A textbook is a valuable aspect for school. It contains a lot of important information. But after flipping through multiple pages, it can just become dry reading that doesn’t hold your interest anymore.

I learn best when I have exposure to technology. Throughout eighth grade we started our own blogs, a place that could be the hub for our authentic writing. We also used Wikispaces, where we formed our own belief statement page. It was a new experience: a challenging one, but a fun one as well. And when we did learn about grammar and paragrapghs, it was in a funny video that involved ninjas and funny examples.

I’m not saying that textbooks are bad; I want to remind teachers that there are other things to use for learning.

My expectations for my 9th grade Language Arts teacher would be that they don’t totally change the curriculum just for a couple of students, but to gradually add some new resources like Wikispaces. I want a chance to be able to express myself while still maintaining the school’s standards. I also want to be challenged, because reading a textbook only proves how many words I can read per minute or how much information I can obtain in a certain amount of time.

Yay Huskies!!

And the cycle continued: the hiding and finding of treasures by the waves.

This is my personal curriculum about using the five senses.

It’s just happened really fast. There have been a lot of memories from 7th grade (Young Scientists project, SMR) and there have been other memorable experiences from 8th grade right now. I’m sure that when I’m in 9th grade I’ll look back on my experiences and reflect upon what I could have done differently.

I’m going to try to spend some more time with friends because they’re going to a different high school (but I’ll probably see them over summer.) And I guess, although I don’t know how, I’ll try to make a lasting impression on people because it’s eight more weeks and then 8th grade is gone.

This piece of writing might sound kind of sad, and it is. In eight weeks we’ll be signing year books, scribbling the generic Have a great summer! and waving our last good-bye to CMS. I’m going to miss 8th grade, but I’m also looking forward to the next four years of high school that I’m sure are going to be pretty hard and pretty fun.

The name of Bush's operation is Operation Iraqi Freedom, or OIF. In my opinion is should stand for Operation Iraqi FAILED. Althought there is the glittering media facade that says we are finally making some progress, in truth we are not. Yes, we have helped Iraqi citizens to establish a stable democracy and we have captured Hussein, but at what cost for our soldiers? We have lost 3,218 people that were fighting for our country. 24,000 have been wounded. And there is no doubt that the number will increase. 

This kind of reminds me of the poem we read in Language Arts awhile ago, the one about statistics.  A soldier just seems to become another statistic as the days pass. 

When some troops came back, some of their limbs blown off, I'm pretty sure that they expected proper healthcare. But no. Bush can't afford to help the soldiers that valiantly put themselves out  there on the battlefield to defend their country. And I recently heard that Bush is going to send physcially disabled soldiers back into the war.

WHAT? Imagine you're in a wheelchair, and Bush wants you wheeling between mines and bullets. I mean, how can he do that? Why doesn't he get out there so he can know what our soldiers go through day-to-day?

I'm sorry, but I'm extremely adamant about this issue. Our troops need to get out of Iraq immediately before anymore innocent lives are lost.

This TV show, Beauty and the Geek, featured 8 girls and 8 guys. After the guys got makeovers, they were seen as better looking by society. But just because you're pretty doesn't mean you're not shallow. One of the 'geeks' went out on a date with a girl and she brought up the topic that if a baby were put in front of a pretty person and an ugly person, the baby would rather go towards the pretty person. The 'geek' wondered aloud now you would judge this.

Honestly, he's got a point. Ugly's just a word we use because it's our opinion.

Like look at this dog. You could think that this dog is the cutest thing in the world, or you could think that it's totally ugly and you want to leave this page immediately. I think it's cute, but that's my opinion.

I just thought I'd drudge up this topic again because as we get older, some of us get more absorbed with how we look. And we shouldn't judge each other so much because looks are only skin deep.

Sometimes I just wish I could take back time

So I could do better on my math test

Or go apologize to someone that really deserved it

Why does time have to go by so fast

I don't think we realize how fast it is

One minute we're sitting here, typing a post

The next minute we're at lunch

And then we're out of school

Sometimes I wish that I could go back in time

See myself as a child 

Relive all those happy memories

Instead of having to worry about other things

Like how many pacers I'll have to do

Or how much I should study for a test.

Someday maybe I won't be so worried about time

And everything that seems to orbit around it

But that will probably be another day

When I'm not thinking about what time I need to be here in the morning

Or how many days till summer. 

Jen looked down at her own plate sadly. She sighed and looked over at the large pile of presents on the couch. They were wrapped in beautiful patterns and tied with luxurious bows. They had intrigued Jen’s interest when she had left for school this morning. Now she just wished that they weren’t there. Jen leaned forward and grabbed a handful of chips.

A scent of expensive perfume filled the room. Jen felt her mother sit down on the carpet next to her. Her mother put her large mug of tea on the table with a dull thud.

