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I've been on a pretty good roll with a lot of good posts (in my opinion), but unfortunatly all things must come to an end. There is going to be no blogging for me tonight. Not with this horrible headache.
Sorry. I'll blog tomorow (if my head stops pounding).
~M 0.o Kie~
But this pisses me off. (Thanks to Jen for the link)
So lets start at the beginning (I'm going to tear this article apart).
If your teen isn't text messaging -- chances are they are blogging. That is journaling their innermost thoughts for all to read on-line. Today blogs are giving teens the creative outlook they need to express what they feel, think and do on a daily basis.*Blinks* First off, I can, and often do IM and Blog at the same time. Second, I don't put my "inner most thoughts" here. I'd be insane, because first off, my parents DO read my Blog. And second a blog isn't just talking about personal life.
he clicks on his Web log, or blog — an on line diary he keeps on a Web site called LiveJournal — and checks for responses from his readers.*Aggravated Sigh* I've said it before, and I'll say it again. A LiveJournal is NOT a Blog. A journal is a place to whine. A blog is a place to whine and have good times.
Lets skip forward a couple of paragraphs to the next passage I've decided needed my personal opinion.
The teenagers who post journals have (depending on your perspective) a degraded or a relaxed sense of privacy; their experiences may be personal, but there’s no shame in sharing.Do I do this? I don't think so. And to some degree I believe there is a shame in sharing. I'm sorry but you don't go onto a blog/journal and just post every single intimate detail of your life. Well some do, but I don't believe in it. Posting your entire life will take up your ENTIRE LIFE. You wont do anything else. A teenager doesn't post about the first time they have sex, or if they smoke weed. You just don't do that. You don't post that you watched a scary movie and peed in your bed. You don't post your deepest secrets. But thats my opinion. And if you just have too, get a journal, not a blog.
a new kind of intimacy, a sense that they are known and listened to. This is their life, for anyone to read. As long as their parents don’t find out.Wow. I guess I just defy all of the laws of nature. First I'm not supposed to exist. And now I'm not supposed to blog because-Heaven Forbid- my father reads!
And thats another difference between a Journal and a Blog. A Blog wont get you grounded (mostly) if your parents don't like what you write. Why? Because you don't post stuff that you know will get you in trouble! In a blog you use common sense. Generally its known that you don't do certain things, for example, you don't post about a particularly smelly fart, or like I said before, the first time you had sex-the day after! Now the whole sex thing, some people do post it, but generally its not until YEARS later. Not the next day. Granted there are exceptions
On one final note:
To read more of this story, click here.The New Your Times sucks. They shouldn't make you pay for a news article. Not when they already posted a good chunk of it!Story provided courtesy of the New York Times. Copyright © 2004 by New York Times.
So anyway. That article has me kinda mad, but its Okay. I just hope, the author of that article learns that there IS a difference between a blog and a journal. Either that or I'm overacting. < mocking > But thats Okay. I'm a teenager! < /mocking of psychiatrists>
This was a school paper, I got A's all across the rubric. If you haven't read either/both works you might want to skip this essay. I'm putting it in the extended. And you aren't getting the original. I'm correcting what the teacher said needed correcting. For example I didn't know that Holocaust needed to be capitalized. He he.
The World Wars were a period full of horrible acts. World War I was the first with trench warfare; hundreds of thousands died from disease and dysentery,no just battle. In WWI, the Germans first showed their skill at propaganda. In the following war, World War II, there was the Holocaust, an attempt by the German Nazis to commit genocide of the Jews. The holocaust was an attempt by Adolf Hitler to exterminate all Jews; Hilter placed millions of Jews in concentration camps, and killed millions. Many have documented the atrocities of both wars, but none as brilliantly as two men have: Elie Wiesel and Enrich Remarque. These men wrote about the wars in a very descriptive manner that could not help but open the eyes of the world. Wiesel wrote his own memoir, Night, about his time int he concentration camps, and Remarque wrote a historical fiction, All Quiet on the Western Front, about life int eh German trenches, based on his own experiences as a solider. By documenting the wars, both Wiesel and Remarque are able to illustrate, by usage of strong diction the reduction of humanity to mere animals.
In the novel Night Elie Wiesel tells his own story about the Holocaust. Wiesel talks about the loss of his father, his faith, and his innocence. During his experiences he and the other prisoners are consistently faced with attempts to strip them of their humanity and reduce them to mere animals with primitive wants and instincts. Wiesel portrays this dehumanization with his diction such as “Men threw themselves on top of each other, stamping each other, tearing each other, biting each other. Wild beasts of prey, with animal hatred in their eyes; sharpening their teeth and nails” (95). The level of dehumanization these victims face is appalling. At times they fight to the death for mere crumbs of bread. Elie survived the Holocaust; at the expense of his faith and temporarily, his humanity. During the Holocaust, the main goal of the Nazis, beyond exterminating the Jews, was to dehumanize them with the wide spread usage of propaganda. The Germans, in general, were masters of propaganda and used it at every turn; attempting to make the Jews themselves believe their own “impurity”. As Wiesel depicts in his memoir, the Nazis often load the Jew on cattle cars for transport, all the while insulting them, calling them swine, or pigs, and beating them.
