fair, I have 2 posters of them in my room, but that might be because I think they're cute. (And they're British, so, they've got accents. Not that that determines one's self worth, but it sure helps capture the attention of American teenage girls.)
Whenever my sister runs through the house screaming about One Direction, their tour, the last shirt color they wore, my dad rolls his eyes and walks away. But even worse is the fact that my dad actually has been humming the lyrics to their songs because Emily plays them so much.)
I remember boy bands like the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync. I wasn't that crazy about them then because I was younger, but I still remember the general craziness attached to hearing their songs and seeing their faces on TV or on posters. But it never ceases to bring a smile to my face when Emily comments on her British boy band One Direction. She really loves them.
Which brings me to the fact that, in twelve months, I'll be at the Hershey Giant Center watching One Direction perform at a concert, my crazy screaming sister beside me losing her mind, surrounded by thousands of other fans screaming their heads off and losing their minds, while I stand their with my ear plugs securely in place, dreading being mobbed by a bunch of fan girls. It's going to be quite a night, I'm sure.
Whenever my sister runs through the house screaming about One Direction, their tour, the last shirt color they wore, my dad rolls his eyes and walks away. But even worse is the fact that my dad actually has been humming the lyrics to their songs because Emily plays them so much.)
I remember boy bands like the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync. I wasn't that crazy about them then because I was younger, but I still remember the general craziness attached to hearing their songs and seeing their faces on TV or on posters. But it never ceases to bring a smile to my face when Emily comments on her British boy band One Direction. She really loves them.
Which brings me to the fact that, in twelve months, I'll be at the Hershey Giant Center watching One Direction perform at a concert, my crazy screaming sister beside me losing her mind, surrounded by thousands of other fans screaming their heads off and losing their minds, while I stand their with my ear plugs securely in place, dreading being mobbed by a bunch of fan girls. It's going to be quite a night, I'm sure.
My Favorite Things
Here is a list of some of my favorite things. (And for your information, I wrote this listening to the Sound of Music song on favorite things):
1. Large sweaters (particularly my mom's large sweaters from the 80's that my dad gave her)
2. Brand new school spiral notebooks (they make me want to write and fill the pages!)
3. Prescriptionless glasses (bought at Walmart, these are nice accessories and they make me feel smarter when I do my homework wearing them)
4. Luden's cherry cough drops (fabulous for a cough or scratchy throat, or just as a sweet treat, honestly)
5. Having conversations with my sister using only our eyes (we know what we both mean just by looking at each other)
6. Reading by candlelight (there is just something so beautiful about reading how others read in the past, before so much electricity and technology)
7. Coming home from school to find my cat Fred in the same place I left him (he's so lazy and sleepy and lovable)
8. Fresh, sweet berries with sugar sprinkled on them (they remind me of summer!)
9. Buying used books and finding underlined and highlighted passages in them (it tells you about their previous owners!)
10. Walking into school in the morning, feeling sluggish, melancholy, and craving coffee, and then seeing the lovely smiles of my best friends (they are God's greatest gifts!)
1. Large sweaters (particularly my mom's large sweaters from the 80's that my dad gave her)
2. Brand new school spiral notebooks (they make me want to write and fill the pages!)
3. Prescriptionless glasses (bought at Walmart, these are nice accessories and they make me feel smarter when I do my homework wearing them)
4. Luden's cherry cough drops (fabulous for a cough or scratchy throat, or just as a sweet treat, honestly)
5. Having conversations with my sister using only our eyes (we know what we both mean just by looking at each other)
6. Reading by candlelight (there is just something so beautiful about reading how others read in the past, before so much electricity and technology)
7. Coming home from school to find my cat Fred in the same place I left him (he's so lazy and sleepy and lovable)
8. Fresh, sweet berries with sugar sprinkled on them (they remind me of summer!)
9. Buying used books and finding underlined and highlighted passages in them (it tells you about their previous owners!)
10. Walking into school in the morning, feeling sluggish, melancholy, and craving coffee, and then seeing the lovely smiles of my best friends (they are God's greatest gifts!)
Choosing an Author
This past week my English teacher told us we could pick any author, American, for our novel unit papers. The first paper is a biography of the author, the second is a summary and literary analysis of one of the author's books, and the third paper is a brief summary of what was going on in America during the author's life that would have influenced their work.
Okay, 1) I like many American authors and 2) It's difficult to pick just one author for pleasure reading alone, much less a graded paper, and 3) Some of the authors I like might not be very good for writing a paper on.
I thought about this as I held different books in my hands at the library. We need three sources, at least, for the papers, and so I looked down at the various books in my hand, trying to decide, officially, what author to write on. My dad was standing beside me. Our conversation went as follows:
"Nice, Abby, Hemingway, huh?"
"Yup, although do you think my teacher will mind the whole suicide thing?"
"Nah, it was part of his life."
"Good, because one of my other choices is Sylvia Plath, and she also committed suicide."
"Ah, okay, Abby. And is that a book on Edgar Allan Poe? Wasn't he a bit creepy?"
"Yeah, you know... ravens and hearts under floorboards, and swinging pendulums of death."
"What's the other author, Abby?"
"Twain."
"That's not so bad."
"Well, two of his children died, and he sunk into a depression he never quite recovered from, and he found one of his daughters dead in their family bathtub."
My dad scratched his head. "This isn't looking too good."
I ended up choosing Sylvia Plath. We haven't really talked about her peotry, or her book, The Bell Jar, in class, maybe because of her sad story and depression, but I think writing about her life will help me understand her work more. And even though she isn't my favorite author (my favorite authors are British and Chilean), I'm excited for this report.
Okay, 1) I like many American authors and 2) It's difficult to pick just one author for pleasure reading alone, much less a graded paper, and 3) Some of the authors I like might not be very good for writing a paper on.
I thought about this as I held different books in my hands at the library. We need three sources, at least, for the papers, and so I looked down at the various books in my hand, trying to decide, officially, what author to write on. My dad was standing beside me. Our conversation went as follows:
"Nice, Abby, Hemingway, huh?"
"Yup, although do you think my teacher will mind the whole suicide thing?"
"Nah, it was part of his life."
"Good, because one of my other choices is Sylvia Plath, and she also committed suicide."
"Ah, okay, Abby. And is that a book on Edgar Allan Poe? Wasn't he a bit creepy?"
"Yeah, you know... ravens and hearts under floorboards, and swinging pendulums of death."
"What's the other author, Abby?"
"Twain."
"That's not so bad."
"Well, two of his children died, and he sunk into a depression he never quite recovered from, and he found one of his daughters dead in their family bathtub."
My dad scratched his head. "This isn't looking too good."
I ended up choosing Sylvia Plath. We haven't really talked about her peotry, or her book, The Bell Jar, in class, maybe because of her sad story and depression, but I think writing about her life will help me understand her work more. And even though she isn't my favorite author (my favorite authors are British and Chilean), I'm excited for this report.
Chopped
So if you watch the Food Network Channel, you might've seen the show "Chopped". I love this show so much. During each episode, four cooks face off to make 3 courses: an entree, a main course, and a dessert. The thing is, though, they must use four specified ingredients from a black basket for each course. These ingredients are crazy and weird and often throw the contestants for a loop. (For example, the ingredients they have to use in one dish could be oysters, cottage cheese, green tea, and brussel sprouts.) And the contestants only have 20 to 30 minutes to prepare each full course! It's crazy!
I love watching this show with my family. We get really intense, guessing and betting on which cook will win, crowding around our small TV in our kitchen and watching with baited breath. Sometimes my dad leaves the room, saying, "I can't take this pressure, guys, my heart's starting to hurt!"
Then the judges eat the food, judge the contestants, and each round one cook is eliminated until the dessert round, when one wins! I just love this show, because, as weird as it sounds, it's fun watching it with my family, and I get some interesting cooking tips. I never cook, to be honest, and maybe I also just watch the show because I hope all of the cooking genius flowing around the TV screen will be absorbed into my brain by some magic process of osmosis.
And, you know, I love food, too.
I love watching this show with my family. We get really intense, guessing and betting on which cook will win, crowding around our small TV in our kitchen and watching with baited breath. Sometimes my dad leaves the room, saying, "I can't take this pressure, guys, my heart's starting to hurt!"
Then the judges eat the food, judge the contestants, and each round one cook is eliminated until the dessert round, when one wins! I just love this show, because, as weird as it sounds, it's fun watching it with my family, and I get some interesting cooking tips. I never cook, to be honest, and maybe I also just watch the show because I hope all of the cooking genius flowing around the TV screen will be absorbed into my brain by some magic process of osmosis.
And, you know, I love food, too.
Pottermore
You might know that I am a huge Harry Potter fan, both of the movies and the books. On April 13th, Pottermore officially opened to the public. Basically, it's an interactive website created by J. K. Rowling to allow Harry Potter fans more insight into the books, fun Potter-inspired games, and a chance to just continue your love of Harry Potter.
Well, I woke up early on the morning of April 13th, happened to check the Pottermore website, and found out that it was open. I signed up, received my entrance email, and in a few minutes I was exploring Pottermore. (This was much more lucky than the people who signed up in the evening, because they had to wait 1 to 2 days to get in due to the crazy amount of people on Pottermore.)
So on Pottermore, all the chapters of the Harry Potter books are laid out online, with lovely art, things to collect, and insight into the books. As you go through the chapters, you get to do things that Harry did in the books. For example, when Harry Potter is 11 years old, he goes to his 1st year at Hogwarts (the first book The Sorcerer's Stone). When you enter Hogwarts, you are sorted, based on your personality and character, into a "house", which acts as your family, your friends, and your common room and dorm room, where you sleep each night. There are four houses: Gryffindor (the brave at heart, impulsive, and those with nerve), Ravenclaw (those of wit, wisdom, and learning), Hufflepuff (just, hard working, and loyal), and Slytherin (the cunning, ambitious, close relationship folk).
So after taking a quiz on Pottermore created by J. K. Rowling herself (this is important, she really understands each house), you are sorted. I got Slytherin! Slytherin?! And that was exactly the house I wanted. (And then I made my family all sign up and take the quiz. Results: My momma got Gryffindor, my sister Hufflepuff, and my father Ravenclaw.) The crazy thing is that the houses we were all sorted into fit our personality perfectly. I'm sounding like a nerd, I know, but I love Harry Potter, and Pottermore!