“They didn’t come,” Jen whispered. “My friends didn’t come.”

Her mother gave a wan smile. “Don’t be sad, honey. I’m sure they just forgot.”

“All fourteen of them?” Jen said. She looked into her mom’s eyes. “No, mom, they didn’t want to come.” Jen picked up her mother’s cup of tea and took a long sip.

“They could have told me or something,” Jen added ruefully. “They all seemed so excited at school today. All of them acted so happy.”

Jen’s mother wiped away a tear that Jen hadn’t known was there. “I am really sorry, Jen. I didn’t think your birthday would turn out this way.” She put her cool hand on Jen’s. “How about I go call your dad, okay? Maybe he can leave work early and we’ll all go out to dinner.”

Jen nodded. She knew her mom was trying. But nothing would make this better. Not the presents, not the dinner, nothing.

A place

Full of memories

Of slumber parties

Pizza parties

Just a bunch of friends watching movies

~

A home

A place that you could call your own

One to come home to every night

And feel safe

And sound

And know that it will stay the same

~

A home

A place you have to leave behind

One with all the laughter

The joy

The secrets

The sadness

~

A house

And that’s all it will be

For now.

There will be new memories

New parties

New feelings of safeness

More happiness

More sadness

But it will take awhile for it to be

My home.

Yay! 2007, the year of the pig, has finally arrived. There was a special about this on Animal Planet, and I was inspired to blog about it.

For all of you born in 1992, your animal is

The monkey!

Some traits of the monkey:

• has lots of ideas
• competitive
• funny
• smart
• ambitious
• resourceful
• curious

And 1993 is the

ROOSTER!

Some traits of the rooster:

• efficient
• intelligent
• generous
• strong-willed
• energetic
• perfectionist
• successful

And I included 1994 in case you’re in seventh grade. Your animal is the

DOG!

Some traits of the dog:

• honest
• loyal
• leader
• generous
• organizers
• practical
• smart

Now, I’m not sure that all of these traits are true in every person, but they seem pretty accurate for me.

GUNG HAY FAT CHOY!

I handed the crinkled dollar bill to the student teacher standing in the hallway. She gave me a sucker with a happy face on it. Cherry cheesecake, I think. I had no idea how it would taste, but I would never know unless I tried. I took off the plastic and put the sucker in my mouth. It was gross.

Note to self: stick to the real thing in the future.

I walked away and discarded the lollipop quickly. As I made my way to the front door. I saw friends hugging each other, holding little valentines. There was a girl who was thanking her boyfriend for a sweet chocolate rose. The school shop was selling small candy hearts and heart balloons. A group of kids were thrusting their money at the person in charge.
I pushed open the front door, kicking a pebble. Candy hearts, chocolate roses, foil valentines; what’s so special about this made up holiday anyway?

*Note: I don’t really feel this way about Valentine’s Day.

I will prove to my parents that I learned something by demonstrating my profound knowledge of new words. I will use words like “loqacious” and “translucent” and “sangfroid” (and if anyone knows what that means, then you’re smart!) I will also share my views with them about such topics that we’re learning about, like what one of the most important events of our time is. Being part of this class has really helped me to get a deeper understanding of other things going on in the world, and not just focusing on the happenings in the USA.

And hopefully, I will also prove to my parents that I have become a better writer. I have learned to expand my types of writing besides fictional stories. I have shared my opinions, written informative pieces, and increased the amount of description in my stories.

The super bowl offers so many things: a chance to watch grown men tackle each other for a football, bet big bucks on the best team (the bears lost *sniff*), and a chance to see some really silly commercials. Below I have posted a few commercials and my comments. And if you didn’t watch the super bowl, here’s the perfect place to see the commercials so you know what everyone is talking about.

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This puts Rock Paper Scissors on a whole new level. I would really hate it if that guy had thrown scissors.

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This commercial really shows that there are heroes everywhere. I mean, trying to stop a car and then falling forward… Well, it’s the thought that counts.

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If you were ever wondering how to stop someone from stealing your Sierra Mist, then follow those examples. Although smashing someone’s head with a lamp is a little extreme. It’s just a soda!

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This commercial was really funny. “Quick, do something manly!” Classic. And it made me reconsider the way that I eat my candy bars.

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It’s amazing that one beverage can change the world for the better. If only a soda could really do that. But we’re all just people. However, that doesn’t mean that we can’t help out others. If you ever see someone that you think could use a hand, why don’t you be the one to help them up.

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When the fist bump is out, the slap is in. Nothing gives a genuine thanks like a slap. But does everyone on Discovery have to start slapping each other? Looks like advertisements really do influence the society. (The end is pretty funny; I would hate to be that guy!)

