Life is Good

Ok, what could be better than sitting at home with all of my family. We're all doing different things, but at the same time we are all hanging out together. Obviously I'm on the computer. My mom and some of my sisters are are building a puzzle. My step dad's making dinner, and J is watching cheer leading movies. *rolls eyes*

But we are all having lots of fun talking and listening to music. I'm totally redoing my iPod and I'm having so much fun going through my old music. The stuff I was into a couple years ago is so hilarious. I mean, stuff like Nick Carter and N*SYNC. Now, I am talking about like third, maybe fourth, grade here.

So holy crap. This is perfect. I'm loving it. Earlier this week I was feeling so down. I have been missing this side of me for a while and I am so glad to have it back. It's been a long time since I have just sat down and relaxed without thinking about something that would stress me out beyond all reason.

And guess what? I am one percent away from a 4.0. Isn't that so awesome? This is the first time I've gotten straight A's in a very long time. I am so proud of myself.

Anyway I got myself sidetracked and I think I'm going to go back to my music now.

Have a good long weekend everyone!

Bleh.

Ok so I just wrote this majorly long blog venting on how crappy my weekend was, but guess what? I can't post it. Because you know what would happen then? I'd get into trouble because Izzy would read it and then show it to my mom, and guess what? It's not worth being grounded for.

But whatever.... I am so sick of being around people it's not even funny. My friends I can handle, my teachers I can handle, but right now I am so sick of being around my sisters that I just want to go sit in my room all day.

Argh! I just want to go to sleep and not wake up for another week. I want to stop being so stressed about everything I have to get done, and I want people to stop telling me that because I'm a kid my stress is nothing to theirs.

Well you know what? To me it is. I'm stressed out because of all the things I'm trying to do right now and everything I need to do, and being told by my parents that they'd trade me does not help. It just makes me feel so much worse and all I want to do is scream

I hate it when adults compare our problems to theirs. We haven't dealt with their problems yet, and I don't pretend I know what it's like to be my parents, but to me my problems are just as important as theirs because I don't know what it's like to be an adult, and frankly I don't think I want to. Why is it that when I tell my parents I'm stressed out they don't care? They care about Izzy when she's stressed. Maybe I'm just the cause of my mom's stress and because of that she doesn't want to deal with me? I don't know.

I just can't even tell you how much it sucks to have someone tell you that what you care about doesn't matter. Because no matter if they have bigger problems than me, no matter if they don't think the things that are most important to me matter at all, no matter what their dealing with that makes my problems so stupid and insignificant, it doesn't help to be told that it doesn't matter.

Because it DOES matter. It matters to me. My problems are a big deal to me, and at least I don't tell you that your problems are nothing compared to mine. I don't say that what you care about doesn't matter. Why do you get to do that to me?

Oh, that's right, because you're an adult. Because you're an adult it doesn't matter what I think compared to what you think. What I say will never be as important as what you say. When I tell you that I'm stressed you'll always be able to tell me that my stress is nothing compare to yours and that you'd trade me any day.

It's one of my biggest pet peeves when adults shrug kids problems aside because they're aren't as important as theirs.

Argh! It just makes me so mad!

Book Reviews

Holy crap! Have you ever read a book and then just wanted it to go on and on and on forever? Do you ever wish that the ending had been so different, and yet it was such a great ending? Well I just finished an amazing book, and now I'm starting the companion to it, and all I want to do is just change the book into a happy story. :P

Stargirl. My mom got it for me for Christmas. At first it was so cool and fun, and then Leo tried to change her and she changed for him and it was sad because she wasn't herself anymore. Then she wins the oratorical contest and moves?!?!? I couldn't believe it. It was so sad!

Another book I read recently was called The Thirteenth Tale. It's all about this girl who gets a letter to write a biography on the most popular author of that time. She goes ahead and decides to do it, and along the way she learns all about her own story as well. The book is full of interesting characters and intense stories. All through the book I was coming up with different scenarios, and then something would happen to make me think that there was no way my idea could happen. Towards the end of the book one of my first and most impossible ideas happened. It was so awesome the way that the author kept you guessing through the entire story.

I've been reading some pretty awesome books lately, and I've even started Pride and Prejudice. The problem with that is that I have to be in the right mood to really enjoy the story, and with the other books I've been reading I haven't really been able to sit down and really enjoy the book. So I'm hoping I'll be able to get it done in time to take the AR for it this term for English, but who knows. :P

Happy (a little early) New Year!!!!!!!!!

So we leave behind 2007 and welcome 2008 with open arms.

Today my dad came up to see me and my sisters and take us out to lunch. We were talking about this year being over soon, and he asked if we had gotten our time capsules put together. We all laughed and we knew he was joking, but I can't help but think about it. I mean, if I had put together a time capsule what would have been in it? Well there are many things I might want to consider.

And yet I can't think of anything material. There are thoughts I might want, ideas that never became more than that, things I wanted to do that never turned into a real object. Stories I wrote, or even just thought of would also be there. People I've met, conversations I've had. There are so many things that I would want to remember that I can't even remember in detail now.

Maybe if it were possible I would just want to put in the general emotion from this year. Overall I believe I just spent a lot of time thinking. I didn't put a lot into action, and I definitely didn't read as much as I thought I would.

So here's my question. What would you have put into a time capsule for 2007? What are the things from this year that you want to remember for the rest of yours lives? Or maybe even things that you don't want to think about now that you want to remember later on in life? (There you go, I could think of a lot of those) Were there books you read, people you met, conversations you had, gifts you received, stories you wrote, or anything that you might want to remember? There are so many things, and I believe that over the next week I'm going to think about those things, I'll write them down, and a week into 2008 I will post my official time capsule for 2007. I challenge anyone who reads my blog to do the same.

