Look, I don't know bloggers, all right? I don't have friends with blogs! Except some of my Write It friends. And today, Scylla (Hero, Hannah, however you may know her) nominated me for this thingy where I have to do a bunch of stuff.
Firstly, I have to think her for the nomination. Check.
Secondly, I have to list seven things about myself. That shall be done below.
Thirdly, I have to nominate FIFTEEN OTHER PEOPLE WITH BLOGS. Again, here's who I know with a blog: my Write It friends (all of whom Scylla already nominated) and my mom (who does NOT know I have a blog and WILL NOT KNOW. Ever. Until I erase all those other blog posts with teenage angst on them).
I'm not going to cheat and make up blogs again; I'll just... I'll just... I'll...
Damn it.
OK, how about this? I'll point you guys to fifteen blogs I have been to in my life, but I won't make the other people do stuff. Excellent.
On with the things about me, then:
1. Right now I'm listening to "Back to Hogwarts" from A Very Potter Musical. My nonexistent readers may already know that I'm a huge fan of AVPM. But you may NOT know that I pretty much memorized the lyrics to this one. And that I used my sister's speakers to blast this song in my backyard last week, while I was supposed to be studying for finals.
2. I'm taking four AP classes next year. FOUR! What the hell? Why did I sign up for AP Bio? What is with me? I was able to handle ONE AP class these past two years, but now AP math and science! I... don't even know what I'm doing here.
3. I went through a limerick phase near the end of sixth grade. Mostly, I wrote really mean limericks about my classmates. Yeah, I was a bully in the old days. And my weapon was limericks.
4. One of my life goals is to travel to every country in the world, except possibly the ones where I could get murdered for being a Jew/girl. (slash American). Most of this traveling will probably be accomplished during retirement.
5. I used to go to piano lessons as a child, at my neighbor's house (she's an amazing pianist- she's at college now). But then I got sort of caught up in my writing and not so caught up in piano. I can still play Heart and Soul, though. Not the difficult part, just the "doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo" part.
6. My favorite artist is probably Michelangelo, but I also absolutely love anyone from the early 20th century. I just love the avant-garde spirit that was around then. I think I wouldn't mind working at the MoMA (wouldn't MIND? That'd be... amazing. Having the chance to work at the MoMA would be like... like finding a pot of gold. Or whatever. Magic gold. Not the kind that disappears, like leprechaun gold, the kind that's just magic. My chances of getting a job at a museum at all are, like, nada.).
7. Probably my favorite city in the world is Rome, but I've been to very few cities around the world. I've been to (not counting little places like Jersey City) New York City, Boston, D.C., Rome, Paris, Florence, Venice, Athens, Tel Aviv, and Jerusalem. Perhaps I should venture some other places before deciding, "That's it; Rome is the best."
I was going to make one of the fun facts about my love of semicolons, but I think it's been clearly established already that I love semicolons with all my heart.
Anyway... as for the fifteen blogs:
1. Heroic Endeavors- the blog that made me do this. By Scylla, my good writer friend. All about musicals and cello and writing and fun stuff like that.
2. Ink to Paper- Julia's blog (remember Julia from the last few posts?). It is about writing. She posts her writing excerpts every Wednesday and also posts stuff about her life.
3. Kitchen to Kitchen- My mom's blog, which I mentioned before a few times. It's about Judaism and how it relates to cooking. If you are interested in either subject, you should check it out.
4. Teresa the Random- By Teresa, or TheLooker23, about randomness and her life. She's also a Write It user.
5. Words into Darkness- By Tatiana/Molly/dollar616/orangetigerlily/JUST COME UP WITH ANOTHER NAME WHY DON'T YOU. This is actually an amazing blog filled with great stuff about writing. And I think Catholic stuff also, but I mostly read the writing posts. She has great advice regarding how to incorporate banana poisoning and such things into one's writing.
6. Inkygirl- And thus we begin the ten blogs of people I don't know. Inkygirl is an awesome blog I stumbled upon during NaNo a few years ago. It's filled with writing stuff and a bunch of awesometastic writing comics.
7. Brianne Crowder- OK, I'll be completely honest here, I just went through my list of blog posts I've read in the past (Google creates those, of course) and found this. Apparently I entered a writing contest on here. She hosts a lot of writing contests, so you may as well check them out.
8. Notebook Scraps- This is actually someone I (kinda) know. It's the user Fly, from Figment. She writes poems and stuff on notebook paper and posts them on her blog. She's an excellent poet, so check them out.
9. Ask a Math Geek- You know when I post something about (shudder) the hated subject, that I ran out of blogs. This is Beautiful and Strange's blog. (She's another user I know from Figment). I was looking through all my Figment friends and she's the first one with an actual blog that I came across. I assume this is about math, since she's studying to be a math teacher and also, the name.
OK, I give up. Nine blogs is enough. I'm not even making them do all this stuff.
Anyway, do you want a poem? I might have a poem hanging around here. Oh yeah... my Semicolon-Disrespecting Friend (by the way, that's her name forever. BES, Mrs. Econ, Special Snowflake... I'm really good at this nicknaming thing!) and I were writing poems on random subjects on Friday, so here's the result of that...
SUBJECT: Lamp posts
Standing sentinel
To the light-locked roads
Old and rusted and tall
The lamp post on the snow-coated streets
It watches over us all
Waiting in the coldest night
Waiting for a sign
Of the sun rising to bring us light
So its candle can burn
Can fall
SUBJECT: Stickers
Stickers, stickers
on the wall
On the floor, the desks and the halls
On the tables and the chairs
In my nose, in my hair
Stickers here
Stickers there
Stickers, stickers everywhere
And underneath that I drew people dying with amazement at its beauty.
Look, I was tired after the last day of school. :)
Damn it, this song makes me sing out loud every time. Next is Hedwig's Theme, which I also love too much.
OK... I have to go do my AP US homework, I think. Siiiigggh. You know I won't.
I shall write later.
Your homework-laden poet,
magic*esi
Monday, June 25, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
sooo... Sorry if that freaked you out (Part 2 of the Lucky 7 thing)
Gotta squeeze in a quick post since my friend (who disrespects semicolons, by the way; I just found out today) is coming back soon.
OK, so yeah, sorry if that ending freaked you out. Which I doubt it did. But the very next day I went to tech and The Wishmaker was safe and sound. Algebra 2, alas, was not. I got an 86. But all is well because I GOT A 96 ON MY CHEM FINAL.
Crazy, right? An effing miracle, I call it.
So today was my last day of school, and I spent it wandering the hallways with my friends, chatting with the art teacher (they painted the door to the closet with a picture of Narnia. The closet's been called "Narnia" for years so it makes sense), and vandalizing the "Out of Order" signs on all the bathrooms by writing stuff like "because of Moaning Myrtle" and "maybe if we used more semicolons they wouldn't be out of order". Stuff like that.
Uh, anyway... wow. Summer. Did I already list my summer plans? If I did, sucks for you, CAUSE I'M DOING IT AGAIN.
a) Hosting a French student. Her name's... oh wait, I don't know if she's cool with me putting it up here. Anywho, yeah, she'll be living here, so I have to get rid of all the toxic chemicals and avalanche-prone messes in my room.
b) Doing my AP Lit, AP Bio, and AP US assignments. I ran into my future AP Stat teacher today and he said, "Oh, yeah, there isn't an AP Stat summer assignment. And don't worry about the prerequisite. There isn't really one. AP Stat isn't really math anyway. I heard you were more into the humanities... that's cool." So, yeah, that's a relief. I heard he's basically a genius, which is cool, considering I'm a genius too (or at least that's what I hear. I'm not really a genius).
c) Going to the Write It Conference in Chicago! I'm so excited!
d) Going for a week to Vermont, because there's cheese there and stuff.
e) CAMP NANOWRIMO! I need to finish The Gold Door so I can just get this trilogy done already. I only have about 30K left before it's done but I might as well try for 50K and finish where I finish.
f) Editing the accursed Eraser. I want to start querying by junior year, dammit.
