Whee for boredness in first period when most of the class poofed to go listen to some CSI dude for Career Day.
Mrs. B gave us the choice to go listen to the speakers in other rooms or to hang around in the room and amuse ourselves, and since we were feeling lazy here we are. XD
By all rights I should be using this time to work on the bibliography or the big two-day review thinger, but I'm a lazyass. And I've been looking at pictures of my demented sister and her roomate modeling granny panties and little pink thongs.
And I'm running out of things to say, besides this: NO MORE CAFFINE FOR DAVID!
4.24.2008
4.21.2008
DO NOT WANT!
There's a reason I am such a rabid Huss fan and why I'm completely anti-Askbrook. And the reason's name is Grier middle school. I can't begin to describe how much I hated, how much I absolutely despised, that place. How much I wanted to bomb it or set it on fire or go on a rampage with a .50-caliber rifle. How utterly insane I would be if I had to stay there, or to go where the people who gave me such grief are currently going.
You peeps who know me from Huss: the happy-go-lucky, laid back me you know now is very different from what I was like at Grier.
I hated that place so much. What I felt throughout the time I went there was nothing but deep, smoldering, helpless rage, frustration, and utter hatred. I can't even form words to articulate how much I did NOT like that school. It was all the students, too. It was them who turned me against it. Otherwise, I would've been fine.
Imagine the normal behavior of the average Huss student, and magnify all the stupid, irritating, disrespectful, destructive, and whatever other negative aspects you can think of by tenfold. Those are the sort of people I dealt with at Grier.
Now, once I moved to Huss, I escaped the vast majority of those people, thanks to IB. So in the last two or three years, I've been able to relax and not have to deal with it. But the Chemistry class I'm taking is bringing up all the unpleasant memories, and it's not doing me much good.
This one group of arseholes who sit right in front of me are loud, disrespectful to the point that they openly mock the teacher, disruptive, and everything else I despised about the Grier students. The class is easy enough that I get done early, and am left with absolutely nothing to do but sit there and brood over how much I'd like to murder them all in the most gruesome manner I can imagine. That's what happened at Grier too: I got done and was left with nothing but to sit and brood.
Flashbacks of Grier are not good for my sanity, and for the personal safety of everyone around me.
In Grier, I was in my own little nutshell. I spoke to the others as little as humanly possible, I did my work and stuck my nose in a book. Even that didn't work half the time, since the teachers disliked me getting into my books in an effort to keep my sanity at a borderline normal level. I had to deal with these people every single day, starting the moment I walked into the building and ending when I crossed the street into the parking lot. Every day, the same torture.
And for most of my time at Grier, I had no friends. I knew that not only would none of the people there want to be friends with the little antisocial midget who snaps every time you say something in her general direction, but that I had so little in common with the vast majority of Grier students that I might as well have been another species. I hated every single one of them about as fiercely as you can hate any living thing, and I even if I was on the other side of the universe I would still be too close to them. So it was mutual hatred that kept me in my little bubble.
If I had stayed like that through the whole three years, I'd be a very different individual. But in the beginning of my eighth grade year, my two friends Kelsey and Tanis took me under their wings. No, they aren't even friends. They're more like my sisters in spirit. Look at me, I'm getting choked up just writing about it.
Really, those two helped keep me sane. If it hadn't been for them, I would've gone through a whole other year of sitting there hunched in my desk plotting homicide and knowing that all I can do is glare at the backs of their heads. Kelsey and Tanis pulled me from my abyss, from the little niche I had carved from the walls of the hellhole for myself, and brought me back from the brink. They were the ones I could talk to once I'd finished my work to ward off the hours of useless brooding, the ones I could confide in when it just got to be too much, the ones who held me back when I almost started a fight in P.E.
Yeah, I did almost start a fight. You peeps who know me from Huss know that usually I'm the last one you'd think of starting a fight, but this one little bitch just rubbed me completely the wrong way and I got sick and tired of putting up with it. Kelsey almost had a conniption fit, and if she hadn't been there, a fight would have happened.
So yeah. There's my rant for the day. Peace.
You peeps who know me from Huss: the happy-go-lucky, laid back me you know now is very different from what I was like at Grier.
I hated that place so much. What I felt throughout the time I went there was nothing but deep, smoldering, helpless rage, frustration, and utter hatred. I can't even form words to articulate how much I did NOT like that school. It was all the students, too. It was them who turned me against it. Otherwise, I would've been fine.
Imagine the normal behavior of the average Huss student, and magnify all the stupid, irritating, disrespectful, destructive, and whatever other negative aspects you can think of by tenfold. Those are the sort of people I dealt with at Grier.
Now, once I moved to Huss, I escaped the vast majority of those people, thanks to IB. So in the last two or three years, I've been able to relax and not have to deal with it. But the Chemistry class I'm taking is bringing up all the unpleasant memories, and it's not doing me much good.
This one group of arseholes who sit right in front of me are loud, disrespectful to the point that they openly mock the teacher, disruptive, and everything else I despised about the Grier students. The class is easy enough that I get done early, and am left with absolutely nothing to do but sit there and brood over how much I'd like to murder them all in the most gruesome manner I can imagine. That's what happened at Grier too: I got done and was left with nothing but to sit and brood.
Flashbacks of Grier are not good for my sanity, and for the personal safety of everyone around me.
In Grier, I was in my own little nutshell. I spoke to the others as little as humanly possible, I did my work and stuck my nose in a book. Even that didn't work half the time, since the teachers disliked me getting into my books in an effort to keep my sanity at a borderline normal level. I had to deal with these people every single day, starting the moment I walked into the building and ending when I crossed the street into the parking lot. Every day, the same torture.