Happy New Year Everyone!!!!
2008 is here!!!!
Lets hope it's as great as 2007 was!!!!

Goodbye Bonanza City

The show Kid Nation aired it's season finale tonight. I've never been as sad to see a show end. Who knows when the next season will start. The controversy behind it is making it so they cannot do another season within the United States.

Every Wednesday night for the last several weeks me and my family have sat down and watched Kid Nation together. By this weeks episode I felt almost as if I knew some of the kids that were shown regularly on the show. Sophia, Laurel, Anjay, Greg, Michael, Guylan, Taylor, Mallory Olivia... All those kids were people that I would love to meet, and even though I know I never will, I feel as if I have.

I can't begin to imagine how much it must suck to leave Bonanza City knowing that there is a chance that you will never see those people you came to know so well again. These kids were so amazing. They were able to build and maintain a community without a whole lot of help at all. They were able to create themselves a organized town. They are my heroes. Sophia, Greg, Laurel, and every other kid who was in Bonanza city.

I hope that CBS will find somewhere to have another Kid Nation, because just watching the show was awesome. Just imagine how it must have felt to be part of it.

Christmas Parties

It's that time of year again. The Holidays. It's December and all around signs that Christmas is coming are beginning to appear. I'm definitely feeling the christmas spirit, and I'm so excited for the holiday to arrive. But not all years have seemed as "Christmassy" as this year has. Last year I don't think I really ever got in the spirit of Christmas. I had fun with what I was doing and all, but I never really felt Christmas. Does that make sense?

Yesterday I went to my grandma's house for our anual Christmas party. I was so excited all day because it was the first time I had seen my dad in a couple weeks, and I hadn't seen my grandma and grandpa, my aunts and uncles, or my cousins since the summer. So when everyone began to arrive at my grandma's house I said hi to them, and I talked to them. I had a lot of fun.

I love my family. My aunts, my uncles, my cousins, my grandparents, my parents and sisters. They're all awesome. I don't know what I would do without them.

Every year my family on my dad's side gets together for our Christmas party. Each of us cousins has to get a gift for one of the others, which is always decided around Thanksgiving. At this party every year we celebrate mine and Izzy's birthday. The reason for this is that it's so hard to get our whole family together at the same time more than once a month.

This year's party was so amazing. I had so much fun, and yet it was probably one of the shortest there has ever been. Me, Izzy, and my cousin (who I am going to call the Narrator, a story that I will write about later) always try to find a place where we can hide from the little kids. This year we finally realized where the perfect place was. The library. In my grandparents basement there is this room that has gone through many changes over the years. A long, long time ago it was my half sister's (Wendy Bird) room, and before ( or after) that I believe there was someone else staying there, but a few (or maybe more than that) years ago my grandpa decided to turn it into a library.

So the Narrator, Izzy, and I all went in there to talk about what had gone on with our family since Izzy and I had last seen them. It was fun. I found out a lot more about what had been going on with them than I had ever really known before. It was definitely a lot of fun.

Then when we went upstairs to open presents and stuff I realized why we always try to get away from the little kids. Even though every year we all get a little bit older it doesn't change how loud my cousins are when we are all together. It was so chaotic that a lot of us didn't even really know what was going on, but I loved it anyway.

Later on my grandma got out the punch bowl, and all of us knew what that meant. Fraupe. It's this great drink which is basically Sprite and sherbet ice cream. It's something that we always have at the christmas party, and I don't think any of us know what one of the parties would be without it.

After everyone had settled down a little bit (a very little bit) we decided to try a new game. It's called Werewolves, and I don't really have time to explain it right now, but I will later. Anyway we played that and then it was time to go. We were all sad. Another year was past, next year we will all be older and it will all be different. I can't wait.

Her name is Breezy Bear

Aren't these two just the cutest puppies you've ever seen? The first one's name is Koda. He's a lot bigger now than he was when that picture was taken, but he's still just as cute. Koda is a two year old Shiba Inu that we (my family) got two years ago.

My mom has never liked the idea of having a dog simply because of the hair and the shedding. When I was little I had always wanted a dog but I never thought that I would actually ever get one. For christmas two years ago my little sisters each got a Nintendo DS. The game they got for it was called Nintendogs. Nintendogs is an adorable game where you can buy, train, and play with dogs. Each of my sisters got a different version of it. Eventually we all decided we wanted a dog because the ones on the game were so cute.

We weren't exactly sure what breed we wanted though. We came across the Shiba Inu's on the Nintendogs game. That's when we got Koda.

Since we got him my step dad has said we need to get a little girl Shiba for him to play with. I had thought my mom would never agree. Then (just half an hour ago) my parents said they had a christmas present for us to open early. We all went into the living room and picked up the box. My two littlest sisters opened it. Inside was the second picture above. Our new puppy. She's still too young, so we won't have her for another two weeks, but we're all so excited to bring her home. Her name right now is Holly. It's cute, but we've decided on something that fits our family, and her (hopefully) a lot better.

At first we decided Bri, and for about twenty minutes that was her name, but then my mom suggested Breezy. So there she is, our Breezy Bear. I'm so excited for the day we are going to get her (the 15th) I can't wait!

So that's our Breezy. We'll get her three days before my birthday, and it will be an awesome day for everyone. We're all curious as to how she will act. Koda is a crazy dog, he loves being under the couch, he hates water, but he loves snow. He isn't a very cuddly dog, but he loves to play. Hopefully Breezy will be a sweet puppy. Actually I know she will be.

So there's my new puppy, and her name is Breezy Bear.

friend (frěnd)
n.