Well, I woke up early on the morning of April 13th, happened to check the Pottermore website, and found out that it was open. I signed up, received my entrance email, and in a few minutes I was exploring Pottermore. (This was much more lucky than the people who signed up in the evening, because they had to wait 1 to 2 days to get in due to the crazy amount of people on Pottermore.)
So on Pottermore, all the chapters of the Harry Potter books are laid out online, with lovely art, things to collect, and insight into the books. As you go through the chapters, you get to do things that Harry did in the books. For example, when Harry Potter is 11 years old, he goes to his 1st year at Hogwarts (the first book The Sorcerer's Stone). When you enter Hogwarts, you are sorted, based on your personality and character, into a "house", which acts as your family, your friends, and your common room and dorm room, where you sleep each night. There are four houses: Gryffindor (the brave at heart, impulsive, and those with nerve), Ravenclaw (those of wit, wisdom, and learning), Hufflepuff (just, hard working, and loyal), and Slytherin (the cunning, ambitious, close relationship folk).
So after taking a quiz on Pottermore created by J. K. Rowling herself (this is important, she really understands each house), you are sorted. I got Slytherin! Slytherin?! And that was exactly the house I wanted. (And then I made my family all sign up and take the quiz. Results: My momma got Gryffindor, my sister Hufflepuff, and my father Ravenclaw.) The crazy thing is that the houses we were all sorted into fit our personality perfectly. I'm sounding like a nerd, I know, but I love Harry Potter, and Pottermore!
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Our Cats
My family has three cats: Fred, Petie, and Annie. I'd like to share about each of them.
1. Let's start with Fred. I prefer calling Fred, who is my cat, Sir Frederick, but to everyone else he is Fred or Freddy. We got Fred at Bender's potato farm when I was 8. He was "free" and waiting for me in the bunny cages. I ran screaming to my mom that I wanted the free kitten. She thought I was mistaking a bunny for a cat, but I was right, she gave in, and nine years later he still lives in our house. Fred is my favorite reading companion. He curls up in my lap and sleeps. Honestly, when I go to school Fred is in one position and when I come home he is still in the exact same position. His favorite activity is sleeping! He's skittish and crazy and sheds like a dog, but I love him. (Secretly, I imagine that if Fred would talk, he'd have a British accent.) He's silky soft and grey and white, with sleepy green eyes.
2. Secondly, Annie. Annie is the exact opposite of Fred. While Fred is skinny, Annie could probably join the Biggest Loser reality TV show. Ironically, when we got Annie she fit in my mom's hand. We got Annie from a local farm two days after she was born. Her mommy had been run over by a tractor, and the farmer knew we wanted a kitten, so they called us. Besides being overweight, Annie also doesn't meow. Her mommy died before she could teach her, so Annie only grunts. I do love Annie, and she must love me two, because I'm one of the only two people she lets pick her up. She's brown and bushy and quite lovely once you get to know her.
3. Finally, Petie. While Fred and Annie are indoor cats, Petie is our outdoor cat. He started coming around about two years ago and since then has become a member of the family. He's basically a really large "Tom cat" with brown, silky fur and a large bushy white tail. Unfortunately, Petie still has claws and enjoys scratching people. But still, he's our cat. My dad even made him a "cat-house" so he could live warmly during the winter. (And then during Christmas my dad preceded to string lights around this "cat-house".) Petie is definitely the man of the house. He's always outside the French doors in our kitchen waiting for us in the morning or when we get home from school. I love him.
1. Let's start with Fred. I prefer calling Fred, who is my cat, Sir Frederick, but to everyone else he is Fred or Freddy. We got Fred at Bender's potato farm when I was 8. He was "free" and waiting for me in the bunny cages. I ran screaming to my mom that I wanted the free kitten. She thought I was mistaking a bunny for a cat, but I was right, she gave in, and nine years later he still lives in our house. Fred is my favorite reading companion. He curls up in my lap and sleeps. Honestly, when I go to school Fred is in one position and when I come home he is still in the exact same position. His favorite activity is sleeping! He's skittish and crazy and sheds like a dog, but I love him. (Secretly, I imagine that if Fred would talk, he'd have a British accent.) He's silky soft and grey and white, with sleepy green eyes.
2. Secondly, Annie. Annie is the exact opposite of Fred. While Fred is skinny, Annie could probably join the Biggest Loser reality TV show. Ironically, when we got Annie she fit in my mom's hand. We got Annie from a local farm two days after she was born. Her mommy had been run over by a tractor, and the farmer knew we wanted a kitten, so they called us. Besides being overweight, Annie also doesn't meow. Her mommy died before she could teach her, so Annie only grunts. I do love Annie, and she must love me two, because I'm one of the only two people she lets pick her up. She's brown and bushy and quite lovely once you get to know her.
3. Finally, Petie. While Fred and Annie are indoor cats, Petie is our outdoor cat. He started coming around about two years ago and since then has become a member of the family. He's basically a really large "Tom cat" with brown, silky fur and a large bushy white tail. Unfortunately, Petie still has claws and enjoys scratching people. But still, he's our cat. My dad even made him a "cat-house" so he could live warmly during the winter. (And then during Christmas my dad preceded to string lights around this "cat-house".) Petie is definitely the man of the house. He's always outside the French doors in our kitchen waiting for us in the morning or when we get home from school. I love him.
Bookstores
Bookstores are dangerous places. I've come to truly believe this. Whenever I walk into them, most especially used or secondhand bookstores, my heart rate increases while my stress level simultaneously decreases. It's like I've walked into paradise. Used bookstores are so much better than new bookstores. The books you can find are just wonderful. Whether they're old, out of print, or completely unexpected, you're sure to find it there.
My favorite part of used books must be the fact that other people have owned them. I love opening up books and finding marginalia, small notes, underlined passages, and highlighted words. That means that those quotes meant something to other people. It's so cool! (Needless to say, I think it's completely okay to write in books.)
I love getting lost in a bookstore. Especially those bookstores where there are large stacks of books that lean this way and that. (Unless the book you want is on the bottom of the stack. But what's life without a little risk?) I don't even mind the slightly worn, musty smell that pervaids most used book stores. That is the smell of knowledge.
It probably wouldn't surprise you if I revealed that, for my seventeenth birthday, I asked to go to a secondhand bookshop. One of the best birthdays ever.
My favorite part of used books must be the fact that other people have owned them. I love opening up books and finding marginalia, small notes, underlined passages, and highlighted words. That means that those quotes meant something to other people. It's so cool! (Needless to say, I think it's completely okay to write in books.)
I love getting lost in a bookstore. Especially those bookstores where there are large stacks of books that lean this way and that. (Unless the book you want is on the bottom of the stack. But what's life without a little risk?) I don't even mind the slightly worn, musty smell that pervaids most used book stores. That is the smell of knowledge.
It probably wouldn't surprise you if I revealed that, for my seventeenth birthday, I asked to go to a secondhand bookshop. One of the best birthdays ever.
Scrapbooking
Throughout the seventeen years of my life, I've collected alot of things. Notes, pictures, scraps of papers, bulletins, pamphlets, ticket stubs, papers, photos... you name it. Fortunately for me, I've kept all of those things to remember my life. Unfortunately for me, I've kept all those things which have become crowded in my desk drawers, stashed in corners, under my bed, in books, etc.
I was complaining about my collection of paper memories one day when my friend casually suggested that I take everything that is bursting out of my drawers and compile it into a fabulous collection of scrapbooks.
Well that friend is a genious, because that's exactly what I did.
Seven scrapbooks later and I'm still not done. I've cleaned up my room, but now scrapbook pictures my mom has collected, too. I'll scrapbook my favorite pair of hair chopsticks that my sister broke, I scrapbook movie tickets, receipts from when I buy favorite things, bottle caps, pictures of my friends and me, pictures of my mom and her friends, everything and anything.
That's what I love about how I scrapbook. I do buy pretty stickers and fancy paper, but my scrapbooking style is much less strict than those scrapbooks that are pictured in magazines. I scrapbook haphazardly, lovingly, crazily... I've even scrapped wrapping paper from my favorite Christmas presents. Basically my scrapbooks are more like collages of paper memories.
I love them!
I was complaining about my collection of paper memories one day when my friend casually suggested that I take everything that is bursting out of my drawers and compile it into a fabulous collection of scrapbooks.
Well that friend is a genious, because that's exactly what I did.
Seven scrapbooks later and I'm still not done. I've cleaned up my room, but now scrapbook pictures my mom has collected, too. I'll scrapbook my favorite pair of hair chopsticks that my sister broke, I scrapbook movie tickets, receipts from when I buy favorite things, bottle caps, pictures of my friends and me, pictures of my mom and her friends, everything and anything.
That's what I love about how I scrapbook. I do buy pretty stickers and fancy paper, but my scrapbooking style is much less strict than those scrapbooks that are pictured in magazines. I scrapbook haphazardly, lovingly, crazily... I've even scrapped wrapping paper from my favorite Christmas presents. Basically my scrapbooks are more like collages of paper memories.
I love them!
Persuasion
Hello, my name is A. Nonymous. I'm here today, at your 121st Riptide, Michigan Convention, to offer you something special. I'm offering you, oh noble men and women of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan, a chance to purchase one hundred pairs of eye glass frames, without lenses, from my company, Universal Prescriptions.
Why should you order my glass frames? For one, they don't have any lenses, so you'll never have to worry about needing new and different prescriptions as your eyes change. That's why we're called Universal Prescriptions. Anyone can wear glass frames! It's when you add those lenses that things get tricky. Think about it: No lenses means never having to buy that glass cleaning spray or breathing on your lenses and then wiping them on your shirt. Hassle-free!
And did you know that when you, fine people of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan, purchase and wear these lenseless glass frames, you will be reaching out to the many people of your town who wear glasses themselves? They'll look at you wearing your glasses and think, Wow, I'm proud to live in a town where the members of my Chamber of Commerce wear such snazzy eyeglasses.
Finally, look out all of these styles! You wear bracelets, earrings, and necklaces! Have you ever thought that you might just want to accessorize even further by wearing a pair of fashionable eye glass frames? Without lenses, you won't have to worry about headaches if you tried to wear prescription glasses for fashion. No worries!