And for most of my time at Grier, I had no friends. I knew that not only would none of the people there want to be friends with the little antisocial midget who snaps every time you say something in her general direction, but that I had so little in common with the vast majority of Grier students that I might as well have been another species. I hated every single one of them about as fiercely as you can hate any living thing, and I even if I was on the other side of the universe I would still be too close to them. So it was mutual hatred that kept me in my little bubble.
If I had stayed like that through the whole three years, I'd be a very different individual. But in the beginning of my eighth grade year, my two friends Kelsey and Tanis took me under their wings. No, they aren't even friends. They're more like my sisters in spirit. Look at me, I'm getting choked up just writing about it.
Really, those two helped keep me sane. If it hadn't been for them, I would've gone through a whole other year of sitting there hunched in my desk plotting homicide and knowing that all I can do is glare at the backs of their heads. Kelsey and Tanis pulled me from my abyss, from the little niche I had carved from the walls of the hellhole for myself, and brought me back from the brink. They were the ones I could talk to once I'd finished my work to ward off the hours of useless brooding, the ones I could confide in when it just got to be too much, the ones who held me back when I almost started a fight in P.E.
Yeah, I did almost start a fight. You peeps who know me from Huss know that usually I'm the last one you'd think of starting a fight, but this one little bitch just rubbed me completely the wrong way and I got sick and tired of putting up with it. Kelsey almost had a conniption fit, and if she hadn't been there, a fight would have happened.
So yeah. There's my rant for the day. Peace.
4.18.2008
Pop some bubbles for me, ol' man.
I look out the window at New Hope Rd. passing by in a blur of color, watching the people go on with their normal Friday afternoon activities. My arm is lightly draped over his bony shoulders, my thumb softly stroking his shaggy chocolate-colored fur.
Every so often I glance at him, my eyes resting on a body wasted with age, skin hanging from bone. This skeletal look has of late become familiar, the heavy stink hanging around him like a malodorous cloud a part of life. I think back to when he was young and active: he used to catapult himself off the ground after bubbles.
We walk into the vet office, and when the receptionist suggests we weigh him I think oh please. Where's the point in that?
The exam room door closes behind us and Beethoven's heavy, rasping breath fends off the silence. This panting is more distress than anything; I can see in his cloudy eyes that he is nervous. He knows perfectly well where he is, and wants to be gone.
We sit with him on the cool tiled floor, silence pervading the small room broken every now and then by sniffs. I blink frequently, dispelling the moisture that threatens to bead in the corners of my eyes. No particular thoughts go through my mind as I gently stroke his bony flank.
He struggles as the nurses try to give him a light sedative to relax him, though soon they get the needle in and give him the sedative. His body relaxes and he settles onto his side, the nictitating membrane flicking over his eyes as his breathing slows and deepens.
Once he's peacefully asleep, we take turns holding his head in our arms to murmur our good-byes. As I step around and lean over his still form, it finally catches up to me. I rest my brow on his temple, stroking his face. Sobs claw at my chest, struggling to be released, but my throat is closed shut. Eventually I must exhale, my breath ragged as I release it and draw air back in. For several minutes I ignore the world, fighting back the sobs constricting my trachea. See ya on the flip side, old man. You give a few squirrels hell for me, all right? Run 'em to the ground, like you used to go after them at home.
The little yellow button set into the wall is pressed twice, and it flashes incessantly for a while until someone acknowledges the summons and cuts it off. The vet walks into a room choked with suppressed emotion that hangs like a thick mist.
The torquinet is clamped around his leg until a vein stands up from his bony foreleg, and the needle goes in. I watch, my gaze transfixed as slowly the translucent pink liquid is injected, my mind still void of articulate thought. After a few minutes his diaphragm and larynx spasm, making him emit a curious noise like a weak cough though his heart has been still for several minutes.
The vet leaves us to take our time with the final good-bye.
"He's off chasing squirrels and eating bubbles now." Yeah. Pop some bubbles for me, ol' man.
Beethoven still looks like he's asleep, though the gentle rise and fall of his chest is absent. We all hold him one last time, and once more I wait until last. Though I have the opportunity to take as long as I wish, I know that the more I linger the worse it will be. "Bye, Obers." My voice is cracked as I stroke his ears one last time.
More sobs threaten as I take my last fleeting glimpse of him, lying perfectly still on the exam table. I fight them back, keeping my face as neutral as I can as we exit the clinic. It feels bizarre, leaving him there in the exam room.
During the journey home I hold his old collar, remembering how you were always able to tell where ol' Obers was when he had it on by the jingle and clatter of the tags. The strip of tough material lays across my lap, under scrutiny by eyes looking far away into the past.
The headache that had been threatening since fourth period manifests in my sinuses, trying to pry my eyes from my skull. Though I know it's caused by the tears I had let leak from the corners of my eyes, I like to think of it as a physical outlet for the aching grief. The rumbling snarl of the Harley in front of our car on the drive home seems unnaturally loud in my ears.
Stuck in my head in the song that had been playing in the exam room before the vet turned it off in that room prior to the final injection; ironically enough, the song is I Ain't Missing You At All.
So there you have it. After fourteen years, ol' Beethoven can finally rest easy now. Hooch will have fifteen fits and fall in them once he realizes that Obey won't come back, the poor pup.
If you peeps (David, Patrick and Reggie) notice me acting a bit quieter and distracted, don't worry too much. I'll be back to my usual spazzy, hyper self soon enough.
Every so often I glance at him, my eyes resting on a body wasted with age, skin hanging from bone. This skeletal look has of late become familiar, the heavy stink hanging around him like a malodorous cloud a part of life. I think back to when he was young and active: he used to catapult himself off the ground after bubbles.
We walk into the vet office, and when the receptionist suggests we weigh him I think oh please. Where's the point in that?
The exam room door closes behind us and Beethoven's heavy, rasping breath fends off the silence. This panting is more distress than anything; I can see in his cloudy eyes that he is nervous. He knows perfectly well where he is, and wants to be gone.
