Silent Infinity

Here's your chance

2011-09-21T23:03:00.000-05:00

Ira Glass on Storytelling from David Shiyang Liu on Vimeo.

Somebody posted this in my region's forum on NaNoWriMo. How fitting!

By, the way, NaNoWriMo is fast approaching...

A perfect opportunity to get all that slush out of your brain so your writing will get better.

One of those get poor quick (just as fast?) schemes

2011-09-10T23:36:00.001-05:00

What now?

I'm at one of those crossroads thingies. Maybe. Maybe not - I don't have to decide anything right now. I almost wish I did.

I don't know what I want to do with my life.

Which is totally fine by me. But it's kind of irritating. I'M GONNA BE A FARMER, I say to anyone who asks the stupid question(s). It has seemed right for so long. So why am I doubting it now? What happened?

Don't get me wrong - I still want, no, need the farm. I cannot live in the suburbs, nor the city, no matter how exciting it may be. I need the animals. I need the connection to my food. I need the quiet, peaceful life.

But do I want to grow vegetables in pretty little rows? Do I want to pull all those weeds? I don't want a tractor. Do I want to be tied to my land, to my goats and my tomatoes? I don't know. Maybe someday. I don't know why I feel I have to rush it. So what if I don't get land until I'm thirty? Pride is a terrible thing. I'm starting to understand why it's considered a sin.

Grandma thinks she's dying. What else is new. She only has three or four years left, she says, and she wants to see me settled. I don't know how to tell her that I don't want to be settled. Ever. Or least not for a few more decades.

I want excitement! I want adventure in the great wide somewhere! (I quote Pocahontas endlessly.)

I want to always be innovating. I don't want a plan to stick to. People with plans get stuck in a rut and end up unhappy. I cannot let myself get unhappy - I've been there before and I really, really don't want to go back.

Lately I've been hanging around helping my aunt on photo shoots. For 25 or so years, she's been an animal trainer for print ads, commercials, movies, etc. She couldn't work for anyone else's company - she had something like ten jobs in one year - so she started her own business doing what she loved. She took photographs when she needed to, at auditions and things like that. It was never her hobby, just part of her work. Then one day, a few years ago, someone said they wanted to buy her pictures. Being innovative and the incredible optimist that she is, she went, "Wait a minute, I can make money from this!" And now she's an animal photographer, selling stock and working for big names like Purina, 3M, and Pfizer.

She had already knew the trade, having been on so many shoots as a trainer, so it was easy for her. And that's how work should be. Easy. Like play.

Last weekend we were shooting (taking pictures of, I mean) cats for a calendar. And she casually said to my sister and I, "You've got to make your own work."

That's it. That's what I want to do. Make my own work.

Here I am, waiting for someone to say, Hey, you can do this, why don't I pay you to do it for me? It's never going to happen. I can't keep waiting for work to be made for me; I have to make it myself.

I don't know yet what that work is going to be. Knitting maybe. Raising sheep and spinning yarn is definitely in my future, even if I only try it once. I love to write, though I don't do it hardly enough. I want to publish a book someday. Writers don't get paid much, but at least it's something.

Lately I've taken up art. Horses, of course. They're all I think about. Somehow I have to find a way to make money from being with horses. First I have to make money so I can get the horses and the experience.

Maybe growing food will work out for me someday. I just need to remind myself that it's not my only option, and it's not my only successful end.

I made some pixel tags to sell on a horse SIM game that I play. Pixel tags are a big deal in the horse sim community. They go for a lot of fake money, and real money as well on deviantart. People buy or commision the lineart and the bases (shading) to color themselves and resell, too. I'm hoping to get good enough that I can sell recolors for real money (usually $1-2 or more) and eventually lines and bases. Is it silly? Maybe. Will I get rich? No. But I enjoy it, and I'm good at it. I may have found my medium.

Some recolors I did:

Yeah, I had to write all over them and put my signature (sk) on their faces. Art theft sucks.

The one in the upper right is for me; the rest were custom orders. If I found someone to trade the game money that I made off of this one pixel base for real money, I'd have $10-15 USD. From my first pixel tag. That's kind of a big deal.

This is where I'm at today.

Why bother growing up?

2011-08-24T21:33:00.000-05:00

Do grown-ups play? Why not?

Do we feel larger without it,

or do we resign ourselves to being small?

Does it make it easier to live in this world?

The less we play, the harder it becomes.

I hope I never stop playing.

So the methods change,

and the fantasies mature -

so what?

At least I feel like myself again.

I read this today:

"We don't create a fantasy world to escape reality,

we create it to be able to stay."

It was in a book called What It Is by Lynda Barry. I like her work very much.

My goal today was not to take pictures of toys being toys. I have plenty of those.

No, my goal today was to make the toys seem real, so that I can imagine my dream coming true.

I will never, ever outgrow horses.

Baby, I was born this way

2011-08-20T18:13:00.001-05:00

So the other day Kate from Eat the Damn Cake was talking about her lack of hair and bralessness and whatever and it got me a-thinking. She always seems to do that. Get me thinking, I mean. It's like she reads my thoughts or something. Or like we have the same ones. Whatever.

I feel so much better, so much more myself, with short hair. It's like my personality changes depending on the length of my hair. Having long hair seems to soften who I am, making me less opinionated and less harsh, but also less friendly, less funny, less valuable. With super short hair I am perfect and flawed and unashamed to be the way I am.

Like Kate, I've never felt more feminine than I do now. And I have never let go of so many beauty standards before either. I haven't shaved my legs in almost a year and a half. The hair is thick and full, but incredibly soft. I can't imagine shaving it all off. I shaved my armpits about a month ago for the first time since around Christmas, and I deeply regretted it. They hurt for three days straight. Was it worth it, looking pretty and not being embarrassed at the wedding? No! Not one bit. I guess I needed to do it though, so I could get over it. I feel like I should hide my hairy armpits in shame, because it's "gross" or whatever, but I don't think they're gross!

I also don't wear bras, which annoys my sister. As do my hairy legs and my bare feet and the fact that I don't go to college and my existence. Basically I've written her off. It's hard to have a best friend that you disagree with on most everything. But I digress. (Whatever that means.)

Do you know how good it feels to live without a bra? You can't even imagine until you do it for a few weeks. I could never go back. I even finally bought a wireless bra, but I don't even wear it unless I'm going to be chasing animals around (which happens more often than you'd think). I can breathe again! My ribs don't hurt!

I feel right. So this is what it means to be a woman. I've always struggled with that, wavering between indifferent and girly. Only after giving up all heed to society's dictates do I finally feel real. The only rules I follow are my own, my body's. I feel so free. This is the way I was meant to be.

There's nothing to do here, some just whine and complain...

2011-08-19T18:13:00.000-05:00

Blogs are work. First I have to log in to blogger, and then I have to read all those blogs I'm following, and then I have to think of what to write about. Goodness. And then there's the actual writing! By the time I have a post written out, I'm far too exhausted (mentally, my dear) to edit it, which I think might be my favorite part. I edited something for someone a week or so ago and I had such a delightful time doing it. I left like half a sentence total untouched. I'm sure she was overwhelmed. She ended up scrapping the page and starting over in a different format.

Perhaps I should be an editor instead. This writing thing is agonizing.

(Title from the song Hospital Beds by Cold War Kids. Yes, it's the one that I was singing in the car on the way to the science museum.)

What is the meaning of this?!

2011-08-19T18:04:00.001-05:00

I'm trying to give up. I started a novel for Camp NaNoWriMo this month, but I haven't gotten very far in 19 days. After missing a week in the beginning as well as the last two days, my word count is suffering massively.

I thought, what if I just write anything and add it to my word count? Take up blogging again. Start a short story, related to the novel or not. Write some angry essay/rant on something. Is that cheating? Either way I'd be getting words written, which is all that matters, after all.

I don't want to cheat my way to 50k; I want to win! I still think that somehow I'll get motivation to win this thing in the last 24 hours. It's happened before to other people.

The problem is that I have nothing to say. I don't know enough about these characters or these situations, and I'm not very good at making things up. And I want it to be perfect. At least readable, because my last one was not.

Is this writer's block? Somebody, please, destroy my inner editor! I don't think that I've commited fully to finishing yet. I still am clutching to my settle-for goal of 25,000 words. I tell myself that whatever I write is more than I would have written otherwise, and all that crap.

I think I should revise it. I really really feel like revising, even though I know it's a cop-out - I can't edit a story that isn't written! I can't possibly know what is important or not before the darn thing gets finished! I'm reluctant to write, I'm reluctant to revise, and I'm reluctant to let go. And so I get nowhere.

November's NaNo was so much easier. I had the support of strangers, and write-ins, and better diversions, all of which August is lacking. This doesn't feel real! I have spent too much time in the sun and I need to clear my head of nonsense.

I have a confession to make

2011-06-07T18:59:00.000-05:00

Every time I am creating a profile on some new site I've joined, I am SO SO SO tempted to write in the About Me section:

"I like big butts and I cannot lie."

That is all.

Mr. Sun, please shine down on me.

2011-04-13T16:39:00.000-05:00

I am literally solar-powered. I get nearly all of my energy and motivation from the sun. On days when the sun doesn't come out, either do I.

It's one of those cloudy days, and the extended forecast isn't looking too good either. D:

I've been trying to run three times a week - Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, with a 6-mile bike ride on Mondays (to my piano lesson). I did it for an entire three weeks, but I didn't have time yesterday and today it is cloudy and I'm lazy. It's so much easier to be lazy.

The thing is, though, I'll feel better if I do run. My headache will go away, my body will be happy, and I can have the satisfaction of not letting myself down. Eh, fine, here I go...

Here I am

2011-04-07T22:47:00.000-05:00

I'm hiding.

I hide everything I do, everything I think or believe or desire.

From my family, from my friends. From strangers. From this blog. From myself.

I wish I could stop. I read so many great blogs written by people who live and write openly and authentically. They are out, to everyone that knows them, especially their families. I want to live like that. I want everyone to know that I'm an unschooler, that I don't believe in God, that I like to sing, that I get really upset about things that seem silly. That I don't shave anymore, that I'm afraid of approaching people (but I don't want to be), that I like LGBT fiction. Everything that makes me me. I'm emotional and socially awkward and I hate it when you talk about kids like they aren't people and I want to say something everytime you mention someone's unattractiveness. I'm opinionated, I'm beautiful despite what Revlon and Covergirl say, I like to make people laugh, and I need affection. This is me.

I want who I am to be the default, not this alternate version of me that everyone imagines. I don't want to keep perpetuating wrong assumptions, but I've been building up this false image for so long that I don't know how to break it. I'm afraid. I'm terrified. It's stupid.

So what if someone sees me cry? I cry. All the time. About really stupid things, like getting blood on my hands while putting meat in the fridge. I cry when I see the castle before a Disney movie. I cry when I read something very powerful. I cry when I write about myself.

I'm not perfect. I'm not the child my parents envisioned. Value-wise, they failed. I am not religious or Republican. I refuse to go to college. I'm a feminist. I'm a vegetarian. I'm "smart enough" to be a doctor or a scientist or a lawyer or a mathemetician, but instead I want to be a farmer. And not a rich farmer either. I want to be self-sufficient, not relying on much income to live.

There is no easy way to measure my success. I have no paper degrees. I make no money. I'm fundamentally different from the family that raised me.

Somehow, they still manage to be proud of me. I like to think that they love me unconditionally. If that is true, then why am I so afraid to tell them and everyone else who I really am? Why do I stay silent in religious or political discussions? Why can't I be proud of myself?

I don't know. But I'm sick of hiding. It hurts me more than it hurts anyone else. I don't want to hurt anymore.

The world as we don't realize it

2011-02-06T14:45:00.001-06:00

I read this blog post on laziness by ps pirro, which led me to this one by Dmitry Orlov, on how the United States is following the same pattern of collapse as the Soviet Union, and how Americans will be hit harder.

I have to admit that I don't know much of anything about the former Soviet Union. I didn't stay in school long enough to get that far in history class, and I was never interested enough to read about it on my own. Yes, believe it or not, there is a gaping hole in my education where Recent History That is Actually Relevent should be. But I am learning, and now after reading this I am actually interested.
I didn't watch the video because it's half an hour long, but I read the transcript. This is the summary:

"Dmitry Orlov, engineer and author, warns that the US's reliance on diminishing fuel supplies might be sending it down the same path the Soviet Union took before it collapsed.
"In this fifth video in the series “Peak Oil and a Changing Climate” from The Nation and On The Earth Productions, Orlov, who was an eyewitness to the collapse of the Soviet Union, asserts that as oil becomes more expensive and scarcer, the US will no longer be able to finance its oil addiction and the economy will hit a wall."

As scary as it sounds, I think this guy is onto something... I can definitely see the things he warns about happening - oil and transportation fuel will suddenly become unavailable before we are completely ready for it, money will be worth nothing, and people will not know how to get food without money and supermarkets or stocked food shelves.

Because it is so long, I will put here (somewhat disjointedly) the parts that I found most important:

"I witnessed the Soviet collapse, and then later on I couldn’t help but notice that something very similar is happening to the United States. So, as a matter of public service, I’ve tried to warn people of what to expect. But I would just like to point out that I’m not any sort of policy wonk, or a wannabe politician or an activist. All of those things are very tangential to what I’m interested in, which is basically to warn people and to equip them for what’s coming up.

The way collapse unfolds is actually very interesting, because a lot of it has to do with people’s faith in the status quo. As long as people think that there’s something in it for them, they will cooperate. As soon as they decide that there is nothing in it for them, they will cease to cooperate and the system starts to crumble, cave in on itself. So what we saw in the Soviet Union was political dysfunction where basically the communist regime was so endemically corrupt, and so out to steal as much as they could at the very end, that they really didn’t even bother paying attention to whether they kept the system going. The system was basically on autopilot until it crashed. Something similar is happening here where we have people in all branches of government, both political parties trying to prop up the financial industry, which has become completely irrelevant to most people in the United States, who don’t have savings and are not creditworthy. They’re basically trying to use up people’s savings and use up people’s retirement to prop up this set of institutions that only help the very rich people, and these very rich people are only rich on paper, they are "long paper," all of them. What they own is pieces of paper with letters and numbers on them, which will turn out to be worthless. So this is all just basically musical chairs, and something very similar was happening in the Soviet Union, and something like that is happening here.

The reason I started talking about this is because I was, frankly, very worried about the United States because I saw the United States as not nearly as well prepared for collapse as the Soviet Union. You see, the Russian people never had a great deal of faith in their government or in the system, so they grew and gathered a lot of their own food, they relied on private, personal connections, there was a very large gray or black economy that provided most of what people needed. So when the system went away, people had something to hold onto, they had their personal relationships. Also the country was set up in a way that was much more stable, with public transportation and with public housing. People were not stranded and people were not dispossessed and put out on the street and evicted. So all of those things allowed the Russians to survive collapse, and all of those things are pretty much missing in this country. Most people in this country would pretty much just be out on the street starving unless they have an income, unless they have credit cards or a bank account. They’re just woefully unprepared.

...Now a lot of the dislocation that went on in the Soviet Union really had to do with people being sort of set adrift in the official economy, and all they could fall back on was people they knew, people they could trust who would help them. The whole mindset of what’s mine and is mine and I get it by paying for it is really not very survival-oriented. One of the shocking things about Americans is that they have this innate faith that the rich people will abide, that there will always be rich people. And the rich people have bought into this dream, this idea that the various symbols that they have that tell them they’re rich—pieces of paper and things—will actually be meaningful moving forward, but it seems like the further you have to fall, the harder you will fall. So I think that the wealthy people in the United States are in for a much ruder awakening than the people who are poor already. Really the most important thing to consider is, who do you know and how will they help you even if you don’t give them any money for it. It’s as basic as that. In the case of the Russians it turned out that money was borderline irrelevant for a lot of things that people needed to survive. That’s what allowed them to survive. That’s not the case here, and its time to get very worried about that.

...The reason Washington is likely to fail is really the same reason that Moscow failed which is runaway debt and national bankruptcy....

The important thing to understand about collapse is that it’s brought on by overreach and overstretch and people being zealous and trying too hard....Now the cure of course is not to do the same thing even harder, so what people have to get used to is the idea that most things aren’t worth doing anyway and things really slow down when the economy goes away. The idea is to do the absolute bare minimum that is essential and just find interesting ways to while away the time because not much is going to be happening....

...So what people should be planning on is not slightly more expensive gasoline, or slightly less gasoline or heating oil or diesel fuel, but fuel that you might have for special occasions, so for ambulances you might have it longer than for taxis, things like that. What people should really be planning for is life without fossil fuels at all and that is actually a tall order. It takes a lot of thinking to prepare for that right now.

...The kind of goldilocks climate that has allowed human populations to swell to billions of individuals, that period of climatic history seems to have ended already. We’re in a different planet now; we’re in a different world."

The views set forth in this video really tie in to why I want to be a sustainable farmer. At age 18, the age of young status-conscious overeager consumers, money already means very little to me. That's why I don't have a job - I haven't found work that is meaningful to me, and I don't desire more money. With money, I could buy lots of stuff, yes, but I don't need or really even want more stuff. I'm also wary of saving it, because inflation is not getting any better. I could invest in gold, but that means even less to me.

Instead I am investing my time in developing skills. I am learning how to sew, knit, and embroider - I can make my own clothes. I am learning how to garden - I can grow my own food. I am learning how to cook and bake the foods I like to eat, without having to buy them pre-packaged. I am learning how to write. I am learning how to draw, and do crafty things, and make quilts and jewelry and so many other things - I can entertain myself and surround myself with beautiful things.

Someday, I'd like to be almost entirely self-sufficient, in food and in energy, and also in things. I will need very little money then, just enough to pay off my farm and for what few things I'd need to buy. If humanity's self-inflicted apocalypse comes sooner than expected, I will be prepared. I won't need to live in fear. I won't die of poverty.

So back to what Orlov is saying - "Really the most important thing to consider is, who do you know and how will they help you even if you don’t give them any money for it." Me. I will be the one that my family and friends will turn to for food if they can no longer buy it. I will be the provide them with whatever they may need that can be handmade. [I will be the one saying "I told you so."] I am willing to accept this, with one condition - whoever I help must be willing to pay it forward if they can't pay me.

On the issue of fuel...that is a bit more tricky. We don't even realize how dependent we are on fuel. Every time we go anywhere. Every time we buy something that has been transported from somewhere. Every time we eat conventionally farmed food, and even most organic food, we are depending on it. Every time we're too lazy to shovel the sidewalk and use the snowblower instead. Every time we mow the lawn. It's pervasive, how much everything depends on it. Without it, our priorities would dramatically change (for the better, I hope). Our world would look entirely different from anything we've ever seen.

But what do we do about it? Live comfortably until change happens, and then deal with it? Deprive ourselves now, hoping prepare ourselves or delay the ineveitable? I don't know. I don't have an answer for that, not even an answer for myself. I can make an effort to walk and ride my bike more, instead of going by car. I can learn to do without. I do want to learn how to farm on a larger scale without a tractor, instead using draft horses and manpower to get the job done. It might be more work, but I think it'd be more rewarding and possibly cheaper (? I haven't looked into the cost or the extra time it would require).

I guess all I can do for now is to not make the problem worse. And that I will do.

What's cal-Coo-lus?

2011-02-05T23:18:00.000-06:00

Stand and Deliver was on TV tonight. Normally I avoid television (I hate the way it demands my attention - and it's addicting!) but Stand and Deliver is the kind of movie that is worth an exception. I first saw the movie at school, in math class on a day when my teacher decided he didn't want to teach (irony?).

As IMDb describes it, "A dedicated teacher inspires his dropout prone students to learn calculus to build up their self-esteem and do so well that they are accused of cheating." Well, that's sort-of it. The students are the last people you'd expect to take a calculus class, yet they all end up passing the AP exam after many, many hours of hard work. Wikipedia describes the plot much better. And the real story (that the movie is based on) is told here.

The important part is that the teacher never told a student that he or she was too stupid or that calculus was too hard for them. He told them that it was easy and that anyone can do it. He never denied anyone a spot in his class, although the school administration urged him to when his classes got too large.

This is what a good teacher is. He believed in his students. He never gave up on them, and he wouldn't let them give up on themselves.

