Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Prom

There are so many things I could be doing on this lovely, semi-cloudy afternoon. I could prep for college, reconcile my account, read, walk the dogs or study for finals. What am I doing instead?
 
 
Well, obviously.
So anyway, I've had an interesting few weeks. Prom season came and went, I was on prom court which was super fun and unexpected. I was very proud of myself.
So yeah that was pretty cool and stuff. But, let's be honest here, the best part about prom was riding in the freaking limo. First of all, everyone needs to pause and appreciate how HARD it is to book a limo one week before prom.
 
 
But I finally did it. And, let me tell you, it was totally worth it. Me and my group definitely felt like really cool people. There's nothing better than cramming ten people into a dark, narrow car and singing to Thrift Shop. It's almost as fun as...no. Nothing else compares.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Monday, January 30, 2012

My Adventures in Food and Marching


Today I looked into the empty bucket that is my life and came to the conclusion that I need to update this blog. Aside from the fact that what you just read makes no sense, (I’ve actually been quite busy. If anything, my life at present resembles a stuffed garbage can of softly rotting events.) it also means that I have finally found a nice little niche in time where I am not doing school work. Because I'm sick.

I am happy about this. In fact, I’m so happy that I will be very un-happy to be getting up at 5:00 tomorrow and going back to school. Huh. Imagine that. 

                Actually now that I think about it, it’s not just the getting up early part of school that I will be vexed at. It’s not just the homework, either. What, you may ask, might also be vexing (Oh, I just love that word; it always gives me a leg up in Scrabble games…) about school? Well, here are two things.

   1) The Commute

I. Hate. Rain. I have lived in Oregon for all my life and I still hate rain.


And cold. Yes, my hatred for frigid weather is so strong it could easily defeat Hulk Hogan, Chuck Norris AND Charlie Sheen all in one go. There is something about cold weather that I am allergic to. Literally. What this means is that every time I decide to venture outside and it’s below 45 degrees, eventually I start to shiver. No big deal right? Well how about when I break out in hundreds of quarter sized hives? Think I’m kidding? I’m not. Does this face look humorous to you?

And it isn’t even limited to weather, either. Once, I was going out for ice cream with a bunch of pals. Well, as you might have guessed, I ordered some ice cream. Anyway, I was so excited to eat something unhealthy


that I failed to notice my hands. I had been holding the ice cream cup in one hand while I used the other to shovel the food into my mouth. It took me awhile to finish this stuff- I made sure I got the proper amount of it, which in actuality means too much for a normal being. By the time I had finished eating and disposed of the remains, my fingers were swollen. I don’t mean just a little swollen, either. They were twice the size of the fingers on my other hand and I couldn’t move them. This was shocking, but also mostly entertaining to me. When I finally noticed, I took the opportunity to show everyone. But, because my fingers are normally very, very skinny nobody noticed at first. Until I gave them a comparison. Then they noticed.

So, tomorrow morning I will spend a miserable walk to school. In the cold, and likely in the rain, too. I will step out the door and mentally curse every source of natural forces I can think of before walking.


This walk, or march as I prefer to think of it as, is grueling. It spans nearly three to four minutes in length. Not only is one assaulted by the hardships of The March’s painful duration, they have to endure a hill as well. This is not a domestic hill, it is a wild and untamed mountain of dirt. When it rains, as it often does, The Hill transforms into a deadly Slip ‘N Slide of mud and terror. The marcher has no choice but pray as they painstakingly make their way down this monstrosity, trying not to slip.


Now, they will have reached the Corridor. The Corridor is an endless span of sidewalk extending through a field. This path has the unique ability to stretch itself farther and farther every day so that there is no acclimating to the trek across it. The edges of the dastardly pavement slope downward so that the whole sidewalk doubles as a perfect aqueduct and drainage system for the often flooded field.
After this, mercy: a set of five stairs, stretching on into oblivion and forcing the marcher to bend his stiff, frozen knees. Not once, but five times in order to descend this madness. The stairs are not the end of this long journey so don’t sigh with wonder just yet! In fact, what comes after the stairs is 2.7 times worse. Upon finally setting wet sneaker on consistently flat ground, you are met with an onslaught of puddles, cars and silt. You have reached the crosswalk. As noisy vehicles speed carelessly past you, you are forced to avoid the splash of water that rises to greet you each time, like an eager hellhound jumping to slobber you at the door.


