Today I woke up with a purpose. A purpose in life. I got ready for school with unusual speed and determination. I threw on my clothes, grabbed whatever exercise clothes in reach and ate my breakfast with confidence. All the way to school I reviewed what I had planned to say in my presentation in History class, first period. I was presenting Lucy Stone Blackwell for the Wall of Fame, a place where we (the students) can nominate people in history who've somehow affected America, present them to the class against two other students, and the class then votes for the best person.
Lucy Stone Blackwell one of the first women's rights activist, Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton fallowed her. She was the first women in Massachusetts to graduate from college, Oberlin College. She wore pants in public, wrote the pamphlet "No taxation without Representation" and was a famous public speaker about anti-slavery with William Lloyd Garrison at a time when women were discouraged from public speaking. She was more than 100 years ahead of her time in every way.
Anyway, I was going against two other girls in my class. They shall remain unnamed. Only one of these girls is actually a friend of mine and she was doing MLK. I have rather conflicted feelings about the other girl. In fact I don't like her much at all and wish we didn't have to come into contact as much as we do. We have two classes together, and sadly in history class she sits diagonal from me. She is also happens to be what most people would describe as overly competitive and ambitious to the point of cutthroat. Oh, she covers it up well enough to fool most people quite frequently she lips up here and there. All last week she was asking me questions like "Have yo decided who you're doing yet? Have you made a list of possible candidates? If so, how many? I've narrowed it down to eight. Do yo know anything about The Other Girl's choice?" This made me rather uncomfortable so I didn't really give her anything but she was practically interrogating me almost every day.
My presentation was one of the best oral presentations on Lucy Stone Blackwell in the entire history of oral presentations on women's rights advocates ever given to a Watertown High School AP U.S. history class. However the other two girls had a martyr thing going that eclipsed poor Lucy Stone Blackwell, who had died of natural causes at a ripe age. The Girl-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless did JFK. The Other Girl did Martin Luther King Jr. JFK won the sympathy vote, even though neither of those two, no doubt, heroic men did more for those two girls than Lucy Stone Blackwell did for them and women of the United States of America. JFK and MLK died for the betterment of our country but Lucy dedicated her life to ameliorate the treatment of womankind, to give us equal rights and equal citizenship in the country we live in, and if it weren't for her we wouldn't be where we are today. We have the right to vote, we have the right to get a free high school education, and we can where pants, and this is all because of her, it all started with her.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
I Quit Soccer
This year I am taking all honors and one AP U.S. History class. I was also on the soccer team, whose coach does not seem to understand the demands of a high schooler's life, especially when they are not about soccer. For most of the soccer season up to now, I was wondering if I was going to have to quit soccer. There were several factors that that went into making this decision, one of which was if my schoolwork became too much for me or if my grades went down, and another of which was the behavior of a certain girl, whose in my grade and on the soccer team, towards me. The latter factor ended up deciding the matter.
Yesterday, which was election day, I was innocently finishing up my history test in first period when my teacher gets a phone call and tells me to go down to 222 and see Mrs. DiNardo when I'm done. The period ends, and so I quickly run to my home room to vote for myself (I was running for president, whether I've won or not remains to be seen), then run down to the office. When I'm in Mrs. DiNardo's, she tells me to sit down and that Ms. Nykeil (one of my soccer coaches) will be here any minute to mediate and then calls up a teacher to say another girl can come down now. Of course I'm sitting there wondering what in the world I'm doing there when a mediary meeting is about to take place. Little did I know I was about the have a starring role in this meeting. I inqire as to what exactly is going on and Mrs. Nidardo says, "Oh, well, Ms. Nykeil is trained in mediating and since she is your coach and Caitie's coach and she knows you two, we agreed she would be best to mediate." I say, catching on and sort of starting to freak out deep inside, the kind of freaking out the doesn't really show, "Excuse me? Mediary meeting with Caitie?" The psychotic and conniving girl, with whom I have a long and painful history, and who constantly tries to undermine me? Mrs. NiNardo responds, "Yes, that's going to take place now." I blink. Not only did I not know it was going to take place at all, I was sure that last spring I had made it clear to this woman before me that I did not want a mediary meeting and that it could not possibly fix anything or mend the broken bonds of a friendship that barely existed between that demon in girl form and myself. In the awkward silence that followed, I was suddenly able to comprehend a great deal in a short amount of time. I knew that Caitie was expert at portraying herself as the victim, I knew that this whole thing was some sort of scheme of hers and I knew that I was going to have to do my best to defend myself, prepare for a very unpleasant meeting, which was doubtless going to contain many instances where strong emotions would ruin any sort of organized defense I had. I was in for a rough ride and I was in it alone.
