Period 1:
Congratulations, I will see you at class night & graduation.
Period 2:
Final Exam
Period 3:
Our Town
Period 5:
Publish or Perish
Anthology editing & Portfolio work
Thought for the day...
Life is like an onion: You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.
— Carl Sandburg
36 comments:
Home, Sick
I’m so bored. Sitting at home, nothing to do at all. Why is there never anything to do when I’m home sick?
Today should be fun and enjoyable, not boring.
I don’t have to be in school, but right about now, I wish I was.
Drumming has lost all fun. I played so much my hands are covered in blisters. I have at least three per finger.
If I didn’t have dial up I would definitely be on there, but no. I have the slowest Internet connection in the world. I would have to find something else to do while I was waiting three hours for a video on You Tube to load.
With all seriousness, I am actually contemplating if I want to read a book or not. Imagine that, me, reading a book, FOR FUN!!! No, I can’t do that. Id rather put my head through a wall than read.
This is my troll lady part to my hometown story....
We also have a “Troll Lady”, she is named for her crippled over hunch walk. She is an old woman, mid seventies, who, in the summer, walks around with shorty-shorts and a tube top. In the winter, her big pale yellow coat hangs over her Sponge Bob pajama covered legs. She wears a pom-pom hat on the top of her old, wrinkly head. The Troll Lady’s favorite thing to do other than get free things would be going to yard sales. When she arrives at the yard sale she walks around looking at every single object that is there. After she looks everything through she starts asking questions about how early the yard sale started and she explains that she was busy feeding her six cats. If she finds something she likes she asks how much it is, if it isn’t in her price range, of a dollar fifty, she gives a sigh and tells a story about how she had just paid her bills so she doesn’t have much money. She tells the owner of the yard sale how she only has a certain amount of money that she can spend per week. After she is done giving excuses to why the object she wants is over priced, she gives the seller the money as she mumbles about how she is going to put it on the side of the road so someone else can put it in his or her own home.
One bright summer day, Kala, Stephanie, and I were walking to the store and passed her. The “Troll Lady” turned around in her pink shorty-shorts and red white and blue striped tube top. All of a sudden she barked at us, like a Great Dane dog. She accused us of stealing her “Chicken Pot Pie”. We looked at each other and started running as fast as we possibly could. It was only about five hundred yards to the Warren Market and there was sure to be someone there that could save us. When I turned around I saw her walking in the opposite direction, headed off to the nearest yard sale.
Broken Dreams, Rising Hopes
By Sarah Padua
"I promise you'll find someone that will be as trusting and caring as you Sierra." The words my best friend had just spoken knocked me back into reality. Making perfect sense and I realized that I was only fifteen and have a whole life ahead of me. There was plenty of time to be in love and have my heart broken later, much later. Right now, I'm a freshman and have a life I want to live, with or without him.
I think I may have posted this before, but I am posting it again.
Huge Cookie
Have you ever dreamed of having a cookie so big you could sit on top of it and see for thousands of miles? How about having one as big as the biggest Ferris wheel in the world? Well, I have seen such a cookie. It is on a new land few have viewed called Cookiapolis.
On Cookiapolis, average size cookies grow on trees that have sprouted from the ground that, of course, are made of cookie. If you are into some less than normal cookies like biscotti cookies, you will have a better chance of finding them by the milk ponds scattered throughout Cookiapolis. Huge cookies like the ones I mentioned earlier are everywhere on Cookiapolis, also. So if you ever need to get away from all the stress of life, just come to Cookiapolis and eat all your troubles away.
Falling
By Lauren Simano
From black to butterscotch do change your eyes,
Dark circles from your sleepless nights do fade.
Turn your eyes on me; I am hypnotized.
The first day you ran; I wish you had stayed.
You became warm to me and spoke my name,
You kept me close but said to stay away.
Your want is less dangerous than your game.
Your voice, like music, takes away the gray.
You showed me who you really are: a man
Of cold stone and diamonds, but you are more
Than I can believe. As I hold you hand,
I trace the stone, and I feel my hear soar.
You close your eyes and I watch the sun shine
Off your skin. You are perfect; you are mine.
This is a newly revised piece from my story Fractured.
My door opened, and I was on the ground. My face felt like I had just been hit by a truck. I stuck out my tongue and licked the blood off my bottom lip. I stuck out my tongue and licked the blood off my bottom lip. It tasted like pennies. I moved slightly and felt the carpet rub against my face. I didn't want to ever get up again, maybe that's what he wanted. He didn't usually hit me that hard. I felt like I was going to sit up and spit out some teeth. Hr didn't usually hit my face. He knew it would leave a bruise and we couldn't let anyone know of the steps we danced. We were the perfect couple, Lila and C.J. They love each other. Whoever said, "Love is pain" didn't know how right they were.
