Today, the atmosphere at school was different from usual; it was more somber, to the point of being stifling.

A teacher has died.

He passed away on Friday of a heart attack, after a basketball game. I heard about it from my school's online news and from talk around campus - I wasn't there and I don't know the details. In one way, it's really jolting. He'd been plenty alive just a few months ago. I only remember one thing about him, and that was when we were taking a survey in the cafeteria. (Ha! The only time I get to sit in the cafeteria is during PE CLASS. I never actually eat in there. There are a few people who do, but most of us are outside, rain or shine.) He'd been barking at us, something about putting down the pens, or passing up the papers...I don't remember clearly.

I wish I had something else to remember about him. But I don't. And I never will.

It's startling in another way, too, to think that someone who was there one day would be gone, dead, so quickly. It wasn't like cancer or some slow terminal illness where you could see him weakening by the day. No, it was just like that. So fast. It takes so long for people to truly live, do more than just exist. Yet it can be taking away so quickly.

And at the same time, somehow I wasn't surprised. I almost feel as if I'd expected it to happen. I'd known since late 2010 that once my guidance counselor, who'd been on maternity leave, came back, then the lady substituting for my counselor would take over as a PE teacher (the teacher who died was only teaching for the first semester this year; I don't know why, maybe one of his students does), which was a little funny because the substitute counselor/new PE teacher is now pregnant herself. (And that was sudden too. I hadn't realized she was pregnant until she said so recently.) Not knowing why the teacher was not going to teach PE anymore, I wondered if perhaps he was planning to go away...But I didn't think that death would be his vehicle.

In fact, I HAVE seen a similar thing happen before, with my fourth grade teacher. I don't remember too much about her anymore, just that she had short blonde hair, was sometimes in a pretty bad mood, and had a jar of butterscotch candies to give out as a reward. She got injured a couple of times - one time I think a box fell onto her face and she wore sunglasses to cover up the bruise. The last time I saw her was on the day of our field trip to a museum. I thought she'd seemed fine.

After that, she was gone. And I later found out that she had died. The school never told us why exactly she died. Some students came up with all sorts of ideas. I recall that one classmate of mine said that perhaps her boyfriend had murdered her. I know nothing. Just that she is dead.

So the recent death of that teacher makes me feel queasy. I wonder a little if I might've caused in some way. A lot of things in my life have followed cycles. Is it an odd coincidence? Was it all predetermined? Have I, by speculating, actually set things in motion? Am I just reading into it too much? This isn't an anime. I'm not Haruhi Suzumiya.

Or am I?

Labels: cafeteria, cycle, death, deja vu, fate, health, heart attack, illness, memories, PE class, sick, survey, teacher, thoughts

In elementary school, it had been a tradition for the 1st graders to put on a play each year called "Once Upon a Lily Pad". It was about a frog who had trouble jumping, or something like that, and he bumped into various other pond animals, like crocodiles and snakes. I had a very short role as the Mama Frog. Even after 1st grade, we upper graders would still watch the performance, and the one thing I remember clearly about it was a certain song that goes "Listen to your parents, listen and obey" (it was a catchy song, though I'm sure my parents would be much happier if I actually followed the song's advice XD).

There was, of course, a happy ending with the frog joining our elementary school's jumping team (which is nonexistent, so don't try to find it). It's too bad real frogs can't have such a lovely life as is depicted in children's books. I was at the supermarket today with my mother, and we went to the seafood section...It was there that I saw a glass tank.

And inside of it were frogs.

The frogs were still alive - not moving much, just kind of sitting there and breathing, but they were certainly alive. On the tank, it was written that the frogs had to be killed before they left the store if you bought them.

I guess frogs can be eaten, and people do eat them. I mean, I have no qualms about eating fish. But even my appetite for fish was ruined when I saw a lady buying fish. She gave the store worker the A-OK, and he took two flopping fish and started whacking at them with a mallet. Even then, they kept on moving, kept trying to live, but the hammer thudded down, over and over, and finally, the fish were still. Dead.

It's funny to me, how I'll be repulsed by something for a while, but I always go back to normal life. I guess it's necessary for me to keep going. To keep pace with such a speedy world. But I do wish that I could take it all at a snail's pace. Just ooze along like I have forever and a day to do what I like. Even if I get squished in the process.

Labels: death, elementary, fish, food, frog, kill, once upon a lily pad, play, school, seafood, snail, song, speed, supermarket, time, world

It's quite a famous book, and I recall that my fifth grade teacher recommended it to me. But at the time I wasn't particularly interested in it, so I figured I might read it when I was older, if I ever ran out of books to read (in other words, there was almost no chance that I would read TKAM of my own accord).

I think I'd actually made the right choice by not reading the book then because I ended up reading it this year as part of the 9th grade literature curriculum. I really don't like to read books twice (there are so many good books out there, I'd much rather be reading those than reading something that I already know the ending to), and besides, if I'd read it back then, I probably wouldn't have been able to understand as much of it. (Not that TKAM is a difficult book to comprehend or anything. At least the author doesn't write with thy's and thou's and other such old language.) I really don't remember much of the books that I read when I was younger, though...I guess my brain thought other things were more important.

I actually thought the book was quite interesting, and enjoyed reading about a trial, as well as seeing a mysterious character make an appearance at last (can't reveal more than that if you haven't read the book). The movie was a disappointment in comparison. It seemed too rushed since it left out a lot of content and changed what it did put in, though I suppose moviegoers don't have as much patience, and it would be a pain to make a really long movie anyways. Well, of course, there is a general rule that books are better than their movie counterparts (which makes me fearful about the Twilight movies; I've heard some say it was good and others say it was "meh", so I don't know who to believe. But I don't really want to watch them anyways because the books were rather bland). I ought to read the Howl's Moving Castle book, but of course I keep putting it off. In fact, I really haven't been doing all that much reading these days. I really have to get back to the books.

In the case of TKAM, the mockingbird represents someone who was punished even when he/she hadn't done anything wrong. But after hearing a friend's description of a mockingbird that lived in her neighborhood (an actual bird, mind you, not a person), I'm not sure if a mockingbird is the best symbol of innocence. Although TKAM says that mockingbirds must not be shot because they sing beautiful songs, my friend (I shall refer to her as SNK) says that the mockingbird near her house is very annoying. It imitates the sounds it hears and makes a racket at nighttime, which disturbs her sleep. Eventually it either went away or got shot by a neighbor (I hope not, that's a pretty gruesome end to a bird, even if it was disturbing the peace). Another friend of mine says she'd like to have a mockingbird as a pet, though, since it is able to imitate sounds it hears (apparently it could even imitate the tunes from songs for the piano and violin. Not bad!). Wonder if they can be raised as pets. I used to want a squirrel as a pet, because I like their fluffy tails, but I suppose it would probably have rabies.

Labels: bird, book, death, disappointment, harper lee, howl's moving castle, imitation, mockingbird, movie, noise, novel, pet, repeating, rule, squirrel, story, to kill a mockingbird

Blood crosses. They happen when siblings, or cousins, or some other kind of relatives have children together. It's something that disturbs me a bit. I suppose you could fall in love with a relative, but it's a bit frightening what things could happen as a result of such a relationship.

I heard mention of it in the book called The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski. The Sawtelles, the family upon which the book focuses, keep careful records of every dog they have bred so that no dog will have a blood cross. Blood crosses have sometimes resulted in physical defects, both in animals and in people.

I was reading National Geographic not that long ago (it is one of my favorite magazines, after all, and I renew my subscription every time it runs out) and apparently it seems that King Tut may have been the result of crossed blood...And that could be why he is pictured with a cane (had some sort of foot problem from the blood cross, perhaps? And maybe he had a weak immune system, too, which would have contributed to his death at such a young age). Among royalty it isn't uncommon to have blood crosses. Sometimes it's to preserve political power (which confuses me a little, because if you wanted to be more powerful, wouldn't it be better to marry someone out of your family so you would have more connections? But oh well) and other times people do fall in love with their family members.

