Light. Bulb.

Okay so just now I was looking at my blog and reflecting at how funny my little self was and I was studying all my posts and comments and what not about flying and stuff (don't worry I still want working wings) and I realized that I AM a bird.
...
...
...
...
I'm a penguin.
It's sooooooooo depressing. I'm clumsy and can swim and have black fur (hair in my case) and like to eat fish, but I can't fly. However if I was a smidget more reckless I might have the guts to try and jump off a cliff, while flapping my arms like an idiot before flopping into the water and running away from killer seals. Excuse me. Swimming away from killer seals. Sigh. I wonder if reincarnation is possible. If it was I'd like to be an eagle. Or a hummingbird. Or a flamingo. But I don't think flamingos fly. I have to look that up. Well I'm still stuck in the ski lodge but I'm not complaining. Recently my school got the crossfit place behind us to volunteer hours so that our class could go there three times a week. It's a lot of fun (the exercises anyway), but I don't like the instructor much, and it's a little too extraneous for some of my classmates. Like Amanda who has really thin blood and should be taking in more iron in her diet, nearly passed out twice. TWICE! Neither the teachers or the instructors did anything helpful. One of our teachers tried to tell her to put her head between her knees and I was like ARE YOU KIDDING ME! You only do that if you have to throwup. If you are going to black out you should stand straight up or lie flat and let your blood circulate. Our Teacher is crazy. And Alma threw up and was really embarrassed but then kept going like it was no big deal (she doesn't like attention much) only to have the guy in charge keep pointing it out and making her want to hide in a corner. God that place can be annoying. But other then that I really do like crossfit. It's fun to do the stuff and I'm teaching Indy and Milan some of the stuff we do there. Oh well. Till later then. (Or whenever I remember this blog exists.)

Clouds

Okay, so in science on friday we were learning about this kid Zach Sobiech who had bone cancer that now spread to his lung and hips and he has months to live because there are no more effective treatments. Anyway, after learning about what'll come in the spring, he decided to live life to the fullest and started making music. I love his song, Clouds, 'cause it's just amazing and I advise all of you to purchase it off iTunes.

Which is exactly hat I am attempting to do now.

See, I've been asking my mom nearly three to five times a day (friday, saturday, and today) to buy the song, and promised I would pay her back (I got fifty bucks for chinese new year), but she keeps on coming up busy. So now we are in the ski lodge and I just finished doing my homework, and I asked her to download it please please please, and she said.....(drum roll please)....

"Cough, cough hack cough, choke choke, hack cough."

There is obviously something wrong with her lungs lately.

give me a second please. My phone just dinged.

(Five seconds later)

Aaaaaaaaaaaand it's DONE!!!!!!!!!!!

Now its your turn. :)

Language Arts (a fictional story. maybe)

this story is told from the point of view of a different girl in a different school in a different town in a different county. Please enjoy. I thought it was pretty funny.

***

I never understood the reason for which some adults feel entitled to bore a class of teenagers to death while picking apart a perfectly good piece of literature. It's always painful to watch and even more so to participate in. You end up pitying everyone in the room, including the writing piece. Thankfully I was saved from this knowledge by my outstanding GPA which placed me in honors language arts for the past three years, but unfortunately today out teacher was out with the flu. Or something.

I put my head down on the table and close my eyes, trying to let the teachers words blend together. It doesn't work. Ms Hopkins has one of those sharp, nasally and annoying voices that ensure that you make out every single word. If our school was bigger, had more money, along with some more support from the state, maybe, just MAYBE we would have been able to afford a sub. But as it is, we have to have some sort of fundraising event every week and the honors classes are all like four people each so, throwing us in with the regular class seemed like the most logical solution. After all, it's not like we'll have trouble keeping up.

But see, LA isn't like math or science, with all those defined formulas and whatever other stuff set in place years ago. It was constantly changing and morphing, constantly holding some deeper inner meaning. But sometimes words were just that...words.

Bananas. Polka-dots. Baby spit. Fat.

That just proved my point.

Suddenly everything gets quiet and I jerk my head up in surprise. Looking around I see my reaction mirrored by my classmates. It was a miracle. Hopkins had gone mute.

