jc pages

A Blank Page

2012-01-04T00:39:00.001-06:00

That's kind of what New Years is about, isn't it? A fresh start. A new book. A blank page.

I just read on Steph's blog how she loves blank calendars, and I must say I agree. I don't know how many people actually bother to write in notebooks anymore, but for those of you who understand, is it not a thrill to crack the spine of a brand-new book? When the creamy pages are fresh and beautiful and there is no limit to your creativity. I keep personal journals, and every time I start a new one it feels like such a big deal. I practically plot out my first entry before carefully handwriting it. Of course, once you get farther in your handwriting grows sloppier, until your notebook is like an old friend. However, it's the kind of friend you feel comfortable getting angry at. This is when you scribble and scratch things out and long for a new book. :-)

I love fresh starts, but I must say, it never feels like January is much of a fresh start. For me, it's September. New school year, new supplies, new clothes, etc. January is just kind of blah. But I never fail to write New Years resolutions. I am ashamed to say that I'm pretty sure I've never thought of a truly unique one, they're pretty much the same as any other person on this earth. Here are some of the favorites...

"I resolve to quit eating junk food and be a healthier person." That one lasts usually a week before the first slipup, maybe a month or two before it's completely forgotten.

"I resolve to work out and hit the gym." Either you don't have 'time' to get there, or you get to the gym, run for twenty minutes, and collapse and can't go on.

"I resolve to get better marks in school." Applying only to students. Luckily, January is the month we write our final exams. Those will likely drag DOWN my mark.

Anyways, those go on and on. It's embarrassing, how little people change. It's not like I'm guilt-free, either. I've had those goals, or very similar ones, pretty much every year since I grew up and my grade one teacher didn't make us draw pictures of our resolutions. Which, at six, were generally resolutions like making your bed every morning or keeping your room clean.

I didn't bother resolving to write on my blog more often. It's here when I need it. Although I did have the idea to put more photos on here, which is something I've been doing way more often than writing these days.

Anyways, don't be ashamed of your cliche resolutions. It's all in good taste.

Happy New Years!

Queen

2011-09-05T23:53:00.000-06:00

Google informed me today that it is Freddie Mercury's 65th birthday.

I've always found that strange, to be honest. Not Freddie Mercury (although he was a bit of an oddball) but how Google will put stuff like "Van Gogh's 300th Birthday" or whatever. I mean, they're dead. They're not celebrating the date of their birth any longer. It would have been their birthday. This would have been Freddie's birthday, but it's not. So why do people keep saying happy birthday?

I'm not saying I don't want him to be remembered. The opposite, actually. I think he is amazing. He is one of my greatest inspirations for pianist/singers. I love Queen, I love their music, and I love watching their performances because he's such a good performer.

I think it's so sad he died at 45. I know he was gay. I know he contracted AIDS. I know he wasn't a saint, how a lot of people make out dead people to be. (i.e. John Lennon was an amazing musician but he did a shit ton of drugs. That's not incredibly saintlike.) I still don't think anyone deserves to die like that. I just read a very long account of his death on the internet, written by his last boyfriend or something. It could have all been total bullshit, maybe it wasn't. But it was still sad.

(I had a thought. My other greatest inspiration for pianist/singers is Elton John. Can gay men just tickle the ivories better than anybody else? Or should I be concerned with my love for gay guys? Interesting.)

Anyways, Happy Birthday Freddie. You would have been sixty five today. I don't know what you'd be doing, if you would have reunion tours like some bands, or write new music, or release a solo album or something. Maybe your voice would slowly deteriorate, so you can't even sing the songs you used to.

I wonder if it's better for an artist's fame to die young, before the world can see you wither away like a human and watch as your body breaks down and your voice shrinks. They seem to be remembered better that way.

Digging Down Deep for Motivation

2011-08-04T02:11:00.000-06:00

Well, well, well. If my calculations are correct, I last posted November 10th.

2010.

Bro.

That's pathetic.

That's just downright embarrassing.

I don't even know why I even came out and admitted this.

But the truly tear-jerking, shoulder-shaking, sob-worthy sadness of this whole post is that I'm only doing it because I happened to make a deal with Monica.

The hour groweth late, so I shall quickly skim through my brains for the summer activities that have been happening to me lately.

Harry Potter.

         For those of you who are not Harry Potter fans, please leave. Just exit my blog, right now, and crawl into a small dark hole. But bring a small reading light and the boxed book set, so that when you return I can happily welcome you back.

       For those of you who have stuck with Harry and his pals to the very end... who attended the movie showings in full costume... my kindred souls... I salute you.

         For normal people, who most likely fall somewhere in the middle, stay cool.

        Isn't it strange to think it's all over? JK Rowling's legacy has not been a passing phase, a fleeting obsession that was cool for a while but then faded (*cough* *cough* Twilight.) It's been spread out over a decade, and it's readable whether you're six or thirty six-- it's not too childish, it's not too hard. And it deals with STUFF, not necessarily KISSING AND ROMANCE AND SUCH, but deeper love. (And, obviously, I enjoy books with kissing. I enjoy movies with kissing. It's just a good thing.) It makes it more accessible, you know? I mean, I read The Philosopher's Stone when I was but a wee lass of six years old. I think I read it with my mom over the course of months, and then one day I climbed a tree and finished the last quarter myself because I couldn't wait longer.

       And then, before you know it, the seventh book is out, and we made my dad buy three copies so nobody had to wait to read it first. And I read the 700+ page book in about eight straight hours, crying in the right parts, smiling in others, biting my fingernails for most-- and then the books were done. It was a perfect ending.

      But it was okay, because the movies were there. We had those to look forwards to. Personally, I've had July 15th booked off my calendar since I left the theater of Deathly Hallows Part I. And now it's all over.

      Now, I may or may not have had PMS and/or was overtired that day, but did I ever cry. Some people claim to not cry at movies. Ha. A friend of mine said via Facebook "OMG I cried three times!" And I'm thinking, "I wish. I started crying, and then just kept going." But it was okay, because when you leave the theater hiccuping with your makeup smeared around your eyes, going to the bathroom to try to make your face less red and blow your nose, you're not alone. All those dedicated Potterwatchers are there for you.

       And in case your wondering, I used my fluffy hair to my advantage and dressed up as Bellatrix Lestrange to attend the midnight premiere.

       2. Stephen King

          I am an avid reader (further classified as "bookworm" or "nerd") and have recently discovered the wonders of good old Steve. I have been reading his novels this summer, and I also watched the Green Mile. (And I died in all its fantasocity.) "The Langoliers" and "The Body" are my favorite novellas. "Needful Things" and "Misery" are my favorite books. And for the record, don't read "Pet Sematary" and then proceed to obey your mom's wishes and get the water hose from outside when it's midnight and pitch black outside. I'm fairly certain it's bad for your blood pressure.

        ON THE SUBJECT OF BOOKS I recently read Paranormalcy (actually I finished it two hours ago) and was astounded, angry, and jealous. I was astounded that a book could make me that happy to read, and how much fun it was. I was angry it took me this long to read it, because I was denying myself of awesomeness. And, oh, jealous because I CAN'T WRITE LIKE THAT.

          Kiersten White: you rock. And I hate you a little for it. But I can't, because anyone who creates Evie has to be sweet.

          3. Work

           I have at last joined the leagues of the working class, and found that I have not been missing much. I am a Sandwich Artist at a restaurant called Subway, which is situated in about every city and/or town across the globe, I have been realizing.

              Well, perhaps not in Africa. Or those other eastern places that don't eat real food like fries, or pizza, or even subs, but eat weird things like abalone (which sounds like lunch meat but is actually an endangered sea creature type object of a sort) and poisonous fish and weird plants and, I dunno, shark fins.

         It's a pretty sweet job, actually, because I work with some sweet teenagers and we have fun. And also, we get free Slushies and fountain drinks. And coffee. And half-price cookies, which sounds like a good idea until you get a slow day and consume half the pan. (I recommend White Chocolate Macadamia Nut, which have to come from heaven or someplace similar.)

        Technically, I guess that would make Heaven situated in our industrial freezer.

Moving on.

All I've been doing this summer is lazing around, doing a few creative things and feeling guilty when I don't do anything. And then I think, summer is meant for relaxing. You're recharging your batteries for school when things get busy.

And then I think, but since it's noon you could probably get out of bed.

I've taken some pictures, I've played my guitar and my tiny, adorable purple ukulele, and I've even blown the dust off an unfinished manuscript and been polishing that a bit.

Maybe I should just finish that damn thing, send it to a few publishers, and then forget about it. That would be nice.

All right. I'm not going to promise I'll be a regular blogger, because I suck at keeping those kind of promises. (Hence, the junk food I will never ever eat because it's bad for you and you don't need it and you can talk yourself out of it honestly it's not worth it oh okay just this once mmmmmmm). But on the other hand, I don't want to be the kind of blogger whose every other post is "Oh I'm so busy! I should write more often!"

I think the problem here, is that we need a MAKEOVER. Clean everything out. Start fresh. Make it pretty. Dust off the cobwebs.

Promises are easier to keep when they are pretty.

For Your Amusement

2010-11-10T23:20:00.001-06:00

I decided that, since I have nothing to say, I would post some of my pictures. Some are edited, some are raw, but they were all taken by me.

A Successful Day

2010-09-28T20:02:00.000-06:00

This morning, I woke up at an ungodly hour (see: 6am) to travel an hour to arrive at my orthodontists' office at eight in the morning. Normally, this would have depressed me beyond belief. Ortho usually means a) a sore mouth for 3 days, b) adjustment of wires and cutting up my mouth, c) reprimandation (is that a word?) from the hygienists, or d) all of the above. Except for this time, it was special. It was the last time I would enter that godforsaken place WITH BRACES ON.

Yes, folks, I have successfully completed my orthodontic treatment. Hurray!

In truth, I got my top braces off in July. That was a glorious day. But today, when they removed my lower braces, I was like: I AM FINISHED. Braces were not a particularly wonderful experience. The only thing is, I had to get a retainer for my bottom teeth.

I think that back in the day, retainers included a wire that stretched across your teeth. My retainers are perfectly clear, like a thin cast that I slip over my teeth. You would think that you wouldn't notice it so much, but you do. For a few days, my teeth will hurt again. The retainer brings a new kind of pressure to my teeth, so it makes them sore.

I can't remember what it's like to not think about my teeth every other minute.

I decided to eat some frozen yogurt: it soothes my mouth and I got to remove my retainer for a while. This plan seems to be working quite well.

:-D

CSLC

2010-09-27T21:42:00.002-06:00

"CSLC is hot to go, say H-O-T-T-O-G-O, ahoo! Hot to go! Ahoo, hot to go!"

This is the cheer that was echoing through the hallways of LBP school at this years' 26th Annual Canadian Student Leadership Conference! Where Canadian leaders throughout the country are selected to go, mingle, and learn how to be the leaders of tomorrow!

This is starting to sound dangerously like an advertisement/newspaper article, so I'm going to stop now.

Cliche though the words may be, they were true. They ARE true. And this year, our student council advisor picked two students from our school to go to CSLC. One of them was an eleventh grade girl named Abby, and the other was me.

It was the experience of a lifetime. Seriously, it was! This year, it was held in Montreal. I live in Saskatchewan! Mrs E, Abby and I boarded a plane at 6am last Tuesday. We flew to Toronto, then to Montreal. I had never ridden a plane before (that I could remember.) It was so cool! It's weird to think about how some people, businessmen and women, fly all the time for their job. When we boarded the plane, Abby and I were poking about everywhere. We flicked past all the things on the screen mounted in the seats, examined all the magazines and safety cards and took pictures and exclaimed and generally looked like the small-town hicks we are. Other people would take their seats, pull out a book or a Blackberry, and didn't look up or out the window when we were taking off.

I was imagining doing this all again in the future. I would so love to take a trip to Europe someday with my camera and tour and take pictures everywhere. The top three places I want to go are 1) Italy 2) Rome and 3) Greece. Someday I want to go to Australia, too. That would be such an amazing experience.

I decided I want to go to Montreal again too! In truth, we didn't actually see too much of the city. We spent most of our day in the school, which was so much fun. I met so many people, and it wasn't like a typical school where you have your ten or so people that are bursting with spirit. From there about half or more of the kids participate self-consciously in events, and the remainder are 'too cool' to look like they're having fun at a school event.

No. At CSLC (we called it see-slick), every single person was selected to go there because they are a good leader. Every person has made a difference in their school, and every person had school spirit enough for five. In the cafeteria, a table would stand up and chant, "WE'VE GOT SPIRIT YES WE DO, WE'VE GOT SPIRIT HOW 'BOUT YOU?" and point to the next table, who would try and top their cheer. We would get involved in huge circles playing games like Ninja and Pony (I'll explain later) and we were an enthusiastic audience. Seriously. We gave every speaker something like three standing ovations. We would stand when they entered the stage, we would stand again if they cracked a good joke, and again at the end.

This year, the theme was "Big Top" (that's "Grand Chapiteau" for you French folks) and they hired a performer almost every day. There were acrobats and jugglers, and this one guy named Scott Hammell whom I now adore. He's an escape artist! Ever heard of Houdini? He was like him. Honestly, I didn't know people still did that. But he got in the Guinness Book of World Records when he performed a crazy stunt. He was bound in a straitjacket, then wrapped in fifty feet of chains and secured with four padlocks. Then he strapped bungee cords to his boots, and was lifted something like 7, 200 feet in the air by an air balloon. He struggled out of it in 54 seconds. And he was only eighteen at the time!!

Needless to say, he's awesome. He performed this again for us, the straitjacket, chains, and padlocks, and even the hanging upside down. He had to pop out his shoulder to struggle out of the straitjacket-- it was somewhat disgusting. Ugggh.

Also, he's a hypnotist. I love hypnotist shows!! We had one at our school last year, but I was a freshman and too nervous to volunteer. I was too nervous to volunteer this time, too. I hope that, if we get a hypnotist again at Christmas, I'll get the guts to go up. He's also a motivational speaker for Free the Children.

CSLC inspired me so much. Before Montreal, I think my goals were something like this: 1) publish a book 2) play guitar. Something like that.

Now, my new ambition is to speak French. I'm seriously considering an exchange trip in grade eleven. Canada is a bilingual country! I want to be fluent en Francais et Anglais.

The other thing I want to do is go on a trip to benefit a third world country. One of those trips where you travel to a place like Haiti or Thailand and build houses and make friends with orphan kids. I really want to do that now, maybe after I graduate I could do something like that. I should get involved with Free the Children. We had Marc Kielburger give a presentation to us. You may not know him, but he is Craig Kielburger's brother. This is the kid that started the foundation called Free the Children. Craig started this when he was, like, twelve years old. It's now international and has built 600 schools for children who had no way of getting an education.

We did get to see some of Montreal. On Thursday, we participated in an Amazing Race. IT WAS AMAZING. Downtown Montreal is so beautiful! The buildings are all old and brick, with carvings and cool windows. Tres belle. Someday I'm going back there, when I can speak French, and I'm sbringing a camera for more photography.

The last night of CSLC was sad. We had to leave all these new friends! And it wasn't like our provincial conference, when people lived two hours away, or four, or five. I said good-bye to people that lived in Quebec City, B.C., New Brunswick, Manitoba, and Newfoundland. We spent the last night running around and hugging everyone. I was sad, but it was nice, too. There was a dance, but me and three other people just hung out in the lobby of Palais de Congres and just talked. We told each other random facts about ourselves that we hadn't gotten to in the past five days.

It was such an amazing experience! I had never felt that feeling before. I guess it would be like if you moved to a new city, and you started at a new school and you could be anyone you wanted. I knew one person out of 700 teenagers there. I could be anyone I wanted to be.

Just as an example. In my town, most of the girls dance. It's just what you do. Ballet, jazz, tap, lyrical, etc. I had been in dance almost all my life, but I quit this year. I just don't enjoy it. I'm now focusing on SRC, music, and volleyball. A lot of people in town, when I say "I'm not dancing this year," they just go "what?"

Because that's how a lot of people know me, I guess. But at CSLC? I never mentioned that I used to dance. They didn't know me as a former dancer. They knew what I told them about. We had an exercise when we had to say the things we were passionate about to a stranger in the audience. I turned to a girl beside me from Nova Scotia and said, "I'm passionate about art and music." Because it's true. That is what I enjoy. This girl didn't know that at home, I play the Sims 3 and used to dance and play volleyball and don't like math.

I'm home now, and I'm still feeling inspired. Instead of wasting my time today, I picked up my guitar and practiced for a while. The fingers of my left hand are sore now, but I feel satisfied. I learned something, I strengthened a skill, I didn't just sit and watch TV or waste time on Facebook.

So, I now know more about being a leader. I want to change my school. I want to learn a new language, and I want to help those less fortunate than me.

If you ever have the chance to participate in a chance like this, you shouldn't even hesitate. You should grab at the chance. It's in Newfoundland next year, in case you were wondering. :-)

Ghost Town

2010-08-15T22:53:00.000-06:00

My blog has become a ghost town. I don't really have anything to say.

I accomplished this many things this summer:

0.00000284

Go me.

S.A.D.

2010-06-17T13:42:00.002-06:00

SAD. Seasonal Affective Disorder. Perhaps you've heard of it?

Because seriously, I don't know where you guys come from. I live in southern Saskatchewan, Canada. So, you know. Long-ish cold winters, soggy springs, hot summer. It's doable.

But not this rain! This solid, gloomy, never-ending rain!

I need sunshine. I need warmth. I need sparkling dewdrops as opposed to ankle-slopping lakes that now drape the lawns. I need vitamin D!

That's where that SAD comes from, I think. Lack of vitamin D can be damaging to your health!

Poor, poor farmers. :-(

My creativity is on strike. I think my vitamin D intake filters directly to that outlet of my brain.

My question: If it's been raining for three solid weeks with maybe two and a half days of sunshine in between, HOW the HELL can there still be water left in the sky??? There has not been any evaporation happening!! Where is all this water coming from???

Tell me the answer. I do not understand.

Soggily yours,
jckandy

...

2010-05-23T20:36:00.000-06:00

I don't really have anything to say besides...

1. my parents are strict and mean and
2. I am hopelessly in love

This is a painfully cliche teenage moment. I mean, my parents won't let me go to an all-nighter at the Drive-In. And I have a gigantic crush on this guy who doesn't think of me as more than a friend.

This has no originality whatsoever.

In fact, I'm depressed at myself.

Signing off,
jckandy

Infatuated with the Arts

2010-04-28T18:28:00.000-06:00

Indeed, I am infatuated with the arts. I like that little sentence. It's amusing.

I mean, seriously. When I first kind of figured out the whole idea of "The Arts:" that includes a lot. Drama, writing, music, photography, drawing, painting. Then I realized that just about summed up everything I like about life.

Honestly, I don't understand how people live without art. How can they not? I mean, it's difficult for me to remember a time before I could read music. I am forever grateful for my mom putting me into a kids' music program at a young age. I love music. This year I joined two bands, one on the flute one on the keyboard. You can probably figure out what different kinds of bands those are. Before this year when I joined garage band, I really had no experience with breaking songs into chords and playing them your way. I am really glad I have learned. (Also, joining g-band, I met my first real crush. <3...)

Being in band made me want to learn guitar. Because it seems to me that EVERYONE who is musical can play guitar. I wanted to play guitar. My brother plays it, he has an electric, and he's quite good. So I sat down with it one day, thinking, "Oh, I should get the hang of this pretty soon. I can already read music, after all." Hoo boy. Was I ever WRONG.

I should have thought back to when I first began playing the flute: it took me a long time to just learn the ambuture (the way you hold your lips when you blow, it affects the sound) took me forever. So, lesson learned: guitar takes time. Also I'm not a regular practicer, so it's taking a long time.

My friend Brooke, also in band, plays guitar. She's also an amazing, beautiful singer and is going to be famous before she's twenty. She doesn't read music, but she writes songs. Fabulous songs, actually. She told me it took her a while to figure it out but once she learned, guitar comes easily. Which is comforting, I guess, except for the fact that Brooke is a fricking musical prodigy, and she probably has the dedication to practice for hours.

Anyways, I was practicing guitar tonight and just got lazy and printed out a page of frequently used chords in rock music and decided to try and learn them. THAT'S ALL I NEED TO KNOW.

And in case you guys are musical, the chords are: C, D, D7, E, Em, E7, F, G, A, Am, and A7, but I think that B and Bm are noteworthy as well. (haha, no pun intended.)

Another artistic endeavor I have been experimenting with lately is photography. Several times I have just walked around town, snapping pictures, and was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. It kind of made me think about some stuff, because I take quite a few extracurriculars in the winter. Skating and dance are over, so my schedule is relatively clear except for softball, but still.

People are always saying that life is too short. Does that mean life is too short not to TRY everything, and get all those experiences in? What I mean is, should we try everything that comes our way? I tried badminton and basketball and didn't stick with either. Or is life too short not to waste time doing something we truly enjoy? Volleyball is definitely my favorite sport. At volleyball practice, I don't notice until afterwards if I'm tired or hurting. I just want to keep going. But in dance...I sometimes enjoy it, sometimes don't. Should I stay in it and get the experience? Or just stick with the things I really enjoy?

That was just the result of some late-night scribbles on a pad of paper. I was just thinking about that kind of stuff. Do you have any truly deep passions, and then some things you just stick with because?

World Transitions

2010-04-22T22:59:00.000-06:00

Have you ever felt like there are multiple dimensions in your life? You know, almost like multiple personalities? Have you ever watched the Criminal Minds episode where the janitor has MP disorder and can unknowingly switch between his regular self: shy, reclusive, quiet: and his opposite self, Amanda, a nasty, violent, murderous villain? That's what I feel like sometimes, only not in my personality but in my life. It's like different worlds, from when you're mingling with friends to when you're walking on a beach. The first is a louder, looser atmosphere, but with the faint underlying tension of the fact that you're under scrutiny. The latter can be entirely relaxed, solitary, at peace with the world.

For me, the other place I visited today was the farm where we board our horses. Out there, fluorescent lights feel far away. It's hard to think of makeup and homework, skirts and cell phones and such, when you're out there. The farm is in the middle of nowhere, basically. It's a good twenty minutes from town. There are cows, and horses, and sheltie dogs, and the family who lives there. And that's it.

When we're out riding, it's kind of hilly, but not like a mountain. The scrubby, dirt-and-grass patches form sort of rolling hills. That makes it sound like poetic oceans of velvet green, when in reality it's peppered with rocks and ruts and inset with sloughs. But when you're on a hill, atop a living creature, with wind blowing your hair around and barely any civilization nearby, it feels like you're a step closer to nature.

I'm learning so much from my horses. Unless you've ridden often, you might not fully comprehend how much personality they have. That sounds strange, but it's true. I had kind of thought that, deep down, horses are horses no matter who rides them. And that is SO NOT TRUE. It depends on the rider almost more than the horse!

