Wednesday, October 28, 2009

9-->7-->5-->3-->1

Some because the bullies have matured, some because they have matured, but most because both parties have matured.
Victims mature, bullies mature, but most times both mature.
Bullies and victims mature apart and together.
Victims and bullies mature together.
Both parties mature.
Maturity.

Say you were the youngest kid in your class and you were darn proud of it.
You are the youngest, but are proud of it.
You are the youngest but the most proud.
The youngest but most proud.
Youngest but proud.
Youngest.

I quickly ran to the corner and sat there with my head hidden in my sweatshirt.
I sprinted to the corner, and hid my head.
Sprinting to the corner, I hid myself.
I sprinted to hide myself.
Sprinting, I hid.
Hiding.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Essay Reflection Questions

1. The concept of my essay was bullying and all of the aspects that go into bullying. I wrote about the different kind of bullies there are and what makes them bullies. I also explained about the victims; how they react, and a little bit about the things that are going through their heads.

2. The most challenging part for me was starting out. I wanted to write about something conceptual and positive, but I felt like the memories and concepts that filled these criteria wouldn’t make as strong of an essay as a negative concept. Sometimes negative emotions like anger and sadness are more relatable than happiness and joy because happiness and joy are more abstract than negative emotions. Once I did think of a string of memories that fit together, it was pretty easy to find the right idea that fit along with them. The other thing that I found surprisingly difficult was not forging things in my memories. I hadn’t realized how natural it was for me to fill in little details of things I have forgotten. I definitely had to read over my memories a few times to make sure there wasn’t a fact I had added just to make explaining my concept easier.

3. If I could go back to make changes and additions, I would probably make a ton more people read my essay. I had a few, but I still caught errors after they all had read it. I’m pretty bad at grammar and spelling, so I wish I had spent more time looking over it. Its also difficult for me to try and adjust my essay after I’ve spent a really long time looking at it because I know what I was trying to say, so its easy for me to skip over mistakes. I also wish I had spent a little more time deepening the concepts and answering why along with how. For example I wish I had gone into more details about why bullies are bullies, not just how they bully people.

4. It was really surprising to look back on the memories of being bullied when I was younger and enjoy thinking about them. I thought for sure it would make me angry again or make me sad, but I found them mostly funny. It was funny to look back and I think that I reacted by running away and not participating while I was thinking that I was more mature than everyone else. I also found it really funny because I spent 8 years with the people who were mean to me, and its funny to think of how they’ve changed, and how some haven’t changed at all.

Overall though, I really enjoyed doing the essay. I’m a procrastinator, so it was really helpful to go over things in class and start a little bit in class. Because it was a fun assignment, and because we looked at a lot of different ideas/concepts, it was enjoyable to write.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

3 deeper concepts

3 Conceptual Questions My Memory Addresses:

How does love blind you (especially young love)?
I knew that I would be scared to death if I went on the ride, but I had such a big crush on John that I wasn't thinking. I wasn't being logical because I was "blinded by love” in that I wanted him to like me back so much that I didn't realize the consequences.

Why is it important to act your age sometimes?
If I hadn't been trying to act older to impress John, I would have realized that all of the other riders were way older than me. Even John and Justin were scared and they were each a year older. I should have acted my age and gone a ride for younger kids, that I would have enjoyed.

Why is it important to know yourself and your limits?
If I had known myself better, I would have known the ride was too scary for me. Even being blinded by my crush on John if I really knew me the knowledge that I would scream like the little girl I was would have overpowered my desire to impress John.