Telling someone they can't do something does nothing to help them. Telling someone they're stupid will never make them smarter. Confidence is never built by saying no.

The magic word is yes, after all. (Jeff Sabo, an unschooling dad, wrote a blog post that really resonated with me) (look at me, making connections everywhere!)

We need more teachers, both schoolteachers and informal teachers or mentors, that are willing to say yes. We need to be told that we are capable, that being "smart" has nothing to do with it, that our crazy big dreams are not so crazy after all. Whether we are young or old, in school or not, we need someone to tell us these things and to believe in us. Without this kind of support, we start to doubt ourselves and fall back into our comfort zones, which are sometimes not so comfortable as they seem.

There's nothing wrong with good enough, but why settle for it when you could have great? I, for one, will be making a commitment to yes, both to myself and to everyone else with an ambition.

Record keeping and breaking

2011-02-03T11:21:00.002-06:00

I've had a blog for exactly two years, to the day (and minute posted. I'm a dork.). I feel like I should do something to commemorate it. Something big. But what?

New layout? On its way. I just need to pick a font, and maybe some colors (or black and white?)...

Maybe I should change my name. Maybe I should make some long and deep post. Maybe I should list all of my best posts.

Nah. That'd be boring.

Out of curiosity, I looked at some old stuff (notebooks, planners - why do I keep those?) to see what I was doing two years ago. The answer - nothing much. Nothing real exciting. I was stuck to the idea of self-directed (self-imposed) relaxed homeschooling. I still believed that there was a certain base of knowledge that I had to acquire to be worth something. I didn't deschool long enough.

I put a lot more effort into trying to make a balanced curriculum than actually following one. In practice, I worked on the subjects that interested me - calculus, French, piano, math team, reading YA novels, iTunes (seriously, I ~~tripled~~ quintupled the size of my music library in two and a half years).

An excerpt from the log I was keeping of my daily activities:

Wednesday, Feb. 18
oh, what does it matter?
-piano lesson
Thursday, Feb. 19
-studied for bio test
-bio test [community college class]
-watched 6 cats get neutered

February 19th was an exceptional day. I look back on it fondly. Even better was the day that I saw two young horses have the same thing done to them. But bigger. With more blood. And when the vet had cut them out, he just threw them on the lawn and left them there. Yuck. Awesome. Relevant?

By April, the daily logging turned into weekly logging. I was finally reading The Teenage Liberation Handbook by Grace Llewellyn (a must for all prospective unschoolers and school-haters), and I was rethinking everything, including the self-imposed curriculum. I wrote in a short list of usual summer activities. The last week I logged was Oct. 5-11, followed by "Who cares anymore? Not me." and a list of the things I did extensively - "piano every week. books. some sewing. math team stuff. other stuff." On the next page was a rough-draft transcript that I never had the desire to finish.

As I decided not to go to college, all my record-keeping efforts were just a waste of time. I'm never going to look at them again. The only reason I keep the log is because I have my gardening notes in the same notebook, as well as about 50 empty pages. Maybe I'll rip it out, put it in a box labeled "Things I Wouldn't Mind Losing in a Fire (or Throwing-Out Frenzy)."

So many new unschoolers are worried about records and transcripts. What if a college asks for it? Yes, there's a good reason to keep records of the things you do every waking minute. But it's boring. It's tedious. It's a chore, having to remember to do it every single day! And what if the unschooler doesn't go to college? Then it's a waste of time, energy, and resentment.

And besides, most learning can not be documented. Most learning cannot even be put into words. "I learned about this" you can say, vaguely, but that says nothing about what you actually know. Yes, you could list facts, but that would take a long time, and you'd be sure to forget some. And non-verbal learning - how do you explain that? And what about all the things you know, without knowing that you know? When do you document learning those things?

Learning is everywhere. We're always learning, whether we mean to or not. Whether we document it or not. Whether we realize it or not, remember it or not, think it's important or not. It happens.

What I've learned here - I am not the same person I was two years ago. A heck of a lot has changed, for the better. I can move forward without having to worry about what I was doing the past. It's time to let go.

Symbolism and snark - more poetry analysis

2011-01-28T16:22:00.000-06:00

See previous post first.

From the book No More Homework! No More Tests!

The next poem I would like to share contains a lot of symbolism and metaphors. I really wish I would have thought to use this back in 10th grade when I had to analyze a poem and present it to the class. I was just as snarky back then, but too afraid of getting in some sort of trouble. Even a bad grade for this would've been better than the zero I got for not doing it at all (or would it have? I failed Honors English with pride).

A Remarkable Adventure by Jack Prelutsky [commentary by Molly]
I was at my bedroom table
with a notebook open wide,
when a giant anaconda [a mixture of the following: pressure, anxiety, self-doubt, perfectionism, fear of failure, depression, apathy, boredom, dread]
started winding up my side,
I was filled with apprehension
and retreated down the stairs,
to be greeted at the bottom
by a dozen grizzly bears. [math problems, book reports, essays, tests to study for, flash cards, vocab words, projects, worksheets, memorization, maps to color, chapters to read, notes to take]

We tumultuously tussled
till I managed to get free, [or give up]
then I saw, with trepidation,
there were tigers after me, [parents who enforce the ever-popular "no enjoyment of any kind until homework is done" rule]
I could feel them growing closer,
I was quivering with fear,
then I blundered into quicksand [studied]
and began to disappear. [lost and/or numbed my mind]

I was rescued by an eagle [sick!]
that descended from the skies
to embrace me with its talons, [sickkkk...]
to my terror and surprise,
but that raptor lost its purchase [no fever in the morning, always a bummer]
when a blizzard made me sneeze,
and it dropped me in a thicket [school]
where I battered both my knees.

I was suddenly surrounded
by a troop of savage trolls, [bullies]
who maliciously informed me
they would toast me over coals, [in front of everyone]
I was lucky to elude them
when they briefly looked away - [to some other unlucky kid]
that's the reason why my homework
isn't here with me today.

Story of my life, ten years of it anyway. Doing homework literally felt like wrestling bears while being tangled up in an anaconda, which is why I did it as sparingly as possible.

School, Some Suggestions

2011-01-28T15:46:00.000-06:00

I found the book No More Homework! No More Tests! Kids' Favorite Funny School Poems today, and I thought I'd skim through to see if any of the poems were actually funny (eh). Most of them are harmless, about notoriously unidentifiable cafeteria food, pretending to be sick in order to miss a test, or having toilet paper stuck to your shoe. But a few of them cut right to the point -

Here is an explanation as to why kids are so apathetic:

A Student's Prayer (Anonymous)
Now I lay me down to rest.
I pray I pass tomorrow's test.
If I should die before I wake,
that's one less test I'll have to take.

Some people might think that's a joke. I believe it's a serious cry for help.

This one is my favorite:

School, Some Suggestions by Bobbi Katz
If kids could be the teachers,
if kids could make the rules,
there'd be a lot of changes made
in almost all the schools.
First thing they'd stop the homework.
They'd never give a test.
They know that growing children
must have their proper rest.
They'd make the lunchtime longer -
let's say from twelve to two,
so every growing boy or girl
had time enough to chew!

Of course, concerning recess,
kids clearly realize
to keep their bodies healthy,
kids need to exercise.
And so there would be recess,
perhaps from nine to ten,
and then when it is two o'clock
it's recess time again!
With longer, stronger weekends,
each child would grow so smart -
he would perform with excellence
in music, gym, and art!

This is the direction school reform should take. Does any child disagree with these suggestions? Perhaps recess should be made even longer.

There are so many poems in this collection about school and test anxiety and not wanting to do homework. These feelings are universal, not only in children, but adults too! So why is nothing being done about it? Why are schools so resistant to change, to improvement?

What's even worse, the back cover of this book features glowing reviews from teachers, the very people who have the most power - and fear - to change the system.

My best friend is 10 years older than me.

2011-01-24T21:37:00.000-06:00

We shared a room for 6 years. We'd stay up at night, talking, musing, gossiping, and laughing. She taught me the Thong Song and the words "hot" and "sexy." I hated her boyfriends for the requisite amount of time. When she got a job, she bought me more stuff than I deserved. The first check she ever wrote was to me, because she was so excited to have her own checkbook. I went to her colorguard practices so often, I was their nearly-official mascot. All of her friends were my friends. She put my name on all of her Christmas presents. She told me everything she knew about the stars and psychology and Women's Self-Defense (her favorite college class). We spied on our neighbor mowing his lawn shirtless. We did everything together. We still do everything together, even though she is married with a kid.

I have different relationships with each of my three sisters. They are all so different from each other and from me. If we weren't sisters, we probably would hate each other. But because we grew up together, played and laughed and struggled together, and spent so much time together learning everything about each other, we are inseperable. Sure, we claim to hate each other sometimes, but we could never stop getting together. Our love goes too deep. I can't imagine life without even one of them. They are truly my best friends.

We love brother too. He always gets left out of sisterly things. It's hard to be the only boy of four girls.

Even though two sisters have moved out (and bro lives at college half an hour away), we still can't go more than two or three days without seeing each other. They always come around for lunch or dinner or just to hang out (and eat all the food in the house).

I feel bad for only children. They'll never know what they're missing out on. Siblings are entirely different than friends, no matter how good of friends they are. I suppose being an only child has benefits, like...something, I'm sure...more attention? More surveillance, really. More money alloted? I guess, but then money starts to become really important. Having your own room is great, but sharing is fun too. More independence is something an only child would presumably have. Stronger friendships, too, because they don't have a best friend at home.

That's all I've got for now. I guess I'll have to think on that. Get a little perspective. I'm probably severely lacking in perspective.

I'm an animal

2011-01-19T21:02:00.000-06:00

From Kimya Dawson's album Alphabutt. Her children's music just may be even better than her Juno soundtrack music. It's AWESOME. It's all about butts and farts and poop and peeing and...that's serious stuff when you're a kid. Seriously funny stuff. I still giggle sometimes at loud farts. teehee.

No hard feelings

2011-01-14T00:24:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I went into my closet to get a book on drawing horses. I knew right where it was; it had been there for years. Everything in that closet had been there for years.

I have two closets in my bedroom. One is little more than a hole in the wall, with a shelf on top and a bar to hang clothes on. The other is larger, with a furnace and pipes that shut off the hose outside. I used to have an end table in there with a desktop computer. I'd sit in there for hours. It was my hideout.

I decorated it with Halloween lights, pictures of horses cut out from calendars, and all sorts of weird things (no, really). The floor started accumulating (ahem, storing) all of the junk that I had no place for in my room. After I took the computer out, I stopped going in there regularly, except to put in more crap that might be useful someday.

I saved every notebook and folder I used school since 7th grade. Facts were the only thing I got out of school, and throwing them away just didn't seem right. All that time spent memorizing and solving and spewing. All that knowledge I might need some day. I might want to remember about what went down at Seneca Falls (something bout suffrage) and what the name of the theorem is that says two congruent (equal) triangles have equal angles (...duh?). This is potentially important stuff! So what if a Google search could find it in less time? Google doesn't have snarky comments in the margins. It's not the same.

I never actually used any of it, except for my algebra 2 notes to help a friend bring up a test score. We went to Starbucks and mostly just talked. She did get a better grade, though.

Yesterday, I threw all of it out.

The door to the closet and the door to my room are at a right angle. When both are open, they meet in the middle. It's awkward, and I have to move my trash can, and I have to reach way over for the light switch...basically, it's not easy to get into. I don't ever really have a reason to go in there anymore, except to put something in or take something out - like that horse drawing book.

Somehow, the closet flooded. We haven't figured out why. The water doesn't seem to be coming from the furnace, but it could be. Or it could be from outside. The leftover pink carpet that I had duct taped in was all wet and moldy, as was everything on the floor. I put on some rubber gloves and a scarf/makeshift face mask, and grabbed a trash bag.

I was ruthless. I threw almost everything out - three bags full! That's a lot of junk! And it felt sooo good.

All of those notebooks - gone. All of my 7th grade memories that I'd rather forget - gone. That bag of stuff that I'll never use but just couldn't get rid of - gone.

Liberating! (and the book I went for survived, completely dry)

All of the carpet has been ripped out (thanks, brother!). Nothing has been done about the water yet... (thanks Dad. In his defense, he has been sick for the last few days. Everyone has but me.) I'm sleeping in our not guestworthy enough to be called a guest bedroom until the problem is resolved and the moldiness has been aired out. Guest is one of those words that look really weird when you think about them too hard.

I read this post about choosing a word to guide your new year, rather than making a nagging resolution. The word in the example, release, called to me much more than any other. I thought that I could really benefit from releasing some bitterness, feelings, attachments... I didn't expect that the first thing I would release would be so much STUFF! But I'm very glad I did. I don't have to worry about all the potentially embarrassing words I once wrote, or my unhappiness during those years, or the facts that mean nothing to me. Remembering the details of high school and junior high won't make me a better person or more in touch with who I was. Keeping it alive is a burden I no longer have to bear.

My closet flood predicament has a bright side!

The silence wasn't awkward until you pointed it out.

2011-01-06T18:46:00.000-06:00

I don't like to talk.

And sometimes I quite despise it.

Even around my best friends - the people with whom I am most comfortable - I still have nothing to say.

It's like I'm missing that inborn topic generator that everyone else seems to have.

Sure, I'll speak if spoken to.
I can carry on a debate, or add to someone else's discussion.

But expecting me to initiate conversation is not fair.
I just can't think of a single thing to talk about.

Why I'll never go

2011-01-05T21:21:00.001-06:00

My views on college have changed drastically.

When I was younger, I longed for the day that I would go off to college and finally learn something. I craved an intellectual challenge. Something, anything! Elementary school sucked. High school was horrendously boring and useless. But college would be different! The people would be smarter and cooler! The classes would be fun and challenging and interesting! I would be happier, having found my place in the world!

I felt the same way about college as I once had about high school, and middle school before that. I put a lot of energy into dreaming about it, and planning out my major, my classes, the clubs I would join, the life I would have…

But I was hit hard with disappointment when 7th grade was barely different from 3rd. And high school classes lost all their novelty when they were chosen for me. Still, college would be different, wouldn't it? The people would somehow be smarter, the classes more challenging?

Even if not, I thought that it was the only way, or at least the better way. Everyone goes to college nowadays. It's expected, especially of people like me who are "smart." It would be easier for me later in life if I had a degree. Maybe college would be fun, or at the very least exciting.

But I live in an exciting world as it is. Why should I have to leave my family just to find adventure? There is boundless adventure lurking just outside my window!

Blah blah blah experiences. Opportunities. Finding one's self.

I wasn't lost to begin with! I haven't felt lost for a single moment since leaving school. I know who I am now, and it's not the person that I would have found had I gone out looking. I have context outside of school. I am confident in myself, in my strengths and interests. I know what works for me and what doesn't. Anything school-like certainly doesn't!

I was fully planning on applying to colleges, but I just couldn't bring myself to actually do it. At the time, I thought it was just laziness, but I realize now that it was resistance.

It's such a relief to know that by not applying, I did the right thing for me. "You'll never know until you try" - unless you know yourself in both contexts. I know myself well enough to say that I could never be completely happy in school, no matter how much "fun" it may be. Partial happiness is worth nothing when the real thing is easily available.

So what if I miss out on the "college experience?" All those things that I presumably could not do elsewhere, like…
-Studying abroad (are they restricting airline tickets to students now?),
-Living with a stranger (although I'm sure I could find someone willing on Craigslist), or
-Joining a host of useless clubs (of which the purpose is…?).
-Tyrannosaurus debt? No thank you! I'd rather spend the $100k on farmland.
-Grown-up high school classes - can't I just read the $200 book? I suppose no one else does.
-Erm, buying my own groceries (with my parents' money).
-Living in a college town and rarely getting off campus.
What else is there? What makes the college experience so important? A first-year seminar with people I'll never talk to again?

I suppose I'm missing out on some great way-too-heavily funded research projects. Except I want to be a sustainable farmer, so what good would research do? Genetic modification and synthetic chemicals are not sustainable. Anything else I can do on my own terms.

Maybe it works for some people. Maybe it's easier for some people later on. Maybe it's "right" for some people. But it isn't right for me. It isn't the only way, and whether it is the "better" way is debatable. But hey, you'll never know unless you try both ways.

Does anyone know where the time goes? Does it even go at all?

2010-12-30T20:11:00.007-06:00

Most years I make New Year's Resolutions. Most years, I forget them after a few days. Whatever.

The only real success I had was 2009, when I vowed to read 100 books (and wrote it down, with rules and a numbered list). Even so, I only read 89.

So this year will be different (just like every year previous...haha). I will not be making resolute resolutions. My commitment will be optional at every moment throughout 2011. Also like every other year, but this time I will admit it!

I can't believe 2010 is almost over. I swear, the New Year's Party was like four months ago...(those months being December, November, October, and July)

Non-commital 2011: Ideas and suggestions for the year

(I particularly like the title. It makes it sound more serious/frivolous. It's like, what's the word? Juxtaposition? Sort of. Or not.)

-Here is the obvious. I shall have it in all capital letters, so it not be missed. WRITE MORE. Like every day or so. Especially when there is nothing better to do.

-Blog more. For the last few months I've been blogging on average about once a week - that's surprising to me! Keep it up! Attain a following. Two is hardly a following, although I am very grateful that they (you) care at least that much. Thank you! It helps.

-Write two novels (first drafts, at least). One during NaNoWriMo, and the other in the ten months before. Also, assess 2010's NaNo novel for revision potential. (i.e. how much does it [not] suck?)

-Apply to work at Disney World. Yes, phone interviews are VERY SCARY, but it will be worth it. And I belong there. The magic is calling...

-Actually sew throughout the year, not just in the two weeks before Christmas when I am too lazy to shop. Maybe sell stuff on Etsy? Like pot holders because they are surprisingly enjoyable (and quick!) to make?

-While I'm at it, perhaps I should look for a job. Especially because Dad's unemployment is running out...

-It would be cool to submit a piece of writing somewhere. Bleh work/effort/ambition. But also excitement/accomplishment/cre-den-tials.

-Take writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis. This may/will depend on me getting a job. But hey, it's cheaper than college!

-Enter something in the county and/or state fair. County will accept aprons, dish towels, and pillowcases (what I usually sew and embroider), but the state fair will not. Perhaps a quilt? The county fair has a category for first-ever quilts, and the state fair has a prize. And it would be really cool to see somthing I made hanging at the second biggest and first best state fair in country. Who else has fried Spam on a stick? Where else would anyone even eat fried Spam on a stick?! It's right next to the fried fruit on a stick, which is delicious. Which is right by this, and across from that, and this one time...

-I do want to make my first quilt. I got a book on it for Christmas, and I have already practiced on some pot holders that I gave to my sisters. My quilt will be fun and completely non-old ladyish (except in definition, of course).

So many more things too. I will be adding to this list hopefully, but if not, this post will be autoposted on Dec. 30 at 20:11 (I am so [not] clever). And I will go, "Oh yeah, that. I was going to work on that sometime..."

Serves me right.

Happy New Year! Hope it is at least as good as the last, if not better. Or at least quite decent. Er, just don't have a bad one.

OH MY GOSH THE GARDEN SEED CATALOGUES JUST CAME! Couldn't they at least wait until we are fully immersed in January?

tru dat

2010-12-29T22:59:00.000-06:00

This video is about how school makes the simple act of forming letters on paper into a complicated process.

I hated having to write letters on that big lined paper that schools use. Nobody writes like that past the age of ten. Nobody adds the little curls at the ends of all the straight letters and loops their k's. (Actually, I do know one person. And it drives me nuts!) It looks stupid. And who uses cursive past 6th grade?

I also know two adults who write in all capital letters. If they can get away with it, why can't kids?

Purpose - Why bother?

2010-12-27T21:47:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago, my sister was complaining that she had no purpose in life. She's 26 and doesn't have a career or a degree. She finds jobs she likes, but quits them after a year for silly reasons - they aren't nice to her, or she doesn't like going to training. She's tried four different colleges and countless majors, but has never been able to stick with it.

She feels like nothing she does makes any difference in the world. There are so many people out there, many younger than her, doing great things for others. They have purpose. She has none.