Just change up your look and impress your fellow citizens who wear glasses by buying a pair of lense-free glass frames from Universal Prescriptions! I promise you, you won't regret your purchase.
It's been a pleasure, men and women of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan. I'm your lense-free man, A. Nonymous.
Why should you order my glass frames? For one, they don't have any lenses, so you'll never have to worry about needing new and different prescriptions as your eyes change. That's why we're called Universal Prescriptions. Anyone can wear glass frames! It's when you add those lenses that things get tricky. Think about it: No lenses means never having to buy that glass cleaning spray or breathing on your lenses and then wiping them on your shirt. Hassle-free!
And did you know that when you, fine people of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan, purchase and wear these lenseless glass frames, you will be reaching out to the many people of your town who wear glasses themselves? They'll look at you wearing your glasses and think, Wow, I'm proud to live in a town where the members of my Chamber of Commerce wear such snazzy eyeglasses.
Finally, look out all of these styles! You wear bracelets, earrings, and necklaces! Have you ever thought that you might just want to accessorize even further by wearing a pair of fashionable eye glass frames? Without lenses, you won't have to worry about headaches if you tried to wear prescription glasses for fashion. No worries!
Just change up your look and impress your fellow citizens who wear glasses by buying a pair of lense-free glass frames from Universal Prescriptions! I promise you, you won't regret your purchase.
It's been a pleasure, men and women of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan. I'm your lense-free man, A. Nonymous.
My Odd Shelf
My favorite collection of essays is Anne Fadiman's book Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader. One of her essays, called "My Odd Shelf", is about her collection of strange books that don't seem to fit the rest of her library.
Though I don't have a particular shelf dedicated to odd, eccentric, or random books, I have purchased books that seem like they just don't fit in with the rest of my library. Here are some examples of what I would put on my odd shelf:
1. How to Grow Roses, by J. Horace McFarland and Robert Pyle
I love this little red, hardback book, published in 1937 by the American Rose Society, titled in loopy gold cursive. I bought it at the Dutchfest school book sale for 50 cents, found in a dusty cardboard box under numerous other used books. It's filled with lovely pictures and, even though I don't plan on growing roses, I enjoy flipping through the book, which now sits happily on my shelf.
2. A History of World Societies: Volume II, Since 1500, by McKay, Hill, and Buckler
This textbook, all 1,536 pages of it, covers the years from 1500 to 1980. Call me nerdy, but I love history and reading about how cultures have grown and changed. Reading this book is even more fun because the previous student who owned it highlighted important passages and scribbled tiny notes in it.
3. The Wordsworth Handbook of Kings & Queens: A Chronological Guide to the Great Dynasties of the World, by John E. Morby
This book covers every king and queen and illegitimate son and/or daughter and prince and princess from every nation up until 1989. IT IS AWESOME. I love looking at all of the interesting names. For example: Egbert, King of Wessex from 802-839. Hattushili II, King of the Hittites from 1380-1358. Hsiao Chuang Ti, Emperor of the Northern Wei Dynasty from 528-530. This book has even helped me on reports for school.
Though I don't have a particular shelf dedicated to odd, eccentric, or random books, I have purchased books that seem like they just don't fit in with the rest of my library. Here are some examples of what I would put on my odd shelf:
1. How to Grow Roses, by J. Horace McFarland and Robert Pyle
I love this little red, hardback book, published in 1937 by the American Rose Society, titled in loopy gold cursive. I bought it at the Dutchfest school book sale for 50 cents, found in a dusty cardboard box under numerous other used books. It's filled with lovely pictures and, even though I don't plan on growing roses, I enjoy flipping through the book, which now sits happily on my shelf.
2. A History of World Societies: Volume II, Since 1500, by McKay, Hill, and Buckler
This textbook, all 1,536 pages of it, covers the years from 1500 to 1980. Call me nerdy, but I love history and reading about how cultures have grown and changed. Reading this book is even more fun because the previous student who owned it highlighted important passages and scribbled tiny notes in it.
3. The Wordsworth Handbook of Kings & Queens: A Chronological Guide to the Great Dynasties of the World, by John E. Morby
This book covers every king and queen and illegitimate son and/or daughter and prince and princess from every nation up until 1989. IT IS AWESOME. I love looking at all of the interesting names. For example: Egbert, King of Wessex from 802-839. Hattushili II, King of the Hittites from 1380-1358. Hsiao Chuang Ti, Emperor of the Northern Wei Dynasty from 528-530. This book has even helped me on reports for school.
My Surgery
Last Wednesday I had surgery.
I arrived at the hospital at eight o' clock, anxious but not scared. I've had two surgeries before this one, so what happens in pre-op is familiar. It's just the pre-surgery butterflies that always get me.
After two hours of waiting and much paperwork later, I started the long check list of things to do before a surgery.
Pregnancy test, check. (Hospitals MUST have this, regardles of what you say.)
IV inserted, check.
Meeting with anesthesiologist, check.
Meeting with operation room nurses, check. Actually, my one nurse, Julie, remembered me from my surgery in seventh grade. Her kindness made everything better.
Pre-operation "cocktail" of pain medication taken, check.
Funny hair net placed on head, check.
(I've missed some things, I know it!)
After that I say goodbye to my mom and dad and they leave.
Something I really find heartening is that the anesthesiologist and anesthesilogist-nurse, and my O.R. nurse, and another nurse/doctor who is a back-up to my real doctor, all walk with me to the operating room while I'm being wheeled along on this traveling hospital bed. They are all chatting and trying to make me laugh to distract me from my nerves. I really love them all and I don't even know them.
So in the OR they lifted me from the wheely bed to the operating bed. Then they started anesthesia.
After that everything went black and I took a little nap while my doctor removed my knee cap and did some drilling and cartilage-adding.
Then I woke up an hour and a half later.
I don't react that well to anesthesia. I threw up six times. All of my lines and IV's and monitors were removed from me.
Then I was put in a wheel chair and wheeled to the family car, placed in the back seat, and taken home.
I arrived at the hospital at eight o' clock, anxious but not scared. I've had two surgeries before this one, so what happens in pre-op is familiar. It's just the pre-surgery butterflies that always get me.
After two hours of waiting and much paperwork later, I started the long check list of things to do before a surgery.
Pregnancy test, check. (Hospitals MUST have this, regardles of what you say.)
IV inserted, check.
Meeting with anesthesiologist, check.
Meeting with operation room nurses, check. Actually, my one nurse, Julie, remembered me from my surgery in seventh grade. Her kindness made everything better.
Pre-operation "cocktail" of pain medication taken, check.
Funny hair net placed on head, check.
(I've missed some things, I know it!)
After that I say goodbye to my mom and dad and they leave.
Something I really find heartening is that the anesthesiologist and anesthesilogist-nurse, and my O.R. nurse, and another nurse/doctor who is a back-up to my real doctor, all walk with me to the operating room while I'm being wheeled along on this traveling hospital bed. They are all chatting and trying to make me laugh to distract me from my nerves. I really love them all and I don't even know them.
So in the OR they lifted me from the wheely bed to the operating bed. Then they started anesthesia.
After that everything went black and I took a little nap while my doctor removed my knee cap and did some drilling and cartilage-adding.
Then I woke up an hour and a half later.
I don't react that well to anesthesia. I threw up six times. All of my lines and IV's and monitors were removed from me.
Then I was put in a wheel chair and wheeled to the family car, placed in the back seat, and taken home.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
My Poems
Senryu: A haiku with an attitude!
she sits on the edge
patiently, impatiently
of her chair, waiting
And my haiku!
shot of a bullet
a burst of wings, shrieking calls
birds take flight from trees
she sits on the edge
patiently, impatiently
of her chair, waiting
And my haiku!
shot of a bullet
a burst of wings, shrieking calls
birds take flight from trees
The Small Things that make me Smile
My parents know me too well. For my birthday both of my parents bought me glassware! You might think this odd for a seventeen year old, but I am ecstatic! See, I love tea and coffee. Tired in the morning? Pick out the perfect mug for some coffee, add cream, sugar, cinnamon, and enjoy! Want to relax after a day at school? Brew some tea leaves, poor tea into a delicate teacup, add milk, sugar, and mint leaves. Fabulous!
So for my birthday my dad bought me a 1940 Candlewick Glassware teacup, saucer, and dessert plate. If you don't know what Candlewick Glassware is I suggest you Google it. It's so delicate and beautiful and actually a classic American-made glassware. My momma bought me a coffee mug that was made in Guatemala! It's 100% Fair Trade, which means that the money paid for it will go to the actual person who made it. That person was not forced to make the mug, either. They have fair pay for fair work. This mug is a bold blue with yellow flowers in a whimsical, bohemian style. I love its message and its utility.
So there you go! My two favorite birthday gifts. They represent me and I can't wait to use them!
So for my birthday my dad bought me a 1940 Candlewick Glassware teacup, saucer, and dessert plate. If you don't know what Candlewick Glassware is I suggest you Google it. It's so delicate and beautiful and actually a classic American-made glassware. My momma bought me a coffee mug that was made in Guatemala! It's 100% Fair Trade, which means that the money paid for it will go to the actual person who made it. That person was not forced to make the mug, either. They have fair pay for fair work. This mug is a bold blue with yellow flowers in a whimsical, bohemian style. I love its message and its utility.
So there you go! My two favorite birthday gifts. They represent me and I can't wait to use them!
Time
So today, at 9:26 a.m., I turned seventeen. Seventeen! I sat in my desk at school today, making sure to glance at the clock at 9:26. I couldn't believe that I was turning 17. March 15th already? I can remember March 1st as if it were yesterday! And then I remembered a saying that my Aunt Jean used to say, which is, "The days are long, honey, but the years are short." It's so true! Every day seems like another hill to climb, but then you blink and seventeen years of your life have passed! But then I remember that each day is a gift. I think that many times I look at life as if, oh no! I only have roughly fifty years of my life left! Where has the time gone? But I have a heavenly father that has promised me that I am guaranteed an eternity of life with him. So I am seventeen today, in a few years I'll be twenty, then thirty-one, Lord willing, and on and on and on. But it's not so much about how long I live. I'll live forever praising God in a home he has provided for me in heaven. It's more like what I do while I'm living on earth that matters. In only three days, Jesus Christ took all of the sins of the world upon his shoulders and rose again from the dead after being condemned to death for sins he never committed. In that moment, the doors of mercy and grace and salvation opened. If Jesus can change the world in only three days, I can devote my next seventeen years to doing his will, not lamenting the time lost, but praising God for the time given.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
The Walking Man
The Walking Man.