There was also a guy who was French royalty who had crossed blood flowing in him and he developed slowly (I think he couldn't walk until 7? Or something freaky like that) and he didn't live that long. Isn't that painful? The odds are against you from birth. If you're the child of two relatives, then there's a possibility that both of them have a recessive gene that could cause problems, and if you happened to be unlucky enough, you might be born with those two recessive genes put together, and you would suffer from whatever problem the gene causes. And you'd be doomed to get cancer over and over again or die early, and so on. (Hmm, I suppose you could end up with such genes even if you didn't have crossed blood, but in that case you'd have to have two people meet who had some sort of similarities in genes, and I guess considering the amount of people out there it would happen, but then again there are a lot of combinations of genes that are possible, too...Well, never mind me, just talking to myself. Really. No one reads this besides my future self anyways.) I guess in that case you might not be able to change your fate. But I've heard this quote that "It's not the years in your life, it's the life in your years", so even if you know you don't have long to live, search for happiness. You're alive, so go and live as much as you can! That's still something I need to do.

I've been concerned about bloodlines because of my grandparents on my mother's side. People in China don't necessarily change their last names when they get married. In the case of my grandma, she already had the same last name as my grandpa, so there was no need to change last names. True, there are a lot of people in China, and you'll certainly meet people with the same last name, but it made me think that there's probably a blood cross, even if it's somewhere way back. A bit freaky to think about. One time I said to my mom, "So that's why you're so twisted!" (referring to her personality) which made her become indignant. XD But anyways, don't be like me, don't joke about it. "Do as I say, not as I do."

My science teacher showed us a website that contains a world clock. You can see births, deaths, illness, crimes, and whatnot. A bit morbid, I guess, watching as the number of deaths go up (there are really a lot of people who die of respiratory infections!) but it's kind of fascinating too. Here's the url:

http://www.poodwaddle.com/clocks/worldclock/

Labels: blood, book, clock, cross, death, family, genetics, health, life, national geographic, personality, problems, relatives, sickness, the story of edgar sawtelle, what if, world

A few days ago, I dropped my Nintendo DS.

It's not the first time this has happened. I've dropped it several times before - on carpet and even on my driveway. But this was the last straw that broke the camel's back.

I can't turn the DS on anymore. It lights up for a short while but then flickers off with a kind of cracking noise. I've tried tinkering a little with it but it doesn't do any good.

I was hoping that maybe my parents might have an idea how to fix it, but they said that it was simply getting too old, and probably whatever broke was inside the DS, so there's no real way to get to it without taking the DS apart. (But since it can't turn on anyway, I think it's worth the risk to try and open it up so that there's a chance of fixing it. But I'm not knowledgeable about this kind of thing, so I have no idea what I would do even if I get into the inner workings of the DS.)

If I'd taken more caution and hadn't dropped it on the ground, it would still work. It might have served me yet for a few more years. I know that know one has the power to change the past. But I sure wish I could do something about it.

Maybe it's because I've never seen someone die or attended a funeral that the demise of an object can affect me so much. But maybe it's best that I never have to deal with the pain of someone dying in my life and that this be one of the few things that I've grieved over.

Labels: broken, change, death, drop, fix, funeral, impossible, nintendo ds, past

Today has been a chilly day. There are clouds in the sky for the first time in a week or so. I can't remember a year when there was such cold weather at this time in June.

Maybe this year is meant to be different. There was rain later in spring than normal. The reservoir is full and beautiful and reflective. But not everything is good about such change. Different weather is bad for some fruits. I heard that cherries were more expensive this year. And my mother worries that our persimmon trees will not yield much when the time comes to harvest their fruits because of the unusual weather.

But this chill, though it is June, makes me wonder if perhaps the summer will end early this year. My dad dismissed the idea, saying something like "The summer really starts with July 4th" which I don't really understand (I mean, only the USA celebrates Independence Day). There was already a warm spell back in May.

I read the book Sisters of the Sword: Journey Through Fire. The main character, Kimi, is driven by her desire for revenge, but she is told that she should not be filled with so much hate, that it will consume her and lead to her defeat. But in the book I am Apache, revenge seems to be embraced, as warriors set out to avenge their loved ones, who were killed by Mexicans in a surprise attack. I've heard the phrase "revenge is sweet", but is it really? If you kill someone, your hands will be sullied by the blood, and you may forever live with the guilt. And it would not bring back the people that you have lost. But perhaps you must kill someone for the sake of the future and of other innocent people - if you don't kill the person, it is not far-fetched to think he or she will go on to take more lives.

I've also been watching an anime; the name is Ef: A Tale of Melodies. It is a disturbing story, but at the same time it also intrigues me. One of the characters said that he wondered why a person would be born in the first place if they would die. He said that there isn't any point in starting fights that you know you will lose.

But I think that because we are alive, there must be something out there for us to accomplish. I don't think life is meaningless just because we know it will come to an end, for some sooner than others. We still think of things that are temporary as important, like youth, passion, friendship, and dreams. It's up to us to make these things permanent. If two friends swear to be BFFs and support each other when times are rough, then the promise is not broken.

As I am now, I am weak. I don't have thick skin, so the words of people pierce me more deeply than any physical injury. But I still want to become strong. I'll fight every day, even if it's an uphill battle, even if I die and am forgotten. I am alive, so I'll do what I can. There are days when I'm lost in a sea of misery. Days when who I am and who people think I am are different; days when what I want to do and what I need to do are unbearably far apart. But I'll fight on. Even if I'll die trying.

Labels: ability, books, death, different, dream, ef a tale of melodies, fruit, I am apache, journey through fire, life, purpose, reservoir, revenge, sisters of the sword, strength, summer, temporary, weather

On Monday, almost the entire eighth grade of my school hopped on buses and headed to Great America, an amusement park in California.

I hadn't been sure whether to go or not. I thought that it would be wasted on me because I cannot go on rides much scarier than the carousel...Since I have gotten carsick, airsick, and seasick in the past, I was sure that riding on a rapidly-spinning ride or a roller coaster would cause me to pass out, throw up, or some other atrocity.

But I didn't want to stay at school, either. For one thing, I had no idea what we would be doing all day, seeing as all our textbooks had been returned and there was nothing academic left to be done.

Also, I had hoped to gather up my courage to try a roller coaster for the first time. (I vaguely remember having ridden one and having been very upset by the experience, but then again, it could be my imagination and not an actual memory, so I instead consider it to be that I had never been on a roller coaster) Since so many young people seemed to enjoy thrill rides, I figured that it would not kill me to at least try it before dismissing it as undesirable.

I traversed the park with two friends. The first place we headed was the Kidzville. (Supposedly, the rides intended for younger children would be milder than the rest of the ones in the park.)

We rode one of those swings that go around in a circle first. I cannot describe how terrifying it was at the beginning... My head felt unsteady and so did my intestines. It was all I could do to not scream and cry and thrash until someone stopped the ride to let me down. I tried closing my eyes. Then I realized that the ride was really just a pattern. As you went around in a circle, you would swing upwards and then drop a little downwards, and that would repeat. It was easier to deal with the nausea if I closed my eyes right before the highest point and opened them once I started to move upwards again. Towards the end of the ride it was bearable and I could look around with some degree of calmness. But then the ride slowed down and we got out of the seats.

hen we went to the roller coaster in Kidzville, but the man working there compared our heights to a pole and said we were too tall. (Maybe he didn't feel like working, so he figured he'd reject people until he felt like taking customers. I mean, it is kind of waste to run a ride for only three people, but it was still annoying since we were only an inch or two too tall. And we were able to go on the swing ride, even though the same height restrictions are used there) Isn't it ironic? I've been considered too short before. So it's unexpected that I'd be told I was too tall for a change.