Anywho. Let me go do that Lucky 7 thing already...
7 sentences after the 7th line on the 77th page of The Wishmaker (which, by the way, apparently has 199 pages now):
OK... I'm listening to Les Avions en Papier again. It reminds me that I'm not a sophomore anymore. It's so weird.
You wait 'til I graduate high school. Every five seconds. "Oh Gosh! Again I am flooded with memories! To be out of school! It is the strangest experience! It is dreamlike! I feel like a ghost!"
Read this melodramatic stuff from my journal...
Oh never mind. I didn't write in my journal today and it'll just remind me and I'll feel sad.
Here's my poem, "Footprints". I wrote it in the back of one of my journals from last summer in Europe. It sort of describes what I feel about traveling.
Sigh... I'm listening to "Here Comes the Sun" now. The quote I wanted to say from my journal is just perfect. But I don't feel like getting it. BUT IT'S SO PERFECT.
All right, here's the damn poem:
Footprints
My feet are itchy
They're singing
Singing a song of
"Travel your skies
And say your goodbyes
Leave this place
Take your part in the race
The race against time"
It's raining
The rain's whispering
Whispering a tune of
"Leave, leave, leave
Cross the ocean blue
For, my dear, you
You are a traveler
You must W-A-N-D-E-R
Or always wonder
What's out there in the world"
I hear your songs
And feel that itch
Controlled by mad wanderlust
Now that summer's here, I remember what it's like to so desperately go home. Before, it was easy to forget, to slide into a state of being American, to be content to be here. But now... I have to go back. I don't care that it's positively ridiculous to decide where one's home is based on two days in a city halfway across the world. I haven't a drop of Italian blood, a single Italian relative on my family tree, and I was in Italy a week in my life. But I know that Roma is my home. I'm not saying I'll live there. I'm just saying it's where my heart is.
Here's the journal quote; I got the courage to get it after all:
(Some background: Each year I choose a "Worst Word of the Year", the word that sums up the struggle I had. In third grade I chose "cool" because I wanted to be cool but wasn't; in fourth grade I chose "weird" because people bullied me for being weird; in fifth grade I chose "misbehave" because everyone was rebelling and I wasn't; in sixth grade I chose "talk" because of all the gossip; in seventh grade I chose "reality" because I was getting used to the real world; in eighth grade I chose "change" because stuff changed; and in ninth grade I chose "renaissance" because things from my past were being resurrected, but I was being reborn.)
Anywho...
"Hold on. This is the end of tenth grade.
What.
This has been... such a long year. Like, last year zipped by. But this year. This year felt like it lasted forever. Seriously, September feels like ages ago. You have no idea. What the hell happened?
I guess a lot changed.
What was this year's Worst Word? Those stopped being really definitive a while ago. It was "challenge". Ha, that's probably better for junior year... It didn't fit.
What's the real Worst Word?
Indecision?
Indecision.
But while I've been indecisive for very long about many things, I've made all my decisions now. I know... myself now.
OK. Wow... the summer is so close, after so long. The warm, long, free summer. No, I won't be back [home], not this summer. But I am doing a lot, and I have myself. I always do.
And then junior year. Junior year...
I keep on taking steps closer to my dreams."
OK, the Semicolon Disrespecting Friend is back. So I have to go. Bye.
OK, so yeah, sorry if that ending freaked you out. Which I doubt it did. But the very next day I went to tech and The Wishmaker was safe and sound. Algebra 2, alas, was not. I got an 86. But all is well because I GOT A 96 ON MY CHEM FINAL.
Crazy, right? An effing miracle, I call it.
So today was my last day of school, and I spent it wandering the hallways with my friends, chatting with the art teacher (they painted the door to the closet with a picture of Narnia. The closet's been called "Narnia" for years so it makes sense), and vandalizing the "Out of Order" signs on all the bathrooms by writing stuff like "because of Moaning Myrtle" and "maybe if we used more semicolons they wouldn't be out of order". Stuff like that.
Uh, anyway... wow. Summer. Did I already list my summer plans? If I did, sucks for you, CAUSE I'M DOING IT AGAIN.
a) Hosting a French student. Her name's... oh wait, I don't know if she's cool with me putting it up here. Anywho, yeah, she'll be living here, so I have to get rid of all the toxic chemicals and avalanche-prone messes in my room.
b) Doing my AP Lit, AP Bio, and AP US assignments. I ran into my future AP Stat teacher today and he said, "Oh, yeah, there isn't an AP Stat summer assignment. And don't worry about the prerequisite. There isn't really one. AP Stat isn't really math anyway. I heard you were more into the humanities... that's cool." So, yeah, that's a relief. I heard he's basically a genius, which is cool, considering I'm a genius too (or at least that's what I hear. I'm not really a genius).
c) Going to the Write It Conference in Chicago! I'm so excited!
d) Going for a week to Vermont, because there's cheese there and stuff.
e) CAMP NANOWRIMO! I need to finish The Gold Door so I can just get this trilogy done already. I only have about 30K left before it's done but I might as well try for 50K and finish where I finish.
f) Editing the accursed Eraser. I want to start querying by junior year, dammit.
Anywho. Let me go do that Lucky 7 thing already...
7 sentences after the 7th line on the 77th page of The Wishmaker (which, by the way, apparently has 199 pages now):
When
they got back, the kids exhaustedly dropped their baskets next to the others
and ran to join the lunch table.
“Where have you been?” Aunt Hannah
asked worriedly.
“Collecting leaves,” Aaron answered.
“We went way into the woods to find somewhere that the rain hadn’t reached, so
it took us a while to get back.”
“Yeah, a really long while,” Aaron’s
Uncle Jacob said. “Come on, have some lunch. There are still a few bagels left
over.”
OK... I'm listening to Les Avions en Papier again. It reminds me that I'm not a sophomore anymore. It's so weird.
You wait 'til I graduate high school. Every five seconds. "Oh Gosh! Again I am flooded with memories! To be out of school! It is the strangest experience! It is dreamlike! I feel like a ghost!"
Read this melodramatic stuff from my journal...
Oh never mind. I didn't write in my journal today and it'll just remind me and I'll feel sad.
Here's my poem, "Footprints". I wrote it in the back of one of my journals from last summer in Europe. It sort of describes what I feel about traveling.
Sigh... I'm listening to "Here Comes the Sun" now. The quote I wanted to say from my journal is just perfect. But I don't feel like getting it. BUT IT'S SO PERFECT.
All right, here's the damn poem:
Footprints
My feet are itchy
They're singing
Singing a song of
"Travel your skies
And say your goodbyes
Leave this place
Take your part in the race
The race against time"
It's raining
The rain's whispering
Whispering a tune of
"Leave, leave, leave
Cross the ocean blue
For, my dear, you
You are a traveler
You must W-A-N-D-E-R
Or always wonder
What's out there in the world"
I hear your songs
And feel that itch
Controlled by mad wanderlust
Now that summer's here, I remember what it's like to so desperately go home. Before, it was easy to forget, to slide into a state of being American, to be content to be here. But now... I have to go back. I don't care that it's positively ridiculous to decide where one's home is based on two days in a city halfway across the world. I haven't a drop of Italian blood, a single Italian relative on my family tree, and I was in Italy a week in my life. But I know that Roma is my home. I'm not saying I'll live there. I'm just saying it's where my heart is.
