Israel's stand point

If the U.S. went into Pakistan and took control of their nuclear weapons because the U.S. feared that Al Qaeda would take control of them then the stand point of Israel would be that the U.S. was right. Israel believes that the U.S. is right in doing this because not only can they relate with the fear of enemies getting nuclear weapons-Iran-the U.S. is one of their biggest supporters and the relations between Pakistan and Israel are bad.
Pakistan doesn't even officially recognize Israel as a country let alone a people-Jews-who even deserve a small portion of what they did receive at the end of the World War II. So since the formation of this Jewish State the relations between Israel and Pakistan have been severe, Both angry for what they feel is an injustice from the other people.
Now to go along with that the U.S. is one of Israel's biggest supporters since the formation of this Jewish State and their relations are good, both supporting the other. Does this sentence sound familiar? It should because Israel's relations with the U.S. are the exact opposite of their relations with Pakistan. So of course Israel would go along with what the U.S. is doing.
Also the other reason that Israel would agree with the U.S. in this situation is because Iran is supposedly trying to build nuclear weapons and not only does the Iranian Government openly hate Israel(President of Iran-Mahmoud Ahmadinejad- said "Israel should be wiped off the map.") but they also don't recognize them as a country. In this situation Israel can relate to the U.S.'s stress. They can say hey we understand. If Iran started to whip out a nuclear weapons then we'd try to take them out. But you are just taking control before something that serious actually happens good job.
Some people say that the U.S. taking over the weapons would be wrong, but this report isn't about right or wrong, good or evil, but Israel's standpoint.
So basically Israel would agree with the U.S.'s actions in the event that they went into Pakistan and took control of their Nukes because not only can Israel relate to the U.S.'s predicament, but also because their relations with the U.S. are good and with Pakistan bad.

In Global Education I participated in S.I.M.U.N., a mock United Nations. I represented the state of Israel and went under 4 different scenarios. S.I.M.U.N. was exciting and difficult at the same time. I especially enjoyed the challenge of thinking on my feet while the other country’s “Representatives” fired questions at me. I believe that I represented Israel well and I am very happy that it was my country. Next year I hope that I will get just as great a country, maybe Iran-they’re enemies (lol)! It was an experience that I relished and am looking forward to experiencing again. Even though there were times I didn’t answer the questions well there were also times when I rocked them! I loved S.I.M.U.N. and I can’t wait to do it again next year, but there are some things that I’m going to need to improve on.
This year I didn’t really look up my allies and that hurt me in S.I.M.U.N. Next year I’m going to have to find my allies so that the S.I.M.U.N. experience is more pleasurable and less stressful. I’m also going to have to change the way I prepare for my speeches next year. I now realize that I can no longer just “wing it” after listening to the other representatives, but have to prepare them (writing them down) while they talk. But besides that I believe I did pretty well in preparing for S.I.M.U.N. overall.
In Global Education I had to do 4 dramatically different essays. I had to do one on the Falkland Island conflict with Argentina and the United Kingdom. I had to write one about why Iran wants nuclear materials and if it is a threat to Israel’s safety. I wrote one on the Kuril Island conflict between Russia and Japan. Finally I wrote about the Ukraine election and their relations with Russia regarding them and NATO. It was a required school preparation for S.I.M.U.N. On my own time I tried to look up allies (unsuccessfully) and read hour after hour the history of Israel. I also quizzed myself on what Israel would say in certain events (scenarios).It was really hard but extraordinarily helpful. I was so happy that I did all that to prepare for S.I.M.U.N. It was worth it.
While S.I.M.U.N. was hard in some parts it was easy in others. I believe that what I did to prepare for S.I.M.U.N. was very successful and with a few adjustments will be even better next year.

short cultural analysis

In the book Sold there were many cultural differences that I noticed. There was the fact that marriages were arranged at birth, and having a man in the house, even one that used up all the money for gambling, was crippled, and beat his family was better than not having one at all. Selling ones own family was looked down upon but not that strongly, and if you had your period then you were a woman and could not let any man see your face or it was a dishonor to the family. You also couldn't look a man in the eye. Once you had children the boy babies would breast feed until they were 5 and the girl babies for 2 years. It was really different to see that those in Nepal would consider such things important.

Dreams are a Curse Part 1 of 50

Dreams are a Curse Part 1 of 50

Have you ever had a dream? One so big you couldn’t stop it; one so great that it conquered all the others?
Have you ever been afraid to dream? Afraid to have it ripped away, and destroyed? To see it crumble right between your finger tips, before your very eyes?
Have you ever stopped dreaming? Refused to dream no matter how fleeting? Refusing because you know that you will lose everything just like the rest of the world?