Our horses, Bo and Yoshi, are really excellent horses. Bo is a lazy old 17-year-old who has pretty much seen it all. Yoshi's been handled by kids. So they're both really good...but although Bo is usually pretty nonchalant about...everything, Yoshi is like a toddler. He is meek if he has to be (aka: if the rider is experienced) and then he is careful and quiet. He runs to the sound of his name, and follows people around in his pen. But once you slip on his halter and lead, he does NOT want to do what he's told.

He's still a good horse, though. We just need to teach him a few lessons.

I LOVE HORSEBACK RIDING. It's so magical.

Rebelliousness

2010-04-19T14:27:00.003-06:00

We have a substitute for health today, and the computer stuff isn 't working out somehow. He informed us, with regret, that we would have to do homework/play games for the rest of the period. DARN.

This weekend was dance festival. That means that for three days, it was a hairspray scented whirlwind of jittery nerves, stretching, Taco in a Bag and lipstick stained Pepsi cans. Bright lights and makeup melting onto faces, fake eyelashes and bobby pins.

I don't know why I like it so much, but I do.

Our recital is next weekend. The differences between festival and recital are simple: the annual Dance Festival is a competition. Other dance studios come, there are adjudicators and sessions and the electric, sparkling air of competitive feelings. But here, at least, the dancers aren't all the uptight, skinny b*tches other people may suspect. Lots of dancers from other towns are friends. I caught up with two friends I played ball with last year. It was really different, seeing Brianna and Shaelyn with slicked ponytails and lipstick other than ball uniforms.

Anyways, recital has two opposite charges. Only our town attends, and it only takes one night. Most people in the audience: families and friends, mainly: are relaxed and enjoying the show. However, since the dances are close together, that means that the dancers have that much less time to get ready. It's not so bad for me-- I only have three dances on stage this year. But some of my fanatical dancer friends may change their hair and costumes ten times! But since the atmosphere is generally much looser, if you have a curly ponytail while everyone else has a straight one, it doesn't matter much. Recital also gets videotaped, and everyone usually buys a copy to keep.

This year, I volunteered for the duty of the Power Point we put up. On a screen in the corner of the gym, we project the current dance with the dancers involved in it and any awards they have won. I don't mind typing and hoped I could spice it up a little.

In the end, I decided to use photography for two different things: some generic pictures in the background of the power point, and then the personalized pictures in a slide show to show during intermission, etc.

For the background pictures, I took stuff like a close up of pointe shoes, bobby pins scattered across a counter, heated hair appliances lined up, a carnation reflected in a mirror. I also decided to put my "Be Yourself" picture in, the one of my ballet group's leg warmers. I like that picture.

This weekend, I busied myself by essentially capturing every thing that went on in the dressing room. Since we host this, we get the largest room in the school--the library. I have people stretching, laughing, doing hair, practicing, or just hanging out. I probably took over 350 pictures over the course of a few days. People were about to put a restraining order on me and my relentless camera.

I had to delete lots, of course: many were blurry or didn't turn out. But I got some really, really cool pictures. Since this is a school computer, I dont' have them on here right now, but I will post them later.

The recital is next Sunday. I really don't have that much time!

I've already typed out all the groups for the Power Point, it's just a matter of putting them in order on the slides. That won't take long, and my friends are helping me anyways. It'll be fine.

I have approved 78 pictures for my slide show so far. Some I have edited, some I haven't. I also need to find some soundtrack to go behind it. These are the ones I've considered so far:

All About Soul Remix by Billy Joel
Dancing Queen by ABBA
Just Dance by Lady Gaga
Dancing Days by Led Zeppelin

The last one was my friend Kristy's suggestion. She's a die-hard Zeppelin fan.

I don't have enough pictures for four songs, I don't think, so I was thinking of maybe trimming the songs to get like a minute of each. That way you could get, like, the essence of the song without the whole thing. Plus, everyone's heard Dancing Queen. Many times.

I'm really excited about the slideshow. A couple of dance moms have suggested that I sell it on a DVD or something. That might be a good idea. I still have to make sure I've included everyone in it, though. I tried to get lots of shots of the younger kids this weekend, as well as the older kids. I still have the practices this week to get a few more pictures.

I really enjoy photography. I'm excited about how it will turn out.

I'm trying to prioritize my activities now. I've really been a lame blogger lately. I think I'm losing my status in Blogger World. I need to get back in the loop! Especially now that I'm finding I'm enjoying photography more and more. I need to get in on more of those blogs!

Hopefully back in the blogger life,

jckandy xoxo

Photography

2010-04-01T20:16:00.003-06:00

Horses

2010-02-28T00:08:00.003-06:00

I think I've probably mentioned this, but my family is planning on moving to an acreage. We have a deal written down, and our farm is BEAUTIFUL, and the house is okay. As soon as we salvage the sell on our own house, we are OFF, baby! I can hardly wait.

And obviously, the best part about living on a farm is the animals. See: HORSES.

We found two horses that we went to look at today. Their names are Mr. Bojangles and Yoshi. Bo is a HUGE Chestnut (sixteen and a half hands: his shoulders reach my HEAD, and I'm 5"6!), seventeen years old, shaggy and really gentle. An old man rode him until he was eighty-five. Yoshi is a relatively smaller Appaloosa, only seven, but he's been around kids his whole life.

Here is that Picnik photo I semi-promised.

That's me atop Big Bo, and my mom is hugging him. Isn't this a cute picture?? I just love the quote I found: "If you want a stable friend, get a horse."

We were all into it, except one of my brothers, who is afraid of horses. He didn't even touch them. Oddly, it's my older younger brother (does that make sense?? Landon's twelve, Carson's seven, they're both younger than me but Landon is older) that is scared. He'll warm up to them.

We don't have any tack (saddles, bridles, etc), and the woman we who owns the horses (an AWESOME person named Kim) had lent hers for the time being, so we hopped on bareback. Which makes it sound a lot more professional then it actually was.

Even my DAD was riding! Bo is so tame that when my dad leaped onto him and scrambled into a sitting position (a funny sight), he just stood there! It was great.

This is Carson atop Yoshi. I was so glad when Carson joined in on our horse-mania! He was never super into our whole horses scheme, not like us girls were, but once we were there he wanted to ride. And man, he hopped on Yoshi, and I led him around the corrall a few times, then Kloey led him around for a long time, and he wouldn't get off!

Kloey on Big Bo. Now, Kloey's not exactly obese, but she's not a small kid. She's quite tall for ten years old, and look how small she looks on Bo!

For Christmas, Kloey got this blue halter and striped lead rope. She's only used it on our dogs so far, so she was thrilled to use them on a real horse today! Yoshi will be like her horse, because he's smaller. Bo will be like my horse (although we will all ride them, definitely. It's just that Kloey and I are the current horse maniacs.), so after today we got him a deep green halter and lead that looks pretty with his reddish hair!

That was what we did this morning: checking out our horses. Since we're pretty much amateurs in the whole thing, we are asking one of our equestrian friends to come out with us next week just to double-check the horses, make sure they are family friendly. Then they will be ours!

If our house would sell, I would be ON TOP OF THE WORLD with ECSTASY.

Personally, I think I could probably work the farm life. I'd have to stop dressing up so much on a day-to-day basis, I think. (Leggings are my favorites.) I have outfit habits: on school days, either I wake up late and throw on yoga pants and a t-shirt or hoodie, or else I wake up on time and wear, like, a purple tunic-y shirt over patterned leggings.

But I can SO get used to jeans.

Hair and Photos (but not hairy photos)

2010-02-20T14:22:00.002-06:00

Firstly: hair. Mine is currently purple streaked. YAY.

Secondly: Photos. I have been having an excellent time on Picnik lately! It's very exciting. I really want to upgrade to Picnik PREMIUM. That would be sweeet.

I meant to upload my beautiful photos on here to show y'all, but it's not working. I'll show you later.

Links

2010-02-13T20:50:00.004-06:00

I just had to link Lexi's post onto mine. She posted the cutest video EVER! Click here for Valentine's Day, animated, heart-warming-ness. Or else I'm just a sucker.

New Favorite Songs:

"Heaven" by Bryan Adams
"Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand
"Are You Gonna Be My Girl" by JET
"Turn Me Loose" by Loverboy
"Cha-Ching" by Hedley
"Gives You Hell" by the All-American Rejects
"Mr. Brightside" by the Killers

I recommend listening to them.

...

2010-02-01T16:29:00.002-06:00

I have nothing to blog about. I just needed a new post.

Sorry, guys.

Except I'm lately into yoga.

Snowstorms

2010-01-24T10:26:00.005-06:00

I slept in (later than usual) this morning. Was it because I went to bed at one o'clock? Uh...not necessarily. It was because of this.

In Saskatchewan, Canada, guess what it does? Yep. Snows. There's a huge snowstorm all weekend. It's awesome! There are times that I hate winter, and cold, but I love blizzards. They're just so cool. (Pardon the pun.) My window in my bedroom was completely packed with snow.

It was kind of dark.

A weekend activity of mine has included, thus far:

Watching the "Canada for Haiti" telethon. My family is going to contribute some money. That's just awful, what has happened. However, I really liked the way they had people perform at the show: acoustic, pure. A guitar with a microphone, a piano. Plain voices. It was very effective.

Working the food booth at Carson's hockey game. I like working the booth. I'm pretty much professional by now.

Watching an old Disney movie for no reason at all. (Atlantis). It was grand.

Playing too much of the Sims 3 and frustrated because it still is not working correctly.

Making rainbow cookies and sledding with my friend Aaleah. We made rainbow cookies last weekend, too. We used different colors this time. At my house, they were blue, purple, and an odd shade that was either green or yellow. We also chilled the dough in a wrong size pan, so the cookies were all deformed. At Aaleah's, we were more professional. We made pink, green, and blue cookies, in the right size of pan. Except Aaleah had problems cutting them, and then I baked a batch for too long and they're too crunchy.

Reading The Lovely Bones. Interesting but weird.

Finding this picture!

Oh, yes. A double-decker homemade Oreo I made at Christmas.

Zen Mode

2010-01-16T23:29:00.003-06:00

I did yoga tonight. I introduced my little sister to it. She was a natural.

I feel totally zen now. I also don't have anything to say in a blog post.

Except sorry I haven't been a faithful poster. I'm a busy person.

I deliver papers twice a week, teach skating AND figure skate Tuesday and Thursday, ballet on Wednesday, and tap on Thursday.

Sorry. No one cares about my schedule. I just want to say that

a) My novel is laying guiltily on my mind (it's been neglected) and
b) I'm nervous about a garage band performance tomorrow.

Garage band, you say? It's a modern school band my awesome band director Mr. M created. There's, like, vocalists (fancier than singers), guitar, keyboard (me), drums. We play CLASSIC ROCK: Hotel California is our personal hit. I love eighties music so much. It's my new thing. Top of my list:

Billy Joel
Corey Hart
Journey
Eagles
Elton John (okay, so he's not eighties. He's been around forever. But he's a tank.)

Hating Computers and Hardware

2010-01-09T18:20:00.002-06:00

I HATE MY LAPTOP. I WAS COMPELLED TO HURL IT AGAINST A WALL.

But I didn't, because I love it deep down. I just forget sometimes.

You know what I don't love? The Sims 3. I know there are not many people who actually read this blog, but the ones that do are possibly too mature for video games. I'M IMMATURE. Okay? I really, really like the Sims. Sadly.

Ever since I upgraded to Windows 7, Simming has just not been happening. It, like, freezes, blacks out, and comes back. Or it freezes, and stays until Windows defense takes over and restarts.

RRRGH.

I had an interesting game going, too. Ever since I installed World Adventures. Which, by the way, is supremely fun. You explore tombs and such. Make wine. Learn martial arts.

I'm going to stop ranting someday. PROMISE.

But if any of you are PC geniuses, let me know.

A Life-Changing Experience Before 7 AM

2009-12-21T07:10:00.002-06:00

A life-changing experience before seven o'clock in the morning is not quite as enlightening as you think it is. Really. It is not.

My iPod alarm gently shuddered with a harp sound. The strumming of a harp is melodious and lovely--once. It just repeated and repeated until I had to, like, get up and shut it off. Six am. NOT FUN.

I threw on some sweatpants and grabbed a stick of gum to qualify as breakfast AND brushing my teeth. I adjusted my sleeping-ponytail (which makes it sound more high-tech than it really is: it's just a wad on top of my head), splashed water on my face, missed and grabbed a bunny hug to cover my wet T-shirt, then went upstairs. My mommy drove me to school.

The school custodian was there, surprisingly early, and let me in. My buddy Konnor was in the Home Ec room already, waiting. I dumped my stuff in my locker so I won't have to later and we waited for everyone else.

They arrived. Then we got out the turkeys.

Yes: we were WASHING TURKEYS.

Ewwwwwwwwwwww.

Those gross, frozen birds are not that pinkish-beige raw-skin color. They're DISCOLORED, white and pink and blue like a bruise. And they're really, really cold. Washing them in cold water, as well, is FREEZING. But we're all from Saskatchewan, so we're used to it. Ha.

We had to REACH IN (Mrs. Edwards says it's the stomach, but...) and pull out its guts. A lot of interesting, purplish-dark red shapes came out. We had to rinse it off and pat it dry, inside and out (inside, you can feel the pattern of its ribcage. UCK.) and put it in the pan and slide it in the oven. Then we scrubbed. For a long time.

We are roasting the turkeys today, so the whole high school will smell glorious!

The things I do for the SRC.

Our Christmas dinner is on Tuesday, our last day of school before Christmas holidays. That day, we also have Formal Day (so everyone's pretty) Santa Pictures (with our IA teacher) and the hypnotist (!). I saw a hypnotist last year, and it was HILARIOUS. And a little creepy, and excellent. This year the hypnotist calls volunteers up by class, so since I'm a freshie, I probably won't be hypnotized this year. But I love to watch!

Anyways, now I know how to gut a turkey. I can use this skill forever. But you know what?

I think I'm actually a vegetarian.

Busy, busy me.

2009-12-20T16:10:00.002-06:00

I have a busy life. I really do.

THINGS THAT ARE GOING WELL:

School. I've been actually doing my homework and studying for tests. I'm almost a model student. *snert*
Band. My lunchtime band, the traditional one with flutes (me) and trumpets and stuff is lovely. Garage band, the modern one with guitars and vocalists and keyboard (me) is going awesome. Plus, I'm getting lots of good tunes for my hungry iPod.
Figure skating. Sort of. I'm not a naturally athletic person, but I landed my flip! My flip is sad and jerky and pathetic, but I can land it now!
Dance. Not that I actually enjoy dance, but my teacher informed me that even though I quit a required ballet exam class, I can still perform a musical theatre duet with my friend, Aaleah!! I'm so excited. It's, like, Bob and Mackenzie something. We're gonna be two drunk men singing! I can't wait!
SRC. I'm just a Member at Large, but it's fun. I really want to be president someday. I was secretary in elementary school, which I also enjoyed. One of those would be lovely. Our newest endeavor is that we are putting on a turkey dinner, then Santa pictures, and then a hypnotist! It'll be fun. It also means I have to drag myself to school at SIX THIRTY am to wash the turkeys and pop them in the oven on Monday. GLORIOUS.

THINGS THAT ARE NOT GOING WELL:

Miriam's Isle. I haven't even cracked the document in weeks. OOPS. It has become a Christmas project.

Merry Christmas, and stuff. We only have two more days of school before the holidays! I only have one more test!

Photographs

2009-12-03T18:54:00.002-06:00

Below I have posted some pictures, simply for something to post about. They are not recent, I just took them during the summer and have not shared them "wiff ze world." So anyways, enjoy them.

I love this! Someone had set up one of those add water animals in a jug. I added the "help."

Aw...my fishies, Christine and Coraline. Also edited by me.

Look closely...dotted atop the fence poles are birds taking a rest!

I LOVE THIS MONKEY! From the Calgary Zoo, when I went.

My brother sleeping on a rail around the light house.

And there's lots more where these came from.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

2009-11-29T20:12:00.002-06:00

WE FOUND CLOVER!

She had not vanished to the field and been ripped apart by coyotes. She had not frozen in a little, frost-bitten hump. My dad found her hopping around back alley, apparently unscathed.

That's insane. I didn't believe we would find her.

YAY!

Clover

2009-11-29T00:00:00.003-06:00

I would like to dedicate this post to our rabbit, Clover. She's gone.

Ashamedly but truthfully, I didn't like that bunny very much. She was cute, for sure, when she was a baby ($5 at a petting zoo. Spur of the moment) and she would snuggle into your neck. But she got older and went into heat (with rabbits, it's a permanent heat) and she went crazy with hormones and circled our feet, nipping ankles and rubbing her chin on everything. Apparently, that's "mating behavior" which means she's just goin' crazy for some love. We had discussed setting up a little lovemaking session with one of our friend's rabbits. They have two males, Dexter and Bruce, and their owner LL said that they're gay, actually. We didn't get her fixed 'cause it costs, like, 300 bucks because a rabbit qualifies as an exotic animal. Give me a break. If you've ever been to Calgary, those suckers are not rare nor are they scarcely sighted. Jeez, I saw the fattest jackrabbit in the world amiably hopping around the fricking hospital grounds. Clover lived in a cage mainly, but she would be allowed out to roam the house for certain periods of time. She would pee on everything, usually material, and also drop little turdlets that look like raisins but really aren't. We would also let her out in the backyard, where she would frisk and frolic and hide under the deck or shed for hours so we had to retrieve her in our pajamas at ten thirty in the freezing cold with flashlights. Her various cages that we tried and retried to make took up a lot of room. Clover was a pain.

But now that's she's gone, I feel a weird kind of sadness. Not devastated in the way I was when I lost my cat, Shegwa, whom I received for Christmas when I was six. Not hopeless in the way I was when I lost Lucky, Shegwa's daughter. We have bad luck in our family. It's weird how I didn't like her, because I'm an animal lover. Always. I like cats, dogs, fish, goats, horses, cows, snakes, guinea pigs, lizards, frogs, basically anything that is not a bug. Except I get creeped out by plecostomuses and weird slimy creatures that live in dark places. Or else insects. But anyway, it really makes me sad to think about Clover not being there. Because even when she was annoying, she was still a part of the family, kind of. Also, she always seemed to have kind of a personality. A fiesty one. I can't believe I won't see her again.

Because she was so sweet at times. When we first got her, a tiny, fit-in-a-palm almond-colored thing, who tucked herself into your neck or shoulder and let you hold her on her back like a baby. She had a charming, twitching little nose, and if you held her with her front paws on your shoulder you could hear her sniffing. And sometimes she would lay her soft ears against her nut-brown fur, and sometimes, when she was frisky they would stick straight up, and sometimes one would be up and one would be down, like she was contemplating something. And she was hysterical to watch in the backyard as she streaked pointlessly around the yard, and leapt and twisted in the air, and skidded across the dirt. And how she always wanted a friend, and would cuddle up with our dogs, Shanli and Beckett when they were lying down. It was funny to watch how she always annoyed our other animals. I recall one day she stuck to our cat, Mr. Puddles, tail, never leaving him alone, and he turned and swiped at her and she leapt on him and they wrestled. It ended with Puddles squirmed out from under her and ran away. He got beaten up by a rabbit! It was even kind of cute the way she would circle your feet. Mom looked it up on the Internet, and that means she possesses you or something. You're hers. Clover only really liked Mom, but she was cute.

How she vanished was we put her in the backyard, just like every afternoon. I had gone to my volleyball windup in Saskatoon, so I wasn't there. My aunt and I got home at, like, quarter to eleven, and my mother was anxious because Clover was still in the backyard. It was, of course, pitch black and icy cold, so we had to leave her out for the night. In the morning, she hadn't turned up. We figured she would have tucked herself under the deck or something at night, and in the morning heave her furry, shivering cold butt up onto the porch. But she didn't. And there are two holes in the fence that she could slip through, but never has before. But I guess we couldn't give her the benefit of the doubt. My mom was devastated. She really loved Clover, even though no one else really did.

What makes me most torn up is how she disappeared. It's not like she was a nuisance and we had to sell her to a nice home. It's not even like, if a pet gets sick or hurt and you have to put it to sleep. I hate when animals vanish, it's just so open-ended. Clover wouldn't go wild. She's too domestic. She'd probably just slip out the fence, not smart enough to realize the world doesn't really belong to her. She would hop around, and slowly would realize her mommy wouldn't rescue her. She'd creep around on frost-bitten toes, finally curling up somewhere and try in vain to stay warm. I don't know if she'd slip off to sleep and not wake up, the cold taking her away, frost beading in her fur, or if some cat/dog would get her. I don't like to think about it. It's awful.

I suppose there's a tiny sliver of a chance she'd come home. But it's been twenty-four hours. That's a long time, for a little bunny. She's gone.

And that really, really, sucks.

This is Mom and her bunny, Clover.

I feel kind of bad posting about how terrible it is that our bunny is gone when more serious things go on. My aunt, grandma, and cousin are all visiting for the weekend. My auntie Lesley lost a child in September, Kane. Fourteen month old baby. That's truly horrible. She is still dealing with it, as is my uncle Jordan and cousin Mathew.

I don't know what to hope for, with Clover, though. Do I hope for her to come home? Find somewhere warm, and scavenge for a little while? Have a quick painless death? There's nothing to do but say goodbye. Just like I had to say to Kane, too early.

Bye, Clover. We love you.

110th Post

2009-11-15T22:59:00.002-06:00

I really have nothing to say. I just haven't posted in a while.

NaNo count=14552 words. Not bad. Better than last year's: 6075. When all was said and done.

Anyways, I sent my first NaNo mail to Stephanie Perkins. And she sent me MY first message. And I replied to her. ALSO my first reply!!

So many firsts. I haven't been getting much sleep. I write best at night. So I tell myself. I have a bad habit of coming home from school, lazing here and there, eating and reading...making supper...homework...activities, sometimes, in there...then it's ten thirty and I need to write still. Oops.

I went to my first 4H meeting today. Light Horse. We're moving to an acreage! Yay! It will be fun. I've always wanted a horse.

I want to post my photography! I have quite a few decent photos now. I like to edit, especially. I'm not so much for raw photos of nature. I like editing. Playing with color, focal black and white, soften around the edges. Fun.

I made peanut butter cookies.

Emilee added this in a comment on Kiersten White's blog. I chuckled.

Do, it's what buys the beer
Ray, the guy that serves the beer,
Me, the one who drinks the beer,
Fa, a long long way to get the beer,
So, I'll have another beer,
La, just give me another beer,
Ti, no, I'll have another beer,
That brings us back to do do do do dooooo, you do have more beer money, right?

HA HA. Sound of Music... Maria the alcoholic. Who is also a nun. How does that work?

Horses and writing and beer and cookies. My life, as of this moment.