My other sister basically told her to stop feeling sorry for herself and just do something already. Quit waiting around for a purpose to find you. You do so many things that impact everyone around you - you make us laugh, you brighten up a room. Why must you attach a "purpose" to yourself? What is the purpose of anything?

I would've said all these same things, but I am not good at talking to people. Not even my sisters, although it is easier with them. That is me, good at everything except...anything that requires interaction with other people. What is my purpose, if I have trouble sharing with others?

What is the purpose of anything at all? Why must everything be done for a reason? I find the most enjoyable pursuits are the things that I do just for the sake of doing them.

I am often asked why I run. It hurts. It's hard. It takes motivation, and energy, and planning, and time. It doesn't get me anywhere. I'm not training for anything. So why bother?

I run because I enjoy it. I run because I love the way my body feels when I am pushing myself to go faster and farther. I love the way the ground feels underneath my bare feet. I run for the sake of running.

Why read books? For the sake of reading, that's why! Because reading is enjoyable! Sure, there infinite knowledge to be gained. What a wonderful side effect.

Far too many children and children who have grown up to become adults hate reading. They have been taught that reading is done first and foremost for information. That is the most important reason to read, and only after the text is read can reading be done for pleasure.

No wonder test scores are dropping! No wonder bookstores are closing! By the time children are allowed to read for the fun of, they have come to resent it! I was lucky - I loved books years before I went to school, and somehow contiunued to read despite (and instead of) school.

Another example is volunteering. Why volunteer? Because it makes you a better person? For volunteer hours, so you can get some kind of recognition? Those are the wrong reasons entirely. You might as well call it philanthropy.

No, we volunteer to help out. It feels good to notice how much cleaner the streets are becoming. It feels good to know that someone will enjoy the hat you are knitting. It's wonderful to make animals happier, and besides, it's fun. Volunteering feels good, and it needs to be done. It is it's own purpose.

Everything is purpose in itself. Everything I can think of is better enjoyed when done just for the sake of doing it - drawing, playing, writing, cleaning, working, laughing, sleeping, learning, observing, calculating, experimenting, memorizing...wait a minute. This list is starting to sound like school! But the key difference is that everything in school is done for a specific purpose - to build a base of knowledge (or to improve test scores. Depends on who you ask.). Nothing is done for pure enjoyment, and enjoyment is gotten out of very little of it.

I suppose it can be said that unschooling is just doing things for the purpose of doing. Doing things because they are fun or interesting or exciting or just new. Doing things because they are challenging or comforting. Doing things because they don't matter, so why not give it a try?

It's only logical that people are the same way as everything else. Why should we live for any purpose at all, except to live? Why get so hung up on needing accomplishment or lots of money or a clean house fergahssake? Why not just live because life can be really enjoyable sometimes, if you let it? Why not just live because other people care about you, and you care about them? Why not just live every day to be happy, instead of worrying about what you will do tomorrow or next week or when you can no longer pay the rent? Worry about it when the time comes, and stop wasting your life already!

When did this turn into a rant? I am just writing for the sake of writing, if you cannot tell. I like to write and I have something to say, even if it is not always evident. Why stop, even if I'm not any good?

If gay were a choice, I'd choose Tegan & Sara

2010-12-20T23:32:00.000-06:00

Just sayin'.

And, OMG, Sara (the first one) has the same haircut as me. And a matching eyebrow scar. It's like FATE. We belong together (almost). If I can fight off 90% of their YouTube commenters who are similarly straight and crushing.

Yes, I have been watching all of their music videos for the last two hours. I love them that much. They have not a single song that I don't like.

My current love is "Someday" from their most recent album, Sainthood.
"Might paint something I might want to hang here someday
Might write something I might want to say to you someday
Might do something I'd be proud of someday
Mark my words, I might be something someday"

Mark my words, I might be something someday.

Music self-education

2010-12-20T21:11:00.000-06:00

Everyone should have access to music in their lives. The radio is not enough. An iPod is better, but it is not near enough.

A willingness to try is necessary. Easy for unschoolers, harder for many people who are afraid of failing/sounding bad/feeling stupid. It's hard for me, but I am letting go of the fear.

Every person should have a piano or a guitar or a harmonica or a kazoo. Violins sound beautiful, but are tough to learn on one's own (I tried). A trumpet, a saxophone, a banjo, a drum. Something. Anything!

Lessons are not necessary for enjoyment. I think they can actually be harmful in some cases. Kids who are forced into uninteresting lessons will probably hate it, and be turned off for many years to come. Being told to practice for half an hour every day won't make you play any better if you aren't enjoying what you are playing. And that half hour will likely be wasted by all the squirming and clock-watching.

But if you are drawn to the way an instrument sounds... If you pick it up because you would like to someday play it well (for pleasure), or if you just like to play around with it, and see what happens...

Then every minute with the instrument will be well spent. And if you're enjoying it, and want to learn proper technique or just get some feedback, then a few lessons will do good. But so will an informal session with a knowledgeable friend, if you have one.

John Holt (the former teacher who coined the term "unschooling") wrote a book about fooling around with instruments and learning to play as an adult. I haven't read it yet, but I've been meaning to. The library actually has it, so I have no excuse (except that I haven't paid my fines...).

Lessons can be great when they are wanted. Pieces will be perfected (and possibly memorized) to a perfomance standard. Relevant music theory will be taught (and there are many good books if you are interested). Good technique will improve sound, and this is hard to learn (and be reminded of) from a book. And a good teacher will become a mentor and a friend.

But unwanted lessons will soon become resented. Lessons "because they are good for you" will quickly be resented. Beethoven's Ode to Joy will lose it's charm.

I took piano lessons in 1st-3rd grades, but I didn't enjoy them. It was too easy and therefore BORING. I never practiced and always played well enough at the next week's lesson. Then my teacher gave me harder books because my mom talked to her about it. I still didn't practice, so the pieces were too hard and therefore STILL BORING. So I quit.

In 7th grade, we got a baby grand piano. Before all we had was an electric organ (not so fun) and an electric keyboard (the built-in music was fun). I love that piano. I don't know what I would do without it.

I was in the school choir at the time. We were singing "Here I Am" from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. It's one of my favorite movies and my favorite soundtrack. I still love the soundtrack and score - it captures the spirit of a horse so well. I used to take my sheet music home and try to play along with it. I hadn't played piano in years, though, so it was hard. I had to write in all of the note names. I learned to play chords so I could have something to back up the melody - the piano line was too difficult. All I knew of chord theory was that a chord is roughly 1-3-5, and that was all I needed to learn the song.

Once I could play that song, I started attempting other music we had - Disney songs, musicals that I knew, Christmas music. I brought home all of my choir music to play and sing with. Very quickly, I was playing better than I had left off with. And I was loving it!

I still have my copy of "Here I Am." Yes, I stole it. And I still have the introduction memorized, six years later. I can play the accompaniment now, after all these years of playing and 4 1/2 years of lessons. I often play for two to three hours at a time, just for the fun of it. Sometimes I even forget to play my lesson pieces!

If you want to play songs, but don't have or can't read the music, then try playing along while listening to them. Try to find the notes on your instrument. It takes practice, but every note found is a small success. Your ear will improve - it's a wonderful surprise when you can find a note on the first try! And you will learn all about intervals and key signatures without even knowing it! And then come the chords and chord progressions.

If you think you can't play instruments, well, it is not true. You can sing. The voice is the easiest instrument to play - you already know how to make every note, and how to match a note you hear, even if it is in a different octave. You can sing loudly or softly, legato or staccato, without having to practice. Very few people are actually tone deaf, and it can be overcome with practice. Singing is a wonderful way to be connected to music, even if you will only do it when no one else is home.

Hmm, this isn't the post I was intending to write tonight... Funny how that happens.

Winter Wonderland? Let It Snow? Grandma Got Ran Over by a Snow Plow?

2010-12-11T19:30:00.001-06:00

It was ridonkulously snowy in Minnesota today. We got about 100 feet and three inches of snow DUMPED on us. That may or may not be an exaggeration. The dumping certainly isn't.

I love those trees. They got all bent over last year. See that fence? A regular picket fence size. That's how high the snow is. The phantom lights on the right side of the photo are from the tree's reflection in the window. It was too wet to actually go outside and take pictures. And I'm lazy.

I googled for a more accurate snowfall measurement, but I can't find any useful information (within two clicks). So far we've gotten somewhere between 2 and a bajillion inches. (Well I could've toldja that!) Every weather advisory possible has been issued. There are "near blizzard conditions." More snow is expected. Blah blah blah.

There is more snow than mailbox. HahahahahahaIloveit. Taken from inside the door, which explains the weird snowiness.

I did venture outside for a bit. Not by choice. My sister made me go to her house to decorate her tree "because I do such a good job." She has been begging me all week and saying she'd pay me a hundred dollars. Then when I was done, she said, "Are you really going to demand payment?" To which I replied, "Are you really gonna pay me??" No money was actually exchanged, just cookies. I not so casually mentioned that Christmas is coming (i.e. presents!).

My brother-in-law's truck got stuck in the snow and had to be shoveled out. The four wheel drive he was so proud of failed him ("That's why we drive Chevys," he had said). The snow was all the way up to the step up thingies.

It's weird to say that I have a brother-in-law. I don't feel old enough yet. Maybe when I'm forty or so.

Oh, just heard it on the radio - Plows and buses have been pulled off the roads because of dangerously low visibility. Travel is not advised. And the Mall of America closed! WOW.

Lasts create firsts

2010-12-10T02:43:00.000-06:00

I want to write more about unschooling. I read a lot of unschooling blogs and I really enjoy them, so I would like to contribute. And the only way to become an unschooling blogger is to...just do it. The followers will come later (maybe).

I have three posts currently in drafts that need a LOT of revision (mostly cutting). Soon. Hopefully.

To start them off, here is my beginning. Background is always good, no?

Summer has never been my favorite season weather-wise, but like every person between 5 and 18, I loved it unconditionally. Sleep. Freedom!

The last day I went to school was some dreadful day too far into June, in 2008. It should have been a happy occasion, but it wasn't until 2:20. Like every school day for the past ten years, it suddenly became better as soon as that last bell rang.

I didn't think it of my last ever day of school. I had hoped and dreamed, but I couldn't quite believe it. The original plan was to forego tenth grade altogether.

But I was too afraid to speak up. It's the only regret I have ever had.

Not this year. "I'm not going back," I told my mom. At least once a week, I tried to make this very clear. "I refuse to. Sign me up all you want, but I will not go. I'll skip if I have to."

She looked for alternatives, but not hard enough. In fact, she looked hardly. She brushed me off. She'd worry about it later.

I was getting desperate. It was the beginning of August, and school registration was in a week. I couldn't go. I tried very hard to slow the days down, but we all know that never works.

Just one person took me seriously, but it was enough. She gave me the support I needed, and talked to my mom, her sister.

Sometimes, a sister can get through much better than a daughter can.

We "missed" school registration day. I counted the hours until it was over, still afraid that I'd have to go.

On the first day of school, I was registered as a homeschooler within the district. It was a huge relief to me, and one of the better ways to spend a "first day of school."

As to the legal requirements, my mom said, "I can't believe that's all we have to do." She still feels like we've dodged some requirement. Just this week, she mentioned that she's afraid I'll be counted as a drop-out statistic.

Being labeled a drop-out is the least of my worries. I rose out with honor, and I don't need to prove that to anyone else.

It doesn't add up

2010-12-01T23:28:00.000-06:00

If you like or hate or are indifferent to math (as taught in school), then you should read this. If you have ever been labeled "good at math" or "bad at math," then you should read this. If you have ever thought that math is stupid, then you should read this.

Lockhart's Lament

It's about mathematics, real mathematics, and how vastly it differs from what you were taught in school.

I must admit that I have done math for the pure joy of it. Only once or twice, and timidly. But I have some sort of idea of what he means when he says that math is a creative art. It makes me really want start playing with numbers and patterns again - they've always fascinated me, but I'm so afraid of making a mistake, or not being smart enough to figure something out. Lies. It's all lies. Learning is impossible without mistakes.

I wordled.

2010-11-27T20:09:00.000-06:00

Click it for a better picture.

This is what my novel is all about. Apparently.

I like that "Ye" made the cut.

2010-11-16T22:56:00.000-06:00

Noveling is awesome. I'm ready to start my second, and I'm only halfway through my first!

Most of my words are utter crap, but who cares? At least I will have something to laugh about when I read it. I'm going to have A LOT of serious revision to do to make this thing comprehendable. In the words of my revered aunt, "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it." Um...

I would like to share an excerpt that I am particularly, erm, proud? of. I was writing quickly and possible padding my word count, but in a fair way, I assure you. This is what NaNo is all about.

Warning: It kinda sucks right now. This is not my best work. It is unedited and deprived of caffiene. Like everything I post on this blog. hahahahashutup.

I am really resisting the urge to [comment] on my cliched word choice and whatnot, but I won't do it.

I grabbed his hand and dragged him up to the door. "Do we knock, or just walk right in?" I asked. "This is your house."

"Knock," he answered. He didn't take any initiative, so I did it for him. Rap, rap, rap. [added for word count value only]

A middle-aged woman answered the door. She had medium-length straight blond hair, and lines on her face. She looked haggard, but tried to hide it with a bright smile for her unexpected visitors.

Her face dropped when she saw Will. All she said was, "Oh." She stood there for a moment, her eyes welling with tears for her baby. She reached out and smothered him with a hug big enough to encompass both of us, and Santa Claus too. She held him for a very long time, stroking his back and his head, and sobbing quietly into his shoulder.

"Who's there?" asked a man's voice from inside the house.

I stood there dumbly on the doorstep. I sure do that a lot. I should learn how to stand intelligently, or mysteriously, or suspiciously, or something. I feel awfully dumb standing dumbly.

Footsteps from within approached the doorway. The voice said something along the lines of, "Oh, dear God!" but of course he wouldn't have actually used the Lord's name in vain. Because that is a sin. A deadly one. No, wait, it's a commandment. Whatever. If it were a pirate speaking, he would've said, "Shiver me timbers!" which is totally easier, but this was not a pirate, this was a God-fearing man. Also, he was a pirate-fearing man.

Will's mother looked up towards the voice. The man behind the voice came into my view. His sparse dark hair sat in patches around his neck, surrounding a bright, shiny mirror on the top of his head. He was a bit portly, with a big, happy beef-roast-and-potatoes-every-Sunday-for-dinner belly. He awkwardly approached his long-lost son, unsure of whether he should embrace him, or pat him on the back, or wait to shake his hand. His wife wasn't ready to let go, so the man settled for a combo half-hug and pat. He pulled away quickly and stood almost as dumbly as I was standing.

hahahahahahahaha forget that you ever read that. Seriously. I have forgotten already. Who wrote that? What?
Oh, and Will is the pirate. Little Red Riding Hood is the narrator/voice we hear/whatever. Will ran away from home 5 years ago and is coming back for the first time. Not sure how this is relevant to the original story. I have a quote for that too.

I didn't sleep well, but I didn't really expect to. I was on a pirate ship, after all. I had dreams about drowning and wolves and fresh baked cookies and how is this relevant? How is any of this relevant? I feel like I've already asked this question. Like every THOUSAND WORDS or so. Eh, whatever.

I think I might just end up turning this novel into Will's story. He's really interesting me right now. Or maybe I'll do a Barbara Kingsolver move and have all these random characters and then show how their lives intersect. That'd be sweet. Although I'd probably ditch the wolf, unless he has some troubled childhood or something. That reminds me, he hasn't been mentioned for about 10,000 words or so...

31022 words today. Getting closer! I can smell the victory!

It's Beginning to Look Too Much Like Christmas...

2010-11-16T22:31:00.000-06:00

There's snow on the ground here in Minnesota.

I don't think I'm ready.

It snowed, no, dumped on Saturday. It was the biggest pre-Thanksgiving snowfall the Twin Cities has had since the famed Halloween blizzard of '91. We officially got 8 inches. Now it has melted down to like half that, but the ground is still WHITE.

My sister came over on Sunday and brought all of the Christmas decorations out of the attic. My mom has a Christmas party the first week of December for an organization she belongs to (but rarely shows up to the meetings for...), so we have an excuse to get it up early. But this just feels too early. Because I was in Florida for most of October, I missed a lot of fall. I got like a week of leaves and apples, and then it got cold.

I am listening to Christmas music, though. It's good almost any time of year. And it's on the radio! Local station 102.9 has been playing it all week. "The most commercial-free Christmas music for your lunch hour!" they say. Also the ONLY.

Listen

2010-11-07T20:54:00.000-06:00

I clicked on this after seeing "Love Letter to Albuquerque Public Schools" on Idzie's blog. Slam poetry is probably my favorite kind of performance art. It can't be faked like everything else can.

Hir is a gender neutral pronoun, along with ze or zie.

"Hir"

I know someone who is struggling to let everyone know who ze is. And EVERYONE refuses to listen, refuses to see hir as anything but the girl ze was born as. They will not use the name ze chose for hirself, will not accept that ze will only wear boy clothes and is only interested in boyish things. Ze will hit puberty real soon, making hir life hell. It sucks. It really sucks.

The best part was, he did a card trick for her with REAL MAGIC...and failed. hahahahaha

2010-11-07T14:49:00.000-06:00

NaNoWriMo is going swimmingly. I'm over 12,000 words right now, something that I have been coveting every time I see it on someone's word count on the NaNo forums.

I still can't quite believe that I am doing this, and doing so well. I've never had the motivation to do anything this big before, and I haven't even doubted my ability to do it yet! This is the first time I have realized the effects of unschooling in myself. It's truly amazing what it (and I) can do.

I am procrastinating right now because I have hit my word count and because I am reluctant to get to the next big scene.

Spoilers? Yes?

My story is based on Little Red Riding Hood. Red (her stand-in name, because I haven't picked something better yet) is about 15 years old. She's running away from home and going to stay at her grandma's house. I didn't want her to get to Gma's too quickly, because then the story would be over in 10k words, and then what would I write about? So she met the wolf in the woods, had some awkward and unexplainable night with him that desperately needs to be edited (next month). That sounds sexual, but I promise you it is not. I am trying to leave that out of my story because I am writing for middle grade readers (ages 8-12).

Red snuck away from the wolf, blah blah. She met this other guy who just happened to save her life (again), which annoys her because she doesn't need a hero, she's a feminist. But this guy really is a nice helpful guy and helps her out. He's kinda boring and flawless, but I'm sure I can find some kind of fault to give him. Anyway, this guy says "Guess what, you have witch blood and therefore can do magic! And the whole world is lying to you, etc. And oh yeah, did I forget to mention that you are the Chosen One who will save us all from IMPENDING DOOM?!" I really did refer to it as IMPENDING DOOM, as vague as that may be. I haven't worked out all the deets yet.

He tells her pretty much the entire history of the magic and human worlds in the last few hundred years. I will not repeat it here, because it is a long story...haha pun.

Basically, 20 of my 30 pages are all dialogue. And I didn't even think I was any good at dialogue... I guess it depends on the characters - this guy loves to hear himself talk. And I love it too, because it really helps my word count.

So, anyways, this story is about Little Red Riding Hood. It really is. We (as in, the characters and I) understand the wolf's motives a little better today, and why he didn't eat Red right away. Turns out he is connected to this IMPENDING DOOM and kinda pissed her off, so she cursed him so he couldn't eat for 3 days. That explains Grimm's story anyway. And I'm working on getting Red her signature red cloak. An old witch lady is making it as we speak.

I haven't brought her to Grandma's house yet. I'm putting that off because then I have to get into REAL ACTION and that can be quite intimidating to someone who has been writing 6 days worth of safe, easy dialogue.

Also, Grandma is dead and I don't know how to write Red's reaction. And then I don't know what she's going to do - train for battle? Fall in love with cottage guy? Say "this world sucks!" and go back to the non-magical world?

Blahblahblahrantrantrant.

The only way to delay this is to make the night last longer...

What do people who live in cottages do for fun? He has no tv or computer because he's not interested in those things, and he lives alone. And he lives in a cottage in the woods because this is a storybook world. Duh.

What do two people who are not dating do for fun?

What brilliant topic can they talk about next? HahahaNO.

Sigh.

Day three of noveling glee!

