Did Ya Miss Me?

My friend recently started a blog. It's called Moore of Me and the first post was pretty great (It might have something to do with how the post was mostly about me.) But now I feel all competitive. So I'm back and better than ever!

Actually, unfortunately, I don't have time to write anything tonight, so here's a quick play I wrote for a musical theater class I'm in. I'm sorry it sucks, but it had to be suitable for children and had to follow the theme "Jersey Girls Go To Therapy". There are so many parts because everyone is supposed to have a line. Anyway, here you are:

Jersey Girls Go To Therapy

 Scene 1

(Only one side of stage is lit, where 13 Jersey Girls, Jane, and Mary stand by a store.)

JANE

I don’t think we should do this…

JENNA

Well, we’re out of tanning oil.

BRITNEY

What else are we going to do?

MARY

But stealing?! What if we get caught?

MICHELLE

We won’t get caught. Don’t worry.

LYNN and LUANNE

We’ve done this before. It’s easy.

AMY

Now remember everyone, only take what fits in your purse.

CARRIE

Ready everybody?

EVERYONE (except Mary and Jane)

Yeah!

GIANNA

Let’s go!

(Lights go out on that side of stage. Lights come up on the other side of stage, where the other 13 Jersey Girls, Anne, and Beth are standing outside a tanning salon.)

ANNE

I don’t want to go tanning! It gives you cancer.

KAYLA

Oh, don’t be such a scaredy cat.

ABBY

It’s fun!

CHLOE

And it looks good.

BETH

But you’re supposed to have a parent with you. It says so.

MADDIE

No one cares about that.

SOPHIA

And besides, do you have to do everything your mommy says?

OLIVIA

I think Beth and Anne are chickens!

(the whole group taunts Beth and Anne)

Scene 2

(The girls go home to their moms, who are sitting together talking.)

JULIE

Do you like our tans? (gesturing to entire group)

MOM 1

Girls!

MOM 2

How did you get those?!

ASHLEY

We got tanning oil! (gesturing to first group)

MOM 3

And how did you get that tanning oil?

MOM 4

It’s expensive.

MOM 5

Where did you get the money?

(Group 1 umms and uhhs)

ISABEL

Well, we went to the tanning salon! (gesturing to second group)

MOM 6

And how did you get in without a parent?

(Group 2 umms and uhhs)

MOM 7

Mom huddle! (the moms huddle together, whispering)

MOM 8

Girls, we’ve come to a decision.

MOM 9

It hasn’t been easy, but…

MOM 10

We think you need some therapy.

Scene 3

(Therapists office. The Moms are talking to Dr. Moon, Dr. Who, Dr. Sun, Dr. Star, and Dr. Space.)

MOM 11

So, as you see, doctors, our girls have some… problems.

MOM 12

We’re hoping you can help them.

MOM 13 (sobbing)

Please save our little babies!!!

MOM 14

Shh, it’s okay, they’ll help us. (looks at doctors) Right?

DR. WHO

Yes, I see. Well, we’ll have a chat with the girls and see what we can do.

(10 chairs are set up onstage, in pairs facing each other. In each pair there is a doctor and a girl)

BRIANNA

But everything on the Jersey shore is so expensive! You can’t expect kids to pay for all of it!

DR. SUN

No, but you can afford what you need. Do you really need a tan?

BRIANNA (glaring)

Totally.

ELLA

Hey, don’t blame me. I was just doing what everyone else was doing.

DR. MOON

If you feel uncomfortable, maybe you don’t have to follow everyone else.

ELLA

Maybe…

LIA

We didn’t think we were doing anything that wrong… we were only taking a little suntan lotion from that store.

DR. STAR

But how would you feel if someone stole your suntan lotion?

LIA

I would be so mad!!! Oh… I see what you mean…

ANNE

Look, mister doctor, I didn’t want to do it in the first place. I’m a good girl. But they forced me to!

DR. SPACE

Did they really force you to? Or could you have walked away?