Recent Bulletins

2009-11-03T22:20:00.002-06:00

Extra! Extra! Please note that in the past...er...amount of time that jckandy has last posted, she has accomplished the following:

doubled her NaNoWriMo word count (2050 to 4635. In 24 hours. If I can double that tomorrow, how long will it take me to complete my novel?)
Received a 92 average for her report card. (I also got 100 average in French and Computers...didn't see that one coming. 94 in ELA, as well.)
Played a cruddy game of volleyball. (That I played. I mostly sat on the bench, which was lame, mainly because I am in grade eight and a younger team player, and conveniently the only extra middle.)
Acquired a tall stack of reading material from her father's classroom. (In them includes plays and Stephen King novels.)
Went to band. (Enough said.)
...

ATTENTION! jckandy is OFFICIALLY tired of writing about herself in third person!

Really, I am. It's tiring.

I just read this truly hysterical quote on Laini Taylor's blog post. It made me chuckle.

"Cats aren't clean. They're just covered in cat spit."

HA HA HA HA HA! I hate when people write ha ha ha ha ha ha over the 'net. It seems so fake. It has no ring of real laughter. It's horrible.

HA HA HA HA.

I hate myself.

Anyways, I fer-shizz let out a chuckle when I read that quote. A real chuckle! It just doesn't seem real.

I'm happy right now. I'm listening to Journey. How can one not be happy when listening to "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey?

Answer: Hitler.

I decided to break from Miriam's Isle. Even though I didn't really work on it much. I'm writing Clarabelle right now. It's surprisingly easy to spew forth my ideas. I think it's because I've had these plans cooking inside of me for so long, they're all pent-up with no place to flow. Now they're flowing. And I haven't even got to the middle, where the juicy stuff happens. However, it's taken me 2 days to write 16 pages. I basically doubled the writing I had. It was kind of a rude awakening, how time-consuming it is to actually, physically, SQUEEZE out the words and type them on the page and punctuate, page by page by page. It really shouldn't be a shock.

Don't stop, believin', hold on to that feelin! Street lights, people...

MY SONG IS OVER. I think I'll go cry.

NaNoWriMo

2009-11-01T13:30:00.002-06:00

National Novel Writing Month. (see, NAtionalNOvelWRItingMOnth. It's clever.)

I know, technically, you should be taking a fresh idea and taking a nice month to splurt it all out and be left with a full, crappy, ugly manuscript. I will be, as of now, taking a break from mermaids and moving on to vampires. I know, vampires are kind of lame now. I feel they're on their way out. If only I had completed Clarabelle before. A year earlier. It would have published, with the vampire wave. But I didn't. Anyways, it's different. It's a different age group. A different story. With a Twilight analogy, more like Alice's and Bella's relationship. Not a romantic one.

Last night I went to a Halloween party. It was fairly tame. We watched Children of the Corn. It was strange and twisted. A bunch of Jesus freaks in a warped cult, led by this nine year old prophet kill all adult sinners. I liked it, though. It's like, my first horror movie.

Happy Halloween.

H1N1

2009-10-29T13:21:00.002-06:00

I don't have it. Not yet.

However, I am indeed ILL. It is not fun, not fun at all. Particularly not with all of my current activities going on. Yesterday I woke up and felt like crap. I went to school. I still felt like crap. I wrote an incredibly easy current events test, except I didn't want to study last night so it was hard. It was pathetic. The EA in my classroom, Mrs. M, commented that I looked ill. She talked to my father, who is a teacher at the high school. He told me to go home. And I did. I had a gross cough which ripped my ab muscles in half every time I coughed, because we had a fitness test on Monday. I died a little. Plus, my brain felt like swollen mucus and dizzy and heavy. I watched Harry Potter number one, the Philosopher's Stone, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed laughing at how young Daniel Radcliffe looked. Hermione had bushy hair with little curl, just bush. With bangs. Ron just looked the same, mostly. He's a red-head baby face. He always looks the same. He's such a cutie.

Aw...they are so cute.

In my school's haunted house, I am a tour guide. I was nervous about it. Now, however, I'm sick.I hope I can still go to it. Even if they get another tour guide. I can be a random body, or someone. It'll be fun.

I couldn't go back to school the afternoon. I felt gross.

I am getting educated in eighties music. It's grand.

My New Blog!!

2009-10-26T21:37:00.003-06:00

Yes, I made another new blog. I tend to do that a lot, don't I?

No promises on staying faithful. But...even I find it cool.

Anyone remember Clarabelle? That was the tentative title of one of my novels. But I chose to work on Miriam's Isle, instead. Which, by the way, is going badly. I think I did ten pages of revisions before I gave up. But not for good. I'm just really busy right now in the school year. I'll have to work it in. I mean, I didn't go on my laptop at all last week. That's a record. For me.

Anyways: Clarabelle. My vampire chick. She has another blog! Only it's not like the one where I decided to post chapters. It is like Clarabelle has her own blog. You can check it out at http://weeping-tears-of-blood.blogspot.com for what she has going on.

Also, I figured when I actually write Clarabelle, I can use the blog for the tidbits to stick in the novel. Please check it out, and post a comment under "Rants". I'm excited about this!

And now I have to study for a Francais test. Est-ce que je peux ouvrir fenetre?

I forget what it means. I really need to study.
Something about a window. Can I Open A Window. Apparently that is a mandatory sentence.

(P.S. My new passion is 80's music. Elton John, Bruce Springsteen, Michael Jackson, White Snake, Duran Duran. It's all good.)

Blossoming Love

2009-10-23T22:29:00.002-06:00

I understand now. True love. I have found it, and I have the symptoms. Racing heart, dreamy feeling/expression, and the unconquerable urge to be near them at all times.

"Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey=my true love <3.

My garage band teacher, Mr. M, is educating the whole band in vintage music. Classic rock. On the keyboard, I can now chord for Sweet Home Alabama, Hotel California, Brianna, and this other French song we're playing for the two French-exchange students from Quebec in our class. Alex sings and is also the volleyball captain, and Guilliame (francais for William, I think) rocks out on guitar. Especially the guitar solo in Hotel California.

I love high school so much. It's glorious. I play flute in band, keyboard in g-band, and I had the lead in Junior Drama, which we performed x3 last Tuesday. Schoolwork is going pretty good. I'm a generally good student, but I was struggling with organization. My binders aren't a hellhole of papers, exactly, but if I have an SRC meeting or volleyball game after school I tend to forget my homework. For me, school is more challenging with organization than work.

Oh. We're moving. We're selling our house in town to move to an acreage. I have mixed feelings about it. I'm not opposed, but I'm not peeing myself in glee, either. My room has bigger windows, which is nice. My room now has a tiny, prison hole window in the corner. It's depressing. Also, I bought new bedroom furniture from Ikea during Thanksgiving weekend in Calgary. It's dark, black-brown Hemnes and is rather enchante. However, since we're moving someday, I can't construct it in my room if we're just going to pack it back up. So I'll be glad to get that back up. Also, I will like being able to have a horse. I love horses and riding them. The girls in my family, my lil' sister Kloey especially, is salivating for a horse to ride. Landon wants a quad. Carson wants Lego. I want a goat. They're so charming. However, they're munchy. So the odds are questionable.

There are things I'll miss about town. There are things I'll adore about the acreage. It will be exciting to move. Also, this will be a good lesson for me. In working.

My New and Awesome Playlist:

OLD SCHOOL

Don't Stop Believin'
Hotel California
Time Warp
Jessie's Girl
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
Africa
Juke Box Hero
Sweet Child O' Mine
Billie Jean

I learned that Africa is a remake of an old song.

I love music. I can't imagine a world without it. I can't imagine someone who doesn't like music. Heck, I can't imagine someone who can't make music. I have been able to read notes since I could read, practically. I feel sorry for people who can't. I have such a mishmash of songs on my iPod. It's glorious. Phantom, Foreigner, Sound of Music, Grease...plus modern songs, like Papparazzi, Lovestruck, Avril Lavigne and Taylor Swift. I love most kinds of music.

I'm going to Chorus Line tomorrow. I don't know much about it. Should be fantastic. Haven't seen a musical since Phantom of the Opera. I doubt it'll be quite that marvelous, but you never know.

Okay. I do know. It won't be as good as Phantom. It could be close.

Good-b--

IN MEMORY OF SWIFFER WETJET

My plocaustomus died today. For a bottom-feeding algae sucker, he was a kind-hearted fish and was as attractive as they come.

Fish #8 hit the toilet today. Ouch.

However, Christine, Coraline, and Sephora are still kickin' it. YAY.

Busy, Busy, Buzzlebee

2009-10-15T20:20:00.002-06:00

That's what I am. A busy, busy, buzzlebee.You know, like bumble. Minus the mb. Plus zz.

A variety of extra-curriculur activities are clashing currently:

Volleyball
Dance
SRC
Junior Drama
Schoolwork

Well, I guess that school isn't extracurriculur. But it is an activity.

I'm a Member At Large on the SRC, which is like SRC except you have less responsibilities. Sometimes. Depends on the M.A.L. Anyways, today, I went to school at eight thirty, and forgot my volleyball jersey. I had French, which I am not, and Social, which is a horrible eighth-grade curriculum, and Art, where I was able to chill. A little. Plus, I bought a Diet Pepsi with my friend at ten minute-break. Diet Pepsi makes life a little fizzier and fresh.

During lunch, I ate food and drank Pepsi while struggling with my lines during drama rehearsal. We were reviewing the end, and I do NOT know those lines. Not very well. I have a lot of lines. I'm like, one of the main characters. I like Junior Drama, do not get me wrong, but it is getting intense, because we're performing on Tuesday and we all suck. Somewhat.

After lunch, math dragged on with a substitute teacher (who's a nice teacher and everything, it's just, well, math. Pythagorean theorisms, anyone?) and then ELA, where we did an artistic project that was glorious. I'm rather proud of mine. I will post it up here, when I'm done, maybe. Finally, the bell rang. Most people got to trek home, jolly and free. I had to scramble back home and search for my volleyball jersey (my daddy, a high school teacher, took pity on me and gave me a ride, though) and scramble back. Then we warmed up for volleyball before the other team came, except we had two teams coming and we were seperated into groups, and I didn't actually play until, like, five thirty.

And then, of course, enter dance. Our tap dance was moved up to five o'clock. A sweet, bouncy eighties-ish song called "Mm Bop" or something, it's pretty fun. I had to leave ten minutes early to jog back to the high school and slide into my knee pads and play the end of a volleyball set. Nothing worth noting happened.

I went home. I ate. I sat on my butt. It was awesome.

I did my papers, which was not. Except I had my iPod. So that brightened the wet, dark streets considerably. But now, I'm feeling really sick and crabby and tired and crabby and tired and I have homework AND a health test to study for. When I really want to go curl up and die. Or at least down some Gravol and sleep for ten hours. But I can't. I would love to be sick and sleep all day tomorrow, but I can't.

I can't get sick now. I can't get sick till Wednesday. I have to go to school and get through my test and two band classes and get my costume together and go to a Volleyball tournament on Saturday and come back early for a two-hour drama rehearsal and then go to two more drama practices on Sunday, then do a complete dress rehearsal on Monday after school (I also have an SRC meeting AND vball practice after school) and then do three performances on Tuesday and go home and THEN I can get sick.

I really don't have time for blogging at all. But I wanted to.

Strangely, although I've never been this busy in my life, I am enjoying it. I am deeply enjoying high school life.

Ciao, bella.

BEST VIDEO EVAH

2009-10-07T18:20:00.002-06:00

Hemhem. Yes. A video of myself. An example of the glory of still pictured videos.

<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lX-tAIwEYog#watch-main-area>

Spooky

2009-10-07T07:41:00.003-06:00

I'm a "Member at Large" on the SRC this year, and we're following the tradition of last year's Haunted House. Last year, they set up the gym divided into different sections and took the high school and elementary school classes through it. There were mixed reactions. There were fifth-graders who chuckled, tenth-graders who left halfway through, and eleventh-graders who ran up to the zombies, shouting, "Wanna be homies?"

I was a zombie, by the way. Even though I was in Elementary school last year, the executive SRC members (I was secretary) were needed to be actors. Last years' setup was a 'haunted school'. There was a cafeteria where someone fell into the meat grinder, a science lab where a body followed you with bloody neck wounds, a classroom with bodies littered around, etc, etc. I was a zombie, so I was in a coffin on the football field. The players that never went home. It was lit with an eerie greenish light, and the teachers were explaining the history of the field to the kids. Us zombies would slowly rise from our coffins and limp over. The class was then shepherded into these doors and led out through the boiler room, which is creepy by itself, but there were hidden people in the dark. The rest of the time, I played solitaire on my iPod. I had a whole stash of stuff in my coffin. It was grand.

This year, we were going for a haunted town. I don't wanna give too much away, in case someone from my school finds it and blabs, but I get to write the background story! You know, the plotline, history sort of thing. It was really interesting. We have another meeting today. I'm really excited about it. Since I'm just a freshie, I'll probably be cast in a 'lame' roll, since the older kids generally take the good ones, but I'm hoping since I'm in drama I might have some lines or something. Truthfully, in voting, I was rooting for an abandoned circus, since clowns frighten me, and so does circus music, but this is great.

Mwa ha ha ha ha.

Volleyball Tourney

2009-10-03T15:11:00.003-06:00

So. I am in the library of my school, blogging on a Saturday. My head is buzzing from the cross-court noise of the gym.

So. My team sucks. We lost every game. And every set. Except for one set, I think. I did okay. Our coach is great. Shelby R makes us laugh. She graduated last year, and found her old locker, which is one of my BFF's, Kensey's, locker this year. It has some pervotical graffitti. So charming.

A diet Pepsi would be extremely lovely right now.

Today Appears to be a Special Day

2009-09-27T12:01:00.004-06:00

It appears to be Blogger's birthday. I made this brilliant deduction when I saw a piece of birthday cake on the Blogger logo.

Happy Birthday, darling. And may you have many more.

Griping

2009-09-26T16:35:00.004-06:00

We had to work outside today. I hate working outside. Normally, I get all puffed up and defensive about "female rights" and stereotypes and prejudice, but the truth is: if, in a decade or so, I am married, I shall be perfectly happy to let Hubby
Mow the lawn
Tend the garden
Chop the wood
Any other activities, such as wood building. Like, rabbit cages. And garbage can holders.

I would help paint, though. I'm not the greatest artist in the world, but I did make a gorgeous mural on our outside fridge at our cabin. I think it'd be cool to have a muraled house. Or, like, one wall muraled. Or a door, or fridge, or something. If my husband's an artist like Laini Taylor's, maybe we could have one random wall with nothing on it and just continually paint it! wouldn't that be darling? I think it would.

The fact remains, however, that while some people prefer to be in the fresh air and feel alive, I am rather fine with being inside and cooking. Or dusting. Or reorganizing.

I have an obsession with reorganizing. It's weird. I'm not even neat. But at school, I reorganize my locker every ten-minute break. I recently moved some furniture in my room and banished my keyboard. I took it to school, so I could join Mr. M's garage band. Plus I wanna do some vocalage. That would be exciting.

Anyways, we did do some of my preferred housework. But then we went to the garden. We dug potatoes. UGH! I absolutely despise the rough, spine-tingling, unpleasant grating of dirt-on-dirt caked fingers. I kept my fingers far apart from each other, splayed like a high-five. Plus, I prefer not to crouch down, because my knees are somewhat screwed up. Patellafemoral syndrome, I may have mentioned it. It sucks BUTT. So my roll gradually became standing on the edge of the garden while my parents dug and my siblings lobbed the fat potato tanks at me. I enjoyed putting my fantastic ball skills and handeye coordination to work. I caught two in my left hand (glove hand) AT THE SAME TIME. It made me feel cool. Then we had to pitchfork weed piles to a big compost pile. It was not fun. Looking over the garden when we finished, I didn't exactly feel a lot of pride. Our garden, formerly...chlorophylly (I wouldn't call it "lush) and planty and busy and somewhat alive was now just savaged dirt. It looked like some kind of hellhole. I was glad only that it was over.

I'm making it sound worse than it was, though. My family and I had "stimulating conversation". Really, we did. It was enjoyable. And after a while, the only unpleasantness was when I forgot my state of hygiene and rubbed my fingers together, resulting in a creeping, restless spine. YUG. I was relieved it was over and could scrub myself. I like feeling cool and clean.

How do you like to feel? That sounds weird. But I hope you'll figure out what I mean. What I want to ask is, what makes you happiest? Do you like feeling warm and cozy and contained, wrapped in a blanket before a fire and TV? Do you like the hot, wrung-out, elastic exhaustion after a good workout? Do you like a bubbling hot tub, the cool tranquility of a pool or lake at night, the flexible relaxation after stretching? Personally, I like sort of a combination. Like, exercise/stretching and a hot shower ended with a blast of cool. I like the feeling of cool, damp, brushed hair.

I was reading Tati's blog today. I love her photos. I like taking pictures, too, but not with the dedication some people have. My favorite part of pictures is the editing process! Some people

take a picture and tweak a bit of the lighting and curves for optimum brightness. Like this.

Mr. Tina, our Squirrel Friend.

I might take a photo like this...

And make it into this!

See? Before it just looked like Carson, dude with eccentricities. Now it looks like Carson, universal manager. Better, right?

I would post more, but as you can probably see, I have an inability to post pictures without screwing up the rest of my post. I should do pictures first and work around the rest. I bet that would work. Frick, that would work beautifully. I'm stupid.

But what else is new, right?

Ha ha. My family is looking for an acreage. We want to live on an acreage. That might be nice. Kloey wants a horse. Carson wants a minquad. Landon wants a dirt bike. I want a goat.

What do goats do, you might ask?

Well.

I will just tell you.

They give MILK, gosh darn it. MILK. Plus they eat those little ice cream cones filled up with what looks like bird food that people give you at petting zoos. Plus they're so cute. Also, I figure, that if we live in the middle of nowhere, we can get kittens, play with them, and raise them. And when they're fat and big and not cute anymore, we can banish them to the great outdoors! Then they can drink goat milk. I ran this idea by my mother and she said we sould have an explosion of cats. Well now. Why don't we all get MALE cats? Male cats rarely become pregnant. Plus, they can always get into a fight and kill each other when there's too many of them. Female cats would not only get knocked up, but they would also never fight. Never. They're too ladylike. ;-)

Current favorite songs:

Billie Jean by Michael Jackson
Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus
Fireflies by Owl City
Bucket by Carly Rae Jepsen
You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift
All To Myself by Marianas Trench
I Write Sins Not Tragedies by Panic! At the Disco
Time Warp by Rocky Horror Pictures
Drive my Soul by Lights
Time is Running Out by Muse
Spiderman Theme (Junkie XL Remix) by Michael Buble

A great movie=Race to Witch Mountain. Seth is hot. He is a hot alien. Plus he can control his molecular density and slide through solid objects. Also he can withstand great impact. He slid through a moving car, landing on the road, and stood stonily in the middle of the road. An FBI van slammed right into him and kersploded, and Seth just stood there.

It was the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life.

Never mind what I said about screwed up posts. I fixed it. Now it is gorgeous.

I wanted to say something else, but I forget.

In Memory of Kane

2009-09-24T07:42:00.005-06:00

I still do not have a Facebook account. But, on my dad's account, I went to my aunt's page. There, I found pictures of my cousin, Kane, who died recently. He is the cutest kid in the world. I want to edit them and make a collage. I was just gonna make a Kane collage, but when I saw my other cousin, Mathew, I think I need to make a Matt collage as well. Both my cousins are just so blessed in the looks area. Matt's gonna be a little heartbreaker.

Aw...he looks so serious.
Brotherly Fun!!

Is this not the cutest picture in the world?

Cutest little Halloween bat I've ever seen!

This is hands-down the best picture of all time.

Clubbin'

2009-09-22T18:50:00.004-06:00

I'm going clubbin' tonight.

From seven until ten is my first HIGH SCHOOL DANCE. Different from the gimpy wannabes of elementary (no offense), there is to be a social involved. With cards. And cookies. And such. Plus they drag down the Coffins and have lights and an actual music system.

Today at lunch I bought tickets. I handed Kyra the money and forgot to take the ticket, so I had to come back and get it. Later.

I'm typing extremely carefully due to the layers of fresh, glistening cheap navy polish on my nails. No, I'm not a girlygirly who spends nine hours fixing herself. But I do enjoy primping myself up before big events. It goes like this.

Pick an outfit

Pick another outfit

Carefully glue each individual curl into perfection

Put on foundation

Put on too much eyeshadow.

Take it off.

Do it again.

And again.

Then do it right.

Line one eye

And fix it

Again

And again

Then the other eye

Miss

And repeat.

Slather lips with beloved CHAPSTICK because gloss comes off

Put on too much perfume and be embarrassed all night.

Ha ha. Kidding.

I did use hair gel and stuff, but I have good aim. Ha.

In drama practice today, we actually used a "stage". I have my lines memorized from pages 5-16. Mostly.

Tomorrow I have an orthodontist appointment, but I have to be back in town by 3:15 because we have an SRC meeting. I'm the grade 8B Room Rep, along with three others.

Thursday is Band, I think.

And Friday is Free Hug Day, brought to you by the Grade 8B!!! We wear stupid signs and run around and shell out the love in an act of proclamation. We are trying to promote that freshies are not shy and have good hygiene. We all need little signs taped to us. I have a Free Hugs shirt, as well, so I'm wearing it. I bought it with three other friends at the same time, then this annoying girl bought the same one to copy us. Loser. My sign that I made says:

"Hug the Ug

Ly Kid"

And in little letters at the bottom: "Out of Pure Sympathy."

~

2009-09-15T21:56:00.004-06:00

Whoa. For some reason, three quarters of the gadgets are gone off the top of the blog posting box. That's strange. Plus, the font it types out in is courier new. I'm scared!

But guess what? When I was in Calgary, dealing with my family crap, I was shallowly torn up over the fact that I was going to miss auditions for junior drama. My dad worked out something with Mrs. W, and she said she'd have a part for me when I got back. I was only halfway okay with this. I mean, it would have been nice to have the audition and everything. The real deal. Plus, the part I would procure would be most likely lame. Don't mean to brag, but I'd probably have a pretty decent chance at getting a good part if I auditioned. Which I couldn't!

But the dear, sweet, kind drama teachers didn't cast till I got back!! How cool are they?? I vow to love teachers for the rest of my life. Forever. I have to. (My parents are teachers.) I did my auditions and they posted the list. I HAD A PART.

But I was confused. In the play, there's the main guy who does most of the talking. The complicated plotline is that a teenager Judson Watson, a GUY, lands in the Tulgey Wood between Wonderland and Oz. And of course he didn't do his book report. He tried to watch The Wizard of Oz, but his stingy dad kicked him out. He started to read Alice in Wonderland, but fell asleep. And is now in the middle of an "incredible dream!"