2010-11-03T22:02:00.000-05:00

I love writing a novel. No, I LOVE WRITING A NOVEL!!!

I love sitting down and having words and ideas just come to me. So far, it's been practically effortless. And so enjoyable! Who knew? Why didn't I try this before?

Oh yeah. Lack of motivation, self-confidence, story ideas, blah blah blah. NaNoWriMo doesn't allow that. Having a deadline, and 172,000 people (along with countless family members and friends) expecting you to be making serious progress on that deadline, doesn't allow any time for an inner editor or laziness. It doesn't matter what you write, so long as you do it!

And that's what I love about NaNoWriMo. I am a total convert. I will be doing this for many years. It's so thrilling to be a part of something so big, and so great for everyone who participates.

Unfortunately, I've hit the point (for the third time today) where I don't know what I want to do next. I know where the story is going, loosely, but I have to make some big decisions about the world my story is set in. I have to decide if it's modern or historical (modern, by default), what kind of magic exists (that's right, magic!), what this guy's house looks like (a cottage), if he has electricity (I don't know enough to take it away from him), and so much more. It's tough! I can see why writers without a deadline and their reputation on the line are so very tempted to give up. I can't even decide on names! Currently, the good guy is called "Man." haha.

I went to a write-in on the first day. I didn't know anyone there, and I was very afraid that no one would show up and it would be just me and the guy who organized it. Luckily, other people did show up. There were even three young women in their twenties that came later. They all knew each other, and had done NaNo before, so they talked, but the rest of us mostly just wrote in silence, with or without headphones. I actually got a lot done, even though I felt a bit self-conscious. I'm glad I went.

Every time I go somewhere and see someone typing on a laptop, I get excited and wonder if they are doing NaNoWriMo too. I haven't asked anyone, but I so want to. I really like feeling that I am not alone in this world. And I get excited about small things. Like stickers (I so want the NaNo stickers).

Word count so far: 4985. Today's goal is 5001. Better get back to work!

Why the hell not? That's what this month is all about.

2010-11-01T00:37:00.000-05:00

It's a bit after midnight, November 1. NaNoWriMo has officially begun!

I am so excited to write this novel. SO EXCITED! I'm downright giddy! Being hyped up on Halloween candy just amplifies my glee... I can't sleep. It's all I can think about, and I know that it would be useless to stay in bed. So I got up, turned my laptop back on, and I am going to begin. Why the hell not? Bedtimes don't exist in November. If I'm tired in the morning, it means I was productive. I'll just drink more coffeee!

The problem is, I don't know where to begin. I don't even know if I want to write in 1st or 3rd person. But what does it matter? I can always switch at anytime. I can always go back and write a better first chapter. I'm going to edit everything anyway, so why bother going for perfection, or even halfway decent?

I'm going to write a novel. I'M WRITING A NOVEL!!!! I feel like I should throw myself a party! This is a huge dream of mine, and it's beginning!!! WHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Okay, I will shut up and just do it. I am going to begin my novel. wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...!!!

Blah blah blah more about me - wait, isn't this whole blog about me?

2010-10-23T22:07:00.000-05:00

So, I've been meaning to write this post for like two weeks now... I am so lazy. I seriously do nothing all day except think of things that I can put off until tomorrow.

I wanted to tell EVERYONE IN THE WORLD how wonderful my birthday lunch was, how awesome I felt, how sweet Matteo was. But I am in a funk, suffering from Disney Withdrawal Syndrome and so I can do nothing but mope. Woe is me...

I seriously was in love with that guy for a full week and a half, after spending probably less than 15 minutes with him, total. I have finally mostly given up on ever seeing him again. Mostly given up. You never know.

If this were a book, he would've left me a note with some way to find him.
If this were a movie, we would've watched the fireworks together (and I wouldn't have been so scared of the BOOMs).
But it's not; it's somehow real life, even if I don't believe it, and all I have of him is a first name and a picture.

SAD AND RELUCTANT SIGH

In other news...

NaNoWriMo is like a week away! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I am really looking into working at Disney World. They have a program called CareerStart (I believe) for anyone 18 or older who has graduated high school in the last 48 months. It's 7 months long, pay is around/just over minimum wage, and housing is provided with pretty decent rent. There are also classes available on topics such as hospitality, business, and other Disney-relevant areas. Some classes may be transferrable for college credit, and I think all classes are optional. There is also a college program for college students but I'm not eligible for that one. OH AND FREE ADMISSION!!!!

Hmm, what else do I have to share...I'm thinking about finally getting a job. Just thinking about it. haha. I am such a freeloader.

So This Is Love...

2010-10-14T13:00:00.003-05:00

I love Disney World so much that I never want to go home. I want to stay here forever and work here and be a part of the magic.

Disney has me so emotionally overwhelmed. I watch a Disney movie and I tear up. I hear one of my favorite Disney songs and I cry. It's all I can think about. I couldn't even sleep one night because I was so excited to go back.

I had the most magical birthday here. I turned 18 on 10/10/10, and instead of getting a lottery ticket I got an Epcot ticket. Instead of buying cigarettes, I bought trading pins. Instead of giving up my childhood, I decided I want to believe in magic forever and I pity everyone who doesn't.

Epcot is one of four Disney Parks. The others are Magic Kingdom with the castle, Animal Kingdom, and Hollywood Studios. I didn't go to Hollywood Studios this time, but I went to the others.

Epcot has two parts - Future World and World Showcase. Future World has the big ball and is all about technology and innovation. I spent most of the day in the World Showcase which represents 11 different countries from around the world. In each country, there are shops, restaurants, Disney character greetings, shows or rides, and occasionally street performers. Almost all of the "cast members" (Disney employees) working in a country are native to that country - so cool!

I think that is all the boring background info you need to know before I tell my tale.

I saw some cutie from Norway early in the day, but that was when I was still shy, so I didn't approach him. I wasn't fully 18 yet anyway, as I was born just in time for lunch.

In Germany I saw Snow White. I got her autograph in my Official Autograph book (so what if I was the oldest in line) and a picture, of course. She asked me if I had found my prince yet. When I told her no, she directed me toward the wishing well because she wished for a prince and there he was! So I did.

LEMME TELL YA, THIS THING WORKS.

(If you don't know me, this is the first time you've seen my face. I've given up on trying to hide my blog and identity, although I still am quite discreet.)

I found my princes. I found at least a dozen of them. I swear, everyone who works at Disney World is good looking. I did not see a single ugly person there. Must be the magic.

First I took a picture with Daniel from Germany. HE SMELLED SO GOOD! And he wore knickers! Jean-Phillip in the caramel shop was very cute too, but all I got from him was the best cookie I've ever eaten - oatmeal and apple with a huge gob of Werther's caramel in the center. Yummmmmmm!

Then I had a birthday lunch in Italy. That deserves a whole nother post, I think. And some fan mail. I met mmmmmMatteo and Domenico "the womanizer" (according to Matteo), whom I got a picture with (a bit awkward, actually, and therefore disappointing, but it doesn't matter because it was trivial), and watched (ogled) so many more waiters (e.g. Davide, Simone, Febrizio, Rene...) who were all quite attractive. But Matteo wins, as you will see. Now I have to be proactive and write about before I forget!

I think Aladdin is my new favorite prince.

I wanted to tell Jasmine to BUTT OUT of the picture, but I am too nice.

I don't want to post pictures of the other guys I met for privacy reasons or whatever - I wouldn't want someone to do it to me - but Aladdin doesn't count because he is the real thing. Anyone can take a picture with him; it's his job.

As for the Americans, Chris the pin guy was cute and very friendly too (in the regular way, not the flirty way. I think. Mostly. Although I wouldn't really know.), and when Michael the hottie street sweeper said "Happy Birthday Molly" I could've died! Well, no, that expression is not correct, I had every intention of fully living, but, er, you get the point. I swooned a bit.

Am I coming off as a bit boy-crazy? I am not in real life, I swear. Most of the time, at least. Well, sometimes I am, but only if there is someone around that can join in on the fun.

And besides, these are not boys, they are MEN! Because I am a woman now! Officially! Except that I cannot drink alcohol (legally), rent a car, or run for president. Being eighteen is so overrated.

Super long posts make me uncomfortable, and I don't want to bore anyone with a hundred pictures or stories of how chatty Mulan was or all the cool things I saw in the shops, so I am just going to leave you with this: See it for yourself. Take your family, take your kids if/when you have any. Take your friends and everyone you know that has even the slightest inkling belief in magic. It takes serious effort not to have a good time and even more to not believe in magic when you are at Disney World. I think I will post on that too...

Oh, and go on your birthday. It's the best!!

How far would you go if you knew you could live your dream for sure?

2010-10-02T20:31:00.000-05:00

From here.

How far would you go if you knew you could live your dream for sure?

I want to write that everywhere. I want to see it every day, remind myself every day where I want to be and what I will do to get there. This question is supremely (ooh nice word) important and one that everyone should ask themselves every day.

How far would you go? Would fear hold you back? Would lack of money, talent, or time? How about the people in your life - would you believe them if they told you you're dream is silly/stupid/irresponsible/unrealistic? If you were on the path to your dream, could see clearly the steps you needed to take, would you go full-force ahead, or would your self-doubt make you cautious and uncertain if it's the right thing to do? Would you settle for less if you knew you didn't have to?

Today my answer is all the way, no matter what is in the way. But as soon as an opportunity comes up I know I may be too scared to take it. I hope when that happens I can ask myself, How far will you go? How important is it to live your dream? How stupid will I feel for not taking this opportunity?

I hope I can find the right answers for me.

STEP AWAY FROM THE SPARKLY CEREAL

2010-10-02T16:36:00.000-05:00

Here is a basic explanation of why locally grown organic food is important. By an 11-year-old, which doesn't surprise me, but many people I know (of the schooled mindset) would think he is somehow extraordinary. Nope, just homeschooled. Of course.

Now that you've won the Superbowl, what are you going to do next?

2010-09-28T01:08:00.000-05:00

I'm going to Disney World!!!!

Remember those commercials? I do.

But really, I am going to Disney World. EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am so excited. I love Disney World. It's so magical. No one there tries to convince me that I can't live happily ever after with the prince, or that Santa isn't real (because he is), or that I have to "grow up." Everyone believes in fairies and magic and children. It's a wonderful place, and I wish the rest of the world would TAKE A HINT.

I am leaving in the morning. Half the family is driving down and will be there a full week before the other half, those unfortunate souls who have to work, fly down for a week. So including driving time, I will be gone for three weeks!

I won't be posting much (nothing new). I was planning on writing a bunch of good posts before leaving, but of course that didn't happen, so...not much to read here.

I promise I won't post every day gloating about how fun vacations are. I've made a similar pact with myself about Facebook.

I should go to bed now, so morning comes faster!

Who decided that legs that look human are ugly?

2010-09-11T14:15:00.000-05:00

I haven't shaved my legs in over 6 months. Six months. That's right, allllll summer. At the beach, in the pool, in shorts, in public (gasp!), around my friends, all over. So you can imagine how hairy they are. I tried to measure individual hairs for you, but that proved to be quite difficult. They are well past a half an inch.

As predicted, my family is Very Upset and Disgusted. I don't know why they care so much. My grandma is particularly obnoxious about it, making a sour face and some rude comments every time she sees my legs, which is most days, because I still enjoy wearing skirts, shorts, and, recently, rolled up pants (I am like obsessed this week). She has threatened to tie me to a chair and shave them herself. Thanks Grandma? How kind of you to offer? I realize that she just wants me to be beautiful because no one ever thought she was beautiful (not true) and she never felt beautiful because her sister told her she was ugly once (and she believed it?) and doesn't want me to be ugly.

I don't think legs are ugly. I don't think hair is ugly, unsightly, homely, repulsive, disgusting, uncivilized, ape-like, offensive, lazy, unattractive, blemished, distasteful, loathsome, repelling, primitive, disgraceful, despicable, heinous, barbaric, or shameful. Do you like my new thesaurus? It's called The Synonym Finder by J.I. Rodale and it was the biggest, er, I mean, most Brobdingnagian (huh?) and elephantine one Barnes & Noble had. And it's also colossal and robust. Hulking too. ("I hate that word. Hulking. Hulking hulking hulking!" - remember that part in The Great Gatsby? what a waste of paper that was)

Why should I shave? Because everyone else does? Obviously that argument has never worked for me. I am not self-conscious any more (it's such a relief! and liberating too!). I don't care if I'll never find a man with hairy legs. If smooth legs are important to all men, then I don't want one. So what else have you got? Vanity is a waste of my energy. I'm not a swimmer. Cutting myself on dull blades is in no way hygenic.

By not shaving, I am saving time, water, money, plastic, landfill space, soap, chemicals, bunnies' lives, band-aids, and self-esteem that I can instead direct elsewhere. I am hurting no one, ~~not even~~ especially not myself. I am cut-, bump-, and itchy-free. I look human.

For a brief history of leg shaving, go here. Yes, I googled it. Who doesn't love Google? Don't answer that.

If I were famous enough to have musical influences, these would be them.

2010-09-05T19:36:00.000-05:00

This is a Facebook thing, but who reads Facebook notes anymore?

"Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen albums you've heard that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag fifteen friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what albums my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your fifteen picks, and tag people in the note)"

Okay, so I cheated. I used iTunes to help. It's hard to think of the best ones! Each has been a favorite at some point in my life. They're listed in chronological order (iTunes helped with that too - I had to check the years that some of these came out it, and the date added for the later ones).

The Ultimate Collection - The Jackson 5
Basically my childhood. Sister #2 played it a lot. Well, she played the first five songs a lot. Still my favorites.
Millenium - Backstreet Boys
Who didn't love this album? Sister #3 instilled in me an early love for the BSB. We saw them at the MN State Fair last year. I still haven't washed the t-shirt.
The Princess Diaries soundtrack
I still know all the words. All of them. I often quote the movie, but only the obscure parts, so no one gets it. "Maybe it's string cheese..."
Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron soundtrack - Brian Adams, Hans Zimmer
My most listened to album ever. I still get excited when a song from it pops up on my iPod. I know all of the words and I stole the sheet music for Here I Am from choir in 7th grade so I could play along on the piano.
The Lizzie McGuire Movie soundtrack

Again, I know all the words. I like Princess Diaries better, but this one makes me happy too.
More Than You Think You Are - Matchbox Twenty
Sister #1 and I liked the song Unwell because we had a, er, metally unstable guy living down the street. He moved. Downfall has been my favorite song and this has been one of my favorite albums since I listened to it over and over again on a long bus ride to a 3-day 6th grade "camping" adventure. Probably the only good memory from 6th grade. That and some hijinks in the Resource Room with the girl who moved into Unwell guy's house. Wow, coincidence...
Fallen - Evanescence
No comment. haha. Sister #1's CD. It was 7th grade and I was a bit depressed, interested in goth culture, etc.
Grey's Anatomy soundtracks seasons 1-3
Grey's Anatomy had the best soundtracks. I think they only made three, though. Tis a shame. I discovered some of my new favorite artists - Brandi Carlile, Tegan & Sara, Ingrid Michaelson, Metric - and one of my favorite songs - Such Great Heights by The Postal Service (ironically used in UPS commercials)
Under the Iron Sea - Keane
A friend left this at my house after Christmas to give to another friend. So, what else was I supposed to do but put it on my iPod and let it develop into a favorite?
It Won't Be Soon Before Long - Maroon 5
I listened to it all summer two years ago. Good memories with my CC friends.
A Charlie Brown Christmas
The ultimate Christmas album. Everyone knows it, even if they don't know they know it. I have the piano music and I play it about 8 months out of the year. I love it so much!
Perfect Symmetry - Keane
My favorite Keane album. Doesn't sound like their other stuff. Supposedly it has an 80's vibe. Huh. I have this piano music too, and I haven't gotten sick of it yet in two and a half years.
Loyalty to Loyalty - Cold War Kids
Thank you Pandora. I swear, they wrote this just for me. The lyrics always seem relevant, except the ones that don't. Er, yep.
The Con - Tegan & Sara
I love their vocal harmony. Tegan and Sara are twins, so their voices are so similar, they fit together so interestingly well.
Fantasies - Metric
Fantasies is my fantasy. I also bought the acoustic version on iTunes. I love it both ways.

So, my family is not entirely supportive of my decision to do it differently...

2010-09-03T15:44:00.000-05:00

My sister is pissed off at me and I don't know why...

Sister drama is so tiring.

Yesterday she like freaked out at me, and about me. Apparently just the sight of my face is enough to upset her. Whatever. She has been in kind of a funk lately. She's 25, lives at home, gets a ride to work everyday from mom because she can't afford a car (she could if she wanted one), just broke up with her long-distance boyfriend months ago (get over it already), and does nothing with her life except work, read romance novels, and watch TLC. She's a bit pathetic, but no one can say anything because she is easily offended. And vicious.

So yesterday I walked into the kitchen and said something completely unrelated to her and she disagreed. And apparently I gave her some look. It must've been my "You're an idiot" look, or maybe "Seriously?" I recall it being more of a "What's your problem?" This really upset her I guess. I can't help it, I have a very expressive face. Most people just dismiss it. (Come to think of it, that's probably why I don't have any friends...haha oh well.) So she gets upset and yells and whatever and I leave and a bit later she is talking (ranting) to my mom. She is mad about me because I am not going to college and I don't have a job and that is against the rules of this house! She would've been thrown out on the street! I guess she didn't realize she had a choice...? I don't know. My mom said to her, "What do you want me to do? I'm pushing her all I can. My husband doesn't have a job either!" I was eavesdropping at this time because I really do try to understand.

My sister was one of those people who went to college and never got over it. It was honestly the best years of her life, which is really too bad because she has so much life ahead of her, and life right now! All she ever talks about is her three months in Europe and how everything reminds her of Europe and how she's going to go back to Europe someday and blah blah blah. And our brother has transfered to a 4-year school and she's so excited for him, she's going to buy him everything! (What does it matter if he has brand new socks or older ones? He doesn't care!)

Sister is very upset that I'm not going to college. I don't know why she cares so much. I know so much more about myself from being out of school than she ever has, so I really don't think that "learning who I am" is relevant. There is nothing I want to learn that I can't learn elsewhere. Friends? Maybe I am missing out on making new friends. I won't keep most of them from high school. But I don't think that people born between 1991-92 are the only people I can be friends with. I don't want a career that I need a degree for, so why should I pay to get one? Obviously her degree in political science really pays off, because she works at a bank and her only political involvement is voting. So really, her only argument is independence. Maybe living away from my family in a place where my daily activities are all chosen for me and my meals are all made for me and I don't have to worry about money, at least not yet, would be good for me. Maybe I would become more independent, just like her, getting my driver's license at 23 and going to Target alone in Mom's car to buy my own movies and yogurt. Maybe I would even look into grad school because I don't know what else to do with my life. Maybe I would just complain about everything and everyone, and never take any action.

Maybe.

Yeah right.

I don't know if she's just insecure about it....? If she's questioning whether she went to the right college, or if she should've gone somewhere cheaper/closer/farther/with horses/not so snooty? Or she really just wants the best for me, and doesn't realize that the best for her wouldn't work at all for me. These are the only explanations I have.

Whatever. It obviously bothers her more than it bothers me. I have more self-esteem than that.

Do I really sound like a brat? Maybe I come off as a little too self-righteous...

And now my desk and my fingers have a strange sheen to them...

2010-09-01T15:20:00.000-05:00

I haven't had my laptop for two whole days and I've been really feeling it. Especially because there is currently only one other functional computer in the house and it's in my parents bedroom and I don't feel comfortable using it for longer than it takes to find something and print it out. My laptop was being borrowed by my sister, who ended up not using it, because she's trying college again and signed up for an online class even though she doesn't have a computer and can't afford internet at her apartment. Sensible people would consider these things first...

OH AND SHE TOOK MY BAG TOO!!!!!!!!1!!!

Anyway...

I've been auditioning new hobbies lately, trying to break my facebook/blogger/Roller Coaster Tycoon habits. Sewing, watercolor painting, sleeping, etc. More on those in a later post.

To make a potentially long story shorter, I will get to the point. I played with my old makeup yesterday, and not on my face:

Depiction of a Delia's model. I accidentally cut off her wonky arm when I took the picture. Whoops.