Tired

You know those days when you're really lazy and don't feel like moving or doing any work and that you feel that if you have to do anything you hope it has something to do with hanging out with your friends? Well, today's that kind of day. I'm running out of juice to help my writing and my eyes hurt from staring at the screen to no avail. And you know how when you sleep to long and you finally wake up you feel even more tired then you did last night and you just want to go back to bed but you can't because either you don't know how to get back to a sleep state of mind or you know that you'll just be even more tired than you are then, so you just walk around all day feeling tired until someone forces you to do something that will get your blood pumping? Today's like that, too. Yesterday was crazy. I woke up way early, then went to some inter-district-school-field-day-thing for all the incoming freshman in our area. After school I had two hours of dance, during which we did mostly jumps, turns, and stretch. And then later I was invited to go iceskating with some of my friends for the two hour open skate. Throughout this whole ordeal I didn't give a second thought about how my muscles would pay, and today is my punishment.

I feel like dead jello.

Fonts

I just realized why I chose the fonts for the blog title and post titles. The blog title's font is almost exactly like my actual handwriting and the post titles' fonts look like my handwriting when I work hard to make it neater. Thats really cool. I'm such an idiot for not noticing sooner. sigh. ")

Favorites II

It's very obvious when someone has favorites. Take this one teacher who will be going by Squirrel. I think Cute Like Minnie Mouse might be one of his favorites, but Blonde Crust and Former Broccoli Head obviously are not. Blonde Crust was falling from the playground so she screamed like any decent human being and said sh** by accident. Of course guess who is standing right there to witness the whole thing? Squirrel. Go figure! So Squirrel moves away from his position on recess duty and starts walking in our direction. In any normal circumstance Squirrel would ask if the kid was alright and tell them either to go to the nurses office or be more careful depending on what the response was. But this isn't any normal circumstance, this is Blonde Crust. So Squirrel  asks her "politely" to "please go and sit by the office for the rest of recess while I decide your punishment" or something like that. So everyone just looks at him. And looks at him. And looks at him some more. Finally Blonde Crust says one word "Why?". I mean really. The poor girl (I use that term loosely) just fell from four feet up and you're going to punish her! It's ludicrous! And you wanna know what his reason for punishing her was? Because she cursed. Because she cursed WHILE FALLING FROM FOUR FEET UP!!!! And at least five kids walked right in front of Squirrel while cursing every two breathes! Talk about favorites.


And as for Broccoli Head (the former part is just too annoying), she and Blonde Crust usually end up missing recesses together almost three time a week because of something stupid like that. It could be "oh, you guys are late by one minute because your class ended later then usual, you're punished," or "you are not allowed to giggle or laugh while playing a game of dodge ball/soccer/etc., you're punished". Fifteen million other kids could do the same thing, same day, during the same class, but only Blonde Crust and Broccoli Head would "be punished". It's so stupid. 


You know what? I'm publishing this in pink. Maybe it will help lift the spirits of Blonde Crust and Broccoli Head. (Probably mostly Broccoli Head but whatever). KTSM!!!!!

Puppets

My first memory was my four year old birthday party. We'd invited all of the kids in my nursery class to come over to my house and make puppets. There were a gazillion new brown paper bags, fifty-nine new glue bottle and glue sticks, and five huge tubs of foam shapes for the eyes, noses, and mouths. All of the supplies were laid out along a long table, and we were supposed to walk in a line next to the table, grab what we needed, and disperse to go somewhere and create a paper bag puppet. Now keep in mind that we were three and four year old kids, so of course the line was a mess. Kids were fussing over which glue bottle/stick worked best, and figuring out which shapes and colors they wanted. Then there were kids behind those kids, pushing and shoving and cutting line while complaining that the people in front of them were taking too long. But once they left the line the trouble didn't stop. Glue spread like a terrible and contagious disease. It got all over everyones hands and clothes and hair. Some kids used too much glue and ripped holes in their paper bags. There were quite a couple melt downs. And at cakes time, the unmentionable happened (though that doesn't mean I wont mention it).

Someone got icing on my puppet.

MY puppet. My ever resilient and strong paper bag puppet, brought down by a spoonful of icing lobbed from across the table. It was horrific. My mom tried her best to scrape it all off, but in the end my fallen warrior could not be salvaged. I was forced to let go of him and make a new one. Many tears were shed...

But I got over it.