ANNE

I suppose…

ALYSSA (almost crying)

Do you know how hard it is to fit in here? We needed all the help we could get!

DR. WHO

What are you talking about? You have so many friends already, and you’re all beautiful! Just the way you are!

ALYSSA

You know what… You’re right! Thanks!

DR. WHO

Why don’t you go tell your friends that?

Scene 4

(The Jersey Girls and moms are in the waiting office)

LIZA

This is stupid! Let’s get out of here!

VICKI

Yeah, I want to go party!

MOM 15

No girls, you can’t leave! Not yet!

MOM 16

You have to wait until your therapist appointments!

VANESSA

Fight the moms! We’re getting out of here!

(The Jersey Girls fight the moms and are about to escape when Brianna, Ella, Lia, Anne, and Alyssa come in)

ALYSSA

WAIT!

LIA

Don’t go! We have something to tell you!

ELLA

We totally don’t have to tan to be beautiful.

BRIANNA

I mean, come on. We’re already perfect.

ANNE

And stealing is mean!

ALYSSA

We can just play in the sand all day at the beach!

ARI

Yeah… that’s what we’re here for, anyway, right? Not tanning.

(Other Jersey Girls mutter in agreement)

ALEXANDRA

Well, what are we waiting for, you guys? Come on!

DIANA

Let’s go to the beach… and actually swim!!

(They all run offstage)

So... that's that. It looks really long, but if you performed it, it would be less that 7 minutes long. Anyway, I hope I'll be writing here more often. Talk to you guys soon.

Twelve Days of Eighth Grade

I made this up while procrastinating. It's not bad, if I do say so myself. (By the way, I put very little effort into this, so sorry if you don't like it).

12 Days of Eighth Grade

On the first day of eighth grade my school gave to me

A textbook from the eighties.

On the second day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the third day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the fourth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the fifth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the sixth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the seventh day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Seven hours of torture

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the eighth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Eight different periods

Seven hours of torture

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the ninth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Nine clubs I’m joining

Eight different periods

Seven hours of torture

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the tenth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Ten mental breakdowns

Nine clubs I’m joining

Eight different periods

Seven hours of torture

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the eleventh day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Eleven books at once

Ten mental breakdowns

Nine clubs I’m joining

Eight different periods

Seven hours of torture

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

On the twelfth day of eighth grade my school gave to me

Twelve projects—due now!

Eleven books at once

Ten mental breakdowns

Nine clubs I’m joining

Eight different periods

Seven hours of torture

Six pop quizzes

Five hours of sleep!

Four friends a-fighting

Three hours of homework

Two tests tomorrow

And a textbook from the eighties.

 Happy Holidays!!!

I'm A Teenager!

Yeah, I've been 13 for several months now... since September 3rd... I just have NOT had time.

Life is good. I'm in the 8th grade now, which is tiring, but very fun. What can I say, it's FUN ruling the school. Especially when I can still think back to my 6th grade days, when I was absolutely terrified of 8th graders. And now I am one! I plow through kids in the hallway instead of dodging them, because I'm allowed!

There is one catch. I'm younger than almost everyone in my grade. I just barely made the cutoff date. Joshie was younger than me (remember him, from Yes, Even I Have Romances With my Occaisional Comedian ?) because he was British and they do grades differently than us, but he's moved to North Carolina now. :( I guess we just weren't meant to be. So anyways, I'm not sure, but I think I may be the youngest person in the 8th grade now. There's actually a 7th grader who's several months older than me... but I'm an upperclassman, so I still get seniority and the right to plow through him as I choose.

Here's how the attitudes pretty much work in our school: the 6th grade is too overwhelmed to do much but stay out of the way and occasionally look cute/ be annoying, the 7th grade is happy to be older than at least someone and is much too confident, and the 8th grade doesn't give a crap. By the way, no one reads this blog who's under 12, I don't think, and you've all heard them, and everyone does it, and I've matured a lot in the past 3 months, so I'll start using minor curse words. Yay Gracie!! Big Accomplishment!!!