By now, you cannot feel your toes and, if you were me, are covered in viciously itching red patches. Each step you take mocks your discomfort with a self-satisfied squish because your shoes and socks are soaked through. It pains me to write this- even now my eyes fill with bitter tears of remembrance and my body tenses with the familiar sense of inevitability. I am doomed to this fate and so are all those poor souls who brave The March with me. Feel sorry for us.

2)     The Inconveniences of Learning.
Don’t get me wrong here, I love learning. And I love and respect all of my teachers. I have nothing bad to say about any of them this year. Granted, in past years (sophomore and freshman) I have had the misfortune of attending classes with teachers I genuinely did not like. But look to the future and present! I enjoy all of my teachers and so what follows is a senseless attempt at satire on my part because I’m self-centered and think I’m actually funny.
After nearly three years of High School I have discovered the Inconveniences of Learning and they are these….

The Curriculum Conspiracy 
There are actually a few of these. I feel it my duty to strip away the layers of deceit our academic instructors have so carefully placed over our awareness and let some light on this shining wound of conspiracy. 
I have thought about this for a long time and have decided that teachers stalk each of their students, calculate which week of their life will be the busiest, collaborate with all the other teachers and then get all involved to assign their biggest projects during that week.

 There is no other explanation for it. In order to avoid this, students have no other option but to keep quiet about their personal life during class for fear of helping along this devious plan. Thusly, we are kept quiet during school hours. They’ve really got us hooked on this one! It’s a win-win situation for them, see? So, how do we teenagers, known for our surly attitudes and conforming through non-conformism, rebel against this? In short, I’ve no idea.
Also, this came to my attention not one month ago while discussing literature in English class. We have read two books considered by many to be ideal representations of classical work: The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne and The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. These were both good books in my opinion but something interesting occurred to me. If these are classic books, we are encouraged by our teachers to emulate the artful writing style in which they were…written. Are we not? In fact, we are not! If I were to write a sentence in the style of Nate Hawthorne, for instance I’d come up with something like this:
Nathaniel Hawthorne uses his characters’ reactions toward their sins to outline their futures, ultimately revealing that the more one embraces sin, the darker their eventual fate becomes, with Hester Prynne’s sin, dark as it was, in fact, darker than the night through which she wandered and darker, even, than the cover of the Bible, and its words holy ink that she held so dear, created within her a hunger for a lighter life, a life of solace and peace and within old Roger Chillingworth a festering, burning, seeping, frothing, bleeding, sickly, deep, rancid, rotting, unholy hatred through which he gained strength to lead himself toward his own demise.
Now if I wrote that as my thesis, I would get an F automatically. Yes, yes this is the difference between an expository and creative piece but even then! How often have I been corrected for not being concise enough in my creative and informational writing? If I were better at math, I could tell you. But, take it from me it’s a big number. Heck, I should be able to use run-on sentences all the time. Hawthorne did it! I bet his teacher didn’t correct him. In fact, I’m sure she was probably very proud of him, albeit she might have also found him a rather disturbed individual. But most artists are. Okay, so John Steinbeck. The Grapes of Wrath: popular, classic, well-written book. But again not concise. Perhaps I should emulate ol’ John’s style for a minute.
Yesterday I used my feet, tired and with tight blue veins running through equally tight skin, to walk down the stairs in my home, where I have lived for a long time now, where I sleep and eat and whatever manner of other habituary things I do. The soft sound they made against the rough carpeted surface, rugged from years of being trod on, echoed against the walls that surrounded me, walls that contained a myriad of wires and lazily installed pipes. Often times, at night, I could hear the pipes creaking, working to push water, cold and wet, through metal, grimy and old and I would wonder what it would be like to be a mouse. Perhaps then I could see for myself a larger world, a world without small things. Could I be small like a mouse? With a tiny heart beating a million times a minute? What would life be like as I walked on small, clawed feet? Maybe there would be no arguing. Perhaps, if I were a mouse, humanity would be different. There would be no fighting, no disagreement, no will, no choices. Perfect. If I were a mouse, the world could revolve around complete, ideal order and everyone would be a socialist, like me. I could write hundreds of books in which I created a believable plot that I used as an excuse to cram my political beliefs down others’ throats with an avenue of suggestion through motif and theme.  
Not gonna fly with my English teacher. But it worked great for Steinbeck.