Monday, September 21, 2009

False Memory Story

Laughing hysterically we hopped off of the flying ride. “I know I thought I was going to slip through the bars!” Eugenia said between giggles, which made us laugh even more. The manager of the ride was watching us, still annoyed that we had been kicking and singing while we were in our seats. “And the guy kept eyeing us like we were crazy! What should we go on now?” Her eyes lit up.
“I don’t know! Which one haven’t we gone on?” I laughed. I was exploding with happiness. I loved going to the county fair with Eugenia every year. She was the best friend I could ever ask for
My brother Justin and Eugenia’s brother John walked over. “You haven’t gone on the haunted house ride yet,” John said with a huge grin. Genia and I looked over at the giant black ride with a scary grim reaper by the entrance. All you could see from the outside was a big black curtain and a whole bunch of kids that were way older than 6 and 7.
“Um, ya but I think we’ll pass on that one. I don’t really like scary stuff.” I tried to say it coolly but I wasn’t even close. Only Justin knew I had a huge crush on Genia’s brother.
“Oh come on! You’ll like it!” Justin said, clearly enjoying it.
I turned to Genia and she shrugged. Little did I know she had wanted to impress Justin too.
“Okay we’ll go on it,” I said. “Good idea.” I smiled at John, secretly freaking out.
We turned toward the ride and Genia let out a huge gulp. We started slowly walking over until we reached the line. We were the shortest ones there and the older kids were looking at us speculating if we really were that young. We looked back at the boys and they gave us two thumbs up. We each took out four tickets and handed them to the ride manger. He looked us up and down and laughed, probably at our already terrified expressions.
“Enjoy your ride,” he snickered and then called over his shoulder. I looked to see who he was talking to and only found the grim reaper statue. Gen nudged me.
“Ready Katie?” she asked, hoping I would back out.
“Uh-huh,” I managed to choke out. “Born ready,” I said feigning confidence.
We jumped into the cart and gripped the handle for dear life. It started to move behind the curtain and I closed my eyes as tight as they would go. Eerie music began to play and the people in the cart in front of us screamed at the top of their lungs. I freaked out and let out a blood-curdling scream of my own. Genia began to scream as well and I shut my eyes even tighter. We continued screaming at the top of our lungs and with my eyes welded shut for what seemed like forever. I peeked through my eyelids only to see a huge skeleton lit up by black light and somehow managed to scream louder. Finally I felt the cold air on my face and I knew it was over. We had done it! I turned to smile at Gen only to see her eyes pop wide open at something behind us. I reluctantly turned to look and found the grim reaper from the beginning was on the back of our cart cackling. He waved his scythe around in the air and we ran out of the car before it stopped moving. The guy who had taken our tickets was holding his stomach from laughing so hard. Genia and I ran straight into my mother’s arms, hysterical.
“What happened?” she said, worried.
“We- went on- the ride- and there was- a grim reaper- and a skeleton- and- it was Justin’s fault!” I spit out the words between the tearless-sobs.
My mom immediately turned to Justin and John and gave them a disapproving look. “Well sweetie you know what might make you feel better? Justin and John went on the ride and they screamed just as much as you did and they are two boys a year older than you.”
“Really?” I asked, starting to smile.
“Yup,” my mom said just as Justin blurted out no at the same time.
Clearly proud that she had found out how to make me feel better she went on to tell me how they had screamed like little girls and had come sobbing into her arms as well.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Tobias Wolf Questions

If we could only read one story, which would you say captures the essence of your writing?

What did you see as the benefit of writing Bullet in the Brain at different speeds?

Do you find parts of yourself or of those you know in the characters you create? If yes, how do you think this enhances or damages the story?

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Real time. Slo-mo. Fast Forward.

"There wasn't much daylight left and they decided to head back toward the road,"(Hunters in the Snow, 23, Wolf). 5 paces to the left, 10 straight and 3 to the right.
"Good work today boys," the troop leader said.
"Gee thanks sir! It was super duper fun getting to make fire and see animals and stuff! What're we doing tomorrow?" Billy said.
"Tomorrow we are going to work on identifying leaves."
"Like that'll ever help us in the wilderness," Rob grumbled under his breath.
"Now Robert, you never know when identifying leaves will help you in life! If you get lost they can help you. Or if you ever want to impress a girl," the leader chuckled.
"Itz Rob," he mumbled.
They continued to trek along the road until they came to the cabins.
"I would like to see you all dressed and ready for dinner at 7:45. Tonight's lasagna."  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