All Quiet on the Western Front is placed in World War I, and features a fictional character named Paul Baumer. Paul has become a member of the ‘Iron Youth’ and he, like a Elie, has lost his innocence. Often during highly periods of the novel, there is an increase usage of animalistic diction such as “With one lunge, I shoot as flat as a fish over the ground; there…I crouch… I claw… I groan… I creep…” (Remarque 67). This use of diction emphasizes the horror of war, and the reduction of man’s humanity towards each other when placed in a highly stressful situation. Another such example of animal behavior is when the men “reach the zone where the front begins and become on the instant human animal.” (Remarque 56). The extended use of animalistic phrases creates a mood that forces the reader to feel some guilt about human kind and its actions.
As both novels progress Elie and Paul are forced to become more distant from their fellow beings. With Elie, it became apparent after the death of his father, and with Paul, the death of his companions. These deaths created a cataclysm that was the final point for the characters, where they reached their lowest point. Once at such a low point, it was extremely hard for the characters to continue, often just living because of instinct, not thought. Paul and Elie’s ability to act like animals often saves both numerous times. It often saves Paul because it allows him to dodge bullets and shells without consciously recognizing that they are coming toward him. The ability saves Elie when he is on the 42 mile run; Elie is not consciously aware ofhis body, and allows instinct to take him over. If Elie had been aware of his pain and how tired he was, then Elie would have been just another Jewish corpse on the side of the road whose only use would be as a road marker to lead the Allied forces to the Nazis.
Wiesel and Remarque used specific diction to portray the dehumanization of humans to the point where they were animals. The authors wrote their novels informally, making it intellectually at least, an easy read. By writing in common language the authors were able to pass along their ideas and theme’s to everyone, not just the well educated. The main characters in the novels, Elie and Paul, are in different wars, but both have to face highly emotional experiences and go through intense emotional trauma. Another similar aspect of the two characters is that they are only boys, both of which are very young, Elie only 15, and Paul barely 20.The two characters are similar in their struggle for survival; the biggest difference being that Paul dies, while Elie lives. Both men also must face horrible situations where their will and strength are tested, almost to the breaking point. The way Elie and Remarque illustrate war in the novels Night and All Quiet on the Western Front make it impossible for the horrors to be lost, or dismissed. These two authors have proved to mankind, that war is not glorious, happy, or romantic, it is not, not in the least.
And want to know how I know? Simple, only Bill and one other can write truly tactless and disgusting stuff. And for some reason they both like to discuss bodily functions and illnesses. Heres a sample of the next Bill
be it for a few stitches or treatment of anal warts and raging herpes you have to flip the charts overFor the full text of the passage, which was left as a comment, go here.
So now all Andy has to do to truly become a Mini-Bill is get off of the stupid LiveJournal server onto some place decent. Even Blog*Spot is better then Live Journal.
So yesterday I mentioned that I was toying with the idea of setting up a little (or not so little) blog meet. And I started to serious think about it, and I realized that if this is gonna happen, and if I'm gonna organize it (because it is my idea, can't really pawn it off) then I gotta make some choices and decisions. So heres the list of things (so far) to figure out.
When?So as you can see, there is much to figure out. Oh boy...
Where?
Who?
How many?
Family event?
Bloggers only?
Kids welcome?
Kids not welcome?
Alcohol?
No alcohol?
Where to get money?
Where to get food?
Actually organize stuff to do?
Just go with flow?
Will I be the only kid!?
Of getting some the DC/Northern VA/Maryland Bloggers together at some point. Or everyone.
While everyone would be nice, it could be pricey. Cause I don't imagine plane tickets from Hong Kong, or Australia, or Sweden would be very cheep. And thats what I'm all about. Cheapness.
I've already found out from Dad that when we go to visit my bro in Connecticut, we're going to visit Tunning Spork and StMack. Yea!
But I'm thinking of something kinda small, a few people, like me for instance. And Tink, Silverblue, PoloRandy, Roxette, Kevin, Nic, Victor... and I'm sure I'm forgetting someone. Make it small like. Ya know?
And if I had a time frame, I'd say Spring Break would be a good time (Easter-ish) because thats when I don't have school. So yeah. If I'm not totaly insane, tell me, because I think its a good idea.
Is a privacy agreement required by the national Government to be signed by all patients/clients of Doctor Offices, Hospitals, Pharmacys, and numerous other places.
HIPAA is a pain in my @$$.
Not because I don't think its a great idea. But because it forces me to do extra paperwork, which is just badness.