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Take a wild ride on the inside of a coke machine. I feel so special that each coke is lovingly made this way for everyone! (A factory isn’t that far behind.)

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I just put this out there because, well, I didn’t really have a reason, but it has my favorite animal. And I was in the mood for a burrrrrito.

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You never really think about what one finger can do. I think we find ourselves taking our fingers for granted. I mean, we only use them 99% of the day. So today, really think about what your fingers do. I mean, your fingers control the keys on this laptop or computer, they help you to send text messages to your friends… There are so many things you can do with your fingers.

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Yep. The commercials are really over. Companies are waiting eagerly to find out if their million dollar, 30-second advertising will pay off. And you, hopefully, have gained some insight about how strange, and hilarious, the super bowl commercials of 2007 are.

Above is a funny bubblr clip about fast food (more specifically, McDonald’s).

I made this because I had some time to spare and because I thought it was important. McDonald’s is spreading out all over the world, already taking root in over 60 countries. Slowly they branch out even to the small towns, building their enterprise and drawing more people in with their commercials and promise of good food.

That’s another thing, the misleading commercials. They show normal kids struggling to accomplish some sports feat, but with the help of Ronald McDonald they are able to skateboard, or shoot a basket, or score a goal. I find this really ironic. Eating fast food won’t make you more athletic. You’ll just gain weight and become more addicted to fried foods. I mean, these kinds of foods are okay once in awhile, but you do have other healthy alternatives. Instead of having fries, you could have an apple or pretzels. Instead of having a burger, you could have a sandwich. Instead of a milkshake, you could have an all-fruit smoothie. There are lots of other healthy things to eat. So next time you’re thinking about going to McDonald’s or buying fatty food for lunch, remember, there are other options!

There was this person I once knew that talked so much that something rather amazing happened. At first he started out as a shy, quiet student. Then one day Ron decided to talk to more people and found out people liked listening to what he had to say. He made some new friends and before you knew it everyone began listening to him.

And then, as it turned out, Ron couldn’t stop talking. It turned out that he had a rather extreme syndrome called STTALS (Super Talkative Talk A Lot Syndrome). No matter what he did, he had to keep talking. Even when he drank a glass, his mouth would keep moving, spraying milk all over the table.

Soon Ron was hospitalized. They made him eat a peanut butter sandwich to keep his mouth shut after diagnosing him as a loquaholic (it’s on pseudodictionary, look it up!) Eventually, after a couple days, Ron could speak again, still with that same confidence but not as quickly.

George Bush heard about this miraculous boy right as his term was ending in 2008, realizing that he still had many things he wanted to do in office. He hired Ron to be his left hand man because someone was already his right hand man. The campaigns began to start, and George Bush put Ron on his commercials to try and persuade the people that he would make a good president for the next 4 years. The citizens of America sat down each night, watching little Ron speaking into the microphone on the podium. They smiled as they watched him tell how great a job the president was doing, how he was keeping our country safe, and so on and so forth.

The polls came in November, and all of the US ran to the polls, eager to cast their vote. And when the number was finally counted, Bush was elected again, even though he hadn’t been a choice. And it was thanks to Ron.

The Congress mulled over the matter for some time before coming to the conclusion that George would make a good next president. Before Bush settled into the White House once more, he thanked Ron for all his hard work and told him to come visit anytime.

We stayed in Iraq for 4 more years.

On a happier note, Ron went on to star on a commercial for brussel sprouts and convinced everyone that brussel sprouts would make you attractive, taller, have blond hair, win the lottery, or make you smart. America was out of brussel sprouts a week later.
It’s amazing what the power of words can do.

“Dad, I dunno… I’m not sure. Mom’s not here. I’ll have her call you when she gets home,” I said, twisting the phone cord around my finger.

“Actually, I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell her about this. She probably wouldn’t be too happy that I was calling you. Bye.” He hung up the phone.

I put the phone down and flopped on my bed. I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. My dad had helped me put them up a few years ago, telling me that if I made on a wish on a star every night, all those wishes would come true. Someday. And every night I had stared at those little stars, wishing for ponies and new clothes and good grades in math. About 35% of those wishes came true.

And then my mom and dad had started fighting. I would lock myself in my room, staring at those stars and waiting for a miracle to happen. Maybe it was a miracle for my parents when they got divorced. Not for me.

I only talk to my dad whenever he calls me, usually on Friday nights every other week. I never really look forward to them. We always talk about the same things. “How was school?” “Fine.” “And your friends?” “Yeah, they’re good.” Then I’ll ask him about his girlfriend. He’ll say everything’s great. We’ll make small talk for about five minutes, and then he’ll drudge up the subject of mom. I’m never really sure what to say. We’re pretty well off, but she has a lot of payments and bills every month. Nothing that I can ever help with. So I just say we’re fine.