Also, since I'm 13 now and becoming a surly teenager, I'll probably have a lot more posts where I'm mad at my parents. It's kind of sad, actually... because I'm the sensitive person I am, I can actually see myself getting moodier and more churlish, which I don't want to be. But whatever. I'll survive. Most teenagers do. Except for the one's that don't.

Ugh, why do I always start getting all deep when I type here?

What to write about now... tum dee dum dee dum.... well, I actually have a lot to write about, so much it's going to get a separate post. But oh yeah!

I got a Facebook! Technically I got it when I was 12, since I got it on my birthday, but before the TIME I was born (12:33pm). So suck it, Facebook! Oh yeah! Beating the system!

I was really excited about getting a Facebook because although not all of my friends from my grade have one (actually, very few friends from my grade have one... only about 5 or 6... and I have more friends then that, trust me. At least 7.), friends I don't see very often have one. I can keep in touch.

I find it funny, really, because my parents made me wait until I was 13 to sign up, but many peoples' parents didn't. There are all these people I know who are my age (or okay, since they're in my grade, a couple of months older) who are supposedly, like, 25. I'll get a notification: Blahdina Blahzini is turning 24 today. Wish her a happy birthday! I'll just smile and say something like "Oh silly Facebook... fooled so easily..."

This actually leads me into my next point: age. You have to be 13 to sign up for Facebook, but you can't do it if you're turning 13 tomorrow (believe me. I've tried.) A lot of jobs do this too-- you have to be 17 or something like that. Really, what's the difference between the last day when you're one age and the first day when you're another? Nothing really changes, does it? What's the point? If the person thinks they're mature enough, and the employer, or website, or whatever thinks the person is mature enough, what does their age have to do with anything? I think you should have to take a quiz determining whether or not you're ready to go on Facebook, regardless of your age. Because I was definitely ready for Facebook, in my late 11s, early 12s. But there are some people I see on there, older than me, who probably shouldn't be.

Well, that got a bit confusing at the end.

The moral of the story is... don't judge a book by it's cover.
That doesn't relate to the post at all, but it's a pretty foolproof moral.

Here is a picture about Facebook:

And here is just a funny picture:

 

Yay kitties!!!!! I love cats. Good night!

Welcome Back!

Today I had a chocolate milk. The kind that comes in a cardboard box and has a little straw and a cow on the side and doesn't need to be refrigerated for some reason. It made me feel young because my mom used to put those in my lunchbox. Why does fridge have a "D" in it if refrigerator doesn't?

Anyway, I'm ignoring the question you're all obviously asking. Where the firetruck was I this whole time? Well, it's nice to know I have fans who care enough to actually tell me to write a new blog. Speaking of which, when are YOU going to write a new blog, C-Rope? I've been waiting. You're just as bad as me! Completely ignore the past 3 sentences if you don't know what they mean.

But I'm still avoiding the pressing matter of what I was doing this whole time when I wasn't blogging. Well, unlike some of you, I actually have a life. No, no, I'm just kidding. I don't have a life either. But... I do! I was living it all summer! So that must mean... all of you have lives too! Phew. What a relief. I thought all my friends were dead.

So the matter of what I was doing... are you enjoying my procrastination? Have you noticed that I've avoided the topic for 4 paragraphs? I can do this for a loooooong time. Believe me. I have a LOT of trouble doing homework. Speaking of which, school starts in less than a week and I haven't done my summer reading yet. Sure I've read lots of books this summer. No really, a lot of books. Like at least 56. Probably more. But see, we have to write journal entries on our books. 3 per book! And 2 books! That's... um... that's 6 entries! No actually, I'm really good at math, just not linear functions, so that somehow makes me bad at my entire math class. Anyway, did I ever mention how analyzing ruins the book? Nothing ruins a good book like writing journal entries on it. So the question is.... ruin a good book, or just make a bad book worse?  Whatever. It all sucks anyway.