I took a deep breath, pointed to a picture of a toddler girl with angelic golden ringlets and said to Mrs. DiNardo "She is such a cutie." I don't really remember what Mrs. Dinardo's response was but we chatted for a moment or so about her daughters, who are two and four. Then Caitie arrived and a moment later Ms. Nykeil arrived and Mrs. DiNardo had to rush off to a meeting. We started by rearranging the chairs in the office into a sort of obsolete triangle and Ms. Nykeil giving a little, slightly phony speech about how it's important to get along and how she had not been aware of any recent issues between us. Suddenly I brain kicked in and I said, "Neither have I and, actually, I'm sort of wondering why I am even here." And Ms. Nykeil, seeming relieved that one of us had broken the silence, said, "Okay, good, Caitie, would you like to explain?" And so Caitie explained. She explained about how she felt that the "I love Armenians" comment in my speech a few days earlier had been directed at her because when I had said that over the loudspeaker everyone in her English class had turned and looked at her.
This relates to some business last spring in which she had come up to me and another girl and said, "What do Armenians contribute to society? Nothing." and then I had started to defend Armenians, saying a few things about their amazing accomplishments. Then she said rather snidely, "You know, Parisa, you shouldn't force your views on others." And I laughed because she had been the one to come up and ask me a question and then answer it for me and then interrupt me in the middle of me saying my view. Then I laughed a little more because the whole thing was ridiculous, the girl next to me was half Armenian.
Then Caitie went on to say how I had been harassing her and how it had hurt her feelings when I had de-friended her on facebook, which I might point out is avoidance, the opposite of harassment. I was stuck in that damn room for an hour listening to Caitie portray herself as the victim. I missed my entire gym class, I never even saw my teacher. I had to take a french test next and I was almost even late for that.
At the end of the meeting Caitie left first for her class and Mrs. DiNardo came in, looked at me and said, "You look a little blindsided." I replied, "I feel a little blindsided." At that Mrs. Dinardo looked at Ms. Nykeil, who rushed to smooth things over and went on to say how she thought it had been a pretty good meeting as far as mediation goes. As I was written a pass to French, Ms. Nykeil and Mrs. Dinardo explained how things had gotten a little mixed up and Ms. Nykeil had meant to find me before I went down to the office but had gotten caught up with another student. I wasn't really listening by that time. All I wanted to do was get out of that room. I could feel the muscles of my face trying to express exactly what I was feeling, which was not a pleasant emotion. I rushed through the office into the hall thinking, "I am definitely not going to practice today. Maybe not even to the game tomorrow. Actually, it would be convenient not to have to do soccer at all." I met a friend in the hall, everyone was in class now I realized, and she came up to me and said, "Are you all right?" with a concerned expression. It was so nice and kind that I nearly started crying then and there. I told her a little bit about what had just happened and she asked if I needed anything or if I wanted to go get a drink of water. That single act of kindness made everything seem a little worse than I had thought.
I never went to practice that day and when Ms. Nykeil called later that evening I never called her back. My mother called my coach, Marino, to tell her I wouldn't be coming to the game on Saturday and that I wouldn't continue to play soccer this season. Coach Marino tried to talk her out of it and tried to talk to me but my mom wouldn't let her.
Now I'm doing cross crountry. I like the team and the practices don't go too late. Sometimes I sort of miss soccer, and I miss the games we used to play like World Cup. I also miss just playing soccer a lot. I never realized how much I loved that game until I quit. But I made my decision and I won't be going to back, at least not this year.
