The Last Post (That Will be Graded)

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!

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.

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!"

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.

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.

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.)

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!

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.

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!

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.

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!

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.

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!