This week:
1. Band concert Monday. I have a solo in Symphony that I tend to go out of tune on, so hopefully that goes well. Maybe if I play really, really loudly...
2. Work. Always, always work. I like my job, though, so no worries.
3. Friday is senior skip day. I'm skipping, but I have a valid excuse. I'm going up to Morris to register for classes. I also have to take math and spanish placement exams. Ick.
I think that's all. Just preparing for graduation in general.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Because I'm Sick of It
This is how I feel when people tease me about the relationship I'm in right now:
1. Really, really angry
This is why I feel angry:
1. I have every right to be in a relationship
2. Why is it anyone's business, anyway?
3. Because it's the worst feeling in the world to walk through the halls and feel like everyone's staring at you
I'm dating Charlie because I want to. I like him, he likes me, so we're going out. I realize that the age difference is a little unorthodox, but what does age matter in the end? Demi and Ashton make it work.
I know that a lot of people who tease me don't realize that it's not funny to me, or that it's embarassing, but still. I'm just sick of it. This is kind of the first real relationship I've been in, and things are awkward enough without other people adding to the heap.
This has been a rant, I know. But everyone warrants a rant now and then. Five a month is the suggested amount, I believe.
1. Really, really angry
This is why I feel angry:
1. I have every right to be in a relationship
2. Why is it anyone's business, anyway?
3. Because it's the worst feeling in the world to walk through the halls and feel like everyone's staring at you
I'm dating Charlie because I want to. I like him, he likes me, so we're going out. I realize that the age difference is a little unorthodox, but what does age matter in the end? Demi and Ashton make it work.
I know that a lot of people who tease me don't realize that it's not funny to me, or that it's embarassing, but still. I'm just sick of it. This is kind of the first real relationship I've been in, and things are awkward enough without other people adding to the heap.
This has been a rant, I know. But everyone warrants a rant now and then. Five a month is the suggested amount, I believe.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
A Gem From the AP Test
Whilst taking the AP English Lit. test today, I discovered this poem in the multiple choice section. It gave me the strength to continue, to pick up my pencil once more and struggle onward into the void of literary devices and essay questions...
The Imaginary Iceberg
By Elizabeth Bishop
We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship,
although it meant the end of travel.
Although it stood stock-still like cloudy rock
and all the sea were moving marble.
We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship;
we'd rather own this breathing plain of snow
though the ship's sails were laid upon the sea
as the snow lies undissolved upon the water.
O solemn, floating field,
are you aware an iceberg takes repose
with you, and when it wakes may pasture on your snows?
This is a scene a sailor'd give his eyes for.
The ship's ignored. The iceberg rises
and sinks again; its glassy pinnacles
correct elliptics in the sky.
This is a scene where he who treads the boards
is artlessly rhetorical. The curtain
is light enough to rise on finest ropes
that airy twists of snow provide.
The wits of these white peaks
spar with the sun. Its weight the iceberg dares
upon a shifting stage and stands and stares.
The iceberg cuts its facets from within.
Like jewelry from a grave
it saves itself perpetually and adorns
only itself, perhaps the snows
which so surprise us lying on the sea.
Good-bye, we say, good-bye, the ship steers off
where waves give in to one another's waves
and clouds run in a warmer sky.
Icebergs behoove the soul
(both being self-made from elements least visible)
to see them so: fleshed, fair, erected indivisible.
The Imaginary Iceberg
By Elizabeth Bishop
We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship,
although it meant the end of travel.
Although it stood stock-still like cloudy rock
and all the sea were moving marble.
We'd rather have the iceberg than the ship;
we'd rather own this breathing plain of snow
though the ship's sails were laid upon the sea
as the snow lies undissolved upon the water.
O solemn, floating field,
are you aware an iceberg takes repose
with you, and when it wakes may pasture on your snows?
This is a scene a sailor'd give his eyes for.
The ship's ignored. The iceberg rises
and sinks again; its glassy pinnacles
correct elliptics in the sky.
This is a scene where he who treads the boards
is artlessly rhetorical. The curtain
is light enough to rise on finest ropes
that airy twists of snow provide.
The wits of these white peaks
spar with the sun. Its weight the iceberg dares
upon a shifting stage and stands and stares.
The iceberg cuts its facets from within.
Like jewelry from a grave
it saves itself perpetually and adorns
only itself, perhaps the snows
which so surprise us lying on the sea.
Good-bye, we say, good-bye, the ship steers off
where waves give in to one another's waves
and clouds run in a warmer sky.
Icebergs behoove the soul
(both being self-made from elements least visible)
to see them so: fleshed, fair, erected indivisible.
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Meaning of Life is....
Just kidding. I have no idea yet. Well, perhaps an inkling...
HOLLY'S INKLINGS ABOUT THE MEANING OF LIFE (this list is quite spontaneous-enjoy):
1. Happiness (but only if you're happy doing nice things, like helping people or writing. If you're happy robbing banks, then maybe you should try for unhappiness.)
