Thursday, May 24, 2007
Keep in touch
This is my final post of this school year. Although this is my last post to count for the Honors English class, I don't think I will stop writing in my blog. I hope you do the same. Many of you don't know it, but I read everybodys blogs. I may not comment on them all, but I read them. So keep it up! Visit the discussion board regularly too. It's been a fun year, see you all later!
Book of memories
It’s now the end of the year, and on a day where I had some spare time I looked back at my old blog posts to see what I had written. Well, it was an interesting experience. In some of my posts I saw a silly girl who had too much sugar in her system. In some I saw a tired teenager who was writing a last minute blog at 11:00 Sunday night. In some I saw myself exhausted of topics and writing on something I didn’t care about one bit. Yet, in some of them, I saw wisdom I didn’t know I had. I have to say I was impressed, I had completely forgotten some of the stuff I wrote back then and then it pops up again months later, and I learned from it. I also learned what I look like when I’m tired, bored, and hyper. That was also a learning experience (but I won’t elaborate).
My curiosity sparked by this odd encounter with my past self, I started reading back through entries in my English journal and my personal journal. Wow! Again I surprised myself with bits of knowledge I happened to put down during a writing assignment or while writing in my journal at night. I never realized that I had so much to say, and that some of it was so deep. Truthfully, it was sort of eerie to be reading my old entries and being impressed with what they said, I mean, who admires their own logic?!? I guess I do now.
One noticeably common attribute of all the “records” was my voice. At the beginning of the school year it was fairly, well, dull. There was no spirit in it; it was only me writing down what I thought. No examples of my point, no exclamations of opinion, no nothing. It was just my outer shell showing in my work. As the year progressed, however, they became increasingly interesting (this is only my opinion). In the beginning it was a tidbit of what I REALLY felt about my chosen topic, then it progressed to me bravely making a statement that (heaven forbid) someone may disagree with. Finally, in the more recent ones, they finally were WORTH READING! They were actually filled with a voice which no longer belonged to a repetitive robot!
What I mean by this is that since the beginning of the year my writing voice seems to have taken on a rather, um… sarcastic but interesting tone. I don’t know if this is good or bad but I know it’s better than the timid thing it was in the beginning. I guess that writing every week really does improve your writing.
I can honestly say that I am glad I kept all those journals and wrote in my blog all this time, reading back brought back so many memories I had forgotten, and it was fun to read my old opinions (silly or insightful). This is why I advise you to pull out your journal from the depths of your closet and start to write in it again (I did this last night for the first time in months) and never, ever throw away a journal or forget about your blogs. I’m positive you will value them someday.
My curiosity sparked by this odd encounter with my past self, I started reading back through entries in my English journal and my personal journal. Wow! Again I surprised myself with bits of knowledge I happened to put down during a writing assignment or while writing in my journal at night. I never realized that I had so much to say, and that some of it was so deep. Truthfully, it was sort of eerie to be reading my old entries and being impressed with what they said, I mean, who admires their own logic?!? I guess I do now.
One noticeably common attribute of all the “records” was my voice. At the beginning of the school year it was fairly, well, dull. There was no spirit in it; it was only me writing down what I thought. No examples of my point, no exclamations of opinion, no nothing. It was just my outer shell showing in my work. As the year progressed, however, they became increasingly interesting (this is only my opinion). In the beginning it was a tidbit of what I REALLY felt about my chosen topic, then it progressed to me bravely making a statement that (heaven forbid) someone may disagree with. Finally, in the more recent ones, they finally were WORTH READING! They were actually filled with a voice which no longer belonged to a repetitive robot!
What I mean by this is that since the beginning of the year my writing voice seems to have taken on a rather, um… sarcastic but interesting tone. I don’t know if this is good or bad but I know it’s better than the timid thing it was in the beginning. I guess that writing every week really does improve your writing.