The other characters include: Dorothy, Alice, Scarecrow, Lion, Tin Man, White Rabbit, Mad Hatter, Dormouse (no idea where he comes in, but he's cool anyway) and the two rulers. The Queen of Hearts and the Wicked Witch of the West. And who did I get cast as?

Yep. Judson. The GUY.

When I first looked at the list, I was utterly befuddled. There I was, near the top of the list, but it said: "Jacey...Jacey." (They spelled my name wrong, those flying monkeys.) So I'm standing there, going all, I am MYSELF?? But then my friend Aaleah (the dormouse) goes, "Oh, you're JUDSON!!" And then I was pleased. I didn't want to use my actual name, cause that's weird, but I came around to the idea. He's--SHE, now--is pretty much the main character. I have a lot of lines. Like, four paragraphs at the beginning of the play.

We had rehearsal at lunch. But it was really more of a read-through. I felt a little awkward, though--the girls playing Dorothy and Alice, who are also main characters with lots of lines--are in tenth grade. I'm just a dipstick Freshie. So it was kind of uncomfortable. Weirdly, though, I never actually looked at them throughout the readthrough. I just heard their voices.

SOOOoooo I'm happy. Mostly. Because my iTunes is fixed for REAL. Since I downloaded it: like, six months ago: at inconsistent exits and restarts of my laptop my songs and playlists would be WIPED clean from it. I could dig them out of the computer, but it was annoying. I LIKE PLAYLiSTS! I was determined it was a Vista problem, but it turned out to be a Sony Vaio screwup. I bought, like, ten songs in the past few days. I'm running out of iTunes cash. Jehsyka, I bought half the songs on your playlist. LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!

Plus I bought the Spiderman song.

Okay, blogger is being really weird. It's like oldschool. When I tried to do italics, a little HTML thing popped up. And there's no colors or anything. And when I inserted the link to Jehsyka's playlist, weird things came up.

HELP, I'M SO AFRAID. Is your Blogger acting up?

How can this be happening?

2009-09-10T21:24:00.004-06:00

Really, it's hard to imagine that any of this past six days has been real.

This Friday, we went up to my cabin to spend September long weekend. I was excited for the next week back at school. I had a cross country schedule and a script to study for drama auditions on Tuesday. That occupied all of my mind.

Then we got a phone call. My 14-month-old cousin, Kane, was in the intensive ward of the hospital. They didn't know what he had. We didn't know what was about to happen.

Then we got another phone call. We learned that baby Kane, my sweet, darling, baby cousin, wasn't going to make it.

Those next minutes were the worst of my life. My whole family was crying as we hugged each other. Except for me. I wanted to, but somehow, I just couldn't cry. We had to go to Calgary immediately. Except we just had three days worth of clothes. Our new plan was to meet our aunt in Saskatoon, and then travel on to Calgary. Auntie Char would bring us more clothes. We all packed, sniffling and dazed. As I was lugging my stuff out to the truck, that's when it hit me. I started to sob. It was so horrible.

We spent a good nine, ten hours in the suburban that day. Lots of the way was silent and sad. Towards the end, however, we got a little silly. We made a picture depicting our love of salad. We also made a song. I'll post the picture.

After so many hours cooped up in the truck, it didn't seem real that our baby cousin was dying. How could he? It was Kane. Kane was the sweetest, most perfect baby ever.

Around ten, we got to the hospital. A big, colorful builidng that seemed ironically cheerful. We had to clean our hands with sanitizer. And we saw Kane, and he looked so small in the hospital bed. He had a tube in his nose and a breathing tube bandaged to his mouth. The rest of the tubes were covered by a colorful fish blanket. He had grown a lot since we had last seen him, in February. My aunt and uncle were holding up fairly well, considering, you know. That they were losing a child.

The trouble was in Kane's tiny brain. If you tickled his feet, he would twitch his legs or shrug his shoulders. He was still there. He was still with us.

That night we stopped at about ten hotels looking for an open one. But they were clogged due to September long and some skills competition. We ended up pulling up at some Best Western in Strathmore. We left the next morning.

For the next two days, we stayed in a Comfort Inn with a pool and waterslide. Our cousin, Mathew, stayed with us. We visited Kane during the day. In the morning and night, we swam in the pool.

Kane was increasingly non-responsive. You could feel it in the room, he wasn't with us anymore. His body was trapped in that stuffy room, but we thought his spirit was just above us, watching. It's like when people die briefly and come back to life. Kane wasn't really there. It was awful, but in a way, I wished he could be free.

The next day, he hadn't improved. We said good-bye to him for the last time. I couldn't help crying behind my stuffy mask. I kissed his sweet slack face, twice, and ruffled his soft baby hair. He was so peaceful looking.

My mom and I cried outside on the bench. My whole family is Catholic, and we strongly believe that Kane was going to be safe. Kane wasn't dying, exactly. He was being set free. He was going to be in a much better place than us. Also, in a way, he was much luckier than us. He didn't have to know all the bad things in the word. He'd never experience a crushed ego, or heartbreak, or face something horrific. All he knew was love and trust. My grandpa was going to take care of little Kane.

When we stood up to go for a little walk, we saw a rabbit. A huge, fat, gray bunny, just sitting plain as day on the hospital grounds. He hopped idly to the empty playground, and he just sat there. Then he ran off. This was an act of God. The sight of that sweet, fluffy bunny hopping around made me smile.

Kane Alexander Steenson died at 11:10 pm. They removed the respirator, and his heart beat only a few more times, and then he slipped off peacefully. My aunt and uncle held him. They were with him the whole time.

We moved to our second cousin's house. It's big and beautiful. Danna, my dad's cousin, is great. We hadn't met her before. Meghan is a year older than me, and she's hilariously great. Paul is twenty or something, and he lives at home and works. Even though the circumstances are horrific, I'm really glad I had the chance to meet my cousins.

Kane was cremated, and his funeral is on Friday at three o'clock. My uncle prepared a half-hour presentation with pictures and videos of Kane. My dad and Kane's aunt, Lisa, prepared a eulogy. It's so wrong that he was with us for only fourteen months, but most people would never even get that long with such a boy as Kane. So in a way, we're lucky.

I "interviewed" Kane's brother, Mathew, my cousin, about memories. Here are some that I remember:

When Matt was showering, Kane crawled in and shocked him by peeking into the shower.
Kane loved his two puppies, Sadey and Lelik, and would toddle over to Lelik (golden retriever) and grab his fur with two hands and bury his face into his side.
He loved to splash in the hot tub.
While Matt was playing video games, Kane would attack him by jumping on him.
Kane loved to play with the garden hose and fill up his pool.
If someone held his hands, he would jump on the trampoline.
He liked to play/eat sand.

Sadly, we didn't know Kane very well, but here are some of my memories:

At Christmas, five months old, you only had to look at him and he would grin.
He loved all animals.
We sat him up on the bread machine, and he loved the vibration.
On media player, while I was playing a CD, he was mesmerized by the swirling patterns.

Kane was the best baby in the entire world, and it is so cruel that he had such a short time with us. I love you, Kane. Kanerinsky. Kane of the Jungle. Rest in peace: we love you forever.

Lesson Learned

2009-09-01T22:48:00.002-06:00

Second day of High School. We actually did a little work, which I enjoyed. Too much, I think. A page of French notes was a little too thrilling. I need to expand my social network.

We have a class called Arts Ed, with my homeroom teacher Mrs. B. Our first project is decorating our portfolios, which is a fancy name for a big piece of paper folded in half and stapled in place. Mrs. B says she wants us to decorate it in a way that lets her know us, because obviously eighth grade is all about being buddies. Most people are slapping down things like DC logos and plates of spaghetti. I was struck with the brilliant artistic idea of making a swoopy thing, dividing it in half, and on one side putting old-fashioned stuff I like and the twenty-first century reflection on the other. For example, in the top left corner is a lovely envelope with a wax seal. In the top right corner is the two little MSN people.

I signed up for Cross Country running. I cannot run. I shall die.

I'm reading "The Book Thief" by Markus someone-or-other. I can't remember. I must say, it's weird, and I don't understand it. Have any of you read it? Does it get better?

My lesson learned today: don't take out your contacts after polishing your flute. The pre-silver-polished cloth will haunt your fingertips and burn your eyeballs out. Don't do it.

Bottom of the Food Chain

2009-08-31T20:33:00.002-06:00

That's where I am right now. "Fresh Bait," is what some of the big, scary seniors were calling us today. But I don't really care, because I'm in high school now!!!

YEA! It was a very awesome, interesting day today. I entered the school with some of my friends. Kensey and Aaleah and I were too frightened to go by ourself. Because honey, that's just askin' for it. We all went to Kensey's before school, because we were there by like, eight fifteen, because we were hyper. Kensey's parents were at work, so I mused aloud: "You know, it seems a tad dangerous, doesn't it? Three out-of-control freshies ALONE in this fragile house?"

They agreed. All summer I had been bopping up and down with hyperactivity and bubbling excitement for high school. But I must confess, I was nervous as I walked up there. It was kind of uncomfortable strolling the hallways. Although we weren't really "strolling". We were kind of walking quickly with our shoulders all tensed up. Kensey was in a different homeroom. But it wasn't really frightening, because our school is fairly small. 160 students. We know everyone. Plus, my parents are teachers--kindergarten and 11-12 ELA--so most of the teachers have came and partied at our house. It's a little weird, but not bad.

Aaleah and I were in Mrs. B's room. I'm initialling, because I don't wanna be held responsible for cyber-stalking and whatnot. So, we hung out in the classrooms, because we're not cool enough to roam the hallways.

Yet.

Mrs. B gave us about six different colored papers, and then handed out our locker combos. We practiced on them. It was hard. Maybe I'm just a dork. Or unintelligent. Probably. But anyways, Aaleah is right next to me, which we thought was cool until we both tried to put our stuff into our lockers at the same time. Bang, bang, rattle-bing-bang. Ow.

In ELA, Mrs. T asked if anyone knew the longest word in the English dictionary. I knew it. She asked, and I said tentatively, "floccinaucinihilipilification?"

She smiled. "Can you say that louder?" And I did, and I could spell it, too, but I didn't tell her that. I don't like to show off (huge lie.) Ha ha. She showed us on the board and la-la and then we went to an assembly and the SRC gave us Survival Kits. It was a paper bag with Ivory soap, mini-deodorant, hairspray, female stuff, shampoo, bandaids, and a sucker. I think it's their subtle way of telling us we stink.

In high school, you get an extra-long lunch hour and only five periods all day. Five that are one hour long. There are three in the morning, and two in the afternoon. I love it. It makes the day seem shorter.

In the afternoon, we had PE with Mr. C. He cheerfully guarenteed that we would be in better shape by the end of the year and would also spend a lot of class on conditioning. A.K.A., we're all gonna die. But all we did was play swampball for half the class, and it was fun, though I realized I was in worse shape than I realized. I'm going to hurt. But Mr. C is a firm believer in fitness, and he's been my ball coach before, and he's a cool guy, and fitness is a great thing to do. I don't like it, but I do want to get in better shape.

Last class was Health with Mr. A. We discussed what surprised us about high school, what is better in high school than elementary, and vice versa. Then we did a trick question test, with questions like "how much dirt is in a 3x4x2 hole?"

Obviously, you have to multiply the height by the width and add the length to get the volume. Like, duh.

I know no one actually cares about this, but I figured I'd give you the rundown anyway. I finally settled on a "style" for my blog. I made a new header. I was all inspired after Jehsyka's "Shades of Gray," which I loved. It works for her. But I like dramatic black, but I love color as well.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I want to actually work tomorrow. Have fun at school, all! It really is awesome!

Dragonfly Symmetry

2009-08-27T19:14:00.000-06:00

Dragonfly; flutter by,
Beat your wings in ecstasy.
Quick to live, slow to die,
Life aligning perfectly.

We could learn how to fly
Find out who we want to be.
Start your journey to the sky,
Life aligning perfectly.

Dragonfly, tell us why,
You know to never disagree.
Why you take to the sky
Intent on perfect symmetry.

We must take to the sky
Join the others flying free
We could flow, we could try
To live in perfect symmetry.

Who has any ideas about the meaning and message of the poem? Did you like it? Let me know. (It's my poem, by the way. Just to clear that up.)

The Final Countdown

2009-08-26T13:22:00.002-06:00

So guess what I did last night?
I FINISHED A NOVEL.

And it feels GREAT.

Miriam's Isle was born. Weighing in at 154 pages and 21 chapters, she's but a child. She has a lot of growing up to do. Right now, she's just a sloppy little kid that people tend to coo over for two minutes (oh darling you finished a novel isn't that just nice?) and then turn their backs on. But first, I'm giving myself a bit of mat leave. A month or so with Miria and Tom out of my brain. And then comes the child rearing.

But who cares? Because I DID IT. The first draft (or "exploratory" draft, whatever) is the hardest thing to do. But it is far, far away from the final copy. I'm nervous to begin the revision process, but I'm excited too. I have never really done it before, not on a novel scale. 'Twill be something new.

Probably some of you are snorting and rolling their eyes, because I'm so amateur and childishly excited and proud. Really, the hard work is probably barely begun. All you accomplished people are going to go "get a life it's only a first draft the process has only begun." You know what I say to that?

Go to you-know-where and warm your toes.

Okay, I don't think everyone would be that hard-hearted. But still, I can't help but be proud to have finished my first novel the week before I start high school. I know I'm not the only thirteen year old in the world to have done this, however. Jehsyka did so last summer, and she was a lot more mature about it than I was.

Whatever. I'm in a happy bubble. I would just like to remind ya'll to check out MIRIAM'S ISLE at my Other Blog.

Today in my town a whole bunch of peeps are coming. Some Kraft TSN thing, I forget what it is exactly. We won some money for our dilapidated rink. I am going to go and frolic the crowds and run nude in front of the TV camera. Along with everyone else. Watch for me, guys!

Well, enjoy the rest of your summers. I love having Teacher Parents, because last night I printed off three copies of Miriam's Isle First Draft off a printer that is not mine. It even copies with holes in them. Also, I inconspicuously found a Photocopy goof of my class list. I snuck it home, but I don't like my class. You know how sometimes teachers let you pick out three people you want in your class? I would rather pick three people I DON'T want in my class.

There's a guy who's an obnoxious playuh. I've never been in his class before. So it should be interesting, the way watching a train derail and explode is interesting.

Midsummer Haze

2009-08-10T12:36:00.003-06:00

Blogging life has been slow lately, and I haven't had any action on my Comments page. I thought you cared!! Wah!!

But then again, I can't complain too much. Because I've barely been online, either. My excuse? I don't have Wireless for my laptop up at the cabin. To check my blog, I would have to a) give up watersports time to sit inside, b) fight my way through the lineup to actually reach the computer (I have a big family), c) Wait for 3.5 hours while Google loads up or d) all of the above.

Good news? Miriam's Isle is going awesome! I really have it going along nicely! I have 136 pages AND COUNTING!! I'm really really eager to finally write THE END and to upload it to Lulu and have it bound and published. But I know it won't really happen that fast. Hopefully, the first draft (or "exploratory draft", as Laini Taylor puts it) can be complete by the time school starts. After that, I'm torn. I might want to immediately dive right back into it, adding and subtracting scenes, developing the plot lines a little more, making it perfect. I also might want to just shove it in a drawer for a month and come back later. Perhaps I could do a combination: the burning desire for the finished product might be gone, but I could idly skim through it and ask people's opinions. Give myself a little time off. That would be nice.

Man, I'm excited for school. Jeez. I shouldn't be. But I am! I'm going to high school! It's exciting!

We just had a lot of company up here. One of my cousin's friends, Neva, was also a part of it. I like her. She has a wicked camera, with one of those 2000 dollar telescope lenses or something. The other family visiting, some family friends, also have a photographer daughter, Meghan. We went on a nature walk and she showed me some of her pictures. They were awesome. She has a really good eye.

This inspired me so much I took a bazillion pictures on a solitary walk by myself and also on a boat trip up the creek. I picked and sorted and found about five that turned out nice. I like to edit them on Picasa, making them more interesting. I would LOVE to show em' to you, but THEY'RE ON MY COMPUTER, not the slow family computer. I hate this computer. I hate the crappy moniter and the clacky keyboard.

Oh well. I also decided I want to attempt to find a vintage wardrobe. I did a lot of research on my laptop (there's a tech guy up here that let's us borrow his wireless but he's not here) and I love it. It's so unique. And cheap, if you dig for stuff and thrift stores. I plan on doing that. I mean, at Value Village you can get a lot of stuff for 75 bucks. At another store, you could get a pair of jeans and some socks for the same price.

So, when I figure out how to use an old-fashioned cable to hook up my computer to the 'net, I'll show ya'll my beautiful pictures. It could be later today, actually. I've never made two posts in one day before. That would be interesting.

Bye, all, as I leave you groping for clarity in the midsummer haze.

I DID IT.

2009-07-29T09:29:00.002-06:00

Gah. That title had the wrong effect. Don't be getting uptight, people.

Anyways, I DID IT. I made a Miriam's Isle blog.

I really wish I could make my own templates. I hate blogger templates, they're so lame. BUT I did add my own header thinger, which appears in larger form on the cover. The glory of paint.NET.

I like the blog. I just wish I could have a better template. I even added an ANTI-PIRACY warning, so that people will get scared. I don't know if you actually need a cop license or something to do that. MAYBE I HAVE ONE.

Anyways, if you want to check it out, click here.

Have Fun!

Cleaning Up of Cyberspace

2009-07-28T14:36:00.002-06:00

One time, I had this weird fantasy that probably came from Scott Westerfields' science fiction series, Uglies. I imagined that they cleaned up the internet. Impossible, right? Like, instead of thirty million hits when you google Mars, there will be one site. Everything about Mars will be carefully and accurately written down. Basically, everything will have a site, and the websites would be perfect. Gone with the fake bribe ads and porno popups and websites baring fake info. To get an HTML space, you would need, like, a grant or something. You need a permit, and any bad info you put out will be immediately DISBANDED.

Insane, eh?

I mean, I know it'll probably never really happen, but you can dream. The only way it could actually happen was if someone formed a HUMONGUS international company that constantly monitered the 'net. It just makes me mad to see all of the crap over the internet that can practically corrupt people morally.

I like my cleanups. For someone that is not exactly a neat freak, I sure do like them. I don't like trimming around things, trying in vain to prune it back to near-perfection. I would much rather scrap it all and start fresh. For example (I know it's stupid) The Sims. If my neighborhoods get a little crowded, I don't delete a few families I made on a whim. I delete it. Then I start a new one. Oh, a better example: last spring I cleaned my room. I sorted through all my clothes and miscellaneous crap and threw out two garbage bags of stuff. It felt good to start clean.

That's what I'm doing with my blogs, now. I saved the writing on Clarabelle, just as a Microsoft Word document. I deleted "How To Be Weird" a while ago, because it was stupid anyways. I'm not positive what to do about my literary one--I never post on it, and it's hard to get into a habit that you never had.

I'm considering a "Miriam's Isle" blog. That's the novel I'm seriously working on right now. I mean, just posting bits and pieces would be fun. I would really enjoy getting your feedback on it. What do you think? (I might do it anyways, because I love creating blogs.)

~Heat Wave~

2009-07-25T16:04:00.003-06:00

I love those swirly things. ~~~~~~~~~~
What are they?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Who cares?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, they're getting old now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seriously.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, really, Jc, grow up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God, Jc, get a life outside of swirly things! I'm sick of them and I simply will not put up with them!
~

Gracious, I'm rude. But anyways, it's SOOOOOO hot out today. Killer muggy humid, blankety compressing damp constricting hot. I hate weather like this, because I'm not at the lake!
On a random note, July fifth was the year's anniversary for my blog. :)~~
Ew, my happy face has a beard.
Last year at this time, I was going stir crazy at the lake, not exiled to the coolness of the basement packing. Rawr.

My two fish, Christine and Coraline, have been alive for so long. I'm so proud of them. But guess what? They have to die! My mother suggested I put them in my aunt's pond. I've always liked ponds with fish, but the water is green and opaque, and all of her fish died. Maybe, since they were my fish, they are so tough and hardy they'll survive the pond. But I doubt it.

VOLLEYBLAST!

2009-07-19T09:58:00.002-06:00

My brother Landon's baseball provinicals are coming to a close. They may have a chance of going into the finals!
My family and I are camping right now, and today I have volleyball camp! You're free to sign in from eleven thirty to twelve-forty-five, which is when the camp begins. I'm really excited to be going, but kinda nervous too. I mean, it's highly likely that everyone else will be fanatical skinny people that jog in the morning and can do the six-minute run without dying. I am none of the above. Plus, I'll be the only cripple there. But my volleyball knee pads will probably slide right over my braces, hiding the horror of my deformity. Ha ha, I sound like Le Fantome de la Opera. Who is awesome.
But who knows? I could have a blast. *snork* VolleyBLAST, get it? Har-dee-har-har. I mean, during the school year during volleyball I was, modestly, one of the best players on the team. During practices I would run and cheer and work like no one's business, but I wouldn't even feel my tiredness until we had to leave. Practices were always too short. And I've got a mean spike.
This going to be a cool new experience! Whee!!
P.S. Off topic, but I'm learning how to play guitar. I'm using my brother's guitar and book, and I'm just teaching myself. It's easier than I thought, though my fingers are practically bleeding when I'm done.

Events Past and Yet To Come

2009-07-15T21:37:00.012-06:00

So, the first past event would be my provincials. I played with another team. The reason why is because on my team, there were twelve girls picked to go to provincials, and I was fourteenth. So, the remaining six of us joined up with four other girls and voila, we had a new team.

But...we kinda sucked.

We lost every game. All three of them. The weather was miserable and rainy. One of the games was 16-0. Ouch.

But there were good parts, too. I was fourth in the batting lineup--that's the cleanup hitter, and that's the best place to be. Statistically, I hit the best on the team. But one of my friends, Beth, hit a double AND a triple. But then she just struck out the rest of the time. I got lame hits, but I usually made it to first. I sliced up my left leg sliding, too. The fun.

Also, I had a great time. Even though we suck, everyone's really friendly and we all had a good time. And finally, the Tisdale sign, where provincials were played, was hilarious.

Yes, this is the sign. "Land of Rape and Honey." Isn't that welcoming?

There is truth behind it, I learned. "Rape" is an old word for canola or something. One of the coaches told me that when I announced the motto for the town.

Plus, my sister's Squirt team won provincials. I was a Squirt last year, and we won. That makes Bill, the coach, a two-time provincial winner. According to my dad, that's like, legendary. After the game, I went up to him and said, "Two years in a row, eh? Getting old yet?"

He gasped. "What? Uh, yeah, no...wait! It never gets old!"

I love making people stumble over their words. I smiled and walked away.