I don't know why but for some reason, my early memories are very important to me. It's sometimes comforting to know that there's more to my life then right this minute. There was a before, and there will be an after. Even if I'm still stuck in the now.

Ouch

Omigosh I hurt sooooooooooo bad right now. You have no idea. So the day before yesterday was the first day of summer dance class. Of course I was an idiot and haven't stretched for almost two months, but then again I wasn't the only one. Still, I should have, because as per usual, the first class was a (drum roll please) stretch class. So we had to do all sorts of stretches (right splits, left splits, straddle split, straddle split planks, etc.) and due to my idiotic mistake of NOT stretching for ages, I now feel like a walking bruise. I'm sooooo sore! I was going to use tiger balm but I couldn't remember where my mom kept it so I gave up that idea and went with the traditional ice and rest. Yet even two days later I'm hurting just as bad if not more!!! Gosh I'm tired.

Music

It's really important to me. Heck it's important to most of the kids I know! But I have a slight problem. I like to sing. And I'm not that great. And if I accidentally start singing at all I'm told to be quiet. At first when my mom told me to stop singing and be quiet I always thought it was because she was busy a) concentrating on the road while driving, b) concentrating on her photos while she used photoshop, or c) just needed some time to think before she had to start doing either of the above. But after a bit I realized that she just didn't want to hear my voice. Even if I talk in her company, she has to take over the conversation and keep my voice out of it. So now I do my best to try and keep my mouth shut. It's really hard. I'm the kind of person that needs to voice her thoughts and opinions. But most of the time I bite the side of my mouth and tell myself to shut up. It's been about three years since I made this decision and I still can't do it perfectly. But I'm doing better...I think.

As for my father, he is almost never home. If he is he's working from home, sleeping, biking with his friends, running with his friends, on the couch sleeping with a biking or running injury, or urging me and the boys to join him while he runs/bikes solo. This leaves me next to no time to even talk to him, so really I just try and keep things simple. My philosophy is that if I don't start, then no problems will arise. Basically, as long as I don't sing or hum or dance from one place to the other when he's home, then I wont have the same problem that I have with my mother, with my father.

But aside from my parents there's my friends. They're understanding for sure, or at least sympathetic. They listen to me vent to them and they're always there, but I'm always to embarrassed to just sing in front of them. I consider them to be almost family, but that the thing, they're only almost family. So it's different. I mean I don't mind singing for the school play or school talent show, that's different. I only do the talent show thing so my mother will let me choreograph a dance number with some of the kids in my class, and when you're onstage in front of an audience, you can ignore the people and pretend you're actually that character. You can lose yourself in the acting and sing. For me it's easier like that. But when I sing in real life, in front of people I can see and I know, it's me singing. Just me. And it's that rawness that scares me. So I try not to. I used to sing in front of my closest and bestest friend (no names here), but she always got so annoyed by it and treated me the way my mom did so after awhile I stopped that to.

But because of all this, all this trying not to sing or hum or dance from place to place (even in math class), My head is always so full. It's like there's five different radios playing at the same time, all tuned to different music stations, with all the different songs and lyrics becoming a huge jumbled up mess, so that when I do hear something, like my mother giving me directions, I often forget it almost immediately. It's really sad actually. When I was eleven, I used to try talking to my self in the mirror or singing in my room, but it always made me cry and feel pathetic.

I actually have no clue why I wrote all this. I guess it's just kinda nice to know that I have a place where I can just be me where anyone can see it only if they want. It's like giving people a choice, like saying "this is me but if you don't want to know about it just close this window and find something else to do" ya know? I think this is good for me.

Power

so last night the power went out. It was weird. We had just gotten home from the beach and we didn't know when the electricity went kaput so I texted a few friend who lived nearby to see if they lived on my grid and if they knew when the power went out. So the friend who lives closest (i wont reviel her name. I'm not sure how she'd react) texted me bak and this is how our convo went:

ME: hey i wanted to no if any of u had electricity and if u no about wat time the lights went out. we just got bak home We were at the beach and saw lightening so we left. txt me bak soon Maya

oh yeah lol we still hav ekectric hbu? :HER

ME: nope nada nothin power dead o well

ohh snap we almost lost it buttt we didnt :HER

ME: lucky bum

I'm sooooooo weird