I'm sorry I'm being depressing. I just don't want to go back to school. It seemed like the summer just flew by. Probably because I was so busy... Oh, no! you aren't going to find out what with! Don't think you can trick it out of me! Because you can't. God, I'm turning into the blogged version of nigahiga. Wouldn't it be cool if I was famous enough so he would say in one of his rants: "God, I'm turning into the YouTube version of Amazing Gracie." Yes it would be cool. He gets, like 2 million views.

Well, I was very busy over the summer, but the things I did were so epic that they get separate posts. But you'll be hearing more from me. Hopefully. Or I'll procrastinate again. Funny pictures!

 

Fine pictures, since there's only 1. There's a line through that S. You can't really see it. 

The Happiest Time of Year

 Yes, the century has passed where the happiest time of year for a child was Christmas, or spring, or their birthday. Yes, yes sir, nowadays the pressure school puts on America's precious youth leaves them can't waiting to get away. But that doesn't matter now because IT'S SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER SUMMER okay I'm done. That was 256 summers, the amount of summers I plan to live through. Impossible, you say? Nothing is impossible when it's summer. Except for being sad.
Anyway, you know the saying... "No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks." Well, it's not quite the same. With me there's still pencils, but for drawing or writing stories, not writing compare/contrast essays and filling out Scantrons. There's still books, but the books I want to read, and I won't have to analyze each chapter individually like a butterfly under a microscope. (Really, there's nothing worse than ruining a good book by having to write journal entries, and take post its. Really, is it going to help you remember and understand the book better if your flow is interrupted every two minutes so you can put in a post it?) There will even still be teachers dirty looks, but they will be on TV, directed at actors.


Anyway, now that school is over, I'm looking forward to summer. Changing your average bedtime from 9:00-10:00 to 1:00-2:00. I like nothing better than it being really, really late at night and everything is quiet and you feel like the only person in the world. I watch movies on TV or read or write or draw, or this summer I have the option of blogging too. As a matter of fact, currently it's about 11:30.

I'm wearing this awesome, super lightweight nightgown that would have been popular in the 1930's. Here's a sort of glorified picture. I don't actually look like this in real life. I just want to.

Anyway, What do you think about grades. I have two things about grades, but that makes sense, considering that its two types of grades I'm talking about. First of all, I'm kind of dreading getting my report card. My math grade kind of dropped in the last marking period... I'm most definitely not going to be in honors math next year. As a matter of fact, I'd be happy to get above a D+ currently. Now, don't get me wrong. You've read this blog. You know I'm smart. But I was never good at algebra, and I truly suck at linear functions, which is basically what our entire fourth marking period was about.

I'm not going to get my report card until I go to the school and return my overdue library books anyway. Yeah... gotta do that some time.....

Let's not worry about these things now. No, as I'm certain I've said, it's SUMMER! You aren't allowed to worry or think about school. It's the same thing, anyway.

My other thing about grades is the one you're in. If you leave seventh grade, are you a seventh grader, an eighth grader, or in some gradeless limbo between the two? I go with the latter. You aren't still in seventh grade, but you aren't in eighth grade yet either. I mean, you aren't a kindergartener the summer before you go to kindergarten. Sooo... yeah. Don't ask me what grade I'm in during the summer. I'll just end up confusing everyone involved.

Just on a separate note, I feel so bad for those people who have to get tutors during the summer so the can "keep up their learning styles" and "get ahead for the next year". What parent could possibly hate their kid enough to send them for the summer?


So I will try to find room for blogging in my busy schedule... you know, reading, sleeping, hanging, relaxing, loitering, musing, watching TV. But seriously, I am going to be in two plays (the summer play for the high school and the summer play for the junior school; more on those later), I'm on swim team that meets every day, not including meets, I babysit, I bike, I'm taking guitar lessons, I'm teaching myself to play Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars on the piano, and I have to find time for all that other stuff too. And I tend to be less responsible during the summer.

