Exams

Late nights. Headaches. Dark circles under the eyes. What better way to explain the excitement of exam studying. You cram and you cram and the pressure isn't lifted. Even when it's all over, you have to wait a month or two until you get it back. So even though you're enjoying the peacefulness of the holidays, you're always thinking whether you did well on a test or not. Everyone says to relax and to just do the best you can, but how can you do that when in the back of your mind, you know that this will count for 20% of your grade. 'The key is to relax'...how does that work when you've stayed up until two in the morning studying and then have thrown back three cups of coffee. It's not a fun experience to go through. I've only taken exams three times so far. Twice last year and I'm in the middle of my third set. So far, I don't listen to the to the people who say 'Stop cramming at the last minute'. I for one have gone through many experiences in which what I look over before the test, turns out to be on a huge portion. I'm not saying not to study ahead of time. It is just sometimes helpful to look at your material before you walk in. Overall, the key is to go in with a positive attitude. Everyone gets nervous and it's almost impossible to prevent, but when you simply tell yourself that you know you'll succeed. It's in the bag. My point here is, you know this stuff and it's just review. It's a big deal, but you know you know this material. Be as positive as possible. I thought I was going to fail my math exam this morning. But once I got in the room and I told myself I was ready to face this upcoming challenge. I already felt smarter and more prepared. Remember that sports and school are 90% mental. It's all in your head. You know you're reading go in there and give it your all.

Poems

In the last two weeks, we've started a poetry project in English. We had to find poems about a certain theme from all different kinds of authors. My partner and I chose our theme to be children; Not poems for children, but poems about children. Another part of the project was to work on writing two poems by ourselves. Here are the two that I wrote.

Nostalgia:

Her hair so soft
It crumbles in my grasp
Fingers so small
Yet they will conquer the world
Her eyes so enormous
They envelop her entire face
She’s the little girl I used to be
And always wish to be

Love of childhood:

Alive, it hasn’t been long
With such a long road ahead
Trapped in my youth
Maturity seems out of reach
Yet, I do not long for old age
For now I am free of any burden
No reality to taint my dreams
For now, I cannot find a need to worry
I am glad to be innocent
And to have tranquility with the world
Today I am liberated from responsibility
There's no such thing as tomorrow

Thanksgiving Preparation

Just as I suspected. Everyone has taken their spots. The women in the kitchen and the men on the couch. The child has done her part in the kitchen and has now retired to her computer. A lot of cooks say that they love what they do because it might relax them or it comes easy and smooth to them. Well, I am definitely NOT one of those people. Cooking in general is difficult, but with all those people crowded around I couldn't hear myself think. I made the desserts and tried to help with the rice and ended up burning my finger. That's it for me and the kitchen. I try to accompany the men on the couch, yet that isn't very pleasant either. My father falls asleep and snores loud and clear into my ear during one of the most boring games of the season. The titans are so far ahead, that there is little to no suspense left in the game. What's a girl to do? And as I sit here complaining and moaning on about how boring it really is upstairs, I miss it. Actually, I'm going to go spend some time with my family now seeing that I won't be have them forever. I guess today, I'm thankful for them. I'm thankful for how much they love and adore me. My family is crazy and hectic and extremely sarcastic, but isn't that kind of exciting to have a bunch of crazy old farts in my life to cheer me up?

To Lose...

That gut wrenching ache. Mind racing. Heart Pumping. The only thought...'Where is it?' I have had a problem for a while that I always seem to forget things or lose them. It's one of the scariest feelings when you can't find something. Whatever it is (your homework, textbook, jacket, cell phone, entire purse, or laptop) makes you want to break down in tears. The best you can do is search. Every place you went you check every crack or crevice to see where it could have fallen into. Once the search is over and you've found it...I don't think the word relief is enough to explain how unbelievably happy and relaxed you are. But if not...you have to ask every friend where they have seen it, meaning you have to admit you've lost it. If this is the end of the road for you, you feel completely indebted to your friend that your 'thank-yous' won't end for another 24 hours. If no one knows, there's the lost and found on every floor of the school you must go through. If it's here, you feel some pride that you've worked so hard to get something back and it has finally paid off. If not, hope seems almost lost. Now you have to forgive yourself and not beat yourself up about it. If it's gone, it's gone. Sadly, if it was that important, you will always be on the lookout and hoping to find it, even though the chances are slim. The real way to find something is to prevent losing it in the first place. It's the only part of the equation that you really have responsibility for. As my mother always tells me, whenever you leave a room, check your vicinity. Make sure you've picked up everything. Also, check yourself. If there is some sort of weather abnormality, you want to make sure your prepared. There's also the fact that you don't want to walk anywhere naked. People usually loose things in the first place because they are moving too fast and aren't thinking. As I stress for the millionth time, I want everyone to just SLOW DOWN and take some time to relax. For sure, your percentage of losing ANYTHING will decrease. If only I could take my own advice...