We sit with him on the cool tiled floor, silence pervading the small room broken every now and then by sniffs. I blink frequently, dispelling the moisture that threatens to bead in the corners of my eyes. No particular thoughts go through my mind as I gently stroke his bony flank.
He struggles as the nurses try to give him a light sedative to relax him, though soon they get the needle in and give him the sedative. His body relaxes and he settles onto his side, the nictitating membrane flicking over his eyes as his breathing slows and deepens.
Once he's peacefully asleep, we take turns holding his head in our arms to murmur our good-byes. As I step around and lean over his still form, it finally catches up to me. I rest my brow on his temple, stroking his face. Sobs claw at my chest, struggling to be released, but my throat is closed shut. Eventually I must exhale, my breath ragged as I release it and draw air back in. For several minutes I ignore the world, fighting back the sobs constricting my trachea. See ya on the flip side, old man. You give a few squirrels hell for me, all right? Run 'em to the ground, like you used to go after them at home.
The little yellow button set into the wall is pressed twice, and it flashes incessantly for a while until someone acknowledges the summons and cuts it off. The vet walks into a room choked with suppressed emotion that hangs like a thick mist.
The torquinet is clamped around his leg until a vein stands up from his bony foreleg, and the needle goes in. I watch, my gaze transfixed as slowly the translucent pink liquid is injected, my mind still void of articulate thought. After a few minutes his diaphragm and larynx spasm, making him emit a curious noise like a weak cough though his heart has been still for several minutes.
The vet leaves us to take our time with the final good-bye.
"He's off chasing squirrels and eating bubbles now." Yeah. Pop some bubbles for me, ol' man.
Beethoven still looks like he's asleep, though the gentle rise and fall of his chest is absent. We all hold him one last time, and once more I wait until last. Though I have the opportunity to take as long as I wish, I know that the more I linger the worse it will be. "Bye, Obers." My voice is cracked as I stroke his ears one last time.
More sobs threaten as I take my last fleeting glimpse of him, lying perfectly still on the exam table. I fight them back, keeping my face as neutral as I can as we exit the clinic. It feels bizarre, leaving him there in the exam room.
During the journey home I hold his old collar, remembering how you were always able to tell where ol' Obers was when he had it on by the jingle and clatter of the tags. The strip of tough material lays across my lap, under scrutiny by eyes looking far away into the past.
The headache that had been threatening since fourth period manifests in my sinuses, trying to pry my eyes from my skull. Though I know it's caused by the tears I had let leak from the corners of my eyes, I like to think of it as a physical outlet for the aching grief. The rumbling snarl of the Harley in front of our car on the drive home seems unnaturally loud in my ears.
Stuck in my head in the song that had been playing in the exam room before the vet turned it off in that room prior to the final injection; ironically enough, the song is I Ain't Missing You At All.
***
So there you have it. After fourteen years, ol' Beethoven can finally rest easy now. Hooch will have fifteen fits and fall in them once he realizes that Obey won't come back, the poor pup.
If you peeps (David, Patrick and Reggie) notice me acting a bit quieter and distracted, don't worry too much. I'll be back to my usual spazzy, hyper self soon enough.
4.17.2008
Cambrige Pikchers!
Uploading photos for the mandala project, I stumbled on the pictures I took in Cambrige. There aren't many, but one or three in particular make me giggle. These ones I'ma post are from the trip to Ely Cathedral. For some reason almost all the pictures I took were fuzzy, but these two are pretty good.
The first one is from a bathroom since the person I was hanging around with needed to go, and the second one is from us wandering aimlessly in the drizzle. Then there's the picture of Ely Cathedral's octagonal spire, which was absurdly high. In the picture you can't really tell, but near the top are twenty-four huge wooden panels painted with angels, and they open out so people in the tower can look into the church. Some of us happened to glance up as someone was looking down, and it made me realize how BLOODY HIGH that tower was. X_x
The first one had me laughing hysterically for like five minutes. I wanted to steal it and bring it home.
The first one is from a bathroom since the person I was hanging around with needed to go, and the second one is from us wandering aimlessly in the drizzle. Then there's the picture of Ely Cathedral's octagonal spire, which was absurdly high. In the picture you can't really tell, but near the top are twenty-four huge wooden panels painted with angels, and they open out so people in the tower can look into the church. Some of us happened to glance up as someone was looking down, and it made me realize how BLOODY HIGH that tower was. X_x
The first one had me laughing hysterically for like five minutes. I wanted to steal it and bring it home.
4.16.2008
-runs into the wall-
Whee! I stole the How to Read volume from Amanda in Chemistry and read about half of it before Inman caught me. XD Though since the stuff is pretty easy and Inman ends up repeating everything like five times for the little mob of hoodlums(to borrow Mrs. B's word) who never listen, it's no big deal.
Splee. I think I may end up keeping the Real Name card that came with it. Despite what people may think, L is still the most awesome character in the series. -nodnod-
So yeah. Enough gushing, I have a Biology outline to do.
BUT WAIT! Follow link! I almost passed out when I found this. P> Seester, you remember Cyborg 009, yes?
Splee. I think I may end up keeping the Real Name card that came with it. Despite what people may think, L is still the most awesome character in the series. -nodnod-
So yeah. Enough gushing, I have a Biology outline to do.
BUT WAIT! Follow link! I almost passed out when I found this. P> Seester, you remember Cyborg 009, yes?
4.15.2008
>_O
Chemistry is a math-intensive class. But the math is algebra. For someone who's been taking PreCal for the past semester, the stuff we're given in Chemistry is baffling. I'm serious! My brain is in PreCal mode, so the algebra is haaard. -headdesk- Really it's simple Algebra I (PreAlgebra even) but when I try to do it my brain has a horrifying pile-up 'cos it's trying to look at it as PreCal. >_< I'm having to remind myself that it's algebra, not hellspawn.