I thought I wouldn't be able to try a roller coaster because I figured there were no other small roller coasters in the park, but it turned out there was one, the Woodstock Express, in Snoopy Land. I thought we were going to die several times. (There was a point where the ride seemed to stop and then jerked...) And when it was rushing up and down I thought we were going to crash into something or run off the track... And then when it was going around the bend I thought we were going to fall out of the seats... I was so surprised that I was still alive after the ride. (I must have been crazy because later that day I rode the Woodstock Express a second time.)

Nevertheless, I declined offers to go on certain rides such as Berserker and Centrifuge because they seemed far too dizzying for me to handle. But since I wasn't going on as many rides, one of my friends urged me to go on a ride called Whitewater Falls. I thought I was going to die again when we were going down the slope...I didn't pay attention to where I was going and started walking off but then the people working on the ride told me the exit was the other way. Whoopsy-daisy.

I wonder if someday I'll have enough courage to go on one of the really thrilling rides, like Drop Zone or Invertigo. Or perhaps I never will. Maybe I won't ever do it and it'd turn out I would have been fine even if I had gone on those rides. Perhaps I've been afraid unnecessarily. And that fear may have prevented me from doing a lot of things, from taking risks that would have turned out well for me. But at the same time I wouldn't want to be too reckless. Still, I wish I could be a little braver...

Labels: amusement park, children, courage, danger, death, dizzy, fear, great america, height, irony, nausea, pattern, quote, reckless, rides, risk, roller coaster, school, thrill, trip

I once wrote about seeing snails at the library courtyard - click here to read the post. But that's certainly not the only place in my town where you can see some snails.

When I was in elementary school, there were some snails among the bushes. I can't remember too clearly what I had done to them in the past, but I am sure it was not something particularly nice. (Even now I still don't treat bugs and such critters very well...Someday they're all going to take revenge on me.)

One day, when I was walking home, not that long ago, I heard this cracking noise. I looked back and saw something crushed on the sidewalk. I fear it may have been some unlucky snail slowly making its way across the block, only to be squashed under my mighty foot.

To avoid another occurrence, I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me. Unfortunately, that didn't work either. I was late to realize that the light had changed and that it was time to cross the street since I was being looking around for snails.

On the weekend, my mom told me that there was a snail in front of our house, so I went over to investigate. I took a few pictures of the snail. Then I attempted to prod it with a stick so it would shrink back into its shell and I would be able to move it somewhere else. (I had hoped to be able to keep the snail as a pet, but I didn't know how I would take care of it...I don't even know what snails eat.) But the snail kept trying to stick its head back out not long after each time that I poked it. I guess it realized that I wasn't planning to kill it after a while. I managed to get the snail to crawl onto a fallen leaf (well, it was really more a clump of needles, like what you would find on a pine, fir, or something of that sort) and moved it to a pot that was not currently being used to grow a plant. But when I went back outside later on, the snail had left. Besides some trails on the ground (from when it was wandering on its own, undisturbed by me), there was no trace of it.

It really goes to show that "slow and steady wins the race". Despite their slow, slimy, oozing way of moving, they can still sneak off if given the chance. They're pretty stealthy after all. But in the end, it isn't enough to save them. Snails are cooked and eaten by people. It is a sad fate (and also one that I cannot comprehend).

Labels: accident, death, destiny, distraction, elementary school, fine dining, food, house, library, moral, moving, pet, post, revenge, skills, snail, sneaky

Secret might not be the right word in this case, seeing as I see bees in public places like near the post office and at schools.

I just felt like using this title. I once read a book called The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. (Unfortunately, I can't quite remember how the ending went because it was a few years ago. I guess if you read a lot of books and if you get distracted by daily life, it's easy to forget the specifics of books you've read.) Apparently there's a movie now, too.

Some time back, I was at the place I usually spend my brunch break at school, when it seemed that a few people were looking at something. I heard someone say, "Oh no! You've killed it!" so I went over to investigate. It was a very weak-looking bee on the ground. It was still alive, but it was unable to fly and grew more and more pitiful until it couldn't even bother to twitch a leg. One of my friends and I tried to bring it back to life, and transported it using a stick to a leaf. It seemed like the bee was unable to hold on to the leaf - it slipped downward little by little, and we became fearful that it would tumble in to the bushes, never to be seen again. But it seemed to regain some semblance of life and started to move a little.

We tried to put it on a flowering tree, but the bee was not interested and fell onto the ground. Then another girl came along, seemingly out of nowhere, and picked up the bee with her hands. The bee seemed to be much more energetic upon being touched by a human and began to move actively. The girl started to walk off, so we followed her to the grass field, where she set the bee down on the grass.

Today I came across another bee, though it was not so close to death as the one I had seen previously. It was still moving along, though it seemed to also be unable to fly. My friends and I tried to get it interested in a flower, but the bee was not interested. It would turn and change directions every time we shoved the flowers in its face. We also tried leaves and sticks but the bee would fall off every time we tried to move it from one place to another. One time it seemed as though we had been successful, as the bee was finally displaying interest in the flowers, but then the bee fell off again. My friend insisted on handing whatever stick or leaf the bee was climbing on to me because she feared the bee would sting her. I think it's fine as long as the bee is unable to move quickly and if you avoid the rear end of the bee. After seeing the girl from before handle a bee, and as they seemed to get along quite well, I am less fearful of bees (at least, bees that are walking on the ground, not the very active bees flying about at the speed of light).

I am hoping to use such logic to convince my mother to let me have a dog. If you are not familiar with something, it is not unusual to be fearful of it. In fact, I was intimidated by dogs, but I've met several of them and realized there is nothing to worry about (except for perhaps abused dogs and dogs with rabies). I've petted dogs and been licked by them and they have not bitten me. Be sure to pay attention to body language of animals, though...If a dog is growling at you, it's best to keep away from it.

My mother hasn't really been around dogs, and she dislikes them. I think it also has to do with my grandma getting bitten by a dog. I wish my mother would give dogs a chance and spend some time with them. She might feel more kindly towards them if she'd only interact with them a little. (If she still dislikes dogs after that, then I can't hold it against her.) My mom continues to say that I can have a dog...When I'm a responsible adult. That will still be quite a few years away. And I'm not patient. Especially when I could die anytime and lose my chance forever.

Labels: bees, bite, book, chance, danger, death, dog, family, fear, ground, humans, insects, interact, life, safety, sting, stubborn, the secret life of bees, transportation, wish

The Call of the Wild is a book by Jack London that features a dog called Buck. I can't remember clearly whether I've read the book or not, but I think I might have. It was mentioned in the book Nothing But the Truth by Avi.

I haven't read much of Nothing But the Truth yet. What I do know is that the main character is a boy named Philip Malloy who is not very interested in language arts, and is rather disdainful towards The Call of the Wild. Indeed, he wrote something rather interesting as an answer to a test question. Here's a part from the book.

Question four: What is the significance of Jack London's choice in making Buck, the dog in The Call of the Wild, the focus of his novel? Is the dog meant to be symbolic? Explain your answer. Can people learn from this portrayal of a dog? Expand on these ideas.

Philip's answer: The significance of Buck in Jack London's novel The Call of the Wild is that Buck is symbolic of a cat. You might think that cats have nothing to do with the book, but that is the point. Dogs are willing to sit around and have writers write about them, which, in my personal opinion, makes them dumb. I think cats are smart. Cats don't like cold. A book that takes up so much time about a dog is pretty dumb. The book itself is a dog. That is what people can learn from Jack London's novel The Call of the Wild.

Although I find his response to the question amusing, it does show that he wasn't so serious about the book, and his teacher didn't find it funny at all. If I were to become a teacher, I suppose I might end up having to deal with students like him. I wonder, how would I grade students, if I were a teacher? Would I grade them strictly by set standards, or would I give them points for making me laugh?

Well, speaking of "What if", my teacher asked us an interesting question today. Here is the scenario.