Despite being a fabulous song by James Taylor, the "Walking Man" is a name I have given to a man that walks on our road every morning for brisk, physical exercise. He's around seventy years old and has been sporting the same lime green windbreaker, his favorite walking attire, since I was in kindergarten.
He's quite a memorable person in my home, particularly because my mom almost kills him every morning when we speed down our driveway in an attempt to not be late for school. Seriously, he just appears whenever our car shoots like a bullet into the road.
My mom always sees him just in time to divert an emergency room visit, though, and the man smiles and waves and, as James Taylor would sing, "The walking man walks on by."
Despite being a fabulous song by James Taylor, the "Walking Man" is a name I have given to a man that walks on our road every morning for brisk, physical exercise. He's around seventy years old and has been sporting the same lime green windbreaker, his favorite walking attire, since I was in kindergarten.
He's quite a memorable person in my home, particularly because my mom almost kills him every morning when we speed down our driveway in an attempt to not be late for school. Seriously, he just appears whenever our car shoots like a bullet into the road.
My mom always sees him just in time to divert an emergency room visit, though, and the man smiles and waves and, as James Taylor would sing, "The walking man walks on by."
My Clerihew
They banished Romeo,
From fair Verona he had to go.
For Juliet, he returned and cried,
Found her dead and committed suicide.
(Mrs. Petersheim, I'm sorry for the depressing subject. I really need to work on incorporating more happy themes into my creative writing topics. But I love Shakespeare!)
From fair Verona he had to go.
For Juliet, he returned and cried,
Found her dead and committed suicide.
(Mrs. Petersheim, I'm sorry for the depressing subject. I really need to work on incorporating more happy themes into my creative writing topics. But I love Shakespeare!)
Watching the Step Class
So I've got a knee that is partly dead. The end of my femur bone decided to die out on me. The name the doctors use is osteochondritis dissecans. To remedy the situation and decrease pain until I have a surgery, I am wearing a leg brace. I've missed gym class for the last four months.
But gym class still continues normally for the non-impaired high school girls. That's why I'm here, sitting in a YMCA gym, watching a gym class "field trip" that I can't participate in. (Side note: If some trips aren't to a field, why are they still called field trips?)
But loud, rhythmic music buffets my ears as I watch my classmates in their step class.
My classmates step, step, step... stretch, step, step, step... stretch. I still sit here on a hard, paint chipped bench with my back against a cold, white stone wall, wishing I could join in and burn some calories but grateful that I'm not sweating.
Sometimes Bekah looks over at me and laughs, and other times she's looking at the instructor in exhaustion. My other classmates have gone from high stepping to droopy, though some are standing strong. They're all sweaty messes, though, and by the end of the lesson they all look as if they've been through a war. Step, step, step, march, march, march... stretch, stretch, stretch.
But gym class still continues normally for the non-impaired high school girls. That's why I'm here, sitting in a YMCA gym, watching a gym class "field trip" that I can't participate in. (Side note: If some trips aren't to a field, why are they still called field trips?)
But loud, rhythmic music buffets my ears as I watch my classmates in their step class.
My classmates step, step, step... stretch, step, step, step... stretch. I still sit here on a hard, paint chipped bench with my back against a cold, white stone wall, wishing I could join in and burn some calories but grateful that I'm not sweating.
Sometimes Bekah looks over at me and laughs, and other times she's looking at the instructor in exhaustion. My other classmates have gone from high stepping to droopy, though some are standing strong. They're all sweaty messes, though, and by the end of the lesson they all look as if they've been through a war. Step, step, step, march, march, march... stretch, stretch, stretch.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Favorite Book Villains
Villain 1: Lord Voldemort
With red eyes, slit nostrils, and a forked tongue, Lord Voldemort is probably one of the most menacing villains. Add killing many people, a vendetta against Harry Potter, starting the First Great War and the Second Great War, Voldemort really isn't nice. In fact, he's even more villainous because Harry Potter offers him a chance to be remorseful and repent, but Voldemort never does. Then he dies.
Villain 2: Heathcliff (no surname)
Tall, dark, handsome... deplorable, scheming, gloomy, probably mad. That sums up Heathcliff. Driven mad by his love for Catherine, and angered when Catherine marries Edgar Linton, Heathcliff spends the rest of his years tormenting Catherine's daughter, Cathy, after Catherine dies giving birth. Then he dies upon the moors.
Villain 3: Smaug
Smaug is a dragon whom Bilbo and his dwarf friends must defeat to save Dale, a mining town beneath the lonely mountain in Middle Earth. Smaug is one of my top villains because he is just plain greedy. Greedy and selfish beyond belief! Not one drop of ungreedy blood in his sparkling, gem encrusted scales. Just fire and smoke and greed and a tendency to burn men, dwarves, and hobbits alive.
What's your favorite villain?!
With red eyes, slit nostrils, and a forked tongue, Lord Voldemort is probably one of the most menacing villains. Add killing many people, a vendetta against Harry Potter, starting the First Great War and the Second Great War, Voldemort really isn't nice. In fact, he's even more villainous because Harry Potter offers him a chance to be remorseful and repent, but Voldemort never does. Then he dies.
Villain 2: Heathcliff (no surname)
Tall, dark, handsome... deplorable, scheming, gloomy, probably mad. That sums up Heathcliff. Driven mad by his love for Catherine, and angered when Catherine marries Edgar Linton, Heathcliff spends the rest of his years tormenting Catherine's daughter, Cathy, after Catherine dies giving birth. Then he dies upon the moors.
Villain 3: Smaug
Smaug is a dragon whom Bilbo and his dwarf friends must defeat to save Dale, a mining town beneath the lonely mountain in Middle Earth. Smaug is one of my top villains because he is just plain greedy. Greedy and selfish beyond belief! Not one drop of ungreedy blood in his sparkling, gem encrusted scales. Just fire and smoke and greed and a tendency to burn men, dwarves, and hobbits alive.
What's your favorite villain?!
My Bucket List (so far)
These are not in any particular order.
1. Live abroad for at least a year.
2. Publish a book.
3. Live in Greenwich for 1 year, while writing the book that will be published. (see # 2)
4. Take a pilgramige across the world to the graves of my favorite authors.
5. Trace back my family's history and ancestors as far as I can.
6. Publish a second book.
7. Be a missionary to fight human trafficking.
8. Learn French and Greek.
9. Publish a third book. (Which will be the last book in my three-book series I am working on- see #s 2 and 6.)
10.Always love God and my family.
1. Live abroad for at least a year.
2. Publish a book.
3. Live in Greenwich for 1 year, while writing the book that will be published. (see # 2)
4. Take a pilgramige across the world to the graves of my favorite authors.
5. Trace back my family's history and ancestors as far as I can.
6. Publish a second book.
7. Be a missionary to fight human trafficking.
8. Learn French and Greek.
9. Publish a third book. (Which will be the last book in my three-book series I am working on- see #s 2 and 6.)
10.Always love God and my family.
The Woman in Black
"During afternoon tea, there's a shift in the air.
A bone trembling shill that tells you she's there.
There are some that believe the whole town is cursed,
But the house in the marsh is by far the worst.
What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back.
The specter of darkness, the woman in black."
-The Woman in Black (anonymous)
So this poem corresponds with a Victorian-era, classic ghost story (written by Susan Hill) that was turned into a movie. I saw this ghost movie on February 3rd, with Rebekah, Emily, and my momma. It was a fantastic, NO gore or blood, jump-in-your-seat-and-scream-then-laugh ghost movie.
Quick plot summary: Arthur Kipps, young lawyer, goes to collect a will from an old manor called "Eel Marsh House". This manor sits at the end of a long road that stretches into the marshes, but each afternoon, the tide washes up, secluding the house from all. Arthur reaches house, tide comes in, and the games begin. It turns out that the ghost of a vengeful young woman, Jeanette Humphrey, haunts the house and town. Frights galore!
So on the way home from the movie, terrified out of my first-scary-movie-experience mind, my mom decides to leave the highway to drive home on a "back road that will get us home faster". Turns out that, for the next twenty minutes, our car winds and turns down a twisting, dark, scary, tree-lined, gloomy, forlorn back road.
Every time the headlights flashed across a grove of trees I was certain I saw the ghost of the woman in black. So did Bekah and Em.
The car ride didn't improve as we kept driving. Instead, we reached the end of a long turn to see a scary sight. An old white house, windows black, abandoned, with a sign beside it: DEAD END.
Jeepers creepers. My mom turned that car around so fast I held onto Bekah's arm. A little speeding later and we were back on the highway, comforted by the bright lights.
I still don't know if my mom planned that to play with our already hyped up, scared mind, but it worked. However, my sister was the one who didn't sleep that night. According to Bekah, Bekah "slept like a baby". I did get to sleep, but only after building a pillow fort around me.
DEAD END. Um, I mean... THE END.
A bone trembling shill that tells you she's there.
There are some that believe the whole town is cursed,
But the house in the marsh is by far the worst.
What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back.
The specter of darkness, the woman in black."
-The Woman in Black (anonymous)
So this poem corresponds with a Victorian-era, classic ghost story (written by Susan Hill) that was turned into a movie. I saw this ghost movie on February 3rd, with Rebekah, Emily, and my momma. It was a fantastic, NO gore or blood, jump-in-your-seat-and-scream-then-laugh ghost movie.
Quick plot summary: Arthur Kipps, young lawyer, goes to collect a will from an old manor called "Eel Marsh House". This manor sits at the end of a long road that stretches into the marshes, but each afternoon, the tide washes up, secluding the house from all. Arthur reaches house, tide comes in, and the games begin. It turns out that the ghost of a vengeful young woman, Jeanette Humphrey, haunts the house and town. Frights galore!
So on the way home from the movie, terrified out of my first-scary-movie-experience mind, my mom decides to leave the highway to drive home on a "back road that will get us home faster". Turns out that, for the next twenty minutes, our car winds and turns down a twisting, dark, scary, tree-lined, gloomy, forlorn back road.