By the way, trying to find the cosine of the C angle on an oblique triangle is a bitch. A and B are easy enough, but since C is technically cos(x+y) you hafta use the cosxcosy-sinxsiny which gives you something really freaky that I can't bring to mind at the moment. It doesn't reduce easily like the sines do. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, don't bother. It's something we're doing in PreCal. Laws of Sines and Cosines and verifying them, whoo hoo! -sarasm-
So yeah. My rant for the day. -wanders off to finish my PreCal homework-
By the way, trying to find the cosine of the C angle on an oblique triangle is a bitch. A and B are easy enough, but since C is technically cos(x+y) you hafta use the cosxcosy-sinxsiny which gives you something really freaky that I can't bring to mind at the moment. It doesn't reduce easily like the sines do. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, don't bother. It's something we're doing in PreCal. Laws of Sines and Cosines and verifying them, whoo hoo! -sarasm-
So yeah. My rant for the day. -wanders off to finish my PreCal homework-
4.14.2008
I Know Something You Don't!
I know L's real name! And his birthday. -cackle-
Forgive me for gushing about Death Note again, but this series seriously PWNs my face. >_O
But whee! Apparently there's a thirteenth volume of manga that has all the little secrets and such that you never find out, like L's name and birthday. One of my friends in my Chemistry class got a copy. I'ma steal it from her tomorrow when she brings it. -glee-
But she did relay the details that had been annoying the almighty snot out of me that she remembered. And we figured out ages and such. -cackles again-
So, how old do those of you who've read it think L is? -grin-
Forgive me for gushing about Death Note again, but this series seriously PWNs my face. >_O
But whee! Apparently there's a thirteenth volume of manga that has all the little secrets and such that you never find out, like L's name and birthday. One of my friends in my Chemistry class got a copy. I'ma steal it from her tomorrow when she brings it. -glee-
But she did relay the details that had been annoying the almighty snot out of me that she remembered. And we figured out ages and such. -cackles again-
So, how old do those of you who've read it think L is? -grin-
4.13.2008
New post!
Since I'm afraid Seester might eat me if I don't update this thing every now and then, it's a new post from everyone's favorite band geek.
Boy, Radar got me good. X_x Today was the monthly flea-tick meds, and Radar does NOT like being touched. When I was letting him go one of his back claws caught me on the index finger. It's a tidy little cut. Bled like hell for a while.
Anyways, yeah. I'z got new Tripps. At first I wasn't sure about the black, but the purple stitching has grown on me. These're more ornate than my camo Tripps. THe only thing is that they're WAY TOO LONG. I feel like a draft horse when I walk around in these. XP
Not much else to report, 'cept that my Muse is overactive still. -headdesk- Hyper little booger.
Aaand me and Patrick watched Sweeney Todd the other night. -squee- Any Tim Burton movie is automatically awesome, and Jonny Depp in an awesome actor. Not too bad a voice, either.
But damn. A musical! Did you peeps know that the chick who plays Mrs. Lovett in the movie is with Tim Burton? They have a kid! -falls over- Yeah, I watched the special behind-the-scenes thinger on he disc, after watching the movie itself for the third time (and getting a few of the tunes stuck in my head).
Boy, Radar got me good. X_x Today was the monthly flea-tick meds, and Radar does NOT like being touched. When I was letting him go one of his back claws caught me on the index finger. It's a tidy little cut. Bled like hell for a while.
Anyways, yeah. I'z got new Tripps. At first I wasn't sure about the black, but the purple stitching has grown on me. These're more ornate than my camo Tripps. THe only thing is that they're WAY TOO LONG. I feel like a draft horse when I walk around in these. XP
Not much else to report, 'cept that my Muse is overactive still. -headdesk- Hyper little booger.
Aaand me and Patrick watched Sweeney Todd the other night. -squee- Any Tim Burton movie is automatically awesome, and Jonny Depp in an awesome actor. Not too bad a voice, either.
But damn. A musical! Did you peeps know that the chick who plays Mrs. Lovett in the movie is with Tim Burton? They have a kid! -falls over- Yeah, I watched the special behind-the-scenes thinger on he disc, after watching the movie itself for the third time (and getting a few of the tunes stuck in my head).
3.26.2008
-squee-
I know two posts in one day is odd, but I can't help myself. H'okay. I was poking around on Photobucket the other day looking for pictures that would inspire my Muse, and I came upon a few really awesome pics. -squee-
Well, that was probably a mistake on my part, considering that now my Muse is fixated and won't cooperate with anything else I do. T_T
It's a Death Note fan-fic, if you were wondering. I might put some of it up here once I get around to typing it.
ANYHOW, here's one of the images I found. -grin- Note that I just found it. -isn't nearly that good at people-
There were several others, but I dun feel like pulling them up. XD One of them had a lolcat-like caption that nearly made me fall out of my chair laughing.
Well, that was probably a mistake on my part, considering that now my Muse is fixated and won't cooperate with anything else I do. T_T
It's a Death Note fan-fic, if you were wondering. I might put some of it up here once I get around to typing it.
ANYHOW, here's one of the images I found. -grin- Note that I just found it. -isn't nearly that good at people-
I'm sorry, but I think they're adorable. XD Please click for the full-sized image!
There were several others, but I dun feel like pulling them up. XD One of them had a lolcat-like caption that nearly made me fall out of my chair laughing.
-falls over laughing-
We just bypassed an FBI filter today in US History.
Yup. Now we can send porn through Gaggle, the school system's email system that blocks the word anal.
Curious? I thought so.
So, Noblitt was telling me and David that Gaggle uses an FBI filter to look through the email messages and attachments. The filter scans pictures and looks for such percent of flesh tones that indicates bare skin, right?