Here's the journal quote; I got the courage to get it after all:
(Some background: Each year I choose a "Worst Word of the Year", the word that sums up the struggle I had. In third grade I chose "cool" because I wanted to be cool but wasn't; in fourth grade I chose "weird" because people bullied me for being weird; in fifth grade I chose "misbehave" because everyone was rebelling and I wasn't; in sixth grade I chose "talk" because of all the gossip; in seventh grade I chose "reality" because I was getting used to the real world; in eighth grade I chose "change" because stuff changed; and in ninth grade I chose "renaissance" because things from my past were being resurrected, but I was being reborn.)
Anywho...
"Hold on. This is the end of tenth grade.
What.
This has been... such a long year. Like, last year zipped by. But this year. This year felt like it lasted forever. Seriously, September feels like ages ago. You have no idea. What the hell happened?
I guess a lot changed.
What was this year's Worst Word? Those stopped being really definitive a while ago. It was "challenge". Ha, that's probably better for junior year... It didn't fit.
What's the real Worst Word?
Indecision?
Indecision.
But while I've been indecisive for very long about many things, I've made all my decisions now. I know... myself now.
OK. Wow... the summer is so close, after so long. The warm, long, free summer. No, I won't be back [home], not this summer. But I am doing a lot, and I have myself. I always do.
And then junior year. Junior year...
I keep on taking steps closer to my dreams."
OK, the Semicolon Disrespecting Friend is back. So I have to go. Bye.
Monday, June 18, 2012
I'M STUDYING FOR FINALS
GOD LEAVE ME ALONE OKAY?
Anywho, I want all you nonexistent readers to meet Julia, who now apparently reads my blog. :) She's very friendly and will not murder you like I have done on several occasions. You are required to share your popcorn with her. If you want, you can explain all my weird acronyms, too.
Anyway... so yeah, I haven't posted in about a month. I do not have any new poems; that's why. IN THAT MONTH THE FOLLOWING HAS OCCURRED:
-I worked on The Wishmaker some more
-I got first place in some user-made contest on Figment. Which is awesome.
-I handed in my laptop (that's right. Much like my first post, I am writing this on my desktop computer. Oh God the nostalgia... December... only now I'm listening to Hedwig's Theme instead of Caresse sur l'ocean) and this year I was careful to back everything up.
-I handed in my Gifted People Program end-of-year research project LATE. Ha ha. I'm such a rebel.
-My family signed up to host a French student this summer. Yay, I'm excited.
-I had my first four finals, in the last few days. French was easy; in English we literally watched a movie and answered one question (one kid brought in Munchkins). Then Econ this morning. Yes, the hated subject. Our final was making a budget for the future. Everyone else was moaning about how difficult it was and I'm like, "Guys. You're planning on making, like, $100 billion a month. I'm working with a $3000 budget here and you don't see me complaining." And my US final was easy. Haha, our teacher said to try and only use one piece of paper for the essay, so I wrote really small.
-I began studying for Algebra 2 earlier this afternoon.
Now that you all are caught up on all the super-important details of my life, here's why I'm back:
a) stupid Algebra 2
b) Julia (the aforementioned) asked me to do this challenge thing here:
The Lucky 7 Meme Award Rules are as such:
1. Go to the 7th or 77th page of your work in progress.
2. Go to the 7th line of the page.
3. Copy the next 7 sentences or paragraphs. Remember, they must be as they are typed.
4. Tag 7 authors.
5. Let them know they’re it!
So yeah, the two people I know who have a blog are my mom (http://osnat-kitchentokitchen.blogspot.com) who shall never know about this blog (ehem, read the past entries- or actually, please don't) and Julia (https://juliathewritergirl.wordpress.com) who, uh, was the one that tagged me.
SO here is the list of authors I would tag if I knew them personally:
1) J.K. Rowling and her imaginary blog, "Life from the point of view of the best writer in the world"
2) Henry David Thoreau and his imaginary blog, "Recipes and Philosophy from a Sort-of Vegetarian who's also awesome at life"
3) Neil Gaiman and his imaginary blog, "OBEY MY COMMANDS. I'm NEIL EFFING GAIMAN."
4) William Shakespeare and his imaginary blog, "I Probably Invented the Word Blog."
5) Suzanne Collins and her imaginary blog, "Read this Blog or Die in a horrible way that I'll describe in minute detail"
6) Mae Silverstein and her imaginary blog, "My Misadventures Giving Ariel Trouble and generally being annoying"
7) Virginia Woolf and her imaginary blog, "Early Feminism and also early death"
So, yes. I suck at this challenge. If any of these authors happen to see this, and have a real blog for some reason (even despite some being dead and from an era before computers), they could totally do the challenge.
OK. Time for the excitement of... The Wishmaker! (and after that I'm going to post a poem and take a shower and study how to graph hyperbolas)
Um... bye.
I just realized I lost the last few chapters of The Wishmaker forever.
So... I hope my school didn't erase my laptop yet. Which they probably did.
If so... I... I don't know how I'll live anymore.
Bye.
Anywho, I want all you nonexistent readers to meet Julia, who now apparently reads my blog. :) She's very friendly and will not murder you like I have done on several occasions. You are required to share your popcorn with her. If you want, you can explain all my weird acronyms, too.
Anyway... so yeah, I haven't posted in about a month. I do not have any new poems; that's why. IN THAT MONTH THE FOLLOWING HAS OCCURRED:
-I worked on The Wishmaker some more
-I got first place in some user-made contest on Figment. Which is awesome.
-I handed in my laptop (that's right. Much like my first post, I am writing this on my desktop computer. Oh God the nostalgia... December... only now I'm listening to Hedwig's Theme instead of Caresse sur l'ocean) and this year I was careful to back everything up.
-I handed in my Gifted People Program end-of-year research project LATE. Ha ha. I'm such a rebel.
-My family signed up to host a French student this summer. Yay, I'm excited.
-I had my first four finals, in the last few days. French was easy; in English we literally watched a movie and answered one question (one kid brought in Munchkins). Then Econ this morning. Yes, the hated subject. Our final was making a budget for the future. Everyone else was moaning about how difficult it was and I'm like, "Guys. You're planning on making, like, $100 billion a month. I'm working with a $3000 budget here and you don't see me complaining." And my US final was easy. Haha, our teacher said to try and only use one piece of paper for the essay, so I wrote really small.
-I began studying for Algebra 2 earlier this afternoon.
Now that you all are caught up on all the super-important details of my life, here's why I'm back:
a) stupid Algebra 2
b) Julia (the aforementioned) asked me to do this challenge thing here:
The Lucky 7 Meme Award Rules are as such:
1. Go to the 7th or 77th page of your work in progress.
2. Go to the 7th line of the page.
3. Copy the next 7 sentences or paragraphs. Remember, they must be as they are typed.
4. Tag 7 authors.
5. Let them know they’re it!
So yeah, the two people I know who have a blog are my mom (http://osnat-kitchentokitchen.blogspot.com) who shall never know about this blog (ehem, read the past entries- or actually, please don't) and Julia (https://juliathewritergirl.wordpress.com) who, uh, was the one that tagged me.