Laurel woke up to the smell of cinders. The fire was warm but was dying down. Laurel shivered in the crisp winter air. It was a long winter this year. Tightening her mother’s hand woven blanket, she tip-toed across the frozen dirt floor towards the wood pile. She made sure to not step on her brothers and sisters as she went. She had 4 big brothers and 4 older sisters. She also had 2 younger sisters and 3 younger brothers. 6 sets of twins had left her with a lot of siblings but she didn’t mind. She loved little Jerry, Tommy, Lucy, Mari, and Robby. She loved George, Stephan, Laura, Toad, May, Stacy, Daisy, Mark, and Michael. She loved her Ma and her Pa and their soon to be baby. Even though they never had much room or food to eat she was content. She had her family’s love and she was happy.
Carefully she picked out several large pieces from the woodpile and, while shivering, tip-toed back to the fireplace. She put in two big pieces of wood and stood them against each other. Then she grabbed a handful of sticks, leaves, and twine to place around the logs. She grabbed the tinder box and coaxed the fire back to life. Cold but warming up she snuggled as close to the fire as she dared and smiled when her younger sister Mari snuggled up to her too. Laurel fell asleep smug, never knowing that this would be the last time she slept peacefully with her family.
“Smack!” A wave of pain shook Laurel awake. As she looked around sleepily for the cause shock completely woke her when she saw her Pa on the ground with lifeless eyes and a thick pool of blood beneath him. She was confused and scared. What was happening? How could this have happened? She must be having a nightmare. Everything was too sudden!
“Smack!” Laurel looked behind her to see Mari smacking her on her back with her finger pointed toward the door. As Laurel looked towards the door she saw them. The Mysers. They were the black plague that was destroying the world. They were demons in human costumes, evil traitorous hags. The only way you could tell they were a part of Kai Laiyers troops were two black and silver Crow-Crown emblems on their chests, and neck. They were the pictures of crows piercing the crown intertwined. Symbolist of the murder of her nation’s King Lan and his son Prince Riloh. They were murderous Monsters and they had invaded her home.
Terrified Laurel grabbed Mari’s hand and tried to make a run for it through the back door. She stumbled and fell to the floor. They were coming after them. They grabbed Mari as she tried to escape and then stuck a sword down her throat when she tried to fight back, ending her useless cries. Laurel went towards the back door as they feasted on Mari and grabbed Lucy and the youngest twins Robby and Tommy, as she ran. Laurel’s feet pounded the forest ground as she half dragged half carried the kids through the dense wood. As she ran she heard her Ma’s pain filled screams and smelt smoke coming from the house. Her Ma was being burned alive. Tears streaming down her face Laurel drove on. Finally when her legs wouldn’t support her anymore she placed Lucy on the ground and let the twins off her back before she collapsed. Confused, exhausted, and scared Laurel, Lucy, Tommy, and Robby curled up together and fell into a dreamless sleep. This was just the beginning of the hardships Laurel, and them would endure. Almost easy compared to what was coming.
Part 1 endTo be continued…

What I learned in language arts

In language arts I learned about Ethos. Ethos is about using the other person’s emotions to help your cause; whether it is a charity event or a murder trial. Like instead of writing 1 million people died of starvation, you would write something like this: The boy fell to the ground again. This time he could not get up. Tears streaming down his face he crawled to the bodies of his parents as his legs dragged uselessly behind him. He reached out his hand to touch his mothers arm. As soon as his finger brushed her too loose sleeve he collapsed. Gasping in pain he struggled to get up. His hands scraped against the rotting wood floor leaving splinters in his palm. "Mom..." he croaked his dry throat like sand paper. “Not you too. Don't leave me..." The boy pushed forward. As he grasped her hand he let go in shock. Her hand slapped against the floor with a thud. She was like ice. She was cold like death. She had left him too." Noo..." Croaked the boy, his throat to torn to wail like he wanted. "No..." The boy's head hit the floor. His shoulders drooped and he too would soon be ice cold. Such are the effects of starvation. Almost 1 Million people, 400,000 children, died this same way.
-
In language arts I also learned about Mythology. Before I used to think that it was a fairy tale from the past, but now I know it's much different. Myths are stories from the past yes, but they're stories to represent what cannot be explained (usually involving gods). Questions like: Why am I here? What is my purpose in life?What happens when I die? A myth is used to explain all of those questions. Usually they used to believe that the sun and stars were some kind of god (Native Americans). They also used to make myths about gods that made the earth, stars, and us (Greek).There myths that you wouldn't have an after life unless your body was preserved (Egyptians). There were myths about everything. But the thing I learned was that a myth is not an old fairy tale, but an old story used to explain the mysteries of nature. The things that every human worries, wonders, and fantasizes about.
-
I also learned how to be concise in my writing. Being concise meant that I would cut down on everything, and anything I didn't need in my writing. I didn't always need to be concise, but I now know how to much better than before. Like instead of writing a 16 word sentence I would write an 8 word sentence. For example: Instead of writing I went to the park with lots of pretty flowers to ride my bike, and play with my friends, and go on the swings, and smell the flowers, and play tag with my mom and brother; I would write I went to the park with my family to play and smell the flowers. That sentence was a lot better right? My teacher taught me to be short and sweet. It really helped me a lot. Thank you Mr. Fielder

Sand Dunes!