Well, the thought occurred to me that you might be able to bypass it by putting the picture in grayscale or changing the colors. So Noblitt pulled an image of the Greek goddess Aphrodite in the nude off the 'net and inverted the colors.
Then he logged into my Gaggle account and attached the now-blue image to an email and sent it to Patrick's Gaggle.
The first one didn't go through 'cos Noblitt was a genius and said "free porn!" in the message, but the second one with just "hi" or something actually went through.
So now we know how to bypass an FBI filter and send porn. XDD
Yup. Now we can send porn through Gaggle, the school system's email system that blocks the word anal.
Curious? I thought so.
So, Noblitt was telling me and David that Gaggle uses an FBI filter to look through the email messages and attachments. The filter scans pictures and looks for such percent of flesh tones that indicates bare skin, right?
Well, the thought occurred to me that you might be able to bypass it by putting the picture in grayscale or changing the colors. So Noblitt pulled an image of the Greek goddess Aphrodite in the nude off the 'net and inverted the colors.
Then he logged into my Gaggle account and attached the now-blue image to an email and sent it to Patrick's Gaggle.
The first one didn't go through 'cos Noblitt was a genius and said "free porn!" in the message, but the second one with just "hi" or something actually went through.
So now we know how to bypass an FBI filter and send porn. XDD
3.25.2008
-runs in a circle-
Before I get on my whole long rant, I'll go ahead and make this clear:
We'd thought that ol' Obers was nearing the end, but then we got his meds refilled and he perked back up. So, we're gonna wait until he starts to look bad even on his medication to put him down.
And I skipped school for nothing! -dances-
ANYHOW, back to the original purpose of my blog. X_x
I was doing research for my US History essay, on the "war at home" that happened during the Vietnam War. As I was doing this, it struck me that the situation at that time is eerily similar to what's going on now with Iraq.
For example, these lyrics from a war-protest song of the time:
Also, these quotes from a one of my book sources:
Anyone with half a brain-stem can see the similarities. It's almost identical. And, at least in my opinion, it's very sad. Because really, we are repeating Vietnam over in Iraq. Losing the lives of our soldiers, shoveling money into the war, and why? Because there were WMD in Iraq?
Actually, there weren't.
Because we were afraid that the terrorists would set up another stronghold in Iraq?
Saddam hated Al Quaeda's guts!
So, must we go through another Vietnam? Another spat of having our country divided over one issue? Another Kent State?
Another quote from the same book:
There's a state law that says teachers can't make their students stand up for the pledge. Personally, I don't.
Not because I hate my country. In fact, I admire the set of ideals upon which the United States was built, and the work of the Framers of the Constitution. I marvel at how the system has lasted this long, through so much.
But I do not love the people who are currently running the government.
If the politicians running the country were less, well, politician, then I would gladly and proudly stand up every morning and say, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands; one nation, under God, indivisible, for liberty and for justice for all."
If it was a government run by people who were worthy of the titles they hold, I would do this. But while this poor, beautiful country of ours is in the hands of idiots, I think not.
Perhaps the coming elections hold hope for us; at least our erstwhile President cannot be reelected and there are some forward-thinking people in the forefront of the elections, but really I don't trust any of them.
Whether it's Hillary or Obama or one of the Republican candidates who gets elected, until they do something good for this country, they're the same sort of idiotic scumbag to me.
I'm sorry for those of you who happen to think differently, but this is what's going through my mind, and you'd have to do some damn good convincing to persuade me to think otherwise. Trust takes a long time to build, and is easily shattered. My trust in all politicians has been ground to dust by the last few years, and I'm not so dense as to think that everything these candidates say they'll do, they'll implement if elected. I'm not that naive.
Anyway, there's my rant for the week. -staggers off to work more on my essay-
Please pardon any typos in that, I can't spell to save my life.
We'd thought that ol' Obers was nearing the end, but then we got his meds refilled and he perked back up. So, we're gonna wait until he starts to look bad even on his medication to put him down.
And I skipped school for nothing! -dances-
ANYHOW, back to the original purpose of my blog. X_x
I was doing research for my US History essay, on the "war at home" that happened during the Vietnam War. As I was doing this, it struck me that the situation at that time is eerily similar to what's going on now with Iraq.
For example, these lyrics from a war-protest song of the time:
An' it's 1,2,3, what're we fightin' for?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn!
Next stop is Viet Nam!
An' it's 5, 6, 7, open up the Pearly Gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee!
We're all gonna die!
- Country Joe, I Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn!
Next stop is Viet Nam!
An' it's 5, 6, 7, open up the Pearly Gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why,
Whoopee!
We're all gonna die!
- Country Joe, I Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag
Also, these quotes from a one of my book sources:
“One lesson of Vietnam is that intervening is much more complicated that siding with the ‘good guys’ or ‘bad guys:’ we need to give up out delusions of omnipotence… Rather than intervene on ideological grounds, humanitarian concerns would be better served if we asked: will it work? Can we make life better for the country? Is it really in our national interests?”
- Myra MacPherson
"And I think it might be wise to ask students whether a nation ought to go to war with such a sense of ambiguity about what's right and wrong."
- Tim O'Brien
Anyone with half a brain-stem can see the similarities. It's almost identical. And, at least in my opinion, it's very sad. Because really, we are repeating Vietnam over in Iraq. Losing the lives of our soldiers, shoveling money into the war, and why? Because there were WMD in Iraq?
Actually, there weren't.
Because we were afraid that the terrorists would set up another stronghold in Iraq?
Saddam hated Al Quaeda's guts!
So, must we go through another Vietnam? Another spat of having our country divided over one issue? Another Kent State?