1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.
2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.
3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.
4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement: friends of the clean air movement.
5. Friend A member of the Society of Friends; a Quaker.

tr.v. friend·ed, friend·ing, friends Archaic
To befriend.

Can any one person really define what a friend is? For some people a friend is someone who's at their side no matter what they do. For others a friend is a kind and sincere person that likes the same kind of things they do. Some people think their friends are simply the people that they are around. To me a friend is someone who will stick with me when my decisions are right, tell me when they're wrong, and help me when I'm stuck.

It's taken me a very long time to figure out what a friend is to me. When I was little a friend was simply someone who was liked and would let me follow them around. When I started Junior High a friend became someone who shared the same interests as me, was in some of my classes, and sat with me at lunch. Now I've come to realize it doesn't matter where your friends live, when/if you see them, or whether other people like them. What matters about a friend is that they like you, you don't keep unnecessarily secrets, it's not hard to have fun with them, and, no matter what bad decisions you make, as long as you're still a good person, a good friend will still be there for you.

My friends last year were not this type of person. They didn't/don't care about my feelings about things, they get angry at me for no reason, they'd betray me the second they got a better deal, and it was so hard to just be myself around them. Sadly these people were some of the nicest people I've ever met, but I can't be friends with someone who can't say they'll be my friend even if other people think I'm weird or stupid or whatever.

Now my friends are everything that I could ask for. Sure they don't like/do the things I do all of the time, and they aren't all one tight little group either. I have friends from every single clique you could think of outside of the SBO's and the Cheerleaders. They don't make fun of me for the groups I'm in, they don't make me chose between on or the other, they don't make fun of my other friends, and even though sometimes they aren't the most popular kids at school, they aren't the ones who are ruining their lives with drugs or alcohol.

Although it's taken me a long time to decide who my real friends are I think I've finally got it figured out. My real friends are those that would help me through any situation that they didn't have to get involved in to fix. They are the people I could tell anything and even though they may judge me for it the judging would not be false. They tell me when I need to change the way I'm doing things, and they don't worry about hurting me to badly when they need to.

My friends are some of the best people I know, and even though I've decided my old friends aren't my close friends I still love them.

Next year when we all split into two schools I'm lucky to say that almost all of my close friends and most of my old friends will be going to the same school as I am. I think that we'll be friends for at least a good portion of our lives. I don't know what I'd do without them now.

Inspiration? Or lack thereof?

So I've been sitting here reading other peoples blogs for about an hour now. I have no idea what to write and so I thought I'd get inspiration from someone else's blog. So far that hasn't worked very well. I don't really know what I should blog about today, but I'm sure within the next hour I'll come up with something decent.

Within Its Pages

If there is one thing I love most about books other than their stories is the smell. You know, the smell that comes from the pages of almost every book that exists? Something about that smell makes me feel. I mean there's nothing better than picking up a book you haven't even began reading, opening it, and just smelling the pages. It's like the smell holds a story of it's own.
The story of that smell differs for every single person. Mine tells the story of a thousand characters loved and hated; it tells of songs heard, pages read, questions asked, and knowledge gained. The story tells of young girls who are lost in the woods, of people running from the most unheard of dangers. The story reminds me of the stories that I read long ago that I used to love more than life itself; the stories that get lost in the corner of my mind and can only find their way back when I'm not thinking about it.
The smell reminds me of nights I spent reading in the front yard when I was young, and summers spent pondering what will happen to your favorite character by the end of the book. It's as if the story documents every book I've ever read and what happened in my life while reading those books. It's the story of my life. The smell is my story. The smell is my life.
I know this is probably one of the weirdest things for me to say, but I'm sure there is at least one other person in this class who honestly loves the smell of books as much as I do. The smell of the page of a book is one of the most precious smells in the world. Not one thing could replace the feeling that the smell gives me. All my life I'll be able to open a book, smell the pages, and remember stories and experiences that I haven't thought about in a long time.

So there you have it. My favorite thing in the world lies within the pages of almost any book you open. :)

The Most Random Ramblings Ever

It's finally here. The end of the first quarter of my last year at Fairfield Junior High. I don't know what I was really expectng it to be at first, but this was not it. I wasn't expecting to be this busy this year. I wasn't planning to be having so much fun that I hate going home everyday. I did not expect to be hanging out with a whole new group of people and almost never speaking to those people I have been friends with since my very first day at our beloved school. There is nothing more surprising than finding out that the people who you've been closest too for the longest time are not the people you really want to be around.

Everything is changing now. Everything I've known about being a student at Fairfield since before I even started going to school here has been changing. All my classes are harder, and I'm actually finding that I need help understanding things. This has never happened to me before. In the past I always understood what was going on in class.

My friends have been changing even more than my classes and expectations have. My best friend, who will be known as Panduck for this entry, who I met during HP summer camp before seventh grade isn't my best friends anymore. I'm sad to say that she's not really my friend at all. We talk to each other sometimes and I see her at lunch and everywhere else, but we don't hang out anymore, we don't write notes to each other, and the story we started writing over a year ago is now over. It's incomplete, but we're done writing it. The thing about the whole situation is that I don't mind. My friends now are people that I wish I'd been hanging out with all along. They don't fight as much, and they don't cause as much drama as my old friends did. Don't get me wrong I love all my friends. It's just so much easier to hang out with people who don't cause much drama.

As well as things that have been going on at home lately there are a lot of things going on at home. I've been spending a lot of time with my family on my mom's side lately. The Thomases are great people, but like any other family they have their issues. When your with them it's always a different experience. Their are always so many people at my grandmothers house. The house is never lonely, and its chaos is my favorite thing about going there.