- You are stranded in the desert with a total stranger. (You have never met them, you know nothing about them.)
- You have only enough water to keep one person alive (never mind how long for).
Your choice: Do you drink the water and save yourself, give it to the stranger and save him/her, or do you share the water and BOTH of you die?

Perhaps a person's answer to this question reflects their own values and personality.

I said that I would give all the water to the stranger. I have already seen many beautiful things, for I have traveled far and wide - I was even able to see the city of Sydney, my namesake. And I have seen small but beautiful things in my own hometown. I have also gotten to make friends (even if many of them have moved away, and it is hard to keep in contact, I still have memories, and I will cherish them). I have been able to learn to play instruments and learn to read and write and learn to laugh. I have already made some of my dreams reality. I still have goals I have not achieved, but I have already had so much. And I believe it is more than some people will ever get. If I give them the chance to live, perhaps then they can go on to do those things, to have some happiness.

One of my classmates said, "Well, what if the stranger is a criminal? Then would you want to save them?" I may be flattering myself by saying this, but I think perhaps if I gave them the water, then he/she would be touched by noble sacrifice, and would want to be a better person. He/she could go on to make changes in the world. I want to be able to inspire someone. (Though dying isn't the most ideal way of doing so, it is still a way.) And I can die knowing that I saved someone's life, protected the miracle that is the beating of our hearts.

Labels: avi, book, cat, choice, death, dog, dreams, hypothetical, inspire, laugh, life, memories, nothing but the truth, opinion, question, sacrifice, scenario, teacher, the call of the wild, water

Y'know, Andrew Jackson's name is very similar to the name of my favorite teacher...

Andrew Jackson was the 7th President of the United States.
A war hero, from the Battle of New Orleans and an invasion of Florida.
A husband and father, married to a woman named Rachel (very complicated situation regarding that, but never mind it for now).
The installer of the spoils system and Jacksonian democracy.
A person who tried to kill the National Bank.
(...If you're confused about this, look it up. Personally I recommend Wikipedia. XD)

And this is my retelling of his story. It is mostly made up, so do not take it seriously. It's just for fun, seeing as we haven't gotten to write fiction all year in school.

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a boy. He was born to two people who were quite vocal about their opinions. Even at the age of five, he was already a mischievous, energetic boy who threw terrible tantrums when he didn't get his way. His family moved to a new town, which unfortunately did not welcome them. The town was a small one, set in its ways, fearing the changes that the outspoken, troublemaking family might bring, tried to drive them out. When the family stubbornly refused, a few particularly fearful townspeople encouraged others to help them burn down their house. Although the family managed to escape the fire alive, their home and farmland had been burned to the ground, the animals had disappeared, and they were all injured from the fire. Andrew's parents had been burned and were coughing heavily from the smoke that had entered their lungs, and they lived for a while, all of them in the wilderness, before they died.

Only Andrew was alive, and he was very weak and confused. This wasn't his first time facing death - truth be told, he actually spent time burning ants with a magnifying glass in his backyard (Oh! The horror!) - but he hadn't thought his parents would die on him. He didn't believe it at first. He poked them and tried to peel their eyes open and even screamed as loud as he could in their ears. But soon he was worn out and frustrated from his lack of success, and very hungry. He couldn't find anything to eat, besides mushrooms, which looked rather poisonous. Frustrated, he curled up in a ball on the ground, and fell into an uneasy sleep, accompanied only by his growling stomach.

While he was dozing, a few wolves came along, cautiously sniffing their way through the forest. Farmers often tried to shoot the wolves whenever they saw them, thinking the wolves would eat their livestock. The wolves smelled death, and followed it, but the meat did not look too appetizing. The two dead humans that the wolves discovered had all sorts of weird things on them, something that looked like a band with metal on it, and something on their feet that was hard and brown. The wolves smelled something living, too, and that was Andrew Jackson.

The wolves were faced with the decision of what to do with him.
1. Eat him (Not good...He didn't have much meat on him)
2. Leave him there (Not good either...He might scare away the other wildlife if he was left to his own devices)
3. Bring him with them (Not really that great either, but the wolves decided on that. They were curious to see what he would do.)

And so he was dragged along by the collar of his shirt to the wolves' den. The feeling of being pulled along on rocks and dirt woke him up, but he was still too tired to realize what was going on, and once he had been laid down on the ground, he went right back to sleeping.

He woke up later, feeling something poking him (it was a wolf prodding him with a paw), and sat up with a jolt. The wolves leaped backwards, startled. Andrew rubbed his eyes and studied his surroundings. He was lying in the shade of a tree, and there was a rocky outcropping nearby, under which the wolves lived, presumably. The wolves looked at him warily, wondering what the human boy would do now that he had been revived. Andrew realized his parents were nowhere to be seen, but then his stomach grumbled in protest, and he forgot about it.

Andrew noticed a dead deer, which had been killed by the wolves. He wasn't sure he'd be able to eat raw meat, so he tore at the deer until he had a hefty piece in his hand, and then left the area, looking for a fire or some other thing he could cook it with. One of the wolves almost chased after him, unhappy at the loss of food, but was stopped by his brethren. They decided that the human was probably leaving and would not be their problem anymore.

But that was not to be. Andrew Jackson soon trotted back, holding a stick on which the deer meat was skewered, and he was eating it with relish. He had poached some flint and managed to make a fire, and then roasted his meat campfire style. Jackson was already on the way to being a gourmet chef (but unfortunately, there was no TV at the time, and so he couldn't host his own cooking show).

Andrew's mind was much clearer now that food had quelled his hunger, and so he watched the wolves curiously. They, as well, stared back at him in interest. Andrew figured that if he seemed like one of them, he'd be able to interact with the wolves. He tried a howl, but it sounded terrible, because Andrew had never been a good singer. The wolves found this hilarious and began to bark in laughter.

Andrew began taking on the ways of the wolves, trying to become one of them. He would run with them, but he couldn't keep up, nor did he have the ability to hunt the way they did. He had to make do with traps he had devised, which could catch small prey. He slept with the wolves in their den now, and it was a cozy and pleasant time. Each day seemed fresh and new and exciting, and Andrew felt glad to be alive, for he enjoyed being in the outdoors, with so much freedom.

These days, however, were not to last. Years had passed, and by now Andrew was about ten years old. The wolves were relaxing after having eaten and Andrew was experimenting with his new idea for a food (he thought that perhaps he could create a sweet treat, a kind of fluffy white candy that could be cooked over a campfire, which he later called a "marshmallow") when they heard the sound of voices and feet stepping on brush. The wolves perked up, baring their teeth, and seeing their discomfort, Andrew put aside his primitive cooking utensils and hid himself as best he could.

The noise turned out to be from people, rugged men on horses with loaded guns and who chewed and spat and peered around with squinted eyes. The wolves were immediately alarmed. These men had probably come to exterminate them, as wolves were considered pests. The wolves had dealt with human guns in the past and knew just how deadly they could be. There was nothing to be done but to leave and run away until the men gave up chasing them.

Andrew couldn't keep up with the wolves, unfortunately, and the wolves were in too much of a rush to wait for him. Though he was a wiry and strong boy, he tripped over a tree root. Frustrated, he let out a yell and tried to break off the limb of a tree, but it only swung back and thwacked into his face. He could hear footsteps again; the hunters had heard him and realized that there was a person in the wilderness.

The wolf hunters came over to him, and one of them, a man with bushy eyebrows and a mustache that he could wiggle, said to him, "What's yourr name, son?"
Andrew could still understand English, but not very well. His brow furrowed in thought. But no matter how long he thought, he couldn't think of it. "Not know," he said to the man.
The man gave him a puzzled frown and conversed with his fellows before saying, "Well, where is your family, son?"
Andrew thought of saying the wolves were his family, but he figured the hunters would not take too well to it. In fact, they'd probably think he was lying and burst into hearty peals of laughter. Later they would probably talk about the funny boy they'd met when drinking in a pub.
"Not know. Maybe dead."
The men talked amongst themselves once more, and then the man got off his horse and lifted Andrew onto it. "We'll go to town, then. There's a family that might take ya." And off they went to the town just outside the woods, with Andrew looking back wistfully, having left behind the kitchen tools he'd just made.