Mood Swings

I find myself, like most teenagers, going through some pretty serious mood swings. Different things make me happy everyday and different things make me frustrated and extremely irritable. Our school uses a block schedule. So when I have a series of my favorite classes in a row, it seems to be that I am always nicer to people. But if I'm having a great day and then I have a really hard sports practice, I may start to bawl. I am deeply sorry for my mother seeing that she is the one to whom I relieve all of my stress to. I can blow up at her or I can cry on her shoulder. She helps me through a lot, but these mood swings have to stop! They are throwing me out of whack. I'll be super happy for an hour and a half and then break down with sadness. It's a terrible price to pay and I want to STOP! I want to get through these next few years and be rid of these intense emotions. Oh puberty, PLEASE end soon!

The Tale-Tell Heart Backstory

My English Project was to create a back story for the Narrator in 'The Tale-Tell Heart'. Here's what I came up with.


"You sit staring at me. Are you scared? My old cell mate hung himself because his intense fear overcame him. But you have no reason to be so afraid. I wouldn’t bother myself with you. If I did, you’d already be dead. Anyway, I wouldn’t contemplate your murder while we sit around like a bunch of lab rats being studied. I’ll be sitting in my cell alone for most of the day; contemplating my escape from this dungeon of an institute. They think I’m insane. Everyone here looks at me differently. I know I’m different, but it’s because I’m so much smarter. I’ve been born with the gift of knowledge and a heightened sense of hearing. It began once I came to the tenth grade and the children would yell the most horrid insults. My mind would twirl each time I was harassed. You could possibly say that these kids are to thank for the discovery of my powerful gift. I knew they were idiots, but somehow I let they’re mindless banter seep deep under my skin. Tears of frustration crawled out from the back of my eyes and haunted the skin on my cheeks. I tried to tune them out, but it wouldn’t stop. Eventually, being the perceptive student I was, I listened to them to see if I could possibly fix myself in any way in order to stop this torture. Nothing they said had any slice of truth. I concentrated into their voices. They differed from high to low, crackly to smooth, and fast to slow. But underneath all that, I could hear their thoughts. They all had problems with voices of their own that were instructing them to attack me. At that point I knew I had to use this supremacy to my benefit. It was no longer a simple schoolyard matter. I was going to be able to hear into the thoughts of the most powerful people in the world. Unlucky for me, those connections are slightly hard to come by. Yet that wouldn’t stop me. I could gain all of the information I needed within a 3 mile radius. I knew who were the wisest and who had gone through the most experiences. The challenge would be to find a suitable testing subject. Age became a large factor in my inner debate for the perfect candidate. Even if they couldn’t remember anything, I could reach back into their memory for anything I could possibly use. I then began to watch the elderly. Day after day I sat in hospitals, nursing homes, and sidewalks just to concentrate on their behavior. What intrigued them and what pissed them off? I volunteered down at the boarding house and was assigned to many different old women who I immediately rejected. They were complete imbeciles. The intellect of a woman was of no comparison to one of a man. I was then transferred to an old gentleman. His belly plump, hair white and thinning, lips sealed shut as if he had tasted something bitterly sour, and an eye. He was a sweet old man, with a quick wit. I knew he was perfect. Although that eye was so foggy, I wondered if he had walked through a cloud. It made me shudder, but I had no time for my petty phobias. I needed to get over it. Even though I knew for me it would be almost impossible. At this point, school was the least of my worries. I had much more to deal with now. I stayed with the man round the clock. I disguised myself and portrayed to him a completely different personality, since I knew he might report me if I acted like myself. You’ve heard that I murdered him because I couldn’t stand looking at that vulture eye, the one with the glassy layer. I couldn’t help myself. I knew from our first encounter that that eye had set off a ticking clock, waiting for me to bust. That eye was what set my mission off track. That’s why they figured me insane, yet they gave me no time to explain my completely logical explanation. It had threatened me. Clearly he had some sort of power over me. I could hear his thoughts, but he could see right through me. He knew I wasn’t so nice. Now that I had discovered his powers could triumph over mine, I had to destroy him."