My family and I went to the sand dunes last summer. We had a great trip. We junked out. We played at the beach and each of us got buried. We climbed the dunes and rolled from the top. We stayed up all night in hotels and motels. We had a blast!

Prologue
Most babies are born crying but I was born silent. It’s not that I couldn’t talk, or scream, or cry, but more that I knew not to. From the time I was born I’ve known things. Most people called it a wix (That’s how they defined powers) but I’ve always thought of it as something else, something special; it was definitely not something to die over. Too bad I was the only one who thought that way.
~~***~~
Scotland
April, 6, 6881 Arana screamed. "Push ye slow woman!" a hard voice commanded. "Ye are taking too long. The babe will die! You will not kill my heir."
""Ah! Help me I'm t...tearin'...aparahhh!"
"Ye daft woman I waited nigh on ten years for this babe. Ye will deliver me my heir safe and whole!"
"Ayhh help!!!"
“Deliver the babe now.”
“P…pp…please!!”
“Now!!”
~~***~~
My mother died on the day of my birth. My father used to tell me, pride saturating his voice, that it was as if I was a bloody demon tearing through my own mother to reach the clean fresh air. Every year on my birthday he tells me the wonder of it. About how I rid him of a horrid woman who refused to bear children who inherited the Drameir, a power that took various forms in his line. I hate my father when he talks about such things. I've always wanted a mother, a family, and friends. But I'm his heir and I have to learn my ancestors’ ways. To destroy the government. To kill all the normal humans; everyone who has ever ridiculed, and laughed at us will now live in fear. Tomorrow is the first day of a new era, the day that my powers will manifest-my 15th birthday. My name is Ares, and like the Greek god of war my birthright is destruction.
Ch: 1
15 years later…
As I broke out in a sweat, the autumn leaves twirled and spun around me; the red and gold colors mixed and shone like bright stars in the morning sun. How wondrous I thought, that the great leaves of the earth welcome me on this day. To begin the war to kill the bloodthirsty humans. They who have been draining her life force for thousands of years. Today, my fifteenth birthday, I’m inheriting my powers along with the memories of all the other Axdars. I will become the ruler of my people and I alone will start the war for us and our new beginning.
I walked deeper into the forest, my feet bare, the dirt curling around my toes, and I breathed in the fresh damp air. My first rite of passage, to walk to the curve of the mountain and into the Spine—a holy place where my people go to receive their position, in accordance to their power. Being one of the last of a half-breed kind has made my blood weaker. If my powers are not strong then I am afraid the Drameir line will die out completely. I am the last chance to redeem my dyeing and scattered tribe.
When I was finally in front of the Spine I started to disrobe. It was sacred land. Everyone who has ever lived in my tribe was born in the Spine, and so came back into it as they did since their very first breath—naked. Taking the time to catch water from a nearby stream I bathed my body. I then placed my clothes in the shade of a mother oak tree. The only thing that I took with me was my Axdars pack; it was the one thing my people allowed within the shade of the Spine. I was cleansed and I was ready.
I walked into the spine, my feet firm upon the ground, my head held high. Anxiety forced my heart to pound a drum beat against my chest. “Bum, bum, bum!” It grew louder and harder with each step. The wind swirled around me; it yanked and pulled my hair hard-bloodying the roots.
The Spine was a clear meadow surrounded by ancient oaks and firs. Inside it had seven thin long rocks pointed toward the seven great stars, Mard, Leo, Rold, Tera, Forn, Meta, and Crus—the givers of Drameir. I took my sky blue pack and let it fall to the ground. “Plop…” I went to my knees and grabbed the Creia, a ceremonial dagger used on the Axdar blood leaders. I grabbed my long white braid and cut it off midpoint. The braid toppled to the ground, almost as long as I was—we weren’t allowed to cut our hair until we turned fifteen. My dark violet eyes, the tell tale sign of my race, narrowed in pain as I sliced my forearms, then my shins, my lower back, my cheeks, and along my forehead to the bridge of my nose. Blood formed a thick puddle at my feet. Pain laced my body and I wanted to drown in it. I took out a bottle, unlaced the stopper and dipped my head back. My body was on fire. My limbs burned. Soon all there would be of Ares was a pile of ash. Legs trembling I stood up. Gong to each star rock I gave the gods a sacrifice of blood. “Abmallin!” I breathed through gritted teeth. Give me life. “Abmallin!” I cried. I went to the center of the Spine. My Father watched me from the shadows, pride enveloping his features. Pride again I thought viciously. I hate his blasted pride! As I fell to my knees, dropping to the bloody grass like a stone, about to finally receive my powers, a single idiotic thought occurred to me, my father was a mad man; and then I fainted.