As soon as the leader said lasagna Rob's stomach lurched. As he was taking his first step back into the house he remembered his grandmothers house. It was the day she had died and she had made her special lasagna for dinner that night. It had always been Rob's favorite. Well at the time Robert. His grandma always had called him Robert and he adored it. It made him feel grown up and special. He loved when people thought he was older. Part of the reason he had begun the boy scouts was so he could impress her with his knowledge of plants and survival. Every time he came to her home he would run to her and sit in her lap telling her every detail of what the troop had done that day. She would always be very impressed and whenever he told her something extra special, like the time he found the animal tracks that lead them to a doe and its mother, she would make him special lasagna. But his grandmother was dead now and he refused to be called Robert, eat lasagna, or be enthusiastic about any of the wilderness things anymore. The truth was, he wasn't grown up. He was just a young boy who had lost one of his best friends and had been forced to grow up too fast. His foot landed down on the welcome mat and he went inside.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

He gathered his things and headed to the showers, washed up and headed to dinner. He got food from the salad bar without a glance at the 'other food' and ran straight to his cabin. He locked the door jumped under his covers with a flashlight ate his salad and cried. It wasn't until he had woken up the next day that he realized he had fallen asleep. He braced himself for the teasing that might follow a boy sobbing himself to sleep but none came. It was another long day in the woods.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Tobias Wolf Re-write

"There wasn't much daylight left and they decided to head back toward the road,"(Hunters in the Snow, 23, Wolf). Everyone was overjoyed to see the road. The road meant rooms and the rooms meant faucets and the faucets meant water. It had been a long day. Full of pain and aching bodies. And full of heat. It’s impossible to go three seconds without thinking about the heat. Even though the sun was setting, the blistering heat was swallowing everyone down into its fiery grasp. The moisture seemed to be a mixture of the humidity and the sweat that was radiating off the tired bodies. No one wanted to go back the next day, and come face to face with the unbearable rays of the afternoon. On their first day of ‘camp’, they all shared the joke that they had never seen a sunny day full of despair until then. They would each take the icy wind that comes on a cold winter day gladly as opposed to this. Here rainy days were happy days and sunny days were gloomy. In the afternoon you could hear some of the more optimistic criminals singing ‘here comes the rain! Do do do do. Here comes the rain and I say it’s all right!” Of course the rain will never come. If they were looking for a way to turn criminals around they certainly found it. No one here would ever commit another crime if they had known this is where they would end up. It’s hard to remember the satisfaction that comes with taking a deep breath of fresh air. Now all that comes from a deep breath is 36% water, 14% sweat, 2% insects and 7% dirt. Ahh dirt. Dirt. Dirt. Dirt. Dirt has taken over everything. There are no trees, leaves, or lakes, just dirt. Dirt. Dirt. Dirt. I don't think anyone here can remember what the colors blue or green look like. We see brown and orange because of the different shades of dirt. After a while you can really begin to appreciate the bark brown, or the mucky brown. The different shades have become really prominent when it’s basically the only color you see. Bark brown is everyone’s favorite color to see because it’s the closest we will ever get to trees. Orange and yellow have become everyone’s least favorite colors. The colors of heat. The colors of despair and hatred towards all warm-blooded animals. Oh the heat. Not even the different shades of dirt can keep you mind off of the heat for more than three seconds.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Splatter Paint Collaborative Short

SENTENCE: When a child their 5th year he or she  is given 5 buckets of different colored pain and a canvas. They are then left alone for three hours. When the parents return the child is expected to have drawn a painting. The way to determine your mirrosia is to find your matching birth painting.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH IT: There are a few grammatical errors with this sentence because of subject/pronoun disagreement(child with they). I also didn't like the choppiness of the sentence(they are left alone for three hours. When the parents return...). I also didn't like the 5th year thing, I think it flows much better to just say 5.  

CORRECTION: When children turn 5, they begin the ritual to find their mirrosias. The parents are to slip away from the children for three hours, leaving them with only 5 buckets of paint and a canvas. The children are expected to have painted something by the time the parents return. When two children paint the same thing, they are said to be mirrorsias.  