This is what it took to make her:

It all came in a big black "traincase," aka a nice caboodle, with some lip stuff. I got it when I was 12 and thought that my eyelids should be unnaturally colorful. I've hardly used any at all in the last 3 years, and I feel stupid now when I do. Plus chemicals are BAD and it stinks. If you write bad enough times, it doesn't look like a word.

Hedgehog is a bit envious of Pyj's portrait.

And finally,...

My masterpiece! Made with eyeshadow, eye and lip liner, and some nasty lip stuff. Not gloss, it's like lipstick but not in a tube. Lip color? Something gooey. Of course, my work has some DEEP and PROFOUND meaning about beauty and makeup and stuff. So deep even I don't know what it is...

Her inspiration came from an ad in the latest Delia's catalog for a new TV show, "Hollywood is Like High School With Money." At least, I think that's what it's called.

I traced it. No way do I have the patience to draw a face like that. Originally I included the words, along with my best rebuttal, "TV is like fun, but not." I had to erase it because it was obviously just too brilliant to include.

I got the idea to use makeup out a book. It is a good book and I want it, but I don't remember what the title is. Bother.

It's a very nice day and I think I'll go for a run. I haven't done that in awhile.

I will Dream On, as a matter of fact

2010-08-24T21:23:00.000-05:00

What I want/wanted to be when I grow up (if I ever do):
-Tight-rope walker
-Animal trainer for the circus
-Vaulter (performer that stands, etc. on horses)
-Anything else in the circus
-~~Olympian~~
-Jockey, though I'll settle for excercise rider
-~~Astronaut~~ no way would I ever go into space
-Writer/author
-Poet
-~~Creator of the next best online horse game~~
-Crazy cat lady
-Goatherd
-Composer
-Pianist
-Double bassist - those things are huge!
-~~Actor/Singer/Performer~~ I realized that I really don't enjoy performing
-~~1st Grade Teacher~~ I was six.
-Horse
-Fairy
-Heroine
-Adventurer
-~~Professional Student~~ Professional Learner, maybe
-~~Mathemetician, especially geometry and theory~~
-Mother of eight! Homeschooling them all! And chickens too!
-Fashion designer/Seamstress
-Food taster
-~~Neuroscientist~~
-~~Biologist~~ unless of course I am studying organisms on my farm
-Native American
-Anthropologist
-Villager
-African monkey/ape, er, rehabilitator? Whatever Jane Goodall does. Primatologist.
-Zookeeper
-Farmer
-Happy

I wish I knew a redhead joke. Oh well. Why did the chicken...how does that one go?

2010-08-21T20:34:00.000-05:00

One of my good friends is going to college to be an english teacher. Obviously we have very different educational philosophies. But I'm proud of her. She'll be a good teacher. She's passionate, she like kids, and she'll be able to work on her dream of writing and publishing a book. She's one of those people that are interesting in their own right; her personality won't be consumed by her job. Seriously, I often think of some people, Why did you become a teacher? [like all of the chemistry teachers at our former high school...] I swear, it's just so they can coach soccer or golf or whatever they were good at in high school. But with her, it will be evident - words are important. How many people get excited over palindromes and puns? Not many.

So if I ever have/will offend you, I'm sorry. It's not personal. Teaching is a great profession. Everyone needs teachers, even those of us who refuse to go to school. I just think there are some serious flaws in the school system.

Have a good time in college. I'll be sad if you don't come back. ;)

Some pun about vampires and sucking...

2010-08-14T15:51:00.001-05:00

Earlier this week I was at the library, scanning the titles of the new books and feeling like the unfriendly librarians were watching me, when I saw it. The latest Meg Cabot book, Insatiable. And like every Meg Cabot book, it called to me. I should've known better.

I used to love Meg Cabot's books. I think. I loved the Princess Diaries series, except 8 and 9, and All-American Girl, but not the sequel. PD 9 and Ready or Not (the aforementioned sequel) are all about sex. Like, "My boyfriend is hinting (but never outright saying) that he wants to have sex and I don't know if I'm ready; what am I going to dooooo??? Oh, turns out he was never intending to have sex after all. Whoops. How was I supposed to know that Parcheesi is a family-friendly game?". The rest are all just annoying. High school drama, overreacting, blah blah blah. Good when you want something shallow to fill the time.

So I checked out Insatiable. The inside cover begins, "Sick of hearing about vampires? So is Meena Harper." Meena writes for a soap opera that is about to jump on the vampire bandwagon. She meets a hot Romanian prince who just happens to be a vampire. Of course they're going to fall in love. Yawn.

I've reached page 118 and I still can't tell if it's a satire or a serious effort. I don't know if I should quit while I'm ahead or give it the benefit of the doubt. Insatiable either contains or references nearly every vampire stereotype out there, including various Twilight allusions. The vamp can partially read minds (Edward!); the girl's mind is hard to read, though he can. The vamp is a prince in charge of keeping vampires in check (Volturi much?) with one rule - this time, it's no human deaths from loss of blood, but the existence of vampires is a big secret too. The vampires are irresistible (of course), with eyes that flash red with rage, and sensitivity to sunlight and holy water. They (explicitly) don't sparkle. For some much needed excitement, there are vampire slayers (one is named Alaric Wulf - hmm, that sounds a bit like wolf...) employed by the Vatican, which is practically in Italy - right next to the home of the Volturi! There are too many references to pop culture, even non-vamp, and the prose is not even that good. And it's 451 pages thick, in the style. Do they seriously think anyone can endure that many pages of crap?

I don't recommend Insatiable. Even if you liked the Twilight Saga. If you want more vamp fiction, read Sunshine by Robin McKinley (hint - they don't fall in love) or Dracula (duh, it's a classic). I hear Ann Rice is good; she's the original, apparently. Don't bother with Fat Vampire (I believe it's called). Though it sounds promising, the first few chapters I read sucked (not a pun).

The clouds are telling me something

2010-08-13T19:38:00.000-05:00

I always forget that rainbows are real. They seem to be too mystical for this world. Every time I see one, I am still captivated. I don't believe that they're just a trick of the light. I don't believe in physics.

Saying Goodbye

2010-08-11T16:42:00.000-05:00

August already. Summer is slipping away days at time, or so it seems. This is the ending to an era in my life. I can feel it. Nothing will be so simple after this.

Cue dramatic music?

I've spent the summer with friends, my second ever. It feels so good to get out of the house and away from the comforts of family and books. I'm a different part of myself around friends, a part of me that doesn't surface often enough. It's refreshing to be silly, stupid, smart, opinionated, grammatically correct (obnoxiously?), "childish," giggly, unhealthy, animated, weird, crazy, piggishly hungry, unashamed, relaxed, afraid, brave, joking, sarcastic, imperfect. I trust that these people will forget my mistakes, or at least won't bring them up when I'm at a point of weakness. Our relationship is strictly voluntary and having a good time together is of utmost importance. And that's where they differ from family.

But it's ending. Some are leaving next week, others in two or three. By next summer, who knows what we'll have in common now that high school is over? Other than a few particularly close friends, I don't think I'll really miss anyone I knew from school. I don't know whether to be sad or relieved. I'm mostly indifferent.

I don't mean to sound like I'm whining or complaining. I'm just reflecting. I chose to opt out of the educational system and I don't regret it at all. I just wish that I weren't so alone.

I do have (very loose) plans, though. There's a beginning farming program that I'm looking into, but the classes are an hour away, so it's just a (definite) maybe. I'd like to do an internship on an organic farm within the next few years. I'm considering looking for a job, but, um, SCARY! I don't like talking to people. And I don't want to do anything that I don't enjoy (that really narrows it down...). Since I am starting with no bills or student loans to pay off, all the money I'd earn would be put into savings for a farm or (probably mostly) buying stuff. I don't need more junk. So no hurry.

Five years down the line, I have no idea where I'll be. Heck, I don't know where I'll be next year! But I'm not afraid.

2010-08-03T13:40:00.001-05:00

This is what I wanted my garden to look like when I was planning it out back in February/March:

This is what it actually looks like as of this morning:

i.e. a Prolific Mess. It has probably grown larger in the three hours since I took the picture.

I swear, I'm getting 50 cucumbers a week. The tomato plants seriously scare me, and they haven't even started giving me ripe tomatoes yet. The broccoli won't stop growing side shoots (I'm getting so annoyed!), and the peas keep coming, a few at a time, a rate that's not even worth picking at.

I started the garden last year after the crabapple tree (mostly) died. It's always been one of my favorite spots in the yard, a magic place. What better spot could there be for my garden? (hmm, maybe in full sun perhaps?) I dug out all the sod (a fancy word for grass hunks) and stuck a few seeds and transplants in. I forgot about it until harvest time.

This year, I decided to step it up a notch. I put up a fence to keep the rabbits out (saw one today - dang!). I planned out what's going where, bought a whole bunch of seed packets, went a little crazy at the greenhouse... Most of it worked. The radishes bolted and the lettuce didn't grow, but I have plenty of CUCUMBERS! and some nice beets, broccoli, peas, and arugula. Hopefully the carrots, onions, and beans will turn out nicely.

My grandpa (whom I live with, Gma too) hired some guys to trim our trees this spring. They climbed up there like monkeys with chainsaws. I watched from the windows like a creeper. They were going to chop up my beloved crabapple stump (oh no!!), but failed (YES!). It broke their chainsaw. I knew it had powers!

Yes, writing a tutorial does make me feel important

2010-08-03T11:27:00.000-05:00

This is for my real life friend (yeah, I actually have those, who woulda thunk?) M- - - - - - -, and anyone else who doesn't know.

How to Follow a Blog with Blogger:
The first step: peel your banahnas. The second step: toss in some gray-apes. The third step: chop up some apples. Chop up some melons and put them on your play-ay-ate.

Um, whoops. Wrong instructions. That's how The Wiggles make Fruit Salad (yummy yummy!).

How to Actually Follow a Blog with Blogger:
1. Copy the blog's url. Mine is http://silentinfinity.blogspot.com/
2. Go to your Dashboard. Scroll down to the bottom of your "Reading List" and click on the blue button that says "Add." It's directly above "Other Stuff."
3. Paste or type the url where is says "Add from URL." Hit Next, then choose to follow publicly or privately.

This works for all blogs on Blogger, as well as WordPress and probably others.

Words that may or may not mean anything - 3rd installment

2010-08-03T10:42:00.004-05:00

"When you become a teenager, you step onto a bridge. You may already be on it. The opposite shore is adulthood. Childhood lies behind. The bridge is made of wood. As you cross, it burns behind you."
-from Writing Magic by Gail Carson Levine

And here I am furiously trying to put out that fire. I will not give up hope.

A few good (decent?) things about school

2010-08-02T17:40:00.000-05:00

I realize that I can be a bit of an anti-school downer sometimes (okay, ALL of the time), so I am going to try and say some positive things about school.

This is very difficult.

Nothing comes to mind...

I was pushed to research alternatives and came across unschooling?

Okay, for real now.

-I met nearly all of my friends through school. I've had different groups of friends throughout the years, with most of my friendships being relatively shallow. However, pretty much from 9th grade on I've been with the same group of friends. We've been spending a lot of time together this summer, going to graduation parties, playing on playgrounds, using up free bowling passes, and whatnot. I really like these people, and I have better relationships with them than I have ever had with peers. I'm really going to miss hanging out with them come September.

-I've had a few great teachers that really inspired me. I had a special connection with my 5th grade teacher, who loved horses like me and understood why I thought homework was stupid. She made me feel important, and comfortable with myself. My 7th grade science teacher and 9-12th grade cross country coach was so much fun, and he pushed me so far beyond what I thought were my limits. Running really has changed my life.

-I loved participating in the Gifted program in elementary school. I always told myself that it was the reason I kept going to school. (That was before the false hope and/or parental fear.) I loved thinking in different ways, and I especially loved getting out of class. The teacher was great (she told me once that gifted people are very sensitive, so it's okay to feel like crying. I tell myself that all the time...) and the other kids ended up being good friends (years later).

-I started writing to amuse myself and pass the time. I have notebooks full of poems, journaling, and (mostly) crap. I'll look back on it someday (maybe) and remember what it was like ~~to be depressed and to waste so much time.~~ Don'tbesuchadowner.Don'tbesuchadowner.

-I came across some pretty good books. I was compelled to read Ramona's World, Bridge to Terabithia, Pippi Longstocking, and 1984, all of which I fairly enjoyed. I was recommended Speak, and I chose from a selection Go and Come Back, both of which I absolutely love. I also read many books that I resented, but hey, I have cultural knowledge, and that's what counts, right?

-I learned math. Apparently trigonometry is important. I think it is useless and sucks. And I like math. Many people think that homeschoolers have a problem with learning math on their own, but I didn't. I taught myself calculus, and then I got bored and realized that calculus is pretty much pointless in the life I intend to lead.

-I learned a lot about singing in the year that I spent in a high-level choir. I still know next-to-nothing.

-I have some nice pots that I made in pottery. I don't know what to do with them, since they are oddly shaped and not suitable for use as serving dishes, which is what we use all of my sister's and aunt's pottery for.

That's all I've got for now. Most of these connections could've easily be made outside of school. I tried, I really did.

Words that may or may not mean anything - 2nd installment

2010-08-02T13:07:00.001-05:00

The first bite transports me.

There I am, back at my favorite apple orchard. The air is cool and crisp, like the fruits themselves. The smells of fructose and fermentation fill me, so that the only thought possible is eating...that...apple.

I chew with delight.

Ahh, the sweet taste of...strawberry soda and lip gloss. Artificial, lackluster, dull. A terrible disappointment.

I should've known better. This apple is from Chile; what do they know about apples? The best are from Minnesota orchards, fresh off the tree. Not some imitation product covered in wax and flown halfway across the world.

Only a few more months until that perfect Haralson: tart, but not bitter; sweet but not syrupy; crunchy but not hard on the teeth. A size that is easily wielded in hand or by knife. An unaffected crimson, with freckled dimension.

Though it is overwhemingly pleasing to all the senses, this is no witch's apple. It belongs to my mother, whose applesauce is unrivaled. And how could it be? The apples have secrets, never to be told aloud.

Words that may or may not mean anything - 1st installment

2010-08-01T22:19:00.000-05:00

I have magic places here.

Both in the house - the closet under the stairs, or in the corner of the "little room," behind various arrangements of furniture - and surrounding our property - under the pine tree where we tried to build a tree house so many summers ago, or in our "jungle" by the shed, or the enchanted passageway to the field, and the seemingly different world that lay beyond.

But I must leave.

The sun is beckoning to me.

Come, it says, come to my world. Where the breeze is real, where flowers have lives of their own. Where the grass is tall, and the trees are sturdy. Where the birds are unafraid to fly.

Come. Come to the place where your heart can be free. Where the magic is almost tangible.

I'll miss the comforts of the only place I've ever known. But I'll find new comforts, pleasures that are impossible anywhere else.

I'll find new magic places. I'll live in a world full of them.

Another perspective

2010-07-30T12:33:00.001-05:00

I really like this post: Eat & Be Free. ps pirro explains, better than I can right now, why the connection to food is so important. I need that connection more than any others, except family and maybe words. I need to grow food. I need to write. These are the things that free my mind and my soul, and I need that freedom.

These boots were definitely not made for walking, at least not in the usual sense

2010-07-18T23:22:00.001-05:00

I wanted to write today. Okay, I've been meaning to write for the past week or so, all my life, really. So tonight, with at least an hour before bed, I opened my notebook and wrote.

Ah, to be in the land of fiction! Anything is possible!

[Note: This is not typical of me. I've hardly written any fiction since...a long time ago. So sad.]

I did a writing exercise that that I had copied (along with many others) into my notebook (I did this last Sept/Oct sometime, and have neglected it since). It's from The Writing Workshop Notebook by Alan Ziegler.

"Plucking Words
Open any book you have around. Pick an interesting word from the left page and one from the right page. Open another book and do the same. Write three or four paragraphs, each one containing all four words" (p. 72).

My words: boundless, boots, responsibility, pizza

***
And suddenly, they were thrust into the desert. No life was to be seen, save a few scattered cacti.

"What did you do?" shrieked the youngest.

The eldest argued in defense, "I didn't know this would - hey! Where is Monty?"

They scanned the boundless territory, but saw no sign of their brother.

"Damn boots!" The eldest kicked the ground like it might actually produce some result.

"I told you not to touch them," his sister proudly reminded him, in the way that younger siblings often do, and plopped down in the sand.

Her brother joined her with a sigh. "Now what?" he muttered.

"I'm hungry," offered the other. "What's for lunch?"

"Pizza, if we ever get back."

"Yummmmm..." she hummed to herself, meditatively. The eldest took this as a signal to think.

"Maybe if we try going back the way we came, the boots will bring us home..."
"Yes!"

"Unless they take us somewhere else, somewhere...dangerous!" His voice took on a dramatic tone. "We could walf off the edge of a cliff! Or into the face of a mountain!"

"That wouldn't be nice."

"No. Let's try it anyway." He pulled her up and set her feet on his toes. Her lip trembled.

"You know how in Peter Pan, when they think happy things they can fly?" she began.

"Yes," he replied, uncertain of how this was relevant.

"Well maybe," she continued, "maybe if we think of home, the boots will bring us there."

"Let's try it," her brother declared. "We need all the help we can get."

He took a step. The world seemed to spin faster, day turned to night and back to day day again, and the wind whipped their hair. One foot touched the ground, or what seemed to be the ground, and the other one lifted off. A million objects flew by, too fast to indentify. They broke through a strange shield that felt like Jell-O - just at the moment they anticipated boucing back, they popped through. The earth seemed to quake, or maybe that was just their heads, when the second foot landed. They nearly collided with Monty before they fell backwards on to the attic floor, dizzy and out of breath.

"It worked!" the girl cried, and laughed with relief.

The eldest carefully took off the boots and locked them back in the trunk.

"What happened?" Monty asked, bemused.

"Those boots," the eldest explained, "have some kind of power. When I took a step, they took me to a whole different world, or, at least, a far away part of this one. Somehow by walking toward Elyse I picked her up and brought her with me. We ended up in a desert, with no sign of anyone else around."

"Owen was scared, but I wasn't," Elyse piped in.

Monty cackled. "So how did you get back?"

"Well, I placed her on my toes and took two steps in the direction we came."

"I wanna try!" Monty exclaimed.

"No! It's too dangerous!" warned Owen. "With something so powerful comes great responsibility. We shouldn't ever use them." Seeing the disappointment on Elyse's face, and conspiring on Monty's, he added, "alone."

***

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Once I started writing the story just came. And I used dialogue! I didn't even notice!

Did you catch on to my literary technique of not using names until they were spoken? Or was that just annoying? I wasn't planning on giving them names, but it kind of just happened. I opened up to a random page in a baby name book and used the first one I saw. Okay, that's not entirely true. I didn't use Montgomery, Elvina, Elvira, or Otto. Eh, close enough.

I feel kind of...exposed and uncomfortable posting this. But what are blogs for? I wonder how much of it actually reflects me.
I don't know if I want feedback. Maybe? If you have something constructive to say, I guess.

Questioning Little Red

2010-07-10T21:56:00.000-05:00

I came across Gail Carson Levine's blog the other day. It's a great writing resource for me, because I (secretly) love fantasy and/or children's novels. And I LOVE HER BOOKS! Ella Enchanted has been my favorite book since I read it when I was 7 (and about every year since then). Many of her stories are retellings of fairy tales, which I am particularly interested in.

Anyway, I was talking about something other than books... Oh yeah. Writing books. Gail Carson Levine blogs about how to write, especially in the fantasy genre. She gives encouragement, suggestions, and exercises to budding writers. In this post, she basically says, QUESTION EVERYTHING! Why is the fairy tale told that way? Why do the characters do that? Why don't they realize ______?

I've been thinking about doing a retelling for NaNoWriMo. I've always wanted to write one. It would be easier to get started, because I would already have a basic plot. And, most importantly (for me), finishing it would give me the confidence I need to someday use an original storyline. So I've been reading a lot of fairy tales lately. Cinderella has been done so many times, all the Disney ones are too well known, all the obscure ones are too obscure, etc.