Anyways, we're finally at the cabin! Yesterday was really cold, howevah. I had to wear pants. Not shorts. PANTS. And yes, I still went swimming. Duh.

Today was better. Way better. My nineteen year old cousin Brittany came. It was warm enough to swim. We launched the Sea-Doo, Frank, and I got to drive it back home from the compound. We went tubing. And the weirdest of all, we met a chipmunk named Tina.

It was the strangest thing. Britt and I were sitting on the swing, drying off, when we heard something coming from under the deck. We craned our necks, and ta-da! There was a small, grayish form scooping out dry grass before disappearing back under the planks.

Britt suggested we feed her, so we went inside and got Fibre One cereal and peanut butter crackers and dill pickle Spitz. We littered them around the opening where the ground squirrel came out. A few minutes later she ran on to the deck. The first thing we noticed that she was really fat. Second was that she is not very shy.

We tossed her peanut butter crackers, and she DEVOURED them. I swear, we were sitting a meter away from a wild animal as she munched away. After a while, Brittany fetched a spoon of peanut butter, which she cleaned. In the end, she ate seven mini crackers and a spoon of peanut butter. I even caught it on video! But I'll give you a picture instead.

Here's a lovely story. When we arrived here, we found that there was a birds' nest built on our deck, right onto our window. After conferring, we got somebody to move it to an old covered well we have beneath our stairs. With heavy hearts, we watched as the frantic parents swooped in circles all day looking for their babies. We were sure they were going to die. Then, da-da-da-DAAA...they found their children!! Now they don't dive-bomb us when we walk onto our deck. They feed their children, stuffing worms into their gaping mouths. It's so cute! And yes, I got pictures.
PS-I know the spacing is weird in this post, but Blogger is weird.

Siiiigh

2009-07-08T20:33:00.002-06:00

I never thought I'd say this, but...

I MISS SCHOOL.

Yesterday at Staples I was searching for a new scribbly notebook (I bought a notebook at McNally Robinsons', but I paid too much money for it and it's too intimidating to write in. I wanted a three dollar notebook with a beautiful, fun cover that I can scribble in and not feel guilty.) I passed all the bins of pens and white-out and locker accessories with LONGING. I LOVE shopping for school supplies. I have no life!!
I just want to go to my cabin. Small town summer life really really sucks.
The pool grows boring, it's raining, and one can consume only so many Koolaid Slushies.
However, the family next door moved in. Rebecca is actually going into ninth grade, so we're not the same age after all. :( However, she's really nice and friendly. We hung out a bit the other day.
I'm sick.
I am playing too much Sims, and I swear I have not written a sentence of Miriam's Isle in a week. I wanted to finish the damn thing!
Here, I'll try and concentrate on the good stuff of summer.

We got a bunny. Randomly. At a petting zoo, bunnies and kittens were only five bucks. My mother walked in, and said, "Jaecy, I think we need a bunny to go with the guinea pigs. Do you think the kindergartners will like her?" I said, "Yes." So we picked a bunny the color of a burnt almond (she's a light brown, with darker fur around her ears and feet.) She's not full grown and incredibly tame and ADORABLE. We named her Clover, to go with Sugar and Spice. They get along, too.
I'm playing in C Provincials with a ball team from another town and some other rejects on my team. I like those dudes. I introduced myself as "Leonard" as things just kinda went downhill from there.
The Sims 3 is really fun, though stupid and time-consuming.
My siblings are playing front-yard baseball at this exact moment, which consists of second base across the street on my neighbor's lawn. And I'm gonna join them.

Whaddya know? I cheered myself up.

I WILL WRITE MIRIAM'S ISLE TONIGHT!!! PROMISE!!!!

Ciao, bella.

School's Out For The Summer!

2009-06-26T13:07:00.003-06:00

As of Wednesday, June 24th, I was no longer a resident of the Elementary School. I
am now (almost) a "High Schooler", as stupid and/or younger kids say.
I really hate when people use terms such as "Grade Sixers," the "Preschoolers," the "Grade Threeers". Especially when peeps my age say that crap.
Also on my list of pet peeves:

"I SEEN". UGGGH!!!! I hate it!! Everyone says it!! And now most of the people I know say it just to annoy me. "I seen this guy..." "At recess I seen..." grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
When people write and use the wrong homonyms. Their, they're, there, your, you're, etc. I also hate the wrong punctuation.
"Funner."
Wrong abbreviations.
Just plain misspellings.
Pickles.
Old grouchy guys that smell funny and seem to run everything.
Snobby women that think they know everything. (Orthodontist nurses, substitute teachers, etc.)
Warm milk. Warm milk is supposed to be soothing. But it tastes like crap.
When people don't brush their hair. It's yucky.

I cleaned my fish tank today. I removed 1/4 of the water, scrubbed their plants and their t.rex skull, and stirred up the yellow and blue rocks littering the bottom with a giant spoon. All their old crud and food stirred up, swishing Christine and Coraline into spinny currents and turning the water opaque. So I left them, and let the filter do the job.

Yesterday at swimming lessons I got to swim in my clothes. It was fun. Except it thundered, so we all had to get out. Wet, too-tight shorts riding up your butt as you sit on the grimy ground talking about hypothermia is not a glorious experience.

Ciao, bella.

New Stuff Going On

2009-06-18T19:24:00.005-06:00

NEW STUFF #1: Swimming lessons. I am in Level Eight, because last year the pool had chemical problems or something (as always) and the lessons didn't start until we had jetted off to the lake. (Kidding. I haven't ridden a plane since I was, like, three.) There's only supposed to be two kids in my class, but he quit. So basically I'm getting solo lessons! It's cool. Today I managed to correctly execute a Stride Entry, which is a pointless way of jumping in the water without putting your head under. I thought this was dumb, because a) if you're jumping in the water and you can't get your hair wet you have a PROBLEM and b) once you jump in a wave washes over your head anyways and soaks you. I asked my teacher, Shanna, why there was a point to this. She said it's for when you jump in and save someone and want to keep your eye on them the whole time. So I guess there is a point. The thing that is vaguely curious about swimming lessons is that they have so many rhymes. Some poet out there has no life. There's fire, wire, gas, glass, look up, look down, look all around, and sniff. They're not all rhymes, though. Pep-si, co-la, sev-en up is the rhythm for the front crawl. There's more, but I can't remember them all. Ah well. Good times. I love the water. I especially love the flickering turquoise light dapples on the pool floor underwater.
NEW STUFF #2: I actually studied for my science test. Last night I was spastic with energy, leaping around my kitchen, muttering "a beam is a strip of material used horizontally to support a load" and leaping on my brother and screaming, "GUESSWHATGUESSWHATGUESSWHAT? THE STRENGHT OF A MATERIAL DEPENDS ON ITS SIZESHAPEANDUSE!!!" Completed with an evil cackle. Cookie dough does this to you. Consider yourself warned. Anyways, the test was beyond simple. I may have even over-studied. Can you do that?
NEW STUFF #3: I'm graduating tomorrow. In my town, we only have two schools. Elementary is K-7, and High School is 8-12. They actually don't call this a "seventh grade graduation," they call it a "grade seven farewell." I'm kinda sad to think about leaving the good ol' Elementary school, but I am excited for high school. I'm totally psyched for lockers and different classrooms and the evil people and the cool people. Today the grade eights came over to our school and answered some questions off a sheet about high school. Stuff that we wrote. Like, "Who should we avoid?" ("Just don't be too cocky, especially not at first, and then no one will hate you. The grade nines especially despise if you start strutting around like you own the place," Laura said.) And "What happens if you forget your locker combination?" ("We hardly ever lock our lockers, unless there's an event going on at school," Levi said. "If you do, just go on down to the office.") Apparently we don't get a school supplies list, either, so their advice is four zip-up binders, pencils, pens, white-out, and all that shiznit tucked away in a pencil case, and markers for art. Chantelle suggested a mirror or a little box to keep stuff in inside your locker. I wanted one of those magnetic mirrors and a magnetic shelf or something to keep chapstick and hand lotion and stuff in. Maybe I should use another pencil case instead, because if the thing fell off and spilled all over the hallway, that'd be annoying. I think I'll just use a pencil case, because then I can keep a few bucks and "feminine supplies" in there without fear. Okay, I convinced myself. I have a nice dress for tomorrow, white with large black polka-dots, and sweet shoes and silver-and-black jewellery that sounds odd but looks nice. I don't exactly know how I'm rolling with hair, though. My hair is getting longer, because I'm growing it out. I like the length it's currently at though. I have a thick mat of golden-brown curls. I know they're golden brown because I once went around at a drug store matching a curl to all the little samples they have taped down. Grade Seven Farewell is really not a big deal. At one o'clock we walk in one by one, sit down, and watch embarrassing pictures of us snotty-nosed kindergartners played to everyone. Then the teachers make a speech about how wonderful we are, then we get diplomas then we get to go home. I suggested we all go to the Co-Op for koolaid slushies after, and it was seconded enthusiastically.
NEW STUFF #4: My right-next-door neighbors sold their house. The people moving in have a thirteen year 0ld daughter!! How great is that? They're moving in July 1st. I'm really excited. Even if we don't end up best buds, I still am going to introduce her to a bunch of people so she won't be so alone. We can prepare her for high school. I may even email my new teachers at the high school and ask if they want to email her back or something to give some teacherly advice. I can't help but imagine her. I mean, I don't know anything about her. She could African-American, Caucasion, Native American, or Asian. She could have blonde streaks, red curls, or blue spikes. She could have braces. She could be a model. She could be in a wheelchair. She could love reading (or better yet, writing) or she could hate all literature. Kind-hearted, mean-streaked, music appreciative, sensitive, sense of humor? Who knows. We could end up best friends like those BFFs you see on TV that walk into each others houses. We could end up enemies. We could chat every night, or maybe living next door will be a curse. I don't know. I'm hoping for the friends part, obviously. Even if we're not BFFs, we can be aquaintances or buddies. The summer before sixth grade my best friend Kensey and I met a girl named Alex at the pool. Kensey, who is related to everyone, had whispered to me before that they were distant cousins. There is a girl named Kelsey who lives right next door to Alex. I remember what we said. We had lingered uncertainly around her for a few minutes, twice saying, "Hi." She responded with a cheerful "Hello" both times. We finally swam up to her and introduced ourselves.
"Hi, I'm Jaecy," I said.
"Hi, I'm your cousin," Kensey said. Alex smiled and nodded.
"Kelsey told me."
And so on. We're now good friends. I'm hoping the new girl will be reasonably nice, with a sense of humor, and likes to read. I hope she'll appreciate me and my other friends introducing ourselves, rather than telling us to get lost or something. Most new people are the same at first, though. Shy, introverted.
Anyways, have you guys ever moved? I never have. I've lived in the same house in the same town my whole life. I don't know what it's like. I know it can't be easy. Any idea on how I should act around her? They're moving in on July 1st.
NEW STUFF #5: Poems. The other night I woke up at four in the morning and tossed and turned and finished my book and wrote two poems about eating disorders. They're kind of dark, but I like the finished product. No, I'm not bulemic OR anorexic, but I can imagine the pain.

BULIMIA

Self loathing
Gorging on sugar, starch, salt
Until I'm fit to explode
My stomach clenches
In bloatedness,
Anxiety.
Gagging
Heaving
Lurching
Purging forth my uncertainty
And doubts
About who I am
And where I shine
Repeating the actions
That I lose myself in
I drown in pessimistic bleakness
Unpleasant tingles
And the hollow,
Wracking
Gasps.
Do I feel better?
No. no.
But I will continue
Letting go
It's the only thing I'm sure of.

ANOREXIA

i stand quiet in the crowd
muscles taut
flesh sucked in
and i wonder:
am i too fat?
are they too skinny?
do they notice?
do they hate me?
am i good enough?

if i fidget
and rearrange
and dissect the food on my plate
maybe no one will notice
that none enters my clasped lips

i smile through my pain
and push on through my fatigue
i collapse at night
into a pile
of bones
and flesh
and suffering

yet i still lie awake
heart pounding
irregularly
not just because i'm living
on air
and water
but because i'm afraid
that after all of this
i'm still
not
good enough.

They're both somewhat dark, and twisted, and depressing. But it's also life, and I like to think I captured the lives of these poor people. Because most people think that bulimia is just models trying to stay rail-thin, it's actually a lot of chubby people that hate themselves and do this to themselves.

NEW STUFF #5: Wait, this is old. MY FISH DIED. It was an algae sucker. The kind that are the sole survivors in a filthy tank. My tank was CLEAN. And Peter Pettigrew had to add to my deceased number of fish. It's now a lucky number: seven. I'm a killer. However, I do have two remaining: red fantails, Coraline and Christine. They are perfectly fine. I hope.

Summer had finally came. The air is hot. School is drifting to a close. I finish next Wednesday. I'm also going to Moose Jaw for a ball tournament this weekend. For once, I'm not playing in it. My sister is. My friend Lizzy's little sister is on the same team. We are camping at this place with a motel, campgrounds, and rentable trailers. There is also a swicked awesome pool. We decided to party there all weekend instead of watching Squirt softball. Wheee!!!

The Sims 2

2009-06-08T21:48:00.002-06:00

I know you people all are the solid, literary types, but I will admit it: there's a computer geek inside me. I love stuff to do with computers, and programs like Pivot and Scratch. My most favorite computer game, of course, is the Sims 2. I have (begged, boughten, and borrowed) every expansion pack they've released. And now it seems a tad wasteful, considering the Sims 3 just came out. I'm making a trip to the city tomorrow, so I'll pick it up then.
Anyways, I had been considering making a website about the Sims 2. There are a lot of websites out there to do with the Sims 2, mostly downloading custom content. You can download new hairstyles and objects and stuff. I know how to make that kind of thing, reasonably (I mainly just work with colors and stuff, I don't actually understand how to craft a new hairstyle), but I was thinking more along the lines of tutorials, walkthroughs, and tips. It would probably just get lost out there in Cyberspace, but it would look good on my resume if it was a good website. And besides, it would be writing practice.
I was thinking of putting up a Questions section, if I can, and I can just address people's comments and concerns. The stuff I was thinking was:

All the cheats I know and what you can do with them. I am the Master of Cheats.
Tutorials on house building and possibly some Lots downloads (building homes and community places that people can download.)
Landscaping. Too many Sims people have flat yards. I have experimented with mountains, waterfalls, and waterslides. Other people should have such interesting yards.
Walkthroughs on how to make Supernaturals--that's what I call them. With ever expansion installed, you can make: Zombies, Plantsims, Werewolves, Vampires, Robots, and Witches.
Videos, perhaps?

So, lots of stuff. My dad said if he has time, he'll show me how to make a site. He experimented with them for a while when he crafted a page for his comedy duo. For now, I'm just thinking of the perfect name and begining some of the writing. I want a name with the word "sim" in it. Any suggestions? I would create a logo thinger for myself on Paint.NET. I would feel professional with a logo. I was thinking something like Jim Dandy, but with the "J" crossed out and replaced with an "S". Sim Dandy. Is that lame? I also came up with SIMphony. But when you write it out, it looks like Sim Phony. And that ain't cool. There's a simmer out there with the site name Parsiminous, which I think is sweet.

Sorry if I kinda lost you non-sim-addicts back in the, I don't know, second sentence? Don't worry about it. I just wanted to say that, and also get your feedback on my idea and name ideas. Thanks Yo!

In Search of New Material

2009-06-03T22:27:00.002-06:00

I am in search of new reading material.
You are all intelligent people that I trust read really cool shtuff.
SOooo... what's out there?

Thanks feryer responses.

OH...I am also in seach of tunes.
Tunes, anyone? Any goood tunes available for buying on iTunes?

Limericks

2009-06-02T22:16:00.003-06:00

There once was an ant named Balu

Who constructed his anthill with glue

The sand wouldn't stay

With glue, though, it may

It was all that he knew how to do.

There once was a bird named Eli

Who thought he forgot how to fly

He fell from a tree

To escape from a bee

And remembered before he could die.

There once was a sailing chipmunk

Who was, simply, in a word, punk

He set to the seas

In a violent breeze

And before he did know it he sunk.

I love writing limericks. They're an irish poem with a lilting, fun kind of rhythm. They're usually nonsensical. It seems difficult to think of something at first, but just throw something stupid out, because they're really short. They're pretty easy to get into. I like them a lot.

This isn't about limericks, but today at school we went to see an art show. The artist had an array of highly detailed, realistically colored roadkill.

It was possibly the most WEIRDEST thing I've ever seen.

The guide person was all, like, "How do you feel when you look at this? What do you think the artist meant to show through these paintings?"

What did he want to show? Maybe the traffic's heavy between Edmonton and Winnipeg.

I guess it takes all types to make the world go 'round.

The Exquisite Charms of David Garneau.

Softball Season

2009-05-25T22:41:00.002-06:00

Sorry, studmuffins. I've been away so long, you probably think I got sucked into a black hole with all of the socks that supposedly go into the dryer, along with my old camera cord. (Which, by the way, my mother actually found the other day. At my cabin. In a hand-held air pump box. For my old camera. That my dog stepped on. Arugh.) But the truth is, it spit me back out.
The reason for this is...softball.
I don't know what's it's like where you live, but here it's like life or death. All or nothing. If you play Peewee (heh heh, I always find that name kinda funny) softball, you are basically sacrificing three months of your life. And a lot of gasoline and Spitz.
In my league, we play about two or three games a week (every game is in this city an hour outside town) and a tournament almost every weekend. This past weekend it was in our hometown, which was awesome. We played against this one team, the Hustlers, and lost. We beat Team Two 18-1. Suckers. Next we beat Team Three by about five runs, I can't remember exactly. In the final was Team Two.
Now, they say that Team Two (who live four hours away from here) were all loading up into cars and their batcatcher, the best player on their team, was late. So they FORGOT her. Their coach, once realizing this, spent most of Saturday driving back and getting her and bringing her back. What losers.
When we were being recounted this story, one of my teammates, Ellen, said: "How can you forget the best player on your team?"
I said, "How can you forget a player, period?"
The mystery remains unsolved. But anyways, they supposedly got their act together on Sunday, when the Forgotten Batcatcher joined their alliances again. But not for us, the Kick Butters of Saskatchewan. We MERCIED them 17-2 in the FINAL. Heh heh heh!!!
My coach is awesome. His name is Chad, and he's only like twenty-five or something. He plays baseball and coaches our softball team, so he says it gets kinda confusing. We watched his game and embarassed him so bad by doing the stupid ball cheers that no one below Squirts actually does. This is the first one:
Chad's up to bat.
Chad's up to bat.
If I were you, and you were me,
I'd scoot my booty back.
Yeah, I'd scoot my booty back.
Way back!
Keep in mind most of these were like, twenty year old men. They were probably shocked. The second one was led by Ellen.
Chad, Chad, he's our man!
If he can't do it, no one can!
Oh, my God. That was sooooo hilarious. Everyone in the bleachers was loving us. Except for maybe Chad's girlfriend. Oops. Sorry.
I'm thinking maybe we screwed our chances to be picked for the Provincial team.
Oh, well. Good times, good times. I hope to always remember these shizznuggets of the good ol' ball years.

Utter Worthlessness

2009-05-04T14:33:00.005-06:00

I love been utterly worthless.

Well, not really. And actually, if you've seen my mom's bills, I am far from worthless, what with my knee braces, orthotics, glasses, contacts, and AIDs.

Just kidding. I don't have contacts.

Today I am acting utterly worthless. I camped out in a city, sleeping in close quarters with FIVE other people, and having to play ball at eight o'clock in the morning. (And we had to warm up at SEVEN THIRTY.) I had a pretty good weekend of softball: I only struck out once, lots of singles, a few doubles. For those of you nitwits that don't get ball talk, striking out is bad. Singles is hitting the ball and running to first base. Doubles is going to second base.

And oh, I got two walks. I hate walks. I really really DESPISE walks. Walks is when the pitcher sucks and throws four balls (heh heh sorry but it means unsuitable to swing at) and they give you a freebie to first base. As I mentioned, I DETEST walks. It's like getting away with doing nothing. You didn't EARN anything. I prefer to hammer my way around the field, kicking up red shale and sliding into second and taking out the second baseman's legs so that they fall on top of you and whine for the rest of the game. (True story. Just yesterday. It was fun.) But anyways, we won. The tournament, I mean. It would seem a bigger deal if we didn't win three tournaments and Provincials last year. The last time my team didn't win a tournament was last April. And we placed second.

Wowzahs, we're spoiled.

So, today, I am being utterly worthless. I am vegging and reading and writing in my journal and blogging and procrastinating delivering papers because my muscles are sore. Also I'm lazy.

Tomorrow I'm going to the city for (get this) a BALL game, but it's my sister's. I'm gonna get my fish and also repair/purchase my/a old iPod/new iPod. That was a very convoluted sentence, as well. But it's true.

The only production of today was a drawing I made with my seldom-used pastels.

Abstract Eyes of Many Colors.

So, this was new. I don't generally abstract around too often, but it was fun. Less limits, less rules. I like eyes and art. I think they go good together, because so much be seen in eyes. Expressions and souls and emotions, and eyes are also the windows which we see things from.

Oh, and by the way, I seem to be The Last Human on Earth without Facebook. Am I missing anything?

iPods and Guinea Pigs

2009-05-01T13:40:00.005-06:00

Can you find the Guinea Pig in the Stuffed Animals?

Ha ha. That's our guinea pig, Spice, that's wedged in there. She's an angora guinea pig. My mom teaches kindergarten, and Sugar and Spice are the main attractions.

I'm depressed. My iPod is not working. I press the menu or center button, it glows silver, beeps twice, and falls back into its black slumber. Or maybe COMA is more like it!!!

I have a ball tourney this weekend. We're camping, to save the cost of hotels. Heh. It should be fun. In between games, I'm going to bring my sleeping beauty to a Future Shop. Maybe the guy can raise it from the dead, for a fee of only 295, 378 dollars!

I have to clean my room and make banana bread to take camping, when I really want to sit down and play the Sims 2 for several mind-numbing hours.

But at least my Auntie gave me a Diet Pepsi. Diet Pepsi makes ya feel better.