So if you haven't noticed I work in a Doctors office, an Eye Doctor to be percise. And that was where I was yesterday when Dad met Silverblue, Roxette Bunny, Tink, and PoloRandy. I was so mad when I found out I couldn't go because of work. Gah! Oh well. I'll just have to make them come up to woodbridge again... Or wait... If we go to States for the One Act (cross your fingers) I think its in the same general area. I'll find out tomorow.
My mom's (A) computer runs on ME.
Dad's computer (B) runs on ME.
Mine(C) is XP.
My sisters/extra (D) computer is on '95.
How do I get them to get along? D can read and gets along with A, B, and C. B and C get along. A hates everyone but D. A also has the printer and can acess files on B and C but B and C can't acess the printer or files on A. How do I fix it?
And so I return to my blog when a sparkle in my eye and much joy.
Now as soon as I finish barfing over that last sentence I'm gonna post mucho.
That I should let you know that I'm being grounded from the internet. What exactly does that mean? It means don't waste time coming to my blog for at least a week because there wont be anything new. Actually I might post on during the week if I can manage to get to the school library. But thats a slim chance because going to the library entails skipping lunch, which I'm lothe to do because thats my socializing time, or going before school which is unlikely because my bus driver doesn't believe in punctuality. So Ta Ta For Now. Hopefully I'll be back.
Done. On time too. Woot. So tell me what you think of the changes. I'm curious.
Until the new template is installed. How much of my To-Do list do I have done? All of it.
But I have excuses! And they include: Homework, Exam Review, Drama, and mucho other things. But Ready or not, tomorrow is the day of reckoning.
Dad linked to a test he found on TwoDragons, he only got the 2nd layer of hell. *Laughs nervously* Guess what level I'm at? Better yet, I'll show you.
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Low |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | High |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | High |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Very High |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | High |
| Level 7 (Violent) | Very High |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Very High |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | Moderate |
So after many days wading through the thick muck that is my template, I have recreated and redesigned it. It will have a vast difference in appearance. Now as that I have worked so hard to redo it, I decided that it will be transphered on Friday (I'm building suspense here).
Here's my final checklist before Friday:
1. Save old template.Thats the plan. Thats what I have left. Will it happen? I know not. But I hope.
2. Finish updating blogroll on new template.
3. Finish tweaking it.
4. Come up with snazzy tagline.
5. Actually become motivated and stick to time schedual.
Its on Febuary 3rd, and yes, yours truely will be in it. So should you come? Absolutly! Its going to be fun, its free, and its at 7:00. There will be not 1, not 2, BUT THREE FOUR Schools competing. My school, and our three biggest rivals- Hilton, Woodbridge, and Forest Park.
If your interested in coming, email me at mookie_riffic -at- yahoo-dot-com for directions (Put '1act' in the subject please). And once again, and I must say that our show is called the "Complete History Of America, Abridged, Part One", and if you don't mind my boasting, we kick major ass.
I'm done bragging now. But seriously, you should come to the show, and pass the word around to bloggers.
UPDATE: Yes there are Four. Not three. And people wonder why I have a C+ in math.
Why must every teacher give out exam review packets on the same day, AND insist that their exam should take precedence over all others? Is it all a conspiracy? Because it sure seems that way.
Also, today in English I was so pissed. Me and another kid, Jason, always play cards after we finish our work, the teacher doesn't mind, she'd rather us do that then be a nuisance. So it got to be a habit. Today we had a substitute, so when we finished our work, I pulled out the cards because it was my week to supply them, and I started dealing for Rummy. The Sub Went OFF! She yelled at us non-stop for 5 minutes about why we weren't allowed. We couldn't even get a work in edge wise. Oh I was seething, but I bit my tongue. You should be proud of me.
I'm preparing for the change. On Friday the 16th Mookie Riffic will have a new look. Be prepared! Be warned! Be happy?
And don't let me forget about it.
I'm just testing a trackback... Trying to see if I got the code right on my lab.... nothing here to see. Move along now.
UPDATE: The test failed. *Kicks machine and yells at pain in foot*
UPDATE FOR THE UPDATE: The test did work. I just for got to mark the box that says "Accept Pings".
Surprising how little effort it takes to mess up my template. *sighs*
A new letter is periodically sent home to all parents. The winter newsletter was classic. The opening message from the principal was about the renovations that the school is going through. Currently they are closing off all the class rooms (we used to have open-no doors or walls). And its still in the process. Here is the portion that makes me mad:
"...currently being renovated is the Language Arts Department. The students in those classes will be meeting in the 'luxury suites' situated on our front lawn until the first week in March.Give me a break. The "LUXURY SUITES"? They're TRAILERS. Okay, we have Trailers on our front lawn. Not exactly Luxury. Whats worse is the "Taken it in stride" portion. If we were taking it in stride we wouldn't be calling ourselves Trailer Trash when ever we have to go outside. And might I remind you that its WINTER! Its COLD! There is nothing sweet about the trailers (pardon the pun), and certainly nothing Luxurious.I have been very impressed with the manner in which our students and staff have handled the renovation. They have adapted to life in the 'Luxury suites' and taken the challenges of a major renovation in stride."