Another quote from the same book:
"I would point out to young American boys and girls that 'it could be you.' You could be a dead Marine; a draft dodger living in Canada; a permanently disabled person in a hospital or a prison. Your life could be ruined by war. It is easy. History can just sweep you away. Events in your life can force you to think about the government and war and patriotism."
- Country Joe McDonald
And he's right. Here are my thoughts about the government and war and patriotism:There's a state law that says teachers can't make their students stand up for the pledge. Personally, I don't.
Not because I hate my country. In fact, I admire the set of ideals upon which the United States was built, and the work of the Framers of the Constitution. I marvel at how the system has lasted this long, through so much.
But I do not love the people who are currently running the government.
If the politicians running the country were less, well, politician, then I would gladly and proudly stand up every morning and say, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands; one nation, under God, indivisible, for liberty and for justice for all."
If it was a government run by people who were worthy of the titles they hold, I would do this. But while this poor, beautiful country of ours is in the hands of idiots, I think not.
Perhaps the coming elections hold hope for us; at least our erstwhile President cannot be reelected and there are some forward-thinking people in the forefront of the elections, but really I don't trust any of them.
Whether it's Hillary or Obama or one of the Republican candidates who gets elected, until they do something good for this country, they're the same sort of idiotic scumbag to me.
I'm sorry for those of you who happen to think differently, but this is what's going through my mind, and you'd have to do some damn good convincing to persuade me to think otherwise. Trust takes a long time to build, and is easily shattered. My trust in all politicians has been ground to dust by the last few years, and I'm not so dense as to think that everything these candidates say they'll do, they'll implement if elected. I'm not that naive.
Anyway, there's my rant for the week. -staggers off to work more on my essay-
Please pardon any typos in that, I can't spell to save my life.
3.01.2008
It's time.
He's nothing but shaggy fur stretched over bone.
His eyes are cloudy.
His nose is dry and cracked as a riverbed in the desert.
He stinks.
But he's my dog.
He can hardly get up, much less walk, and often falls down the stairs.
The lightest nudge tips him over.
He leaves puddles and yellow spots on the floor and his bedding.
But he's my dog.
We got him thirteen, more like fourteen years ago: I still remember being chased around by him and his littermates.
The white mark on one hip that used to be shaped like a "B" for Beethoven has since become a "C." for Capehart.
And now, "Old Beethoven," is nearing the end.
We're taking him as soon as we can to the vet.
We probably should have done it a long time ago, but our hopes got the better of us.
"He's still eating well," We thought.
But enough is enough.
It's time to say good-bye.
So, Beethoven, the furry friend I've had since almost before I can remember,
my first pet, the one who's been there through good times and bad,
Good-bye.
His eyes are cloudy.
His nose is dry and cracked as a riverbed in the desert.
He stinks.
But he's my dog.
He can hardly get up, much less walk, and often falls down the stairs.
The lightest nudge tips him over.
He leaves puddles and yellow spots on the floor and his bedding.
But he's my dog.
We got him thirteen, more like fourteen years ago: I still remember being chased around by him and his littermates.
The white mark on one hip that used to be shaped like a "B" for Beethoven has since become a "C." for Capehart.
And now, "Old Beethoven," is nearing the end.
We're taking him as soon as we can to the vet.
We probably should have done it a long time ago, but our hopes got the better of us.
"He's still eating well," We thought.
But enough is enough.
It's time to say good-bye.
So, Beethoven, the furry friend I've had since almost before I can remember,
my first pet, the one who's been there through good times and bad,
Good-bye.
2.07.2008
Beginnings Start Where Endings Stop
Since the rest of the peeps seem to have themed their latest posts on the new semester, I figured I'd be a conforming for once. ^_~
!st Period: Biology II AP (the second half)
2nd Period: PreCalculus
3rd Period: US History (second half)
4th Period: Chemistry
There's my schedule, and I have a sinking feeling that at one point or another it's gonna start wailing on my ass. Xx Not just kicking it, I mean no-holds-barred punishment! -falls over and twitches-
Biology and US History aren't gonna be so bad since they're teachers I've had since forever and I'm still in the groove of the classes, but PreCal and Chemistry, ah hah...
!st Period: Biology II AP (the second half)
2nd Period: PreCalculus
3rd Period: US History (second half)
4th Period: Chemistry
There's my schedule, and I have a sinking feeling that at one point or another it's gonna start wailing on my ass. Xx Not just kicking it, I mean no-holds-barred punishment! -falls over and twitches-
Biology and US History aren't gonna be so bad since they're teachers I've had since forever and I'm still in the groove of the classes, but PreCal and Chemistry, ah hah...
1.10.2008
Just Breathe
2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake,
I don't love him, winter just wasn't my season."
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
hypocrites, you're all here for the very same reason
'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
and life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button girl,
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe, just breathe,
Woah breathe, just breathe
May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
Just today he sat down to the flask in his fist,
Ain't been sober since maybe October of last year.
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But my God it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him, maybe I'll just sing about it.
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe, just breathe,
Woah breathe, just breathe
There's a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
'Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
These mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of a crowd
'Cause these words are my diary screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them however you want to
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe...
- Anna Nalick, Just Breathe (2 AM)
This pretty much sums up the last couple days. If you've never heard the song, look it up on YouTube. It PWNs my face.
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake,
I don't love him, winter just wasn't my season."
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
hypocrites, you're all here for the very same reason
'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
and life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button girl,
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe, just breathe,
Woah breathe, just breathe
May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
Just today he sat down to the flask in his fist,
Ain't been sober since maybe October of last year.
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But my God it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him, maybe I'll just sing about it.
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe, just breathe,
Woah breathe, just breathe
There's a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
'Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
These mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of a crowd
'Cause these words are my diary screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them however you want to
Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe...
- Anna Nalick, Just Breathe (2 AM)
This pretty much sums up the last couple days. If you've never heard the song, look it up on YouTube. It PWNs my face.