Anyway, to quote the words of (the song by) Alice Cooper, who is actually a dude,

"Schoooooooooollllll'sss out for summeer!" *neer neer on guitar*

Have a GREAT summer, everyone!

A Lost Generstion?

I think this is really interesting... I like it, I really do. It reminds me of, well, me! And I totally agree.

"A Lost Generation"

a poem by Jonathan Reed

I am part of a lost generation
and I refuse to believe that
I can change the world
I realize this may be a shock but
“Happiness comes from within.”
is a lie, and
“Money will make me happy.”
So in 30 years I will tell my children
they are not the most important thing in my life
My employer will know that
I have my priorities straight because
work
is more important than
family
I tell you this
Once upon a time
Families stayed together
but this will not be true in my era
This is a quick fix society
Experts tell me
30 years from now, I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce
I do not concede that
I will live in a country of my own making
In the future
Environmental destruction will be the norm
No longer can it be said that
My peers and I care about this earth
It will be evident that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic
It is foolish to presume that
There is hope.

And all of this will come true unless we choose to reverse it . 

 Reverse it. 

Literally, read the poem backward. 

Read each individual line the regular way, but go from the bottom up. 

It will make much more sense.

(If you don't get it, watch this video)

:)

P.S. This Never Happened

Today, a neon unicorn in pantyhose walked up to my dad and danced seductively while making whipped cream shoot out of his eyeballs!

 

 

 

Logos

Don't you just love logos? For places? The best ones are the optical illusions. Like FedEx. You guys know about the FedEx arrow, right? Look between the E and the x.

Isn't that cool?
Also a good one, for Spartan Golf Club:

Now this next one is kind of subtle. After Amazon stopped selling only books and started selling books plus everything else, they added the arrow. So they're really saying they're selling everything from A to Z. 

Finally, my favorite of all and probably one of the least known, the Tostitos logo! Tostitos sell chips and salsa. So, what a better logo than people chowing down on Tostitos! Just watch:

Don't see it, right? Get ready to have your mind blown....

OMG THERE IT IS!!! Pretty dang amazing. I want to meet whoever came up with this. Seriously, I ate Tostitos my whole life and didn't notice this until a friend pointed it out.

Optical illusions are cool.

Now there's another kind of logos, the Greek kind. It has something to do with persuasive writing. Just watch this video. It's pretty ridiculous. Keep an open mind and Hey! you might even learn something.

Okay, I can't get the video to show up so just go to this link

Logos (both kinds) ROCK!!!!!! 

The Real World?

You ever hear of the All-American Rejects? Yeah, me neither. I think they're a band or something. Just kidding. :)

But really, they aren't that famous but probably should be. Or at least this one song by them, The Real World. It's creepy in a really, really awesome way, especially if you listen to the lyrics. Our English teacher showed it to us because it relates to the book we're reading so much it's scary. We're reading Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Yes, we're in seventh grade and rocking the Ray Bradbury. Welcome to Honors English class; aka high expectations; aka too much work for 8 students to handle together but we do it alone anyway; aka the Overachievers Club (school nickname). Okay, just listen to the lyrics of the song, watch the video, and read Fahrenheit 451 if you haven't. As confusing and Ray Bradbury-y it was, I liked it.