Shakespeare made up words for Pete’s sake! I want to make up words in my essays! And with a great amount of queal, I layed my brother’s grupple body down in its grave where it would frostyle for all eternity.
That was fun. Shakespeare must have enjoyed that.

The People of High School
I will start with the Freshman as they are the most vulnerable target and I’m a jerk. Hee. These poor, misguided kids come into the school with the idea that they are adults now. And they feel inclined to act accordingly. Except they don’t act accordingly. The day I watched a group of them do this

was the day I lost respect for the lowest classmen completely. And I could go on and on and ooooon about “relationships” at this age but I’m far too stubby to climb onto that soapbox.
There are some children who exist, as strange is it may seem, solely to distract others. I have a few friends who’s job it is simply to distract me. I am not a proactive person anyway and this kind of interaction…. Well, it doesn’t help anyway.

Tests
How fun it is to be taking a test in a subject you are good at only to be stopped by a question that doesn't make any sense!

It is even funner (it IS a word!) to be distracted the entire class period by questions you don’t know but can think of some really great answers to. You have to hold yourself back with so much force that the rest of your performance suffers.


The Humanity of Teachers
It has always been hard for me to learn science when it could be a foreign language class. Science by itself can be hard to understand. But the penmanship of the teacher varies your success greatly.
Especially when not-taking is involved.

 

These are the Inconveniences of Learning. At least the ones that I’m able to think of at this moment.

In summation, those things are the things that keep me from wanting to go to school tomorrow. I’d much rather be doing unproductive things. Like writing about why I don’t want to go to school because of things. Things.
And if you want to complain about the lack of pictures, I might add that I'm deathly ill with food poisoning. Ya'll are lucky you got anything at all! Anyway, I will be sure to have more drawerings in the next post.








Friday, December 2, 2011

Jake, The Lone Wolf, Chapter 1

Based on the antics that occured during last tri's Spanish Class, and some insults I received through YouTube, I bring you a truly epic epic. This will blow your mind and leave you pondering the purpose of your life. Your journey begins now, either in the middle of, or... the beginning of... Jake's.





Lightning struck over an ancient and gnarled forest. There was electricity in the air as a clap of thunder reverberated throughout the land. The sound was fierce, powerful and signified the coming of a wicked storm. Animals hid themselves away, cowed by the onslaught of noise and afraid of the driving rain yet to come. As each creature, furred and feathered alike, made its way to safety- there was one who stood un-afraid.



With courage alight in him like a blazing fire, Jake the Lone Wolf faced the swirling clouds. He stood with his ears forward in defiance, black fur rippling in the wind. His eyes darted over the sky as they narrowed. The clouds were changing, growing darker and then lighter, distorting themselves into strange shapes. He lowered his body toward the ground, but it was not submission the wolf had in mind. Bracing himself, he drew back twitching lips to reveal rows of deadly teeth. The lightning glinted menacingly off of them.

Taking a breath, Jake started up a heroic growl. The sound came from deep within him and forced itself out onto the wind. It was so loud and carried such sheer force, that it silenced the raging storm. For a moment the wind continued to hold its own against Jake's epicness but it faltered and died helplessly. The clouds began to gather together, forming the shape of a face. As Jake stood, fearlessly facing this frightening face, the clouds formed a mouth, and the image began to speak.

 "Jake," boomed the personage with a voice of thunder, "You have defeated me!"



Jake bowed his head. "Oh great and powerful God of Storms, you are mighty. But it is obvious that I am mightier."



"You ARE mightier, Jake," said the God of Storms, "and now I shall bestow upon you Tim: the Holy Rock of Power, as a token of my amazement!" As the God of Storms spoke, a rock fell from the sky, touching the earth gently as it rested in the grass at Jake's paws. "Take Tim, Jake!" said the God of Storms, "and let him aid you in your quest to become the single greatest wolf in the forest!"

With a whisk of his tail and a dip of his great, black head, Jake picked Tim up in his mouth and turned to take leave. With a single bound, he disappeared into the night.



It was morning by the time Jake had reached his destination. Not tired in the least, he came to a rest next to a tall, willowy oak tree. Setting Tim down, he looked up at the oak.

 “Danielle,” Jake said “the Tree of Wisdom.”



“Hello, Jake,” said the Tree of Wisdom. “Have you come for my advice?”



Jake looked at his paws, “My body is as strong as the raging rapids. But at times my mind can be…” he furrowed his brow in thought, “not…so.”



