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


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.






Monday, April 16, 2012

Mae's Poem

I know I've already posted on here today, but that was an angry rant, and this is a poem. Gosh. I haven't posted real poetry in forever.

So here it is. Mae's Poem.

Mae's Poem
Dreams
like rays of light from beneath the storm cloud.
Hopes
like the stars that fall to earth with all their goodness.
Wishes
like the leaves that change their colors in the autumn
I dreamt of you
while dancing under a moon beam
I hoped
to be saved
from drowning in the deep, dark ocean
I wished for love,
But words rained down on me instead.
Words, glorious words.
And I remembered
there is always a rainbow after a rainstorm
And I remembered
there is always a sunrise after a sunset
So now I pledge
to help you out of the darkness
So now I pledge
to never again return

Mae, in The Wishmaker, writes this poem.
Anywho. Hope ya liked it.
Bye.
From your poet,
Ariel

That Awkward Moment

when you've written three novels in a trilogy, each over 70,000 words, and are working on a new book currently at 64,000 words, and are on the third draft of the first book which you finished in eighth grade (only taking this long because you do really complex edits); when you've written dozens of poems of different types; have won prestigious awards for essay writing and poetry; when you've been on several writing sites, are pursuing an agent and publisher, and have been writing until you were six years old.

And your friend can't keep with one novel for more than ten pages, writes the exact same story for everything with the exact same name, declares that she has writer's block and decides to start yet another new story, is on page one and is hailed as the greatest writer ever.

Dude. Stop. I'm the writer here. All three of you, STOP. You're not writers. I don't CARE that writing isn't about length; if you can't stay with a story, you can't write- and I have read their writing, and only one of them is half-decent at all. The one I just discussed really, really sucks. The other one's pretty bad. My other friend (who is sitting right next to me) is really good at poetry, though.

Seriously, though. E-nough already. I'm about ready to murder them.

In other news, I'M ON POTTERMORE. JinxHeart13434. Eeeeeee, I love this place already! J.K. Rowling is WONDERFUL! Now there's a real writer. J.K. Rowling. She's my role model.
OK. Bye bye. I'm off to read about Vernon and Petunia's engagement.

-Ariel

UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: weeeelll isn't that nice. Aren't I a fucking bitch. Oh my God. Wow.  Look, the friend from the story is a terrible writer, I'll admit, but my other friends are quite good at writing. And Friend 1's bad writing is still no reason for me to be so goddamn rude. Geez. This is my idea of a formal apology, by the way.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Been Debating Whether to Post

Since I really should be doing my Economics work. Screw it, though. I haven't posted here in forever.
I have some poetry, but not with me. It's at home. I wrote it on paper for once.
(Prepare for angst time. Sorry. Besides, you're nonexistent, what do you care.)

UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: Haha lol sucks for you if you wanted to read that.

Anyway... So the WORST slash best part is that in English today, Fave Teacher starts talking, again, about how none of us are literate and none of us read and yada yada yada, because we didn't recognize that an excerpt was from Jane Eyre (which I've been planning to read for a while now, by the way, only now I can't bring it to school because she'll think I'm sucking up). And then she says... drumroll please... "LITERACY IS DECLINING IN THIS AGE. Books nowadays are going down in quality."
Hmmmm. Does THAT sound familiar?
Anyway, so then I just could not resist wearing a smug expression, because I'm full of myself, you all know that, and yeah.

I'd write more, but my Econ teacher just said, "It's due today."
AAAAAHHH! TEN MINUTES!
More later
Your anxious to finish the work poet,
Ariel

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Never Did Post That Song, Did I?