Starting Fresh

2009-04-27T17:32:00.004-06:00

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay, I'm a teenager. Like, OFFICIALLY.
As far as gifts go, they were great. $25 to my favorite bookstore, $25 to spend on iTunes, and fish. That sounds so weird when I say it but it's true. Next time I'm at the store, I'm gonna get a couple of exotic goldfish to keep me company and add to the zenness in my room. I went to the city to see a movie (17 Again--it was surprisingly good) with a few friends. Alex gave me a Jacob poster (which is gonna replace my Edward poster hands down), Kensey gave me a sweet new journal and a cool quill pen (I filled up mine; I've already written eight pages in the new one) and Aaleah gave me spending money. We got Happy Bunny socks. I also got new shorts, a tank top, and sunglasses. From my neighbor, who is our adopted Grandma, basically, I got a Jameez garment bag and a thingie from the bank that has $25 on it to spend anywhere but looks like a credit card. I'm gonna leave it in there as long as possible and feel cool. My cousin works at the Bodyshop and gave me a case of make up and showed me how to put it on professionally. My aunt bought me three books: "The Complete Idiot's Guide on How to Write A Novel," "How To Write Killer Historic Mysteries," and a book with bookplate stickers to label all my books. This is awesome, because a) I'm trying to write a novel and b) people always borrow my books. Sometimes they give them back. All in all, awesome.
And, oh yeah, some recent news. I dumped Dylan today after school.
Okay, that sounds so harsh, put like that, but it really wasn't dramatic. I just decided it was time. I'm not a player or anything, I don't dump boys on a regular basis. Besides, neither of us was really into it. We don't really "click". Some people claim the two of them fit together like puzzle pieces. Dylan and I are puzzle pieces, too: two different ones. Some spaces don't connect, and some grind around the edges. He hasn't talked to me in like, a week. My friend Kensey (I didn't ask her to do this, by the way) lectured him on not coming to watch me at dance recital last night (which went good) and he replied, "I don't care." Which somewhat ticked me off.
I'm glad I did, though. When I really think about it, I AM too young to date. I am a teenager, but still young. I'm not even in high school, for God's sake! I'm just gonna hold off till I'm about fifteen, or until some guy catches my eye. Because why should I accept less than the very best? There's gotta be my Edward Cullen out there somewhere.
I'm not saying all seventh grade relationships are bad. My aforementioned friend Kensey has a 'boyfriend' who absolutely adores her. They are so cute together. They honestly like each other and hang out innocently. I see no problem with that.
I know you guys probably don't care about my pathetic love life, but I just wanted to put that down. Now I'm livin' the single life! (Actually, it seems weird to say that. Like I'm a forty-year-old woman who just pulled out of her third divorce. Which I'm not. But that just makes me more glad I've ended it.)
At dance recital, I dance in a tap group called "Five Guys Named Moe." The song is, basically, about five guys named Moe. Big Moe, Lil' Moe, Four-Eyed Mo, No' Moe, and Eat Moe. I am Four-Eyed Moe. Guess what? For Recital, Four-Eyed Moe wore contacts and, yep: forgot her glasses. I ended up borrowing the sound guy's glasses at the last minute. I couldn't see, but at least I had those vital specs.
When I was doing papers, one of the people I deliver papers to came up to me and gave me five bucks. "Just because," She said.
"No, it's okay!" I protested. She shook her head and thrust the blue bill at me.
"Just because," She repeated. I took it.
"Thank you very much," I said gratefully. It was one of those little gestures that just kinda made my day, a random act of kindness that boosted my spirits.
Now, I want YOU guys, those entire two people who read this, to do what she did. Perform a random act of kindess on a complete/almost complete stranger. Compliment a classmate you don't normally talk to. Help an old person across the street. Tip your waiters. I don't know.
Speaking of old guys, while I was on my paper route, I saw an old guy on a motorcycle. It bugged me, the same way forty-year-old moms wearing LuluLemon bug me. The same way old geezers driving convertibles bug me. You ever feel like that?
So, anyways, I'm starting fresh. New clean room, new age, almost new fish, no more dance, softball just starting. I might even start doing my math homework.

A Little Catching Up

2009-04-19T16:50:00.002-06:00

I've been absent for a while...as Jehsyka puts it, it may seem like I was "eaten by a moose." Which would suck. But, as it turns out, moose only nibble. So I'm alive!
Dance recital is next weekend, which I can't wait for. That means dance will be done! It's really weird. I can't believe it's wrapped up so quickly. And, after dance has completed, it's basically hard-core softball until July.
I live in a lil Saskatchewan town, which can be veryvery frustrating. For instance, over the Easter break, it was just warmer and warmer and warmer. We went to my cabin (which is somewhat more Northern, so it was colder/wetter, but oh well) for Easter, and when we came back it was like May warm!!! I was just pulling out my flip-flops when--nightmare of nightmares--it SNOWED again. Darmit, stupid snow!
It's not exactly frigid out today, but it's not Maywarm, either. It's sunny and windy, so I'm dealing.
So, as far as Easter break goes, it was awesome. I deeply enjoyed no school, and I got some writing done as well. I hung out at the local park (the kind with no toys; just grass and memorials and stuff) with some friends a few nights, had a sleepover with a friend, made fifty bucks babysitting yesterday and my whole family crashed at my aunt's house. With the exception of Dad. He had a poker night over here. When they have poker nights, they eat meat and beer. It's so mannish and disgusting. We asked Dad what they ate last night and he detailed, like, six different kinds of sausage. Call me nuts but I couldn't eat MEAT all night long. Ugh.
Oh, and I spent about six hours cleaning my room. No, it wasn't THAT messy! I dug through and organized and threw old stuff out. I'm a total pack rat. I don't think I've thrown anything out in my life. Into a bulging garbage bag I was shoving those cheap plastic beads from like four years ago, certificates of good behavior from second grade, etc. It was a total disaster. At one point, I spouted an awesome line: "I am drowning in the remnants of my life." It was true, but I figured it was a good line, so I wrote it down. My room is so fresh and organized and awesome now! The theme I've got going on in there is best suited to be PERFECTLY NEAT. Which doesn't often happen. But it's been three days and it's looking much the same, but I won't say anything else in case I jinx it. I might be getting new furniture, as my set is teeny and unable to store my almost-teenager clothes.
I'm turning thirteen on Wednesday, which I'm hyped about. I want some fish. That sounds so weird when I say it, but it's true. Just, like, two exotic-looking (I can't trust myself with keeping a true exotic fish alive) goldfish in a small fishtank in my room. It'll add to the lights and candles of zen in my room. I also want a few books, a new bag, and an iTunes card or something.
Lots of people my age want a cell phone, but to be perfectly honest, I don't. I mean, I know I wouldn't use it often. In theory, a "teenager" could have a phone, in my world, but 13 is still too young, I think. Also, none of my best friends have a phone. Who would I call? My mom? I want to get a phone at about age 15, maybe 14, or whenever my BFFs get phones. Otherwise there is no point to having one.
"The Choice" by Nicholas Sparks is the best book I've read in a long time. READ IT.
And that's all, folks. By da way, I'll try to post timbits of Miriam's Isle soon.

PDFs--Mystery Discovered!

2009-04-06T21:29:00.002-06:00

My dad showed me how to make PDF files on the internet. Whee!!
How he knows is that him and his comedy partner, Mark have published The Wedding Mc Joke Book and he knows a thing or two about PDFs.
For those of you who wanna know how, its rather easy. Download a program called "Software995". Then, go to the document you want PDF'd, and click Print. If you installed it succesfully there should be a "PDF995" option under Printer. Then you have it!
As an experiment I have put a few pages of Miriam's Isle as a PDF. I'll figure out how to put it out there soon.
Good luck PDFing.

Just Dance!

2009-03-27T13:00:00.002-06:00

(It'll be okay...doo doo doo doo, just dance...)
It's that time of year again. Dance competition has arrived at last.

Yay. (That was sarcastic.)

Okay, I don't hate it. I don't love it, either. Like many things, I'm somewhere in between.
This year I am performing a small tap group, a large jazz, large ballet, and a musical theatre solo. This morning, I performed my ballet group, "Stalia." We won gold!!!
Dance is somewhat weird. During the rest of the year, dance is a hard-core SPORT. Y'know, hair is up in a messy wad, out of your face, sweat off your foundation, tensor bandages, sports bras, knee braces, etc. If the class is working hard, that is. It's hard work!
However, competition. This is where dance is less of a SPORT and more DANCE. It means tedious stitching of ill-fitting costumes, fussing with beige bras and clear straps or beige bodysuits, layers and layers of makeup, false eyelashes, enough hairspray to melt the ozone, glitter. I think there should be a warning sign on the dressing room door: WARNING. THIS IS AN EXTREME ZONE. BEWARE OF HAIR SPRAY AND STAGE MOMS.
My mom isn't a stage mom, though. Luckily. So yeah, it's pretty intense.
I also had to straighten my hair, unfortunately. USUALLY hair is supposed to be curled, but I'm lucky enough to have naturally curly hair, so that means a heck of a lot of less work for me. Yay. But my evil straight-haired friends (fiends?) persisted in their single complaint of, "But we need straight hair for hip-hop!" and stuff. They obviously don't realize how much harder it is to straighten curly hair than it is to curl straight hair. Plus, I think that straight hair looks lame on stage. It looks limp and flat. Whereas curly hair has life and bounce and vibrance. Just my personal opinion.
Luckily, my ballet teacher, Miss Nadine, said that she wanted to change our hair to curly half-up, half-down. Of course the straight-haired gang immediately whined, "But we need straight hair for jazz!" Miss Nadine smiled and said Miss Mandy would change it. Besides, Mandy wanted curly hair in the first place.
I love Miss Nadine. IN YOUR FACE, straight-haired people!
I perform musical theatre (its lip-syncing the words. My song is "My Favorite Things.") tomorrow in the late afternoon. Tap and Jazz are on Sunday.
And oh yeah, we have a day off today. Most people are relishing the three day weekend, while we are like, "Yay, three days of dance."
The worst part about dance competition is getting lipstick in all your food.

Upcoming, Recent, and Present Stuff

2009-03-22T12:36:00.004-06:00

UPCOMING: Lanigan Dance Festival. I am in dance. I take ballet, ballet exam (ugh), tap, jazz, and a musical theatre solo. For those of you peeps who are not all up in the dance vocab, the difference between ballet and ballet exam is this. In ballet class, which is one hour, you generally spend about thirty minutes doing universal exercises (plies, tendus, etc.) The rest of the class is spent making up a dance routine, which is completely original. You get the costumes, hair, way too much makeup, and you go to LDF and other places and wait backstage and chew your nails and forget the dance before you go on and preform, showing everyone how awesome you are. You get the costumes and the performance for tap and jazz and stuff as well. Ballet exam is when you do an hour of the stupid exercises everyone hates while you glower at your teacher and feel fat in the leotards. The only reason I am taking ballet exam is so that I am able to take a musical theatre solo. Musical theatre is when you lip-sync. I'm doing "My Favorite Things" from the Sound of Music. It's fun.
Also way-upcoming: summer camp. We have a cabin, and a lake and a boat, seadoo, tubes, waterskiis, wakeboard, the works (no, we are not rich. Don't get the wrong idea.) so we generally are set and don't often go to summer camp. I went to horse camp once while Landon went to hockey camp. But this year we're all going camping for a week in a city nearest to us and we're all going to camp. Kloey's going to gymnastics camp, Carson and Landon are going to hockey camp, and I'm going to Volleyblast. I love volleyball and so, I'm going to camp and learning some intense skills. It'll be great but its far off.
RECENT: My Catechism class went to the hospital today and visited the unfortunate old people. My sister came with us, as did Kristy's little brother Brady who is Kloey's age (fourth grade.) Kloey played some piano songs and I read some of my poetry and we played board games and took them on walks in their wheelchairs around the halls and chatted. I was somewhat timid at first, but we brought one of my dogs, Shanli, and I loosened up. Shanli was pretty good. She's an irish setter, so she can basically walk over and they can reach her from their beds, wheelchairs, whatever. It was cool. I'm glad I went.
PRESENT: Happy Birthday, Jehsyka. Have fun with your fourteen-year-old list.

Happiness

2009-03-19T22:30:00.002-06:00

I'm pretty happy right now. Well, not so much pure "happiness" as much as contentment. Why?
Mainly because Miriam's Isle is back on track!
I'm trying to write a bit every day, even if I just get, like, a paragraph. That's still something, and it will keep me thinking about it. And, usually, I can't write just one paragraph. Once I get started, I'm obligated to keep going. Just last night I wrote more than ten pages, an important scene that proves as something to both lead up to and work off of. I'm pretty psyched!
For all the novelists working on their first first draft...if you're feeling discouraged...been there, done that. Just keep going through with it, and you'll make it out. I promise.
Just make sure you stick with it! I'm sure glad I did.
Okay, its only been two days of motivation/happiness stuff, but you can tell a lot in two days.
I also signed up for badminton. I beat everyone I played in practice today. Maybe I have a bit of natural talent? I beat Dylan 9-6. Hee hee. I also beat this sportsy guy who usually dominates, but not today!
ER was really good tonight.
Go Life! It's currently amazing. I hope your lives are all really fun right now too!

Movies

2009-03-17T17:22:00.003-06:00

I had to write a book or movie review for ELA class. Since the books I liked were either a) taken or b) inappropriate, I turned to movies. What movie did I choose? THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. Here is my first paragraph:

Beneath the Opera House in 1812, a disfigured musical genius lurks in the dark catacombs, nururing a young girls' voice. Christine Daae is one day driven into the spotlight, and overnight she becomes a star. The Phantom, otherwise known as the Opera Ghost, grows obsessed with her. Meanwhile, Christine is courting the Vicomte de Chagny, or Raoul, her childhood sweetheart. A dark, thrilling tale of jealousy, passion, and mose of all, music, this film will keep you on the edge of your seat while you watch the unpredictable love triangle as the Phantom drives them past the point of no return.

What do you think?
Today we got in two movies we had ordered from some source. Madagascar 2 and IRON MAN. M2 is okay, more for little kids, I think, but Iron Man is phenomonal. Normally I don't have patience for that type of movie, but Iron Man is one of my favorite movies by far. Plus, the guy who stars in it as Tony Stark is incredibly good-looking.
I know the movie Twilight doesn't hit the shelves until March 21st, but apparently they send em out early to movie stores so they can do what they wish with them. In my minitown, the main destination is the Video Stop. Everyone knows Earl, the guy who has watched everything and runs it. Anyways, my aunt was at the Video Stop while Earl was unpacking them, and we got one on Sunday. We watched Twilight Sunday night, and on Monday I watched it again when I stayed home sick. I know lots of people hate Bella/Kristen Stewart, but I for one think she did a great job in the movie. Her voice is kinda mannish, but it's okay.
I recently killed myself laughing watching my dad shoot our cat, Mr. Puddles, with rubber darts from my brother's dart gun. Puddles is begining to flee the room at the sound of the plastic clicking together. I know its kind of mean, but it is so hilarious. Foam darts don't really hurt.
I am still working on my background. I really want a dark navy blue or black or maybe deep violet background with a cool header. I think it makes it look more dramatic.

Writing...What Else?

2009-03-14T22:24:00.003-06:00

Arrrrrrgh. I don't know how many times I've said this, but I am stuck.
With Miriam's Isle, I mean.

Maybe I'm not a real writer, because its not like it has overtaken my whole life. In fact, I've barely written a thing in weeks. But its like, "Hey, I'm a kid. I have school and hobbies and extra-curricular activities and..." But the fact is I procrastinate. And when I manage to seat my butt down and pull out my laptop and open up my "Miriam's Isle" folder, I have no idea what to do next.
I've read Laini Taylor's blog, Not For Robots, a bazillion times, but the fact is that not all of her methods work for me. I mean, I got lots of great advice, and things that really helped, and things that I want to try, but her style just doesn't work for me. I'm different. I have to develop my own novel-writing method...but where on earth do I begin?
Here's the thing: I've made outlines. I know, or I think I know, the vague skeleton of the story. I know the begining, I know what the problem is. I know the plot, the climax. But if I know all that, what do I have to put in the middle?
It ain't a book without a nice, fat middle for your reader to wade through. What I just thought of: Once, I made a post about parts of a novel...
Whoa, frick. Back it up. I took a break there, and I had an epiphany.
It's so obvious! Why didn't I see it before? Miriam's Isle has NO complications.
Complications are...well, here, I'll quote from the post I copied from a school info assignment:

What is done to solve the problem makes up the plot of the story. The plot, in its simplest form consists of:
the action that gets the story "off the ground" is called the motivating force or inciting incident.
After the story starts, difficulties are encountered. These are complications that make it more difficult to solve the problem.
when the greatest (and usually the final) difficulty appears, we say the story has reached its climax. It is usually the most exciting part of the book. The solution of the major problem usually occurs here.
after the climax, something usually happens before the very end that's not that exciting. This is the anticlimax. The author may tie up loose ends here.
The novel ends after the antimclimax with a conclusion.

SEE??? I have no "complications". My main character, Miria, basically has no difficulties. She just sails through easy as pie and faces up to her dad's wrath at the end.
How could I have missed that??? Good God!
Sorry to rant and rave like a nimrod dying in the desert on a Bugs Bunny cartoon, but no one in my house currently cares about the novel writing process, so I have no one to rant and rave to. I turned to my faithful "bloggy tribe," as Jehsyka calls it.
I have no clue what to put in for "complications."
Je suppose I will have to resort to brainstorming, whoopdee-frickin'-doo.
But, to be honest, even though I have a lot-- and I mean a lot-- of work ahead of me, I now feel somewhat better knowing I have blindly (blondly? No offense, Goldilocks) worked out this major snarl. I just realized how to really make my novel...well, a novel.
I'd like to describe "Miriam's Isle" to you all, but maybe I can get one of those PDF files instead. It sucks to read long chapters on a blog, unless it's a singular blog dedicated to it (ie--CLARABELLE.) But it mostly sucks to read long text stuff on blogs.
If anyone has previous experiences, advice, etc, on "complications," feel free to share. Thank you all for not groaning and rolling your eyes in annoyance and saying, "Good God, that chick should have been blonde. HOW could she NOT notice THAT?" Well, I guess, maybe you did, sitting there on your computer in Antarctica or wherever the rest of the Internet lives. Just don't tell me that.

WIP

2009-03-06T18:44:00.001-06:00

Work In Progress.

I started trying to get a new, awesome template for my blog, then gave up, then forgot. Over the next little while my blog will probably fluctuate a lot. Just to give ya'll some warning.

Weekends and Week Ends

2009-02-27T19:20:00.002-06:00

It never really occured to me that a "weekend" was, y'know, the end of the week. In my mind, "weekend" was not a compound word, but a sacred word, a wonderful word that was often said and relished. (While we're disecting words, where the heck did they get "relish" from? Pickles are disgusting. I mean, ugh.) So anyways, it is Friday night, and I am awaiting my friend Alex to come over. She is one of my best friends and my best movie-maker friend. She also has the same taste in books as me and is one of my friends who actually read for fun and understand books. Plus she's a great artist.
So, I'm guessing we'll watch a Batman movie (she's somewhat obsessed, but I can't talk when I hum Phantom constantly) make some frozen yogurt, eat a lot of food, pause and think about how fat we're getting, and then forget about it and eat more food. We will most definetly make a bunch of stupid videos with a digital camera, probably mine. When I say stupid, I mean we use bright yellow capes and sparkly gloves from my old dressup clothes and talk in accents and do half improv, half scripted humor. Its funny stupid. Fun stupid. Awesome stupid. Not just stupid, like this guys shirt today.
Actually she just arrived, so Peace Out.

Vacation

2009-02-14T22:25:00.003-06:00

Today is the first official day of vacation, and already we are far from home.

I don't think it's suicidal to tell my location, because we're a days trip away from my actual home. We are at Drumheller, Alberta, were all the dinosaur stuff is. We drove all day (ugh--I hate our stupid Suburban now) and are at last at the mini Travelodge motel. We went bowling and I almost walked away wearing the "stylish" metallic-green and silver bowling shoes with bright red laces. The guy reminded me as I was leaving. I removed them red-faced, but he said that people have walked out wearing them before. He added that they usually return them. I'm like, "Why would they do that? These hot things are the most happenin' footwear out there!"

Ha ha. Later we went swimming and at the pool there was this rope you could swing into the pool by! Man, it was great. I'm the least athletic of my siblings, and even I had a sweet time. I'm also the tallest by about a foot (my little brother is 11 and 4"7 and I'm 12 and 5"5!) so I realized I could sort of push off the side of the pool, leap, grab the end of the rope, and cling there. I would do that if we left it alone for too long and it stopped swinging. I also realized I could climb a little bit higher while in the air, which was a great feat I'm sure I'll feel tomorrow in the morning in my upper arms.

We went out to supper at, like, 8. It was eight o'clock in Drumheller, but it would be nine o'clock back home. Which is why now, in our hotel room, almost everyone is in bed like we would be at ten thirty as opposed to nine thirty.

In Drumheller there is a giant, life-size plaster T-rex that you can walk up in. There's stairs inside of him and you can climb up and be in his mouth and have a great view.

Here's the guy, although of course its snowy and cold. At night, though, it was kind of foggy, and the ethereal light from the streetlights and stuff illuminated his belly and his teeth and it was really creepy. "Jurassic Park Flashbacks!" I was thinking.

Our main destination is Fairmont Hot Springs in BC, but tomorrow we are visting some relatives in Calgary, staying with them, and afterwards continuing on to Fairmont. I have my own boots but nothing else, so I'll be renting skis. Everyone is renting at least one thing except for Landon, who got a snowboard for Christmas.

So, that's my vacation plan. I'll be posting more as the events unfold.

Anyone else got rockin vacation plans?

Crushes and Other Stuff

2009-02-10T20:53:00.004-06:00

Well, the first thing in my title is crushes. I'm only in seventh grade, but most people do this thing they call "dating," which basically means putting a label on a slightly-closer-than-friends friendship. Some people act really stupid when they do this. There's this one girl who will ask someone out, and then avoid them for three weeks, and break up with them. I mean, its so dumb. It makes me wanna yak, almost.

But yesterday someone asked me out. His name is Dylan, and we "dated" through part of grades five and six. But we like each other, so we got back together. So, basically, we hang out at recess or meet up at hockey games and stuff, as well as eye-rolling at teasing. Ha ha. (Guess what, KH? You're not that funny!)

As for other stuff, last night I got new glasses, frames and lenses. The new frames are thick plastic (which sounds unnatractive but look cool) that are dark brown tortoiseshell. They have a slit in the side band on each side, and the top is plastic and the bottom is metal. They're Vogue or something, and I like them. Dad thinks they look like writer's glasses. They make me look smarter. W00T!

Friday at Last

2009-02-06T23:46:00.003-06:00

Ahh, at last it is Friday. I have been longing for Friday ever since Monday. Know the feeling?

Today at school we watched a pretty cool video about fear in the brain and stuff, and they interviewed a woman (Brooke Hayes--I don't really know how I remember her name) about her phobia of snakes. Even when a zookeeper took a small snake out of a basket and held it carefully, she was standing about three metres away and was on the verge of a panic attack. They were explaining about this little walnut-sized thingie in the brain that signals the body to release chemicals like adrenaline and stuff, but please don't ask me to recount it word for word, cuz it ain't gonna happen.
In PE, we went cross country skiing. I only fell twice...but I didn't know how to get up. (Thanks for the assistance, Kensey.)
My brother had a hockey game and my friend Alex and I sold 50/50 tickets. I got to yell, lucky me, so we basically walked around with me hollering, "FIFTY FIFTY TICKETS! ANYONE?" We sold one hundred and sixty-nine dollars worth, so yay us.
There was a new episode of Ghost Whisperer on tonight. Woot. It was really good! But I won't spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it, or wants to see it, or whatevs.
Finally, my throat hurts. I hope I'm not coming down with the flu...and if I am...I hope it doesn't kick in until Monday.