SO here is the list of authors I would tag if I knew them personally:
1) J.K. Rowling and her imaginary blog, "Life from the point of view of the best writer in the world"
2) Henry David Thoreau and his imaginary blog, "Recipes and Philosophy from a Sort-of Vegetarian who's also awesome at life"
3) Neil Gaiman and his imaginary blog, "OBEY MY COMMANDS. I'm NEIL EFFING GAIMAN."
4) William Shakespeare and his imaginary blog, "I Probably Invented the Word Blog."
5) Suzanne Collins and her imaginary blog, "Read this Blog or Die in a horrible way that I'll describe in minute detail"
6) Mae Silverstein and her imaginary blog, "My Misadventures Giving Ariel Trouble and generally being annoying"
7) Virginia Woolf and her imaginary blog, "Early Feminism and also early death"
So, yes. I suck at this challenge. If any of these authors happen to see this, and have a real blog for some reason (even despite some being dead and from an era before computers), they could totally do the challenge.
OK. Time for the excitement of... The Wishmaker! (and after that I'm going to post a poem and take a shower and study how to graph hyperbolas)
Um... bye.
I just realized I lost the last few chapters of The Wishmaker forever.
So... I hope my school didn't erase my laptop yet. Which they probably did.
If so... I... I don't know how I'll live anymore.
Bye.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
It's raining again!
Sorry I haven't posted in forever... Ack, it's the end of a five-day weekend and I have school in 10 hours. But it's early-summery-storming and I just love it. There's always that thing about each season that you forget when you're not in that season, and then you experience it again and you love it and wish you could remember it the rest of the year, but you always, always forget.
In that vein, here's a poem about rain. It's not about early summer storms, it's about mid-spring storms, and there's a world of difference. The rain is my best friend. I would know.
Give Me Rain
In that vein, here's a poem about rain. It's not about early summer storms, it's about mid-spring storms, and there's a world of difference. The rain is my best friend. I would know.
Give Me Rain
RAIN
Storming drumbeats
Passionate, flying, wildly dancing raindrops
Thunderclaps
like heartbeats
Lightning
Is electricity pulsing through my soul
My dark,
violet, copper-colored night air
Dark sky
Soul
Crackling with lightning and thunder
And dancing to the raindrops
Trees, tossing their heads wildly
Can’t they have one last dance
Before they’re cut down
To make room for
Suburban lawns and strip malls
God, give me rain
Give me wind
Give me stormclouds
I long for the nights where I lay awake
Eyes wide open
To dance with raindrops
I want to fall asleep
To the lullaby of softly pattering rain
And drizzling, dripping drops
And wake to a haze of muted green and blue
Sidewalks with worms scattered
Like the pieces of my soul
and my hair
and the leaves on the trees
Before they are all packed
neatly back into their
summertime box
One last dance
Give me one last rainstorm
Rain
Give me rain
Also, it appears I forgot I wrote this little gem in economics.
OMIGOD IT JUST THUNDERED. OH MY GOD. YAAAAY.
Anyway, I forgot I wrote this little gem in economics, as I was saying. Gosh, economics just inspires a hatred of the world for me. I think it's Special Snowflake and BES and the general subject that I hate. (P.S. BES and Special Snowflake are genuinely no longer an issue I swear I really swear.) Oh yeah, by the way, I feel more confident about the AP exam now. I most likely got a 4, but I might get a 5. Possibly. Not.
ANYWAY. Poem:
The Rat Race
Hello, fellow students
I plan to go into art history
And before you say anything,
no, my only concern in life
is not getting a fancy, expensive car
So please,
no comments until the end of the presentation
I want a job in a museum
Yes, those are difficult to get
In case you hadn’t noticed,
while you were busy
playing video games
and playing at being grown-up
I was acing every test
and was the top of the class
So I think I might have a chance
Yes, the salary is low, that’s right
Yes, that’s a very hipster job
Yes, you rather do expect
that in a few years
I won’t be saying,
“Look at that painting of a woman in a hat”
but rather
“Would you like fries with that?”
You’re so witty
Why don’t you go stand
with the mile-long line
of doctors, lawyers, engineers
Hadn’t I planned to be a writer?
No, that’s already checked off
my to-do list
I’m already a writer
I have always been a writer
I don’t need a degree in anything
to be a writer
Run, run, run
Keep racing in your rat-wheel
Settle in a suburban home
With a nuclear family
And pin your diploma up on the wall
Commute to work each day
with a briefcase
Calls, calls, meetings, calls
Race the others ‘til you fall
Boom, thud, it falls in place
Make-up on your corpse’s face
Pick out a designer tomb
And cry now you know
who is better than whom
You’re just time’s slave
As the clock ticks on
Tick, tick, tick, tick
Buried and dead before the dawn
Go ahead,
choose
the safer path
Get your paycheck
Get approval
Get your fancy,
expensive car
Be rich,
and wonder why you are
Is it really better
to know
you’ll never go far?
Yep. Grammar. It helps you rhyme.
That poem doesn't cover the extent of my feelings about the subject, but it was all I could write in the 42-minute period.
Anyway... I'm listening to "Featherstone" by the Paper Kites. It's my new squealing song. "Yellow" by Coldplay was my one from last week, when I didn't post on here. I forgot how fun it is to post here. I like it here.
Oh well. It doesn't matter much. I'm very calm and idyllically tranquil and happy, which is odd considering it's the night before I have to go back to school after a long weekend- usually a cause of maaajor stress for me.
It's all right though.
I'll write more soon.
Your peaceful rain-loving poet,
Ariel
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
News on my life
So I just took the AP English Language exam. Like, it ended two hours ago. I'm basically brain-dead now, so sorry if this isn't, you know, super duper articulate.
Yeah, I know you don't care. Good for you. I'm worthless. That's been made pretty damn clear; it doesn't have to be re-hammered in.
I highly doubt I got a 5. Like, a 4, if I'm lucky. I was so nervous I did horribly on the multiple choice, wrote a half-decent synthesis essay- admittedly I think I did very well on analysis, despite disregarding certain rhetorical strategies- and a horrible, horrible argument essay.
Won't reveal anything else, since it's, you know, against the law, and nobody takes that law seriously but I don't want my score disqualified, regardless of the fact that I know I failed.
Uh, I mainly wrote this because I'm bored and I WOULD read but I think my mind can't handle any more reading right now. Also I want to bump that awful post from the top. I'll probably delete everything but the poem anyway.
OK. I don't really have any appropriate poems to post. I'm just... sort of annoyed with the test content. I can't say anything more. It's surprising that I am annoyed with it, because everyone else loved it for the reason I hated it. Again... stupid College Board restrictions. Like, what, people in California have enclosed phones in their skin where they're looking this stuff up?
So... yeah. I could have gotten a 5, if not for being too nervous to do well and the content not really being suited to my area of ability. I'm not going to be unrealistic and say, "I WOULD HAVE FAILED EVEN IF THE ONLY QUESTION WAS HOW TO SPELL CAT". No. I know I'm half-decent at English. I just wish I hadn't done so horribly today.
I really should just go do my Chem homework, so when I get home I can curl up into a ball and realize I'm not going to get into a good college.
Bye,
Ariel
Yeah, I know you don't care. Good for you. I'm worthless. That's been made pretty damn clear; it doesn't have to be re-hammered in.
I highly doubt I got a 5. Like, a 4, if I'm lucky. I was so nervous I did horribly on the multiple choice, wrote a half-decent synthesis essay- admittedly I think I did very well on analysis, despite disregarding certain rhetorical strategies- and a horrible, horrible argument essay.