Yeah, sorry. I went on a field trip Thursday to Philly. We saw the Impressionists at the Philadelphia Museum (totally awesome), the Rodin Museum (which is closed, but the exterior is beautiful and we got to see Le Penseur, the Gates of Hell, and the Burghers of Calais), and a Zaha Hadid exhibit in the Perlman Building. Also something about cheesesteaks, but I'm a vegetarian, so I brought chocolate and ate that.
And on Friday we had, no joke, a pronoun test in English. Read my last post for more. Honestly, I love my English teacher, but pronouns? Really?
Then, let's see, I did a craft about butterflies, which was cute... (I run a craft/storytime at my library for 2-7 year olds... amazingly the most tolerable age... Around third grade they turn into little demons. Who I then have to teach about religion in my temple at my OTHER job)... And today I saw my school's musical, The Drowsy Chaperone, on closing night! For extra credit in English, mostly (an essay I wrote crappily brought my grade down ridiculously) but I also have some friends in it, and I really liked it, honestly. It was hilarious. If you haven't heard of it, here's a link to the Wikipedia article because I don't feel like explaining: The Drowsy Chaperone.

UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: there was a little bit here. Let me explain by paraphrasing from it: "I'm an adult in a teenager's body, and I'm playing at being a teenager anyway."

Anywho, I'm going to take a short bathroom break and then return to my rant, so you may notice a lack of anger coming up because I will have evacuated my bowels... (Sorry, was that too much information? Well YOUR FACE is nonexistent, Nonexistent Readers. So there.)
OK, I'm back...
Well, I guess that song will have to wait, again. I don't have much more of a rant in me.
Don't think any of you are too sad about that. :)
I'll post more some other day.

Your mixed-up poet,
magic*esi

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Pronouns Found That They Were Exceptionally Basic Points of Grammar

The pronouns also found that they did not need to be reviewed to a class of sophomores and juniors. These sophomores and juniors already knew about pronouns. The students are not lesser intellects than the teacher. The students really need to learn about aspects of voice and style, rather than what they are learning, which, unfortunately, is the proper way to use PRONOUNS.

I feel like a failure for this, though. Not because of pronouns, I know how to use pronouns, I'm just choosing to mess up on them in this blog in particular because I can. It's because:

a) I now have an 85 in AP English because I got a 70 on an essay and a 66 on a reading test.
b) Not because of pronouns, either- genuine writing issues.
c) I have a B in FOUR CLASSES. That's more than- oh- EVER. These classes are: US History, which is just a grading mistake which should be fixed soon enough; Chemistry, which was due to a bad grade on a test, my fault, and that should go up soon too; Economics, due to one assignment I didn't do- that's my fault for being lazy, but hopefully it'll go up; AAAAANNNND AP English, which is due to my being the worst writer in the world.

Yes, I know, I'm not the worst writer in the world. Still. You think it doesn't feel like that, when I see that I got a 70 on an essay?

d) EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: I'm an angstbucket.

AVPM Break: "Are you kids ready to fight draaaaagons? Of course you aren't, you're only children, what the hell am I thinking?"
"What the devil is going on here?"
My new obsession. Yeah.

e) I have an Algebra 2 quiz next period, and I'm not studying. Also, I'm in US History, and not paying attention.
f) I need to do a lot of research about astronomy, astrophysics, physics, anatomy, biology, and chemistry for The Wishmaker. At least for the next book, tentatively titled Triple Point. (update from the future: nah, that's the title of the last book) Still. I know nothing about this, cause I'm so darn stupid. Oooooohhhhh colloquialism! (Update from the future: What. what the fuck)

Anyway. So tonight for homework I have to write a list of ten sentences with pronouns. Hmm, I feel like I have déjà vu, OH RIGHT because we did this in THE FIFTH GRADE. That's g), I guess, so h) My family life isn't exactly a picnic in the rainbow pony land. For more, read some of my previous posts. UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: yeah, some bad stuff happened, but nothing TOO bad. And it's all resolved now. So don't worry.