The 'Wanna-be'

At school, the overall controversy for boys and girls seems to be popularity. No matter how independent minded they are, everyone thinks their life could be a little better if they were more popular. Popularity isn't a bad thing. That would be one of the LAST things I want you to get from this. Popularity is nice, but it's what you can do with it that matters. Anyway, the point is that some people go to drastic measures. What you don't want to be considered as is the 'Wanna-be'. If you're here, it means that you have changed who you are to be a little more popular. You always agree with people whom you think have some sort of a higher status. You never stick up for yourself. You reject true friends that really care about you. You sacrifice your goals and your dreams to follow someone else's. If you find yourself suffering from any one of these symptoms, you could be diagnosed as a 'Wanna-be'. If you find yourself in these positions, don't ask yourself what's wrong? Don't ask yourself what is so wrong with me that I can't be myself? Don't ask what is so wrong with me that I sacrifice my reputation and my friends to have one's that don't even care about me. Don't ask yourself any of these questions because the answer is nothing. Everyone has insecurities about themselves, but you can't let them dictate who you are as a person. The next time you feel the urge to ask yourself these questions, substitute this, 'What do I love about myself, and what can I do to be a better friend to the one's who love me for who I am?' This mind set will send you light years in front of every other girl in maturity.

Sweet paradise

I couldn't imagine any other place in the world that I'd rather be than the mountains of Lake Toxaway. With the hectic schedule that I have throughout the year, I need some peace and quiet with my cup of hot chocolate and the clean winds of North Carolina. There are so many things about the lake that make me feel at home. Lately I've been spending time on a friends dock. It's right on the water and is just gorgeous at every time of day. I just sit back and I don't have to listen to music or text on my phone. It's just so simple and beautiful and calming that I could stay there for the rest of my life. Most people wonder how I could possibly remain so isolated from the rest of the world for more than a couple of days and not die of boredom. Yet, why else would I love it. It's the simplicity of it all that makes me think. Possibly think too much. All of our lives are so chaotic and complicated that we think its normal and okay. If everyone's going through it, then I can suck it up. While I'm there, it makes me wish I could give up normality forever and be an outcast. I don't think a lot of people know of this luxury. Most people's idea of a vacation is sitting on a beach surrounded by a million crowds of people tanning to the point of skin cancer. Sometimes civilization can bring out the worst in people. I know that with my mountain air, homemade cranberry muffin from the little shop down the street, and my furry pink robe, I could spend the rest of my life being unlike everyone else.

An addiction especially for girls

You’d do anything to make it look perfect. Pay hundreds of dollars at a beauty salon, search through thousands of different shampoos to find the one that makes your beautiful locks do that cute bouncy thing, or even try the truly extreme and dangerous measures. Those dangerous measures include straightening and curling irons. You know they can damage your hair but you persist to use them again and again anyway. Truth is, it might help a lot during the first couple of weeks but that is all it takes to turn your hair into a birds nest. Such items are used on occasions but NOT every day. Using it to an extent like that becomes an addiction. One begins to think that they need this device and that it is the only thing keeping them breathing. Be smart! If you really want your hair to be perfect, the irons are the last place you would want to look.

School's out!!!!

Can you beleive it? The year has just flown by. Not that I'm unhappy or anything. We have graduated from middle school and can move onto bigger and better things. Come on! We have a name now. We are freshmen! No more numbers. High school teens are so much more mature and so much less mature at the same time. I'm not quite sure about the specific perks yet but I'll worry about that when school starts again. My summer is getting off to a great start! It has only been about six hours since school let out and I am in a beautiful resteraunt in palm beach gardens. It is far, far away from my home. I am ready for sleeping in, drinking summer smoothies, wearing super short shorts (just kidding dad), and meeting super cute beach boys (not so kidding). See you there!