Braces

2009-02-04T21:27:00.003-06:00

If anyone has told you braces don't make a difference, that they're no big deal, that they're attractive and don't hurt, let me set you straight: those people LIE.

Braces DO make a difference. In eating, looks, and your lip. They also make a difference in your teeth, which is the good part. The ONLY good part. For me, they fluctuate between a BIG DEAL and BARELY ON MY MIND. Right now, its been the only sour thought in my mind. They are not attractive-- they make you look like a chainsaw ogre. And God, do they hurt.
It could be possible that its just me, because my mother (constantly) reminds me that I have a low pain tolerance. And, well, just because she had to bribe me to oblivion to pull out a loose tooth when I was six doesn't necessarily mean I have a low pain tolerance!
*cough* *cough*... okay, I'll admit it. I'm a freakin' wuss.
Anyways, I got my top braces on October 20th. I got em, it was weird, and they sucked for a few days, then I forgot about them.
Enter December 12th. I got green elastics that stretched across my front six teeth really tight and I again experienced that wonderous, week-long Advil addiction.
And then, February 3th, I got my braces on my bottom teeth. I have an overbite, so my top teeth bite down on my bottom braces when I close my jaw. Consequently, my orthodontist had to drill off part of the brackets so I couldn't even get elastics, darmit. Afterwards, I foolishly purchased a chicken teriyaki sub and realized I couldn't eat it. I had to peel it open and eat the chicken and green peppers with a fork.
And now today, February 4th, I am again experiencing that wonderful feeling of pain. Ugh, ugh, ugh. My teeth alternately ache and get a weird, unpleasant, tickly feeling. I can't bite into anything. I cut it into teeny pieces and shove it to the back of my mouth where my molars are not as sore and can cautiously chew. Last night I woke up at 12:30 after being asleep for about two hours. I lay awake until one and started reading, trying to ignore the rhythmic throbbing of my teeth as they ached with each pulse of blood. At two, I went upstairs and downed two Advil Liqui-Gels and refilled my water glass. I lay in bed for another forty-five minutes sipping the cold, soothing water. I finally fell asleep. But, as expected, I feel pretty rotten today.
My teeth are feeling better right now, despite my somewhat painful flute lesson.
On a non-painful note, I made pasta today. Yesterday in the city, after our family's several eye appointments and MY orthodontist and knee appointments, my auntie bought a pasta maker. I also ordered new glasses, and I'm pretty psyched because of my new frames. But anyways, I went over to my aunt's after school and she had already made some plain fettucine and I helped make some lemon-pepper-and-parmesan-cheese spaghetti. For supper we had homemade noodles in homemade spaghetti sauce--it was SOoOoOoO amazazing. Plus, my father bought me a Koolaid slushie for my mouth.
So, despite my rough little teeth problems, the rest of the day wasn't so bad.
Cheers!
P.S. I don't blame anyone who gave up on my whining and quit reading halfway through-- I just had to get some complaining out of my system. :)

Free Write

2009-02-02T22:05:00.002-06:00

Beneath the ground, trapped. Being smothered by the compressing earth, surrounding me on all sides. My oxygen grows less and less, as the CO2 I expel permeates the small cavern. I feel myself fainting away, through the thin, dank air, fading to join the angels…
But no. This is not me. This was my mother, who gave up before she tried. Who said goodbye before she said hello.
That is not me.
Gasping in the stubborn air, I scramble. I push and claw frantically at my dirt ceiling, feeling the pain and sting as my nails splinter and rip off. Trying desperately to ignore them, trying to be brave, but I just can’t. I can’t do this the way they do. My heroes.
I switch methods, from clawing to banging. I throw my bony shoulders up into the hard dirt, heaving my torso into my cage with all my might. I feel the bruises, the inky spots that would cover my shoulders in the morning. If they weren’t already there, they were coming.
My problem was I didn’t know how deep this grave was. I didn’t know where this grave was. Heaving, clawing, I desperately try to escape. I don’t want to join my mother.
All at once, the ceiling of soil collapses. Choking, and drop to my knees, curling into a ball. One heavy rock lands on my elbow, and I wince and tuck myself into a tighter wad.
Sunlight is flooding in the hole, fresh, breathable air coming with it. I stand up, despite the shower of dirt clumps, and breathe in dust and sunshine. Once the filth has cleared, I see my almost grave was dug not very deep, but there was a web of green over top. I rip those off, weaving my bloody fingers through and pulling hard, yanking them down. Lush vines tumble into a dense pile at my feet. I take a running leap with my remaining strength and pull myself, with great effort, over the crumbling edge. My stomach shrieks from gnawing hunger and my throat aches from the thirsty desire. I don’t know where to begin, now that I am alive.
Water first. You can survive for weeks without food, but days without water…
After ten minutes of treacherous walking in a sunny but tangled and unfamiliar forest, I spot a glistening pond. With a cry of desperate relief, I run towards it and fall to a heap in the shallows. I don’t know if it’s salty or fresh, but I don’t care. If I die, I die. At least I can die in the air.
But it was fresh. And I drank, and drank, and drank, until my stomach was sloshy. I pull myself out of the scummy shallows and spot a fallen log that leads a ways out to the clear water. I balance carefully on it, picking my way across. There is not much of me to balance.
Once I get to the edge, I look into the glassy mirror of water.
A hideous face stares back.
Bony, gaunt. Completely iced with dirt and mud, save for a slightly muddy spot around my lips and chin where the water had cleansed it. My cheekbones stick out. My filthy clothes hang in soggy tatters. My eyes are empty and hollow and huge. I look like a drowned, dirty owl. My hair hangs in a greasy, dirt-encrusted, unfixable frizzy tangle around my face.
But my expression stares back, haunted, lonely, scared, aged.
My father did this to me.

I wrote this randomly one day. Random meaning I opened my laptop, and typed. I have no idea who this girl is, how she got there, how she'll get out of that mess, or IF she'll get out, but I will have to figure that out later. For now, I just had fun.
I believe this is what Mrs. Laini Taylor calls a "Work Doc", just a random spiel of words. My personal advice to writers: if you're in the middle of a project and get stuck, freewrite. It will reasure you that you haven't lost your touch, its fun, it keeps you writing, and it may even help get you through the rough spot.

Hockey

2009-02-01T19:43:00.003-06:00

I spent Sunday sitting on a bus/ sitting in a hockey rink.

Oog.

Today was my brother Landon's Provincials. They were hosted in a town called Biggar. It was pretty funny, if you're my dad, because the town name automatically provides a great potential for stupid puns. My father is amazing at puns. It may not be much of a talent (no offense, Dad) but he is good at it. Sometimes I laugh. Sometimes I cringe (or cry.) Sometimes I pretend to laugh. And sometimes I have to pretend NOT to laugh. Oh, dad, you're just too punny for words.
But anyways (the sign, by the way, has a pun. It says, "New York is big, but this is Biggar!") we left at about nine-thirty, loaded up in the suburban, and drove to the hockey rink. We then loaded up onto this bus which he usually rent for field trips. I had my laptop bag stuffed with movies, books, and of course my charged laptop and power cord. So, we rode on the bus for about THREE LONG HOURS and finally made it. Then we sat around for a while until the game. When the game started, I actually went out and watched, which was weird. No offense, any hockey playas, but I really don't like watching hockey. But I did watch the entire first period, and sort of enjoyed it. I mean, the hockey was pretty good, our team was playing good. I was just tired because of two late nights in a row and had a headache, which automatically sucks the fun out of anything, and because it's COLD. But whatever-- I watched hockey, and I didn't die. I'm so proud of me.
I didn't really intently watch the next two periods, because I was inside the blessed, blessed warmth, reading. Landon did get an assist. We won, 11-2. BAM! We totally kicked their butts. It was awesome.
The ride back seemed three times as long, especially when my laptop died (not a malfunction, just batteries) and it grew too dark to read and my reading light stuttered unexplicably until it went out. I had to resort to switching my iPod onto "Backlight Always On" and moving it down the page as I finished "On Thin Ice," by Jamie Bastedo and than continued "This Lullaby" by Sarah Dessen (two very good books, if you guys need something to read.) I really like "On Thin Ice" because its not like most teenage novels, a swoony romance. It has nothing to do with love at all. Well, not like kissy-couple love. It's about a girl in a teeny Arctic town and polar bears and stuff. I read the back, and was a bit skeptical, but after the book I loved it. I've taken it out of my town library about four or five times.

So, my Saturday was a snowmobile course all day and Sunday was hockey. It wasn't the greatest weekend, but

I got my snowmobiling certificate
Our team won the game

Saturday night I did hang out with a few girlfriends. We watched 1 1/2 movies. We ate like two bags of popcorn, one bag of jellybeans, one bottle of Lime Crush and one bottle of Grape Crush. (By the way, the two mixed together taste really good.)
So, that was my great/not so great weekend.

Winter Blues

2009-01-28T21:45:00.004-06:00

When you look outside, all you see is white. The icy world is a clean slate, wiped blank of every splash of color, every wisp of grass, every lush branch of vegetation is packed beneath the snow, sleeping. Even the blue sky has faded to a relatively gray color. The skeletal trees hang as lifeless as my mood.
I call it the winter blues.
I wonder: why the winter BLUES when it's white? The world is white, but my mind is gray. A bleak gray. A gray so depressing, I'll spell it like this: grey. (I hate spelling gray with an "e" but now seems like the right time to do it.) I wish it were blue outside. Or green. Or orange, for crying out loud. Even though my room is a beautiful dark pink with a Hawaiian mural on one wall, the picture of tranquility, I am feeling a major case of the winter blues, minus the colors. Maybe the winter blahs would be more descriptive.
I haven't been writing much outside of school lately. My imagination's on strike. Even "Miriam's Isle" has lurched to a standstill. I had planned for it to be done by February. Ha ha. Peals of dull, sarcastic laughter chip at my fraying nerves whenever I think about it. I think the most I've done is a few school assignments, journal entries, several pathetic pages of my novel, and a random chunk of writing. The random chunk is a historical fiction, an unnamed character fleeing from the Pompeii eruption. I just poured it out randomly one night, but I'll post it here just for the heck of it.
Pompeii

I felt it before it arrived; the creeping heat of an evil God, washing over our bodies and bathing us in a salty sweat. The billowing cloud was so dark and threatening, looming over us, it seemed no longer a mere composition of vapor, but a solid object praying for our demise.
The air was hot as I breathed it in, not the sweet warmth of summer, where you can taste the olive trees and sunshine, but a choking, smoky heat that burned. There was nothing sweet about this heat by any stretch of imagination.
Next came the dense cloud of creeping ash, advancing over the worn dusty roads like a hideous creature. As my eyes grew wide in terror, despite the hot smoke that burned, I swore to the Gods I saw its gruesome mouth curving up into a vile grin. In my mind, the gray cloud took on the hideous fangs and eyes brimming with repugnant lust for blood—our blood.
The last thing that came was the darkness. The claustrophobic midnight that smothered Pompeii to death. The awful creature that swallowed us whole, too excited to torment us any longer. The darkness was not like the familiar blanket of night that conceals the often harsh reality of daylight, with fingers of glowing moonlight that pick out paths and breathe a soft pale light into what is necessary. No, this darkness was more like the locked door in a windowless room. The concealing black where children are punished, where sinister secrets flourish, and where nightmares take root and grow.
As the beloved town breathed in the scalding ashes, we felt ourselves sinking in the debris from Mount Vesuvius, shaking them off as often as we could. We knew if we failed to do this, we could be smothered beneath the crushing weight of this substance.
The ash coated the world in such abundance it was like snow. It was then, and only then, that I found out what it is like to suffocate. Not only with the heat and weight and crushing fear, but also with the terrible cries and moans of the people whose loved ones failed to escape. They cried for kin, and they cried for their lovers. They wept and moaned for their sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, husbands and wives. For it was all of these unlucky folks who failed to escape from the dreaded creature who swallowed and suffocated this innocent town…who defeated Pompeii, by pounding it with nothing but ash—simple, insignificant, yet underestimated.

There you have it. My only productive piece of writing in days. It's a pretty random chunk, and I haven't read it over or anything, but I am fascinated by the Pompeii story. I want to read a historical fiction on it. Not the facts; I couldn't care less about the gases in the volcano; I want the (fake but intriguing) stories of the people. My aunt suggested I write a historical fiction on Pompeii, and I really liked the idea. I'll aim for a short story (mine are generally about fifteen pages).
Oh, there was one more thing I'm proud of. I wrote a "short" story, Watergirl--lame title, I know, but I'm working on it-- that was thirteen pages long. It's about a girl who loves swimming (ahem--me) and one summer finds herself turning into a fish, scale by scale. My character's name is Ashley and it was really fun to write about someone else for a change. No offense, Miria and Clarabelle, but they are kind of like buds that are so old you have little spats now and then. Ashley was a friend new enough and intriguing enough that I just went with what she did and let little things slide.
I have to write a freaking PLAY for my ELA class-- any ideas? I have none. The only things I know are

My main character should be named Terranika
I'll probably write a serious play, not a comedy
That's pretty much it

So, all in all, I'm stumped. I mean, I played the Sims 2 for almost two hours today. It's pathetic. My relationship with The Sims is kind of weird. I know it's stupid, I don't get mad at people when they say it, but I find myself with a major urge to go on it now and then. I burn brain cells then log off and say, "Man, WHY did I waste all that time?" And then next week... Same thing. It's so dumb. I know I could do more constructive things, and yet I have 2 expansion packs, 4 stuff packs, a mod, custom content, and a lot of cheats. I just can't seem to get off for good. Oh, sure, I've gone probably about a month without it, but I always go back. It's like smoking.

So, thanks for listening for my pathetic ranting and whining. I don't blame you a bit if you quit a while ago. (But please at least read the Pompeii thing-- it's pretty cool, if you don't mind my braggingness. It's my only product in more than a week.)

Barack Obama's Inauguration

2009-01-20T21:36:00.003-06:00

I don't actually know if I am spelling 'inauguration' right, but the fact remains the same: this day, January 20th, 2009, is a historic day. So I figured I'd write a blog post.

For those of you totally out of the loop, Barack Obama is a black man who won the USA presidential election. He is the very first African-American guy to have done this. Today, he is being inaugurated (whatever that means.)
Okay, I'm pretty sure it just means he says a bunch of oaths and stuff, swears, (swear as in promise, NOT cuss, ha ha) and makes a 20 minute speech to all of the Americans (and the Canadians who are tuning in).
My Social Studies teacher, Miss Chopty, told us yesterday that today would be a historic day that we would all remember for the rest of our lives. She told us of some of the days she remembered, like when Elvis Presley died and the 9/11. What did I do on this special day?
I went to 'the city' (What we wimpy small towners call this big city nearest to us) for other people's appointments. We went to a grocery store (woot) Indigo (I got two books) and then Bonanza for lunch (we met up with some friends there.) After lunch we went to the dentist. Mom and Kloey and Carson all had to get fillings (suckahs) while I sat in the waiting room and watched the historic event unfold on live TV. Okay, actually that's a lie. I brought my laptop in and watched Mama Mia. But still, I saw a little bit of it, and I was in the same room that it was playing in, so probably the historic vibes like washed off the screen, filtered through the air and got absorbed into my very soul.
Maybe.
To be perfectly honest, the thing that stood out today was watching Mama Mia. I have the song "SOS" stuck in my head. So probably in about eighty years, my adorable granchildren will say, "G-ma, you were there when the first black man became president?"
And then I'll be all, "Totally."
With eager eyes and gaping mouths, they will ask, "Do you remember it?"
And into my head will pop, "So when you're near me, darling, can't you hear me, SOS!" I'll probably start singing in a cracky, thin Grandma voice, and they'll be all freaked out and won't know what song it is, and I'll have to explain Mama Mia was a musical that was popular before they were born. And they'll think, "Yeeg, what old-lady tastes."
Oh, fun. I can hardly wait.
For real, though, I did actually track down part of his speech (it was 6 mins, 30 seconds, which wasn't the real speech, but I thought it was long enough, frankly) and watched it. He's pretty good looking....aaaaaaaaarrrgh! Kidding. e's old. I know 47 isn't actually that old, but to a twelve-year-old, that's like, ancient.
My teacher, the Derbster, was one day saying, "Guys, thirty really isn't that old!" No offense, Mr. D, but I think your thoughts get turned around when you lose your hair. I think someone might have said something like that out loud, actually, but he takes it good. He's a cool guy.
Anyways, Obama's speech was pretty intriguing and uplifting and all that, but I couldn't help thinking, "But dude, this doesn't actually apply to me." Part of my mind (the part that listens during class) was saying, "Yeah, but doesn't the USA affect everyone?" I guess it applies to me in the media kind of way. But I don't like the US because they cancelled Moonlight, a CBC show that was AMAZING and never even completed one season, dangit. I miss that show. I love my on-screen vampires, and since Twilight isn't out on DVD yet, Mick St. John was the best I could do.
I do actually think Obama will be a good prez, because in his speech, although he is promising to "bring change to America," he wasn't all promising, like, Candyland and ponies tomorrow. He said, "It will take more than months and years to accomplish this, but America is a great country, and I know we can do it." Something along those lines. My dad told me a direct quote of Obama's, but I can't remember it, so I'll put down a direct quote of my Social teacher instead:
"Forty years ago, we could not walk through the same door as a black man. Tomorrow, a black man is about to become the most powerful man in the world."
That's pretty inspiring and sweet, you know. I mean, forty or fifty years? We've gone from not serving black people in restaurants to voting and cheering for a black man to become president? That's amazing. I will put here, I am so not one of those people who don't like 'colored' people. I do not pin prejudice on anyone because of race. It can be a little difficult where I live, not with African-Americans but with Native Americans. But that's off topic.
I think what I was saying before, was that Obama will be a great president because he not only dreams big but is also realistic. Because he wants to achieve the goals but isn't expecting it to happen overnight. Which is correct. It sure as heck isn't. But if they work hard, they can pull it off. Happy America=Happy rest of the world. That's slightly pathetic, but still true. Oh, well. You go, Barack Obama. Good luck with your saving everyone.

(Look at the patriotic post colors.)

Flopped Predictions

2009-01-13T20:54:00.003-06:00

Today in Science class, my teacher, Mr. D, was reading us some old quotes that these scientists made. He (the Derbster) said, "Remember, telling the future is very shaky. It's hard, and some of it turns out right, but it usually changes."

"This first one," He said, "Was from a well-respected guy, you know? Smart, scientist, people looked up to him. He said...

'This item has too many shortenings to be of any use to us.'"

Know what he was talking about? A phone.

There were more, too...

"I cannot imagine for the life of me why anyone would need a personal computer."

"We don't like their sound and their music is on its way out, anyways." (This was a recording company who turned down the Beatles.)

"Airtoys are nice, but have no military use." (A Frenchman. Guess who lost the war?)

"640 KB of memory will be too much for anyone to use."

"Who'd want to hear actors talk?"(At the end of the silent movie age)

"Heavy flying machines are impossible."

Oh, man. If those dead guys are up there, they'd be having a laugh at us right now with our 50 GB iPods and Surround Sound movies and memoirs of the Beatles. Not to mention the planes, MOST of which are involved in the military!

Well, I guess it just goes to show-- even the smartest guys of the time, experimenting with the top-notch technology, can make predictions that will flop.

Writing-- Thick and Thin

2009-01-06T22:09:00.002-06:00

AAAAARG.

Yes, I am a writer. Yes, I have set a Miriam's Isle shedule. Yes, I now have a slick personal laptop and Microsoft Word 2007.

Am I writing? Nooooooooooooo.

Listen, I know that so many of you are writers, too! Any of you have tips on how to write lots, and keep it up?! I used to call this writer's block, but it's sinking in more and more often! I'm worried that it will slowly dissolve into my system PERMANENTLY!!!

Tips from the top of your head. Writing shedules, beating writer's block, setting the mood (?) I dunno. I just know that I really want some tips from actual people. I tried google, but it was getting to "technical," and you could pretty much tell it wasn't true-blue writers writing the articles.

Please, please, please, help me.

2009

2009-01-02T14:59:00.005-06:00

Well! I can't remember the last thing I posted on here. Oh well.

Well well well.

I've got to stop saying well.

Anyhoo, my main Christmas gift was...drumroll, please...A LAPTOP!

Huzzah, huzzah, my life is complete. Yay!
It's a Sony Vaio and it has Windows Vista. I love it sooooo much. It's awesome.

So, it's a new year, and my resolutions include...

Eat healthy and lose some weight, exersize often
Finish "Miriam's Isle"
Be more responsible and reliable

So, there you have it. It's not too original, but it's what I feel I have to do. I do eat too much junk, I am overweight (according to the Wii Fit) I don't exersise enough, I really want to finish Miriam's Isle, and I am too forgetful.

May this year be your best year yet!

Wow, that was cheesy. Oh well! (RAWRGH! There's that "well" again! )

The Last Day of School

2008-12-22T08:10:00.002-06:00

Needless to say, the last day of school was veerrry interesting. More than one thing happened.

Well, firstly, the morning. We didn't really do much exciting in the morning: we had to build a bridge out of newspaper and staples. I was partnered with someone who I really despise, but we ended up with the winning bridge anyways, holding twenty grams of weight. Ha ha.
I had a physio appointment at noon. There is nothing interesting at all to say about physio.