Andrew Jackson had to get used to civilization again, and it was an uphill battle. He had never been formally schooled in his life and was illiterate. At first the other children made fun of him, but they soon learned that he had a short temper and settled all disputes with violence. Many a child had to stay home and recuperate from black eyes, broken noses, and all other sorts of scrapes and bruises. Andrew was sent to church over and over again to repent, but he would just slump over in a pew, stubborn and sullen as usual. The reverend took this to mean that Andrew was not willing to atone for his sins and apologize to God, and so Andrew Jackson earned the reputation of being "unchristian and unfit for civil life".

Jackson continued to be misunderstood by his peers, even as he grew to be an adult. He wasn't really such a mean person, but he had become bitter from all the things people had said and done to him, and so the boy he actually wanted to be, a quiet, happy boy living a peaceful life, had disappeared, covered by the self he showed to others, so frustrated and lonesome he had felt. One of the first people to sympathize with him was a woman named Rachel, who could understand that feeling of other people being so hard to deal with and how sometimes you just felt like running away from life.

Having lived away from people, Jackson needed a bit of help melting back into human culture, and Rachel suggested marriage. It was a human tradition to get married, after all. Jackson learned about Rachel's unhappy marriage and how her husband was saying he wanted to get a divorce, so they got married, since Rachel was the most reasonable choice for Andrew.

Jackson also learned that politics was the human thing to do. So he got into it, as well as war, though war was a dreadful thing. But he was still impulsive and made decisions like taking over Florida (wanted to try the orange juice, and he was forbidden by Spain to take any).

Then he was shocked by the death of Rachel. This was the first death he could really remember. At least his parents had died long, long ago, and he couldn't remember too much of it. But now, here was his best friend of more than thirty years dying on him. Andrew forgot about all that he'd been working on and let his inner anger take over. That boy who had been wild, partying and playing games when he was supposed to be studying to be a lawyer, came back, after he'd spent so much time crushing it down. And after he avenged Rachel, by kicking out everyone he thought was to blame for her death, he still felt empty inside. And he went on to get rid of the Native Americans and the National Bank.

But it was never enough. And it never would be.

(Ugh...This story didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I got too confused because I would stop and starting writing it once in a while. Oh yeah, and I'll be gone from March 7th-12th, so don't expect to hear anything from me in the meantime)

Labels: andrew jackson, anger management, church, death, education, family, fiction, florida, horse, hunters, marshmallow, meat, politics, rachel, revenge, story, violent, war, wilderness, wolves

Today's homework was to write a poem about ourselves. The poem started and ended with "I am -namegoeshere-." In the poem there are eight other lines. Four of those lines are true things about ourselves and the other four are lies. I thought it was interesting that my teacher wanted us to write lies about ourselves. Was it for fun, so we could pick out which parts were right and which parts were false?

I've never been much of a poet myself, I'm afraid. When I was young I tried my hand at writing a poem. I think I still have it tucked away in a notebook. Now that I look back at it, the poem seems rather meaningless and rough. I guess that things always look different when time passes, though. Drawings that seemed good to me when I was younger just look funny when I get older. And seeing pictures of myself a few years ago, I think, "Wow, I looked really different then." (But after a while I always looked similar in the pictures. I suppose it means I'm getting old.)

Sometimes I wonder if it's better to always tell the truth or if it's okay to lie sometimes. Most of the time telling the truth is the better thing to do - it shows you have integrity, and people who lie tend to get found out anyways (unless they're good at lying. I mean, I heard all the best thieves are never caught).

But telling the truth can be a harsh thing. Sometimes this happens to me, or I see it with other people... A person asks their friends, "Do you like my ____?" or says, "My drawing is so terrible!" And their friends would just say they liked it or that their drawing was bad right away. I wonder if they really mean it or if they're like me...Sometimes, even if I don't really think as highly of something as the person asking me does, I just say "It's nice" or something like that anyways. I figure they'd be offended if I say "I'm not really that fond of it." I don't want to hurt their feelings, so I just pick the safe choice and pretend.

But how much longer can this go on? How much longer until it all unravels? I can't always live my life like this, can I? And yet speaking my mind could be costly too. I don't know what I would rather do.

There's also a different situation, one I haven't come across yet, but still a possible one. Say there is a person who actually has some health problems. In fact, they have a terminal illness, but they don't know it - but some people close to them know. The person would become depressed and listless if they found out about it, but as long as they think they're not going to die soon they are able to live their life happily and blithely. Do you think they should know because they deserve to know their own fate? Or should the truth be hidden from the person so they can enjoy what life they have left?

Anyways, on to a different topic... Today in PE class, my PE teacher spoke to us about a girl who has one of the school records for triple jump. She is still in the school (in fact, she is in my grade). The teacher said, "I've heard a few people suggesting she's been using steroids. That's not true at all. She trains really hard every day with a professional coach, and worked to make her legs and body strong. Don't say that she's been cheating and taking the easy way out by using steroids. She has really good work ethic. I think people who are saying that she uses steroids are just jealous. And yeah, it makes sense to be jealous, but you can just say, 'Wow, she's good.' You don't need to mention steroids."

There are some athletes out there, such as a few baseball players, who use steroids. Some folks think that athletes who have used steroids should be taken out of the Hall of Fame or whatever records they got into. My PE teacher had an idea for it...He said he should leave both the records of people who used steroids and those who didn't in the records, but that the people who used steroids would get a * next to their name. I think that's a pretty good idea. That way everyone will get credit, but people who decided to use steroids would have some shame. I think it's only fair. If you do something dishonorable, you have to pay the consequences. (I believe in poetic justice. But it's not always dealt like that in life.)

Labels: athlete, baseball, death, fate, friends, happiness, innocence, justice, lie, life, opinion, PE class, picture, poem, pretend, record, steroids, thief, time, truth

This is a valuable lesson that I learned today from my teacher. It ought to be the new Golden Rule. (Well, not really. I'm not all that fond of cars because I get carsick. But that's besides the point.)

More than ten years ago, a young man (my teacher) was going to a place called Jake's to meet up with his friends. He was sitting on the roof of his car when a Ferrari came into the parking lot. Back then, a Ferrari was quite expensive (and still is), $150,000 or something. My teacher and his friends stared at the car, drooling. It was red and sleek, and was shiny, like it was polished often (which is quite a feat, since it's harder for things to look shiny in the nighttime than in the daytime). They couldn't decide whether to go inside Jake's or not. They were hungry, but if they went inside, they wouldn't be able to see the Ferrari anymore. After a few minutes, an old lady stepped out of the car.

"Hello, boys," said the lady.
"........Uh, hello," said my teacher and his friends.
"My husband died recently. I'm getting ready to sell it," remarked the old lady (regarding the Ferrari).
"Oh, what, really?!" At this point, my teacher is rummaging in his pockets for money (though he wouldn't be able to afford the Ferrari anyways).

Later, the old lady gets back into the car. She accelerates a little.
"Awww..." go the boys/young men/whatever you call them. (Just like a kitten's purr, so says my teacher)
Accelerated again. "Ohhhh...."
Went in reverse. "Ooohhh..."
My teacher offers, "Will you be alright? I'll drive you home." (Doesn't matter to him that he'd have to walk home after all, he just wants to be in a Ferrari, something he probably never got to do before)
"Nah, I'll be fine." The old lady drove off...Out of my teacher's life forever.

My teacher then said to us, "Don't let widows wreck nice cars. And treat your car nicely."