My Grandpa and Grandma Thomases' house is the best place in the world to me. It's the only house that I've ever been in that almost always remains the same. Every christmas they put out their little ceramic village and the big lighted trees. When you go inside you almost always hear the chatter of people and you're always warmly welcomed. I always go straight to my grandma and hug her. There is not a single person that makes me as happy as my grandma does. I've been at least a foot taller than her for years now, and my little sister are almost reaching that mark as well. My grandpa is a very great man. His smile is so great that when I see it I can't help but smile too. There is nothing that I love more than being at my grandma's house.

Wow. I've really gotten off topic here. Haha.

Well since this blog has turned into more of a collection of a bunch of random thoughts I think I'll continue.

I had a friend when I lived in Salt Lake whose name was Jessica. I called her Jess, because Jessica seemed like more of a girly type name than Jess did. Jess was definitely a tom boy. The only one I had ever known back then. Jess' favorite thing in the world was playing soccer. I hated it but I played it with her anyway because I knew that it was something that she liked to do. Hers was a friendship I will never forget. Jess was a very confident and intimidating girl. She was always up to something, and half the time it was daring other kids to go into the "men's room" or the "ladies' room" which was what the teachers called their bathrooms which kids weren't allowed to go in. No one ever did except for a few, and usually those kids pretended they hadn't. Or so I heard.

I can't tell you how often I think about Jessica and what type of person she is now. Through-out the years I've seen a lot of my old friends from when I lived near Salt Lake, in Sandy. I've seen so many of them that it's not even funny, and when I do see them I love to see how different they are from what I remember. I haven't seen any of them in a couple of years now, and I wish I had. I like to think that they remember me as I remember them, but I don't think very many of them do. I think many of them would hate my guts now if we still knew each other, because as alike as we were then I'm sure we're all very different now. Even saying that I'd love to see some of them again.

Lately I've been thinking about a lot of different things as you can see by this very unorganized blog. I've been thinking about next year and what high school I'll go to. I have two possible options open right now. One says I go to Fremont High school out in Plain City and get car privileges along with Izzi. Another says I go to Layton High school and walk everyday. I'm not sure which school I want to go to yet, because both are really great. Both schools' art programs are decent from what I've heard, but I'm not interested in art. I've heard very little of anything else about either school, but I do know that Layton's orchestra is really small. I'm not sure if I'd like being part of a really small orchestra.

I've also been thinking about pets lately. My cousin had to sell her dog on Saturday and it tore her apart to do so. Both mine and her dog are great pets, and both of them are somewhat of a nuisance sometimes. The dogs' barks are both incredibly loud for their sizes. My cousins dog is large, and mine is small. Both are pretty loud and not like very much by neighbors. When my cousin had to sell her dog it made me incredibly sad because I thought about how I'd feel if I lost my dog, Koda. I don't know what my cousin will do without her dog. They've practically grown up together.

So there's been a lot on my mind lately and that's just a little bit of it. I've also been thinking about writing a children's book/story. I'm not sure if I will or not, but I've come up with some great ideas about story lines for it. I don't know. I've gotten a lot of ideas for things I can write and I've never really finished any of them.

Well I've spent enough time writing this now I'm going to go get working on this terms assignments.

Country Love For Lily

Wow, what a long weekend I’ve had. I can’t believe I don’t have to go to school in the morning. Nope. Tomorrow I get to sit around the house and relax, or at least that’s what I want to do. I am so tired right now. I’ve spent the last three days working on the benefit concert for my cousin Lily. The concert was yesterday, but today we had to go and clean everything up. It was stressful, and I am really worn out, but we did some great things for a great little girl and I believe that Lily and her family will be doing a little better after all of this.

I doubt anyone who reads this knows of a guy named Brenn Hill. He’s a country singer. He was the one who did the concert for my cousin and I have to say he is a great guy. His songs are amazing, though I think they’re a lot better in person because of the sound of his guitar. I’ve been listening to his songs all day, but it isn’t because they’re my favorite songs in the world or anything. The reason I keep listening to Brenn’s music is because it reminds me of the precious day I had yesterday. The best part of the whole thing was seeing me entire family get together to make it possible. People I haven’t seen in months were there, and the whole thing just made me wonder how the world could give a disease like Leukemia to a 3 year old little girl.

At the end of the concert, as Brenn was finishing his encore, Lily came up onto the stage and started walking around. I don’t think he even noticed she was there. Everyone started clapping and cheering and Lily started to bow. This made the crowd get louder and it was just so cute to see my cousin up on the stage bowing to an audience while Brenn smiled at the crowd. “One last song for Lily.” He said. Lily then ran to the other side of the stage to the basket of apples that was part of the décor. She picked one up and, with her head down, ran towards Brenn. She handed him the apple, went to get off the stage, and then decided to hug him.

The whole thing was so sweet I couldn’t believe she came up with it herself. Later we asked my two aunts, Lily’s mom and my mom’s oldest sister, if they had told her to do that. “No,” My aunt Missy (Lily’s mom) said. None of us could believe how cute it was that she came up with it on her own.

Last night was a night I will always remember for the rest of my life. Even though there were times I just wanted to throw things at people, times I felt like I wanted to scream, most of the night I felt something I had never really felt before. I don’t know for sure what it was. Something between love, amazement, joy and generosity. It’s difficult to explain. Lily has shown me that it doesn’t matter what kind of hardships you have to go through, there is no excuse not to be kind to people. Sometimes you get frustrated and get angry, but it’s the times that you show how kind and generous you can be that really count.

We all love you Lily girl. Stay strong. You are definitely a fighter. With all of us, your family, by your side you can do anything!