Won't reveal anything else, since it's, you know, against the law, and nobody takes that law seriously but I don't want my score disqualified, regardless of the fact that I know I failed.
Uh, I mainly wrote this because I'm bored and I WOULD read but I think my mind can't handle any more reading right now. Also I want to bump that awful post from the top. I'll probably delete everything but the poem anyway.
OK. I don't really have any appropriate poems to post. I'm just... sort of annoyed with the test content. I can't say anything more. It's surprising that I am annoyed with it, because everyone else loved it for the reason I hated it. Again... stupid College Board restrictions. Like, what, people in California have enclosed phones in their skin where they're looking this stuff up?
So... yeah. I could have gotten a 5, if not for being too nervous to do well and the content not really being suited to my area of ability. I'm not going to be unrealistic and say, "I WOULD HAVE FAILED EVEN IF THE ONLY QUESTION WAS HOW TO SPELL CAT". No. I know I'm half-decent at English. I just wish I hadn't done so horribly today.
I really should just go do my Chem homework, so when I get home I can curl up into a ball and realize I'm not going to get into a good college.
Bye,
Ariel
Friday, May 11, 2012
Another Poem: "I Wonder"
GUYS: Here's the poem. If you want the backstory, you can read all this crap, or you can read the summary bit at the bottom. Or this sentence: "Love is some weird confusing shit. Here are my thoughts on that."
Update: I deleted a good deal of it. You'll be grateful. It's boring.
I Wonder
So I'm way too tired to rant about my life but I have the AP English Language exam next week and I know I'm not even going to get a 3 so don't you little nonexistent fellows worry your nonexistent heads about it alright.
I wrote another poem a while ago. I have a crap load of these that I haven't posted here. My SONG, for one, and one called "Footsteps" or something, and "Give Me Rain" which I haven't posted since it hasn't rained.
(The main point of the text block that used to be here is something stupid. The point is that I. DO. NOT. LIKE. THE. PERSON. I. USED. TO. LIKE. ANY. MORE. I THINK HE SUCKS. HE IS TERRIBLE. IT IS NOT EVEN AN INTERNAL CONFLICT ANYMORE. IT IS DONE. IT IS DECIDED. I DO NOT LIKE HIM. THE. END.)
And none of that is the point of my poem. Ha ha, did you just read all of that? Well, sucks for you. Anyway, the point of my poem is that I felt sad that a sort of era was ending. We were driving through Manhattan at sunset and I pondered over the fact that I may never know what love feels like again. Is that good or bad? Curious... We were listening to this beautiful song "Sad Romance". If you're writing, well, a sad romance, use that song. It is PERFECT.
The bit about the moon is because there was a Super Moon and I couldn't see it due to the fog. And in the same way, my love was like a moon, and now is hidden behind the fog. Oh, so poetic, yada yada yada.
OK. So now off to hope no one in my real life ever sees this ever, even when I'm 80 years old and biographers are digging up shit to put in The Life and Lies of Ariel for my future starry-eyed pupils to be shocked at. Maybe I should just be gay for an evil wizard, that'd be better than this. Quick? Any evil female wizards? Anyone?
Hey, is "be gay for" homophobic? 'Cause one wouldn't say "be straight for" in regards to being sexually attracted to the opposite sex... I wasn't straight for BES...
Whatever. As aforementioned, I'm like, half asleep.
'Kay. Goodbye, all.
Your tired poet who needs to study,
Ariel
Update: I deleted a good deal of it. You'll be grateful. It's boring.
I Wonder
“I wonder what it’s like
to be at the top of one of those skyscrapers”
I wonder what it’s like
to be in love.
Maybe I’ll never know.
I’ll never remember.
Whoosh-
lights everywhere in the city
eerie orange fog
Perfect, invisible moon.
Like my love for you
so beautiful, so overwhelming
A mere reflection
of you, the shining sun in my life
Like my love for you
That disappeared behind the fog
So beautiful
Now invisible
It is possible to fall out of love,
and it is wonderful to be free
to not be tied down to you anymore
But what was it about you,
about love,
that made my spirit soar?
How did I see
that our souls were patterned the same way?
How did I see
that I had found someone to believe in
to admire
to love
Your eyes disappeared in the sky
Tell me, o lost wayward poets...
Remind me...
What is it like to be in love?
So I'm way too tired to rant about my life but I have the AP English Language exam next week and I know I'm not even going to get a 3 so don't you little nonexistent fellows worry your nonexistent heads about it alright.
I wrote another poem a while ago. I have a crap load of these that I haven't posted here. My SONG, for one, and one called "Footsteps" or something, and "Give Me Rain" which I haven't posted since it hasn't rained.
(The main point of the text block that used to be here is something stupid. The point is that I. DO. NOT. LIKE. THE. PERSON. I. USED. TO. LIKE. ANY. MORE. I THINK HE SUCKS. HE IS TERRIBLE. IT IS NOT EVEN AN INTERNAL CONFLICT ANYMORE. IT IS DONE. IT IS DECIDED. I DO NOT LIKE HIM. THE. END.)
And none of that is the point of my poem. Ha ha, did you just read all of that? Well, sucks for you. Anyway, the point of my poem is that I felt sad that a sort of era was ending. We were driving through Manhattan at sunset and I pondered over the fact that I may never know what love feels like again. Is that good or bad? Curious... We were listening to this beautiful song "Sad Romance". If you're writing, well, a sad romance, use that song. It is PERFECT.
The bit about the moon is because there was a Super Moon and I couldn't see it due to the fog. And in the same way, my love was like a moon, and now is hidden behind the fog. Oh, so poetic, yada yada yada.
OK. So now off to hope no one in my real life ever sees this ever, even when I'm 80 years old and biographers are digging up shit to put in The Life and Lies of Ariel for my future starry-eyed pupils to be shocked at. Maybe I should just be gay for an evil wizard, that'd be better than this. Quick? Any evil female wizards? Anyone?
Hey, is "be gay for" homophobic? 'Cause one wouldn't say "be straight for" in regards to being sexually attracted to the opposite sex... I wasn't straight for BES...
Whatever. As aforementioned, I'm like, half asleep.
'Kay. Goodbye, all.
Your tired poet who needs to study,
Ariel
Monday, May 7, 2012
I Didn't Know It Was a Crime to Be a Feminist
Why do I go on Figment?
I can't stop crying.
Songbird
I have to do my homework, now, though my French homework doesn't make sense (but I'm not much good in French anyway) so I'll do my Algebra 2 homework.
I mean that no one thinks I'm pretty, and I don't mind; but no one thinks I'm smart, and that bothers me a lot. I wish someone thought I was smart, or you know, worth something. It hurts to be thought of as the stupid, naive one. It hurts a lot.
Being intelligent matters to me. Being a good writer matters to me. But no one thinks I am either.
I'm still crying.
I wish I was home. Knowing my luck, I'll die here, in the midst of this American suburbia, with no last words to mark that even I thought I could be worth something.
I wish I could depict how I feel without saying I'm crying, but you know I can't write to save my life, so I can't.
Now I really have to go do my homework. Goodbye, nonexistent readers.
From your worthless poet,
Ariel
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: I do not feel worthless anymore! I am full of great self confidence! This is old angst! Ignore it!
I can't stop crying.
Songbird
I’m like a songbird
Who, after hibernating in the soft burrow
in the woods
for a dozen years
pokes her head out.
Is relatively unharmed,
and flies a little higher up.