Gawd my school sucks.
Mookie asked me to blog, so here I am! I've spent the last few days wondering what to write here. My brain flitted from politics to religion to drugs to death, but none of them seemed quite right. I dumped them all out, and I'm here to blog about love. "What do YOU know about love??" you say. I'm a human being - we are machines built to give love, and therefore are natural experts from birth (some people just get out of practice).
Love is the sun on your back and the stars in the sky; a laugh in the dark or tears in the cinema. Love is a hug from your best friend, a puppy's tongue on your nose, and frost on your eyelashes in winter. Love is seeing your favorite band live or your favorite painting in the museum. Love is a fire in the hearth and a mug of cocoa in your hands; the spray of the sea and the sand under your toes. Love is seeing your family when the war has ended; a newborn child in your arms. Love is a hot sigh in your ear from behind; someone's fingers intertwined in yours. Love is a gun to the temple; a white wedding dress stained wine-red; the silence of your own room. Love is what being human is all about.
To start off, this is going to be my Linking Post. Anyone can be an Honorary Riffic (except for Bill, because he sucks) if they catch my fancy and write something that I think is amazing.
So to start out, let me point out Gday Mate, writen by Ozguru. I'm just calling him Oz because I don't think I can spell his name correctly more then once. But anywho, he has just amazed me (mainly the link's I've been getting. But if I must name a particular post, I'll mention this one. Where he discusses how standards aren't so standard anymore.
Next I would like to introduce Dusting My Brain. I saw Cindy in the comments of the aforementioned Oz. And I said what the hey, she can be a Riffic for a day. (Oh gawd! Shoot me now! I'm Rhyming!)
Next up is DaGoddess who is having problems with her landlord. As she puts it: "I wanna see just how big a dick head he can be." Oh and I love her Tag line.
Just because he posted a cow picture. I present Fragments from Floyd's very own Fragmented Fred-Riffic.
Dustbury, a personal favorite of mine, even though I'm too lazy to move his link up into the Daily Read category.
OkieDokie. What more is there to say?
Whew. Linking gets kind of exhausting. I'll present more Honorary Riffics later.
Back in September, I wrote a post with the same name, about a game we played in class. We played it again. And I freaked one kid out by every time I died, it was just after I shook his hand. He was freaking out majorly. Good.
Say that to a normal kid, and you'll hear screams and protests for the next hour.
Then you have me. He he. When I was writing my two posts on Blogs, here and here, I kept banging my head against the desk for two reasons. First because I wasn't making the sentences Parallel (for example), and they would sound better if they were. And then I banged my head for actually noticing and caring about that.
*grumbles* I know exactly who to blame for this... Bet you thought I'd say my English teacher. But I wont. I just blame the superintendent. Dr. Kelly. I'm going all the way to the top.
Not to mention I'm still mad at Dr. Kelly for making me spill paint all over a finished set piece last year. *Dramatic Sigh*
The victim, Mary Lou York, was murdered in York’s Grocery Store at Hamburg on June 1, 1979. She died from loss of blood as a result of two stab wounds in her neck. Patti Franklin saw her relative Charles Singleton enter York’s Grocery at approximately 7:30 p.m. on the day of the crime. Shortly after he entered Patti heard Mrs. York scream, “Patti go get help, Charles Singleton is killing me.” Patti then ran for help. Another witness, Lenora Howard, observed Singleton exit the store and shortly thereafter witnessed Mary Lou, who was “crying and had blood on her,” come to the front door. 19 year old York, the owner of the store, identified Singleton to responding police officers and doctor shortly before her death.
"York Murderer Dies by Injection; 7th Execution Date is Final for Singleton," By Warren Watkins.
A full moon illuminated the ice-cold prison courtyard as volunteer executioners administered final earthly justice for Charles Singleton, 44, also known as Victor Ra Hakim. Singleton was executed by lethal injection at 8:02 p.m. at the Cummins unit of the Arkansas Department of Corrections Tues., Jan. 6, 24 years after being convicted and sentenced to death by an Ashley County court for the 1979 murder of Mary Lou York in Hamburg.
Singleton's mental health had been an issue over the years, causing some to object to the state putting a arguably insane man to death. A CNN reporter interviewed Singleton a week before his execution and found him to be expectedly paranoid, ranting, and raving. However, the journalist found the murderer easily able to understand that he was about to be put to death for the murder he committed, and thus by the legal standard, sane.
Eighteen witnesses crowded into a tiny observation room for the efficient, clinical event, which took only four minutes. After opening drapes behind heavy glass windows on one side of the room, a warden announced the execution was about to take place and asked Singleton if he had any last words.
Singleton said he had planned to say something, but had written his words down and given them to the warden instead. Afterward, a copy of the letter, which was indecipherable spiritual gibberish, was given to the media.