Danielle the Tree of Wisdom shook her branches in understanding, “What do you need to know?”



“It is time for me to continue my journey. I must know the secret to defeating all the Alpha wolves in the forest.”

Danielle, the Tree of Wisdom was quiet for a moment and when she finally spoke, it was with gentleness. “You are strong, Jake. And with Tim, the Rock of Power, you cannot fail. Believe in yourself, Jake and anything is possible. If you cannot find the strength in your muscles, which is unlikely, you will find it in your heart.”



Jake’s hackles quivered in a slight breeze. He gazed up at the sky with conviction. “Thank you, Danielle. Now that I know what to do, I will become the most powerful wolf in the forest. And once my legend is born, I will continue to be an inspiring role model to all who admire my strength.”



“Go, Jake. Continue your quest to become a legend.”



Jake turned to leave and stopped suddenly. “Before I leave Danielle, there is something that I must ask of you.” The tree announced her interest with silence.

“I need you to keep Tim for I cannot carry him with me. My teeth must be ready and my jaws poised at all times. He will aid me from afar.”

Speaking was for the weak and Jake knew it. The end of his conversation was his to decide. He nodded his head in farewell to both Tim and Danielle before plodding on into the brush.

            It was not long before Jake came upon a pack of wolves. He was inept at speed-walking and moved fast. Running was pointedly overrated in his noble opinion. He had come upon them so quickly and stealthily, they had not noticed him. As he approached the unaware, he cleared his throat gruffly. With an authoritative growl, the Alpha wolf spun around to face this mysterious newcomer. He was much larger than Jake, and likely somewhat smarter but Jake did not allow such silly observations to distract him. He had power coursing through his veins and belief set in his mind.

            Sweeping his head upward in defiance, Jake looked down his snout at the other wolf. The Alpha took a step forward, his hackles rising to attention and his teeth peering out from behind dark lips. “What do you want?” He asked suspiciously.

Jake took a moment to grin a self-righteous grin and said darkly, “Justice.”


The wolves leapt at each other immediately. Jake dodged the Alpha’s snapping jaws and sunk his fangs deep into the other’s skin. The Alpha yelped in pain but returned Jake’s ferocity with vigor. They fought for an indefinite period of time, a mass of fur, teeth and rippling muscles. Finally, using the great power bestowed upon my Tim and the God of Storms, Jake killed the Alpha wolf with a single swipe of his teeth.

            He stepped away from the body and shook himself. Through the entire struggle, the other wolf simply had not been able to touch him and he bore no wounds. The pack had gathered around the two in an effort to watch the battle. Now, they regarded Jake with downcast eyes and respectfully lowered tails.

One stepped forward and spoke, her voice submissively admiring, “You are very mighty great warrior, we are honored to have you as our new Alpha.” But even as she spoke, Jake knew he could not take the place of leader over these, the weak and helpless. He was, after all, a lone wolf and could not be bothered with such petty matters as directing a pack without a leader.

Heaving a sigh, he turned his head away from the wolves. “I must continue my journey,” he said, “to become the most powerful wolf in the forest.” Without another word to the baffled followers, he sped off into the trees without looking back. It was imperative (Jake was not sure to whom but it was imperative) that he finish his journey.

His mission.

His quest.   