Chapter 2
To be continued…

A Fighters Life

The power of one changes everything

1/4/2010

Tatiana Rodriguez



A Tale depicting a young girl’s path to save the world

Prologue
Boom! He was coming and she had to get away. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her, cursing her pure blonde hair that called out like a beacon. “Come. Come to me. I’m right here.” it said. She knew that to be caught would mean death. It was why she’d run in the first place.
As she sloshed through the mud, feet heavy, chest heaving, she swiftly thought out a plan. She had to get to the pipe hidden in the waterhole. She understood that it was possible that he would find her on the way. But even so she thought, determination hardening her features, it was the only choice that she had. It was the only chance she had to get him off her trail. She had to take it.
Ayah suddenly veered off course. Before she had been following some old trails while trying to keep low. Now she was going through completely untamed land. As she ran the tree branches whipped across her face causing splotches of blood to splatter onto her rain soaked sweater. The only sign that she felt the pain were her narrowed her eyes as she drove forward. The under growth scratched and sliced her legs leaving rips of flesh and cloth in her wake like a trail of death.
“Boom!!” He was closer. She knelt into the mud, and sniffed the air. It smelled like them, heavy and rotten. He had gotten much closer- too close. She had to get away. She started off again, her feet slipping and pushing into the mud. She was starting to lose feeling in her left leg, and she panicked. Her sheer dread only added to her already frenzied pace as she scraped through the brambles. If she did not get there soon then all would be lost.
Then up ahead, like a long awaited dawn, she saw it. She was almost there. Relief washed over her. She could have laughed. But it was short lived. As she breathed in a sigh of relief she detected it, heavy, rotten, sharp, and bitter. He was almost upon her.
She zoomed under the bushes, and dove through the old dirt mound down the water tunnel that should cover her tracks. She shimmied down an old pipe and waited. It was cramped and that brought her torn legs into view. As she ignored them she tried to console herself with the thought that she would not be caught. She could not fool herself. She had a 50/50 chance of getting out of there at best.
“Boom, boom, crash!” She froze in mid breath. He was right above her. In the seconds that she waited her heart thumped as though it was determined to get an entire life time of beats. Her blood seared through her veins. Still she did not breathe. She heard his footsteps echo in the distance and she let herself relax. He was leaving. There was no other explanation for it. She suddenly felt giddy as her heart beat slowed. She would live!
As the adrenaline rush subsided she felt the full effects of the forest’s malice. Her abrasions screamed out in pain. So shocked by this sudden onslaught she moaned. Her hands covered her mouth and a lump grew in her throat. Too afraid to make a sound she waited and wondered. Would he find...
“Crashoom!!!” Even before finishing her thought, the world collapsed. She felt the old metal pipe tear and burst as a wave of pain shattered her leg. She saw the world explode around her as dirt and water sprayed the earth black. She felt a hand grab her collar and pull her out of the pipe’s broken remains. Her mind went blank as minds often do when under so much pain and terror. He was the hunter, she the hunted, and she had just been caught.


Two months earlier…

This is just the prologue! Please tell me what you think!

Pumpkins

Pumpkins. Besides the candy. Besides the costumes. Besides the pranks. Pumpkins are the biggest thing of Halloween. Whether it's making a pumpkin have a puking mess, or a pumpkin with monster faces, or even hundreds of mysterious pumpkins lighting the way to your house, Pumpkins are a huge part of this terrifying holiday. Making them is only part of it. setting them up, and watching peoples' expressions is the rest. It can be funny. It can be awe inspiring. It can be gross. It can be scary. watching that fleet expression cross someones face is what makes it worth it.

The Truth About Forever

The Truth About Forever

By: Sarah Dessen

373 Pages


The book “The Truth About Forever” by Sarah Dessen is a master piece. A story of what can happen in life; the pain of fate, things you cannot control; desperately jumping at anything you believe will help; and above all about discovering the rules of life, & the “truth about forever.”
In “The Truth About Forever” I followed the story of a young women named Macey, who loses her father and becomes desperate-hoping nothing unexpected comes her way again. Then she meets Jacob, a fellow student at her school, who is very organized, and has lists for everything so nothing is ever unexpected. She finds her self calm, in control, in his company.
After a year of dating she gives him an email stating that she loved him. Simple enough. He has been her boyfriend for a year after all. He writes back saying that maybe her priorities aren’t in order, and that they should take a break and talk about their relationship at the end of the summer.
Reacting to the biggest “gotcha” of all she goes into a deep depression. During that summer her mother has a house party for clients, and the catering people are so disorganized she discovers while helping them that nothing unexpected happening to them is unexpected in itself. Delia, the owner of the catering business, asks Macey to work for them. Wanting to lose her self in their chaos she agrees. After making friends with Wes, who works their too, she goes through her life’s past trauma, comes to terms with it because of her new friends, and try’s to reconcile with her mother about her fathers death. Playing a game called truth she finds out about what it means to love, and how a happy life can change the meaning of forever.
From the view point of Macey I grew and learned with her. I loved this story. I cried and laughed at this “Book of Life”. Sarah Dessen is a true artist. Heart wrenching plot lines and drama filled days and had my head spinning whenever I propped open the book and lost myself in Macey’s world.
The story’s title caught my attention, and I did indeed learn the “Truth about forever.” It helped me sort out my own life’s chaos, so I will be forever thankful. This story is more than just a story. This story is so indescribable, you’d have to read it to even understand what I’m talking (writing) about. “This book contains all the truths about life you may ever need to know”, including the “Truth about forever.”
To find out what “The Truth About Forever” actually is, you will just have to read the book!!!!!!