With his head shaved and head held in a heavy leather strap, Singleton appeared to be ready for surgery. A man in civilian clothes, wearing a headset and speaking into its microphone, stood at the prisoner's head and watched a monitor.
As the intravenous drip began, Singleton released a sudden breath, his chest moved up and down twice, and he quietly stopped breathing. His thumb and middle finger on his right hand were lightly touching, as if he were meditating for peaceful focus, and never released.
Singleton was unbuckled, examined with a stethoscope, and pronounced dead by the Lincoln County coroner at 8:06 p.m.
In the warden's office at the prison, York's son, daughter, nephew, and two granddaughters watched the events on closed-circuit television, but did not appear for the press afterwards. Families of perpetrators, if they show up for the execution, are held at a roadblock a mile from the prison's entrance.
This was the seventh execution date for Singleton. In 1980 he came with 7 days of execution, in 1982 he came within 18 days once and within 3 days on another occasion, within 11 days in 1993, two days in 1998, and six days in 2001. He spent just over 23 years on death row.
Inmates on death row in Arkansas total 39, with 16 white, 22 black, and one Hispanic, all males. Arkansas has executed 194 persons in it history: 134 black males, 57 white males, two Indian males, and one white female. While 173 of those were murderers, 20 were rapists and one was both.
Jeffrey Rosenzweig, Singleton's attorney, said he was "frustrated, disappointed, and saddened" by the execution. His client was "rational, sane, and at peace," he said.
Karl Roberts, convicted of the kidnapping-murder of his 12-year-old niece, was scheduled to be executed after Singleton. But he won a last-minute stay of execution pending an appeal.
I've been having a very exhausting couple of days when it comes to relationships, so I'm stashing this post in an extended entry. I'd advise for you to skip it, because it will likely make you think this is a journal instead of a blog. Heh.
I met my best friend 11 years ago. And up until recently I thought I knew him better then anyone else. I always figured I could run to him and cry on his shoulder.
I never thought that he would make me cry.
A few months ago MV met a girl in another county, and he started changing. Not for the better. He became moody, and started to be a jerk. He was making a lot of people mad by his attitude and I tried to make excuses for him when I could. Generic stuff like "he hasn't seen his girlfriend lately" or "don't worry, its normal, he gets like this every couple of months, it will pass". Time went on and he didn't snap out of it.
So I emailed him over Winter Break, he was still mad about the hackysack, but I figured I had to at least talk to him before he alienated all his other friends. He was in Texas so I didn't expect a reply for a while. And in the email I mentioned how he never called, and that he should every once in a while. Surprisingly enough, I got a phone call from him. And I asked MV if he got the email, and he said no. He just wanted to know what the schedule was for school, A or B. I told him, and then we started talking and I pretty much said everything to him that i had in the email. I figured it was good, he'd get the message.
Wasn't to be. I got an email one day after school, from a guy, lets call him Steve just for identification purposes. Now Steve went to a different school and I had been talking to him a lot, I had known him a couple years ago, and we had kept up a minimalistic familiarity with each other until a few weeks ago, when we started to get close. He didn't go to my school, and to me that was all the better. It just meant i didn't have put up with the idiocy that always follow when two people date. I kept quite at school. Now Steve emailed me and said some pretty bad things. The gist of it was he didn't want to talk to me anymore and that I didn't mean anything to him. I swallowed my pride, thought to myself, no harm done, not like I told anyone.
Right before i got the email from Steve, MV accused me of falling in love with him. Maybe he was right. I don't know. Did I trust him? Yes. Did I care for him? Yes. Did I enjoy his company? Yes. Did I want him to get hurt? No. Did I want him to be unhappy? No. So I dunno, I did love him. As a friend. As more? I dunno. I told him he was a fool for thinking that, and he should assume things. I said that I wouldn't fall for him because I value our friendship too much. I said a lot of things.
So I told him that, and then I got the email from Steve. I thought long and hard whether or not to tell MV about Steve pretty much dumping me. But I did, against my better judgment. Next day at school, Today, I was at lunch. And MV was complaining about how his parents lectured him about his grades when I said something along the lines of "Yeah well, could have been worse. My parents always tell me that they don't worry about me dating, they probably think I scare off all the guys".
This is when he upset me for the first time. His response to my statement was along the lines of "Of course they needn't worry, all the guys are afraid to come near you for fear of castration. Can't say I blame them."
I was shocked. I didn't know what to do. So I did the first thing that came to my mind, and i didn't even think about it really. I slapped him. Twice. That was the first time I ever really hit someone in anger. Yeah I've hit people before, mainly in joke. But never like that. I felt horrible, I didn't know what to do, so i just left. I grabbed my books and with out another word, I got up, and left.
I went into the hall and played Hackysack with some friends of mine. They just let me play, I guess they saw how upset I was. I never expected them to be so nice, after all they were guys who didn't really know me. I was fine until I got home.