MORAL: Even when you think you are connected to a person, there is always the possibility that you are not.
I agree with this moral because it proves that you should always be on your guard even if it is someone you think you know.  There may be a person you think is your friend, but you can never really be sure. There is always the idea of "fake" where someone may be pretending to be something they are not, and you must always look out for that possibility. 
QUOTES THAT PROVE THIS:
Dashean, my spiritual partner, called a Mirrosia(Mee-Roh-See-Ah) believes we are lucky to have found each other. (You can see she trusts him and there is also a false sense of happiness from the other character[they are lucky to have found each other])
I then got a good look at the figure standing over my bleeding body, it was Dashean. (This proves that she should have kept her guard up. She had no idea that the one who was dubbed her spiritual partner, would turn out to be responsible for her death.)

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Lies

My life is has a few lies. Starting with the fact that I am a huge liar myself. Or so my parents say. I disagree and say that I only lie to them about little things that aren't important. Lying to my parents doesn't count as a lie to me anymore. Of course when I say it like that it sounds like a horrible thing, but it really has become a bad habit of mine. Just today for instance, my dad asked me if I was done with my homework because I was watching Top Chef. I said yes and that I would go to bed afterwards. I clearly wasn't done with my homework or planning on going to bed because I am finishing it right now. The weirder part is my parents know I'm lying. They have also gotten used to it to the point where they know the answer will be a lie. It also helps them that even though I lie a lot(about small things!!!) I am a terrible liar. I can't lie without smiling or giggling or I make silly mistakes like having a word document with the heading on it but no words right in front of me when I claim to be finished with my history. I don't know why I continue to do it because everyone knows I'm lying. Sometimes however, I get into a really detailed lie or it is something where people are being mean and accusing me of doing something really bad, and I convince myself I haven't. One case was when one of my parents accused me of hitting my brother on purpose. I was about to say it was when I was younger, but why lie? My brother and I were having an argument in the summer and somehow I got so mad I
"accidentally" whipped a pillow across his head. My brother tattled on me and my parents came to get mad. I started to tell them I didn't do anything (not really believing the lie myself) until I had repeated it so many times that I was beginning to make myself believe I hadn't done it(of course deep-down I still knew I was guilty). Because my parents wouldn't trust me I got so upset and started crying about how unfair it was that they would accuse me of something I didn't do(I'm a bit of a drama queen). On the rare occasions that don't include Justin, I can sometimes get them to believe me. Whenever Mr. I-never-tell-a-lie-and-am-a-huge-tattletale is involved they don't believe me. Justin is EXTREMELY honest. He won't tell white lies(which I think are okay if they are to avoid hurting people's feelings) and he wouldn't lie about arguments with me. 
Other than those small lies, I live a pretty lie-free life.

as far as I know...

Thursday, September 3, 2009

MHS + Jonah = Lies

9/3/09

Today we got a new headmaster for our school. He doesn't seem too bad, but he says there are going to be some massive changes, even a new religion. It seems weird to me that they would let him make our school religious on the spot...

9/4/09

THE CHANGES DEFINITELY STARTED! All of the students were called to assembly to find our new headmaster on the floor with his socks and shoes off pressing his feet up against Mr.S's! After being quiet for about a half an hour, Mr.S gets up with a dazed look on his face while our new headmaster, who introduced himself as Jonah, begins to explain the ritual of 'boku-maru' which apparently we will be doing quite often! He says its from our new religion Bokonism but that its all lies.(What's THAT supposed to mean?) He then tells us that everything we learn in school will all be lies and pretty much everything we had believed strongly will all be lies(AGAIN WHAT?!). He released us to go home after that and there was only silence coming from the teachers and students. At this point I just wanted to go to sleep, but I could've sworn as I walked past the bathroom, two girls were on the counter taking off their shoes and socks. I'm still thinking about everything will be lies... The only reason I'm going back tomorrow is sheer curiosity.