So I picked Little Red Riding Hood. I've always liked the story (mostly arbitrarily). It hasn't been done, that I know of (except, apparently, Lois Lowry's Number the Stars, which I have never read. I would've, if I had known.). Now the question is, How can I make it my own? I went to the library and got The Annotated Classic Fairy Tales edited by Maria Tatar. I didn't know this when I picked it up, but annotated means that the editor shares the best of her research in introductions and notes. I definitely recommend annotated books!

I read through Little Red Riding Hood and came up with 50 questions that I will have to answer for myself before/while I write. Most of this are pretty basic, like Why is she wearing red? and Why did she go through the forest?, but some are more symbolic or specific to my story, like Why is there no mention of Red's father or grandfather? How old is "Little" Red?, etc. I was a bit surprised to read about possible symbolism in the story, such as the color red for sin, passion, or blood, and that the wolf's eating her was quite a bit more, erm, sexual in nature in early oral versions of the tale. Or that "the swallowing whole of the grandmother and the girl has been seen as a symbolic double rape" (p. 25). The idea that it might be rape intrigues me. That would be an emotionally hard story to write and read (and research!), but it might be more interesting than the censored version. Then it would be easier to modernize, if I chose to do that. Otherwise, does the wolf really eat her? How does she come out of his body intact? Why doesn't she realize that the wolf is impersonating Grandma? Why does she tell the wolf where she is going in the first place?! I have a lot to consider!

Unschooling in action, for me

2010-07-03T22:15:00.000-05:00

In the last two days, I re-read Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson. It’s a good story, and it’s well-written for children. Everything is believable. All of Jess’s actions and feelings are true to those of a ten-year-old boy. Leslie is his perfect opposite. She is everything he – and the reader – wants to be. She’s smart, un-self-conscious, and fearless, which ends up being her fatal flaw.
I’m planning on reading and analyzing some of my favorite novels this summer in preparation for NaNoWriMo. I really want to get a feel for what makes a story great – the characters, the sub-plots, the adventures. I started with Bridge to Terabithia on a whim. I haven’t read it since 5th grade (required), and it has the crossover from real world to magic world that I want in my novel.
I got some analysis questions from NaNoWriMo’s Young Writer’s Program (100% Awesome NON-LAME) Workbook. I analyzed not because I was compelled to by any teacher or GPA, or because I felt the need to fulfill any curriculum requirement. I analyzed a good book because I thought it would benefit me, and because I wanted to. That is what unschooling is. Learning for the sake of learning, to benefit no one else but myself. Without being compelled.

Who woulda thunk? Me, a writer. Huh.

2010-07-01T21:58:00.001-05:00

I've been thinking about writing a lot lately. I think the catalyst was NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month in November). I'm really considering doing it. I have no idea what I'll write 50,000 words about, but that's not the point. Which is why NaNoWriMo is perfect for me. It doesn't matter if my novel sucks, just that it gets done. Awesome!

About a week ago I was checking out the website, and their Young Writer's Program. The YWP has workbooks for elementary through high school use. As I was reading through it, assessing its potential helpfulness (yes), I came across the Inner Editor Containment Button. I pushed the button and had my Inner Editor (a nasty lady with mustache hairier than my own) sucked out of my brain! It was liberating! I vowed not to let her back in until at least December 1st.

It apparently worked. All of a sudden, while playing the piano, I had words in my head. Real words. That I could write down. Words that weren't angry, or frustrated, or sad, but real words just for the sake of being words! And so I ran downstairs and grabbed my notebook and even put on my new dress and I went back to the piano and wrote. And the words were still there. Amazing. And then I wrote more! I even did a little (paragraph of) fiction! Huh.

My fingers dance with the keys. Up, down, over and around. I love the feel of the ivory, with its slight loops and whorls. Fingerprints to graze my own in their quiet greeting. The music frees me from all logical thought. Tchaikovsky's Morning Prayer becomes my own, to a deity I've never known. I play the hopeful tune with longing, melding my prayer with his.

The song is short. I move on to a piece that looks promising but isn't. That's the way it is with music - you can usually guess at how it sounds, but never at how it feels.

In which I resist the temptation to say I suck at blogging - oops

2010-07-01T21:26:00.000-05:00

A few of my friends are starting to blog, mostly about their everyday lives and the small excitements in our small city. I don't know if I should follow them, or if I'm ready to let anyone I know in person read mine. I want to show people this other side of me, but what is too personal? I wouldn't put most of this on facebook. Should I let a select few in?

People start blogs to reach three different audiences: themselves, people they know, and strangers. I've effectively cut out people I know by not telling anyone and by using a new name and email and by not giving out too many details or anything I can be searched by. I'd like to someday include those people, but then I'd feel like I have to censor my words, which is the reason I started blogging anonymously.

I'm considering it. Is there any way I can hide past posts without deleting them? Would it be self-censorship if I did hide them? I shouldn't feel ashamed or embarrassed by anything I've written, but I might if I thought someone was judging me by it. So much for not caring what others think.

Don't Laugh At Me

2010-06-23T20:12:00.000-05:00

I'm a group leader at Peace Camp this week. We've been listening to and singing this song at the beginning and end of each camp session. Our lyrics are slightly different to be more appropriate for 9-12 year-olds (no teen mother, for example). Every time I sing it I hold back tears.

What commences? The gnawing feeling that it's all a sham?

2010-06-14T14:27:00.000-05:00

Thursday I attended my friends' and former schoolmates' graduation. It was pretty emotional for most of them, with tears and hugs all around. And I was...unmoved by any of it. Bored. No sadness, no regret. I only felt so detatched from it all.

All of them put behind a huge part of their lives. All they've ever known for the last 13 years, gone. Thrust into the world they've been sheltered from. They've depended on school for so long, what will they ever do without it? Well, there's an easy way to delay that answer for four more years...

School was never a big part of my life. It took up way too much of my time, but I wouldn't let it affect the rest of the afternoon and evening. I refused to do homework at home. I never let my class rank or GPA affect my self-image. But I never had any reason to doubt that I'm smart. Most people my age do. They get sucked into the mindset that school performance = intelligence and that test scores say a lot about a person. They will never anything other than "general" or "honors" because they don't believe they can be. It makes me so sad when they talk about school. Even when they say how stupid, useless, and a waste of time it is. I just want to ask them, why did you go along with it then? I think it's out of fear, but they would never admit it or even realize it.

Here I am with no diploma, no regrets, no moral conflict, and no fear of being temporarily poor. I don't need money, stuff, or anyone else's approval to be happy.

Who is better off?

Conscious conscience

2010-06-08T15:19:00.000-05:00

I've been a vegetarian for seven years, since I was 10. Except for a few things, I never liked meat, so the transition wasn't very hard. The biggest question was never, "What are you going to eat?," but "Why?" I hated being put on the spot like that (like any child, I felt accused of something), so I refused to answer. I didn't have a good enough answer to stand up to my parents and grandparents anyway. I knew it was wrong and it made me sad, and I didn't like it anyway. If I had liked meat, I would've chose indifference, just like everyone else I know. I so often hear from my friends, "I'd be vegetarian too, but meat just tastes so good!" I never had much of a response to that. I thought, why are you telling me this?

Now I have an answer. I don't want to be indifferent, and I do everything the hard way.

Factory farming is awful. More than awful, but I don't have the words to describe it. It makes me sad. Unless you've seen how your meat was raised or your produce grown, you can bet it's from a factory farm. You can be pretty certain that those animals suffered greatly in life and in death. I'm sure you know this by now. Yet every time you eat meat, if you do, you choose to ignore it. Because it tastes good. Because it's convenient. Because you have cultural ties to it, and good memories of eating it. Because you're accustomed to indifference.

I am. I eat produce that has been sprayed with herbicides, insecticides, fungicides all the time. I eat substances that kill. Yet I eat to live? I eat mangoes from Mexico, tomatoes from Spain, beans from who knows where, because that is what my grandpa buys from Sam's Club. I eat out at restaurants where I have no choice in where the food came from. But I like the idea of local food. I want to be an organic farmer. So why don't I support local organic farmers? Because it's easier not to. Because I don't do the grocery shopping. Because I don't want to fight my Repulican, anti-anything remotely liberal, anti-green, anti-organic family. It's easier not to. I've already pushed too much, being vegetarian, liberal (shh don't tell), agnostic (shh really don't tell), anti-school, anti-society. If I weren't such a brown-noser, they'd probably disown me.

I have made a difference, though. My family is more willing to eat vegetarian food. We have always gone to the Farmer's Market in the summer, but I'm insisting that we go more often and buy more of our food there. I have a mostly organic vegetable garden, where I'm companion planting and keeping track of crop rotations. Eating locally and seasonally tastes better (a whole lot better than Sam's Club) and it better aligns with my values. And it's not that hard to do most of the time.

One day I plan on eating all organic, mostly local food. I want to grow the majority of it myself. I want to raise my own chickens for eggs, so I know that they have room to move around (not guaranteed by the cage-free label) and actually go outside and eat bugs (not guaranteed by the free-range label). I want them to be able to establish a natural hierarchy and to be physically able to walk and reproduce. I want to milk my own cow and see those sweet cow eyes every morning and every night. I want to use manure on the soil instead of fertilizers created from bomb-making materials. I want to be connected to the earth and sustain it. Sustainability is important whether or not you choose to care. Indifference is not sustainable.

I don't know where I am going with this, or how to bring it back to my original intent for this post. Everything is connected and I have a hard time ignoring those connections once I have found them. What sparked this was finishing the book Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. He tells us the truth about eating animals, why we do it, and what the effect of it is. He tells many different sides of the story, from the perspectives of factory farmers, slaughter house workers (both those that minimize suffering and those that maximize it), small-scale farmers, and, of course, vegetarians. It is filled with statistics (the most conservative he could find - and yet still shocking) and interviews. It is something that everyone who eats should read, but it's unlikely that many will. It's hard to read. It's hard to know. It makes me very sad to know the truth and to know that individually, I can do little. But I can do something. I can encourage others to stop choosing indifference, and I can realize the consequences of every choice I make. It's not easy, but it makes me less sad.

Passivity no longer works for me.

2010-05-07T22:52:00.000-05:00

Last night I ran into the mother of a fellow girl scout. I don’t know her very well; her daughter is two years younger than me and in a different troop, but our troops get together for projects and events every once in a while. So this mother, knowing that I’m a senior in high school, asked me about my college plans. I replied with my typical, “I don’t know; I haven’t applied anywhere,” which is not entirely true. I do know – I don’t plan on going, at least not this year. But I don’t ever say that outright. She said that’s okay, most people don’t know what they want to do for the rest of their lives at my age, and many of them don’t even go into the field they have a degree in anyway. She advised me just to take some classes, try some new things, see what I'm into – not bad advice, but we (I, at least) have heard it so many times it means nothing. Especially to an unschooler. I could go to the library and discover new interests for free. I could take a class anywhere – through community ed, an art studio, the fabric store, etc. I don’t need a course catalog and a general, standardized curriculum to "open" my mind. If college graduates aren’t going into the fields that they majored in, the jobs that they are so well prepared for, than what is the point of a degree? Standardization? Because it’s the norm?

I've never wanted to be normal, except for maybe a few brief moments when I was twelve (who didn't?). I don't like normal. I believe there is something very wrong with our general (normal) idea of what normal is. But I've been raised to think the way everyone else seems to think, and so I have I very hard time discerning what, exactly, is wrong. I have no more than hunches and gut feelings (indigestion, perhaps? hahaha notthetimeforjokes!). I just know that something is wrong. By taking the first steps in my life, I'm doing what I can to change the world for the better (as I see it). Isn't that what we're all ultimately trying to do?

So I'm not going to college because it's a good way to find and get to where I want to go. I'm not going to college because I don't know what else to do with myself. I'm not going to college because I'm expected to. I won't. I don't have the will to do it.

And now I have realized that I'm completely passive about what I want, and even more so about what I say....I have researched many (but not nearly all, or even enough) possibilities, made lists of what I need to do to get there, and written down deadlines. But I haven’t made any real decisions. I haven’t applied, or written essays, or even made up a transcript of my two homeschooling years. I had a large list of what I should do, but because I subconsciously knew it wasn’t right, I actually did very little. Only after missing nearly every "important" deadline did I allow myself to truly consider not going to college at all.

I have a habit of watching things fly by, waiting for bad times to pass. I think it was a survival skill that I developed in school. Ignore it and maybe it'll go away. Float along and maybe I won't sink. It worked for me, somewhat. I endured many years. Then I reached my breaking point and, for the first time ever, I fought for what I wanted. I had to take an active stand for what I believe is right, rather than continue to passively complain about it and refuse to do assignments.

Once again, I'm at a point in my life where I must take an active step. I know what I want now. I know that college would do me little good, and would set me back a whole lot more both financially and emotionally. I need to start telling people this. I need to answer their questions honestly and openly - tell them I'm not going to college anytime soon. Tell them I don't want a career. Tell them I want to be a farmer even though they'll laugh - they always do. Tell them I'm an unschooler and I that don't believe in the need for an official high school diploma. Only when I tell someone what I want will I be able to get it.

10 years of my life were just a bad dream

2010-04-25T20:15:00.000-05:00

Last night I had a terrible dream - a nightmare - that I was back in school.

and I was being docile.
It was awful.
But I had had ENOUGH!
I wanted - no, needed - to get out so badly,
more than I had ever needed anything.
But how to do it?
My parents had thrown me back in.
How to explain to them that I was being crushed again...

It hurt.
It emotionally and physically hurt me to be dreaming this.

I am so fortunate now that this is only a dream and no longer my life.
But there are so many young people that live in this nightmare and have never known how to wake up from it, or even that they can.

Going nowhere, hopefully I'll get there someday soon

2010-04-13T20:56:00.004-05:00

April is halfway over but I'm still stuck on March. I yearn for the days that won't need a number.

I've been reading again. It must seem like that's all I do. Maybe it is.
My topics of late are organic gardening, companion planting, sustainable farming, self-sufficiency. Sewing, quilting (?!), cupcakes, Buddhism. Adult novels, children's novels. Dumpster diving? Maybe not. John Holt and unschooling. Whatever blogs I stumble upon.

Hopefully all this information will come in handy someday. It's more relevant to my life than a college degree, that's certain.

I'm not at a standstill in my life, but I still don't know how to proceed. Everyone seems to want me to believe that my only options are college and work. So I can make money. So I can get a husband and my own house and then, and only then, can I do whatever I want. Yeah, I want a husband and a house, but not just any house in the comfort of suburbia; I want a farm. (Not just any old husband either, but they aren't as easily scrutinized as land.) I don't care about money. I know that's an easy thing to say for someone in a surprisingly well-off middle class family (but we live with my mom's working parents, which helps A LOT). I could do without material possesions and electronics.

I want to one day be completely self-sufficient, growing all my own food - vegetables, fruits, grains, and food for the cows and chickens that provide the milk, eggs, and fertilizer. I'd also like to sell produce at the farmer's market, but that would be a lot more work. I'd have to pay off the land somehow...

I want to live simply and in tune with the earth. What good would it do to pretend like I fit in with the city lifestyle? I'll never feel full as long as I'm here. That's why I need to get out while I still believe I can.

Hoarding freedom

2010-03-25T20:08:00.004-05:00

While poking around links for new blogs I might enjoy, I came across Self-Ed 101: 5 Reasons Why You Should Unschool. This part really stuck out to me:
"Knowing that what they need is freely available (entertainment, comfort, food, sleep, etc) lets children be comfortable enough not to hoard those things. Having the freedom to choose early on helps children establish security in the world around them, and make better choices with the experience they get."

Yeah, that makes sense. I wonder if I'm hoarding anything...

Oh.

My freedom.

I have no obligations, nowhere I have to go, nothing I have to do.
For the first time in my life.
And I won't give it up.

I don't want to go to college. It took me years to escape school, why would I go back?

I am beginning to understand that what is central to all motivation is choice. We are much more likely to do the things we choose to do and to resent what we are told to do. The more I am asked (prodded) about my college plans, my college plans, the less I want to even think about it. If I go, I want it to be my choice. Yet everyone around me wants me to feel like I have no choice. Like I am obligated.
They say,

You're so smart, so talented...
It'd be such a waste if you didn't go...
If I were that smart...
You could do anything you wanted to...

But they don't hear their own words. They're not so interested in what I want to do, only what I could want to do.

I don't believe what anyone says. I'll turn out okay, no matter what I end up doing in my life. I'm hoarding my freedom.

WARM and FRESH. So pleasant!

2010-03-14T21:24:00.000-05:00

IT IS LIKE SEVENTY (BILLION) DEGREES OUTSIDE!!!!!
The high in St. Paul for today was 64!!!!!!!!
That is definitely something to get excited about!

So, to celebrate the weather, I took my dog for a walk.
I TOOK MY DOG FOR A WALK!
We had a jolly good time down by the river. I love living by the river, even if it is dirty, smelly, and noisy (railroad!). I love that my city has paved a trail alongside it, and fenced in a dog park, and built "the bridge to nowhere," according to my dad and various other domesticated old men, that makes it easily accessible. I love seeing people out with their dogs and their friends and their strollers. As much as I would like to experience the river and the ravine in solitude, I am glad that others care too. Without them there would be no reason to have a trail or a dog park.

From my itty bitty composition notebook that I stuck in my pocket:

I love this.
What more to life is there?
the smells so nice,
the sounds so sweet...
Okay, so it smells musty and dusty,
like rotting leaves and water runoff.
And so it is.
But there is a sort of
serene beauty
in the Earth's reclaiming of itself.
And the chirps and whistles are
drowned out by the
breaking of airplanes
and the constant
hum of the freeway

Does the contrast make this place
more lovely? No.
But I appreciate the loveliness more.

It always looks cuter on the notebook page than on the screen. Maybe it's the mess of my handwriting.

What I dream the day might send, just around the riverbend!

2010-03-14T21:01:00.000-05:00

I have always wanted to live by the river like Pocahontas. I've always wanted to be Pocahontas. And I was enamored by the Niagara river in The Day the Falls Stood Still by Cathy Marie Buchanan. I thought the river was an ideal place to live. I put it on my list on things to look for when choosing a place to live. Then, a
DUH
moment.
I already live by a river! Duh duh duh!
It's like 10 minutes away, walking.
I just don't often think of it. I have no reason to. I can't swim in it and I wouldn't boat or fish in it. I don't see it every day because the levees are high and there are usually buildings or trees blocking the view anyway. I run by it every once in a while.

Yet the river is the reason I am here.
It is the reason the stockyards were built where they were and the houses and businesses that followed. It's the reason for the indian tribe that our schools are named after. It's the reason my very-great-grandparents came here, instead of the many other cities that make up the Twin Cities area.

I love the river, and I love my city, as much as I pretend to resent it. It has a small town feel, yet it's minutes from St. Paul. It sucks people in and doesn't let them out. But why would they want to? It really is more ideal than we give it credit for.

I am an artist; books are my canvas?

2010-02-28T22:10:00.007-06:00

I need a hobby. Or a job on magazine photo shoots. I spend way too much time arranging my stuff.

I was sitting in my room the other day, just looking at my bookshelf for something to do, when I had a little epiphany. Color! I had never arranged it by color! Always subject and size, and ways to display my horses. But I'd never been so ambitious as to arrange it by color!

It took all night. I had stacks and piles all over the bed, the floor, the desk, my legs... I am pleased with the result, but, of course, not quite satisfied with one element - the red. iIt would probably look better without the horse, but then what would I do with the horse? A whole herd has already been displaced and is now, regrettably, jammed on the top of the shelf [see below]. No way I could comfortably fit another, and I don't have three more red books.

[space art by my aunt Rae]

Yes, I still play with my American Girl dolls. They are Annabell (1998) and Kit (2010). I refuse to grow up. On the left is an American Girl IllumaRoom. It was a stable but is now functioning as some kind of...room. In a house. Yep. I actually built the dresser, wall shelf, and desk inside. I know, weird hobby for a 17-year-old to have. I have a lot of weird hobbies...

Be my zalenteen!