Then tries to sing
a melodic harmony
only to be shot
by a battalion of arrows
and fall
to the
ground
dead
My little bird
without the words
left me
to sing somewhere else
So I lay here, left for dead
I knew
I didn’t have pretty colored feathers
like the parakeets
and it didn’t bother me
But I at least
had wished
I wouldn’t have been shot
for my voice
Alas,
you’ll never hear this songbird
sing
again.
I have to do my homework, now, though my French homework doesn't make sense (but I'm not much good in French anyway) so I'll do my Algebra 2 homework.
I mean that no one thinks I'm pretty, and I don't mind; but no one thinks I'm smart, and that bothers me a lot. I wish someone thought I was smart, or you know, worth something. It hurts to be thought of as the stupid, naive one. It hurts a lot.
Being intelligent matters to me. Being a good writer matters to me. But no one thinks I am either.
I'm still crying.
I wish I was home. Knowing my luck, I'll die here, in the midst of this American suburbia, with no last words to mark that even I thought I could be worth something.
I wish I could depict how I feel without saying I'm crying, but you know I can't write to save my life, so I can't.
Now I really have to go do my homework. Goodbye, nonexistent readers.
From your worthless poet,
Ariel
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: I do not feel worthless anymore! I am full of great self confidence! This is old angst! Ignore it!
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Has It Been Forever? It Has Not
First post of May! I feel like I barely post anymore. I mean, once people start reading this (that implies people eventually will, ha ha) I'll post regularly.
But don't expect that next year. You want to see my schedule for next year?
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: a lot of this stuff is really dumb. Like, AP Stats is a joke. It's really easy. So, yeah, I didn't know a lot back then.
French 4- lovely, but I've heard it's difficult
AP English Literature- YAAAAY
Journalism/Creative Writing- YAAAAY and a practical arts credit
AP US History- yay But difficult. (See my e.e. cummings-esque capitalization there?)
AP Statistics- Trust me, I didn't want to take this. I'm not even prepared- the prerequisite is calculus. I'm taking Algebra 2 this year. (Speaking of which, the whole point of this post is to procrastinate studying for my Algebra 2 test tomorrow.) But I'm required to by the stupid program at my school.
Lunch- SO DIFFICULT AAAH. :)
AP Bio- Should be difficult, but eh. I'm cool with bio.
Gym- Hatred, I hate it. Did you know this gym teacher, not even my gym teacher, did the following (in play format):
Random Dude: Hey. Ms. Crazy Sports (that's her name now, btw) wants you over there. Both of you.
My Friend and I: Uh, oh, all right. (Walk over there)
Ms. C (looks at my friend): You got a P.E. app on that phone?
My Friend: Wh-what?
Ms. C: An app. You know what an app is?
My Friend: (nods)
Ms. C: Well, you got a P.E. app? A physical education app?
My Friend: No...
Ms. C: Well, you must've been texting Michelle Obama or someone real important to let it interrupt P.E. (turns to me) And you! Is that book for English or P.E.?
Me: (looks at Walden) Uh... I'm just... uh... reading it... Should I put it away...?
Ms. C: Well, you both better put away those things in your lockers, and from now on, you don't bring anything to P.E. but that water bottle (points to my water bottle) and your self.
Earlier that day:
Friend at my lunch table: Ugh, are you kidding me?
Me: What?
Friend at my lunch table: (pointing to school paper) They're getting the turf field after all.
Me: MORE money spent on sports? Guess they'll take it from the arts...
Friend at my lunch table: We don't HAVE money for the arts to take from. We pay for it ourselves.
MORAL OF THE STORY: It is a better use of my time to learn and be enlightened then to stand around while people play volleyball around me.
Anywho. So that's my schedule, and a little anecdote in play format as well.
And the moral of THIS story is- would you look at that? I barely even have time to do my Algebra 2 homework anymore. Guess I just won't study. Too bad.
Oh, you wanted a poem? Here's a fun story: Yesterday, some Figgie (by the way, despite my constant bashing of Figment on here, I actually do adore the site. Lots of stuff I like comes out weird on here. For example, my English teacher. Or BES, a really nice person in real life. Special Snowflake is an idiot, though, and always shall be.) complained about a writing assignment to include all her vocab words in a poem. So she challenged us to try it. I, never one to turn down an opportunity not to do my economics homework, took the challenge.
It came out pretty well. It's basically "Shattered Crystal" with more fancy vocab words, but whatever.
Not bad, eh? Not bad. "I am rabid for life! I am starving for light!" That bit reminds me of something, for some reason... Don't know what...
OK, well, there's three minutes left in study hall and I need to mourn my Algebra 2 grade, so I'll post more some other time. Maybe "Give Me Rain"... though I'll save that for when it's raining... so maybe my traveler poem, or finally my song. (Remember that? Haha)
Your sports-hating poet,
Ariel
But don't expect that next year. You want to see my schedule for next year?
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: a lot of this stuff is really dumb. Like, AP Stats is a joke. It's really easy. So, yeah, I didn't know a lot back then.
French 4- lovely, but I've heard it's difficult
AP English Literature- YAAAAY
Journalism/Creative Writing- YAAAAY and a practical arts credit
AP US History- yay But difficult. (See my e.e. cummings-esque capitalization there?)
AP Statistics- Trust me, I didn't want to take this. I'm not even prepared- the prerequisite is calculus. I'm taking Algebra 2 this year. (Speaking of which, the whole point of this post is to procrastinate studying for my Algebra 2 test tomorrow.) But I'm required to by the stupid program at my school.
Lunch- SO DIFFICULT AAAH. :)
AP Bio- Should be difficult, but eh. I'm cool with bio.
Gym- Hatred, I hate it. Did you know this gym teacher, not even my gym teacher, did the following (in play format):
Random Dude: Hey. Ms. Crazy Sports (that's her name now, btw) wants you over there. Both of you.
My Friend and I: Uh, oh, all right. (Walk over there)
Ms. C (looks at my friend): You got a P.E. app on that phone?
My Friend: Wh-what?
Ms. C: An app. You know what an app is?
My Friend: (nods)
Ms. C: Well, you got a P.E. app? A physical education app?
My Friend: No...
Ms. C: Well, you must've been texting Michelle Obama or someone real important to let it interrupt P.E. (turns to me) And you! Is that book for English or P.E.?
Me: (looks at Walden) Uh... I'm just... uh... reading it... Should I put it away...?
Ms. C: Well, you both better put away those things in your lockers, and from now on, you don't bring anything to P.E. but that water bottle (points to my water bottle) and your self.
Earlier that day:
Friend at my lunch table: Ugh, are you kidding me?
Me: What?
Friend at my lunch table: (pointing to school paper) They're getting the turf field after all.
Me: MORE money spent on sports? Guess they'll take it from the arts...
Friend at my lunch table: We don't HAVE money for the arts to take from. We pay for it ourselves.
MORAL OF THE STORY: It is a better use of my time to learn and be enlightened then to stand around while people play volleyball around me.
Anywho. So that's my schedule, and a little anecdote in play format as well.
And the moral of THIS story is- would you look at that? I barely even have time to do my Algebra 2 homework anymore. Guess I just won't study. Too bad.
Oh, you wanted a poem? Here's a fun story: Yesterday, some Figgie (by the way, despite my constant bashing of Figment on here, I actually do adore the site. Lots of stuff I like comes out weird on here. For example, my English teacher. Or BES, a really nice person in real life. Special Snowflake is an idiot, though, and always shall be.) complained about a writing assignment to include all her vocab words in a poem. So she challenged us to try it. I, never one to turn down an opportunity not to do my economics homework, took the challenge.