When I got home, I checked my email, went through my normal routine. I had an email from MV, dated in the morning, so I knew he got my message about being dumped. I just could not believe he could say something like that after I was dumped. He got on line, and IMed me. His first words were, and I quote "WTF was that today? explain to me how what i said was in any way offensive?"
I told him, that next time he gets dumped remind me to insult him. He once again responded with "a) how was i suppose to kno u were dumped? b)you are constantly saying shit like "blah blah blah ill castrate you" "dont make me castrate you", f***in hell, i told sarah what happened and she said she wouldve said the same god damn thing as me" He did know. He responded to the email that said it!
He also didn't realize that I didn't tell Sarah that I had been dumped. And that castrating stuff was over a year ago. The convo went on. Increasingly worse, until it ended up with me telling him I wasn't going to talk to him on line. I told him I was sick of arguing and talking about this stuff on line. If he wants to talk he needs to either call me or talk to me to my face. He responded by saying he didn't feel like getting "bitched at" today so he wasn't going to call.
Thats when I logged off and started crying.
I never thought a guy could make me cry. And I never thought he would.
So as one last bit of teenage stupidity, heres the chorus of a song that I like:
I'm alright,
I'm gonna make it,
Even if I have to fake it.
I'm alright,
I'm gonna make it,
Even if I have to break it.
I'm alright.
And here you thought it was over. Anyway, onward. Todays guy is named Ynobe Matthews.
Summary:
21-year-old Carolyn Casey attended a party at her College Station apartment complex. Matthews, who lived in the same complex, also attended the party. Casey and Matthews were acquainted and during the party she gave him a ride to the grocery store to purchase alcohol. After returning to the party Casey became ill and left alone. A few hours later, the fire department responded to a fire call at Casey's apartment. Casey's body was found partially nude and propped against her bed, dead as a result of manual strangulation and a broken a bone in her neck. The apartment had been ransacked and appeared to be a burglary. Forensic testing revealed that fibers similar to the fibers of Matthews clothing were found on Casey's clothing and body. Fibers from Casey's panties were found on Matthew's shirt. Matthews DNA matched fingernail scrapings taken from Casey. Matthews at first denied any involvement, but after being confronted with this evidence, Matthews admitted that he had gotten into a fight with Casey, during which he threw her on the bed and choked her to death. Matthews also admitted starting the fire and ransacking the apartment to make it look like a burglary. All witnesses denied any romantic relationship between Matthews and Casey. DNA evidence obtained after Matthews was arrested for Carolyn's murder connected him to the kidnapping, rape and murder of 21-year-old Jamie Hart, 14 months after her unclothed body was found on a rural road. Matthews pleaded guilty to the 1999 kidnap, rape and murder of Jamie Hart. He was sentenced to life imprisonment for that conviction. He was also linked to at least five other sexual assaults and is considered as a possible serial killer. Matthews waived further appeals.
Final Meal:
Three pieces of fried chicken, one pork chop, two pieces of fried fish, strawberry ice cream, a six-pack of Coke and a pack of Newport cigarettes. Authorities refused the cigarettes because of a "no tobacco policy."
Another question that haunts me during the day light answers, with no real answer. But once again, I shall give it my best shot.
What Is The Difference Between A Blog And A Journal??
The feel of it. The flexibility of it. The mood of it. The sense of personality. The difference is often hard to put into words, but its something that you can immediately tell.
A journal is a place where a person can rant, whine, talk about their weekend, complain about a teacher, gossip about a friend. A journal can be on paper or the net. It can be in a variety of colors, on various servers. Anything from Dead-Journal to Blurty to Live-Journal. There is always a Journal site out there, one that seems made just for you.
A blog is all that a journal is; and so much more. Yes you can rant, whine, complain, gossip, talk, and any other numerous things on a blog, but a blog is just more. A blog can have different moods, different personas. A blog is more of a community thing, everyone forms their own communities on the blogs, whether by accident, or on purpose-as with the Munuvians.
Blogs have a flexibly that you just can't get with a journal. You can find everything from News Sites, to Slice-Of-Life. You find your whiners, and you find the guy that is naturally popular. You have the aspiring writers, and the aspiring web designers. You have real writers and real web designers! You can have ordinary people, and extraordinary people. And all these people can be wrapped up in the same person. All expressed on a blog.
A blog is competitive. Your constantly checking your email, just waiting for that special email from a reader. Your constantly checking your Tracker, to find out if you beat your record of 30 readers a day. You sometimes work hours upon hours on writing the Perfect Post, just to toss it into the Bonfire.
A blog, once again is about the people. A blog is updated constantly, for the positive, and the negative. A journal, for the most part, only highlights the negative. Where a journal is a place to whine and be miserable, a blog is a place to be comforted and supported. A journal is a place for sympathy. A blog is a place for encouragement. A journal is a place to think back in retrospect. A blog is a place for growth and to think forward.