9/5/09
I'm writing under my desk now because the news was too big to wait. We have already lost half of our students and even a few of the teachers! My two classes so far have started with 'Everything I'm about to teach you are lies' and then the teachers continue on as if everything is normal!!!! If everything is lies THEN WHY DO I HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU!? THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE. After this we a had lessons that were clearly nonsense, after which we were allowed 'quiet time' where we could write(I guess Crazy Jonah is big on writing) paint(he also had a friend who painted), or practice boku-maru(LIKE I WOULD EVER PRESS MY FEET AGAINST SOMEONE ELSES SWEATY STINKY FEET.) I decided to paint, but when I finished, our teacher came around and said, "See the cat? See the cradle?" and threw away my picture! I don't know what to think of the faculty anymore! Some of the teacher's eyes are filled with apologies as they try to teach us new information that is all lies. The weirder part is that some of the teachers seemed like they were brainwashed overnight! Teaching the information like nothing is new! I can't tell who I am more annoyed with the teachers who aren't doing anything but clearly know this is all crazy, or the teachers who have already turned crazy! I'm sorry I'm being so AOUFGALKHJ but you would too if all of your friends left your school and left you with physco robot teachers who teach you 3 + 1 = vindit!!!! I don't wonder why everyone left. Ugh, my teacher just gave us a math test but I don't know what to study! The lies? or what I know from before, which apparently was all lies too! This whole thing is CRAZY!

I AM GETTING SICK OF THIS BOKU-MARU THING. I walked out on the quad and it seems like I'm the only who finds this weird! Everyone is lying down in silence enjoying each-others-feet against theirs. Thank gosh it looks like there are a few students surrounding the quad looking as surprised as I am. I'm gonna have the most normal break I can with those guys. 

I learned in world religions today that the people I hung out with were members of my 'karass'. I swear if I hear one more mumbo jumbo word like karass or boku-maru or bokonon(who is some old guy that I've heard a lot about but have yet to see.) I'm gonna be the next to leave. I'm just hoping the whole curiosity killed the cat thing doesn't come true.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Call me...

B-N-B-H.

Three years ago at the end of 6th grade, I found myself talking about a girl that I had been spending a lot of time bothering myself with that year. It wasn't until that day that I realized that I was a "mean girl". I hadn't bullied anyone or been mean or rude to anyone, and I had done a pretty good job of not hurting peoples feelings, but I had been talking a lot about this girl behind her back. I didn't spread rumors and I would only talk about her to one person but it was still a really mean thing to do. If I had been that girl who I was so often trashing, I would have thought I was a REALLY mean person. It didn't matter that I had only told my best friend about how horrible this girl was, or that I hadn't done anything directly to her to hurt her feelings, but one of the first things we learned in kindergarten was if you don't have anything nice to say don't say it at all. Not only was I breaking that rule about two times a week, there was a ton of negative energy coming out of me two times a week. Because I had finally realized this, I freaked out. I couldn't remember how long that had been going on, but it made me really worried that I would turn into a mean person. It was my first year changing friends so I began to wonder if i had chosen the wrong people to make friends with. I realized that I was the only one initiating the conversations and the true person at fault was me. I decided that my two main things I needed to fix, was being nicer and more positive. The beginning of B-N.
It wasn't until this year that I came up with BNBH my motto. I had been spending a lot of time thinking about how fortunate I was as a person and how I could show my appreciation for everything I have. I would think about the little troubles I had like not making it into a play or getting a bad grade on a test and would find it unfair to those less fortunate than I, that I was upset over these little things, when people are starving with no homes. Because my problems are nonexistent in relation to those who have experienced poverty, sexual violence, etc. I decided i should act as though I didn't have problems. This doesn't mean that if I get a bad grade on a test, then I am going to ignore it, but I won't spend time be upset about and work harder instead. I am so incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to go to an amazing school that getting upset about a bad grade seems just plain disrespectful to those who don't have the opportunities I do. Basically the opposite of upset is happy, which initiated the start of B-H.
So to remind me to be a good person B-N-B-H. Be kind to others, don't talk behind their backs and be a flat out nice person. Be happy with everything you have because you are the luckiest person in the world in relation to so many of those who are less fortunate its stupid to waste an amazingly blessed life upset.

Sincerely,
BE NICE. BE HAPPY.
BNBH