The Real World

I woke up on this side, I thought it was a dream
At first we learned to walk then learned to scream
You can't understand, when you're fed from a TV screen
You can't see the things that I can see

But I forget, that you thank God and pray
Some things just never stay
And we all just slip away

This can't be the real world now
I don't believe it, when I can't see the truth
Welcome to the real world now
The old are carried in only to poison youth
Am I, the only one who thinks it's tragic
'Cause I know
This can't be the real world now
Oh no oh
Oh no oh

I look for some hope in every face there's a vacant stare
The shadows come but no one seems to care
The darkness floods every light that could promise change
She passed sound asleep when the blood is stain
But blood is pain

Somewhere I know, that I'm not all alone
With this bated breath I hold
My lungs want to explode

This can't be the real world now
I don't believe it, when I can't see the truth
Welcome to the real world now
The old are carried in only to poison youth
Am I, the only one who thinks it's tragic
'Cause I know
This can't be the real world now
Oh no oh
Oh no oh
This can't be the real world now
Oh no oh
Oh no oh

Just as soon as we see
Every flaw and every need we'll understand
And for the first time
A child to a man says only pure words that he can
He's too late the man he knows it he said
With all emotions set aside in a whisper say goodbye

This can't be the real world now
I don't believe it, when I can't see the truth
Welcome to the real world now
The old are carried in now just to poison youth
Am I, the only one who thinks it's tragic
'Cause I know
This can't be the real world now
Oh no oh
Oh no oh
This can't be the real world now
Oh no oh
Oh no oh
This can't be the real world
This can't be the real world
This can't be the real world now
Oh no oh
Oh no oh

"The shadows come but no one seems to care."
See? Just... gives me the shivers. Every time.

God, this song should be so much more famous.

My favorite quote from the book? Well (and remember Ray Bradbury said this, not me), here it is:

"The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies."

Good old Faber! I always knew life was a girl! Yeah!... oh, right. Not the point of the quote.
(Gonna steal a little of your thunder now, Caitlyn)

"Am I the only one who thinks it's tragic? This can't be the real world now. Oh no oh. Oh no oh."

Sigh

The outside, indifferent Grace covers up the inside Grace who is actually bawling her eyes out. Yes, I am feeling very very very depressed.

Talent show results were posted today. And if you aren't smart and can't put two and two together:

P.S. The girl is me.

And the thing is, I can't really cry about it. At school I'm pretty much a well known nerd, so I like to prove peoples opinions wrong by being tough. And for people who know me better, they know I really am tough.

I was just... really hoping with this, you know? I sort of knew I wasn't going to get in last year-- my act really wasn't that good. But I thought I truly had the shot this year.

The only thing I think is worse than not getting in to something is getting your hopes up and then not getting into something. Like when I tried out for the school play, they told me I had a beautiful voice, and then gave me a part in the chorus. Well, here, I got a callback. A callback! And it went really well even better than my fist audition and it was a callback! that means they liked me they liked me and afterwards the chorus teacher who was listening but not judging it was just happening in her room told me I was really good and I would get in for sure yayyay and now all that's left to do is wait and wait and finally the results are there and.... It all comes crashing down. You know what they say-- the bigger they are, the harder they fall. The farther up on my my self pride I am, the more it will hurt when I finally fall off.

An expression I really hate is this:
"Always shoot for the moon! Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars!"
It's on all these happyhappyjoyjoy posters around my school. Well, I'm living proof that this is wrong. I must've shot for the moon, what, 6 times since I came to Junior School? 7 times? Whatever, a lot. And I'm definitely seeing stars, but not because I'm among them. More because the universe decided to punch the lights out of my self esteem.

Also painted on the wall in one of the hallways in my school is the question:
"Your reach should exceed your grasp, else what's a heaven for?"
which is actually really depressing and not very motivational but totally 100% more true than landing among the stars. It's just-- why do some people's reaches exceed their grasps, and other people's reaches get reached, and hugged, and loved, and rubbed in everyone else's face?

Whatever. Every time this happens I tell myself I'm not going to get my hopes up next time and then guess what? I do. I do. IdoIdoIdoIdoIdoIdo I ALWAYS FREAKIN' DO!!!! It's amazing I still trust anyone or anything after my life of high hopes and hard falls.

I am not a drama queen. I really, really, wanted this, and the only problem with a blog is that you can't hear the pain and struggle in my voice. I rarely tell anyone anything. I'd rather carry the world on my shoulders with no help than have a serious conversation. I hate having serious conversations. 