Theres no solid line differentiating between a blog and a journal. But when you go to site, you just Know.
I have been asked this questions many times in class, and most times I don't know what to say. So here goes the best answer I can come up with.
I Blog Because I Can.
No, not really. Actually I have found blogging to be a very useful place where I can rant. I know I don't really rant that often, that’s because I delete the posts because they are too horrid to post and dad would kill me, lol.
I also blog because I can express my thoughts and ideas with helpful criticism from a variety of people. Just look at the MuNuvians for instance, there’s Jen-she’s a history major. And there’s Pixy, who is just wow! A major Computer Geek, meant in the nicest way possible, and one of the kindest people I've ever had the privilege of associating with. There’s Daniel, and Tim, two students in college. Half the time I don't understand Daniel, but I try. And I actually went back and reread his post on Quarks in order to study for a test.
Then there is the lovable Susie, who is just a very sweet person. And Victor, whose girlfriend Nic deserves an Honorable mention. They were so awesome when my mom was in the hospital. And Victor taught me the value of springs. *Grins* Then you have LeeAnn, she always brings a smile to my face and is hilarious.
And there’s a spark of internationalism that I wouldn't get in normal life. From Simon, Helen, and once again-Tim.
And outside of the Munu Crew, you get great people like Tim (Backstage), SilverBlue, Starhawk and Kin.
When it comes to people like this, how can you NOT blog and hope to join the group. All these people are the kindest, and most thoughtful people I know. Now as with any group of humans, there will always be a couple bad apples (Notice my tack in not linking the "Bad Apples" =D), but for the most part, these people are awesome.
Another reason why I love these people, and I blog and read their blogs, is because they accepted me. When you think about it, not many people in the world would let a 15-year-old get away with some of the stuff I say, like my ADHD post, I was sure someone would try to censor me... Oh wait they did, and they looked like a nit wit. These people, accepted me, despite my age. And that means a lot.
When a person finds acceptance like I have, weather on line, or in person, they would be a fool not to rejoice and join in. Hopefully I haven't been too foolish.
So in short. I blog for the people.
The first segment of the New Years adventure is here.
About an hour after the Creepy Lady left, Michelle's phone started ringing. She immediately found it, and answered it. And with in seconds threw it down the hall into the play room.
Blink. Blink. "What was that for!?"
"Oh that was just *Billy, He's an ass."
"oh."
Ring Ring.
We start searching for the phone, luckily the caller was insistent-or they knew Michelle really well. I found the phone. :) and hand it to Michelle "What do you want?" No Hi, not Hey, must be billy. After a few minutes of listening to the one sided conversation she says "Okay" and hangs up. Me Liz and Tegan stare at her waiting for her to speak. She said something along the lines of "He wants to drop by for half an hour, and he's bringing a cute friend, I wouldn't trust his judgment though. It up to you guys." I shrug. Liz doesn't care. Tegan says "Why the hell not."
Half an hour later, the bell rings. Liz opens it, I'm the bathroom, and Tegan is doing her makeup despite us telling her it wasn't necessary. I came out of the bathroom as Liz was coming down the hall and she whispers urgently in my ear "The cute friend is a CHICK!" Liz runs off and leaves me the dreadful task of telling Michelle and Tegan, i slowly went to the bedroom that they're in, and i grab Tegan's eye liner right as she went to grab for it. And upon her quizzical look, i slowly state that the cute friend is a chick. Michelle storms out of the room, and soon drags the guy into another room and they start arguing.
Among the things we overheard clearly from across the hall was "But I thought she was cute" and "Your F***Buddy?!! Thats it, Get out! Get out of this house!"
They left. And we started playing games again. Part Three Tomorrow.
*Billy- I couldn't remember his name.
And I didn't even notice... Wow. So I hit the 6 month mark on the 1st of January, and forgot all about it due to the abnormal consumption of cider (more on that tomorrow) so I shall repost my first post ever, back when it was on blogspot. Here it goes:
First....Those were the good ol' days.
So I got a new Blog. With advice from Annika and my dad. I thank them both a lot. My dad mostly because he told me to Email Annika and ask her what I should use to start with as a host, and he got me into Blogs. So I really owe him, and if you don’t like my blog, don’t go after me, go after him (just kidding).So, I guess you want to know about me huh? Well the basics are I’m 14, female, and I’m alive and kickin'. Now I know you might be thinking something like “14-year-old? Ha! This should be funny but pointless.” That may be true most of the time, but I'm also hoping to make a couple good points, and say some intelligent stuff.
I like to read a lot (much to the horror of most kids my age); I read a lot of fantasy, and whatever dad says to (granted I haven’t gotten to that one he gave me yet... opps). And I'm currently reading several books at the same time, a lot of them on politics (and my mothers response? “don’t discuss politics around me”). So I'm trying to figure out what I believe in, and I doubt I’m ever going to pick either Republican or Democratic, Right or Left, or any other title you want to put on people. But I do want to understand, and comprehend what each side says so I can make a fully informed, intelligent decision. So its likely you're going to read a lot about how stupid I think politics are, or what a moron so-and-so is, and all that happy stuff. And I might use a bit of language that would be considered ‘inappropriate’ for my age (sorry dad), and I apologize here and now, because I'm not going to apologize again. Granted after posting a particularly bad post I may go back after a while and edit the words, but not often.