I can honestly say that I am glad I kept all those journals and wrote in my blog all this time, reading back brought back so many memories I had forgotten, and it was fun to read my old opinions (silly or insightful). This is why I advise you to pull out your journal from the depths of your closet and start to write in it again (I did this last night for the first time in months) and never, ever throw away a journal or forget about your blogs. I’m positive you will value them someday.
End
Two months ago, sometime in March I think, I wrote about how much I was going to miss Fairfield and how sad I was to go to high school. I don’t know what happened in the past two months, but I don’t feel that way anymore.
Ok, I’ll admit I am still sort of sad about the fact that a bunch of my friends are going to Davis, and I am going to miss some of my old teachers (I have had some really good ones this year) but now I’m really excited for high school, instead of dreading it. For one thing, every tenth grader I have ever spoken to says that high school is way more fun than junior high. When I hear this I go “how? Ninth grade has been so much fun! How can starting all over again be even better?” but it’s true, everyone I talk to says that ninth grade was awesome for them also, but tenth grade is ten times more fun. I guess I’ll just take their word for it.
I also like the idea that there are eight classes, four a day every other day. I don’t know why this seems so cool to me but it does, I guess I just like it because it will give variety day to day. I just hope I don’t get all my boring classes one day and all the fun ones the other, that would suck!
I am also pretty excited to see some of my old friends again. In seventh grade I was surprised to see that some of the friends I expected to see at Fairfield weren’t at Fairfield. I do know though, that they are going to Layton High. So I know that I will be able to see them again next year.
One last thing, I don’t know if the rest of you feel this way, but somehow I’m tired of Junior High. I’m tired of being around the seventh graders; they are so small and annoying! Though I love everyone at this school, it’s the same faces day after day. I want to meet someone new every now and then. I have walked the same halls every day for three years, and I’m tired of it (strangely enough, walking the same halls every day for three years was my reason two months ago that I didn’t want to leave). Anyways, I am ready to go, and I’m excited now! High school sounds so fun that I can’t wait for it now. I will miss Fairfield, I know I will be missing it a lot that first week of school at Layton. But now my excitement outdoes my sadness of leaving. Goodbye Fairfield!
Ok, I’ll admit I am still sort of sad about the fact that a bunch of my friends are going to Davis, and I am going to miss some of my old teachers (I have had some really good ones this year) but now I’m really excited for high school, instead of dreading it. For one thing, every tenth grader I have ever spoken to says that high school is way more fun than junior high. When I hear this I go “how? Ninth grade has been so much fun! How can starting all over again be even better?” but it’s true, everyone I talk to says that ninth grade was awesome for them also, but tenth grade is ten times more fun. I guess I’ll just take their word for it.
I also like the idea that there are eight classes, four a day every other day. I don’t know why this seems so cool to me but it does, I guess I just like it because it will give variety day to day. I just hope I don’t get all my boring classes one day and all the fun ones the other, that would suck!
I am also pretty excited to see some of my old friends again. In seventh grade I was surprised to see that some of the friends I expected to see at Fairfield weren’t at Fairfield. I do know though, that they are going to Layton High. So I know that I will be able to see them again next year.
One last thing, I don’t know if the rest of you feel this way, but somehow I’m tired of Junior High. I’m tired of being around the seventh graders; they are so small and annoying! Though I love everyone at this school, it’s the same faces day after day. I want to meet someone new every now and then. I have walked the same halls every day for three years, and I’m tired of it (strangely enough, walking the same halls every day for three years was my reason two months ago that I didn’t want to leave). Anyways, I am ready to go, and I’m excited now! High school sounds so fun that I can’t wait for it now. I will miss Fairfield, I know I will be missing it a lot that first week of school at Layton. But now my excitement outdoes my sadness of leaving. Goodbye Fairfield!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
I know I know... another boring assignment
Once again, sorry for putting you through the agony of reading a less than exciting school assignment as one of my posts. Lets face it, nobody ever reads these things. Anyways, here is my literary comparison on Walk two moons and To kill a Mockingbird.