Good Intentions Bad Results

Ok, so right now I feel like throwing myself off of a building. Reason being? I just went through an hour long lecture about how much my essay sucked because of it's negativity. Then I sat through another twenty minutes of being told how I need to fix it, and now I need to re-write my second draft, get it checked, and then write my final draft.

I am never doing a paper on someone in my family again.

Someone remind me of this next time we are given an assignment on a person.

Thanks!

Now I'm going to go complete this essay (which I was excited about and am now thinking that it is no longer my work), and then I'm going to go up to my room and try to read at least fifty pages of Monte Cristo which is what I will have to do every night if I want to get the points for AR this term.

Damn, and today was supposed to be a really good day.

I'm an idiot for thinking that.

No day is a really good day in the house of the Turek's (my step dad's last name).

Edit (12-11-07)- Wow. I am a brat. One bad day and I say something like that. ^
Am I really that bad of a person? I didn't think so, but now I'm not so sure. Do I say things like that when I'm angry? I guess I really am like that. :(

The Magic Sisters

This is the beginning to a story I wrote the other day. I'll tell you about the inspiration for this story another time, but for now tell me what you think ok?

Once there were six young witches. They were all sisters and each of them had a special gift. Athena, named after the Greek goddess of war and wisdom, held the knowledge of the ages. She was the oldest, wisest, and the cleverest of the sisters. Athena had a temper, and everyone knew not to cross her, because when she was angry she destroyed everything in her path, and though she would be sorry for it later she didn’t seem to care who she hurt in her rage.

Next was Izabell. Izabell was known for her ability to blend in with mortals. Everything about her was overlooked by other witches. That is everything except her long curly blond hair. Her hair was envied by all, and because Izabell didn’t like the attention she got from it she often would do her hair in strange ways that she thought others wouldn’t like. Izabell had a quick temper, but she could easily manipulate any mortal she came across.

Izabell and Athena were twins. Their personalities were those of the sun and the moon. Izabell was an artist; creative and talented, though she hated to admit the true beauty of her creations. Athena was a scholar; constantly trying to learn and teach her sisters of the dangers of the world they lived in. Izabell and Athena had been best friends when they were young. Nothing and no one could break them apart, but eventually Athena realized that Izabell manipulated her as much as she did mortals. Athena dealt with it for a while before deciding it wasn’t worth it. Now Izabell and Athena can’t even be in the same room without fighting.

After the twins came Amelia. Although she was one of the older witches, Amelia was the very core of mortal innocence. She thrived on the hopes and dreams of everyone around her, and she almost always preferred ignorance over knowledge. Amelia was known for her smile. One glance at her and you couldn’t help but realize how truly beautiful she was. She denied it of course, but her long beautiful red hair, her green eyes, her long legs, and her graceful posture created one of the most beautiful witches any of the sisters had ever met. Amelia, though beautiful and very much a “girly girl” as mortals would call her, hated men. She teased them and was mean to them almost as if she was one of them. This caused a lot of trouble for the sisters, but they didn’t mind. One day Amelia would get past that.

The first of the three younger witches was Grace. Her name was an oxymoron in itself. Grace spillled everything she touched, and often even things she didn’t. Grace held the gift of surprise. The young girl didn’t live with, or even near, her sisters, and tended to pop in whenever she wished always surprising the others. The six sisters were only ever truly happy when they were all together. Grace took advantage of this, and even though Athena hated how she used her sisters they always anxiously awaited for Grace to return.

The youngest two witches were also twins. Kristen and Krista were about as alike as they could be. They had the gift of emotion. Every emotion the two young girls had was extreme, and sometimes fatal to mortals. They looked so alike that they both were assigned colors they could wear so that the others could tell them apart. Kristen and Krista loved confusing their siblings and so they would often switch just to make Athena angry, which would make Izabell angry and so on.

Together the six girls lived in a world of mystery. Light years away from earth they controlled the mortals of a different world. This world was like earth only because of the humans. There were no concrete buildings, streets, or man made bodies of water. Everything was created by nature for the most part, and most humans were fine with this. Until the warlock named Xero came along and told them of the mortals of earth. Xero told them all the wonders of the earthling’s buildings, technology, and clothing, and suddenly there was a huge group of people that wanted to use these new discoveries to change their world. Xero led these humans and started wars. The battles killed millions, and not only humans were harmed by the sudden revolt. The sisters knew their world was falling apart, but they were too young to do anything about it, and so they sat at the sidelines and watched as everything they had known slowly disappeared.

This is just the prologue. I don't really know what to call this yet, or whether or not I will even continue it. Give me your ideas, tell me whether or not it's any good, and in return I'll read your blogs. How about that?