But this phone call was different. He was actually apologizing for leaving us, mostly me. He can probably figure that the bills every month are a struggle, as well as paying for college, which isn’t far off. He offered to send some money to help us out. I didn’t know what to say.

And now I’m staring at the ceiling dolefully, wishing that this whole situation had never happened.

I think it would be really cool to play an instrument, maybe the or the . I also think it would be fun to write the lyrics to a song because I am a pretty creative person. Maybe I could try , although that would probably drive my parents up the wall. But first I would have to practice, and I’m really not a big fan of doing that everyday.

But I’m going to try and make it my personal curriculum to play the piano a little more and research about how to read music. Or I could just ask my friends. Either way I’m going to try something challenging, something new. Because I’d rather be someone who knows a little about music than nothing at all.

I biked along in the humid afternoon sun, the wheels of my bike moving smoothly over the conrete. I was taking the familiar path that had guided me so well throughout my life, unchanging. There was only forward, no left or right or little detour that would keep me from reaching my goal. So imagine my surprise when suddenly, that little path did not lead forward to my similar suburbia, but off to the left, and right.

My eyes widened in shock. When had this happened? When had these new roads been added? I jumped off my bike and hurried forward, unclipping my helmet. I stared forward, my eyes lighting on the little cul-de-sac not too far away. This was the path I was supposed to take to reach my house.

But then my eyes averted to the left. I saw a little building off in the distance, a hazy road which looked very bumpy. I walked forward, then took a step back. I wasn’t too sure that this was the right path. Everything was so unclear, so full of doubt…

And then I looked to my right. The road seemed to go on forever, but it looked promising and trustworthy. I couldn’t see the end. I didn’t know if this was the right path.

There were unforseen obstacles, of course. And probably some steep hills and potholes. I wouldn’t know until I tried.

Slowly I picked up my helmet, clipped it together, and walked over to my bike. I positioned myself on the seat and began to pedal forward. With regret I looked at the warm suburbia, something that had always stayed the same. I looked down the vanishing road. I made up my mind and pedaled to the right, my confidence increasing with every inch.

Advantages

This would really help put a stop to global warming. I mean, cars that use ethanol are good too, but not many people are driving those. People would not have to worry about paying money for gas. Also, it would mean that America was healthier, because citizens would be able to walk and bike to work. We wouldn’t have to worry about oil spills, and many animals would be safer.

Disadvantages

Then again…Car companies would be out of the job. There really is not point in having a car if there’s no fuel to power it. As quoted by Dick Cheney in 1999: “By 2010 we will need [a further] 50 million barrels a day. The Middle East, with two-thirds of the oil and the lowest cost, is still where the prize lies.” All the countries with oil would lose their profit and would fall into poverty. America would go into panic, because we use oil for many things in our daily lives. CDs, shoes, canned foods, iPods, Band-aids, plastic bottles, and make-up could not be used anymore. Our country would begin to fall apart.

Shockingly enough, oil could be gone in the next thirty to forty years. And we’re using most of it. So start considering what could be done to help cut down on oil use. Use more energy efficient products, recycle, there are so many things that can be done!

1. First I need to finish my book.

2. Next I need to research how to write a good book review.

3. Talk to Mr. Wilkoff about how I can improve my ‘book review’ skills.

4. After that I should sum up all the things that I have learned and then write an outstanding book review. And my final product, will, of course, be a book review.
To write a descriptive paragraph…

1. Select a few of the five senses that I want to use.

2. Pick a topic what I want to write about.

3. Research how to use the five senses in a very descriptive way.

4. Write the paragraph. Final product = pretty self-explanatory.

To write about a global issue…

1. Know what global issue that I want to do. (I think I already have one in mind.)

2. Research that issue and its effects.

3. Convey an important message about how it should be stopped. This will probably be a PowerPoint.

2. I want to write a very descriptive paragraph that uses some of the 5 senses.

3. I want to write something that has to do with a global issue, like a war.

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All the people playing musicals instruments came out. Then the choir filed into their rows, all wearing the same black. Lastly were the singers. Everybody clapped enthusiastically. There was an overture, and then the real fun part of the orchestra began.

The tenor stood up and begins to sing his piece. At first I’m thinking “Oh, this is a nice tune”, but then he repeats the lyrics more than 10 times. “The crooked straight, and the rough places plain!” he belted. I couldn’t believe. I thought that people would get the point after the second repetition! But no, it continued…

After that I started keeping track of how many times they repeated the phrases. It was almost funny after hearing them repeat it a lot.

INTERMISSION!

I wanted to scream Hallelujah. It was so boring. We hurried out of the theater and got milk and a cookie. And, sadly, we had to go back!