2. That early-morning-fresh-dewy-floral smell (go outside before seven and inhale. Then get back to me.)
3. People (people are wonderful. We're just amazing, amazing creatures. Sometimes I just look at big crowds and wish that I could know what each person's life is like, what they eat for breakfast in the morning, and what their ambitions are. It kills me that I can't know.)
4. Religion (no matter what yours is, everyone has to believe in something.)
5. Being yourself (nothing better, folks.)
6. Laughter (try it.)
7. Whatever you want. Just live.
That turned out a bit more preachy than I intended, but you get the idea. Sorry I haven't written in so long. It's been quite a big couple of weeks with state and the new term and other such momentous events.
HOLLY'S INKLINGS ABOUT THE MEANING OF LIFE (this list is quite spontaneous-enjoy):
1. Happiness (but only if you're happy doing nice things, like helping people or writing. If you're happy robbing banks, then maybe you should try for unhappiness.)
2. That early-morning-fresh-dewy-floral smell (go outside before seven and inhale. Then get back to me.)
3. People (people are wonderful. We're just amazing, amazing creatures. Sometimes I just look at big crowds and wish that I could know what each person's life is like, what they eat for breakfast in the morning, and what their ambitions are. It kills me that I can't know.)
4. Religion (no matter what yours is, everyone has to believe in something.)
5. Being yourself (nothing better, folks.)
6. Laughter (try it.)
7. Whatever you want. Just live.
That turned out a bit more preachy than I intended, but you get the idea. Sorry I haven't written in so long. It's been quite a big couple of weeks with state and the new term and other such momentous events.
Monday, April 6, 2009
The L's are silent, Mr. E.
For dinner tonight, my dad and I decided to make quesadillas. Well, he decided. By the time I made my grand entrance into the kitchen, he was already stirring a thin white liquid around in a bowl, looking puzzled.
The following conversation followed:
"Hi Dad. Need some help? I can chop the olives."
"Olives! Shoot! I forgot!"
"Hey Hol?"
"What?"
"Isn't this supposed to be thicker?"
"Um, yes."
"Okay, well, I'll add some more chicken. That should help."
"Maybe you could add flour. That's a thickener!"
"Yeah! Flour! Go get it!"
"Okay. Does that look like enough?"
"More. This stuff is really runny."
"There you go."
"I'll just start on the cheese."
"Dad?"
"What?"
"Is it supposed to look that disgusting?"
"I don't think so."
"Mom's home!"
"Quick! Hide the flour!"
Believer it or not, the quesadillas actually turned out fairly well. A little watery, though.
The following conversation followed:
"Hi Dad. Need some help? I can chop the olives."
"Olives! Shoot! I forgot!"
"Hey Hol?"
"What?"
"Isn't this supposed to be thicker?"
"Um, yes."
"Okay, well, I'll add some more chicken. That should help."
"Maybe you could add flour. That's a thickener!"
"Yeah! Flour! Go get it!"
"Okay. Does that look like enough?"
"More. This stuff is really runny."
"There you go."
"I'll just start on the cheese."
"Dad?"
"What?"
"Is it supposed to look that disgusting?"
"I don't think so."
"Mom's home!"
"Quick! Hide the flour!"
Believer it or not, the quesadillas actually turned out fairly well. A little watery, though.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Like Jack
Stream of consciousness=prepare yourself:
So I'm writing a blog right now. Someone's making a CD for me. I hope it's cool. I had a great idea for mixed CD's-one for every time of day. Morning, afternoon, and evening. Some enchanted evening! Love that song. I wish I could sing better. The lady in that movie wears really short shorts. Especially for the 40's. I thought they were more conservative back then. Did my grandma wear short shorts? Probably not. I don't think so. I just paused for a few seconds. Don't think you're supposed to do that. Just flow. Like Christine's speech. That speech made me sad. I don't like suicide. I wish the teacher had turned the notebook in. Reminds me of Freedom Writers the movie. Great movie. Hilary Swank in pearls and power suits. Love Hilary Swank. She's great in Million Dollar Baby. Like that movie, but very tense. Tense movies are fun, but tense. Duh. Wow, this is getting kind of stupid. Pretty sure I normally think a little more intelligently than this. At least, I hope so. How would I really know. It's kind of neat how our minds can make connections that no one else's can. Like different smells and colors mean something different to everyone. I just think that's amazing. You can only know another person so well, you know. Unless you can get inside their head, which you can't. Unless you're Edward Cullen. Which you're not. Why did I bring Edward Cullen into this? I'm not one of those super obsessed Twilight fans, I swear. But I just thought of him, so I typed. This is seriously really fun. My wpm is probably off the charts right now. I'm flowing. Just like Christine's speech. I said that already. Something funny-I have headphones in but my music is off. Sometimes in the car if the radio is too quiet, I automatically reach to my ears to adjust my headphones. But of course I'm not wearing any. It's the radio. That's how much I listen to my ipod. I didn't used to listen to music that much. It grew on me. I wasn't supposed to be the musical one in the family, but I guess I kind of am. I'm not that great, really. I just like it. I think I'm meant to be more of an avid audience member than a musician. And that's fine with me. I like to listen. However, with speeches, I'd rather perform. Speaking is one of the best things in the world. You're so nervous, and all of the sudden you're up there and it's FUN. You enjoy it. You're persuasive, you're passionate, you're compelling. It's the best feeling in the world.