Surgery

This weekend, I went through gum surgery. It is not like other surgeries that might be on your leg or arm. Having it done in the mouth means you remind yourself about every five seconds when you swallow. Plus, it bleeds a lot more. The first day in recovery I spent in bed with a nurse's mouth cover on holding ice in. Since my lips were so swollen, I could barely eat my milkshakes and ice cream. Tragic, huh? Although it was annoying and painful after the surgery, I was a nervous wreck before I went in. It was my first time under drugs and I didn't cry at all. I cried afterward as a side affect but while I wasn't exactly sane. They checked my blood pressure and my heart rate. It was at a 78. A bit nervous, you think? I woke up a few times, feeling nothing. I kept telling myself to fall asleep and have happy dreams. I was a tinny bit delirious. While I was leaving, I had this strange urge to tell the nurse Happy Birthday. I was probably one of the funniest patients they have had in a while. Now it is over and I will see how it looks once the stitches are removed next week. Thanks for everything Dr. Skinner!

Skiing vs. Snowboarding

There has always been a large amount of tension between the two types of snow sports. I am a skier and I understand both sides of the stories because I have many snowboarding friends. The view of the skiers is that all snowboarders are inconsiderate teenagers who don't understand the rules of the slopes. The view of the snowboarders is that skiers are filthy rich and snotty nose who get in their way of having fun. Now there is a certain amount of humor among friends where one may do the opposite than the other, but they all feel the tension. Thing about these two sports is that they are so very similar. Each athlete is sliding down a snow-covered mountain on a sliding object. Difference is that snowboarders use one and skiers use two. THAT'S IT! So next time you are skiing and you want to make an ugly face or finger for that matter, don't. Also, if you're snowboarding down and you think it would be funny to watch someone do a yard sale after you cut them off, please refrain. With a little consideration, these differences can be worked through by the next generation of snow athletes.

Moms

“Because I said so!” Every mother and daughter comes together in memories of these four words. They are pretty scary and are used in deep times of angst. I feel them reoccurring when the mother does not have a comeback to why her daughter should not do a certain thing while it is perfectly normal. She feels a little too overprotective. You may also recognize the fact that the words are overly used at bedtime when the mother bird needs a rest from the deep, long snores made by the father bird. Besides those instances, the mother finds herself embarrassing to her children on numerous occasions. Many times you may hear her yelling in the public bathroom “Wow honey, you really had to go.” She may scream at the top of her lungs while you’re in the school parking lot “Don’t forget to buy some tampons! You used up all the ones at home!” My favorite is when she walks into the cafeteria where you’re hanging out with your friends and says “Come on pumpkin, you have got to get home so you have time to take your bath.” Thing is, I like having my mom around to embarrass me. You might find it peculiar, but she makes it so I’m not too popular and I don’t get involved with the wrong crowd. She’s my security blanket and the one I talk to and tell everything to.

Dads

I still do not exactly understand how these creatures operate, but I try to do my best. They always seem to say that it is YOU that they trust, but they do not trust every other person on the planet. I have to control myself at sometimes and remind myself that I am still his little girl. Although when I try to tell him to remember what he was like when he was my age, he makes my curfew even earlier. The specific father that I control has bought an alarm system so that whenever a door or window has been touched, the alarm tells you exactly where and when that door or window was opened to the dangerous, outside world. Pretty clever, isn’t he! Somehow a dad will believe that going to the movies on a Friday night with the girls is like asking to become molested. Whenever I mention that all of my friends are going or doing something, he never seems to forget that corny, old saying that ‘if my friends jumped off a bridge, would I?’ I always want to come back and say, NO! If my friends jumped off a bridge, they’d be dead. Why would I want to do the same things as a dead person? Or for that matter, why would I want to be as cool as them if they were dead. No one I have spoken to and inquired these specifics has given me an answer. I conclude that nobody was thinking when they made it up. I have to hold in all my hateful words so I am not portrayed as disrespectful. I’m going through a hard learning process as teenager and I know he is too as a daddy. Deep down I know he is doing the right thing for me, even though it’s hard.

Clothing sizes

During junior high and high school, the size of your clothes seem to grow larger. I have always been known as a small girl and my drastic size changes is pretty dramatic. "We are growing ladies and this is supposed to happen to us. " These claims don't sooth my stress. Every day I tell myself I do not want to look like the stupid models in magazines and on TV shows. They have been airbrushed so many times that they don't even resemble their normal selves. Did you know that if Barbie was a real person, she would be so enormously unhealthy she couldn't possibly live. I do have to remind myself that I am a normal human being. I feel like I need to remind some other people that there is no need for them to starve themselves to get attention. Besides the fact, guys don't exactly like girls that are stick skinny. Guys on the other hand . . . well I'll talk about that area of confusion on another day.