The Never War

The Never War
D.J. Machale
336 pages
Book Review By: Tatiana Rodriguez
The Never War by D.J. Machale is the third book in the book series Pendragon. This book has over 300 pages (336), and is an action fantasy. During this story Bobby Pendragon follows Saint Dane, an evil traveler from an unknown territory, to First Earth.
A traveler is a person chosen by those unknown, who has to keep peace on all of the territories. Each traveler has the power of persuasion, and language transformation. Any one they talk to hear their own language, while that person’s language sounds like the travelers first language to the traveller alone.
Saint Dane has powers like all the other travellers, but can transform into any living thing he wishes to be. He wants to destroy all the territories, and bring them into chaos, so he can take over all of Halla.
Halla is everything. Every time, place, or thing their ever was, and ever will be.
First Earth is one of ten territories that are all during, or in, different spaces, and times. Territories are whole worlds in different dimensions that only the travellers can travel to and from.
First Earth is during the time right before World War I. Each territory has a “turning point”, and First Earths turning point is the destruction of the Hindenburg, which leads to World War I.
The travellers travel by the flumes. The flumes are portals marked by a star. The traveller just has to say the territories name, and they are lifted off with a jumble of musical notes.
Imagine flying through the air, light as a cloud, yet surrounded by the brightest stars you ever saw! You can’t even feel the space whooshing past you; you can only watch how everything you saw a second ago disappears in a new blast of light! You’re warm and, a soft jingle of beautiful notes, not quite a melody, envelopes you, until suddenly wham (!) you’re looking at a different world.
Bobby Pendragon’s first ride was not so pleasant. Bobby Pendragon is the lead traveller. After his family disappears, at age 14 he is thrown into a world amidst in uncertainty and chaos. His Uncle Press, the one who lead him to another territory in the first place, is also a traveller. When he took Bobby into the flume Bobby was scared, but that was probably because Saint Dane had made an attempt on his life only a moment before, and the fact that he was flying through the air without a single sight of support. His Uncle Press only had enough time to fight for two territories with bobby (Denduron and Cloral), and instill a traveller’s destiny, and the rules a traveller must follow in Bobby, before being murdered unexpectedly by Saint Dane.
When Bobby follows Saint Dane to First Earth after his Uncle’s death, he’s caught in a drift of reminisce. Growing up in Connecticut on Second Earth, which is during our time, He had learned about this past before becoming a traveller and suddenly being caught up in parts of his old life shocked him, because he never expected such a grand feeling of homecoming. This fierceness of his emotions strengthens his determination to subdue, and undermine Saint Dane, and Saint Danes Plan to destroy First Earth.
As three of the ten travellers, Bobby, Gunny, and Spader, try to learn Saint Danes plan, they’re thrown into Gang fights, terrorist attacks, and two very deadly Big Boss’s plans, so to speak. The Big Boss’s are basically those whom are in charge of major masses of drug dealers, hoodlums, and murders. Trying to find out which one is responsible for First Earths turning point, the destruction of the Hindenburg, is not even as remotely safe as it seemed; Which wasn’t safe at all.
His Uncle Press’s death had toughened Bobby, and got him ready for the lead traveller’s job, or about as ready as he could get with the weight of every living thing on his hands and nearly dieing at every turn. He needs all the toughness he can get. It’s now Bobby’s job to defeat Saint Dane and save all of Halla from Armageddon. Can He stop the Hindenburg from crashing, and sending all of First Earth into chaos, or will he fail and let Saint Dane claim yet another territory.
This book is captivating, enchanting, and full of fun with mystery. D.J. Machale had me hanging on to his every word as the story unfolded. Plots full of fantasy mixed with reality gave it a realism that threw me into the book, and helped me connect with Bobby as well as if I were him.
I loved this series, and hope you will too. Though I am positive you will, at the very least, find it mysterious, fun, and as captivating as I did.

Life

This is a poem I wrote in the spur of the moment in 6th grade.

LIFE
Life is like the wind,
Coming, and going,
Never predictable.
Life is like a new born flower,
Honest,
Beautiful,
Forever fragile.
Life is like a baby bird,
Dependent,
Trusting,
Trying out its new wings.
Life is a choice,
The truth,
A lie,
To hurt,
To heal,
To try,
To regret.
Life is what you make it,
Happiness,
Sadness,
Peace,
Anger,
Love,
Hatred.
Life is like a fresh squeezed orange,
Pure, sweet, a bitter sour.
Life gives,
It takes,
It is reborn.
Life is peculiar.
I'm alive,
Others aren't
But are remembered
For their work lives on,
Their bloodline continues,
And like a new flower
In the spring
They are reborn again.