I started to keep track again, then I doodled, and then, for about ten minutes I think I fell asleep. After that I groggily stood up and listened to the Hallelujah chorus. My mom said that that one part was worth waiting for. Honestly, I don’t know if I’d agree. I know people considered this entertainment back then, but now, if it puts people to sleep…

MY RATING (out of 10):

But there was one, off to the left, that was wrapped in shiny paper with mistletoe on it. Two hands reached out towards the gift eagerly, the light illuminating small hands. Slowly the gift tag was turned over, the name read. Then the present was returned to its place.

*          *          *

“Excited? Not that many days till Christmas!” Mrs. Patterson said as she whisked the eggs.

“I know! I’m so excited that I’m getting new skates… I mean the present I don’t know about!” Andrea said quickly. She turned to look at her brother. “Why so glum?”

Taylor shrugged. “I’m not.”

Mrs. Patterson looked up. “Now look, hon, I know we don’t have a lot of money right now, but let’s try and have a nice holiday, all right?”

“How come you can afford to get Andrea skates but I can’t get that new game?” Taylor moaned. Andrea rolled her eyes and stood up.

“Because, smart one, I actually need these skates.” She walked over to her mom.

“But your skates work just fine! Mom said so!” Taylor said defiantly, raising his arms in the air. “I mwan, it’s just–”

“Now, Taylor, her skates are getting a little rusty. We don’t want her to break an ankle.” Mrs. Patterson poured the eggs into a frying pan.

“You always have enough money for her!” Taylor said. “Enough for her classes, enough for new skates! There’s only two presents out there for me! And I bet that they’re socks and something else that’s equally lame!”  He stormed out of the room.

“What’s his deal?” Andrea said. Mrs. Patterson stared sadly after her son.

“Can you finish making these?” she asked, pushing Andrea towards the pan. “Thanks. I’ll be back.”

Look more like claws to me, I thought, taking the bag of English muffins from the fridge. Mom gave me a strange look before turning to Grandmother.

“So, Grandmother, how long do you expect to be here?”

It was weird, to call your own mother ‘Grandmother’. I mean, I had a reason. But Mom? It was just weird. I put two English muffins in the toaster.

“A week, two weeks, as long as you’re willing to keep me here. It’s just dreadful, I’m not ready to go home after that fire we had,” she added melodramatically.

“Fire?” Mom said, astonished. “Mom, I– I mean, Grandmother, when did this happen?”

“Oh, it was about five days ago.” Grandmother adjusted her chair. She always did this when she was getting ready to tell a story. ”I was getting ready to go to sleep when all of a sudden I could smell something burning.” She paused to let this sink in.

“You hadn’t left something on the stove…” Mom said.

“Oh, no, I learned that lesson back when Garrett and I were together. No, it was that darned neighbor of mine, Eliza Springsteen! A twentysomething went out to shop with her friends and left some bacon frying. Heaven knows why you’d have a breakfast food for dinner! Anyway, I woke up immediately before accidentally stepping on my cat. It was dark, you see, and I didn’t have my glasses. They really should fix the lighting, I might have broken poor Shiloh’s back… Speaking of which, have you too ever considered getting a pet? Keep you pretty company when you’re lonely.”

“Grandmother, I thought we were talking about the fire,” Mom said. Grandmother raised her eyebrows.

“What fire?”

“The fire that happened at your apartment building, because somebody was frying bacon and left the stove on…”

“Ooooooooh, you mean that fire.” Grandmother nodded. “Well, I think I shall have to tell you tomorrow about what else happened, you wouldn’t want me to bore you with such a silly little experience. Shall I go put my things on the couch?”

Mom shook her head. “No, you can sleep in the spare room. Unless you want to sleep on the couch.”

“Splendid. I’ll get my things from the car and then maybe we’ll have those English muffins. Whatever did happen to those?”

“They, uh–” I said, turning around.

Sprrrrrinngggggg!! Two charred English muffins were laying on the floor. 

“Well, isn’t that a pity. Looks like you’ll just have to start over.” Grandmother swung open the screen door and walked outside, leaving Mom and I to contemplate what had just gone on.

However, one year a woman named Alice decided that they should tell Rex they didn’t like the pies. She thought that there were other pies that they should enjoy during the holidays, like chocolate pecan or cherry. Most of the town agreed and the day before Thanksgiving they marched over to his house. Alice rang the doorbell and after a few moments Rex answered, opening the door with his floury hands.

“Hey!” Rex said, wiping his hand across his forehead and leaving a white streak. “I don’t mean to be rude, but–”

“Look,” Alice said quickly, before they could change their minds by inhaling the aroma of pumpkin pie, “we have all come to a conclusion. As nice as we think your pies are, we don’t want them anymore.”

“What?”