I officially had to force myself to stop. That was really fun. Dear readers, you should try that some time.
So I'm writing a blog right now. Someone's making a CD for me. I hope it's cool. I had a great idea for mixed CD's-one for every time of day. Morning, afternoon, and evening. Some enchanted evening! Love that song. I wish I could sing better. The lady in that movie wears really short shorts. Especially for the 40's. I thought they were more conservative back then. Did my grandma wear short shorts? Probably not. I don't think so. I just paused for a few seconds. Don't think you're supposed to do that. Just flow. Like Christine's speech. That speech made me sad. I don't like suicide. I wish the teacher had turned the notebook in. Reminds me of Freedom Writers the movie. Great movie. Hilary Swank in pearls and power suits. Love Hilary Swank. She's great in Million Dollar Baby. Like that movie, but very tense. Tense movies are fun, but tense. Duh. Wow, this is getting kind of stupid. Pretty sure I normally think a little more intelligently than this. At least, I hope so. How would I really know. It's kind of neat how our minds can make connections that no one else's can. Like different smells and colors mean something different to everyone. I just think that's amazing. You can only know another person so well, you know. Unless you can get inside their head, which you can't. Unless you're Edward Cullen. Which you're not. Why did I bring Edward Cullen into this? I'm not one of those super obsessed Twilight fans, I swear. But I just thought of him, so I typed. This is seriously really fun. My wpm is probably off the charts right now. I'm flowing. Just like Christine's speech. I said that already. Something funny-I have headphones in but my music is off. Sometimes in the car if the radio is too quiet, I automatically reach to my ears to adjust my headphones. But of course I'm not wearing any. It's the radio. That's how much I listen to my ipod. I didn't used to listen to music that much. It grew on me. I wasn't supposed to be the musical one in the family, but I guess I kind of am. I'm not that great, really. I just like it. I think I'm meant to be more of an avid audience member than a musician. And that's fine with me. I like to listen. However, with speeches, I'd rather perform. Speaking is one of the best things in the world. You're so nervous, and all of the sudden you're up there and it's FUN. You enjoy it. You're persuasive, you're passionate, you're compelling. It's the best feeling in the world.
I officially had to force myself to stop. That was really fun. Dear readers, you should try that some time.
Monday, March 23, 2009
There Will Be Blood
Blood drive, part 2 was today.
Not as horrific as last time, I must say.
Okay, so the finger poke still made me want to cry, but there was no fainting.
I was on the table, and the nurse had just gotten the needle (never realized before how huge that needle is) into my arm. She then realized that no blood was coming out. Uh oh.
She called over about three nurses, and they all hovered around as she poked around inside my vein with the needle, trying to get the blood flowing. No luck.
At this point I was flat on my back with my knees up. Things were starting to spin, and a random girl came over to tell me that I was really pale.
The nurse then decided to try my other arm. She pulled the needle out of my arm, bandaged it up, and jabbed a new needle into the other arm.
Luckily, the blood came fine in my right arm.
I was fine after that. A little bit of dizziness, but that was it.
Since I had had needles in both arms, they were both stiff. I did kind of a gorilla arm swing the rest of the day.
It was worth it, though. I'm sure I talked about this last time, but I can't count how many people I know who have had, or will need blood transfusions. A little discomfort for me is more than worth their lives.
Not as horrific as last time, I must say.
Okay, so the finger poke still made me want to cry, but there was no fainting.
I was on the table, and the nurse had just gotten the needle (never realized before how huge that needle is) into my arm. She then realized that no blood was coming out. Uh oh.
She called over about three nurses, and they all hovered around as she poked around inside my vein with the needle, trying to get the blood flowing. No luck.
At this point I was flat on my back with my knees up. Things were starting to spin, and a random girl came over to tell me that I was really pale.
The nurse then decided to try my other arm. She pulled the needle out of my arm, bandaged it up, and jabbed a new needle into the other arm.
Luckily, the blood came fine in my right arm.
I was fine after that. A little bit of dizziness, but that was it.
Since I had had needles in both arms, they were both stiff. I did kind of a gorilla arm swing the rest of the day.
It was worth it, though. I'm sure I talked about this last time, but I can't count how many people I know who have had, or will need blood transfusions. A little discomfort for me is more than worth their lives.
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