RELIEF

Summer... This single word brings many different things to mind. It brings color. The bright blues of a summer sky, and a warm lake. The vibrant yellows of the sunflowers,and the scorching sun. The hot pinks of beach balls, and flower-print bikinis . The scarlet reds of new mustangs, and newly budding begonias. The gorgeous greens of leaves on the once winter-bared trees. The deep dark browns of fresh dirt.

The thought of summer it doesn't only bring color but a number of things. It brings heat for one, but the most important thing about summer is that it brings relief. For a high school student like me right now, during Autumn, the thought of summer brings relief. Not only from the cold, but from the pressures of school life also. NO more homework, NO more detentions, and NO more getting up at 6 in the morning. The thought that summer is complete vacation is a lie though. At least for me it is. During summer I have a job at Latino family services, and I do sports on 3 different leagues. Every day I have a practice, or a game, and even though that sounds like fun, not only do I have to rush all the time, but I also have to balance work time too. During summer I can't wait until school starts again.

When I do have school it is hectic. I have a whole bunch of homework all the time; I always go to bed late because not only am I in swimming, I also do hockey, dance, and I have to be at school by 7:00 AM. In school you have to worry about friends, rumors, boys, and grades. In school you have to worry about the "right look" (I don't have enough money to find mine), and if you dress differently people tend to label you as weird, or freaky. Although I'm not proud of it, even I've thought those things, and really believed them about a few "odd" people. During school I can't wait until it's summer again .

People (myself included) do not dream, and wish for school, or summer, or anything else because they think that specific time of the year is great. They wish for these things because they want relief from pressure. The longing for a time to cast away all worries like you did as a child is a part of human nature. The longing for relief from burdens is a part of human nature. Humans shy away from pain naturally, and they (we) regard most burdens as pain. The longing for relief is a part of human nature, as much as the tendency to tell small white lies. As much as the tendency to to do what you can to fit in so as not to be ridiculed. Humans are perplex in their many and varied natures. But the most basic of them is the longing, the need, the want for relief.

An Alphabet About Myself, and My Life

A-is for Artistic. I love to draw, paint, and sculpt. I love creating things.


B-is for Bologna. If there is one sandwhich meat that really gets to to me, it's bologna. It smells. It tastes bad. It's not even pronounced the way it's Spelled. I hate bologna.


C- is for Cartwheels. When I was little I hated doing cartwheels in gymnastics, and because of that I could never learn how to do them. I fervently wish I could now, and I'm jealous of whomever can. I look like a frog when I try!


D- is for "Dry land". In swimming before practice we always do "Dry land", which is where we do sit-ups, pull ups, and run half a mile. I really wish I was as small as some of the other girls during this. It's so hard, and they fly off the ground as they do theirs.Sometimes I wish I could just zip it all off, and be light as a feather too.


E- is for Eggs. Eggs and bacon are my favorite foods for breakfast. That's why I love omelletes. When I was in third grade my mom taught me how to make them. It took me one try to learn, and then I was off! Since then it takes me about an hour just to get everything ready because I want them to be just right. During the summer if my family wants omelletes for breakfast, they know who to ask; and to ask early too!


F- is for Flowers. I love flowers. I think they're a beautiful piece of life. They represent rebirth, when new buds come in the spring; They represent sadness when they're on a grave; They represent remembrance at funerals; They represent love in blood-red roses; They represent friendship in delicate white. There are flowers to express anything, and everything; and with such power in them that is why I say I love them. They deserve to be loved, and that is why they are.


G-is for Gambling. One time when I was small I made a bet. It was a stupid bet but I was so sure of myself. I lost, and I had to eat a worm. I'll never forget the taste. So bad it can't be described. I was scarred for life.


H-is for Holocaust. When I was little I saw a movie on the Holocaust on TV. I wasn't supposed to watch it but I snuck behind the couch to watch it anyway.It made me want to puke, and I probably would've if I had eaten earlier.The Images and words from the screen will forever be burned into my mind.


I-is for Ice cream. My family and I always go the Dairy farm every year. They have the best homemade Ice cream in the world. We always go during their "festival" because then there is free games, activities, and Ice cream samples as big as softballs in 30 different flavors! We always buy the kind we like after sampling it by the end of the "festival."


J- is for Jogging.I hate jogging and running, and I always will, but swimming has made me so much better at it.So much in fact that when before, I would be struggling for breath, and stopping because of that more so than because of hurt mucles, now it's my aching legs that are stopping me.


K-is for Karoke. When I was little I loved to sing(still do), and I would prance around the house wailing out my favorite songs.When I got a Karoke machine that christmas I was ecstatic. Bellowing out loud songs not caring how I sounded.I loved that ignorance(miss it too) because without it I became embarrassed and then sang only queitly or by myself. The only time I sing loud not caring how I sound now is when I clean; No matter how hard my brothers try to stop me.


