Sigh…

June 22nd, 2010

Day 2 of summer.
It is nice and warm, certainly not as hot as it was yesterday.
I do not recommend today:
I do not recommend staying inside all day, and I do not recommend taking a hot shower.
I do recommend today:
I do recommend getting yourself outside for at least fifteen minutes, probably longer. Maybe get some house cleaning taken care of. Wait…what? Did I really just say that? Oops.

Today’s News:
Well, today is the second day of the babysitting/sleepover and it’s pretty much going well. There was some argument, but it was handled and everything ran smoothly from there.

Speaking of babysitting, our neighbor came to our door yesterday and said Cali wanted to know if somebody could babysit her. Well, I didn’t know if he just meant she come over for Rico, or if he wanted us to watch her. Closer to the second. So, today is also day 2 of Bekah and I babysitting the neighbor’s dog and Wilbur, their cat, for a little extra dough. This morning, since Rebekah was asleep, I did everything myself. When I went to change Cali’s water, which was outside, I found that I could not open the sliding door. I tried unlocking it, re-locking it, unlocking it again. This went on for about a minute and a half. After despairing for this impossible deed, I finally decided to just slip in and out through the doggie door. No joke. After this little adventure the job ended up done. Thank God I’m small. :)

Conclusion of blog post for second day of summer.

~~Sarah

First post of the summer

June 21st, 2010

Day 1 of summer.
IT IS VERY HOT.
I do not recommend today:
I most certainly do not recommend wearing pants today. Especially skinny jeans. Yeah, learned that the hard way.
I do recommend today:
What I would recommend is get wet and/or get in front of the fan–and don’t leave it until tomorrow morning.

Today’s news:
First of all, on Saturday there was a “city-wide” yard sale at Mrs. Fairbairn’s house. The reason “city-wide” is in quotations is because only Mrs. Fairbairn, another couple, and Dad, Mom, Bekah and I were actually selling stuff. There was a whole lot of furniture. I mean as in that was all you could see from the street, not counting the free wood. There was even a freezer being sold. Bekah and I had one-hundred-some-odd articles of clothing and accessories, most of which went back to from whence they came. Most of the money we earned was from one pair of women buying clothing for a young girl. The other tiny bit was one thing we sold to a girl in college. The adults sold a whole lot of stuff, but nobody really buys clothes at a garage sale. Oh, well. As Daddy would say, it’s money we didn’t have before.

Wow, Mrs. Wheat is right. I do use a lot of passive verbs…

Anyway, moving on to Sunday. Yesterday, we went to church in the morning, and I must say, the passage that was studied for the service was great. It was Ezekiel’s description of God and and angels, and it was absolutely perfect description-wise. There isn’t a thing left out.

In the evening, we celebrated my mom’s and Auntie Katie’s birthdays and Fathers’ Day all at once. Because Grandma is out of town, we had Papa, Auntie Katie and we Gonzalezes. Yes, that’s it. But it was very nice to have a celebration with relatives, and Auntie Katie enjoyed reading Bekah’s autobiography from writing class. :)

And today is the first day of an extended sleepover with one of Annah and Alaynah’s friends. We walked the dogs a little while ago, and as aforementioned, I was (still am) wearing skinny jeans, so it was very difficult to pull off my knee socks when we got home. Yes, sigh, knee socks. I have a feeling there will be much playing, fighting, screaming, laughing and all that jazz over the next two days.

Conclusion of blog post for the first day of summer.

~~Sarah

Hello again, desperate audience

June 18th, 2010

And I repeat:
Hello again, desperate audience.

I noticed last night that since I got on Facebook, I have been somewhat neglecting my blog. Because almost everyone I know is on there, it almost didn’t seem necessary to blog, but I couldn’t abandon this forever, could I?

No.

The answer is no.

Anyway, if nothing else, one advantage I have with blogging is that there is no character limit for a post. ‘Cause that would be stupid for a blog, that’s why.

So, first off, we finished our play. It was performed on May 13-15, and I must say, it was better than I thought it would be. Performances always are. We laughed, we cried, it moved us, Bob. Well, okay, I don’t remember any crying. Actually, I just remember a whole lot of laughing. Goofing off backstage: an activity in which everyone participated. Generally, we kind of had to be quiet (gasp!) so as soon as a song came up, we lip-synced whilst choreographing cheesy moves. Good times, good times. Among things that happened onstage: During a scene change in which I was supposed to play piano I began playing the Wedding March instead of the Funeral March (but fixed it), the kid who played Harry got his foot stuck under a couch behind the set on all three performances, a gravestone got left in the living room on the second performance, and on the last one the cash register was nowhere to be found. Oh, the joys of live performance! You never know what’s going to happen. It’s rather exciting.