“We have been eating them all these years and we’re really tired of them.”

Rex looked puzzled for a moment. “So…”

“No more pies,” Alice said.

A couple months later Rex moved to Buffalo for business. The families on the cul-de-sac tried apple and, of course, chocolate pecan pie. But honestly, they just weren’t the same. They didn’t have that rich taste, that graham cracker crust. And then, sadly, the neighbors realized that they had taken Rex’s pies for granted, and that at this thankful season they had not been very thankful. 

So be thankful for what you have these holidays because one day, it might be gone. 

But Elliot returned to the dinner table and glared at the cheese. “We’ll catch him this time, I know we will.”

“How do you know it’s a him?” his daughter, Mary, asked plaintively through a mouth of sausage. “Because I named her Wendy! And why do you want to kill a poor, innocent mouse? She never did anything to you!”

The mouse shook his head. He was a boy mouse! He could absolutely not go by Wendy! Slowly he paced around in his little home, then snapped his fingers. Wend would be a good name!* But Mary was right about one thing. What had he ever done to them but eat the food Elliot had kindly supplied him with?

“He’s eating through our fine linens and boxes of who knows what,” Elliot said, spooning more mash on his plate. “You know, Mary,” he said, shaking his fork at her, “when I was your age, I used to have…”

Yes! Now was Wend’s chance! He ran over to his little bed, picked up his helmet, and looked out of the mouse hole. There was Elliot, blabbing on about nothing in particular now, and Mary, looking bored, toying with her mash. Wend darted out of the hole and paused in front of the trap. He glanced up quickly, his beady eyes glittering. Neither had noticed anything. Wend reached forward carefully, his fingers scrabbling to swipe the Swiss from the trap. Wend couldn’t get caught, who knows what Elliot would do to him…

At that moment Elliot looked over at the trap again. His eyes bulged as he saw the small mouse with a red helmet trying to remove the cheese from his 90210 Mouse Trap. Wend looked up and gave a high-pitched squeak! Elliot was running right towards him. It was only a few seconds before–

Success! Wend managed to take his prize and ran as though a vicious cat was on his heels. The trap snapped a few feet from the hole. Elliot raced forward and pressed his eye to the hole.

“I’ll get you mouse, mark my words! YEOWWWW!” Apparently Elliot’s toe had been caught in the trap.

Wend gave a small little chuckle and began to nibble the Swiss. Once again brain had triumphed over brawn… Well, if that’s what you could call Elliot.


* Although Wend is considered what mice would call “a cheese whiz”, he couldn’t come up with a name all that different.

**Click on the picture to find out how many days it is till Christmas!**

(Be sure to have sound on! Not too loud!)

The next day she was asked to join the regional basketball team competition. However, the girl just shrugged. “I’ll consider it.” The basketball coach warned that there were other people they could put on the team, and she needed to decide what she really wanted.

But when she went back to the coach and producer, they said it was too late.

Now she sits on her couch at home, watching the TV show she could have been on. She walks through the school, hearing students talk excitedly about the basketball team that had made it to nationals. She wished she hadn’t let these opportunities fly by, these once- in-a-lifetime opportunities…

“Gonna break another bone, Jamie?” Ricky asked from the doorway, sneering. “I mean, if I were you, I would never want to get out on the ice again and give such a clutzy performance.”

“Well, if I were you I’d get out now!” I exclaimed, picking up my skate. Ricky’s eyes widened and I heard him frantically running down the stairs. I tossed my skate up into the air and caught it. Little brothers. What could you do.

But he did have a point. Last time I had worn these skates, when I had been about to do my triple axel flip or something like that, I had slipped and fallen, severely damaging my left elbow. It had been sticking out of my arm and everything. I winced as the painful memories came back.

I stood up and stared out the window. Snow was gathering around the window panes, making it hard to see the neighborhood. The crayon box houses all looked alike, blanketed with soft, powdery snow that would probably be gone in the next couple days. However, most kids had already taking advantage of the cold weather: there were snowmen in front of the houses, some with top hats, others with celery noses.

Then my eyes strayed upon it. The pond. Its glassy surface was ideal for skating, making figure eights, doing complicated moves with words I couldn’t remember… I should skate again, I would skate again. Quickly I tugged off the skate on my foot with little difficulty, tied the pair of skates together, and hurried down the stairs. I heard the rather annoying ring of the oven go off, signaling the Christmas cookies were done. My puppy, Tyson, looked up from his place by the fire. His eyes stopped on my skates. Suddenly he padded forward.

“Hey boy!” I ran my hand through his fur and realized it was covered with something like cookie dough. I hadn’t remembered my puppy being so dirty. “What the… Ricky.” Revenge was for later. Skating was for now.