It came out pretty well. It's basically "Shattered Crystal" with more fancy vocab words, but whatever.
Sterling silver coins
Do not console me
And I find no asylum
In the dross diamonds
(that make up your world)
This place
is not impervious
to abasement
And soon,
the
light
will
dwindle
Don’t warp my words
With your
fallacious arguments
I see your vicious eyes!
Like a blood-red sunrise
I am not liable for
your glass minds.
Why should I remunerate you
with my assurance
that your institute
is yet immune
to
tainting
and corruption?
For it is tainted.
I will be flippant!
I will be pugnacious!
I will be preposterous!
There is a plethora
of wealth
But of life
there is a dearth
here
I am rabid for life!
I am starving for light!
I venture
to that realm
of rejuvenation
where your
sanguine smile
cannot touch me
Sparse bread, perhaps
is a small price to pay
for
effervescent life
I heed that clarion call
of music
beyond the horizon
Where I now dare
to go
Dilate my world
It is not
to be diminished
into small facts and figures
Or bits of precious metal
I am the sun.
Not bad, eh? Not bad. "I am rabid for life! I am starving for light!" That bit reminds me of something, for some reason... Don't know what...
OK, well, there's three minutes left in study hall and I need to mourn my Algebra 2 grade, so I'll post more some other time. Maybe "Give Me Rain"... though I'll save that for when it's raining... so maybe my traveler poem, or finally my song. (Remember that? Haha)
Your sports-hating poet,
Ariel
Thursday, April 26, 2012
"Nutella" and Economics
OK... So it's been precisely ten days since my last post, and I have something to complain about, so... you're getting a post. Ain't you happy, nonexistent readers.
I'm in chemistry right now, and it appears I have finished all the work I can do- my InLab. I WOULD do the Chapter 16.2 work only I don't have my textbook. And I, unlike everyone else, actually use the textbook. I used to read the textbook in full and take notes, but now that my chem teacher is actually teaching, it's kind of pointless. It does the same thing just to pay attention in class.
At any rate. It's been a mediocre day. It's supposed to rain, and I have work (at the library; I hope to God those demonic toddlers haven't decided to play the stupid game with the irritating butterfly song again while their parents mis-shelve all the picture books) for two hours after school. After that I plan to annotate a synthesis essay for AP English (exam in less than three weeks- I should be freaking out more than I am, honestly) and do a few Algebra 2 problems. Oh, and my Chapter 16.2 work.
But oh joy, my economics teacher cannot stand the thought of a mediocre day. (A mediocre lesson, on the other hand...) I might have mentioned the class before. I've written a post in it before- remember the one when I ranted about the "Special Snowflake"? (Dude, that is such a freaking perfect name for her. I've been calling her that in my head all the time now. It makes AP English, like, ten times more entertaining, especially since she's failing English and I've got an A.) UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: I no longer hate Special Snowflake. OK? Like, I really admire her for her intelligence and feminism and all that good stuff. Seriously. She didn't deserve one iota of the crap I gave her on this blog, so luckily she'll never see it.
OK, back to the past:
Don't think I've said much about my economics teacher, though. She's a friendly person, overall- somewhat old, fond of European history and such things, and has a skewed sense of humor that is usually funny to an extent. Likes to make fun of the Annoyingface Senior in my class. So that's fine.
Our curriculum isn't exactly complex- she posts assignments online and we do them. The assignments are usually in the pattern of one current event assignment a week, and then "chapter worksheets" at intervals where she creates a series of questions about a chapter in our textbook, and we have to use the textbook to answer them and submit it online. Fine by me. As you know if you have been loyally following these posts (which, since you are nonexistent and I create your personalities, you have) I am the sort of person who just looooves using the textbook. Seriously.
So on Tuesday, I diligently worked through class, consulting the chapter in the textbook, writing well-worded answers that answered the question fully and everything. There's a general sense, when submitting things online, that you don't have to actually do the work because "she doesn't check it anyway". This is true of my chemistry class. Not of my economics class. And let me say that in both classes, I disregard that notion and work very hard and honestly on my assignments.
Here's the fun part: My teacher- let's call her Mrs. Econ... Mrs. Econ announces in class today that our Chapter 10 and 11 worksheets will be graded by way of her picking five at random, grading them, and then averaging the five AND that's what everyone gets as their grade.
What the Crucio, Mrs. Econ? WHAT THE CRUCIO? Are you kidding me? No, it's not like I worked really hard to actually get a good grade. Now you're going to disregard that? That's unfair.
And now for all of you who just went "OH OH OH just wait until you get to college, the grading there is based on you doing 100-page reports and then the teacher pushes you off a cliff and whoever makes the coolest splat wins and if you utter a word of complaint they expel you and make you work on building the railroad", well you know what SHUT UP because I don't care; this is high school, not college. Besides, from what I've heard, the college grading system is based around making kids competitive by grading in a way that makes them strive to be best in the class rather than do their personal best. Here, however, being the best in the class would actually go AGAINST you... or rather, it doesn't matter at all. You could be best in the class, do a 150% job, consult the Secretary of the Treasury and come back with a full-length report regarding each of the issues presented in our chapter, and you could STILL fail, if everyone else sucks.
How is that fair exactly?
Mrs. Econ gave us the lame-ass excuse that, "It's so you help one another," but let's be real, she's doing this because she's lazy at grading. That, or she's just completely insane. Seriously, helping each other is not going to do a damn thing. And this class is full of idiots who are failing and don't do the work. It's not like everyone has about the same average anyway. The odds lean towards us all failing now.
So I just checked my grade in that class. 80. Well thanks. Do you know how hard I worked to get my grade up from an 80 last marking period? I had an A in her class, no, not an A-, an A, and now I have a B. An 80. And so does everyone else. And what do you want to bet that I would have gotten a 95 or higher on that assignment, had she graded it normally?
Suppose I got lucky this time. I'll probably get a 75 next time, considering it's all based on the luck of the draw. Well, bye bye, principal's honor roll next semester. And if this is how it works, I just might fail the class (as will everyone)... because failing last marking period means failing for good.
Aaaauuuuuuggghh. So glad I decided to take AP US History next year, instead of 20th Century with Mrs. Econ.
(Besides, I would've taken AP US anyway.)
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: Woooow, was I a whiny little bitch. Admittedly that's a dumb way to grade but really? Grades aren't everything. I apologize so much for this way of thinking.
Anyway.... so you scrolled down to see if I had a poem at all. Yes, yes I do have a poem.
Here ya go. I scribbled it a few days ago. If a Figgie sees this they'll go, "OH! This is the attention whore we saw on the forums a few days ago. Now I know why she seems like such a useless nothing who doesn't deserve to live. Got it now." UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: Oh shut up, past self.
Nutella
Yep. Not bad, eh?
Though that crepe was effing delicious, I'm not going to lie. (oh God, did I just say that. Oh no. I'm turning into one of them)
And sorry, I know, the accents are missing.
Why do I spend so much time on Figment anyway?
I miss Write It. The old Write It, the way it used to be.
I have a beautiful poem called "Give Me Rain" that I'm going to put up soon. It's like a more mature version of that crap poem I wrote in ninth grade, "Rain".
Anywho... school's almost over. So yeah. Still reading Walden; I love it. Readitreaditreaditreaditreadit.
So yeah... Sorry I haven't posted in so long; I just never think to. Besides, you're nonexistent, what do you care.
Surprised I managed to keep the blog up this long even on an every-so-often basis.