1.09.2008
Blah...
This semester has kicked my ass.
The crap with the divorce and all has touched a nerve that I've been covering up and ignoring with more success than expected, until now. Now sometimes I feel like something big and heavy has just collapsed on top of me and is about to crush me, suffocate me, or both.
School is flaying me alive too, big time.
AP classes were WAY harder than I first expected, and now that I've got my feet more under me and have settled in again, there's still that thorn in my side: Spanish.
I didn't sign up for it, I didn't WANT to sign up for it. But when I had the chance to change it before the semester started I way underestimated the difficulty of my upcoming classes. I've been failing that class since the beginning. The first three weeks of school I was completely in the dark about it. I missed the ten-day drop period (hah! I hadn't a clue it existed!) and so it looks like, since it's a year-long class that's already been paid for and everything, I probably won't be able to drop it.
There goes my GPA!
Ugh. The divorce thorn in my side's taken a toll too. Not only has something big and heavy collapsed on me, but the bottom has dropped out of my universe.
Mom's new boy hasn't helped matters AT ALL.
I'll act amiable enough, but I neither like him nor do I think I can tolerate his presence for much longer. It seems like Mom takes every chance she can to have him over, and I'm getting fucking tired of it. I can understand him being run out of his son's house on the weekends while the rooms above his new shop are being rennovated, but y'know what, there's a new invention called hotels. Stay there, don't invade the only home I've known for sixteen years and not had to share with anyone but my family, friends, or my sister's friends.
Yes, I've been naive to think that my parents would never argue and never need time apart. Yes, I'd be naive to think that Mom wouldn't look for someone else to be with. But those naive notions have been brutally shattered, and I've been alive long enough that those naive notions are deeply ingrained.
Mom may not think that this affects my performance in school much, but I'm pretty sure it does. Kate agrees. She tells me her butt's been whipped too.
Normally I'm not much a one for being depressed or anything, but this past semester's stress has hit hard, and I still haven't gotten my balance back.
Hell, I haven't even felt this downright shitty since Memaw died. I got over that fairly quickly, probably since it was that one thing and there wasn't anything to rub my face in it.
But with this, on a regular basis the divorce is being rubbed in my face, and it's getting raw.
This sort of stress isn't good for a junior with hard AP classes in a tough academy like IB and hopes to attend a prestigous university like Chapel Hill. AT ALL!
-snort- What am I saying, it's not good for anyone period!
-hunches sulkily in a corner muttering darkly to self-
The world is stupid. People are stupid. People are greedy. People are selfish. People are ignorant. People are lazy. People are insensitive. People are close-minded. People are people! That's what's wrong with the world!
That's why so many people died and will die in the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, and Iraq. That's why people are and have been slaughtered like so many chickens in Rwanda and Sudan. That's why my school, with some of the best teachers I've ever had the privilege to learn from, is the poorest, shoddiest school in the county. That's why my school has the worst reputation. That's why whenever something happens at my school it's on the front page of the paper, and when similar things happen at other schools it's hardly a little blip buried in the paper. That's why Columbine happened. That's why people like David get so down that they sound almost suicidal in their blogs when their girlfriends break up with them. That's why my patience and peace of mind have been tried to almost the breaking point this last semester.
That's why I'm ranting mindlessly right now, trying to vent all the pent-up frustration, grief, and helpless indignation I've been carrying for weeks.
The crap with the divorce and all has touched a nerve that I've been covering up and ignoring with more success than expected, until now. Now sometimes I feel like something big and heavy has just collapsed on top of me and is about to crush me, suffocate me, or both.
School is flaying me alive too, big time.
AP classes were WAY harder than I first expected, and now that I've got my feet more under me and have settled in again, there's still that thorn in my side: Spanish.
I didn't sign up for it, I didn't WANT to sign up for it. But when I had the chance to change it before the semester started I way underestimated the difficulty of my upcoming classes. I've been failing that class since the beginning. The first three weeks of school I was completely in the dark about it. I missed the ten-day drop period (hah! I hadn't a clue it existed!) and so it looks like, since it's a year-long class that's already been paid for and everything, I probably won't be able to drop it.
There goes my GPA!
Ugh. The divorce thorn in my side's taken a toll too. Not only has something big and heavy collapsed on me, but the bottom has dropped out of my universe.
Mom's new boy hasn't helped matters AT ALL.
I'll act amiable enough, but I neither like him nor do I think I can tolerate his presence for much longer. It seems like Mom takes every chance she can to have him over, and I'm getting fucking tired of it. I can understand him being run out of his son's house on the weekends while the rooms above his new shop are being rennovated, but y'know what, there's a new invention called hotels. Stay there, don't invade the only home I've known for sixteen years and not had to share with anyone but my family, friends, or my sister's friends.
Yes, I've been naive to think that my parents would never argue and never need time apart. Yes, I'd be naive to think that Mom wouldn't look for someone else to be with. But those naive notions have been brutally shattered, and I've been alive long enough that those naive notions are deeply ingrained.
Mom may not think that this affects my performance in school much, but I'm pretty sure it does. Kate agrees. She tells me her butt's been whipped too.
Normally I'm not much a one for being depressed or anything, but this past semester's stress has hit hard, and I still haven't gotten my balance back.
Hell, I haven't even felt this downright shitty since Memaw died. I got over that fairly quickly, probably since it was that one thing and there wasn't anything to rub my face in it.
But with this, on a regular basis the divorce is being rubbed in my face, and it's getting raw.
This sort of stress isn't good for a junior with hard AP classes in a tough academy like IB and hopes to attend a prestigous university like Chapel Hill. AT ALL!
-snort- What am I saying, it's not good for anyone period!