Jake, the Lone Wolf.


~~~~~ So there it is. Chapter once. And a new blog post. Sorry there aren't really any pictures, I wasn't in a drawing mood tonight. The next one will.
Also, there WILL be a movie. And that will be amazing as well.
I've had people recently call my writing ah.... what was it? Cheesey! That's the word. So, it got me thinking... CHEESEY! Perfect! How was THIS for cheesey! You want cheesey, guys- you got it! 
And the film- *evil laugh* Ohhh yes! I'm excited. 
Anyway, just ya'll wait, it's gonna be great.  







Friday, October 28, 2011

Christmas Pony

Today I have no homework! Plus, for about an hour, I was home alone. I am not home alone very often so, when I am, it's just like a party. Without other people... or games... or... okay well it's not so much like a party as it is me cantering around the house, singing my little soul out to loud music. I'm pretty sure I'm a mediocre singer. Not that I bother to pay attention. As far as I am aware, noise comes out of my throat when I want it to. Usually. Of course, when no one is home to hear me, here is what I feel like:
I sing and sing, loudly and probably obnoxiously, all my worries leaving as the notes flow from my mouth. And then eventually I realize I actually look like this:

So I stop.

That was the highlight of my day. Other than that, I have been watching My Little Pony a lot. I had so many people tell me to watch it because it will make me 20% cooler. I didn't believe them.


Why did I ever doubt?

That show is actually legitimately entertaining. So is "The Regular Show" that Cartoon Network puts out. I have only seen clips of that... but I thought it was hilarious, surprisingly. I have to watch full episodes of that show...

Other than this, what else have I done? Oh, I decorated the front yard with Christmas lights.









Friday, October 14, 2011

My Rhinoceros Test

It was my misfortune to have taken a math test on Friday. I spent several hours studying in ways that I deemed wise. This meant I stayed after school and talked to my math teacher. Math Teacher has a way of explaining numbers to me that actually makes sense. I enjoy math. It can be fun. But numbers, for some reason are less like logic and more like very small bombs wrapped inside a bigger bomb that will explode the moment I think I understand them.

It has taken my spastic brain three years to fully grasp the complete concept of algebra.

 I took algebra in the 8th grade.
I am in Calculus prep.


Hm, anyway.... Math Teacher applied her amazing skills and I began to find ways to understand the bombs without them exploding. I finished my study guide after x hours of flailing and forcing my brain to think.

I understood everything and spent some time studying before I went to school. I was prepared. This time, I was going to walk into the classroom, sporting my confidence and understanding like a brilliant banner of brainly brightness.

THIS time I was going to get a good score. Gone were the days when my test scores dropped to vulgar lows for no apparent reason. I was going to succeed!
I sat down, took a breath, and looked at the test.

The things I had just spent hours doing rapidly decayed into a pile of confusion, panic and mild hunger. As I attempted each problem, reading carefully one at a time, it dawned on me that I was completely and utterly screwed. The test that had started looking like this:

Began to look like this:

And eventually appeared like this:

If people could change into animals based on how they felt, I would have been a rhinoceros. Because rhinoceroses remind me of bitter failure. And death.

The weekend helped me forget about the test. I drowned my sorrow in lots of cake and time wasting. Eventually, I forgot why I was doing these things in the first place. My problem was temporarily averted.

And then I came to school on Monday! Math Teacher showed us a table of values for the class' test scores. I was relieved to discover that more than half of the class had failed the test. So, I was not alone. On the table, there was a large grouping of anonymous test scores. And waaay below the other failures, there was one score, all by itself. Guess who's score that was!

I was a rhinoceros again.
{UPDATE): I took my midterm. And aced it. Oh, life.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Bunny Rocks

Today I noticed something.




Actually, my Mom noticed it...

My shoes have reflectors!!


This was a surprisingly jarring experience. Mostly because I have been in possession of these shoes for a few months now. I have always been a rather unobservant person. And yet I fail to acknowledge it when it comes to my attention. I am content to blunder through life pretending my embarrassingly stupid inattentions are single incidents and will not, in fact, happen on a daily basis.






I used my reflective shoes to help me walk around the mall. My brother had gotten birthday money and was eager to spend it all in one go. I had twenty six dollars. Twenty six dollars that I supposed I'd spend.
 I found a shirt.

I bought the shirt.

 I liked the shirt. The shirt was orange. I like orange. This took about fifteen minutes. My brother had gone off with my Mom to look at jeans. They told me where they'd be. So, supposing they'd actually be there, I trollupped off to find them. (Trollupped is not actually a word but it is the only one I could think of for the way I walk when I'm expectantly happy. Much like an excited chicken.)

 I walked. And walked, and looked. And looked. I walked in circles around the store. Forty minutes later I was tired, impatient and unsuccessful. Eventually I stopped in the middle of an isle and stood there like this:

But on the inside, I felt like this:

Not only that but I was beginning to realize I had just spent a small sum of money on a small object. I don't like spending money in small quantities. Here is my attitude when it comes to money:


My mind simply cannot justify spending money on anything that will not last for a very long time or that I will pull infinite joy out of. This worries me because here is what will probably happen when I'm an adult:

Anyway, I finally found my Mom and brother. By then, I was very tired and more than ready to go home. I can only handle so much of being out of my house. Eventually, I have to return to my house and do something lazy or I will shrivel and die like a vampire exposed to UV rays. There are times when exceptions are made, however. Like when I become overly interested in something that doesn't really matter or make sense.

 
As tired as I was, on the way home I made everybody stop at Value Village so I could buy a pirate costume.