Yesterday, which was election day, I was innocently finishing up my history test in first period when my teacher gets a phone call and tells me to go down to 222 and see Mrs. DiNardo when I'm done. The period ends, and so I quickly run to my home room to vote for myself (I was running for president, whether I've won or not remains to be seen), then run down to the office. When I'm in Mrs. DiNardo's, she tells me to sit down and that Ms. Nykeil (one of my soccer coaches) will be here any minute to mediate and then calls up a teacher to say another girl can come down now. Of course I'm sitting there wondering what in the world I'm doing there when a mediary meeting is about to take place. Little did I know I was about the have a starring role in this meeting. I inqire as to what exactly is going on and Mrs. Nidardo says, "Oh, well, Ms. Nykeil is trained in mediating and since she is your coach and Caitie's coach and she knows you two, we agreed she would be best to mediate." I say, catching on and sort of starting to freak out deep inside, the kind of freaking out the doesn't really show, "Excuse me? Mediary meeting with Caitie?" The psychotic and conniving girl, with whom I have a long and painful history, and who constantly tries to undermine me? Mrs. NiNardo responds, "Yes, that's going to take place now." I blink. Not only did I not know it was going to take place at all, I was sure that last spring I had made it clear to this woman before me that I did not want a mediary meeting and that it could not possibly fix anything or mend the broken bonds of a friendship that barely existed between that demon in girl form and myself. In the awkward silence that followed, I was suddenly able to comprehend a great deal in a short amount of time. I knew that Caitie was expert at portraying herself as the victim, I knew that this whole thing was some sort of scheme of hers and I knew that I was going to have to do my best to defend myself, prepare for a very unpleasant meeting, which was doubtless going to contain many instances where strong emotions would ruin any sort of organized defense I had. I was in for a rough ride and I was in it alone.
I took a deep breath, pointed to a picture of a toddler girl with angelic golden ringlets and said to Mrs. DiNardo "She is such a cutie." I don't really remember what Mrs. Dinardo's response was but we chatted for a moment or so about her daughters, who are two and four. Then Caitie arrived and a moment later Ms. Nykeil arrived and Mrs. DiNardo had to rush off to a meeting. We started by rearranging the chairs in the office into a sort of obsolete triangle and Ms. Nykeil giving a little, slightly phony speech about how it's important to get along and how she had not been aware of any recent issues between us. Suddenly I brain kicked in and I said, "Neither have I and, actually, I'm sort of wondering why I am even here." And Ms. Nykeil, seeming relieved that one of us had broken the silence, said, "Okay, good, Caitie, would you like to explain?" And so Caitie explained. She explained about how she felt that the "I love Armenians" comment in my speech a few days earlier had been directed at her because when I had said that over the loudspeaker everyone in her English class had turned and looked at her.
This relates to some business last spring in which she had come up to me and another girl and said, "What do Armenians contribute to society? Nothing." and then I had started to defend Armenians, saying a few things about their amazing accomplishments. Then she said rather snidely, "You know, Parisa, you shouldn't force your views on others." And I laughed because she had been the one to come up and ask me a question and then answer it for me and then interrupt me in the middle of me saying my view. Then I laughed a little more because the whole thing was ridiculous, the girl next to me was half Armenian.
Then Caitie went on to say how I had been harassing her and how it had hurt her feelings when I had de-friended her on facebook, which I might point out is avoidance, the opposite of harassment. I was stuck in that damn room for an hour listening to Caitie portray herself as the victim. I missed my entire gym class, I never even saw my teacher. I had to take a french test next and I was almost even late for that.
At the end of the meeting Caitie left first for her class and Mrs. DiNardo came in, looked at me and said, "You look a little blindsided." I replied, "I feel a little blindsided." At that Mrs. Dinardo looked at Ms. Nykeil, who rushed to smooth things over and went on to say how she thought it had been a pretty good meeting as far as mediation goes. As I was written a pass to French, Ms. Nykeil and Mrs. Dinardo explained how things had gotten a little mixed up and Ms. Nykeil had meant to find me before I went down to the office but had gotten caught up with another student. I wasn't really listening by that time. All I wanted to do was get out of that room. I could feel the muscles of my face trying to express exactly what I was feeling, which was not a pleasant emotion. I rushed through the office into the hall thinking, "I am definitely not going to practice today. Maybe not even to the game tomorrow. Actually, it would be convenient not to have to do soccer at all." I met a friend in the hall, everyone was in class now I realized, and she came up to me and said, "Are you all right?" with a concerned expression. It was so nice and kind that I nearly started crying then and there. I told her a little bit about what had just happened and she asked if I needed anything or if I wanted to go get a drink of water. That single act of kindness made everything seem a little worse than I had thought.