Anyways, speaking of cars, I was given some advice about how to skimp on car insurance. You have to pay more for car insurance if you get into lots of accidents. I was told that you should get your license when you're sixteen, and then wait two years or something until you actually get a car. Then when you get car insurance it'll look like you're a safe driver because you didn't get into any accidents for two years. (Obviously, if the folks who work for insurance companies figure this out, they might get suspicious, but oh well. Thought I'd let you know.)

I've always complained about not having life insurance to my parents, but in reality, it's probably better that I don't have it. For one thing, I'm young, so the chances of my dying are lower than those for an older person. And also, some people can't use money that results of a death. (Though there are quite a few people who say, "Well, money is money!" and there are even those who kill people on purpose to get ahold of inheritance money) I wonder if my parents would be willing to spend money they received if I was insured and I died. Would it pain them too much to use money which my life had been the price for? And if you had a dog, for instance, and it died, and you got money as compensation, would you be too pained by the loss of your dog to touch the money? Or would you move on, and put the money to good use?

While I'm on the topic of cash, my school district often doesn't have enough money. One of my teachers complained, "They want us to teach differently, in the 21st century, but they don't give us the money to do it. In fact, they take away money." I know it can't really be helped, because California is a state in debt (as is the whole US of A), but it's annoying. Most of the people who make decisions are not students anymore themselves, so it doesn't really matter to them if they take away the money for schools, even if children are the future. (Yeah, I know, school is mostly based on memorization anyways, but still. It's worthwhile to go to school.) If only, if only, there was something that could be done about it. Money is what makes the world go round but it is also what stops it from going round. D:

Labels: california, car, death, debt, ferrari, future, inheritance, insurance, jake's, life, money, problem, school, story, united states of america, world

On Monday, I returned to school after having been away for several weeks. Winter break isn't all that long, but it seemed long to me because I didn't go anywhere this time. I usually travel somewhere during the breaks. Nowadays, I am concerned about saving money for retirement, and besides, I didn't want to have to adjust time zones, so I decided not to go on vacation over the winter break. Over the break, my father and I went exploring the neighborhood.

For quite a while, perhaps several years, a local place, which is called a farm (but has other things, for recreation, like a swimming pool and a golf course), had been under renovation. Sometime in 2009, the changes were done and it was reopened to the public. It was the first time I had seen the place since before it had closed for the renovating. In fact, I hadn't been there for many years, so it was like going there for the first time, practically.

It turned out that two bocce ball courts and a volleyball court had been built. There was also a trail, leading to a place that actually was like a farm (there were farm animals, like goats, cows, and I believe I saw a pony). There was a swimming pool, but it was closed because it was wintertime. It was nice to see the creek with water in it...It's depressing in the summer since the creek tends to be dried out. One of the parks near my house doesn't have water in the ponds either. My dad says that the people of my town dried it out on purpose to try and drive the birds away.

Speaking of birds, the place where I live is really infested with them. My house has birds, which is nice (though some of them look just like the finches I saw at the petshop...). But the park has many Canadian geese, which should not be; the geese already ought to have migrated by now. There's also seagulls and a few crows. My school also has this problem, especially after it rains. I like the birds, except for one time when a seagull pooped on my math homework.

When my mom's friend's family came over to our house, on New Year's Day, the TV was turned on and I started flipping channels. (There seemed to be several Educational Programming channels...Hmm.) Eventually I reached a channel where exceptional moments in music were being played, and so my mom's friend's daughter said we might as well stop there. Some singer (I forgot her name, unfortunately) was singing when a bird flew by and pooped diagonally onto her mouth! It was disgusting. But that bird had good aim.

I was pretty freaked out because I saw a dead bird today. It was pretty well squashed, something disgusting on it as well as blood... It seems like another bad sign. But it could just be my imagination. There is a lot of roadkill nowadays.

Birds aren't the only animals all over the place, though. There are also plenty of squirrels. I have some in my backyard. My mom pointed one out to me, so I ran over to the window to see. It began digging up the grass and apparently found something to eat - perhaps a nut? Then it started eating, before holding it in its mouth and climbing up the tree. The squirrel looked pretty fat. It was a greyish one (maybe that's because of the winter, it could have actually been a squirrel with brown fur). I had seen a black squirrel earlier which was quite a bit skinnier than that one. It didn't find anything to eat in my backyard. I guess the early bird - or squirrel - doesn't always get the worm (nut).

That nut looked kind of like an acorn. Was that from my yard? Or a neighbor's place? Or somewhere far away, like near my school? There are plenty of acorns there. I've always thought acorns were cool nuts. I would like to make some acorn mush, or acorn pancakes, but I'm not sure how. And what would it taste like, anyways? D:

Labels: 2010, acorn, birds, blackberry farm, bocceball, break, creek, death, explore, food, neighborhood, nuts, poop, roadkill, seagull, singer, squirrels, television, water, winter

I got the inspiration for the name from "Wii Came, Wii Conquered" which was on the cover of an issue of the Nintendo Power magazine (it's an old edition, from a year or two ago).

I'm not talking about the Wii this time, though. The "we" I'm referring to is the eighth graders this year - in particular, my village. (Just in case you weren't aware, each grade at my school is divided into villages. Each village has teachers for the four core subjects - history, language arts, math, and science - for PE or your elective, your village doesn't matter.) We were having a fundraiser in the Week of Giving. The money would go to research for Duchenne Muscular Distrophy, a muscular problem that can be inherited (particularly in the X chromosome). 1 in every 3500 boys is affected by it. Females are less likely to get Duchenne because they have two X chromosomes, whereas males only have one (and of course, X is superior to Y. Hahahaha!).

I first heard of Duchenne when my school played a trailer for a movie called Darius Goes West. The trailer didn't really show how serious it was because it was busy saying things like "Buy a DVD - $17 goes to Duchenne research, $3 to making more movies" and "This is not a trailer, this is a vehicle". The movie was pretty funny too, but it was also deep. Darius is a boy (15 at the time of the movie, I'm not sure exactly how old he is now but he has graduated from high school) who has Duchenne. He was going to travel from his hometown of Athens, Georgia to Los Angeles (a.k.a. Hollywood), California to ask the show Pimp My Ride to make improvements to his wheelchair. Since many people watch MTV, he and his friends figured it would be a good chance to raise awareness of Duchenne and also get his wheelchair brought up to speed (it actually broke on the trip).

Duchenne makes your muscles degenerate, and it eventually affects your heart. Duchenne is fatal every time; you're lucky if you can even live to 25. Darius's brother, who also had Duchenne, died at the age of 19. Darius's brother had always tried to be strong and smiling, and Darius found his brother to be an inspiration, so he does his best to be optimistic himself. I was talking to an old teacher of mine and she said she was surprised by how Darius can laugh and enjoy himself and seemingly not be upset by the fact that he will probably die within a few years. I agree; I think I'd be devastated if I knew I would die young and there was no hope of saving me. But maybe different people deal with things differently.

I was kind of surprised that I didn't even know about Duchenne, despite the fact that so many people have it (in fact, who knows, I might carry the gene for it and not even know it. It wouldn't affect me as long as I have one good X chromosome). It makes me think that I really live a sheltered life. I live in a community where most people are middle class (and some make quite a lot of $$$; my mom has a friend who is already retired even though she is about the same age as my mother, and she and her husband are currently building a new house in Palo Alto), or at least you don't see many people living out on the streets, which is pretty good. One time at school we were being shown a video to promote our sense of charity, and there were pictures of people sleeping in cardboard boxes. Some of the students - I think they were boys - laughed. My teacher said, "I don't know if you think it was staged or something, but people really do live in cardboard boxes. They live in places like San Francisco, which are COLD in the winter. When my son is cold, I can have him put on more layers of clothing and turn on the heater and he won't be cold anymore. But a lot of people don't have that luxury." So I guess I am doing pretty well if I don't have to live off of Whole Foods cheese samples (and there aren't much of those nowadays anyhow).