SO. Yes. Off I go.
AND Ariel's trivia question for the day: What were the names of the two headmasters Dumbledore summoned in OotP to warn the wizarding world that Mr. Weasley was dying?
Answer to that next post!
From your tired rainy poet,
magic*esi
UPDATER FROM THE FUTURE: Hey, I figured I might as well post the names of those headmasters since I never did back then. It's Everard something and Dilys Derwent.
I'm in chemistry right now, and it appears I have finished all the work I can do- my InLab. I WOULD do the Chapter 16.2 work only I don't have my textbook. And I, unlike everyone else, actually use the textbook. I used to read the textbook in full and take notes, but now that my chem teacher is actually teaching, it's kind of pointless. It does the same thing just to pay attention in class.
At any rate. It's been a mediocre day. It's supposed to rain, and I have work (at the library; I hope to God those demonic toddlers haven't decided to play the stupid game with the irritating butterfly song again while their parents mis-shelve all the picture books) for two hours after school. After that I plan to annotate a synthesis essay for AP English (exam in less than three weeks- I should be freaking out more than I am, honestly) and do a few Algebra 2 problems. Oh, and my Chapter 16.2 work.
But oh joy, my economics teacher cannot stand the thought of a mediocre day. (A mediocre lesson, on the other hand...) I might have mentioned the class before. I've written a post in it before- remember the one when I ranted about the "Special Snowflake"? (Dude, that is such a freaking perfect name for her. I've been calling her that in my head all the time now. It makes AP English, like, ten times more entertaining, especially since she's failing English and I've got an A.) UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: I no longer hate Special Snowflake. OK? Like, I really admire her for her intelligence and feminism and all that good stuff. Seriously. She didn't deserve one iota of the crap I gave her on this blog, so luckily she'll never see it.
OK, back to the past:
Don't think I've said much about my economics teacher, though. She's a friendly person, overall- somewhat old, fond of European history and such things, and has a skewed sense of humor that is usually funny to an extent. Likes to make fun of the Annoyingface Senior in my class. So that's fine.
Our curriculum isn't exactly complex- she posts assignments online and we do them. The assignments are usually in the pattern of one current event assignment a week, and then "chapter worksheets" at intervals where she creates a series of questions about a chapter in our textbook, and we have to use the textbook to answer them and submit it online. Fine by me. As you know if you have been loyally following these posts (which, since you are nonexistent and I create your personalities, you have) I am the sort of person who just looooves using the textbook. Seriously.
So on Tuesday, I diligently worked through class, consulting the chapter in the textbook, writing well-worded answers that answered the question fully and everything. There's a general sense, when submitting things online, that you don't have to actually do the work because "she doesn't check it anyway". This is true of my chemistry class. Not of my economics class. And let me say that in both classes, I disregard that notion and work very hard and honestly on my assignments.
Here's the fun part: My teacher- let's call her Mrs. Econ... Mrs. Econ announces in class today that our Chapter 10 and 11 worksheets will be graded by way of her picking five at random, grading them, and then averaging the five AND that's what everyone gets as their grade.
What the Crucio, Mrs. Econ? WHAT THE CRUCIO? Are you kidding me? No, it's not like I worked really hard to actually get a good grade. Now you're going to disregard that? That's unfair.
And now for all of you who just went "OH OH OH just wait until you get to college, the grading there is based on you doing 100-page reports and then the teacher pushes you off a cliff and whoever makes the coolest splat wins and if you utter a word of complaint they expel you and make you work on building the railroad", well you know what SHUT UP because I don't care; this is high school, not college. Besides, from what I've heard, the college grading system is based around making kids competitive by grading in a way that makes them strive to be best in the class rather than do their personal best. Here, however, being the best in the class would actually go AGAINST you... or rather, it doesn't matter at all. You could be best in the class, do a 150% job, consult the Secretary of the Treasury and come back with a full-length report regarding each of the issues presented in our chapter, and you could STILL fail, if everyone else sucks.
How is that fair exactly?
Mrs. Econ gave us the lame-ass excuse that, "It's so you help one another," but let's be real, she's doing this because she's lazy at grading. That, or she's just completely insane. Seriously, helping each other is not going to do a damn thing. And this class is full of idiots who are failing and don't do the work. It's not like everyone has about the same average anyway. The odds lean towards us all failing now.
So I just checked my grade in that class. 80. Well thanks. Do you know how hard I worked to get my grade up from an 80 last marking period? I had an A in her class, no, not an A-, an A, and now I have a B. An 80. And so does everyone else. And what do you want to bet that I would have gotten a 95 or higher on that assignment, had she graded it normally?
Suppose I got lucky this time. I'll probably get a 75 next time, considering it's all based on the luck of the draw. Well, bye bye, principal's honor roll next semester. And if this is how it works, I just might fail the class (as will everyone)... because failing last marking period means failing for good.
Aaaauuuuuuggghh. So glad I decided to take AP US History next year, instead of 20th Century with Mrs. Econ.
(Besides, I would've taken AP US anyway.)
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: Woooow, was I a whiny little bitch. Admittedly that's a dumb way to grade but really? Grades aren't everything. I apologize so much for this way of thinking.
Anyway.... so you scrolled down to see if I had a poem at all. Yes, yes I do have a poem.
Here ya go. I scribbled it a few days ago. If a Figgie sees this they'll go, "OH! This is the attention whore we saw on the forums a few days ago. Now I know why she seems like such a useless nothing who doesn't deserve to live. Got it now." UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: Oh shut up, past self.
Nutella
I had a Nutella crepe
this morning
It was good
Really, really good
Of course, it wasn’t as good
As the one I had
Warm from a street-side
(but still inside
a cafe somehow)
vendor
Who poured batter in swirls
onto a metal plate
And,
rapid as anything,
flipped it over,
spread
chocolaty, hazelnutty goodness on it,
and folded it in fours
with tongs
Straight into a piece of wax paper,
voila.
Off to sit with my friends
At the side of the alley
of tacky tourist shops
selling plastic Eiffel towers
Within walking distance
Of
Sacre-Coeur
On
our second-to-last day in Paris
Before
taking that awful
metal
flying beast
back to our tar suburban sprawl
where the sky shakes its head
and tells the sun
“do not shine here
they won’t see it
anyway”
The crepe I had this morning
Had strawberries
and bananas
and powdered sugar
And was served on a ceramic platter
On second thought,
I didn’t
really like it.
Yep. Not bad, eh?
Though that crepe was effing delicious, I'm not going to lie. (oh God, did I just say that. Oh no. I'm turning into one of them)
And sorry, I know, the accents are missing.
Why do I spend so much time on Figment anyway?
I miss Write It. The old Write It, the way it used to be.
I have a beautiful poem called "Give Me Rain" that I'm going to put up soon. It's like a more mature version of that crap poem I wrote in ninth grade, "Rain".
Anywho... school's almost over. So yeah. Still reading Walden; I love it. Readitreaditreaditreaditreadit.
So yeah... Sorry I haven't posted in so long; I just never think to. Besides, you're nonexistent, what do you care.
Surprised I managed to keep the blog up this long even on an every-so-often basis.
SO. Yes. Off I go.
AND Ariel's trivia question for the day: What were the names of the two headmasters Dumbledore summoned in OotP to warn the wizarding world that Mr. Weasley was dying?
Answer to that next post!
From your tired rainy poet,
magic*esi
UPDATER FROM THE FUTURE: Hey, I figured I might as well post the names of those headmasters since I never did back then. It's Everard something and Dilys Derwent.
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