I never went to practice that day and when Ms. Nykeil called later that evening I never called her back. My mother called my coach, Marino, to tell her I wouldn't be coming to the game on Saturday and that I wouldn't continue to play soccer this season. Coach Marino tried to talk her out of it and tried to talk to me but my mom wouldn't let her.
Now I'm doing cross crountry. I like the team and the practices don't go too late. Sometimes I sort of miss soccer, and I miss the games we used to play like World Cup. I also miss just playing soccer a lot. I never realized how much I loved that game until I quit. But I made my decision and I won't be going to back, at least not this year.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
My Cousin's Wedding
I recently attended my cousin's wedding on June 27 at the beautifully landscaped Andover Country Club. It was a truly gorgeous affair, with the somewhat rushed ceremony held outside and being threatened with rain. After that we spent the rest of the evening inside the country club and as far as I am aware, it never rained. The food was delicious, but the highlight of the evening was a speech made by the groom's best man and brother. This speech had been fretted over by everyone but the guy who was making it because he had refused to write it down. All the worry was for naught because not only was it one of the funniest and greatest speeches I've ever heard, and this includes the speeches made by professional comedians, but it was also very deep and sweet, it showed how close the brothers were and how happy the best man was for the groom. The closing line of the speech was directed at the bride about her husband and was received with much applause and uproarious amusement: "If, for any reason, you find yourself in a cardboard box at the top of the stairs, he's not going next."
I laughed so hard I cried, as did many others present and in my personal experience, this speech will go down in the history of our witty, dysfunctional, and ADD prone family.
I laughed so hard I cried, as did many others present and in my personal experience, this speech will go down in the history of our witty, dysfunctional, and ADD prone family.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Very Little Loyalty
I cannot help but feel hugely disappointed with this town.
I can't wait until the end of track and I plan to make myself unavailable for the weekend meets. They already take up too much of my time. Winter track ended right when it was supposed to (psychologically) but spring track is overstepping it's boundaries. This week is turning out to be the second week from hell (the first was last month) and I have a million things that I haven't even really started due on Friday. Grandma came from NY to visit during the Mother's day weekend and we shall call that period of time The Ordeal. The Ordeal is self explanatory. But the most tragic of this week is that I failed a math test. I got a 60, which is my lowest grade this year. Luckily I get to retake it, but that's next Monday so it doesn't count for this week. The only thing remotely on the bright side is that I've finished the Count of Monte Christo by Alexander Dumas in 3 days. But it's not really on the bright side at all cause it could account for my 60 in math.
I have been forced to deal with this psychotic bitch, who seems to hate me so much that I star in her random conversations. I'm just trying to get away from her, that's all I want and I've scheduled a meeting with Guidance to see that I'm not in any of her classes or lunches next year. What I've discovered so far is that apparently she says I call her racist every day when really I don't even talk about her and she came up with that word all on her own, so she must feel guilty about something. She also has permission from her mother to punch me, which tells us what kind of family she's from. Now I have long and deep history with her extending to approximately 7 years and I want her out of my life. I have bigger biceps than her and I don't care whose permission I need, if she makes one move towards me, she is going down.
I also hate the officials of this town. Why in the world did they pick THIS time of year to redo the town's roads? Couldn't they have waited until school was over? That seems to make for sense than making hardworking students late for school every day. Speaking of such, it really is a shame I'm one of them, otherwise I would just skip school. Skipping seems to be the answer to all my problems (momentarily). The people who run this frickin' town always seem to take the less sensible way around things thinking it's the easiest and doing thing that we'll all be sorry or the in long run. Like knocking down a perfectly fine old house that is in pristine condition to put up huge townhouses that nobody has the money to live in, while there are abandoned factories with broken in windows and all sorts of bad, unsanitary and illegal things going on inside, just languishing by the river. Also having something like that eyesore is against state and federal laws. But, hey, who really cares about minor things like those anyway.