The narrators in the books Walk Two Moons and To Kill a Mockingbird have similar voices and experiences, yet they differ at the same time. In both books there is a clear voice from each character and both have well defined personalities, which makes these books enjoyable to read and also similar in many ways.
Salamanca and Scout both like things the way they already are. Salamanca is severely distressed when she and her father move from their home in Kentucky.
“Just over a year ago, my father plucked me up like a weed and took me and all our belongings (no, that is not true- he did not bring the chestnut tree, the willow, the maple, the hayloft, or the swimming hole, which all belonged to me) and we drove three hundred miles straight north and stopped in front of a house in Euclid, Ohio.” –Salamanca
Salamanca is not at all happy at the move, she loved her old home. She wishes she could go away from the “rows of birdhouses” which make up her new neighborhood and return to her country home in Kentucky. Scout is the same way,
“…our summertime boundaries (within calling distance of Calpurnia) were Mrs. Henry Lafayette Dubose’s house two doors to the north of us, and the Radley Place three doors to the south. We were never tempted to break them…”-Scout
Scout is happy with the way things are and isn’t tempted to cause trouble. She has always done things one way and feels agitated when she is forced to change those ways, such as when Jem starts thinking he is too old for her and when Aunt Alexandra starts wanting her to wear dresses. You can guess without these examples that both girls prefer things to stay the same and don’t like change. I think both girls are smart in this way, I have never been one to stir up trouble and when I read about someone who does it makes me cringe. Both of these characters, however, handle themselves well and the stories flow easily because of their ability to go with the flow of life.
One difference between Salamanca and Scout, however, is their level of craving for information. Scout sucks up every bit of information about anybody and anything. She craves learning and gossip, every bit of information is useful and interesting to her.
“ ‘Lets go in.’ said Dill.
‘Naw, we better wait till they get in, Atticus might not like it if he sees us… we sped ahead of Reverend Sykes to the courtroom floor…we went up a covered staircase to the black balcony.”- Scout
Scout is so anxious to learn about the trial she pushes past people and hides from Atticus, otherwise she might be sent away. On the other hand, Salamanca wants nothing to do with her past. She wants to forget everything and pretend nothing has changed, although she knows her mother is dead.
“I prayed that we would get there by my mothers’ birthday- seven days- and that we would bring her home.”-Salamanca
Scout lives her life by the facts, Salamanca lives hers by fairytales. Scout ponders everything and wants to learn more and more about life and the people around her. Salamanca is content to push away any substantial information about her mother and accept what she has convinced herself is truth. Why does Salamanca live like this? I think she is afraid of the truth because her life is far from perfect, so she makes up a story that seems to make it all better, while it really makes it worse. I think Scout is the smarter one: she sucks up every bit of information and then pieces it together as she lives her life, she uses her brain to solve her problems and I think eventually, comes to terms with life more effectively than Salamanca does.
Another similarity between Salamanca and Scout is that they both always see the good in other people. Until Salamanca met Phoebe, she thought that although Mrs. Cadaver was a strange woman, she wasn’t all bad. She also felt sympathy for Mrs. Winterbottom when she left for a few days because she could see the good intentions in her act (Phoebe freaks out and thinks the lunatic kidnapped her).
“ ‘Oh Sal, come see Margaret.’ The lady with the wild red hair was Margaret…”
Scout is devoid of playmates her own age until Dill comes in the summer, and even then she is sometimes left by him. She quickly learns how to get along with the elderly people in her town because of this. She also is one of the few to realize that Tom Robinson meant no harm to anyone, he was framed for no reason at all. The entire theme of To Kill a Mockingbird is presented through Scout, and her realizing that not only should you look for the good in everyone, but don’t hurt anyone for no reason when you know that what you are doing is wrong.
"Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mocking bird."- Miss Maudie
In both books, a clear theme is shown. And the theme is shown through the characters, Salamanca and Scout. Don’t judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins, in other words, don’t hurt someone until you do what they have had to. Between running from the lunatic, or shooting Tom Robinson, people may have been smart to consider that thought.
The narrators in the books Walk Two Moons and To Kill a Mockingbird have similar voices and experiences, yet they differ at the same time. In both books there is a clear voice from each character and both have well defined personalities, which makes these books enjoyable to read and also similar in many ways.
Salamanca and Scout both like things the way they already are. Salamanca is severely distressed when she and her father move from their home in Kentucky.
“Just over a year ago, my father plucked me up like a weed and took me and all our belongings (no, that is not true- he did not bring the chestnut tree, the willow, the maple, the hayloft, or the swimming hole, which all belonged to me) and we drove three hundred miles straight north and stopped in front of a house in Euclid, Ohio.” –Salamanca
Salamanca is not at all happy at the move, she loved her old home. She wishes she could go away from the “rows of birdhouses” which make up her new neighborhood and return to her country home in Kentucky. Scout is the same way,
“…our summertime boundaries (within calling distance of Calpurnia) were Mrs. Henry Lafayette Dubose’s house two doors to the north of us, and the Radley Place three doors to the south. We were never tempted to break them…”-Scout
Scout is happy with the way things are and isn’t tempted to cause trouble. She has always done things one way and feels agitated when she is forced to change those ways, such as when Jem starts thinking he is too old for her and when Aunt Alexandra starts wanting her to wear dresses. You can guess without these examples that both girls prefer things to stay the same and don’t like change. I think both girls are smart in this way, I have never been one to stir up trouble and when I read about someone who does it makes me cringe. Both of these characters, however, handle themselves well and the stories flow easily because of their ability to go with the flow of life.
One difference between Salamanca and Scout, however, is their level of craving for information. Scout sucks up every bit of information about anybody and anything. She craves learning and gossip, every bit of information is useful and interesting to her.
“ ‘Lets go in.’ said Dill.
‘Naw, we better wait till they get in, Atticus might not like it if he sees us… we sped ahead of Reverend Sykes to the courtroom floor…we went up a covered staircase to the black balcony.”- Scout
Scout is so anxious to learn about the trial she pushes past people and hides from Atticus, otherwise she might be sent away. On the other hand, Salamanca wants nothing to do with her past. She wants to forget everything and pretend nothing has changed, although she knows her mother is dead.
“I prayed that we would get there by my mothers’ birthday- seven days- and that we would bring her home.”-Salamanca
Scout lives her life by the facts, Salamanca lives hers by fairytales. Scout ponders everything and wants to learn more and more about life and the people around her. Salamanca is content to push away any substantial information about her mother and accept what she has convinced herself is truth. Why does Salamanca live like this? I think she is afraid of the truth because her life is far from perfect, so she makes up a story that seems to make it all better, while it really makes it worse. I think Scout is the smarter one: she sucks up every bit of information and then pieces it together as she lives her life, she uses her brain to solve her problems and I think eventually, comes to terms with life more effectively than Salamanca does.
Another similarity between Salamanca and Scout is that they both always see the good in other people. Until Salamanca met Phoebe, she thought that although Mrs. Cadaver was a strange woman, she wasn’t all bad. She also felt sympathy for Mrs. Winterbottom when she left for a few days because she could see the good intentions in her act (Phoebe freaks out and thinks the lunatic kidnapped her).
“ ‘Oh Sal, come see Margaret.’ The lady with the wild red hair was Margaret…”
Scout is devoid of playmates her own age until Dill comes in the summer, and even then she is sometimes left by him. She quickly learns how to get along with the elderly people in her town because of this. She also is one of the few to realize that Tom Robinson meant no harm to anyone, he was framed for no reason at all. The entire theme of To Kill a Mockingbird is presented through Scout, and her realizing that not only should you look for the good in everyone, but don’t hurt anyone for no reason when you know that what you are doing is wrong.
"Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mocking bird."- Miss Maudie
In both books, a clear theme is shown. And the theme is shown through the characters, Salamanca and Scout. Don’t judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins, in other words, don’t hurt someone until you do what they have had to. Between running from the lunatic, or shooting Tom Robinson, people may have been smart to consider that thought.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Memoir of a Murdered Hamster
I wrote this as an assignment for creative writing. It's a true story. Bear in mind that I was only five, and had no idea what I was doing when this occured!
It is a big responsibility to have a pet. You have to clean its cage every single week, you have to feed it, and keep it happy. Most of all you have to love it. The more you love your pet, the happier it will be, and the happier it is, the more it will love you. That’s why I love my hamster very much. I want it to love me too, so I play with it all the time and make sure that it is never bored or sad.
I am only five years old, but I am very responsible. I know how to keep my hamster, Beauty, very happy and make her love me. I know how to give her tiny pellets of hamster food and sunflower seeds when she is hungry. When her cage gets dirty, I clean out every piece of shredded tissue paper and replace it with fresh, new tissue paper. Because I take such good care of her, Beauty and I are best friends.
Sometimes me and Beauty play games, her favorite one is swing, where I swing her back and forth in my arms and she gets all jiggled and jittery. Another one she likes is racing. I help her get buckled in my Barbie car and push her in it around my bedroom, sometimes she jumps our, but I know that she actually likes it. Sometimes I help her balance on balls or slide down the little orange slide outside. I think one day she will be able to do these tricks on her own and will be famous for being the world’s smartest hamster, but right now I still have to help her.
One time something strange happened when Beauty was playing airplane with me. I was flying her around high above my head and we where having lots of fun together, when suddenly she went limp in my hand. When I put her back in her cage she didn’t get up and hide in her cardboard tube like she usually does, instead she just laid there. I started to cry big raindrop tears, spilling down my pink Lion King t-shirt. Beauty was dead! We had been playing a game and she was dead! Mom came and helped me stop crying, and then told me to look in the cage. Beauty was running in her hamster wheel just like she always did! She was ok! Mom explained to me that sometimes when hamsters feel like they are in danger, they pretend to be dead so that the danger will leave them alone. I guess airplane didn’t make Beauty feel safe, so I decided that we shouldn’t play it anymore.
Today I thought of a brand new game for me and Beauty to play. I would put her in my plastic drum with all of the other instruments in it, and then shake it so that she could slide and bounce on them. I excitedly pry her out of her cardboard tube and put her in the drum. What fun she was going to have! I wish that I could be the one who got to play in the drum! Too bad I was so big that I couldn’t fit. I gleefully started to shake the drum, up and down, left and right, around in a circle. I could picture her sliding on the metal cymbals, then bounce of the harmonica and have a crazy ride in there! “That’s long enough!” I say to Beauty as I pull of the lid of the drum. She is lying very still again, just like when she played dead a few days ago. I guess she didn’t feel safe in this game either. “Ok we won’t play this one again, ok Beauty?” I reassuringly tell her as I lay her in the shredded tissue in the bottom of her cage. “See you in a few minutes, after dinner!”
After dinner, I skip back to my bedroom to play with Beauty again. This time we will drive in her car, since the drum game wasn’t fun for her. Wait a minute, she still hasn’t woken up! I wonder why? That’s really strange. I run to get mom. “Mom! Beauty is playing dead again and won’t wake up!”
Mom gets a weird look in her eye. “Let me come see.”
When we get to my bedroom mom gets a sad look on her face. “How long has Beauty been asleep?”
“Well, I shook the drum with her in it and she has been playing dead ever since.” I explain.
Mom sadly says that Beauty wasn’t playing this time, she really is dead. I shook the drum too hard. I start to sob and sink to the floor as I realize what I have done. “I killed her! I killed her!” I wail as mom tries to comfort me. I stay there for a long time, and then although tears are still dripping from my swollen eyes I stand up and peer in the cage.