On the final night, I felt very weird because 1) it was the only night we stayed very late, and 2) obviously, after that, it was over. It was quite saddening, actually, but we ended up seeing everybody again later and probably will over the summer. I suppose that was what gave me that weird feeling: that during the production of the play, everybody got to know everyone else and it seemed on the last performance that it was the end, even though we knew we would see each other at the cast party.

Our director, Amalia Dobbins, either left or is leaving to take a trip around the world, so on closing night we spoofed a song from the play called “Wonderful Places” for her. She will be missed but our new director is very good as well and I am looking forward to having him next year.

Speaking of performance, I also performed in the beginning of this month in a dance recital for the city entitled A Tribute To Dance. The number in which I performed was called All That Fosse; ours was the smallest group class, but that was actually kind of cool. My teacher is awesome and the fellow dancers are all very talented and fun to work with. I made a couple of mistakes here and there, but overall it was very good. Among the dances performed were salsa, Bollywood, hip-hop, and modern dance, to mention a few. As I have said many, many times already, I adore performing live. It’s exciting and you actually get to see your audience. ;)

As far as “regular” school goes, I am glad that it’s over. I was pleasantly surprised to find that, as opposed to my worry of getting average or below in narrative writing, both Rebekah and I got A++, 160/100 in that class! And I know for a fact that everyone in the American history class got A’s. I am sorry to say that I have not yet received my grade in physical science, and I honestly don’t know what it is, save to say I hope I did not fail…

But does summer ever really start? With all of the personal negligence on the part of we children, there is much housework to be done, and I cannot say it is the most enjoyable thing in the world. I am seeing weekends of summer cleaning in my future. Well, hopefully by the end of summer we’ll have adopted better habits.

And speaking of habits, you may or may not know that for a very long time I have had the habit of biting my nails. I’ve tried to stop it, but the longest I’ve ever stopped was probably two or three days, maybe not even that. I noticed, however, that I tend to chew them the most when I seemingly have nothing else to do (e.g. cleaning my room does not count in the mind of a typical kid. Okay, so maybe I’m not an entirely typical kid, but still). Sometimes I do it absentmindedly when listening to or watching something. Paint my nails? Nope, I usually just peel it off anyway. No-Bite? I just curl my tongue back so I don’t taste it. Hot peppers? Hmm. Haven’t tried that one…

Well, I believe that is all I have to say for now, save for this:

Goodbye and happy summer!

Nothing particularly eventful about which to write

April 21st, 2010

Title says it all, does it not?
So I guess I’ll start with something really boring. Like the weather.
Today it looks like one sky is cloudy and apparently the other half is sunny. But from my seat in the kitchen it looks to be more cloudy. It’s pretty windy outside. Too bad it couldn’t be that way yesterday; I was melting, burning to ashes and evaporating away all at the same time.
Now that the weather is done, I’ll tell you about something I just did.
I ate a piece of raw potato.
Why did I say that?
I don’t know.
That seems to happen a lot recently.
Yup.

I wish I could be outside right now. It looks comfortably cool and sort of a light gray. Not the gloomy kind of gray that comes with winter evenings, but the one like in fall afternoons. Perfect for walking in circles around the backyard.
Just saying.
Rico is asleep on the patio. I keep looking at him and thinking, “Gosh, that’s me right now.” I’m not extremely tired, but for some reason sleep seems nice at the moment.
I keep forgetting to tell you, the grass on our backyard has gotten out of hand, to say the least. The very least. So it has in the front, but Dad got that taken care of this past weekend.
But that practical shrubbery in the backyard is enough to scare the you-know-what out of anyone. And if anyone out there thinks it’s their fault, it isn’t. Period.
Anyhow, a couple of days ago Dad and Bekah got started on mowing it. They would have started earlier, but apparently we only had use of a non-electric lawn mower, which did practically nothing. But the newer one worked a lot better. At some point before that, Rebekah had begun to cut a certain patch, which took a while but since she was armed with nothing but scissors did not do as much as the lawn mower, which got through about a fifth of the grass.

p.s. Happy Birthday, Kayla, because this post was started on April 19th, even though it wasn’t posted until April 21st.