I'm sorry that I've been ranting like this but quite honestly, I really don't want any feedback. Concerned mothers, friends trying to come up with unhelpful solutions, and people saying "well you really shouldn't blah blah blah" is really not what is going to make me feel better. So don't try. Sometimes it's much easier to rant on and that way I can come up with a solution myself. Now I have to study for a physics test and I've just been called down the the office.
I can't wait until the end of track and I plan to make myself unavailable for the weekend meets. They already take up too much of my time. Winter track ended right when it was supposed to (psychologically) but spring track is overstepping it's boundaries. This week is turning out to be the second week from hell (the first was last month) and I have a million things that I haven't even really started due on Friday. Grandma came from NY to visit during the Mother's day weekend and we shall call that period of time The Ordeal. The Ordeal is self explanatory. But the most tragic of this week is that I failed a math test. I got a 60, which is my lowest grade this year. Luckily I get to retake it, but that's next Monday so it doesn't count for this week. The only thing remotely on the bright side is that I've finished the Count of Monte Christo by Alexander Dumas in 3 days. But it's not really on the bright side at all cause it could account for my 60 in math.
I have been forced to deal with this psychotic bitch, who seems to hate me so much that I star in her random conversations. I'm just trying to get away from her, that's all I want and I've scheduled a meeting with Guidance to see that I'm not in any of her classes or lunches next year. What I've discovered so far is that apparently she says I call her racist every day when really I don't even talk about her and she came up with that word all on her own, so she must feel guilty about something. She also has permission from her mother to punch me, which tells us what kind of family she's from. Now I have long and deep history with her extending to approximately 7 years and I want her out of my life. I have bigger biceps than her and I don't care whose permission I need, if she makes one move towards me, she is going down.
I also hate the officials of this town. Why in the world did they pick THIS time of year to redo the town's roads? Couldn't they have waited until school was over? That seems to make for sense than making hardworking students late for school every day. Speaking of such, it really is a shame I'm one of them, otherwise I would just skip school. Skipping seems to be the answer to all my problems (momentarily). The people who run this frickin' town always seem to take the less sensible way around things thinking it's the easiest and doing thing that we'll all be sorry or the in long run. Like knocking down a perfectly fine old house that is in pristine condition to put up huge townhouses that nobody has the money to live in, while there are abandoned factories with broken in windows and all sorts of bad, unsanitary and illegal things going on inside, just languishing by the river. Also having something like that eyesore is against state and federal laws. But, hey, who really cares about minor things like those anyway.
I'm sorry that I've been ranting like this but quite honestly, I really don't want any feedback. Concerned mothers, friends trying to come up with unhelpful solutions, and people saying "well you really shouldn't blah blah blah" is really not what is going to make me feel better. So don't try. Sometimes it's much easier to rant on and that way I can come up with a solution myself. Now I have to study for a physics test and I've just been called down the the office.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Fight at Lunch
Today during lunch there was a fistfight between two boys, Chris Roche and Ahmed Webe. I am not totally sure what the motives of this fight were, however I was there (the next table over, to be precise) when it happened so I can offer a pretty reliable account of what happened.
There I was around 11:15 in the Cafeteria when I suddenly realized that the second half of my cookie that had been sitting in front of me while I was studying my physics was no longer there. I looked at Hannah on my left, who happened to be chewing something, so I asked rather accusingly "Did you take my cookie?". She looked at me suddenly and there was a short silence that was rather unusual for a high school cafeteria and which abruptly ended when a chair about ten feet away hit the floor with a crack. I looked over Hannah's shoulder to see Ahmed and Chris standing up face to face, and Hannah was just turning around when suddenly both boys starting going at each other. It was impossible to tell who had thrown the first punch but they were quickly on the floor rolling around, Ahmed's friend yelling at them to stop. Furniture was quickly pushed away by the boys' struggles on the floor, and I had never seen Mairian, who was sitting next to Hannah and closest to the boys, move so fast in the entire time I've known her. Mr. Cooke, the gallant English teacher, quickly jumped to the scene trying to force to boys apart and getting punched in the jaw. Tyler, one of Chris' friends, also intervened by grabbing Chris while Mr. Cooke held onto Ahmed. Soon other teachers rushed into the action, although Mr. Cooke and Tyler had handled the worst of it. Meanwhile Chris is on top, punching Ahmed in the shoulder/chest/neck area, who is choking him by the collar of his shirt. Both of their faces are bright red and I was suddenly reminded of the Ancient Greeks and the stories we liked to hear when we were little of knights struggling with great beasts - only I couldn't tell which boy was the knight. All the students in 1st lunch had rushed to the show and my table had front row seats. Finally more authoritative male teachers showed up and wrenched the boys away from each other, Chris' shirt ripping off in the process. Chris then broke free from the restraining hands of the male teachers and went running shirtless up the stairs. When he was halfway up, the cafeteria audience suddenly broke into applause accompanied with shouts of "Bravo!". I've heard that both boys have gotten 3 days' suspension, and that Chris is banned from baseball. A huge mess of crushed popcorn and chips was briefly glimpsed before a horde of tenth grade boys converged on the table where Tyler was sitting. Later that day other boys were congratulating Chris on his Facebook for his triumph.