L-is for Lance. Lance is one of my older brothers. Even though we fight alot I love him. Him and my other brothers is what has made me tough. Instead of playing with dolls, I grew up playing Football, Wrestling, and having shoe "wars." We would make up the craziest games and competitions. I basically grew up like "The fifth brother" because I was always around so many of them(guys).


M-is for Monster. The first time I tried a Monster(the energy drink) I was thrilled. I was 14 and I thought it would taste kind of like really sugary pop(soda). I wasn't to thrilled to have to try it, but because everyone insisted it was great, and because I liked the smell, I tried it. It was like liquid fire running down my throat. It was cold, Sweet, and spicy, and filled me up with energy. I loved it.


N-is for "Ner-ock."My brother calls me a ner-ock because I'm a nerd and a jock. I love any kind of sport and if I had the time, whether or not I was good at them, I would still try out every single one(join every team). That is why he calls me a jock. He calls me a nerd because of my love of books. If I could I would live in a library to have total, and complete acess to books at any time.


O- is for Orthodonist. For some odd reason my orthodonist thinks my "arch" is messed up, and that my teeth are to close together. Because of this I have to wear a spacer on the roof of my mouth. This messes me up because of three things. One, I can't eat anything sticky and chewy. I can't eat anything hard(I guess potato chips are hard). I also can't even eat fast. I mean before I was a slow eater. But now... It takes me half an hour to eat a small Mickey-Dee's frie. Don't even get me started on what I have to do when food gets stuck behind my spacer.The second reason is because I can't talk. I mean I can talk it's just unintelligible. Try talking without using the top of your mouth. It's hard right;? And that's how I sounded for the first day of highschool. The third reason is that it looks bad. I know that the Orthodonist said you're not supposed to see it, but you can still see its affects. After 4 weeks I have a huge gap in between my front teeth. I look like an 8 year old. It's horrible!


P-is for Pink. When I was five I was the girliest girl around. I loved pink, I played with dolls all the time, I wore skirts, and dresses to school . Everything I did was epically girly. I still loved sports, and getting soaked in the rain. I still loved painting till my arms were covered. I was a tomboyish girly girl who was in love with pink. Now looking back I probably just liked everything I tried.


Q- is for Questions. All of my life I've had an insatible curiosoty. Why is this happening? What would happen if I did this? Just random questiones that make my curiosity skyrocket. In Mr. Rathburns class in eighth grade I was infamous for taking up large amounts of class time to sooth the incessant itching of my curiuos mind; because otherwise I would get so lost contemplating those questiones, and the answers to them that I would zone out and miss large amounts of class time myself.

R- is for Rodriguez. The first time I moved to Livonia I was shocked. I had grown up in Detroit, and there the Hispanic community was strong, and there was a Rodriguez somewhere in everyones family(tree). When I moved to Livonia everyone was shocked. At almost any given time, when I was at school people would ask me if I was related to Pudge (The major league baseball player). The fact that people would even think that amused me at first, but then I became annoying. Do I look like I'm related to pudge? Do you think That I would be going here if I was? Do you even know how many americans have the last name Rodriguez? And that is what shocked me. The fact that just because I have a similar last name does not mean that I'm related to someone, when that last name is one of the most popular last names of Hispanics. I mean come on people! Really?


S-is for Softball. I love softball. I've been playing since I was in 5th grade, and just last summer my team and I went to the District championship, and that was the first year my team had tried out for something like that. When I first started playing my position for 2 years was 2nd base. In the next two I would join 4 different leagues at the least every year, and I became a holder of the positions catcher, first baseman, 3rd baseman, shortstop, and recently I've tried to learn to pitch at the insistance of my coach, my mom, and myself; because of my large, and new found love of it.


T- is for "Tots." For some inane reason people at school call me tots. Like tater tots. It all started when a kid named jacob started calling me tots because he thought it was hilarious. At my insistance he stopped; but it was too late. It had caught on and now people know me as Tots.I really hate it but what can I do? I can tell each individual person not to call me that(which I do by the way) but that is going to take along time. I can't get into a fight to show an example to make them stop (what my brother told me to do) because I'm in different sports all year and I would get kicked off of the team. So if you go to my school DO NOT CALL ME TOTS! Thank you.


U- is for Utopia. What is a utopia? I believe that the reason that we(humans) cannot have a utopian society is because as humans to achieve it it would be hopelessly impossible. As humans we tend to argue. We argue over our opinions, over our rights, and over every single thing we deem as different and bad. Because humans are so vastly complex in their thoughts and differences is the reason we cannot create a utopian soceity. Because in each persons mind their vision of a utopia is different than everyone elses. Because of this base fact we cannot ever create a true utopia for everyone to live in.


V- is for Voltures. In the movie Ice age 2 Iloved it when the voltures sang. Especialy the baby one. I laughed so hard. It was hilarious, and adorable.