A sheet of paper (unsure of fiction or nonfiction)

April 16th, 2010

I am a blank sheet of paper,
Just lying here on the floor.
I am a blank sheet of paper,
Though soon will not be anymore.
I am a blank sheet of paper,
Used by both genius and fool.
I am a blank sheet of paper,
Who some see as only a tool.
I am a blank sheet of paper,
Waiting for something to do, and
I am a blank sheet of paper,
And that something just might come from you.
I am a blank sheet of paper
Waiting for someone to write.
I am a blank sheet of paper
Filled up with nothing but white.
I am a blank sheet of paper;
I get both crumpled and bitten.
I am a blank sheet of paper
On whom not a thing has been written.
I am a blank sheet of paper
But now am no longer quite blank, so
I am a filled sheet of paper
And I have my poet to thank.

Tryng t wrt wtht vwls s vry dffclt

April 11th, 2010

H!

Hws t gng?

Bt y cn’t vn ndrstnd wht n rth ths s sppsd t mn…

Nywy, ws thnkng th thr dy, wht wld lf b lk wtht vwls?

T’d be lk lvng nsd f txt lngg. ; b

Cn y gt m pnt yt??

Ky, s ‘ll wrt m nm wtht vwls t dmnstrt:

Srh Ncl Gnzlz.

Nw d y ndrstnd??

Prbbl nt, bt y ght t b th tm ‘m dn wth ths pst.

Th rsn ‘m dng ths s smpl bcs gt brd. Thts rght ppl. gt brd.

S thn wndrd, dn’t hv t wrt bt nythng n prtclr, jst wrt wtht vwls nd y gt yrslf pst! H yh!

O a ou i e ie ii iou ooa???…..

My Birthday (nonfiction)

April 3rd, 2010

Yesterday I got out of my bed
‘Laynah stood there shouting by the door
What on earth was all this nonsense for?
Suddenly a thought popped in my head.
If today were just a normal day
Why would she be screaming in my face?
Why in that specific, single place?
I remembered: it was my birthday.
During lunch break, we picked up my dad
Italian food from Rocco’s served as lunch
And dinner too, and when we ceased to munch
The cupcakes were the best I ever had!
So now I’m fourteen, and I wish to say
My family made this a special day.

I am so bored

March 27th, 2010

You know, I always thought it was interesting how some people only write about out-of-the-ordinary happenings. Psh, yeah, not like that’s me or anything…

Well, today I am writing about something so painfully ordinary you may not even want to read it.

Yes, I probably should have saved the warning for the end.

Now it doesn’t even matter what the heck I’m writing about.

The thing I’m writing about is the fact that I am bored, but that probably no longer matters, as I’m having a little bit of fun with this post.

My fourteenth birthday is in two weeks, but I’m not so much worried about turning fourteen as I am about starting high school.

DUNH DUNH DUNH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know. That was random.

But it was fun.

Why am I separating every other sentence, you ask? I’ll tell you the short answer, which is

I don’t know.

I guess it just looks cool.

Sigh.

Huff.

Cough.

Achoo.

MBWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

That was random, as well.

I think I should stop before this post gets completely lost following the winding trail of random.

Wow.

Gosh.

Hmm.

Huh.

What? It’s fun, okay?

Plus, it’s completely harmless, except

mabi too thah dateereorashin uv my brayne.

Nah.

The news from that limerick city
Though not abnormally pretty
And though sometimes random,
Like toads on a tandem,
Is needed, though quite itty-bitty.

“Toor rul lol loo, gammon and spinnage, the frog he wouldn’t, and high cockolorum.”–Jack Dawson (a.k.a. the Artful Dodger), Oliver Twist.

Something beautiful is about to occur.

THE END.

There it went.

First Poem of a Poet (by Me)

March 26th, 2010

For writing class, we were assigned to each write our own free verse:

This is a
Poem
That I
Wrote
Please do
Not
Blame me
For
The little
Quirks
Inside this
Poem
Because I
Never
Wrote one
Before

Song of a Stuffed Animal

March 25th, 2010

I sat upon the shelf with a bow around my neck
And I tried to sit up still, and to hold my head erect
And I looked at all the children and I tried to look my best
But if you’re a teddy bear, it is rare that you are dressed.

After months upon that shelf I began to feel quite weary
And my head began to droop, and my vision’s rather bleary
When, to my utter joy, they moved me to the front!
So I’m now a favorite toy and I’m no longer the runt.

I had caught the eyes of many, who would stop and start to buy,
But I cost a pretty penny, and the price was much too high.
So I sat inside that window for a month, and then a year,
When it just became too much and so I dropped a tiny tear.

I was put back in the stockroom, and I thought that I would stay,
When the fuzzy rabbit told me, “When it’s nearly Christmas Day,
You will be back in that window and someone will chance to buy.
For how could they resist that lovely twinkle in your eye?”