When I got back, my class walked over to the high school and seated ourselves at some tables for the hypnotist. We were all really jazzed; we'd never seen hypnotization before. (is hypnotization a word? it should be.) Anyhoo, half the school scrambled up on stage when he inquired about volunteers. They hypnotist guy, Sebastion or something, asked: "Has anyone here been hypnotized before?"
Numerous hands went up.
"Good. If you've been hypnotized before, your subconscious mind remembers it, and it makes it easier." He walked up to Jacklyn, whose hand was raised. "What's your name?"
"Jacklyn."
"And have you been hypnotized before, Jacklyn?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Look into my eyes-- deep breath in, deep breath out, SLEEP." he snapped his fingers and she immediately slumped over forwards. The seventh graders, the amateurs, gaped at each other in shock. It looked fake...but it wasn't.
He started out with a stageful of people, but some of them couldn't go under, so they grudgingly picked up their chairs and walked off. He was left with a semicircle of hypnotized students. He made them sit on a hot beach, while they fanned themselves frantically. They showed off with sexy poses for someone walking past them. They got dumped, and they then were sent to the North Pole. They huddled up there, freezing, and he told them that the person next to them was the warmest person in the world. The hysterical result was curling up and cuddling with people that they didn't really know. When they snapped out of it, they crawled away from The Warmest Person in the World with disgust.
Another funny one was when he told them that the number two didn't exist. Then he told them they were all quarantined because of this virus that made you grow extra limbs.
"Has anyone here been in contact with someone with extra limbs?" He asked. Shelby raised her hand. He called on her, asking who.
"My cat has six toes," She told him. He brought her up to the front.
"Shelby, do you pet your cat?"
"Yeah."
"And he has six fingers, right?"
"Toes."
"Okay. I'm going to point to your fingers, and you count them out loud, okay?"
"Okay."
So, in turn, he pointed to each finger and she counted them aloud.
"One, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten..." big pause. In a tiny little voice--"Eleven."
(If you skim read, go back and read that to make sense.)
Everyone started screaming, and Shelby started crying. He told them to count their eyes.
"One, three. AUUUUUUGH!"
"Count your nostrils!"
"One, three. AUGH!" Screamed the whole stage.
"Count your buttcheeks!"
"One, three. AAAAUUUUUUUUUGH!"
And so on, and so on.
"Now, now, guys, you may not have gotten the virus from Shelby..."
"YES, WE DID. SHE'S FROM SIMPSON!" A guy named Travis bellowed.
Which was really quite hysterical.

The show ended with strutting around and striking a hot model pose. The song was the one that goes, "I'm too sexy for my car, too sexy for my car, too sexy by far..." It was hilarious.

We all went to dance...which is another incident...for later.

Preparations

2008-12-14T15:18:00.002-06:00

Ah, Christmas is coming! Baking cookies, rustling gift paper, peals of merry laughter saturating the air!

God, I sound like a bad commercial.

Anyways, everyone knows that the real Christmas is a time of stress, usually. AFTER Christmas is usually fun, cause then you have piles of crap to keep you entertained. BUT-- the Pre-Christmas season is always full emptying wallets and straining to complete projects on time before the relatives arrive. I mean, I do like Christmas baking and shopping. Seriously. (In my family, this year we drew names to see who would buy stuff for who. I got my little sister-- Kloey-- and I have her stuff, but I will not say it here. The kid's not stupid.) I have stuff for two of my friends as well (I won't say them, because again-- they are not stupid and can find this post) but I don't have stuff for:
My aunts, my uncle, my cousins, my grandma, my brothers, my parents, my other friends, or my teacher. I haven't the faintest clue what to get some of them.

Our school Xmas concert is next week, hoo-rah, and half the cast don't even know their lines. I memorized mine, of course, but I blanked out on one of them during rehearsal.

Lots to do, lots to do.

New Look and Christmas Concert

2008-12-05T23:38:00.003-06:00

First of all...NEW LOOK! Is it not glorious?

I mean, I did like the other one, but you could TELL I got it off a cheap (well, more than cheap...FREE) site on a download, but this one actually looks real. Professional. Lol, that's me.

I am trying to decide if inserting a pic into the top would work well... I kind of like the leaves.

GREEN...that brings me to our school's Christmas Concert.

Oddly, this concert is called, "SANTA GOES GREEN." When we heard that, we didn't try to pretend that it wasn't the weirdest thing ever. I mean, since when does Rudolph have an LED nose?
But I have warmed up to the fact some considering we are the oldest in the Elementary school, so we get the honor of being in the musical. Our Christmas concerts are a play that are three quarters singing, but they give us parts and costumes and lines to make us think it's a play, even though the choir does all the work. I am one of the three main parts...RUDOLPH!
I don't know why, but apparently Santa going green involves Rudolph with a Texas drawl. I have no idea what Rudolph has to do the southerners, but oh well. I actually tried out for Mrs. Clause, who has more lines, but I had to read a few Rudolph lines and the teachers liked my drawl so much I am now Rudolph. I'm kinda glad about it now, though, because Rudolph doesn't have as many lines, but he requires more acting. Mrs. Clause just spouts wisdom about global warming.
Speaking of Rudolph and Mrs. Clause, she rubs my nose, like, six times throughout the play! It's like, wow, Mrs. C, keep your "clause" to yourself!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha, my dad's a comedian. I guess it shows. He published a book of puns with his partner, Mark, and every seventh word out of his mouth is a pseudo pun. (Usually every fourteenth word is a real pun.) I have to occasionally remind him that a pun is the lowest form of humor.

Miriam's Isle

2008-12-05T23:04:00.003-06:00

Miriam's Isle, Miriam's Isle.

It is a poem. It is a short story. It is an unfinished novel.

It is all written by me.

Do you know how some people (Stephenie Meyer, for example) write, like, a whole freakin' novel, then sweat over it and name it? Not me. It's like I need the title in place for the characters to speak up. Except for Clarabelle, of course. It could stay the same, but I probably need a new one. (Just a fun fact-- did you know that Clarabelle was originally supposed to be called, "The Lightning Driver"? My dream was a vampire that dressed up in a long blonde wig and a fake name, Beth, and was a racecar driver. It was a warped combo of Herbie Fully Loaded, Hannah Montana, and Twilight. I wonder what kind of Kool-Aid I had the night before.) Anyways, the name Miriam's Isle fell into place before Miria got her say and developed her fiery persona.
MI is the novel I began writing for NaNoWriMo, which I now believe is for desperate people with no jobs who can sit at home all day, type 23/7 and survive on coffee and chocolate. I couldn't do this because a) I have to go to school, b) I need to sleep, eat, shower, etc., and c) I'm not even allowed to drink coffee. It will stunt my freakish growth. (I am twelve years old and 5"5! And still growing, too!)
Anyhoo, NaNoWriMo went down the drain. So I gave up on the whole intriguing novel-in-a-month. Like, did I think that a stupid novel was gonna just pop out of midair? I was going to have to invest some serious work in that sucker. I was gonna have to make sacrifices.
Which is really not my thing.
So, instead, I did what any child would do: I whined to my mom. She did what any mom would do: gave me advice. (Except for the moms that give out punishments.) I took it gladly.

So, here's the deal...
Miriam's Isle is divided into five sizeable chunks. I sat down, invested an hour of sleep, and planned each chunk. Underneath the paragraph explanation of the section is STATUS and DEADLINE. I gave myself about two-and-a-half to three weeks per chunk. I know that sounds like a lot, but I do want a good-sized, well-written novel. And I am fairly incredible at procrastinating. Chunk #1 was completed three days ahead of sched, with about 7000 words. If I can do that five more times, that's like 35000 words! That is really not bad. I mean, NaNo pages were 50000 for a 175 page book. You know what? I'm only twelve. I wanna finish the dang book. Shut up.

It is with the blossoming petals of renewed hope in my heart that I set forth on Miriam's Isle with eager fingers and a fiery glint of determination in my eye.

Actually, my eyes are drooping. I should hit the sack.

(Anyone wonder where that stupid saying came from? What sack? Why do you hit it?)

See ya, fellow novelists. May all your characters be renounced.

New Blog

2008-11-23T21:16:00.002-06:00

Sheez, I really have to stop making blogs. But anyhoo, this one is kinda sweet. It is called, "Life In Words," with ALL of my writing, poems and stuff. I really want people to check it out, and you might see stuff you've already read, but I have a new story out and you can see it here.

So, peeps, PLEEZ check it out and comment. Tell yo friends to comment--you can also leave anonymous stuff. Thanks!

Bummed

2008-11-14T19:39:00.005-06:00

Okay, that is the only word to sum it up for me right now-- bummed.

Okay, so this kinda gets complicated here, but last year I got the Sims 2 H&M Stuff for the computer. My mom didn't notice the little "Sims 2 Required" at the bottom. How the Sims and all the expansion packs work is that there is the original, The Sims 2. You can get H&M, for example, that provides you with lots of extra clothes and a few furnishings, but the basic game remains the same. The Sims 2 Nightlife Expansion Pack actually adds features to the game, like there is a downtown and you can get vampires and stuff.
So, what I did, I borrowed the original Sims 2 from my friend Hayli, installed it, and then installed H&M stuff. I returned the Sims 2 disc to Hayli, because I could access the Sims 2 game from the H&M disc. Confusing, right? But sweet.
So that is on our upstairs computer, and my sis and I play it and yada yada yada. I tried to install it on my computer in my room, but it did not work because my stupid clunky computer was just too outdated.
Now, I have a new computer. It's newer and faster (but not an expensive Mac or anything, don't be getting the impression that I'm rich or anything, it's an old school computer that cost $50) so I wanted to install the Sims down here, where I could download mods and hacks and stuff that wouldn't interfere upstairs. So I asked my Auntie to buy it for me when she went to the City (which is what we lame small-town folk call the biggest city closest to us.) I got all hyped up, cuz I positively adore the Sims and cheats and was excited about testing out the mods and stuff. I must have written it down wrong, because she looked for The Sims and not the Sims 2. They are two very different things, I tell you. TRUST ME.
So now I am sitting here, not hacking or downloading or extracting files or getting fake promotions or seeing how many girlfriends I can get my one guy to have. (My record, by the way, is eight. Plus also he has two boyfriends. Fun, fun...tee-hee.) Pointless existence!
Okay, not quite, I guess. But close. I will warn you...the Sims is really addictive and I find it really fun. Seriously, on You Tube there are like a million and one fun Sims cheats and glitches. And some that make me throw up in my mouth a little.

Still, in all, the Sims is like wicked awesome. I want to see the little green diamond icon on my desktop RIGHT NOW.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Bye. I'll go do the Physio-therapy stretches my physio-gal person set me up with. Ow.

P.S. I don't like my blogger template. I really liked the black...it makes it stand out that much more...

Clarabelle is getting Lonely

2008-11-05T07:39:00.001-06:00

guys, CLARABELLE is getting lonely. Will someone come pay her a visit???!?

Fun Elevator Stunts

2008-11-04T16:50:00.002-06:00

FUN STUFF TO DO ON AN ELEVATOR!!

1) CRACK open your briefcase or handbag, peer Inside and ask "Got enough air in there?"
2) STAND silent and motionless in thecorner facing the wall without getting off.
3) WHEN arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, thenact as if you're embarrassed when theyopen themselves.
4) GREET everyone with a warm handshake and ask him or her to call you Admiral.
5) MEOW occasionally.
6) STARE At another passenger for awhile. Then announce in horror: "You're one of THEM" - and back away slowly
7) SAY DING at each floor.
8) SAY "I wonder what all these do?" And push all the red buttons.
9) MAKE explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
10) STARE, grinning at another passenger for a while, then announce: "I have new socks on."
11) WHEN the elevator is silent, look around and ask: "Is that your beeper?"
12) TRY to make personal calls on the emergency phone.
13) DRAW a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers: "This is my personal space."
14) WHEN there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder, then pretend it wasn't you.
15) PUSH the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile, and go back for more.
16) ASK if you can push the button for other people but push the wrong ones.
17) HOLD the doors open and say you're waiting for your friend. After a while, let the doors close and say "Hi Greg,How's your day been?"
18) DROP a pen and wail until someone reaches to help pick it up, then scream:"That's mine!"
19) BRING a camera and take pictures of everyone in the lift.
20) PRETEND you're a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the Passengers.
21) SWAT at flies that don't exist.
22) CALL out "Group hug" then enforce it.

LOL I got these from Dibsy's blog...hilarious. Can't wait until my next elevator ride!!!

My Sweet New Avatar

2008-11-04T16:38:00.003-06:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... MY NEW AVATAR MADE IN PAINT.NET!

It took mighty concentration, grueling, slaving hours, but at last, the finished product!

(Okay, I lie. It took half a computers class at school, but still.)

Dum-duh-duh-DAH!!!

I love paint.NET. I took the fleur-de-lis, which is an awesome symbol even though I'm not from Quebec, and changed the color from gold to blue, made it outlined, made it slightly blurry, put it on a background homemade gradient, and last but not least my username: JCKANDY.

(In case anyone's wondering, pronounce it jay-see-kan-dee.)

Whoever wants to download it (which I highly recommend) do it here.

Happy Paint.Netting!!!

Parts of a Novel

2008-11-03T20:18:00.005-06:00

In school today, we learned about parts of a novel. I think it might be of use to me, and other people too, so I'll post them up here:

Almost all novels have a major problem of some type that they solve. This is introduced near the beginning of the story and most of the story is spent trying to solve this problem.

Through solving the problem an underlying idea, message, or moral is given by the author to the reader. This is called the theme.

The problem is worked out in certain surroundings of place and time. This makes up the setting.

What is done to solve the problem makes up the plot of the story. The plot, in its simplest form consists of:

the action that gets the story "off the ground" is called the motivating force or inciting incident.

After the story starts, difficulties are encountered. These are complications that make it more difficult to solve the problem.

when the greatest (and usually the final) difficulty appears, we say the story has reached its climax. It is usually the most exciting part of the book. The solution of the major problem usually occurs here.
after the climax, something usually happens before the very end that's not that exciting. This is the anticlimax. The author may tie up loose ends here.
The novel ends after the antimclimax with a conclusion.

5. Throughout the story there are scattered incidents (see complications) that keep up your strong feeling of curiosity as to what happens next. These elements of suspense have been used to keep you reading.

6. The characters in a novel usually represent a certain type of person. What character types are represented in this novel?

The characters are judged by:
what they do
what they say
what the author says about them

Novels may have both major and minor characters. The major characters are those that play a loarge role in the story. The minor characters are those that play a small role in the story and are often used by the major characters to solve the problem.

People who help to solve the problem of the novel and who would be thought of as "the good guys: are called protagonist. The characters that hinder the solution of the problem and are therfore though of as "bad guys" are called antagonists.

Candy and Volleyball

2008-11-01T19:17:00.004-06:00

Here are my candy stats:

Full-Size Chocolate Bars (not mini): 16
Mini Chocolate Bars: 69
Mini-Packs of Skittles: 3
Rockets: 8
Fizz: 2
Candy Bracelets: 2
Wagon Wheels: 2
Balloons: 1
Suckers: 15
Stickers: 1
Pop Rocks: 2
Jelly Bean Pen: 1
Mini Bags of Chips: 19
Mini-Pringles: 1
Rejects: 34

Rejects includes all the stuff I cannot or will not eat because of my braces, and the cheap crud that's just plain gross. Into that pile went a lot of Maynards. Of course, those numbers are not entirely accurate, because before I counted my sibs and I did our whole barter/trade/shuck away thing, so some was missing. Plus of course today the numbers are, well, lower.
This was my last year of trick-or-treating, so I tried to enjoy it, even though I don't really like trick-or-treating. It's kind of boring.

Today was Districts for V-ball. We lost to two teams and then beat the best team there! How ironic is that? That is so our team. Go Us. One of my team members, my buddy Alex, was really down cuz we were sucking and she had a headache or something. Her face, which is usually like beaming, was so sad. It gave me three feelings:
1. The kind that makes you wanna slap them or beat them up to make them get their head in the game from sheer fear, terror and intimidation (okay not really, just the one slapping part)
2. The kind that makes you wanna be all flowery, Hallmark, grandmotherly kind.
3. The kind that makes you wanna make them laugh so hard they pee themselves.

Of course, their are always, er, backfires to these plans.

3. They don't pay attention to the game, or the make the court slippery.
2. They feel sorry for themselves even more.
1. Take a wild guess.

But anyhoo, we did purdy good. I'm too lazy to type anymore, I'm gonna go knock down those candy stats a bit more while watching "Le Fantome De L'Opera." (If you're not French, that's "The Phantom of the Opera. If you're stupid, it means one of those fictional people that are not far below God. God is the most powerful almighty, of course, and Jesus is second in command, plus all the saints and Mary and all them. But after them, there is Bella, Edward, Jacob, Maximum Ride, and LFDLO, or TPOTO.)

Have A Grand Ole Time With Yo Halloween Candy!!!!

Halloween

2008-10-31T12:26:00.002-06:00

Well, everyone, it's Halloween. No school for me!
No, we do not get a holiday (I wish) but at the High School, the SRC set up this wicked awesome Haunted House. I get to act in it, being Secretary of the Elementary school. So I get to skip school and stagger towards the frightened tourists as they jostle for the escape door.

Ha ha.

Okay, so the high school kids are pretty much jerks about it, teasing, iffy language and a few fingers, but for the littler kids it'll be cool. High school was in the morning. My class went this morning too, even though we're ES, and I went with them. Even though I knew every setup and lots of the scares I still jumped/screamed/peed my pants every time. (JK on the last one.)

After school, I'm slipping on a fuzzy gorilla suit with my tattered zombie clothes over top, and gluing on this sweet werewolf nose.

Trick or treat!

EDWARD

2008-10-25T19:45:00.005-06:00

This, my friends, is the original, "slurpin' worth" picture...

Okay, so I don't really hang out with peeps who AREN'T in love with Edward Cullen, so naturally I have a lot of friends. My mom says someday it's gonna hit me that Edward ISN'T REAL, but till then I'm happy. Here's a few lovely pics me and my buddy Lizzy "fixed" on paint.NET

Here's the "vampire revealed..."Here's his true beauty...And here's the evidence of his slurpin' worthiness!

Mary Sue and Phantom of the Opera

2008-10-19T14:40:00.003-06:00

I got this from Jehsyka's blog, Autumn Rider, and I took the Mary Sue Litmus Test, (and I just figured out the links and am having a blast.) Ha-ha. Unfortunately, Clarabelle is an "Iredeemable Sue," and I don't know what that means, but it doesn't look good. Crapola.
On a sweeter note, last night I borrowed from my friend THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA, or as the Francais say, "Le Phantome De La Opera." With squigglies in there.
It was SWEET. I realized how pathetic I am when I recited the auctioneers' speech with him. (Lot 666, then. A chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera, a mystery never fully explained...) LOL. Go me.
Stuff I didn't like was...

--Some song lyrics were changed. This totally messed me up.
--Raoul's hair was long. Ew.
--Phantom's voice was kinda highish, not deep and rumbly like it should be.
--The chandelier falls BEFORE the masquerade.
--They talked some parts they should've sang. At the masquerade, Christine's supposed to sing, "Thiiink O-of it! A secret en-GAGE-ment, look. You're fu-TURE bride!...) Instead she talked it. Jeez, Christine. And the loser who directed it. It was still fairly fantabulous though. Buquet's death inspired me to hang a foam skeleton with twine in a little 2-D foam graveyard scene I did with my lil bro. Tee-hee.

Religion

2008-10-18T18:02:00.004-06:00

Today, I went to this program at my church with my Catechism class. I didn't really want to go at first. I mean, it was at nine o'clock in the morning on a Saturday! That's just not what I normally do. Sometimes I don't go to Mass on Sunday at nine, either. I'm a bad girl.

But whoa, was I ever glad I went today. Dude. It started out just with plain Mass upstairs, and my Catechism class (the seven of us) were the youngest ones there. Everyone else was either our parents or old people. I later realized I was the youngest one there! (But just by 20 days.)

After Mass we went downstairs and two women delivered speeches. The first was Michelle. I really really liked her. I foolishly agreed to be a volunteer (stupid, stupid) and Kristy blindfolded me, led me upstairs (and into a pole, ouch) and I had to wait there for a few minutes. Then Taylor came up with Kristy and they led me back down. I then had to find a chocolate bar by the small crowd yelling "hot" or "cold." Everyone hollered one or the other, but at the same time. I was trapped inside a white-and-green dish towel, arms outstretched, lost in a confusing muddle of overlapping voices. Not helpful, to say the least.

Anyhoo, Michelle eventually called me to a stop (time's up, she said) and was saying stuff like how finding Jesus is like being in a mass of confusion, with some voices louder than the others. You have to tune it all out and listen carefully for the truth. Very interesting, very effective.
Carmen is actually a published author. She wrote Arms of Love, a Christian novel about courtship. You shouldn't date until you're ready to be married, because dating is looking for the person you'll marry. She talked about how you shouldn't kiss until you meet the right person, cuz kissing is taking away treasures from the right person (husband or wife.) She said some peoples' first kiss is at the altar.
Sounds a bit extreme to me. I understand, or I think I do, why people would do that. It just makes the wedding day and maritial days that much better. But still, who can hold off that much temptation? And do you know many guys who would do that for you?
Michelle has a fiancee. His name is Sean, and they met, "courted" for two months and then he proposed. They haven't kissed or anything and aren't planning to until February 14th, when they say, "I do." I find that really sweet and cute and romantic. I deeply admire the pair for deciding that and following through with that.

All in all, it was really an inspiring and uplifting day. Will I follow through with all that courtship jazz? I might. Some of it, anyways. I mean, before I was all for my first real boyfriend and kiss and all that, but now I just wanna wait for my perfect dude. It'll be a fair few years, but it will be perfect. God has it all planned out, I'm sure, so I'll just hang tight till then. It will be a long wait, but He knows what He's doing.

Yeah. Go Roman Catholicism!

P.S. Carmen Marcoux also talked about something intriguing, something she called "love at no sight." She (or someone else, I dunno) said it struck them one day how much they loved their future husband. She didn't know him, but it would cross her mind, "I wonder what he's doing right now..." She'd pray for him. I think that's really cool, something possible only with God!

The only way for me to end this post... Amen!!!!!!!!!!!

jc pages

A Blank Page

Queen

Digging Down Deep for Motivation

For Your Amusement

A Successful Day

CSLC

Ghost Town

S.A.D.

...

Infatuated with the Arts

World Transitions

Rebelliousness

Photography

Horses

Hair and Photos (but not hairy photos)

Links

...

Snowstorms

Zen Mode

Hating Computers and Hardware

A Life-Changing Experience Before 7 AM

Busy, busy me.

Photographs

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Clover

110th Post

Recent Bulletins

NaNoWriMo

H1N1

My New Blog!!

Blossoming Love

Busy, Busy, Buzzlebee

BEST VIDEO EVAH

*Spooky*

Volleyball Tourney

Today Appears to be a Special Day

Griping

In Memory of Kane

Clubbin'

~

How can this be happening?

Lesson Learned

Bottom of the Food Chain

Dragonfly Symmetry

The Final Countdown

Midsummer Haze

I DID IT.

Cleaning Up of Cyberspace

~Heat Wave~

VOLLEYBLAST!

Events Past and Yet To Come

*Siiiigh*

School's Out For The Summer!

New Stuff Going On

The Sims 2

In Search of New Material

Limericks

Softball Season

Utter Worthlessness

iPods and Guinea Pigs

Starting Fresh

A Little Catching Up

PDFs--Mystery Discovered!

Just Dance!

Upcoming, Recent, and Present Stuff

Happiness

Movies

Writing...What Else?

WIP

Weekends and Week Ends

Vacation

Crushes and Other Stuff

Friday at Last

Braces

Free Write

Hockey

Winter Blues

Barack Obama's Inauguration

Flopped Predictions

Spooky

Siiiigh