6:39. Carol had put everyone in the family room with BLTs. Tyrone and Doug were fighting over the remote, while Lola Mae was typing something on her laptop, a plate with crumbs next to her. Frank was asleep, giving a deep snore occasionally.
6:42. Carol hadn’t known traffic to last for so long. She began to bite her magenta manicured nails anxiously when suddenly she heard the doorbell. Scotty! The three siblings looked up. Frank twitched in his sleep.
“Go into the dining room, hurry!” Carol exclaimed. Thank the Lord he came, Carol thought as she ran to the front door. She couldn’t wait to give him a hug again, see him again, ask him how his trip was… Carol flung open the door, grinning broadly.
“Hi Mom!” Queenie said, smiling back.
The happiness deflated from Carol’s face.

This is one of the few memories I have of my Grandpa. I only saw him and Grandma every couple years. We played croquet in their front yard, walked throughout the one story house with yellow paint on the outside. Or we’d go to Disneyland. That was always fun.

My Grandpa was born in October 1930. He was like my dad: tall. He lived through the Great Depression off food stamps, worked in the copper mines with his brother, became an electrical engineer, and eventually ended up making radars for the army. I wish I could have asked him what that job was liked, it sounds pretty cool. But being a dad must have been better.

We couldn’t tell at first, but my grandpa had Alzheimer’s. He acted normally, although he was kind of quiet. Then he couldn’t remember where he’d put his car keys. Then he started ordering items from magazines for no apparent reason. My grandma would tell him not to do it. But he’d forget.

In 2000 Grandpa was moved into a nursing home because he couldn’t do simple things like taking a shower. They helped feed him his food and walk around.
In April 2001, he passed away. I found out the news when I was being picked up from daycare. My Grandma had called my Mom. She couldn’t reach my Dad. We tried to call him and finally he picked up. He flew out to the west coast that night with barely any luggage. A few days later we were out there too for his funeral. My Dad recollected being read story books and going hunting. During the eulogy he cried. I had never seen him do that before.

The nurse told us that Grandpa had died in her arms when she gave him a hug. An angel helping him into heaven.

I can’t understand why our loved ones have to leave so fast. I was only in 2nd grade. I never knew him that well because I never really saw him. The times I did see Grandpa were only brief visits. But they were good visits. Great visits, ones filled with memories I’ll cherish, like going to the zoo or riding down the driveway on my tricycle while he smiled. I’ll always rememeber him.

I’m glad to know you’re in a better place, Grandpa. And wherever you are, I love you and I hope you’re having a happy birthday in heaven.

~When one shoe is tighter than the other

~When people scratch their nails on the chalkboard and that tingly feeling goes down your spine

~When you’re around someone who’s too hyper

~When you put something down and can’t remember where you put it, like your cell phone or iPod

~The skittles commercial with the singing rabbit

~ Tranqulizing animals

As I’ve learned from a lot of teachers and friends, people who are teasers usually have low self-esteem. They feel bad about themselves so they take it out on other people. They have insecurities, which results in them not knowing how to express their feelings. Or maybe they’re jealous of something others have. And, sadly enough, I know we’ve all done it at least once. But what do you really gain from it? Does it help you fit in if you tease someone? Does it give you a puffed up sense of pride to know that you’re “better” than someone?

~This is how a teased person feels, aka emotional punching bag~

The Teased

As I know we’ve all teased people, I’m pretty sure that all of us have been teased, too. When people get teased, it can lower their self-esteem if it happens more than once. The first time you might shrug it off (I mean, was it really that insulting), but if it keeps continuing it’s important to stand up for yourself! You are totally worth it and you deserve it to tell those people to knock it off. If they don’t hear your message, because they don’t want to or they’re going deaf at 13 then tell someone that can help. Teasing can really hurt.

Would you tease this little kitty?

What You’ve Learned (if you’ve really read this far and didn’t leave already)
Think before you speak. You might regret what you say to someone. If you’re teasing someone, then just stop! If you’re getting teased, be sure to stand up for yourself! And if you see someone getting teased, help ‘em out! I mean come on, if that was you, wouldn’t you want someone to be nice to you too???

                                                                             
Scared       Cool      Dunno       Embarrased      Happy         Really Happy

TOTALLY FANTASTIC!          Shy             Laugh-out-loud hilarious
                                                    

Weird             Miserable *sob*          ANGRY!!!

Two towers, standing tall against the blue sky

People, entering the buildings, not knowing

What tragedy was about to happen

Before it could be

Stopped.

9:02:59 am.

It might not seem an important time today, or tomorrow

But on September 11,

It’s when the South Tower was hit.

In the blink of an eye

our lives changed.

Distaster unfurled before us.

The sky was clouded with smoke;

People tried to escape.

Some made it out, grateful that they came away with just minor scrapes or burns.