Still, I have some good points in my life:

a) The Hunger Games is coming out in two days, and I'm going to see it! Yay! I'm so excited!
b) I did a good job, for once, on my art history tutoring this morning. We learned about Japan! Ooh! And I made the PowerPoint from scratch, by myself, and it's still awesome.
c) Walden! Yay, I love it! Finally, a book that isn't crappy! Haha. Like I think I've said before, I'm going back in time to find good books since there aren't any in this age. I kind of gave up on 45 Before '45, but that doesn't mean I'm going to plop back with Twilight or whatever.
d) It's spring and it's beautiful outside!
e) Tomorrow I'm going to the Philadelphia Museum of Art to check out the Impressionists and the Rodin  Museum and I think something about some food I can't eat because I'm a vegetarian. Whatever! Yay!

One time I made my character, Leira Frank (she's from my seventh grade novel, the one that turned into nothing), do this. Write a list of problems in her life and then good things. I did it myself in my eighth-grade diary, only I didn't write any good things, and my list of problems was 40 long. Fun fun depression time! That was a bad year. Although, it was the year I became a feminist nonconformist. I should've read the Transcendentalists then, eh?

ANYWHO, for those of you who don't care about my life, I'm going to make a list of Great Spirits from my book, The Wishmaker, while my US History teacher explains our project on Reconstruction.
This stuff is kinda interesting. So I hope you aren't bored.
Expect a song tomorrow!


1. Ash- spirit of the calm before the storm, supporter of humanity
2. Awe- spirit of music and storms, friend of Ash, supporter of humanity
3. Death- spirit of death and poetry, opponent of humanity
4. Sleep- Master of Sittphi (spirits of destruction), antagonist and greatest opponent of humanity
5. Aurora- spirit of the dawn, supporter of humanity

That's all I have so far, sorry. Yeah. Well, at least there's a song tomorrow! And at least you guys are nonexistent, so you don't care!

Your not-paying-attention, currently failing four subjects (Failing is a B), poet,
magic*esi

Monday, March 19, 2012

I Should Be Doing My Chemistry Homework

It is a lovely day outside, and in half an hour my family's going outside for pizza and ice cream. Hooray! Plus, I finished my Japan PowerPoint for tutoring the freshmen Wednesday. Ah, Japan. Check out its art, it's awesome.


Anywho, so I wrote myself a poem that started out all depressing and whatever but it turned really damn creepy and kind of funny in the way that you think you should laugh but you're afraid something's going to pop out at you with an angry face. Ya know.

Here you go. I called it "Emerson", because I started it with an Emerson quote, and it's about nonconformity and stuff, but really I should call it "My Social Contract, Just for Teenagers".
I'll talk more about the Transcendentalists after the poem, if you're interested.

UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: this is a really shitty poem, and really angsty, and just terrible. Do yourself a favor and don't read it. I'm not being modest. It really is awful. If you want to read GOOD poetry by me, go here: http://figment.com/books/507384-Post-Apocalyptic-Poetry