Change

If there is one thing that makes me write more than anything else it's change. A lot of my stories focus on a change in my characters' lives, whether it be a big change or a small change, but I've never had a whole lot of change to write about in my own life. I am definitely afraid of change. I don't like things being different than they were before, and I absolutely hate seeing people I've come to know very well leave, and so usually when something changes I just quit. I get up and leave whatever it is that has changed.
Every year since I started Jr. High I've taken part in our school's MESA club. It was the place where I totally and completely let go. I'd be goofy and I'd be crazy, and no one seemed to mind. It was a blast, and one of the best experiences of my life. I thought for sure that my last year of Jr. High would be no different where MESA was concerned. I was wrong.
Within the first few weeks of school me and all my friends who were in MESA knew that this year was going to be different. The MESA "teachers" I guess is the only word I can think of, had always been the same two teachers I had known since I was in their classes in seventh grade. They are some of my favorite teachers in the school, and I couldn't imagine what MESA would be without them. At least, I couldn't imagine what it would be without either of them until Tuesday.
I missed the first MESA meeting this year, but everyone said it was fun, and everyone was mad at me for not showing up. I laughed it off, but I got enough courage to go to the next meeting even though I was afraid of how different it would be.
The reason MESA is so different this year is because one of the two teachers that have been in charge of it since I first came to join the club is no longer in charge. Instead the new Math teacher is. To many ninth graders at the school this new math teacher means nothing of consequence. They'll never be in any of her classes, and they'll never actually meet her at all, but I've known this teacher for years. She was Izzi's sixth grade teacher, and I've never had a tremendous liking for her. She's alright, but I've noticed that she's too strict, and she acts almost as if she doesn't like kids.
Then I think of MESA last year and the year before. There were so many things I did in that club, so many traditions, jokes, etc. that me and my friends came up with that we won't ever really get to do again.I won't get to throw things at my friends, and they can't throw things at me, and all in all it just won't be MESA to me. It'll be like another class, and I don't want that. I don't want MESA to make me miserable. I want the quality, the fun, of MESA back. I don't want us to have a club council, and there shouldn't be a strict list of rules, and you shouldn't have to keep good grades just to come to a meeting. I think that we should be able to come because we want to, we should be able to talk and walk around the room and hang out, because that's what MESA always was to me. But it isn't anymore.
I know I can't do anything about it, and I know that quitting because of this minor set back may show that I'm not as great of a person as I like to think, but I just can't do it. I fear that if I do decide to go to MESA every 2nd and 4th tuesday of the month then I will be taking the memories I've made over the last two years and covering them, hiding them, behind the memories of misery and boredom that I am sure I will face if I do MESA this year. I don't want that to happen, and so I'm not going to MESA this year. I know I'll miss it, but I won't be missing MESA really. I'll be missing the people and the things that we did in the past. That was not wholly MESA. MESA was just what brought those people together.
On top of MESA changing there's also Science Olympiad. I have been on the team two years in a row now, and last year I won a medal at Nationals, but I'm not sure if I'll get to do that this year. I want a fair and equal chance, and I'm just not sure I'm going to be given that. Yesterday there was a meeting for all those interested in trying out for the team, and during that meeting we were told what the requirements were and how we needed to fill out the forms, but we were also told that we wouldn't even be considered on the team unless we had someone who would be willing to coach one of the 26 events. I don't have that. I'm the only person really interested in science in my family, my family doesn't have a huge number of friends, and I don't know very many people outside of school.
The things I've done all through Jr. High are almost over for me. MESA's gone, I might not be able to do Science Olympiad, and then what do I have left? I have my friends, but I am not really the kind of person that hangs out with her friends every friday night. I have school, and I love school. I thrive on school, but that isn't enough. I need something fun. Something that catches my interests. I need a place where I have friends. I need something to stay completely and totally the same. I can't stand change.
I guess I just need to learn now that everything is going to change. This year will end, and I won't be in Junior High anymore. There will be no MESA for me, and only if I'm lucky will I be able to do Science Olympiad. My friends will change, and I will get new ones. Everything is going to change eventually. I just wish it wouldn't.

Decision

So I have come to a decision about my short story. I am definitely going to continue it, but to do so I need you all to just pretend the last part doesn't happen. You know, the part where the dream comes true, kinda. Well that's the part you're going to ignore. The dream is where it ends, and if it would help for me to do so I am probably going to re-post it, edit it, and take off the part that we are going to get rid of for the story.

I hope you guys all read it, because I have a general idea of how it's going to be, and I think it'll be good.

Laughs of the Past

So, I was looking through all my old word documents today, and I found this old Science assignment I did in Mrs. Nelson's class last year. I thought it would be fun to remind the people who I did this with about it. So, if you want take the time to read it, but if not it's ok.

This is for Purple Cows and Marie Degarimore. Good times guys. Good times.

“Ok, now these islands here are the ‘I Know Islands’. Can anyone tell me what is so special about these islands?” Mrs. Jones asked pointing to a place on the map. In the classroom small kids ruffled around small desks, but not a single hand rose. “Come on, I know you all know this. How about you Jesse?” Mrs. Jones suggested after a minute. Smiling and pointing to one of the smallest girls in the class.

“Uhm…” the little girl started trying to think “Well, they’re islands somewhere in the ocean.” The entire class began to laugh at her.

“Now, class. We all know that it is wrong to laugh at someone when they don’t know an answer.” Mrs. Jones scolded, and the children all stopped laughing immediately. “Now Jesse, there is something else about these islands. They all have special houses on them. What kind of houses are these?” Now several hands rose, and Jesse didn’t even try to answer the question.

“Ok, how about you Lauren?” Mrs. Jones said pointing to the girl sitting in the front row of the class. Everyone knew Lauren was the smartest in the class, and probably the smartest in the entire fourth grade.

“Well the ‘I know Islands’ are a group of islands that each have large, active volcanoes on them. There’s Glucosia, Turtleania, Einsteinia, Beef Jerkia, and Candy Cania. The islands were founded by a group of five geologists. Sage Madsen, Heather Gurr, Mary Lauren Harris, Madison Randquist, and Jessica Correle” Lauren said. “Each of the volcanoes has a house on it. Volcano houses. They were one of the first people in the world to build these houses, and they were made rich for it, except they already were rich.”

“Good Lauren.” Mrs. Jones encouraged, “Today we are going to talk about one of those islands, and one of the founders, and their volcano house. The island of Beef Jerkia is one of the ‘I Know Islands’ and it was founded by Madison Randquist in 2017.”

“That’s a long time ago.” One of the boys in the class said.

