School's Out For The Summer!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?