I've never even met anyone who was disabled. I mean, I've seen people in wheelchairs but I've never really talked to someone who lacks the fine motor skills many of us have... The closed thing to that is my science teacher. She was injured in the 1989 earthquake (gives you an idea of how old she is! XD) and for a while she couldn't walk. She can walk now, but I think there isn't cartilage in her knees anymore or something like that. So when she goes hiking, she has to have someone stand in front of her, because she can't walk downhill without falling over.

Oh, my, I've gotten awfully sidetracked. Back to the fundraiser. My language arts teacher came up with an ingenious plan to best the 6th graders, who usually win the fundraisers since they are young and restless. She stashed bills in a box and didn't turn in much money so it would seem like us 8th graders were being lazy as usual. Then, on the last day, she donated all the money, and we won! In fact, by a big chunk, like $500 or so. It was amazing. This is the first time I have ever seen the 8th graders actually come out on top. I feel proud for having donated (even if it was only some dirty coins I dug out of my robot bank) and having been a part of this landmark achievement.

Labels: cardboard box, charity, cold, darius goes west, death, disability, duchenne muscular distrophy, earthquake, eighth grade, fundraiser, homeless, optimism, pimp my ride, trailer, village, x chromosome

Today's post was inspired by a movie I saw my father watching on the weekend. Naturally, as I am distracted by the things around me, I end up watching some of the movies he watches as well. The movie he was watching was a Japanese movie called Premonition. It's a freaky sort of story about a man and his family. The man was outside of his car and saw a newspaper that said his daughter would die in a car accident because of a jammed seat belt. His wife got out of the car to ask him for help freeing the seat belt. Then a truck came and hit the car, killing their daughter. Some time passed after the event, and the man had more premonitions. Eventually he has the opportunity to change the fate of his daughter. Someone MUST die in the accident. He could let his daughter die, or his wife die, or everyone could die, or he himself could die.

I'm not a fan of horror and things like that, but this movie was quite interesting. It really does show you that there are things in life you do have control over. There are many crossroads that you will reach over the course of your life and you must make the decision which path to take. Sometimes no path is perfect, but you can always try to do what's right, even if you don't necessarily succeed. And sometimes the path is a sad one. For instance, you might fall into a swamp of alligators and be killed, but then other people could step on your body and use it as a human bridge to get safely away from the alligators. (I know that's a gruesome example, but I had to think of something) Sometimes the right choice could be something that harms you, sometimes the right choice harms other people, and sometimes there is really no right choice.

Sometimes, other people and beings are in control instead of you. After watching the movie, I heard a story being read on the radio. It was about Adam and Eve, and the time when they were still in the Garden of Eden. Adam was shown to be a very stupid individual. One time he showed Eve some giraffe feces he found, and he was quite excited over it. Eve was pretty disgusted by it. On the radio, the reader said, "Adam had the IQ of a coconut husk." Eve complained to God, but he stayed silent, so she had to put up with him.

There was a snake who lived in the Garden, and he was watching Eve. He thought if they met, there would instantly be sparks flying between them and they would get along quite well. Actually, Eve saw the Snake and thought he was one of the most repulsive animals she had ever seen. But, as she didn't run away, then the Snake started to talk to her. Eve was very interested in the Tree of Knowledge, which was the only tree that she and Adam were not allowed to eat from. So the Snake gradually persuaded her to eat some, saying things like, "It's not a paradise at all if there's a way you can get kicked out" and "Just a little nibble wouldn't hurt" and "God wants you to have knowledge because then he won't be lonely anymore". Finally, Eve did eat some fruit, and then all the problems started...She realized that she was naked, which she had never really minded before (that was when my dad and I stopped listening, because we thought it would be pretty inappropriate to hear about).

Well, what I meant to show with talking about that was that someone else could be directing what you do, even if you don't realize it.

Speaking of not knowing what is happening to you, we were talking about that in French class. The conversation started because one of the students had his birthday presents stolen from his party. That is really rotten, because it must've been a so-called "friend" who stole his gifts. The teacher says that he ought to lock up his presents right away from now on. You can never be too careful.

Anyhow, the teacher was almost robbed once. She was on an escalator or something, and there were two people standing on either side of her, talking over her head. She was pretty annoyed but couldn't move. Then one of them started trying to steal her bag or the stuff in it. She didn't feel a thing...Luckily, her husband was behind and noticed, and shouted at the pickpocket, who then made his getaway. And there was also a tourist who had his credit cards stolen from his pockets and didn't feel anything either. (It was the front pockets, so that's something) Looks like thieves have some crazy skills nowadays.

Labels: adam, birthday, control, death, decision, escalator, eve, garden of eden, god, life, movie, premonition, presents, radio, robbery, skills, snake, tree of knowledge

I have a different PE teacher now because of the trimester change. I had him last year, in the third trimester, so I am familiar with him. I thought I would be fine again, but last year, when I first started off, I was really tired from his class, and the same thing is happening this year. I'm started to get used to it, but it'll probably take a while before I'm completely accustomed to the hard work again (this teacher isn't mean or anything, it's just that we do more extreme stuff in his class than the teacher I had the trimester before).

When we run a regular, four-lap mile around the track, it's called a Smile Mile in his class. Since we do regular exercises before running the mile, I'm always tired out when it's time to run the mile. So my times have become slow again - I got 8:28, when my recent times last trimester were nearly 30 seconds faster. So I am not too pleased with that, because even when I try to run fast it still isn't enough, what with shoulder and gut cramps...

But then there are times when I am angry at myself for having a weak-minded attitude. I should definitely try my best. You can never say you're already good enough, you have to keep trying. I have to continue to do my best until I run this whole mile smiling. It's not like I dislike running. This year I have discovered that I like to run, as long as there is not a huge amount of pressure on me.

After all, I was able to help someone else just a little bit last trimester. If you want to improve your time or keep a steady pace, then look for someone who runs faster than you, but not too much faster. You could just follow them the whole time, and it might make your time better. One of the students in my class last trimester ran with me to improve her time (with my permission :p ). My strategy for running is to start out with a slow pace, then speed up gradually or maintain the pace, and in the last lap, I try to spend all my energy and sprint to the finish. It's just what works for me. Some folks prefer to sprint on the first lap instead.

My classmate said her time got a bit better this trimester, and it's kind of nice to feel like you've done something. "A good deed is a reward in itself" or whatever the saying was...Not that I built a house for low income people or something. (My dad did, but then he got sick, probably because he was sweating and he wasn't dressed for the cold, or something, and then my whole family got sick.)

Speaking of the cold weather, the squirrels are making their preparations. I think squirrels are hibernating animals, so they have been eating like crazy to prepare for sleeping until springtime. They robbed my backyard of fruits, like the figs and the persimmons. And now the squirrels that live near me are chubby as can be.

I wonder if that added weight means they can't run as fast. Some time ago, I saw a squirrel on the road. It was pretty gruesome, as the squirrel was actually sort of flattened, it smelled a bit funny, and there was some blood. The squirrel must've been hit by a car. Ouch, what a painful way to die.

It seems squirrels elsewhere don't have as much to eat. The squirrels at my piano teacher's apartment were more normal-looking. Probably they have to work hard for their food, instead of having fruit practically at their doorstep, waiting to be picked.

Oh yes, and I just heard recently that my cousins will both be taking piano class. Originally my younger cousin wanted to learn piano, but then her brother decided he wanted to learn too. So now they have a piano and will be taking lessons. They're already having lessons that are an hour long...My mom said to my aunt that it's not good to do that, as young folks have a short attention span. I mean, when I started out piano, I only had half-hour lessons with the teacher, and my lessons are still only forty-five minutes long.

Labels: car accident, cousins, death, exercise, fruit, hibernation, house, improvement, low income, overweight, PE class, piano, running, smile mile, squirrels

I know, probably there are a lot of blog posts of mine by now which are somehow or other related to death. Sorry, but it seems like it's following me. Or maybe I'm following it. I am probably superstitious now since I spend my time counting crows.