“You’ll learn soon enough that fifty years is not that long.” Mrs. Jones said to the boy before continuing, “Madison Randquist wrote a book about her house, and her island. Today I am going to show you some pictures and read you a few passages from her book, and tomorrow we are going to have a quiz on it, so you better pay attention.”

Most of the class got out paper and a pencil to take notes, but one girl raised her hand. “Yes Jessica?”

“Do we need to take notes?” she questioned. Jessica asked questions about everything, but because of it she got a pretty good grade.

“Well you should decide that for yourself. If you think you can do good on the quiz tomorrow without notes, then don’t take notes, but if you think you’ll need to study tonight, then take notes.” Mrs. Jones smiled at Jessica.

Jessica got her notebook out and turned to her section for science while everyone else waited for Mrs. Jones to begin.

“Ok, let’s begin with her explanation of why she built the house. Ok?” Mrs. Jones asked.

Some people in the class nodded, including Heather who sat in the front row near Jessica and Lauren.

“Well, many people have asked me why I built a house on the side of a volcano, and many people have told me I’m crazy, and that I’m going to die in this house, but I don’t really believe I will. I’ve designed this house with the dangers in mind, and I hope that I can show the world just how safe a volcano house is.” Mrs. Jones began reading. “When I first began plans for my house someone told me I needed a name for it, and so I started searching for the perfect name…

Eventually I came up with ‘La Casa Vulano’, Italian for “the volcano house”. People asked me if the name was significant, and when I told them it wasn’t, that I had just used a translator to find a name that sounded right, most of them were disappointed. The name really had nothing to do with the project, except that it said what it was in a different language.

One of my friends told me they thought it represented that I wanted to learn new things. They said that by choosing a name in a language I didn’t speak I was saying that I was open to learning new things, and also that I accepted different cultures, and different ways of living. I don’t think it was that complicated. I just thought it sounded fun.

So that’s how my house got its name. La Casa Vulano took two years to design and another three to build. It was a good design, but it was a lot harder to build than necessary. I think that if I had spent more time planning the construction it might have worked better, but I didn’t. I’ve never been very organized.

I built La Casa Vulano because when my Uncle Mario (who I never actually met, and barely knew existed) died he let me more money than I could ever count, more specifically $50,000,000,000,000,000,000. The reason I had never met Uncle Mario was because he was CRAZY! Not just hear voices in your head crazy, but imagine purple flying cows in your bathtub crazy.

My uncle said that the only way for me to collect the money was for me to build a house that touched in some way, the side, and I’ll bet you won’t be able to guess… of and active volcano.

It surprised me to find out that a few of my friends also had recently deceased uncles, and so got together and went to buyanunchartedisland.com. We called them the I know Islands because when we were in Mrs. Nelson’s science class ten years before we had been really hyper one day. We all were trying to get Sage to stop saying I know. So when we all found out that we were supposed to build volcano houses we decided to build them together.

That’s how we founded the ‘I know Islands’.”

The class had mostly been paying good attention so far. They had all heard about the ‘I Know Islands’, La Casa Vulano, and the other volcano houses there, but they hadn’t ever heard about why they built the volcano houses. The story about the crazy uncles was almost to crazy for them to believe.

“That’s not true.” Catherine blurted out while taking notes “They didn’t have crazy uncles who gave them the money. They won it in the lottery. I researched it.” Catherine lied. She had not researched it, but she had heard it from someone that she believed. Catherine was a liar, but she was nice, and she was pretty smart. Though, there was no way she was smarter than Lauren.

“It’s true Catherine. Madison wrote it herself. Why would she lie?” Mrs. Jones asked looking at Catherine sincerely. She really wanted to know why Catherine thought that Madison had lied in her own book.

Catherine didn’t answer but instead let Mrs. Jones continue.

“Ok, now I’m going to show you a picture of the front of La Casa Vulano.” Mrs. Jones said closing the book and looking for the picture on her desk.

She pulled it out from a stack of papers and held it up. “This is La Casa Vulano from the main entrance.” She handed the picture to Lauren “I’m going to pass it around. Be careful, and don’t write on it.” She said looking mainly towards the boys in the class.

“Ok, now class I am going to read you a description of La Casa Vulano. This is not from her book, but from a book one of her friends wrote describing all of the houses.” Mrs. Jones picked up a new book and began to read. “La Casa Vulano is located on Beef Jerkia and encloses a large volcano known as Montagna Vulano, Italian for Mountain Volcano.” Mrs. Jones said. She picked up another picture off her desk and showed it to them. It was a map of the island.

Mrs. Jones put the map down and continued reading “The house is shaped like a triangle and goes all the way around the volcano. There are towers at each corner, and each one has a dome on top that is in overlapping sections…

Miss Randquist was heard saying once that this was one of her safety precautions. She said that she has a team of volcanologists living with her that help her determine when the volcano will erupt, and when there is an alert they domes will flatten out into a shield. These domes are made out of a bendable form of concrete that Madison created called Incurvo Silicas.

This concrete can stand outstanding heat, and can be bent into a different shape. Some people have said that this would be unreliable because it would bend while it was supposed to be shielding the house, but it isn’t. Once it is bent into the desired position it stays that way.

The three long hallways that connect these towers unhinge at the center and then slide into each of the towers so that they are shielded during an eruption.

Just in case the shields fail there is a button in the volcanologists’ quarters that makes the shield drop half of the overlapping sections and create propellers to lift the three sections of the house into the sky and to the nearest open runway.
The house has eight levels above ground, a basement, and the containment level that is used if all else fails. Each level contains twelve rooms, except for the containment level which has an extra room for food storage. Total (excluding the containment level) there are eighty-five rooms in the house. There are fifty five bedrooms, ten public bathrooms, seven kitchens, and twenty-four other rooms.