Emerson
“for nonconformity,
the world
whips you
with its scorn”
all the happy little children
dancing in their lit-up circles
dizzy smiles on their faces
as they spin and spin around
everybody laughing, smiling
even in the storm’s frustration
everybody dizzy
as I tumble to the ground
And break me, beat me
burn me, scratch me
cut me til my skin is raw
Just don’t ignore me
Please
Stop 
Looking
Away
I am different
that I know
Different than your silly show
Of 
“I am different, did you know?
I will wear a tie-dye bow
And that will make me special, no?”
I am color, I am light
I am dancing at midnight
I am wise for anyone
I am strong and I am young
You ignore me
You don’t know me
Guess who sees me: no one does
As you laugh
And fake uniqueness
I’m better than everyone
Oh, you dance
And break my bones
And say,
“Oh look! I am alone!
I only have
three-hundred-thousand
Facebook friends,
(all who I know),
so pity me,
don’t look at
Ariel
sitting there all alone”
And look,
you are depressed as well
With cuts all down your arms,
that’s swell!
You must be deep inside,
I can tell
By your shitty poetry
And crappy art
You must have
A real big heart.
And you’re so damn unique!
All of you
You’re all unique
It’s very true
In the exact same way
I’m proud of you
You all love the same
Hipster bands
And do your silly
Unicorn dance
And have
Five hundred Tumblr fans
You’ve written
“Seventeen whole pages”
Of your new novel
(For the AGES)
This time, this’ll be the one
You have to say
Writing’s just so fun
You can’t see why I
could be so dumb
As to not write
A novel like you
Eighty thousand words
(Maybe you’ll reach that, too)
AND LOOK!
LOOK HOW DARN SPECIAL YOU ARE!
You’ve heard of Sylvia Plath’s Bell Jar!
(you haven’t read it,
but there you are)
You’ve got witty comments about the world!
(Read them on Tumblr?
that’s absurd)
If you do something normal,
you’ve got an excuse!
So don’t you worry, guys-
IGNORE THE RECLUSE!
Ignore Ariel
and she’ll go away!
She’s just a reminder
Of how fucking boring 
your stupid “nonconformity”
is
compared to her 
genius
and her talent
and her actual
originality.
Smash her into the ground, though.
That’ll work.


There. That is really the first time I've ever cursed in a poem, besides 'damn'. Where's Waldo: damn, darn, crap, shit, fuck. Have fun, my dearie ducks! (What's wrong with me, may I ask?)
It's only to express emotion. I don't like cursing, really, no matter what impression you get from all the "fucking"s in this blog. It's because I don't get any other place to express emotion, you know? First there was the, "oh, I'm in love," deal, which was pretty much bottled up inside me for the last three years. Then there was the, "NO I HATE LOVE" deal, which is done now, mostly. Thank God. (By which I mean, I have fully realized that no, I don't hate love, but I'm certainly not IN love with anyone). Now it's the, "Dude. I exist. Hello? HELLO? Am I wearing an Invisibility Cloak? Hold on, no one reads this blog- a fucking Invisibility Cloak? Ooh, that felt good! Shit! Ahahahahaha!"
But no, I don't do that in real life.

As for the Transcendentalists: Yeah, so Emerson's cool, but he's a bit preachy, and get this: My Favorite Teacher agrees (the English teacher, if you haven't read my last ten thousand blog posts) that Thoreau is better than him. YES because Thoreau is my new obsession. Read Walden, guys. It's springtime! Best time to read Walden, in my opinion.

Anyway. Yeah, my other new obsession is A Very Potter Musical. Adore it. So much.
And of course, what's coming out in four days? THE HUNGER GAMES THAT IS RIGHT YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!

So really, why am I so mad about things? I guess it's a mood swing thing... darn, I really am in puberty, aren't I? You know, I was thinking today: Why am the only one in my family who's NOT in puberty? My dad is perpetually a teenage boy; my mom is a whiny teenage girl always in PMS; my sister is actually 13 and God do we know it. But me? No, I'm the mature adult around here, thank you.


But I can write love SO WELL. At least, I think. Mae and Aaron? (my characters in case ya didn't know) Most romantic relationship of ever. UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: lol no they're not romantic at all
 Like I said, Aaron is a tortured soul, which I didn't even realize I was doing until my mom told me about Twilight, "Yeah, tortured souls are romantic" and I was like OMG, Aaron!
No spoilers about WHY he's a tortured soul. But here's one line that made me, The AntiCupid (reference to antichrist? No? OK.) melt, and I wrote it, and I hate romance.
"He had never thought of a girl as beautiful as his music."
Oh my God squealing! That is just so romantic, me. I rock.

Anyway. Yeah, I ought to do the chemistry homework. My chem teacher is doing this cuh-razy experiment where he actually teaches us for once, but still, I think I should read the textbook.


Anyway, my sister wants me to hear a song, so more tomorrow; I DO have a poem.

Your lovely Transcendentalist poem,
magic*esi