W- is for Whales. When I was about 5 I saw the movie pinnochio. In it the old man got eaten by a whale. It scared me so much that I cried when I thought they(pinnochio, and the old man)were going to die because of it.


X- is for Xylophone. I have never played an actual xylophone but I have seen people who have. I like its sound but the marimba is for me. I love the way its sound curls, and smokes, and breathes.


Y- is for Yak. The Yak is one of my favorite animales. I love the way it looks and everything about it. I'm afraid for the remaining Yaks becoming extinct because they are an already endangered animal, and they are still being poached which is making their numbers dwindle obtusely. In the last century the Yak population has decreased by half.


Z- is for Zorro. The movie the Zorro is one of my favorites. Although I have yet to see the old ones, or the ones without Antonio Banderas, I have still seen 2 of them, and in each one I'm zyched to see what happens next, and I'm always sad to see the movie end.

Hyena Bells

Hyena Bells
A story about the first day of high school
“Hyeeee!!!” Like a wounded hyena the bell rang. My best friend Ansa and I were in the middle of scrambling to class when we heard the offending noise. It was the first day in a new school for the both of us and we didn’t really understand our way around yet .We were like blind mice looking for cheese in a maze. Desperate and rushing we ran into more dead ends than not. But not only did we get confused by the schools layout, Ansa & I were also confused by the schools bells. In our old school there was only one, and if you weren’t in your seat by the time it rang you were late. Here at Stevenson there were several bells at different intervals, and so it was leaving us freshman wondering whether we were late or not.
So another hyena sounding bell had just rang, and Ansa suddenly stopped. She turned towards me, and had the most peculiar expression on her face. Her hair was wild, unkempt in her hurry. Her mouth was wide, agar, looking like an odd sort of fish. Her eyes were huge (!), round, popping out the sockets, adding to that odd sort of fish look .The overall effect was rather startling, and… slightly funny.
Ansa asked tensely, her voice thick with tremors, “Was that the last bell?!!!”
Many of you probably don’t understand how that would be such a big deal, but then you probably don’t know Ansa all that well either. In Ansas world getting a B is failing a class. It doesn’t matter if it’s a B+, or even 1 percent from an A-. No. Scratch that .An A- is even bad to her .Now she was going to be late to class on the first day of High school, and to the teacher that had already expressed his displeasure of those who were late. Let me explain how he could have already expressed this on the first day, when we were going to be late to class, which means we weren’t even there yet. We- Ansa and I -have B lunch; which means halfway through 4th hr class we leave for lunch, and then come back for the rest of the hour. When the lunch bell rings, then we have to hurry back to class .So Ansa was scared .Frightened really; of being late .Which leads us back to Ansas earlier question .Was that the last bell?
After a moment I answered “Yes. I’m sure.” 80% positive. I continued “But I think we shouldn’t run if we’re already late...” and yet half the words weren’t even in out of my mouth before she took off down the hall; Acting as though I had said to run rather than not to run. Showing surprising agility for someone who hated sports, she weaved in and out of the last few late for class. Those ’’ Last few” who were still in the hall were eyeing her like she had some “mental problems” that seriously needed to be diagnosed. But after a moment they went back to their whispered conversations either forgetting the girl whom had her tongue hanging out while she ran, or letting that memory settle to the back of their minds for a story at the end of the day. All of this happened in only a couple of seconds so maybe, I was reading too much into my intuition and their expressions, but maybe not. In those split seconds I decided to run too. I didn’t want to be the last to class and who knew, it’d probably be fun. So down the hall I went, repeating Ansas weaving motions and sprinting when I was at the very end of it. Wrong move on my part. As I was sprinting at the corner someone else turned it. In surprise I reacted in a quick moment of instinct. I placed my hand on the rough brick wall and pushed off. Though it saved us from impact, the pain that shot up my arm was jarring. As I jumped to my right foot and slid with my left a quarter flew from my pocket and skidded across the floor. My head turned toward the little ring of noise and I noticed the expression on the face of the boy that I had prevented the impact of. He was shocked. His eyebrows were raised so high they almost disappeared into his hairline, his mouth was a silent O. His expression was literally so comical I laughed out loud. Flashing a grin I turned and saw the blood on my hand dripping from my finger tips. I’d scraped my palm. Grinning again I continued scrambling to Spanish class.
When I got there Mr. Kantor was still at his computer not even paying attention to the students. I walked to my seat. After about a minute he asked “Was that the last bell?” No one answered. As a girl walked in and sat in her seat, another high pitched hyena sounding bell rang. “Okay.” Exclaimed Mr. Kantor “That’s the last bell so let’s get started!’’ As he continued to say hello to the class in Spanish Ansa and I looked at each other. My eyes bemused hers accusing. Then, at the same moment we both laughed. It was a joyous sound. Filled with amusement, embarrassment, and adrenaline, everything rang out in loud peals of laughter. Mr. Kantor Cleared his throat. Smiling sheepishly we turned to the Spanish teacher to finish our first day in High School…