The basement level is for the volcanologists. The ground level is for the maids and chefs, the second floor is for Madison, the third through the seventh floors are rented out vacationers and such, and the eighth floor is for visiting friends and family.

The containment floor was designed just in case her other escape plan fails. The containment floor has ten bedrooms, three bathrooms, one recreation room, and one kitchen. It is so far underground that the heat from the volcano can be felt, if you were outside of the room.

The walls of the room are made out of palmarius-estus, which means outstanding heat in Latin. Palmarius-estus is a material that is like a metal, except its melting point is so high no one has ever discovered it.

To get into the room you have to put on a protective suit that will deflect most of the heat so that it isn’t hot enough to burn you. The door to the floor is always left open unless they have to use the room, because once you close the door it is sealed by the heat.

The way this works is that once they are inside the room there is a button next to the door that closes the door and releases a substance called superseal that sticks better than any other substance when heated to extreme temperatures.

Once in the room they sit there for a few days until they are sure it’s safe to leave. Then they call someone on one of the other islands to come down to the room and press the release button on the outside of the door.

So La Casa Vulano is a pretty safe house considering it’s that close to a volcano, don’t you think?” Mrs. Jones asked her class shutting the book and holding it in her right hand.

“I know!” Jesse exclaimed making Jessica, Lauren, Heather, and Catherine laugh. The rest of the class looked at them strangely; they couldn’t see what was so funny.

Mrs. Jones laughed at the five girls. “Ok, we’re going to talk about one more part of La Casa Vulano before we move onto math. I sent Madison a letter when I was first learning about her volcano house, and I asked her how she designed it. I’m going to read you what she wrote back to me, and then we’ll move on. Ok?”

The class nodded, and Heather, Jesse, Jessica, Lauren, and Catherine sat forward in their seats. They had really gotten into this.

“Dear Amy,” Mrs. Jones began, and some of the class laughed. “What, are teachers not aloud to have first names?” she asked her class and then continued “I have thought about how to answer this letter for a couple days now…

I must tell you I did not design La Casa Vulano by myself; in fact, I had so many people help me. I can’t hardly call it mine, other than that I own it. Other people have asked me this question before, and I must say I never really cared about the answer. “Oh, it took time, and a lot of hard thinking.” I used to say, but now I think I will answer like this:

“La Casa Vulano was not in the least my design. I had help from geologists, volcanologists, one of my eighth grade science teachers. (Mrs. Nelson, she’s the best teacher I ever had.), my friends, and many others.

We came up with the materials we were going to use by testing them in extreme temperatures. Most of the house is built of plain concrete, the only things that aren’t are the containment level, and the shields.

From the bottom of each of the towers there is a thick palmarius-estus pole that goes four miles under ground to make sure that lahars don’t cause the house to slide away from the volcano, and during construction we went over the walls so many times to make sure that there was no way the lava would get in and ruin everything inside the house.

So we spent two years designing it to avoid almost every possible disaster. Then we spent three years making sure there were no faults in our design. The problem with taking so long to build it was that every time there was an eruption we had to fix everything that got messed up during the process of the eruption.

I’ve lived through plenty of eruptions in this house, and I hope to live through many more in my lifetime.”

I hope this answered you question Amy. I know it definitely got me thinking. I’m glad to know that some people are interested in how we made La Casa Vulano instead of just why we made it.

Thanks,

Madison Randquist

So there you go. That is how they designed La Casa Vulano.” Mrs. Jones said right as the recess bell rang. “Ok, go to recess.” She laughed as her class all began to get out of their seats and head for the door, “But as soon as you get back it’s time for that math test!” she called after them hearing several of them moan at the thought of a test.

Idea

Ok, so I have so many ideas for stories lately that it isn't even funny, and the problem with this is that I don't have any time to write my stories. So I was just wondering if anyone would possibly want to write collaboratively with me. Kind of like how The Pigman is. We'd each have one main character and the chapters could switch off between the characters....

Just an idea. But if you're at all interested leave me a comment ok? Then we can start brainstorming and what not.

THANKS!

Continue?

Did anyone take the time to read my short story? If you haven't could you please? Pretty please with a cherry on top? Because I'm thinking I want to write more about Griffin, the main character, and I want some advice about how I should do that.
So if you have the time and the patience PLEASE read the post titled Try to Remember. I really want to know what everyone thinks about it, and I hope that I can get some input about a new story involving Griffin, Andy, and possibly Griffin's little sister. I don't know what it would be about though, or even what genre, so after you read it please post a comment either here or on the other post about what you think I should do to continue.


Thanks!

Poems

The Whisper of the Wind

The whisper of the wind,

Telling me a secret.

A secret too dark,

Too lonely for you.

The whisper of the wind,

Grabs my attention.

Tells me a secret,

That no one else can hear.

The whisper of the wind,

My only protection.

Tells me a secret,

A secret all my own.

The whisper of the wind,

Tells me a secret.

A secret I hold dear,

Fore I am all alone.

I Sit Here Crying

Watching closely,

From the outside.

So much to do,

So much to hide.

To think that I,

Was one of them.

To think that I,

Could hurt my friends.

Don’t want to hurt.

Don’t want to hide.

Don’t want to look

Down from the sky.

So all alone,

I sit here watching.

I sit here hiding.

I sit here crying.

Drenched in Sorrow

I feel it as it runs down my face.

I hear it as it falls to the ground.

I see it as I hold my hands to my face.

I realize after it’s too late,

This was not the right answer,

This should not have been my fate.

These are a bunch of my poems from when I was in Creative writing last year as well. I didn't turn any of these in, but I love these ones more than the ones I did turn in. So tell me what you think ok?