Whatever.

Life is full of little disappointments.

Mini-Me

I had to write another memoir for English class, this time with author notes. Enjoy. 

            My chubby five-year-old legs ran outside into the warm outside air. I could hear my neighbors. “Can I come?” This frequently asked question was practically my catch phrase. As a hyper little kid with no cable TV (aka nothing fun to watch during the day), busy parents, and no kids on my street my age, I was constantly tagging along with the “older kids.”  Out of the six of us, I was the youngest- at least four years younger than all of them: Connor, Sharlys, Tony, Michael, and Brian.

            They all had their unique personalities. Tony lived down the street- he was the jock, the one who we’d go to play street hockey or soccer. Michael didn’t actually live on our street, but the street behind ours, which was really busy. He would just cut through Brian’s backyard and come to hang with us. Brian was also a sports enthusiast. He had a basketball hoop and a playground in his backyard, so his house was a popular hang-out spot. Tony, Michael, and Brian would have been all nine when I was five. Finally, Connor and Sharlys were brother and sister, always fighting. They lived next door to me. When I was five, Connor would have been twelve and Sharlys would have been ten. They were both talented musicians, members of their family’s band. Being the oldest, Connor was pretty much the leader of our little group. As the only girls, Sharlys and I always connected the most, but she always loved messing with me. She still does. They all teased me, but I was cool with it. I was just happy that I got to come with them and listen to their grown-up conversations.

My strongest memory of hanging with all of them was a time we went to Michael’s house. Being right behind Brian’s house and having an awesome recreational garage, we went there a lot. Today, we were going to clean up the fish pond in Michael’s backyard and make a sign for it. Michael’s dad was making him clean this fish pond (currently, we weren’t sure if we couldn’t see the fish because the pond was too dirty or because they had all died), so we were going to make the most of it. It was going to be a great little pond when we were done. Everyone was talking about how much of a scorcher it was going to be that day. We were all getting sodas from the refrigerator in the garage. Well, more like they were getting sodas from the refrigerator in the garage. Naturally, I wanted one too, but…
            “No,” Sharlys said, completely serious except for the mischievous glint in her eye. “This soda is for people ages ten and up only.”

            “But they aren’t ten yet!” I whined, gesturing at Tony, Michael, and Brian.

            “Yes we are,” Michael claimed, popping the top off his soda bottle with a fizz, “We all turned ten just a little while ago.”

            My chubby face examined his serious one. I was pretty sure their claims weren’t true, but I hadn’t mastered the art of lie detection yet. Although I was learning.

            “You aren’t ten. I’m five, and you’re four years older than me. Five plus four is nine,” I stated, hoping they would see the logic in my reasoning.

            “Oh, good at math, are you?” laughed Tony. But they couldn’t come up with a better response.

            They were about to give me a soda when Connor came to their rescue and said, “Sharlys meant to say that you had to be eight to drink it. Tony and Brian and Michael can, but you can’t.” He held his arms out and shrugged, “Sorry,” but I didn’t buy it. He was grinning the whole time. This was surely a lie…

            “Yeah, we can drink it and you can’t! Ha!” Brian jeered. I stuck out my tongue at him. I wasn’t friends with Brian. He had once called me an ugly duckling. I was still mad.

            I began to go through what I can only call the five stages of grief.

“N-no!” I stuttered. “There are no drinks that you can’t drink before eight! It’s eighteen, right?” Denial.

            “Nope, sorry, munchkin.” Sharlys said, ruffling my hair and using the pet name I hated, “It can be eight OR eighteen.”

            “Please! I’ll do all the work. I’ll clean up the pool for you guys.” Bargaining.

            “No, you’re too small.” said Sharlys. That really made me bristle. I was a big girl.

            “Well, we could let her work for us…” contemplated Brian.

            “No. She’s too small to do real work, and she can’t have a soda.” Sharlys said, plucking the question I was about to ask right out of my head.