I had better get to the point. I always keep a flashing keychain on my backpack. The keychain has my name on it, and so I don't need to bother introducing myself, or if people forget my name, they can just glance down there (theoretically...). It is solar powered and one side says Hearst Castle since that's where I got it from. Hearst Castle is a mansion on a mountainside in California. Pretty nice place, wish I had swimming pools and a view of the ocean like Hearst had when he was alive.

Well, the keychain has served me faithfully for more than a year, not far from two years. But age has taken its toll on the keychain. The little part that keeps the keychain attached to its ring has been eroding. I jerked on my keychain too hard (I am too lazy to properly zip my backpack, so I just pull the keychain, since it is attached to the zipper) and a tiny part broke off. It was basically the last straw that broke the camel's back since the keychain fell off. I managed to get ahold of it so I wouldn't lose it but it seems that it is the end for the keychain unless my mom comes up with a way to fix it. (She is the person in my family who is best with little things like sewing and origami and whatnot so we leave it to her. I mean, I have trouble buttoning my shirts and tying my shoelaces...Ironic considering I am a fast typer. You would think my hands would be nimbler.)

I had convinced myself that I was going to make changes in my life this year, so I have been trying to become a more open and charismatic person, but that is not going too well. I won't give up, though! Just like I don't give up on trying to convince my mom that I should have a cat or dog. I think it makes me an admirable person if I keep trying. :p Or maybe it just means I'm too stubborn like my grandma. Well, as a result of these changes, at lunchtime I went into my old teacher's classroom so I could see what happens during Debate Club. I had never really joined clubs much (I tried MathCounts because my mom wanted me to, back in sixth grade, but it was too hard for me to understand. It was funny when someone tried to show the area of a grape, though. And then there was the time I tried to join the Go Green Club last year but I got intimidated since there weren't enough chairs and I didn't know anyone) but now I was curious and I got up the nerve to go in. It was very loud, that's for sure. Two of the students, who were supposedly in charge today, kept banging the weird hammer the teacher has to keep order. We were supposed to be debating whether swine flu is overblown. It wasn't really a formal debate like what I did in the summer once, but oh well. I suppose it was interesting in its own way, even if all I did was listen and not talk. I guess I might go again unless French Week committee meetings get in the way.

When I was walking home not long ago, I saw a blimp in the sky. It said "23andme.com", "Personal Genetics", and "Join the research revolution" or something like that. I guess advertising things on blimps works on people like me, since today I actually went on the website out of curiosity. The Human Prehistory: Prologue video in the Genetics 101 section is not bad. It would have been nice if I learned about humans by watching videos like that back in sixth grade...

Labels: 23andme, broken, club, death, debate, debate club, discord, genetics, hands, hearst castle, history, humans, keychain, stubborn, swine flu, video

That would be my house. (Though maybe you think it's the last house on the street if you live farther down the street. But to me, it's the first house, because when you drive to the street where I live, my house is the first one on the right side.) Some mysterious happenings have been going on here lately, and the place that once seemed safe now feels dangerous.

Last night, I had a most unusual dream. Even though it is common for "kids" to get nightmares, when I was young, I never had any. But starting from this year I have started getting them. This was the most major nightmare I ever had. In my dream, I was woken up and was told by my mom that my dad had suffered a heart attack. I don't think I properly absorbed the news since I went numb and blank. Then finally I said, "He didn't have a pulse?" And my mom said, "No." I was in shock for a while. But then, later in the day, my dad walked down the hallway. I thought I was hallucinating. He was alive and didn't look unusual at all. He asked me what was wrong. Before I woke up for real, I was thinking, "But he was dead! My mom must've misjudged! People don't come back to life."

The other creepy thing that happened also had to do with death. Do you remember reading about the dead birds and other symbols that I was noticing/my mind was making up? (If not, refer to the posts ◆ something wicked this way comes, and ◆ the keys to the kingdom. They should be at the bottom of the September 2009 archive) Well, I hadn't seen any for a while since the two birds that had died, but in my backyard on the weekend, we found another one. There was a nice-looking bird on the ground, or at least, the bird used to look nice. Now it just looked gross because it was covered with ants and a few flies. It was really disturbing. My dad and I worked together to get rid of it. I used a big shovel to pick up the bird and dump it into the plastic bag my dad was holding. My dad tied up the bag and took it out to the trash.

Strangely, the dead bird with the ants swarming over it reminds me something my language arts teacher said. We were correcting a sample of a badly written memoir about a person and their dog. One of the sentences was something along the lines of "We where over my aunts house". Never mind the fact that it's the wrong word being used. Think about being over someone's house. Would that mean you're floating over it? Or on the roof? It should be "over at my aunt's house" or "at my aunt's house". My language arts teacher said that if you say "over my aunt's house" it seems like you are a bug or a pest running about the house. The thought of bugs reminded me of that dead bird with the bugs all over it.

I shall try to speak of something positive so the post will end on a good note and won't have you shuddering. It seems that my running seems to have improved (only on the warmup run, but better than nothing!). I used to always pull my PE shorts high up, sort of onto my stomach. Now I let them down a little more, so that it still is covering me adequately (no worries, I'm not going to try and "sag" like some people) but it is more at my waist than covering my stomach. It seems to help a lot with running. I can't believe I didn't figure this out sooner. XD

Labels: ant, birds, bugs, death, down, dream, family, father, flies, heart attack, house, life, mother, nightmare, over my aunt's house, reincarnation, running, shorts, strange

Today, I had my third encounter with someone who had I believed to have died - er, moved away. I saw him twice before. The first time, RaHa (Those are the first two letters of his first and last name, to protect his privacy, I suppose) had stopped his bike and was doing something. I think he was going to use his cell phone or maybe he forgot something or perhaps he was counting cars. I have no idea. The second time he was on his bike, pedaling home presumably. This was interesting, because where he was going signified he went to my school, and I had not seen him at school. (In fact, we thought he had moved away before entering middle school) And then I saw him today, in the lunch line, and the lunch lady was telling him what he could get at the salad bar, since he didn't have enough $$$ or some other problem. So now the truth has come out: THE DEAD TRULY CAN COME BACK TO LIFE.

Recently I have found out about two websites, FMyLife and MyLifeIsAverage. Let's not mention what the F stands for in the first website. Anyhow, both these websites contain little "stories" from people. It's usually negative things on FMyLife and just weird things on MyLifeIsAverage. I came up with my own, though I am not planning to submit it to either of them.

Today, I was in my classroom minding my own business. I looked out the window and saw a girl walk by. She was holding a toilet seat and looking at it.

Actually, I think that toilet seat is the hall pass for one of the classrooms... (Whether it is a real toilet seat I am not sure about) And I remember it was a helmet of some sort that was the hall pass for orchestra/band. All my teachers this year have very ordinary hall passes, though. What a shame.

My history teacher mentioned something today which I wish that I had been able to put in my previous post "the bond between parent and child". He said that people tend to raise their kids the way their parents raised them. Even if you may deny it, saying "I'm going to be nothing like my parents!" it often turns out that you are like your parents. My teacher himself came up with a prime example. When he was young, he would wrestle with his father for fun. His father would say, "Get off my back, Evelyn!" and then Mr. Brown would say, "I'm not Evelyn, I'm *insert his name here*." This happened again with Mr. Brown and his son. His son wanted to play horsey so he climbed on top of his dad's back. Then Mr. Brown couldn't resist saying, "Get off my back, Evelyn!" and his son said, "I'm not Evelyn, I'm *insert his name here*." By the way, if you don't understand "Get off my back, Evelyn" it's apparently something in a movie, which I haven't watched.

Labels: children, death, fmylife, get off my back evelyn, hall pass, history, lunch line, method, moving, mylifeisaverage, parents, return, school, seat, toilets

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