Every time the headlights flashed across a grove of trees I was certain I saw the ghost of the woman in black. So did Bekah and Em.
The car ride didn't improve as we kept driving. Instead, we reached the end of a long turn to see a scary sight. An old white house, windows black, abandoned, with a sign beside it: DEAD END.
Jeepers creepers. My mom turned that car around so fast I held onto Bekah's arm. A little speeding later and we were back on the highway, comforted by the bright lights.
I still don't know if my mom planned that to play with our already hyped up, scared mind, but it worked. However, my sister was the one who didn't sleep that night. According to Bekah, Bekah "slept like a baby". I did get to sleep, but only after building a pillow fort around me.
DEAD END. Um, I mean... THE END.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
I Need Sleep
I can be very stubborn. As my momma always says, "Nothing on this whole wide earth could move you, Abby, when you get your mind made up." But I guess in my recent past I decided not to get to sleep at a proper hour. Maybe not so recent. I admit it, momma! I haven't listened to you since I was twelve years old! I've stayed up and disregarded your "get to bed" rules! I'm sorry!
I need sleep. Sleep. That precious thing that I just can't seem to do. Maybe I am stubborn and stay up reading and writing and watching TV. Maybe I once thought that five hours of sleep each night was enough. But I'm starting to suffer from the effects of lacking sleep.
And I need to develop good habits for the rest of my life. If I'm only getting five to seven hours of sleep now, what will I be getting in college?! I don't even want to think about it. I've got shadowy bags under my eyes, I about drop off each day listening to chemistry lectures, and instead of thinking I need sleep, I just grab coffee! What's wrong with me?!
So this is my official proclamation to get more sleep. No more stubbornness. No more, "Mommy, I'll sleep tonight. I promise," and then staying up until 12:30. It's time to take my health more seriously.
So it's 10:26 right now. Off to bed. And tomorrow, I'll pair down to 10:00. Wish me luck!
I need sleep. Sleep. That precious thing that I just can't seem to do. Maybe I am stubborn and stay up reading and writing and watching TV. Maybe I once thought that five hours of sleep each night was enough. But I'm starting to suffer from the effects of lacking sleep.
And I need to develop good habits for the rest of my life. If I'm only getting five to seven hours of sleep now, what will I be getting in college?! I don't even want to think about it. I've got shadowy bags under my eyes, I about drop off each day listening to chemistry lectures, and instead of thinking I need sleep, I just grab coffee! What's wrong with me?!
So this is my official proclamation to get more sleep. No more stubbornness. No more, "Mommy, I'll sleep tonight. I promise," and then staying up until 12:30. It's time to take my health more seriously.
So it's 10:26 right now. Off to bed. And tomorrow, I'll pair down to 10:00. Wish me luck!
Limericks, Limericks, Limericks!
There once was a turtle from Paraguay.
He wanted to know how to fly one day.
So he ran for the ledge,
And jumped off the edge,
That turtle who was from Paraguay.
There once was a lady who wore many pearls,
Her hair was in curls, and she loved dancing twirls.
But as she danced her foot slipped
And, shrieking, she tripped,
That lady who wore many pearls.
I just love writing limericks!
He wanted to know how to fly one day.
So he ran for the ledge,
And jumped off the edge,
That turtle who was from Paraguay.
There once was a lady who wore many pearls,
Her hair was in curls, and she loved dancing twirls.
But as she danced her foot slipped
And, shrieking, she tripped,
That lady who wore many pearls.
I just love writing limericks!
Packing for a Trip
This is me, talking to myself:
Come on, Abigail, focus. It's six o' clock in the morning. You've got two hours before Daddy loads up the Toyota Rav 4 and we head to the beach. You've got to finish packing. What do you have packed so far? Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Okay, let's begin. Bras, undies, sure... that's the normal. Now bathing suits, socks, jeans, shorts, jean shorts, tanks, T-shirts, one sweatshirt, beach dress, campfire dress, and, um, hmmm..... more underwear! You can never have enough underwear, Abigail.
Now, just a little makeup, moisturizer, toiletries, shampoo... oh, and a brush, a toothbrush, ugh! This list is too long! Next year, Abigail, you're going to "rough it" at the beach. One piece per type of clothing and one zip-lock bag of toiletries.
My goodness, is Daddy calling already?! Of course, he would want to pack up the car earlier than we agreed upon. Men on a mission... dangerous. So, I-pod, check. Books, check. Sketch pad, check. One more pair of underwear, check. My sanity, check.
Now let's get all this stuff to the car. Wow, this is heavy. Really heavy. You're a girl, Abigail, you can handle it. Ugh... so heavy. You'll need back surgery by age twenty, probably.
Alright, suitcase in the car, check. Purse in the car, check. Toiletry bag in the car, check. Bag for extras in the car, check. And Daddy thought you took too many bags? Ha! You paired it down to four this year! Congratulations... now let the games begin.
Ready for one crazy week at the beach!
Come on, Abigail, focus. It's six o' clock in the morning. You've got two hours before Daddy loads up the Toyota Rav 4 and we head to the beach. You've got to finish packing. What do you have packed so far? Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Okay, let's begin. Bras, undies, sure... that's the normal. Now bathing suits, socks, jeans, shorts, jean shorts, tanks, T-shirts, one sweatshirt, beach dress, campfire dress, and, um, hmmm..... more underwear! You can never have enough underwear, Abigail.
Now, just a little makeup, moisturizer, toiletries, shampoo... oh, and a brush, a toothbrush, ugh! This list is too long! Next year, Abigail, you're going to "rough it" at the beach. One piece per type of clothing and one zip-lock bag of toiletries.
My goodness, is Daddy calling already?! Of course, he would want to pack up the car earlier than we agreed upon. Men on a mission... dangerous. So, I-pod, check. Books, check. Sketch pad, check. One more pair of underwear, check. My sanity, check.
Now let's get all this stuff to the car. Wow, this is heavy. Really heavy. You're a girl, Abigail, you can handle it. Ugh... so heavy. You'll need back surgery by age twenty, probably.
Alright, suitcase in the car, check. Purse in the car, check. Toiletry bag in the car, check. Bag for extras in the car, check. And Daddy thought you took too many bags? Ha! You paired it down to four this year! Congratulations... now let the games begin.
Ready for one crazy week at the beach!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Eating Chocolate is Dangerous
When I think of risk taking, many things come to mind: sky diving, swimming with sharks, running across a street in New York City, you know... risky things. But something I've come to realize is that those little chocolate boxes filled with chocolate covered mysteries are also dangerous. You bite into one hoping for some almonds or peanut butter and you get strangely mysterious sticky cream that should be nougat but is instead rather dubious. You run to the trash can and spit it out rather ungracefully, promising yourself that you will never again be drawn in by the inexpensive chocolate boxes and their temptations. Five minutes later, however, and you bite once more into a chocolate. Is this a coconut cluster? Or, um... well, your not sure what this one is, but it's good, so...
I experienced this on Valentine's Day. My mom and I think it's funny to bite into a chocolate to find out what's inside without looking at the little code card that explains what's nougat and what's mint filled. We laugh and make weird faces and run to the trash can when we get a chocolate that's not to be trusted. We then bemoan eating chocolate because of the calories, but five minutes later... we take a bite of another piece, laughing when I get the chocolate covered cherry. So much fun!
I experienced this on Valentine's Day. My mom and I think it's funny to bite into a chocolate to find out what's inside without looking at the little code card that explains what's nougat and what's mint filled. We laugh and make weird faces and run to the trash can when we get a chocolate that's not to be trusted. We then bemoan eating chocolate because of the calories, but five minutes later... we take a bite of another piece, laughing when I get the chocolate covered cherry. So much fun!
Five Metaphors that Describe my Life
The books lining library shelves remind me of the opportunities I will have in my life: There are so many to pick but I can only choose a few.
Freedom is comparible to running from the school building, cheering, on the first day of summer.
Writing feels like I am talking to a friend who loves to listen.
Taking a chemistry test can sometimes feel like jumping off a high dive without knowing whether there's water in the pool.
Spending time with my family brings me joy and a glimpse of the love that God has for his children.
Freedom is comparible to running from the school building, cheering, on the first day of summer.
Writing feels like I am talking to a friend who loves to listen.
Taking a chemistry test can sometimes feel like jumping off a high dive without knowing whether there's water in the pool.
Spending time with my family brings me joy and a glimpse of the love that God has for his children.
Snowy Days
I just cannot understand our weather right now. We are in the middle of February! Where is the snow? Why is it so sunny? Where are those really cold days when you pile on the sweaters, mittens, and hats and count down the seconds until you can get back home, have some coffee, and relax.
Don't get me wrong. I love summer, and fall, and spring is really rainy but just as great. But winter! I love the beautiful snow and crystralized tree branches. Ice hangs off our porch railing like tiny diamonds and I enjoy just staying indoors, keeping warm and watching snow fall. And perhaps, just maybe... having some snow days.
Summer is so hot and sticky and buggy. I really enjoy the winter snow and the refreshing chill of stepping outside in the morning before school to a light snow fall.
The downsides: scraping ice off your car windows, pipes freezing, sprinkling salt, chapped hands, and house heating malfunctions. But positives for me: hot beverages are so much better, covering up with warms blankets at the kitchen table is absolutely acceptable, snow days, reading books in front of windows while watching falling snow is fantastic, and staying at home when it's cold gives you time to watch movies or spend time with family. I think summers at my house tend to separate us more, with everyone going separate ways. But time slows down in the winter. So please, God, send some snow!
Don't get me wrong. I love summer, and fall, and spring is really rainy but just as great. But winter! I love the beautiful snow and crystralized tree branches. Ice hangs off our porch railing like tiny diamonds and I enjoy just staying indoors, keeping warm and watching snow fall. And perhaps, just maybe... having some snow days.
Summer is so hot and sticky and buggy. I really enjoy the winter snow and the refreshing chill of stepping outside in the morning before school to a light snow fall.
The downsides: scraping ice off your car windows, pipes freezing, sprinkling salt, chapped hands, and house heating malfunctions. But positives for me: hot beverages are so much better, covering up with warms blankets at the kitchen table is absolutely acceptable, snow days, reading books in front of windows while watching falling snow is fantastic, and staying at home when it's cold gives you time to watch movies or spend time with family. I think summers at my house tend to separate us more, with everyone going separate ways. But time slows down in the winter. So please, God, send some snow!