Beauty doesn’t look like she is sleeping, not anymore. She looks dead. Cold and dead. I am a very responsible five year old who knows how to feed, and clean, and love, and kill her hamster.
It is a big responsibility to have a pet. You have to clean its cage every single week, you have to feed it, and keep it happy. Most of all you have to love it. The more you love your pet, the happier it will be, and the happier it is, the more it will love you. That’s why I love my hamster very much. I want it to love me too, so I play with it all the time and make sure that it is never bored or sad.
I am only five years old, but I am very responsible. I know how to keep my hamster, Beauty, very happy and make her love me. I know how to give her tiny pellets of hamster food and sunflower seeds when she is hungry. When her cage gets dirty, I clean out every piece of shredded tissue paper and replace it with fresh, new tissue paper. Because I take such good care of her, Beauty and I are best friends.
Sometimes me and Beauty play games, her favorite one is swing, where I swing her back and forth in my arms and she gets all jiggled and jittery. Another one she likes is racing. I help her get buckled in my Barbie car and push her in it around my bedroom, sometimes she jumps our, but I know that she actually likes it. Sometimes I help her balance on balls or slide down the little orange slide outside. I think one day she will be able to do these tricks on her own and will be famous for being the world’s smartest hamster, but right now I still have to help her.
One time something strange happened when Beauty was playing airplane with me. I was flying her around high above my head and we where having lots of fun together, when suddenly she went limp in my hand. When I put her back in her cage she didn’t get up and hide in her cardboard tube like she usually does, instead she just laid there. I started to cry big raindrop tears, spilling down my pink Lion King t-shirt. Beauty was dead! We had been playing a game and she was dead! Mom came and helped me stop crying, and then told me to look in the cage. Beauty was running in her hamster wheel just like she always did! She was ok! Mom explained to me that sometimes when hamsters feel like they are in danger, they pretend to be dead so that the danger will leave them alone. I guess airplane didn’t make Beauty feel safe, so I decided that we shouldn’t play it anymore.
Today I thought of a brand new game for me and Beauty to play. I would put her in my plastic drum with all of the other instruments in it, and then shake it so that she could slide and bounce on them. I excitedly pry her out of her cardboard tube and put her in the drum. What fun she was going to have! I wish that I could be the one who got to play in the drum! Too bad I was so big that I couldn’t fit. I gleefully started to shake the drum, up and down, left and right, around in a circle. I could picture her sliding on the metal cymbals, then bounce of the harmonica and have a crazy ride in there! “That’s long enough!” I say to Beauty as I pull of the lid of the drum. She is lying very still again, just like when she played dead a few days ago. I guess she didn’t feel safe in this game either. “Ok we won’t play this one again, ok Beauty?” I reassuringly tell her as I lay her in the shredded tissue in the bottom of her cage. “See you in a few minutes, after dinner!”
After dinner, I skip back to my bedroom to play with Beauty again. This time we will drive in her car, since the drum game wasn’t fun for her. Wait a minute, she still hasn’t woken up! I wonder why? That’s really strange. I run to get mom. “Mom! Beauty is playing dead again and won’t wake up!”
Mom gets a weird look in her eye. “Let me come see.”
When we get to my bedroom mom gets a sad look on her face. “How long has Beauty been asleep?”
“Well, I shook the drum with her in it and she has been playing dead ever since.” I explain.
Mom sadly says that Beauty wasn’t playing this time, she really is dead. I shook the drum too hard. I start to sob and sink to the floor as I realize what I have done. “I killed her! I killed her!” I wail as mom tries to comfort me. I stay there for a long time, and then although tears are still dripping from my swollen eyes I stand up and peer in the cage.
Beauty doesn’t look like she is sleeping, not anymore. She looks dead. Cold and dead. I am a very responsible five year old who knows how to feed, and clean, and love, and kill her hamster.
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