2010-02-16T16:09:00.006-06:00

Valentine's Day is a stupid Hallmark marketing scheme blah blah blah. Chocolate is gross, candy is gross, sugar makes people fat blah blah blah. Usually I try my hardest to act like Valentine's Day doesn't exist. It's a dumb holiday and I don't like chocolate and I don't have a valentine anyway. So I don't know what came over me this year. For some reason, I was compelled to make valentines and mail them to my friends. Totally (sort of?) out of character. However, instead of the frilly red and pink handmade cards that come to mind, I made a colorful zine (my first copy machine zine!) that wasn't frilly or sappy or overly pink. Each copy is one piece of paper, strategically cut (okay, I googled it) and folded to make a small booklet. I colored and commented each one uniquely in 10 or so shades of colored pencil.

Here are pictures: (I hope you can see/read them. I'm too lazy to add captions.)

lalala somewhat relevant song lyrics lalalala

2010-01-26T19:49:00.005-06:00

I just discovered today on the drive to a high school fencing meet that Minneapolis really is a cool city. I've never really seen much of Minneapolis, even though I live pretty close. I've seen a lot more of St. Paul because it's closer and my parents are much more willing to drive there. I thought they would be pretty much the same (they are the Twin Cities, after all), but they're not. Minneapolis has a much more "big city" feel, which surprised me because I've never experienced that in Minnesota before. The only big cities I've been to are Des Moines (briefly) and Denver (really cool! we stayed downtown and rode the free bus going up and down the street and saw some guy selling drugs). From my (very limited) experience, Des Moines and St. Paul are like sheep and Denver and Minneapolis are LIONS! Okay, I exaggerate. But you get the point. My perception has totally changed - maybe Minnesota is not so bad after all.

Our women's foil team won at the meet. It feels SO GOOD to finally win my bouts after 4 years of nearly always losing!

It's all over. YESSSSSS.

2010-01-25T16:49:00.005-06:00

I read 79 new, 100+ paged books last year. My goal was 100. That means I passed, right? According to school standards, I'm just above a C, or average. According to my standards, I'm at HOLY SHIT I READ SEVENTY-NINE BOOKS LAST YEAR! That's a lot!

1-25
26-50
Here are the rest: (I especially recommend those in sea foam green)
51. My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult
52. Beauty by Robin McKinley
53. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
54. Define Normal by Julie Anne Peters
55. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
56. On the Road by Jack Kerouac
57. The Little Black Book of Style by Nina Garcia
58. Savvy by Ingrid Law
59. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
60. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave Written by Himself
61. The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hahn
62. Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy
63.Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (this was surprisingly not bad! lol)
64. The Writing Workshop Note Book by Alan Ziegler (great if you want to be a better writer)
65. Love Will Tear Us Apart by Sarah Rainone
66. Spindle's End by Robin McKinley
67. David & Della by Paul Zindel
68. There's No Place Like Here by Cecelia Ahern
69. You or Someone Like You by Chandler Burr
70. This is Your Brain on Music by Daniel Levithan
71. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
72. The Moon is Down by John Steinbeck
73. Skipping Christmas by John Grisham (the movie is Christmas with the Kranks)
74. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
75. Are These My Basoomas I See in Front of Me? by Louise Rennison
76. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
77. Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse
78. Riding Lessons by Sara Gruen
79. The Soloist by Mark Salzman

Teen fiction: 6
Adult fiction: 8
Classics: 9
Nonfiction: 6

Total for the year:
Classics: 14/79 - 17.7%
Adult Fiction: 14/79 - 17.7%
Nonfiction: 20/79 - 25.3%

-There are a reason classics are so classic - they are good! They challenge one's perspectives.
-I have, for the most part, given up disposable teen novels. They have no literary value, and are no longer relevant to my life. The problem is, many adult novels aren't relevant either.

It was a good year! So far in 2010, I have finished Life of Pi by Yann Martel (very good) and started reading (and underlining, and commenting on) Walden by Henry David Thoreau. I am running out of books to read, but I can't go to the library because I have over $70 in fines... (Whoops!)

Jan-you-airy

2010-01-13T21:41:00.003-06:00

I hate winter. No, that's not true. I love the first few weeks, the fresh snow, the crisp air...
I hate the dry cold, the icy sidewalks, the slush in the road, the wardrobe limitations.
I can't wait for the snow to melt and the sun to shine so I can enjoy being outside again. Since I quit school I have spent so much more time being outside - running, biking to and from places, gardening, writing, and just being outside. I miss it.

I spent so much time on Christmas that I don't know what to do with myself now that it's over. I don't need to read any more books, last year's resolution is done YESSSS. I have to post on that...

I'm not taking any community college classes this semester. I didn't enjoy it like I hoped I would. I was terribly bored by the second half of the semester and I stopped caring (i.e. I stopped doing homework and going to class every week...). There are no classes offered that really excite me and are at a decent time. Also, very importantly, I could learn all of the material in less than a quarter of the time I would spend in class. That's why I stopped going to high school. I know, how am I ever going to go to a real college? I don't know. So far, I haven't applied anywhere. I just don't care enough. If nothing else, I might go to St. Catherine's next year and then maybe transfer or do something else, get a job possibly? hahaha (no). St. Kate's is close, so I could live at home, continue fencing, taking piano lessons, being a general help (bother) to my family, etc. and MOST IMPORTANTLY it has rolling admissions!!! I can apply anytime! and I don't need 30 recommendations from academic teachers, excessive test scores, proof of lab experience, graded writing samples, blah, blah, blah. No frills admission, just the bare minimum! My kind of application. Of course, there is the (minor) detail that I don't desire to go to that particular school, but I am willing to try it out for a year. Maybe.

ack

2009-12-08T16:40:00.004-06:00

Ever write something and later forget what it means? I wrote this in March; I was typing a bunch of stuff up for future use in a zine or something. I came across this, and I have no idea what the context is. It could be a lot of things...

Let's quit.

oh, I understand
more than you think
more than they know

It’s all just a game
we’ll never win
just luck out and die
what a wonderful surprise

so maybe it’s better
but it’s still not any good
we didn’t think it would

what did we expect
it’s a change of hand
but the majority rules
always has, always will

Where I'm at

2009-12-05T09:43:00.004-06:00

I feel so behind.
on Christmas,
on college applications,
on life in general.
and some things I just don't care to catch up on.

I have a lot of sewing to do.
I've been unable to do it,
which is just as good as intentional procrastination.
Now, who knows if it'll get done?

The decorating is done,
which is half the stress,
and I don't think I'm taking that into account.

The college applications are not done.
Barely even started.
The transcript?
A rough draft.
Essays?
I have a topic idea...
Homeschool philosophy?
No idea if what I wrote will work.
I was scared, emotional, and truthful when I wrote it.
I don't think that's what they want.

What do they want?
Sheep.
Followers of the herd.
I left the herd.
Ran from the herd without even a glance back.
I make a poor sheep.

New Month's Resolution: a trial before the new year

2009-12-01T21:38:00.004-06:00

Some dude named Stendhal once said, "Vingt lignes par jour, genie ou pas." That translates to "Eight lines a day, genius or not." [EDIT: vingt means twenty, not eight. Ack!] I have no idea who Stendhal is, other than a writer of some sort. I came across this quote in The Writer's Workshop Notebook by Alan Ziegler and I've had it on a red post-it stuck to my bookcase for a month or two now... So, no time like the present. My December duty will be to write eight lines a day, genius or (more likely) not. I'll have to find some narrow paper.

Thanksgiving is over, another disappointment. I don't know what I was expecting. Halloween was boring (I used to love it!), but I blamed that one getting H1N1 (not fun. I don't recommend it). Christmas better be magical, because I really have some high expectations for this one.

I decorated one of our trees today. It's pink and gold and beautiful, with an old-fashioned feel (or perhaps just old...). That one was 7 feet. Tomorrow I'll be working on one that's somewhere around 11-12 feet high. The rest of the house is decorated; before Thanksgiving I put up 4 village scenes and my sisters distributed the angels and the Santas. Two more Nativity scenes and the ornaments on the garland going down the stairs and we'll be done, just in time for my mom's PEO Christmas party. (PEO is a top-secret women's organization sworn to acronym secrecy. I think they have something to do with education, but you didn't hear it from me...)

I'm sewing all my gifts this year. It's going to be aprons or pajama pants, take your pick.

Well, I've gotten eight lines and I still haven't said anything.
Typical me.

Do I have the hang of it yet? Of course (not).

2009-09-08T09:36:00.004-05:00

The first day of school. I woke up crabby this morning, and I'm not even going to school.

Well, all side-effects of anxiousness, nervousness, anticipation, and dread have left me. For breakfast, I had coffee and a really good muffin at the local coffee shop with my mom, which completely erased any lingering fear of school. I love how going to school was not even an option to my mom. She is so glad she agreed to homeschooling. [see that? your parents won't regret it!]

Classes at the community college started like two weeks ago. I'm taking astronomy and cultural anthropology on campus, both of which are 3-4 hours one day a week, so I only have to go out there 2 days of the week. I planned well. I'm also taking an online writing class. It's accelerated, so its only 8 weeks instead of 14 or 16 or whatever it is and it is more work! I failed 10th grade English because I refused to write a few stupid papers, and here I am, taking a college course full of them. With MLA documentation. What was I thinking?! Oh yeah. Admission into a selective college with a great reputation. Grinnell. Amherst. Brown.

I think I have to take some SAT II subject tests this year. Oh bother. I should probably see what I have to do about that. And AP Calculus BC. (what is with all these acronyms??)

I'm feeling chatty today. I need social contact. Too bad half my friends are away at college and the other half are stuck at Local High School having their brains turn into the nasty mush applesauce that is probably being served for lunch today with a side of sodium, preservatives, and high fructose corn syrup.

I have a lot of things I want to share. I haven't posted anything since July! I'm going to try to post once a week and count this as "Creative Writing" on my transcript. I think like a homeschooler, no?

What is with my obsession with quotes-of-the-day? I don't know. I just like them.
"I can't bring myself to say, 'Well, I guess I'll be toddling along.' It isn't that I can't toddle. It's just that I can't guess I'll toddle." - Robert Benchley
WHAT??? This is like something I would say. Just to say something. Profound.

Fifty, finally!

2009-07-13T13:59:00.004-05:00

I should join a support group for procrastinators. However, I am sure no true procrastinator would ever get around to starting a support group, finding one, or joining one. Too bad.

I finished books 26-50 for the year, and only 12 days later than I wanted to...

I recommend books in peach.

26. The God Box by Alex Sanchez [this book (though fictional) counters every religious argument against homosexuality]
27. Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson selected by J. Donald Adams
28. Choices for the High School Graduate by Bryna J. Fireside
29. How to Practice: The Way to a Meaningful Life by H.H. the Dalai Lama
30. The Girl Who Married a Lion & other tales from Africa by Alexander McCall Smith
31. The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly
32. Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
33. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
34. Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher
35. Paper Towns by John Green
36. Forever Princess by Meg Cabot
37. Derby Girl by Shauna Cross
38. The Compassionate Carnivore by Catherine Friend [on how to care about animal welfare, but be able to enjoy meat]
39. In Beautiful Disguises by Rajeev Balasubramanyam
40. Luna by Julie Ann Peters
41. Eight Seconds by Jan Ferris
42. How Do You Spell Geek? by Julie Ann Peters
43. 100 Selected Poems by e.e. cummings
44. Stop Pretending by Sonya Sones
45. Whatcha Mean, What's a Zine? by Mark Todd & Esther Pearl Watson
46. Love & Lies by Ellen Wittlinger
47. The Story of My Life by Helen Keller
48. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
49. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
50. The Spoken Word Revolution edited by Mark Eleveld and Marc Smith

I was trying to finish fifty by July 1 (so I would allow myself to re-read New Moon before the movie comes out IAMNOTOBSESSEDIAMNOTOBSESSED). I did get 48, but the last 10 or so were all short, easy reads... I really need to stop reading disposable teen fluff. I get nothing out of them but short-lived, irrational pleasure.

Young Adult/Teen novels: too many (10)
Adult novels: 6 (3 classics)
Non-fiction: 9, including 3 poetry collections, one of short stories, and a biography

Not bad, but I could do better...

Food is good, good food is better

2009-07-11T14:22:00.005-05:00

There is an article in the St. Paul Pioneer Press (one of the two major newspapers in the Twin Cities) about how to get kids to eat healthier without bribing them ("Dinnertime Dilemma" by Maja Beckstrom, featuring an interview with a family doctor and food educator, Katja Rowell. No, I do not know how to cite. My 10 years of public school has failed me.)

In the article, Rowell explains that the best way to get kids to eat food is to have it available, set an example by eating it yourself, and DON'T PRESSURE THEM. (obviously, I believe that last point is the most important.) As a child, I was never told to eat my vegetables. Dessert was never a reward. We ate (eat) dinner together every night, and always had a good variety of vegetables and meat. Good food was available and I was hungry, so I ate it. We had ice cream whenever we wanted it, but I almost always preferred fruit. I grew up having the choice to eat what I wanted, and now I have healthy eating habits (the healthiest in my family...).

As I have mentioned, my cousins (girls aged 8 and 10) are living with my family for 6 months while their mother is in Iraq. They have a single mother (she adopted them from China), and usually have a nanny living with them. They don't eat meals at home regularly, except mac & cheese for breakfast (seriously! my mom refuses to make it for them, so they eat Crunchberries instead). One will eat most food just fine, but the older one refuses to eat any vegetable except potatoes. She won't even try anything. And of course, her mother caters to that, and feeds her pasta all the time (all she eats is pasta...). That is not acceptable at my house. So far, no one has bribed her to eat anything, but they will talk (complain) about her when she's not around. She takes too much food (she doesn't know how to portion food, fast food comes pre-portioned), she doesn't eat her crusts but will take 10 slices of bread, etc. And the worst part (to my grandparents at least), she won't sing "The Lord is Good to Me" (ya know, the Johnny Appleseed song...). We used to sing it all the time when I was younger (as our prayer)*, but we haven't in years. However, my grandpa declared that we will now sing it every night until she sings along. Well, of course she won't. She won't do anything she is forced to do.

There is a struggle with them every day. They have different rules and ways of living that they are used to, and my dad has rules that he won't let go of. My family is treating these girls differently than I was treated, and I don't understand why. They won't just let it go and have them learn on their own. They are trying to push these girls into molds that are too small to fit.

Idzie has something to say about choice as well. She starts talking about food around 2:30, and comments on other issues of personal freedom and choice.

*On the other hand, I was forced into religion, and am now agnostic, which my mother thinks is synonymous with athiest (and shameful).

I suck at blogging.

2009-06-24T23:53:00.004-05:00

Well, it's summer. If you didn't know that already, you do now.

Things I have done since the last time I blogged:
-got a new bookshelf. it is 5 ft x 5 ft with big cubes. it's black. it's from ikea. it is beautiful (and very useful!)
-forgot how to write. oh, wait. i never knew how. (i am saying this in my head in a monotone voice.)
-I've been painting this small ceramic village piece. It's a bakery and something else. I started a month ago, but I can't seem to finish it. Or anything else, for that matter.
-I blame the public school system for my procrastination and poor time-management skills. If I grew up like a natural kid (aka UNSCHOOLER or even a regular homeschooler), I might know what to do with myself all day.
-I've read a lot of books. My July 1 goal is 50 (halfway) and I on numbers 47 and 48. I've read a book a day for the last week, I swear. So much for two per week.
-I haven't blogged. Duh. (I am feeling very state-the-obvious-like-I-think-it's-funny tonight. I realize that I am not amusing. Perhaps it is the lack of sleep?)
-I made a zine!!!!! okay, that was not enough emphasis.
I MADE A ZINE!!!!!
I am very excited. Somehow me and my cousin got on the subject of zines, I think because I had a library book on pop culture for teens or something like that (lame book, but anyway...) and it mentioned zines. I was like, I always wanted to make one of those. And she was like, Let's do it! Right now! We stayed up until 1 am, at which time I declared it was "way past my bedtime" and went to bed. She hasn't finished hers (I don't blame her - she has few materials/resources/space/general knowledge of zines (she was staying with me and left the next day)), but I finished mine!! And I think it is good. And quite possibly hinting at a smidge of wit on one of the pages. But mine is one-of-a-kind, not meant to be copied and/or distributed. That is for issue #2.
-I started making a Stupid Sock Creature. I'd post a link, but I'm lazy and suck at blogging, so why try so hard? Google it or look for the book Stupid Sock Creatures by John Murphy. It's a good one. My creature is named Pyj because its pattern reminds me of pajamas.
-I have been to grad parties every weekend since graduation. Half of them, I didn't even know real well (or at all). I went with friends.
-I have been asked at least 3 times if I am going to graduate with [local high school]. No. I will not be issued a diploma by [local high school]. I will not walk or wear an ugly robe or throw an ugly hat around. I am a student of the school district, but not of the high school, so I will not graduate with the high school. Some people don't understand this... I tell them I will come watch graduation next year. I'm not that bitter... (I am somewhat bitter, though, so I won't even consider going back. No way in hell. And I don't even believe in hell.)
-"Hi, how are you? I'm good. And oh, by the way, I'm being deployed to Afghanistan, so you'll have to take my children for six months. Bye, have a nice summer!" Okay, so it didn't exactly go this way...I got two weeks notice.
My mom's best friend is in the Air Force. She well ranked, a commander or something, and a doctor, I don't really know and that is not the point. She is a single woman. She adopted two girls from China who are now 8 and 10. They were here last summer for (a very long) 6 weeks without her (she was moving from Turkey to Colorado and whatnot and it was easier on her). She is being deployed for 6 months and can't take her kids to Afghanistan, so they are coming to stay with my family (my mom is legal guardian if their mom dies or gets deployed, as is the case here). I had plans for this summer, my last free summer before all this college crap gets in my way. Those plans must now be reworked to include two little annoying shadows. If I weren't above it, I'd say fml (but I am, so I don't say that.). I will make it work. At least I am mentally and emotionally in a better place than I was last summer when they were here.

So, I've been typing for a while and I suck at blogging so much [;)] I don't care to revise. I hope everything makes sense. I'll probably post again in another month or five.
haha I am such a funnyhead not.

Stalker, or college mail?

2009-06-01T09:30:00.003-05:00

My email inbox:

Checking in with you, Molly
I haven't forgotten about you, Molly
An important question for you...
You've been chosen by ______
Waiting to hear from you, Molly
Haven't we convinced you yet?
I'd like to know more...
Am I reaching Molly ______?
It's been a while, Molly
This could be your final chance...
One last message, Molly
Response requested from Molly

Either I'm being stalked, or I checked the little box on the PSAT to send my information out to colleges.

Listen

2009-05-26T21:45:00.005-05:00

Today I finished reading Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher.

From the inside cover: "Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a strange package with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers several cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker--his classmate and crush--who committed suicide two weeks earlier. Hannah's voice explains that there are thirteen reasons she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he'll find out why. Clay spends the night crisscrossing his town with Hannah as his guide. He becomes a first-hand witness to Hannah's pain, and learns the truth about himself--a truth he never wanted to face."

I started to cry while reading it at the library. In a study room, with my back to the glass door. I had to finish it at home.

What I was thinking: this could have been me. I'm sure many of the people who have read it have thought the same thing.

I was depressed. More than once-it was certain months of the year (excluding summer-my days were so much more free), starting in 7th grade. I hated school. Last year was the worst. I cried my way through August, desperately searching for a charter school, a private school, anything but my high school. I made my mind up that I was going to homeschool myself, but that didn't happen until a year later. I looked into PSEO (college enrollment for 11th and 12th graders, paid for by the state of MN), but I was only in 10th grade, so I wasn't eligible. I dreaded going back to school. I lost. I did my homework, like the good little sheep I never was. I have never felt so horrible in my life as I did those first two weeks of school. After that, I was numb. I stopped trying to do the homework. I stopped crying. I stopped thinking about it, and drifted through the days. I failed English because I refused to write some stupid paper that my teacher wouldn't have graded fairly anyway. I was supposed to fail again in spring, but the same teacher didn't have the balls to do it, so I got a D in the same week I got a 36 in English on the ACT (out of 36). Ironic, isn't it? The majority of my "education" was.

"I do learn here, but that's not what school is for me.
-Then what is it for you?
A place. Just a place filled with people that I'm required to be with."
Hannah speaking to her guidance counselor and teacher, Mr. Porter

That's all it was. Passive intake of information. People I don't relate to.