The bunny gave me courage and I waited till the winter
Even though the floor was wooden and I got a hundred splinters.
And, as Bunny said to me, I went back up on the shelf
But I had lost a lot of hope and did not hope much for myself.

But when the store clerk came and put upon me a new tag,
Sooner than I knew it I was in somebody’s bag!
It was stuffy in the sack, but I did not care at all
Even though I shared the space there with a plastic Barbie doll.

It was hot inside the trunk of the big, black shiny car
So I was grateful when the lady came and told us, “Here we are!”
We were out for just one moment when she put us in more bags,
And I thought that I was done for, so my head began to sag.

I stayed there for one night, then the morn of Christmas Day,
I peeked behind the tissue, and what ended my dismay,
Was that I was in the living room, beneath the Christmas tree!
And finally, oh, finally, someone would come for me!

I spied about four children, all of whom were daughters,
Coming out into the living room, without the mother or father.
And they all began to whisper what they thought were in the socks,
And in this bag, and in that bag, and inside that big old box.

The parents woke up later, and the girls all asked as one,
When on earth they’d open presents, when at the tree they’d run.
“First,” said Daddy, still quite sleepy, “we all have to get awake.
After all, you were the only ones who got up at daybreak.”

So after half an hour, they began to open us,
But they only did one at a time, so’s not to cause a fuss.
The second-youngest one decides, “I’ll save that one for last.”
Seeing that she spoke of me, I waited till an hour passed.

Then, to my delight, I was lifted up and dropped
Into her lap. I smiled when I landed with a ‘plop’.
She opened me and squealed and grinned, and said she’d sleep with me
So that she would not be afraid (the same thing went for me).

She loved me best but for a week, and then I lay, awaiting
On the floor, after the folks were finished with their celebrating.
I got stepped on, I got stomped on, I got trampled to the ground
Until I was buried and I couldn’t hear a sound.

Then, one day, in the summer, when the trees were bright and green,
The mother bid the children to go in their rooms and clean.
I got squished, and I got squashed, and I turned into a pancake,
And I lost a bit of fluff, and began to get a headache.

Thank goodness I don’t breathe, for I’m sure I’d have been dead
From the suffocating other toys which caused pain to my head.
I got shoved and I got pushed and then I could no longer see
And I pondered, and I wondered, “What will happen to poor me?”

Then they found me, picked me up, but then a sister came inside
And she said of me that she was shocked that I had never died,
And with that she told her mother all about what they had done
And I thought, as she related, that these things were not so fun.

Mama said that I was garbage, and to throw me in the can,
When the second youngest daughter heard about the awful plan,
And, weeping, said that she would do her best to keep me good
And she promised she’d take care of me, just as I thought she would.

But the sisters and the mother said that I was quite unfit
For the little girl to play with, so that was the end of it;
I went into the garage, with the other broken toys
And with that I said goodbye to all my happy Christmas joys.

I stayed there for a year, being eaten by the bugs
Until you could not tell the difference between me and a rug
And my eyes were falling out, and my nose no longer was,
And I became quite skinny from the loss of extra fuzz.

I tried so hard to hope, and I tried so hard to sleep
But occasionally I would simply sit in there and weep
And it seemed to be a graveyard in that cold and darkened place,
Where it appeared that one would never see a friendly face.

When the summer rolled around, and again they chanced to come,
I was sad because they did not care that I had lost a thumb,
And I wanted to call out, but because I could not talk
I simply had to sit there and lie down there like a rock.

Mama came in the garage, and I caught her tired eye
And my courage got a bolster, and my hopes were very high,
And she picked me up and brought me in and put me on a chair,
And she asked the second-youngest, “You remember your old bear?”

And I heard the little girl, and she laughed and then she yelled
And inside, I shared her joy, and my spirits were compelled
To climb into the sky, and although I had no eyes,
I was filled with joy, but a teddy rarely cries.

She picked me up and squeezed me, but I never felt as good
For she loved me as she said that, a year ago, she would.
And she kneeled and begged her mother to have me soon repaired
And, surprisingly, in trusting her, I wasn’t really scared.

They drove me to her grandma’s, and there I spent the night
And when I woke, I was surprised to see a blinding light,
And I knew that I could see, and just then the doorbell rang
And the second youngest hugged me, and then my spirits sang!

So now I am all better and I’ve lived here for three years,
And I have been made wiser for my laughter and my tears
And I still live in the bedroom, sometimes buried to the knee,
But still the child comes and says, “Come, Beary, play with me!”

(This probably could have happened, but it’s mostly fiction; I did, however, put our family and one of Adriannah’s old teddy bears in it.) : )