-hunches sulkily in a corner muttering darkly to self-
The world is stupid. People are stupid. People are greedy. People are selfish. People are ignorant. People are lazy. People are insensitive. People are close-minded. People are people! That's what's wrong with the world!
That's why so many people died and will die in the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, and Iraq. That's why people are and have been slaughtered like so many chickens in Rwanda and Sudan. That's why my school, with some of the best teachers I've ever had the privilege to learn from, is the poorest, shoddiest school in the county. That's why my school has the worst reputation. That's why whenever something happens at my school it's on the front page of the paper, and when similar things happen at other schools it's hardly a little blip buried in the paper. That's why Columbine happened. That's why people like David get so down that they sound almost suicidal in their blogs when their girlfriends break up with them. That's why my patience and peace of mind have been tried to almost the breaking point this last semester.
That's why I'm ranting mindlessly right now, trying to vent all the pent-up frustration, grief, and helpless indignation I've been carrying for weeks.
12.22.2007
Maawwwrrr...
My friend David's not doing so well. He posted on his blog about some shit he's had to deal with. He asked everyone who read it to reply, so I spilled my guts. Reading his blog post and typing my reply almost brought tears to my eyes.
It just shows to go that life is a roller coaster, with ups and downs. Rarely a flat path, always bumps and curves. The trick in life is to accept the bad days with grace, accept the good days with joy, and reflect on your life without bitterness, but understanding. Understanding that not all your life will be spent in a happy bubble. Understanding that there will be shit to deal with, and dealing with that shit will make you, in the end, a better person. What doesn't kill you helps you, and with that sort of thing it really does. It gives you a new perspective, a level of empathy for your fellow humans. It helps you understand the people around you, and if you do that, life is easier. If you have people that you understand and that understand you around, they can help you through the shit, and can be better for it with you.
So, until I get struck with more deep stuff or the normal randomness, peace out.
It just shows to go that life is a roller coaster, with ups and downs. Rarely a flat path, always bumps and curves. The trick in life is to accept the bad days with grace, accept the good days with joy, and reflect on your life without bitterness, but understanding. Understanding that not all your life will be spent in a happy bubble. Understanding that there will be shit to deal with, and dealing with that shit will make you, in the end, a better person. What doesn't kill you helps you, and with that sort of thing it really does. It gives you a new perspective, a level of empathy for your fellow humans. It helps you understand the people around you, and if you do that, life is easier. If you have people that you understand and that understand you around, they can help you through the shit, and can be better for it with you.
So, until I get struck with more deep stuff or the normal randomness, peace out.
12.04.2007
Mer Chrshms
Even though it's hardly December and by my standards the Christmas season doesn't truly begin until roughly December 15th, I need to get an idea about what peeps want.
You Neo D.I.E peeps, if you don't at least give me an idea, I know where you go to school. -shakes fist-
You Neo D.I.E peeps, if you don't at least give me an idea, I know where you go to school. -shakes fist-
11.26.2007
O.O
Hmm. Time for a bit of change. New template. We'll see how this works. I'll probably change it. Ah well.
-shiftyeyes- I got nuthin'.
Aaaand I just lost. -headdesk-
-shiftyeyes- I got nuthin'.
Aaaand I just lost. -headdesk-
11.14.2007
This is ridiculous...
It's nice to feel safe in school and all, but this is getting ridiculous.
I understand the random search in the morning and limiting in-and-out access to the
main entrance during the day, and a few extra police, but that's where I draw the line.
Not searching EVERYONE who walks in.
Or saying you can't bring your bookbag/books to lunch (OR a girl's handbag...)
Or setting up a metal detector at the cafeteria entrance and making everyone file in one-by-one, through ONE door.
Tomorrow they'll want us to take off shoes and belts, I bet...
I understand the random search in the morning and limiting in-and-out access to the
main entrance during the day, and a few extra police, but that's where I draw the line.
Not searching EVERYONE who walks in.
Or saying you can't bring your bookbag/books to lunch (OR a girl's handbag...)
Or setting up a metal detector at the cafeteria entrance and making everyone file in one-by-one, through ONE door.
Tomorrow they'll want us to take off shoes and belts, I bet...
11.01.2007
Bleh...
Yeah, yeah, haven't posted in ages. Oh well.
I've been in a foul mood for most of the day, dunno why. Hey, at least it's almost the weekend. Huh. Battle of the Bell tomorrow, then -sigh- another competition. -gag- It's our last, thankfully. Then the Fanfare of Bands on Tuesday, then (maybe) the playoffs, perhaps the Christmas parade, then we're done! Whoo!
Anyhow. . . not really much to say. . . I just lost. -headdesk-
. . . . and the lamp! -strikes dramatic pose-
Oh yeah! Update on the shitter. (Yes, I have admitted that he's a shitter) We changed his name (again) to Petey. And, the other weekend, he has officially become addicted to playing red-bug. Yes, addicted. That little mutt is obsessed with chasing the laser-pointer. He's a hoot. He'll chase in a circle or back and forth for as long as you'll play, and if you time it you'll get him to crash into the wall. XP
I've been in a foul mood for most of the day, dunno why. Hey, at least it's almost the weekend. Huh. Battle of the Bell tomorrow, then -sigh- another competition. -gag- It's our last, thankfully. Then the Fanfare of Bands on Tuesday, then (maybe) the playoffs, perhaps the Christmas parade, then we're done! Whoo!
Anyhow. . . not really much to say. . . I just lost. -headdesk-
. . . . and the lamp! -strikes dramatic pose-
Oh yeah! Update on the shitter. (Yes, I have admitted that he's a shitter) We changed his name (again) to Petey. And, the other weekend, he has officially become addicted to playing red-bug. Yes, addicted. That little mutt is obsessed with chasing the laser-pointer. He's a hoot. He'll chase in a circle or back and forth for as long as you'll play, and if you time it you'll get him to crash into the wall. XP
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