I needed to get out. Luckily, I did.
Someone listened to me. I had help. But there are so many young people out there with there with their souls being crushed and their minds getting trampled. Who will listen to them?

"Looking back, I stopped writing in my notebook when I stopped wanting to know myself anymore."

Like Hannah, writing was my escape. I used to write all the time. I always carried around a notebook specifically designated for my writing. But there were times when I wouldn't write for weeks. Months. And then there were times when it was more of a journal - "I'm sitting in Chemistry and I'm bored. I hate this class. This is pointless. This funny thing happened in lunch today... I saw this cute boy today..." Less and less of what I felt because I didn't want to feel it anymore. I couldn't admit how much I hurt while being stuck there every day. Afraid that if I thought about it, it would be worse.

Getting out of school was the best thing I have ever done.
I never considered suicide, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't have if I were there this year. It was getting to be too much for me to handle. Yeah, I have a lot of support from my family. I am strong. But would I have been strong enough?

Last summer is what threw me over the edge. I had two sort-of cousins, girls aged 7 and 9, staying at my house for the summer. Since everyone else worked, I was stuck with them every day for two months. They were a lot to handle and never left me alone for more than 10 minutes at a time. They took my summer. My escape. The only time I had to dream. To recover. To care. I don't blame them; it wasn't their fault I stayed depressed into summer. I also had summer school, which wasn't bad (a hell of a lot better than the English class I willingly failed - and worth it to). With that, I said goodbye to school. I knew I couldn't go back. I wasn't accepted into PSEO at the U of M. I knew a charter school or a private school or a non-IB (Indoctrination & Bullshit, also known as International Baccalaureate) school wouldn't be any better. I made up my mind never to go back. With the help of my aunt (who knew I was serious - I cried every time I tried talking about it and still cry as I write this) and against the advice of my former Gifted Program Coodinator (3-6 grade), I convinced my mom to let me learn on my own terms. I had nothing to lose - high ACT scores, a desire to learn (long lost in most students), and I could go back if it didn't work (not that I ever would have). For once, I had a say. And she listened. For that, I am so grateful - and she is too!

I don't mean to sound whiny about how much my life sucked. I don't see it that way at all. The experiences have shaped me and helped me to appreciate what I have now. I had hope, and I want to give that to others.

stupidteststupidnumbersstupidsystem

2009-05-01T20:55:00.003-05:00

I'm taking the SAT tomorrow. I am not excited.

I do not enjoy standardized testing. No Child Left Behind is counter-productive. Students are taught the test and end up not learning a thing except how to properly fill in a bubble sheet. They end up being Left Behind in Life. [I was going to render unscorable a "grad standard" test I took last year. I chickened out; I didn't want a re-take. Had I known I would be homeschooled, I would have shredded that thing with my teeth.]

I am only taking this FOUR HOUR test because some college admissions officers (like they know anything) decided it might be fun, a "rite of passage," perhaps, to subject the nation's (and many other countries) 16 and 17-year-olds to a humiliating and demeaning exam. The call it the Great Equalizer - compare your marks to other applicants, as if they will set you apart. As if they could define you.

I will not let my score equal my self-value. I am incomparable to my state's average. The numbers are meaningless and can in no way represent me, only my ability to sit still and concentrate on filling in circles for FOUR HOURS. I refuse to let FOUR HOURS dictate my life's direction. I do not understand how anyone can.

Having said all this, I must tell you that I am expecting a very high score. I am not bitter about this test because I am afraid I will not do well. I am more afraid of doing too well.

does this make me a bibliophile?

2009-04-26T16:13:00.005-05:00

I finished my 25th book yesterday (my New Year's Resolution is to read 100). I am only a month behind...

Here is my list: (my favorites are in yellow)
1. The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo
2. The Revolt of Cinderella by Betty Blocklinger
3. Tell it to Naomi by Daniel Ehrenhaft
4. Cut by Patricia McCormick
5. The Pigman & Me by Paul Zindel
6. Sensitive by Nina Wright
7. It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini
8. Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn & David Levithan
9. New Day Revolution by Sam Davidson & Stephen Mosely
10. My Brother's Keeper by Patricia McCormick
11. The Time Machine by H.G. Wells
12. Buddhism Plain & Simple by Steve Hagen
13. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
14. Hacking Harvard by Robin Wasserman
15. Hard Love by Ellen Wittlinger
16. You Know Where to Find Me by Rachel Cohn
17. Sunshine by Robin McKinley
18. The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff
19. The Tent by Margaret Atwood
20. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon
21. Donorboy by Brendan Halpin
22. Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson
23. The Pigman by Paul Zindel
24. Coraline by Neil Gaiman (audiobook)
25. The Teenage Liberation Handbook by Grace Llewellyn (I read it a year too late! well, actually about 8 years...)

Of these twenty-five,
5 are nonfiction, 1 of essays and poems
5 are adult fiction, 2 classics
1 is juvenile fiction (children's)
14 are young adult fiction

My next 25 will include more nonfiction and adult fiction, as well as different forms of writing - poetry, essays, plays, etc. Any suggestions on good books?

Smells like poop. Awesome!

2009-04-24T19:07:00.004-05:00

I went to the MN Horse Expo today at the State Fairgrounds. There were vendors all over the streets and the buildings selling horse stuff you never knew you needed. The streets had piles of horse poop everywhere. It was great.

I watched a very interesting demonstration on horse anatomy by Susan Harris called Anatomy in Motion - The Visible Horse. [Check out the pictures on the website!] A horse's muscular system and skeletal system are painted on with washable paints and markers (so it comes off easily), which takes 2-3 hours. In the demonstration, Susan named all of the bones and how they compare to human bones and then had the horse trotted around to show how they move. Then she went on to the muscle side, but we left by then to go see another demonstration (I wanted to stay, but I am a good sport and the only one with a cell phone). I learned quite a bit - a horse's head weighs around 40-50 pounds (!) and is supported by an extremely flexible neck, a horse's front "knee" is homologous (comparable) to a human's wrist, and how to place a saddle to avoid discomfort on the backbones (there are 18) or the shoulder blades. Fascinating!

I have the Breyer model!

We went to a horse scrapbooking thing (funner than I expected) and the 4-H tack sale. I got 3 pairs of breeches (riding pants) for $19, way better than the usual $60 or more per pair from a catalog. Happy day! I hope they fit...

booksbooksbooks on a Very Good Day

2009-04-23T21:59:00.004-05:00

Today was a Very Good Day.

First, I had a good breakfast at the local coffee shop. We actually have one of those in my town! It is just what we need, too; it's honestly the nicest place in town. It's not even snobbish, everyone here loves it. [To give you some context, my city has around 20,000 people, mostly working-class. It was built up as a cow town along the Mississippi, but the stockyards recently closed and is being rebuilt into large, ugly office buildings. The houses are mostly post-WWII era. There are lots of old people. Once you come in, you never leave. Such is my fate. :/]

Second, I went to the library where I volunteer (my aunt is the librarian at a small private elementary school) and my aunt had me discard a bunch of old books. I enjoy discarding books. It is much more pleasant than, say, fixing call numbers in the computer system or making sure every single book on the shelf is in the right order. I do those tasks willingly, but they are not particularly fun. Anyway, as I was saying, I was discarding books. As I was doing this, I came across a few (ok, more than a few, but I held back) books that I wanted to take. Some of them I am going to just keep to read and enjoy and whatnot, but a few I am planning on ripping up and putting the pictures on my wall as some kind of, er, art, and I might even attempt to do an altered book. Altered books are pretty cool; I've never made one, but I've always wanted to and now I have some books to try it on! I might put in some poetry/verse/whateverI'mcallingit and other pictures and do interesting things with the pages, like cut out sections. I don't know, hopefully I will find some long-lost creativity from my earlier days...

Also, if that weren't enough library books happiness, I went to the public library with my sister, and whaddyaknow? there's a book sale going on! So, of course, I had to check it out... I got 6 things for $2.50 - way cheaper than the Barnes & Noble prices that make me want to cry. Books should be cheaper and more accessible! No wonder no one reads books! They are cheaper then Wii games though...

Here is what I got:

The titles are Horse Feathers and Other Curious Words; The Golden Book of Animals; I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings; The Primates; The Moon; Making the Alphabet Dance; Stud: Adventures in Breeding; Take a Number: New ideas + imagination = more fun; The Art of Ancient Egypt; The Christopher Robin Storybook; Let's Go to the Moon; Instant Math. There is also a Backstreet Boys video (I love them!).

And, if that weren't enough, it was 80 DEGREES!!!! I don't even know what to say to that! dsjfirornrivaolsd!! 80 degrees in April in Minnesota. It blows my mind!

Cucumis metuliferus

2009-04-22T10:19:00.007-05:00

A few days ago, my sister bought a very strange-looking fruit at the grocery store. It looked like alien food. She says it reminded her of me.

It's a horned melon, or kiwano. They are related to cucumbers and melons and native to Africa. It tasted like a combination of kiwi, cucumber, and a not-quite-ripe banana (i.e. very odd). The seeds (the part that is eaten) are like cucumber seeds, but with more gel stuff around them. I apparently cut it the wrong way, but I really had no idea what I was doing...

Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not a writer...

2009-04-17T15:06:00.004-05:00

Today I dug out my old notebooks from 7th and 8th grade and played some of the songs I wrote on my bari uke. When I wrote them, I thought they were pretty good and I thought I was pretty cool for writing songs...now I look at them and I am not impressed. The lyrics don't seem as clever as they once did, and the melodies are nothing special. Still, they are the best songs I've written; I haven't written a single song since 8th grade. The only one I still like has a total of 7 lines (too few to ruin it!). The rest are all either way to reminiscent of my Hilary Duff days, or show my transition into Evanescence. My musical tastes have changed quite a bit in the last few years!

I have saved every (journalish) notebook I've had since around 5th or 6th grade, along with most of my planners (there's some good and funny stuff in there!). I have like 8 notebooks in a box, plus a binder full of ripped out pages that were good. One day, when I write a novel or a memoir, I will have a lot of material! I am a hoarder, I have trouble throwing out even the weirdest and most embarrassing things I've written. If it weren't for that school-depression-I-don't-even-want-to-write phase, I would have trouble containing everything under my bed. And I won't even tell you about the stacks of notebooks and folders from every class I have taken in the last 4-5 years...

TOO MUCH SUGAR!!!

2009-04-12T18:05:00.004-05:00

I had the funnest and funniest Easter ever! I cried, I was laughing so hard!

We went to my Aunt Monica's house (and it's her husband's house too, but he's not really part of my funny story). She is notorious for giving away junk as Christmas presents, etc. So today, she had two cousins write numbers on little slips of paper and put them into plastic eggs, and had someone go around and give all of the adults and older cousins an egg. Then she called numbers (1-10, 11-20, etc. - there were at least 40 people there, I have a big family), and whoever had their number called got to go claim a "prize." The prizes were all little ceramic bunnies, random decorations, random junk, etc. which is really funny, at least it was to us. We did the whole, "Oh, Monica cleaned out the closet again!" and "We should re-gift all her junk back to her at Christmas!" Then, when she went off to talk in another room, a bunch of cousins (and my mom, she was the worst one!) took all the eggs and hid them all over her house! We hid at least 50 eggs...in the couches, in the flowers, in random decorations...it will take her years to find them all. Then we switched two small couches around. A bit later, she came into the room and said to my mom, who was sitting on one of the couches, "That is a really comfy couch. We had it in the basement, but I said to Joe, we just gotta bring that couch up..." and she patted the couch and everything! The one we just switched! I was trying so hard not to burst out laughing. We also switched some chairs (she looked right at one - nothing! she is so oblivious!), some flowers, and hid some ugly Easter decorations around the house...she found one of them outside...I had nothing to do with any of it I swear... My sisters and I also short-sheeted the bed, which is a trick she taught us. You take the bottom sheet and fold it in half (er, hamburger-style?), so when the person gets into bed, they can only put their feet down halfway. I don't know if it works, but it sure is fun to do!

I am insensitive and selfish. And sorry.

2009-04-10T16:18:00.003-05:00

scared,
they hold onto their last bits of
freedom
and independence
stubbornly.
I can still do this!
they shout.
They feel that
they must, or else
they will wither
shrivel up and
d i e .
So they hold on
to what they can,
give up the rest in shame.
They cry.
Their bodies betray them
their minds left behind
their families push them away.
They are locked up inside themselves
desperately trying to go back
or, at the very least,
trying to hold on
to what little they have left.

Starbucks before bed is not a good idea

2009-04-09T21:56:00.003-05:00

I go to the library way too often. I go like twice a week, I swear...and that's restraining myself. I'd go everyday if I had time. And if I could/would read all the time. I always have twice as many books as I'll ever read checked out, and every time I go, I get more than I return. I'd just stop going, but I requested some things and they come in steadily and will only be held for me for a week. I want to resist! I do! Okay, so maybe I don't...

If I had a point, I've forgotten it already.

My New Year's Resolution is to read 100 books by the end of the year (rules: no re-reads, 100 pages min.). I finished #22 today (Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson - very good! made me cry a little...). I am behind. Good thing summer is coming, although I don't know if I'll have much more time. My college classes will be over in early May, and my mom won't expect me to be doing much "schoolwork" (she doesn't know I'm not doing much now...mostly reading and my college classes), but I don't want to take a big formal break. I'll probably just continue what I'm doing (not much) with a really loose schedule. Maybe I'll get a job. Nah, probably not. I am too afraid to do an interview (I'm not very good at talking to people) and too picky about where I'd want to work.

PED XING

2009-04-06T18:55:00.003-05:00

I love good drivers. I was running today, and instead of making me wait and wait and WAIT for the stupid cars to stop coming (seriously, where could they all possibly be going? all at the same time!), some nice person stopped to let me across. I was sending them mental thank-you and karma signals, but I don't know if they were recieved because I was a little distracted with actually getting across the street. I also love it when people make the effort to veer toward the center when there is a pedestrian (I love that word- so formal) on the side of the road. Thank you to all good drivers everywhere, I hope to become one when (if) I get my license. I am 16 now, but I don't want to take driver's ed, although I hear it can be homeschooled even though they are very strict about it... Perhaps I shall just be a pedestrian for life.

It was sunny and warm (upper 40s woo!) today. That makes me very happy. Pretty soon I will be able to comfortably sit outside all day and perhaps even do some "school work." Hahaha, that is a funny. Oh, the joys of homeschooling...

Faceless

2009-04-03T19:36:00.008-05:00

I got a haircut and I am not especially fond of it. It reminds me of the hair I had in first grade. It's cute, though, which may be the problem. I do not want to be cute. I want to be memorable and intimidating.

I am eating pretzel sticks with cinnamon peanut butter right now. It is quite good.

I have some pictures of me! Hooray!

C'est moi! I am playing my baritone ukulele (way cooler than guitar) and listening to my iPod. I like to play along with my favorite songs.

That's my closet. I don't really know where to put that mirror, so I keep it in there. I don't want it where I can see it at night because I get really paranoid.

No, I do not have a face. I did that on purpose. Well, I didn't take the pictures that way on purpose, but I did choose these photos carefully...I wouldn't want anyone to ever recognize me! Although someone who really knows me could easily recognize me anyway, but whatever...It's the principle of the thing! Is it not?

From now on, you must address me as "Yes, Chef!"

2009-04-01T21:08:00.002-05:00

I am a culinary genius. In the making. Sort of. Okay, not really, but I try.

My piano teacher is a very sweet lady. She's in her 60's or so and she's been teaching piano since she was like 19. She even has some pretty music education diplomas on her wall. She is very religious (Catholic) and she frequently brings up religion, because she knows my family is Catholic as well (in fact, they used to go to her church, many years ago, but now go to a different one). One of her biggest concerns is young people's religious education (and lack of it). She is quite distraught by the fact that religious ed stops after confirmation in 9th grade at my church and doesn't continue through high school. I let her know (gently, I promise) that a lot of the kids don't really want more religion class (she was a bit shocked...) and feel forced by their parents to go. She just doesn't understand. I know there were quite a few people in my confirmation class (including me) who didn't want to be confirmed and/or were athiest/agnostic. In fact, a few didn't. I was. I can't stand up to my parents. I do agree with my piano teacher, however, that young people (her term, I think it's cute) don't understand their religion or the Bible. I think that is what needs to be taught, not just prayers to memorize or sins to avoid. I also think they need to be taught about other religions, but that is a whole other story...

I am not fond of this "Title" thing

2009-03-22T15:18:00.003-05:00

"A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people."
- Thomas Mann

I must be a writer, because writing is pretty hard for me. I have to be in the right state of mind and location with no one around amd little pressure to finish if I am going to write something good. I can't just sit down and write a 5-paragraph essay on a topic I don't care about in half an hour or less (SAT, ACT, when english class was next period and I was kind of failing so I should really do this essay...). I spend half the time procrastinating or thinking of what to say, and the other half bs-ing as quickly as I can. School is not a good place for me.

Freedom?

2009-03-17T19:57:00.003-05:00

I quit track. I had to. I don't have the time, I don't like the girls (besides my 3 friends who are still in it; two already quit), I can't run the meets because I have a class on the same nights, and I hate having to stop what I'm doing to go run off to school every day at the same time. I hate watching the clock. I hate the warm-ups we have to do.

I feel bad though. I really like the distance coach (also my cross country coach) and I feel like I have really disappointed him. He was one of the few reasons I ever did track. And for 3 to quit in a row...it must really hurt him.

I just want to run on my own.
Leave the watch at home,
let me be alone.
I want to get so lost in the moment,
in such awe of the world
that I forget where I am,
what day it is,
where I have to be.
Just let me be free.

I should not!

2009-03-11T10:37:00.002-05:00

I have decided to erase the word "should" from my vocabulary. I do not need to feel like I "should" do anything any more, and I will only do things because I want to or because it would be a worthy use of my time.

Track season has started. That means running 5 days a week for the next 3 months. I am sore just thinking about it. The track team is full of girls who I have nothing in common with except age, sex, geography, and desire to run in a team setting. They are getting on my nerves, to put it nicely... I'm starting to feel like track is going to make running into more of a "should" than a desire. It does push me to run much more than I would on my own, but I don't enjoy it nearly as much as cross-country (my after-school sport of choice). And I hate going back to the school I worked so hard to shake loose from me every day. (I am homeschooled now, btw. It is infinitely better.)

Here's a good quote:
"Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule." - Stephen King

It's like he is saying, loosen up, you! Don't worry about the word! Focus on the meaning!
I've never read anything by Stephen King. Maybe I will someday.

Those who don't play the game win another

2009-03-08T19:35:00.002-05:00

Young people are so full of this
raw, yet emotional, energy.
It is a beautiful thing,
so why suppress it?
Why do they
put us down
tell us we're not smart enough
old enough
experienced enough
blame the hormones
blame our desires to find "an identity"
shove us away,
lock us up and don't let us know there's a key
pretend like we don't exist.

It doesn't work.
It never has, never will.
Rebellion isn't our nature,
it's our means of escape,
blocking it all out.
There will always be the few
who don't buy into it
refuse to play the game.
Revolutionary?
on a small scale.
We are outnumbered,
but they can only stomp on us if we allow them to.

2009-03-06T20:45:00.001-06:00

Is she really modest?
or is she ashamed?
is it from the guilt she feels,
the pressures of others?

It's better to remain anonymous, you say.
but is it really better?
why is it necessary?
do you feel guilty about what you've done?
do you feel guilty that others haven't, can't, won't?

and why do you feel shame for others?
they are not guilty - they have done nothing wrong.
in their eyes, you say.
they don't believe themselves to be wrong.
So are they?
They are not ashamed, so why should you be?

Things like this just pop into my head. Ideas. Arguments. Of course, it is never when I am able to record it in its raw, unaltered state. By the time I write it down, it is washed out, recycled, reworded, and impure.

It is kind of ironic, that I can write these words, and yet act as a hypocrite. I hide everything I write, heck, everything I feel, from my family. Like I don't want them to see who I am or something. I can't sing when I have the urge to sing, dance when I feel like dancing. I am afraid they will see me, hear me. And then...what? I do not know. Maybe that is where the fear comes from.