Thursday, February 9, 2012
A Positive Change in the Past Year: A Free Verse Poem
My story I write.
Whispers of creation
Envelop me.
Scratch of pencil across lined
White paper.
Flutter of papers,
Wings with words.
Hopefully they will fly
Across my future.
Paper absorbs my thoughts,
My dreams,
My imagination,
My story I write.
(The positive change I have had this past year continues to be an ongoing one. I am writing a story that I hope will be published one day. This past year I have spent the most time writing it. I pour myself into the work, taking more time to work on it than ever before. Writing is what I love, and it positively affects me because it lets me put on paper the thoughts that float around in my head. Life becomes clearer to me when I write. When I look back on what I've written, I can see what I've done, the mood I was in, and the joy that writing brings me!)
Whispers of creation
Envelop me.
Scratch of pencil across lined
White paper.
Flutter of papers,
Wings with words.
Hopefully they will fly
Across my future.
Paper absorbs my thoughts,
My dreams,
My imagination,
My story I write.
(The positive change I have had this past year continues to be an ongoing one. I am writing a story that I hope will be published one day. This past year I have spent the most time writing it. I pour myself into the work, taking more time to work on it than ever before. Writing is what I love, and it positively affects me because it lets me put on paper the thoughts that float around in my head. Life becomes clearer to me when I write. When I look back on what I've written, I can see what I've done, the mood I was in, and the joy that writing brings me!)
A Call from a Distressed Friend
Ring, ring, ring.... ring, ring, ring...
"Hello?"
"Abigail! Ugh, thanks for picking up. It's Bekah."
"Yeah, I know! So what's u..."
"I'm in a quagmire! A QUAGMIRE!"
"Is everything okay? Wha..."
"Which book do I read for Honors class? I mean, if we need to write a literary analysis paper I want to enjoy the book..."
"Bekah, I know exactly what you mean!"
"Where are you?"
"Standing in front of my bookshelf."
"Me, too!"
"Bekah, what books were you thinking about?"
"Well I've got The Girl With the Pearl Earring, Of Mice and Men, Cannery Row, Year of Wonders, The Crucible, Hamlet... oh crap, I just tore the cover of Hamlet!"
"That's okay, you can borrow mine, but..."
"Abigail, what do I do?!"
"I don't know..."
"What did you choose?"
"That's kind of funny, Bekah, because, ah... I've got Dracula, Frankenstein, The Bell Jar, The Sea Runners, The Count of Monte Cristo, Murder on the Orient Express, and Of Mice and Men, too!"
"So many good books... what're we going to do?!"
"Alright, Bekah, here's what we're going to do. Let's limit our choices to three books. When we go to Honors class tomorrow we'll look at Mr. Garner's face when we hold up each book. If he looks like he disaproves..."
"That'll tick off one choice!"
"Right. May the best book win."
"Great plan. But, ah, Abigail?"
"Yeah?"
"How do we choose only three books?!"
(This was an actual conversation that took place. No joke. Just a few changed words here and there, but... this is an example of the trials and tribulations of a bibliophile!)
"Hello?"
"Abigail! Ugh, thanks for picking up. It's Bekah."
"Yeah, I know! So what's u..."
"I'm in a quagmire! A QUAGMIRE!"
"Is everything okay? Wha..."
"Which book do I read for Honors class? I mean, if we need to write a literary analysis paper I want to enjoy the book..."
"Bekah, I know exactly what you mean!"
"Where are you?"
"Standing in front of my bookshelf."
"Me, too!"
"Bekah, what books were you thinking about?"
"Well I've got The Girl With the Pearl Earring, Of Mice and Men, Cannery Row, Year of Wonders, The Crucible, Hamlet... oh crap, I just tore the cover of Hamlet!"
"That's okay, you can borrow mine, but..."
"Abigail, what do I do?!"
"I don't know..."
"What did you choose?"
"That's kind of funny, Bekah, because, ah... I've got Dracula, Frankenstein, The Bell Jar, The Sea Runners, The Count of Monte Cristo, Murder on the Orient Express, and Of Mice and Men, too!"
"So many good books... what're we going to do?!"
"Alright, Bekah, here's what we're going to do. Let's limit our choices to three books. When we go to Honors class tomorrow we'll look at Mr. Garner's face when we hold up each book. If he looks like he disaproves..."
"That'll tick off one choice!"
"Right. May the best book win."
"Great plan. But, ah, Abigail?"
"Yeah?"
"How do we choose only three books?!"
(This was an actual conversation that took place. No joke. Just a few changed words here and there, but... this is an example of the trials and tribulations of a bibliophile!)
Music
One of my favorite blessings in my life is music. I've come to realize just how much I love it. When I think about how much I listen to music, I am reminded of how much time David in the Bible spent composing and singing music. He was drawn to it. He felt in the presense of God when he sang. Most of the chapters in Psalms are his compositions.
But something that interests me is what his psalms and music actually contain. They aren't just about praises or love or joy. They are also about pain and loss and confusion.
For example, let's look at two different verses.
Psalm 66: 1 to 3 says, "Make a joyful shout to God, all the earth! Sing out the honor of His name; Make His praise glorious. Say to God, "How awesome are Your works! Through the greatness of Your power Your enemies shall submit themselves to You."
I can just picture David lifting his hands to the sky and singing, his smiling face turned golden in the sunlight.
But then listen to this verse: Psalm 13:1 says, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, Having sorrow in my heart daily? How long will my enemy be exalted over me?"
Wow. I can imagine David, sitting under the shade of long, sweeping tree branches, crying and pouring his heart out to God in the form of a song.
Music touches our lives in so many ways. It is a form of communication between our heart and God's heart. It also brings people together. Secular music, Christian music, and instrumental music can be good. But I always remember that the music I let fill my ears eventually makes its way to my heart.
But something that interests me is what his psalms and music actually contain. They aren't just about praises or love or joy. They are also about pain and loss and confusion.
For example, let's look at two different verses.
Psalm 66: 1 to 3 says, "Make a joyful shout to God, all the earth! Sing out the honor of His name; Make His praise glorious. Say to God, "How awesome are Your works! Through the greatness of Your power Your enemies shall submit themselves to You."
I can just picture David lifting his hands to the sky and singing, his smiling face turned golden in the sunlight.
But then listen to this verse: Psalm 13:1 says, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, Having sorrow in my heart daily? How long will my enemy be exalted over me?"
Wow. I can imagine David, sitting under the shade of long, sweeping tree branches, crying and pouring his heart out to God in the form of a song.
Music touches our lives in so many ways. It is a form of communication between our heart and God's heart. It also brings people together. Secular music, Christian music, and instrumental music can be good. But I always remember that the music I let fill my ears eventually makes its way to my heart.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
The All-Nighter at Church, Lock-Down Style
Last year I participated in my youth group's all-nighter at church. It was around forty girls and boys in grades seven to twelve (plus around five youth group leaders), running around wild, locked in a church, intent upon staying up all night. It was fabulous! First we went bowling and had dinner, then after picking up some coffee, engergy drinks, and sugary snacks, we arrived at the church and were locked in.
My favorite thing we did that night was play the game "Underground Church". If you've never played it, I'll explain the game.
Our church's setting was a "foreign country". All of the youth group students were "persecuted Christians". The youth leaders were "the bad guys that catch the Christians". We had a jail located at the center of the church. The sanctuary was off-limits (actually, if you were too tired to stay up all night, they let you sleep in the sanctuary). The game started by giving everyone ten minutes to hide wherever they wanted to in the church, except room that were previously locked. When the lights went off, the "bad guys" searched through the complete darkness to find the "persecuted Christians". If you got caught you were taken to jail. You could be freed if no "bad guys" were watching the jail and a friend tagged you to escape.
Let me tell you... it was intense! I had very close calls to being captured, and some heart pumping moments when I attempted escape. I even was the last one to be caught once, which meant that I won! It was scary, running around in the dark, not knowing who you would bump into or if they were the "bad guys" or "fellow Christians".
After the game, which lasted at least four hours, many of us collapsed in a long hallway with blankets to tell stories. Some people watched movies or played video games upstairs. I played Apples to Apples with a bunch of friends. When our parents arrived the next morning, they met some very tired, blurry eyed, loopy teenagers.
It was one of my most favorite experiences being "locked in"!
My favorite thing we did that night was play the game "Underground Church". If you've never played it, I'll explain the game.
Our church's setting was a "foreign country". All of the youth group students were "persecuted Christians". The youth leaders were "the bad guys that catch the Christians". We had a jail located at the center of the church. The sanctuary was off-limits (actually, if you were too tired to stay up all night, they let you sleep in the sanctuary). The game started by giving everyone ten minutes to hide wherever they wanted to in the church, except room that were previously locked. When the lights went off, the "bad guys" searched through the complete darkness to find the "persecuted Christians". If you got caught you were taken to jail. You could be freed if no "bad guys" were watching the jail and a friend tagged you to escape.
Let me tell you... it was intense! I had very close calls to being captured, and some heart pumping moments when I attempted escape. I even was the last one to be caught once, which meant that I won! It was scary, running around in the dark, not knowing who you would bump into or if they were the "bad guys" or "fellow Christians".
After the game, which lasted at least four hours, many of us collapsed in a long hallway with blankets to tell stories. Some people watched movies or played video games upstairs. I played Apples to Apples with a bunch of friends. When our parents arrived the next morning, they met some very tired, blurry eyed, loopy teenagers.
It was one of my most favorite experiences being "locked in"!
Life's A Cup of Coffee
"Life's a Cup of Coffee," said my dad, as he stood, steaming coffee cup in hand, leaning against the kitchen counter.
I watched him walk away and contemplated his meaning, trying to fit the crazy, insane, sad, and completely wonderful thing we call life into an analogy with a cup of coffee.
Life, birth, death.
Coffee.
Not much to compare, right? But as I walked over to make my own self a cup of coffee, I thought about it some more. Coffee starts as a really plain, brown bean. Then it's harvested and sent to the USA to be brewed into the coffee we drink. We come into this world as a baby in a womb. We aren't really physically different, because, well, we're developing in a womb. But when we come out of the womb, we grow and change and develop features unique to each of us. Both the coffee bean and the baby will later become something impressive.