This blog will probably change frequently, of that have no doubt. But I reckon that after a while I'll get into a pattern, and stop messing with the look of things. But I'll probably still mess with it, because that's what I do (hence the constantly changing floor plan in my room).
Well I'm off to do other stuff, among the things to do is to sleep, after I clear the books off the bed (what to do with them I don’t know! I'll figure it out and tell you tomorrow).
And on one side note, the song “We didn’t start the fire”? I like and find it a bit of a controversy, and I think some one should update it to fit today's political/social structures.
So ‘Hi Ho Hi Ho it’s off to do stuff I go!’
So the New Years party I went to was a blast, and I'm finally recovered enough to discuss it. Heres how it started.
I showed up and was the first one there so i helped Michelle set up, we got out tons of food, set up the stereo/karaoke system, pushed the coffee table to the wall, etc. etc. etc.
Tegan and Liz showed up, and we started to go through Cd's, looked at what every one brought, that type of stuff. Tegan brought Orange Juice for Rebbecca (the chaperon) because Rebbecca was in her room sick-we left her alone all night, i don't think she much cared. And Liz brought a Party Pack with those annoying blower-thingies, confetti, hats, and Leis. So after we were all leid we started to listen to music and play a couple games. During a break from the games, I was sitting in a chair by the door when theres a knock, Tegan and Liz are busy singing Brittany Spears (Gag) and Michelle is in the kitchen putting a pizza in the oven so i just open the door. I'm about to ask who it is when this lady just barges in.
Tegan and Liz stop what their doing, and stared for a second before sitting down. And the lady moves into the room like she owns the house. I go to sit down when she pushes me and sits down instead, I start backing up as I catch a whiff of her, she smells like beer. I'm like dude, not cool.
So the creepy lady is sitting there staring at us when she stands up real quick and says "Do you girls want some food" (very slurred) and we all make polite noises in her direction declining. Michelle comes in and stands there wonder what to do and she goes gets Rebbecca, so while shes dragging Rebbecca out of her bed we're just standing there kinda creeped out. Tegan stands up to go into the kitchen, and i follow, grabbing an empty cup so i look like I'm doing something, and Tegan whispers to me "I want that lady out! Shes scary" to which i never replied because the lady asks Liz what we're doing. Liz can see us talking, and she covers and says were play fighting. The lady comes to the door way and stands there staring.
All of a sudden the lady goes "Stop p**** fighting and fight for real. I'd pay for it." We kinda freak out, but theres no where to go, even Liz starts creeping towards the back bedroom to find whats taking Rebbecca so long. The lady then looks at Tegan and says "you know your really pretty, how old are you?"
Tegan humbly replies "17" and moves so I'm in front of her (I was so mad). And then the lady says "Too bad, your really pretty for 17..." and she comes around to the other side, Tegans trying to turn me so I'm in front of her, but I'm just not going to stand there as a shield, i want that lady out! Finally the lady can see Tegan because i move and pretend to check on the Pizza, and the lady just STARES at Tegan.
FINALLY Rebbecca comes out, she looks like crap, and she talks to the lady for a few minutes before gently pushing her out the door and locking both the regular lock and the dead bolt. Rebbecca then said something unintelligible and dragged herself back to her bed.
So ends the Creepy Lady Story. Next up: Cider Shots.
In theater, one of the most important, and hardest tasks is becoming invisible. During scene changes and backstage you should not be seen. Most of the time you can get away with just black clothes, my favorite techie ever was a bit obsessive. He wore ALL black. He even tried to show me his underwear to prove it. This guy did everything from a black ski mask to black gloves. The pity? The guy did spotlight and no one cares about spot that much. Such a shame too.
Now i have given you a picture of me, (click) in my techie outfit. I've gone ahead and taken several pictures, with me in various stages of Techie-dom, you can figure it out. And one more thing, I generally don't go as observe as the last one.
In 1676 a scientist named Robert Hooke developed a theory, that later became a scientific law. He stated that “The power of any springy body is in the same proportion with the extension.” This is the property of elasticity. Now Hooke’s law was later changed to “The force of any…[etc.]”. because the Power was not right term.
Mathematically speaking, the formula for Hooke’s law is F=ku, where u is the deformation of the elastic body subjected to the force F and k is the spring constant or the ration of the other two variables.
Now as a generic teenager I'm going to twist it:
The commutative property of multiplication states that AB=C is the same as BA=C. This is also true for the above equation. F=ku is the same as F=uk.
The Product of F=uk is Typical Teenage Stupidity.