What had provoked the fight was Chris throwing a bottle cap at Ahmed's head and Ahmed responding "That's not fuckin' funny".
Although the fight was hugely entertaining, the repercussions of said scuffle are, in my view, entirely not worth it. Personally I think our school must have issues with punishment because it seems to me like teachers are afraid to do it and must be pushed to the edge to provoke real consequences. I also think this is caused by the size of our school (not the big) and how rarely someone ever does something very serious (rare = once a month/less).
There I was around 11:15 in the Cafeteria when I suddenly realized that the second half of my cookie that had been sitting in front of me while I was studying my physics was no longer there. I looked at Hannah on my left, who happened to be chewing something, so I asked rather accusingly "Did you take my cookie?". She looked at me suddenly and there was a short silence that was rather unusual for a high school cafeteria and which abruptly ended when a chair about ten feet away hit the floor with a crack. I looked over Hannah's shoulder to see Ahmed and Chris standing up face to face, and Hannah was just turning around when suddenly both boys starting going at each other. It was impossible to tell who had thrown the first punch but they were quickly on the floor rolling around, Ahmed's friend yelling at them to stop. Furniture was quickly pushed away by the boys' struggles on the floor, and I had never seen Mairian, who was sitting next to Hannah and closest to the boys, move so fast in the entire time I've known her. Mr. Cooke, the gallant English teacher, quickly jumped to the scene trying to force to boys apart and getting punched in the jaw. Tyler, one of Chris' friends, also intervened by grabbing Chris while Mr. Cooke held onto Ahmed. Soon other teachers rushed into the action, although Mr. Cooke and Tyler had handled the worst of it. Meanwhile Chris is on top, punching Ahmed in the shoulder/chest/neck area, who is choking him by the collar of his shirt. Both of their faces are bright red and I was suddenly reminded of the Ancient Greeks and the stories we liked to hear when we were little of knights struggling with great beasts - only I couldn't tell which boy was the knight. All the students in 1st lunch had rushed to the show and my table had front row seats. Finally more authoritative male teachers showed up and wrenched the boys away from each other, Chris' shirt ripping off in the process. Chris then broke free from the restraining hands of the male teachers and went running shirtless up the stairs. When he was halfway up, the cafeteria audience suddenly broke into applause accompanied with shouts of "Bravo!". I've heard that both boys have gotten 3 days' suspension, and that Chris is banned from baseball. A huge mess of crushed popcorn and chips was briefly glimpsed before a horde of tenth grade boys converged on the table where Tyler was sitting. Later that day other boys were congratulating Chris on his Facebook for his triumph.
What had provoked the fight was Chris throwing a bottle cap at Ahmed's head and Ahmed responding "That's not fuckin' funny".
Although the fight was hugely entertaining, the repercussions of said scuffle are, in my view, entirely not worth it. Personally I think our school must have issues with punishment because it seems to me like teachers are afraid to do it and must be pushed to the edge to provoke real consequences. I also think this is caused by the size of our school (not the big) and how rarely someone ever does something very serious (rare = once a month/less).