Coffee is flavorful. Life is flavorful! But you can have bitter coffee. And life can be bitter. We drink instant coffee sometimes, when we're rushed or camping or coffee is too expensive to buy. And sometimes in life we are short-changed. We don't get the full, freshly brewed cup we want, or the ideal cream, sugar, and designer Starbucks' cup. We get instant coffee. People give us the "short end of the stick" and we feel like we deserve more.
But then I think about my days when I get home from school or when I'm sad or when it's cold outside. I grab a book, a blanket, and a steaming cup of coffee. Why? Because coffee is comforting. It's warm and safe and a little something special. And life offers things that are safe and special: family, God, friends, knowing you have a house or a meal or simply a cup of water.
So maybe my dad's right. Even if it is far fetched, I can still see how life's a cup of coffee.
I watched him walk away and contemplated his meaning, trying to fit the crazy, insane, sad, and completely wonderful thing we call life into an analogy with a cup of coffee.
Life, birth, death.
Coffee.
Not much to compare, right? But as I walked over to make my own self a cup of coffee, I thought about it some more. Coffee starts as a really plain, brown bean. Then it's harvested and sent to the USA to be brewed into the coffee we drink. We come into this world as a baby in a womb. We aren't really physically different, because, well, we're developing in a womb. But when we come out of the womb, we grow and change and develop features unique to each of us. Both the coffee bean and the baby will later become something impressive.
Coffee is flavorful. Life is flavorful! But you can have bitter coffee. And life can be bitter. We drink instant coffee sometimes, when we're rushed or camping or coffee is too expensive to buy. And sometimes in life we are short-changed. We don't get the full, freshly brewed cup we want, or the ideal cream, sugar, and designer Starbucks' cup. We get instant coffee. People give us the "short end of the stick" and we feel like we deserve more.
But then I think about my days when I get home from school or when I'm sad or when it's cold outside. I grab a book, a blanket, and a steaming cup of coffee. Why? Because coffee is comforting. It's warm and safe and a little something special. And life offers things that are safe and special: family, God, friends, knowing you have a house or a meal or simply a cup of water.
So maybe my dad's right. Even if it is far fetched, I can still see how life's a cup of coffee.
Reading Shakespeare
Something I've come to enjoy very much is Shakespeare: his plays, his sonnets, and even him! (Well I don't know him personally, but I've written several reports on him. That has to count for something.)
That being said, I haven't read nearly enough of his work to satisfy my love for it. (Although I have read all 154 sonnets.) My favorite of his plays is Hamlet. I love picking out certain lines that I enjoy. The language is so beautiful, and in today's culture it's hard to imagine people talking like they used to. Take a few of these lines, for example:
"This above all: To thine own self be true." (From Hamlet) We say: Do what you want.
"Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure." (From, you guessed it... Macbeth!) We say: Is it cool if I stay with you?
"Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes." (From Romeo and Juliet) We say: Her eyes are shiny.
I personally believe that, although Shakespeare is beautiful when read silently, it is best experienced and written to be read aloud. It was made, after all, for the stage. I actually understand Shakespeare more when I hear it read aloud.
So here's a secret: Sometimes, when I'm alone at home, I'll read Shakespeare aloud in different voices for different characters. I'll wave my hands, gesture, fake sword fight. I've dueled with Mercutio and Tybalt and Romeo. I've climbed a balcony and stabbed Julius Caeasar and argued with Beatrice. Shakespeare was written to be performed and I've enjoyed every moment of reading it!
That being said, I haven't read nearly enough of his work to satisfy my love for it. (Although I have read all 154 sonnets.) My favorite of his plays is Hamlet. I love picking out certain lines that I enjoy. The language is so beautiful, and in today's culture it's hard to imagine people talking like they used to. Take a few of these lines, for example:
"This above all: To thine own self be true." (From Hamlet) We say: Do what you want.
"Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure." (From, you guessed it... Macbeth!) We say: Is it cool if I stay with you?
"Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes." (From Romeo and Juliet) We say: Her eyes are shiny.
I personally believe that, although Shakespeare is beautiful when read silently, it is best experienced and written to be read aloud. It was made, after all, for the stage. I actually understand Shakespeare more when I hear it read aloud.
So here's a secret: Sometimes, when I'm alone at home, I'll read Shakespeare aloud in different voices for different characters. I'll wave my hands, gesture, fake sword fight. I've dueled with Mercutio and Tybalt and Romeo. I've climbed a balcony and stabbed Julius Caeasar and argued with Beatrice. Shakespeare was written to be performed and I've enjoyed every moment of reading it!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Free Verse Poem about a Person
Sometimes I wonder
Why you chose to leave
And then I quietly
Whisper
You might not have wanted to go
But God chose to take you home.
I have to be okay with that,
Even if it's difficult
To understand.
You had bright eyes
Courage and strength
Stronger than me.
It hurts that you're no longer
Here to share
That love you had
That lovely compassion
With the world.
But I believe
Firmly, truly
That right now, in bright light
Surrounded by the glow
And flutter of white wings,
You share that lovely compassion
With heaven.
(Dedicated to my Aunt.)
Why you chose to leave
And then I quietly
Whisper
You might not have wanted to go
But God chose to take you home.
I have to be okay with that,
Even if it's difficult
To understand.
You had bright eyes
Courage and strength
Stronger than me.
It hurts that you're no longer
Here to share
That love you had
That lovely compassion
With the world.
But I believe
Firmly, truly
That right now, in bright light
Surrounded by the glow
And flutter of white wings,
You share that lovely compassion
With heaven.
(Dedicated to my Aunt.)
Jane Austen Books
My momma recently purchased a copy of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen for me. You can imagine what happened. She brought it home for me, placed it in my hands, and I fell over.... Okay, maybe I didn't fall over. But I was overjoyed.
This copy is actually an annotated copy, so the story is on the left hand page, and notes and pictures are on the right hand page. I've learned that twelve pence make a shilling, and twenty shillings make a pound! I've seen a picture of a barouche, which I would never have known what it looked like otherwise. If you're wondering, Edward Ferrars' mom wishes him to drive a barouche in the book. It's like a fancy carriage.
I just love Jane Austen books! (Okay Rebekah, if you read this... I know we are in a battle over whose better: Jane Austen or Charles Dickens, and I know you're winning with Jane Austen. I'll give you the fact that Jane Austen is awesome, but against Charles Dickens...)
I enjoy reading Jane Austen books while sipping tea. Good 'ole English breakfast black tea with some sugar and milk, served in a teacup, from a teapot, with a saucer and tea cookies (buscuits). Yes, it sounds rather extravagant. But if I have time I do go through the entire proper teapot process. Boiling water into the pot, for the pot. Swish water around and empty pot. Add one scoop looseleaf tea for each person drinking, and then one scoop for the pot. Add boiling water. Let brew. And one cup of fabulous tea awaits, even better with a friend!
I think I just love the culture of the Jane Austen books. Nineteenth century England, the vast countryside, the gossipy women whom the heroine sees right through, the drama which is always sorted out in the end, the lovely settings, the houses, the characters (Mr. Darcy)... I love all of it! I even love the language. (The words like felicity and mirth and Avignon!)
So go get a Jane Austen book! I hope you enjoy it. I know I do.
This copy is actually an annotated copy, so the story is on the left hand page, and notes and pictures are on the right hand page. I've learned that twelve pence make a shilling, and twenty shillings make a pound! I've seen a picture of a barouche, which I would never have known what it looked like otherwise. If you're wondering, Edward Ferrars' mom wishes him to drive a barouche in the book. It's like a fancy carriage.
I just love Jane Austen books! (Okay Rebekah, if you read this... I know we are in a battle over whose better: Jane Austen or Charles Dickens, and I know you're winning with Jane Austen. I'll give you the fact that Jane Austen is awesome, but against Charles Dickens...)
I enjoy reading Jane Austen books while sipping tea. Good 'ole English breakfast black tea with some sugar and milk, served in a teacup, from a teapot, with a saucer and tea cookies (buscuits). Yes, it sounds rather extravagant. But if I have time I do go through the entire proper teapot process. Boiling water into the pot, for the pot. Swish water around and empty pot. Add one scoop looseleaf tea for each person drinking, and then one scoop for the pot. Add boiling water. Let brew. And one cup of fabulous tea awaits, even better with a friend!
I think I just love the culture of the Jane Austen books. Nineteenth century England, the vast countryside, the gossipy women whom the heroine sees right through, the drama which is always sorted out in the end, the lovely settings, the houses, the characters (Mr. Darcy)... I love all of it! I even love the language. (The words like felicity and mirth and Avignon!)
So go get a Jane Austen book! I hope you enjoy it. I know I do.
Oceans of Emotions (A Free Verse Poem that Rhymes?!)
Emotions are
Like the ocean
Always flowing
Never ceasing
Churning
Tossing
Powerful as a wave
Anger
Fear
Jealously
Yet gentle enough to lap at the shore
Peace
Joy
Compassion
The ocean
Like emotions
Carry ships
Carry dreams
Dreams that always
Flow and ebb
Touch the shore
Touch your mind
Forevermore
Like the ocean
Always flowing
Never ceasing
Churning
Tossing
Powerful as a wave
Anger
Fear
Jealously
Yet gentle enough to lap at the shore
Peace
Joy
Compassion
The ocean
Like emotions
Carry ships
Carry dreams
Dreams that always
Flow and ebb
Touch the shore
Touch your mind
Forevermore
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Technology
Sometimes I really don't like technology. I find it helpful, but it just isn't my favorite thing in the world. Sadly, it seems that almost everything is now geared towards technology. You can connect to your I-Phone by scanning a code. You can upload photos. Maps are becoming extinct thanks to the GPS.
Technology takes you away from those around you. The Internet has bad Web sites, people get stalked, and it is a huge time consumer. Now don't get me wrong. There are good things about the Internet, too. It's wonderful to Google anything you want and, with a click of a botton, you have knowledge! I need the computer to work on school papers and powerpoints.