Others never left their office.

Firefighters tried to rescue workers from the rubble,

A noble deed that ended

In some losing their lives.

2,973

People that had to pay the price because of the terrorists wreaking havoc.

People that wanted to see our country continue in

peace.

Copyright © 2008 bazookabubblegum. Hosted by Edublogs.]]> http://bazookabubblegum.learnerblogs.org/2006/09/11/911/feed/ http://bazookabubblegum.learnerblogs.org/2006/09/02/kitten-christmas-crisis/ http://bazookabubblegum.learnerblogs.org/2006/09/02/kitten-christmas-crisis/#comments Sat, 02 Sep 2006 17:01:24 +0000 bazookabubblegum http://bazookabubblegum.learnerblogs.org/2006/09/02/kitten-christmas-crisis/

The wind blew harsh through the non-ceasing fall of snowflakes, making a brutal combination for driving. Jenny turned sharply left into the parking lot, her car swerving slightly across the ice. She drove down rows and rows of cars until finally she noticed an empty spot wedged between two trucks. Jenny parked carefully and opened her door. There was a sudden crunch, and to Jenny’s horror she realized that she had made a large dent in the black truck on her left, the paint now on her car door. “This cannot be happening!” Jenny exclaimed. She stared at the damage on the truck, then at her watch. They might not have it if she waited much longer. Her need for the Little Miss Kitten ornament much greater, Jenny ran over to the elevator. She really, truly hoped they had it or there would be no bright side to getting yelled at by the truck driver (unless, hopefully, it could be avoided).

The Christmas shop was a small, very stuffy place packed with people trying to purchase last minute items depsite the exorbitant prices. Jenny pushed through the crowd, getting buffeted accidentally by bags and boxes. She stopped to look at a shiny snowman ornament when she heard a salesman and customer talking behind her. “Sorry ma’am, but we’re totally out of Little Miss Kitten ornaments. I’m extremely sorry; they’ve been flying off the shelves this year. We do have some other things that I’m sure would be to your liking. We have little puppies–”
“What do you mean you don’t have any Little Miss Kitten ornaments?” Jenny asked.
The salesman stared at her in mild surprise. “As I just told this woman, they are very popular. It’d be very hard to find one, especially three days before Christmas.”
“You’ve got to have one!” Jenny pleaded. “I did not just drive through snow and sleet to hear you don’t have a Little Miss Kitten ornament!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said the man, and he departed to the back room. Jenny, exhausted from the excitement of the afternoon, slumped against the shelf.
CRASH. Little stocking holders went toppling to the ground, drawing the unwanted attention of many shoppers. Jenny’s eyes widened and she knelt down to try to reassemble them. The glittering shards of the smiling stocking holders reflected her anguished face. Holding the broken things in her arms, she stood up, staring directly at the salesman. He smirked.
“That’ll be $25.99,” he said plainitively. “Each.”

A frazzled Jenny arrived half an hour later at Oriental Ornamental with more items and less money then she would have liked. She walked into the tiny store, even smaller than the last one, and although there were only a handful of people inside, she still felt as crammed. The air was thick with the scent of cinnamon. A short lady with blonde hair came up to Jenny, setting two teapots onto a table next to her. The name Beatriz was engraved in a gold pin shaped like a tree.
“Tea or cider?” she asked, smiling.
“No coffee? Hot chocolate?”
Beatriz shook her head. “I don’t agree in having any drinks with caffeine. They make you too peppy.”
“I could use a boost of peppy right now,” Jenny muttered.
“What?”
“Do you have any Little Miss Kitten ornaments?” queried Jenny.
The lady’s smile widened. “You actually want one?”
Jenny shrugged. “Not me, my aunt–”
Beatriz had already returned with the requested item. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, her brown eyes shining.
“I just asked for an ornament,” Jenny said.
“No one ever buys these!” Beatriz explained. “The stock in the back is from the last five years. We’ve only sold three Little Miss Kitten ornaments ever since we got them.”
Jenny shrugged, tossing the box from one hand to the other. “Funny, the Christmas store at the mall couldn’t seem to get their hands on enough.”
“They must be a very lucrative business. Come, I’ll ring it up for you,” Beatriz said, and they both walked to the cash register. “I sure hope your aunt likes it,” she remarked as Jenny hastily handed her the money for the ornament.
“Me too. I would’ve been ready to pay an arm and a leg just to get one for her. She’s a very impatient person,” Jenny said.
“Let’s hope that she can wait till Christmas to hang the Little Miss Kitten on her tree.” Beatriz escorted Jenny to the door.
“Merry Christmas,” Jenny said, pulling her hood over her head.
“Merry Christmas!” Beatriz said brightly, waving until Jenny’s small car had disappeared through the flurry of winter frost.