Monday, March 16, 2009
Track Banquet: A Review
Last Friday was the Winter Track Banquet, a horribly unorganized affair where half the people came late because of misleading schedules. On the official invitation that was handed out to everybody around a week beforehand, it was clearly stated that the Banquet would start at 6:00 pm. This was not so. Not only did the Banquet start at 5:00, that was not told to around half of the track population, who walked in at 6:00 during the presentations very confused and hungry. Another ill planned aspect of the Banquet was the fact that they ran out of food for the people who were there. Weak with hunger, frustrated, and extremely disappointed at 6:00 to the surprise of the not late people and the coaches, the late people who thought they were on time walked in to the High School's cafeteria, among which I was present, expecting food a mingling only to be sadly disappointed. I had made a track slide show of pictures taken throughout the season, mostly by me. I got nothing to eat but a tiny half-cooked brownie and all I was there for was to have a varsity certificate thrust in my face and then my slide show, which I manned because it was really a Powerpoint (I have very limited technology at my house). Because I was handling the Powerpoint/slideshow I didn't even get to have the dessert. I was forced to squat in front of the laptop ( the person behind me couldn't see ) hungry and harangued while I thought over why a Certain Girl who shall remain unnamed had gotten an award and the people who in my personal and observent opinion deserved one. Everybody really did appreciate my slideshow though. However the night was not meant to end well and the sweatshirts that we ordered at the beginning of January and payed 30 dollars for were Men's which is a problem really because we happen to be a Girl's track team. You'd think maybe someone might notice a huge extra large sweatshirt with a name like "Sally" embroidered on the arm. I think we should hold another, different Banquet where we hand ot our own awards to those whom we see fit to get an award. Over the matter of the Banquet I am deeply let-down. That's all for now, I have to get back to my class.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Winter Track
It's been a great season this year
However it ended at the right time.
I shan't shed a tear
For those friends of mine
Because I made them special with more care
and awareness then I ever had before.
With the other teams it was quite a different affair
Until I decided I couldn't stand it any more.
That other team will be mad when they discover
My choice to go my own way,
Stick up for myself and fallow no other
"That bitch, traitor, she wasn't even that good anyway" they'll say.
But because they have never taken the time
To know what I'm like, they will be awed
To find what they think doesn't matter a dime.
I am original and and they are fraud.
This isn't very good, but I had the strange urge to create something and it was either this or re-styling my clothes, which is dangerous and irreversable.
However it ended at the right time.
I shan't shed a tear
For those friends of mine
Because I made them special with more care
and awareness then I ever had before.
With the other teams it was quite a different affair
Until I decided I couldn't stand it any more.
That other team will be mad when they discover
My choice to go my own way,
Stick up for myself and fallow no other
"That bitch, traitor, she wasn't even that good anyway" they'll say.
But because they have never taken the time
To know what I'm like, they will be awed
To find what they think doesn't matter a dime.
I am original and and they are fraud.
This isn't very good, but I had the strange urge to create something and it was either this or re-styling my clothes, which is dangerous and irreversable.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Love Sonnet
I think that I shall never see a star,
As bright and shining as your love for me.
To embrace a star is to reach too far.
It would be farther than across the sea.
On the phone I did not mean to be curt
But I was distracted by my cat
Who was busy attacking my best shirt.
And after that she destroyed the mat.
Now I feel horrid about what I said.
I did not mean it to come out that way
And I can not get you out of my head.
I couldn’t come up with anything to say.
I wrote this poem to apologize
And tomorrow I will buy you French fries.
(or)
And I promise you I tell you no lies
I wrote this poem to apologize.
I like...
Skiing with friends, skipping to the ends, sledding down hills, visiting mills, avoiding mice, eating ice, not getting lice, rolling dice, breathing right, running at night, water fights, christmas tree lights, seeing sites, flying kites, going to the ocean, staying in motion, rock songs, ping pong, catching frogs, chopping logs, campfires, funny fliers, not sighers, lemon cream pie, brooms that fly, not sneezing or wheezing, being lazy and/or crazy, swimming in lakes, eating cakes, milkshakes, not toochaches, finishing first, not being the worst, not dying of thirst, not being cursed, things on sale, getting things in the mail, not having a tail, not eating things that are stale, Harry Potter, being a daughter, not leg cramps, loud amps, thinking of more things to like, talking into the mike, riding my bike, planning schemes, daydreams, making up a rhyme, but I'm out of time.
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