            “I don’t believe you. You said it was ten- then it became eight years old. The age can’t just change like that!” I pouted. They were being so mean to me. I wanted to cry. Sadness.

            “Sure it can,” grinned Tony. Liar.

            “Besides, it’s my house,” said Michael, who had already gotten bored and was playing on the pinball machine in the garage.

            “NO, it can’t!!” I stomped my foot. Anger. I really hated being tricked. People didn’t expect me to be smarter than them because I was younger than them, but I was. I was smart. I was already reading Blue-level books in school, which was higher than White-level, Yellow-level, and Red-level books.

            “Okay, Gracie, we’ll make an exception just for you. You can have a few sodas, just because you figured us out.” Connor said.

            “She did?” Brian and Tony asked at the same time (and proceeded to jinx each other).

            “Yes, of course she did,” Connor laughed, “Sharlys was right the first time, it is ages ten and up. We’re letting Tony, Brian, and Michael have sodas, though, so I guess we can let you have a few, too.”

            “It’s my house, I can have soda whenever I want,” said Michael.

            “Yep, she’s a clever little munchkin,” Sharlys completely ignored Michael and got me a soda from the fridge, popping the top and handing it to me. I watched the cold steam rising from the top and listened to the bubbles popping for a moment before taking a cold, refreshing sip. Something still didn’t quite ring true about the whole “Ages ten and up” deal, but I had finally reached acceptance. And I was sure my lie-detecting skills had gotten much better. And I realized that no matter how many times these guys tried to trick me, I would figure them out in the end. This experience hadn’t been all bad. I felt smarter, and more grown up, and like I had the upper hand on my older friends. Finally, remembering we hadn’t just come for soda, we got the pool cleaners and heavy-duty rubber gloves, and had that late summer afternoon well spent. 

My neighbors really were my life from ages four through six. After first grade, they started to turn more and more into teenagers, but we still hung out. We would play hide-and-seek tag and capture the flag and football. I learned everything a little girl would need to know: the best hiding places on the block, how to tell when it’s about to rain, how to pretend you understand something when you really don’t. How to cheat in hide and seek by saying “One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one hundred.” They were such a big part of my childhood; it was hard not to think of them when I was told to write a memoir. This particular memory is just the one that stands out the most in my brain.

One of the biggest things that brought this memory back was Easter Sunday. Connor was back from college, and we were all looking for something to do, so we got together, for the first time in a long while. We played football in Brian’s backyard and then went down to Michael’s house and got sodas from the refrigerator in the garage. They were just as good as I always remembered. Then we went to Michael’s pond. He had really let it go. The sign we had put up years ago was faded and weather-worn. The pond itself was just as murky, so we cleaned it out a bit with sticks. I found a plastic bag. By the time we were done, we could actually see some fish. I think they could survive anything. My neighbors and I don’t see each other very often anymore. I think when they see me, they are surprised to see how much I’ve grown, how different I am from my five-year-old self, and how very much the same, too. But this memory…. It just gives me a blast from the past and let’s me remember what it was like, back when we were young…. 

 

By the way, this isn't me. I was

a) never as fashionable to wear a blouse that matched the leaves

b) had a weird, bowl-like haircut

c) would never be standing still long enough for you to get a picture this good

d) I was way cuter than this

Get Ready to Feel Dumb

SPOILER ALERT!!!!: Read this before reading this post!!! Or you will be very sad from riddle withdrawal!!

Okay, I figure I've tortured you all long enough. Here is the answer to the riddle I posted a little while ago:

NOTHING!!!

Nothing has seven letters.

Nothing precedes God.

Nothing is greater than God.

Nothing is more evil than the Devil. 

Rich people need nothing.

Poor people have nothing. 

If you eat nothing, you die. 

Bet ya feel pretty dumb now, huh? Here's some lolcats to cheer you up. They are also pretty dumb.

Teeheeheeheehee!