But sometimes I miss the good old fashioned book. The paper and pencil homework. Writing letters! Who writes letters anymore? I wish I knew what it felt like to write a five page, cursive letter, send it off by horseman, and wait three weeks to receive the answer. (Jane Austen, anyone?!) Receiving words would be more precious that way.
I think that, like with anything, we need to use discernment with technology. What are children seeing on TV? What would God sit down and type into Google? Is it good to spend so much time infront of a screen, whether its a TV screen, computer screen, or phone screen? It's so difficult not to! Even I wish I read more. That being said, I'm now going to watch a favorite TV show. It's a vicious cycle....
Technology takes you away from those around you. The Internet has bad Web sites, people get stalked, and it is a huge time consumer. Now don't get me wrong. There are good things about the Internet, too. It's wonderful to Google anything you want and, with a click of a botton, you have knowledge! I need the computer to work on school papers and powerpoints.
But sometimes I miss the good old fashioned book. The paper and pencil homework. Writing letters! Who writes letters anymore? I wish I knew what it felt like to write a five page, cursive letter, send it off by horseman, and wait three weeks to receive the answer. (Jane Austen, anyone?!) Receiving words would be more precious that way.
I think that, like with anything, we need to use discernment with technology. What are children seeing on TV? What would God sit down and type into Google? Is it good to spend so much time infront of a screen, whether its a TV screen, computer screen, or phone screen? It's so difficult not to! Even I wish I read more. That being said, I'm now going to watch a favorite TV show. It's a vicious cycle....
Survive Being Sick
1. Let your mom make you a huge glass of orange juice and tell you everything will be okay.
2. Eat some salty crackers and have some apple sauce.
3. Take your temperature, even if you don't think your head feels hot, because when you're sick you can't make accurate decisions for yourself.
4. Bring in a truck load of soft, durable tissues.
5. Tell your friends to not call you, hide the Internet (Facebook), and grab a book with an easy to understand plot, so you can drift in and out of sleep while reading.
6. Watch your favorite movies. Like Disney movies. (Or Lord of the Rings, which is what I always end up watching when I'm "under the weather".)
7. Drink liquids and liquids and more liquids.
8. Go close your door, crawl under your covers, and sleep until you can't sleep anymore.
9. Keep any medicine you need, along with a few bottles of water, by your bed. If you wake up with a headache, your Tylenol or Advil will be right there!
10. Try not to feel guilty about taking the rest time you need. Work, school, life... those things will be there when you recover. Take some time for yourself to get better.
2. Eat some salty crackers and have some apple sauce.
3. Take your temperature, even if you don't think your head feels hot, because when you're sick you can't make accurate decisions for yourself.
4. Bring in a truck load of soft, durable tissues.
5. Tell your friends to not call you, hide the Internet (Facebook), and grab a book with an easy to understand plot, so you can drift in and out of sleep while reading.
6. Watch your favorite movies. Like Disney movies. (Or Lord of the Rings, which is what I always end up watching when I'm "under the weather".)
7. Drink liquids and liquids and more liquids.
8. Go close your door, crawl under your covers, and sleep until you can't sleep anymore.
9. Keep any medicine you need, along with a few bottles of water, by your bed. If you wake up with a headache, your Tylenol or Advil will be right there!
10. Try not to feel guilty about taking the rest time you need. Work, school, life... those things will be there when you recover. Take some time for yourself to get better.
Free Verse Poem, About Being Sick
Tired eyes, red eyes
Blinking to stay open
The teacher says,
Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four
But instead
Your head crashes
To your desk, And
you sleep.
No! your teacher cries,
You must work
But you reply,
I am sick, And
Today could I just sleep
Instead.
Alright, says the
Teacher, You must go to the nurse
First, You drag your legs,
Wearily, heavily
D
o
w
n the long hall, And
Then home.
Blinking to stay open
The teacher says,
Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four
But instead
Your head crashes
To your desk, And
you sleep.
No! your teacher cries,
You must work
But you reply,
I am sick, And
Today could I just sleep
Instead.
Alright, says the
Teacher, You must go to the nurse
First, You drag your legs,
Wearily, heavily
D
o
w
n the long hall, And
Then home.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Water
I have recently realized the joys and benefits of water. Of course, I've always had water as a part of my daily routine. However, I'd only ever drink one cup or less each day. Not really beneficial. In fact, it's actually really harmful to drink so little water. I always brushed off my mom's advice, though, and assumed I'd be okay.
I happen to drink tea like it's about to disappear and be lost forever. I thought that was giving me the nutrients that water does, but it doesn't. So recently I've started to drink water... very copious amounts of water. (This was actually my New Year's resolution, even though I was already doing it before Christmas.)
Let me tell you... it's worth it! I have a glass of water when I get up in the morning, and that gives me early energy that I didn't have before. I have water throughout the day at school to keep me awake and energized, as well. And in the evening, I try to drink a glass of water every time I pass the refrigerator.
I've noticed some changes. I have clearer skin, my hair is growing faster, and I am not so tired. (Of course, I still need a good amount of sleep, which is my next New Year's resolution.) The downside is that I frequent the bathroom quite often, which, although it rids your body of toxins, it's bad when you're in the middle of a chemistry lab or an intense discussion in history class.
I think it's important to take care of our bodies. We only get one, and I want to make sure I try my best to respect my body. (For me and for God.) If my body is healthy, I know that I can help others better than if I were feeling run down. We are blessed in our culture to have easy access to clean drinking water, so if you want a simple pick-me-up, give it a try!
I happen to drink tea like it's about to disappear and be lost forever. I thought that was giving me the nutrients that water does, but it doesn't. So recently I've started to drink water... very copious amounts of water. (This was actually my New Year's resolution, even though I was already doing it before Christmas.)
Let me tell you... it's worth it! I have a glass of water when I get up in the morning, and that gives me early energy that I didn't have before. I have water throughout the day at school to keep me awake and energized, as well. And in the evening, I try to drink a glass of water every time I pass the refrigerator.
I've noticed some changes. I have clearer skin, my hair is growing faster, and I am not so tired. (Of course, I still need a good amount of sleep, which is my next New Year's resolution.) The downside is that I frequent the bathroom quite often, which, although it rids your body of toxins, it's bad when you're in the middle of a chemistry lab or an intense discussion in history class.
I think it's important to take care of our bodies. We only get one, and I want to make sure I try my best to respect my body. (For me and for God.) If my body is healthy, I know that I can help others better than if I were feeling run down. We are blessed in our culture to have easy access to clean drinking water, so if you want a simple pick-me-up, give it a try!
Things to Know (From Those who have Learned Them)
1. Stuffing your schedule impossibly full of things to do is not a good idea. (Female, age 18)
2. God always provides. (Female, age 30)
3. Everyone is different. (Male, age 17)
4. Family first, always. (Female, 49)
5. There are consequences for every action, and those consequences will be good, bad, or neutral. (Male, 49)
6. Chocolate labs will destroy whatever they have access to! (Female, 43)
7. When in doubt, ask! (Female, 40)
8. Trying your best in school is more important than aiming for perfection. (Me)
9. Eating chocolate bars when you are stressed is acceptable if you remember to exercise later. (Me)
10. Falling in love with fictional characters can be dangerous and disappointing. (Me)
11. When your parents tell you to get plenty hours of sleep, listen. If you don't, you'll burn out fast. (Me)
12. The relationships that you form with others, and ultimately God, are the most important things in your life. (Me and another Female, age 51)
2. God always provides. (Female, age 30)
3. Everyone is different. (Male, age 17)
4. Family first, always. (Female, 49)
5. There are consequences for every action, and those consequences will be good, bad, or neutral. (Male, 49)
6. Chocolate labs will destroy whatever they have access to! (Female, 43)
7. When in doubt, ask! (Female, 40)
8. Trying your best in school is more important than aiming for perfection. (Me)
9. Eating chocolate bars when you are stressed is acceptable if you remember to exercise later. (Me)
10. Falling in love with fictional characters can be dangerous and disappointing. (Me)
11. When your parents tell you to get plenty hours of sleep, listen. If you don't, you'll burn out fast. (Me)
12. The relationships that you form with others, and ultimately God, are the most important things in your life. (Me and another Female, age 51)
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Making Decisions
I've made many decisons in my life so far. I'll wager that you have, too. Sometimes I wonder exactly how many decisions I have made. From answering questions on tests to picking a shirt to wear to deciding how to talk to someone about a loved one that is lost, all have taken much thought.
Often I ask for approval from friends before making a decision. Maybe I do this because I am afraid of what they think if my decision seems foolish. I wish I could be more assertive and not have to worry about what others think of my choices. Only God needs to be honored. And if I am honoring Him, I should be honoring others, too.
I have come to the conclusion that I make some of the most important decisions in the shower. Yup, in the shower. While washing my hair under the steamy hot water I contemplate some of life's greatest issues. When my dad makes decisions, he paces back and forth rapidly while drinking copious amounts of coffee. (The caffeine only inspires faster pacing.) This annoys my mom, who prefers sitting down and rationally drawing up a list of pros and cons. Personally, I think that they should both try my shower technique.
I try to remeber to include God in the important issues. No matter what advice the world, my friends, or my family give me, I have found God's advice to be the best, even if it seems crazy or not crazy enough. My Poppa in heaven has my best interests at heart, and even if I doubt Him sometimes, which I do, I know I need to trust Him to make the right decisions. He has promised to never let me down.
Often I ask for approval from friends before making a decision. Maybe I do this because I am afraid of what they think if my decision seems foolish. I wish I could be more assertive and not have to worry about what others think of my choices. Only God needs to be honored. And if I am honoring Him, I should be honoring others, too.
I have come to the conclusion that I make some of the most important decisions in the shower. Yup, in the shower. While washing my hair under the steamy hot water I contemplate some of life's greatest issues. When my dad makes decisions, he paces back and forth rapidly while drinking copious amounts of coffee. (The caffeine only inspires faster pacing.) This annoys my mom, who prefers sitting down and rationally drawing up a list of pros and cons. Personally, I think that they should both try my shower technique.
I try to remeber to include God in the important issues. No matter what advice the world, my friends, or my family give me, I have found God's advice to be the best, even if it seems crazy or not crazy enough. My Poppa in heaven has my best interests at heart, and even if I doubt Him sometimes, which I do, I know I need to trust Him to make the right decisions. He has promised to never let me down.
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