Katie B, your stories about the troll lady are really funny and interesting, especially the one about her yelling at you for stealing her chicken pot pie. You also do a really good job describing her looks. Good job.
who am i? i woke up in a cave that was damp, dark, and cold. i didn't have a clue where i was or who i was. "hello," i shouted, "is anyone here?" the only thing that replied was a drip of a drop coming form the roof of the cave. i tried to run, but it was so dark that i couldn't see a thing. i began to panic and hope that this was all a bad dream and that is would wake up. i ran and ran and couldn't find a way out until a light came out of nowhere at the end the of a tunnel. i ran towards it and thought that this mysterious light would bring me out. i ran toward it as fast as i could, but it only seemed to get farther away from my grasp. then, it came closer to me as i ran. the light was getting bigger and bigger and seemed to get brighter by the second. finally, after what felt like and eternity of running and waiting, we met each other and the light consumed my entire body. what was going to happen next?
Lauren, I really liked your piece. I especially like the part that says You close your eyes and I watch the sun shine off your skin. I think the repetition of the word You makes the poem intense. Good job.
Sarah,
How wonderful your story will be when it is finished. I think this is totally true. I think that high schoolers worry about who they are with too much and they all think that they will be together forever. They grow up too fast. I would like to read more of your story. Also I love the title to the story, you should keep it.
Sorry I'm not in today, not feeling all that great. So before I go back to bed and rest. Here's an edited section from The Fallen Angel.
For the first time ever during my time as an assassin, I felt remorse, normally in this situation I would fight her and snap her neck. Now I don’t know what to do I felt ashamed, not because I let this happen, but because she was the first person to dig through my tough mental barrier that I’ve develop during the two years previous. Standing there as she walked closer to me, her face now blood red with anger, she grabs me by the throat and tries to strangle me, but she can’t. She let’s go soon after and goes into the corner and starts to cry over the death of her parents, occasionally screaming. “I’LL KILL YOU.”
This probably would continue for the rest of the night if it weren’t for a faint sound, it was a police siren, I was here for too long, my contact called the police telling the incident. I snap back into my senses somewhat, but not completely as I walk over to the girl, and say, “You need to come with me.”
“Why should I come with you,” she states tears rolling down her red face. “You killed my family, you’ll probably kill me.”
“I have no time for this,” I state getting out my Jericho again. “Come now or I’ll shoot. Something of which I’d rather not do.”
“So you’re saving me because I did something to you,” she asked. I hate her so far she has been able to read me like an open book and tell of my motives. “YOU KILL MY MOTHER, YOU KILLED MY FATHER, YOU EFFECTIVELY ENDED MY LIFE. WHY SHOULD I NOT JUST DIE HERE AND SEE MY PARENTS IN THE AFTERLIFE.”
“What is the afterlife,” I ask her solemnly putting back my pistol. “Do you know what it is.”
“No.”
“Do you know that you will see your parents again when you die.”
“No.”
“Then why not come with me and continuing living a life that you know quite fully, instead of going into an unknown afterlife.”
“Ann,” she began after thinking long and hard about it. She got up and walked to the door. “That’s my name, Ann Nadeen Nairne.”
“The name is Spike,” I state tucking her name and motive for why she’s coming in the back of my mind. “Let’s get going, my contact just called the cops to complete the job.”
Dylan, I like your take on being home sick. I feel the same. I was thinking as I read your piece that it would really stink if I didn't have high speed internet. :] I think that the best part is when you talk about contemplating reading a book for fun.
This is part of my portfolio. It would be nice to know were I changed from past to present so I can go back and fix it.
Even though I couldn’t participate in track I still went to every practice. I helped the managers and took attendance. I loved watching Ben improve on every event he did.
Ben was driving me home one day after track practice. "I miss being out on the track field and running with the team. Honestly, I don't know if I can take this stupid leg injury anymore!"
"Riley, relax, it's not like you could've done anything to prevent the injury. The only person that could have prevented a fall like that is Superman, and he doesn't exist."
Ben was right. “But still, I have to run Ben. It’s a part of me! It’s my second nature!”
“I know how you feel. I felt the same way back in soccer season.”
"Yeah, but you were only out for two weeks. I'm out for the rest of the season!"
We’ve reached my house. Ben hopped out of his seat and grabbed my school bag and crutches from the back seat. He lifted my bag like it was no problem, even though it weight well over twenty pounds. He walked around to my side of the vehicle and helped me down.
i like your story because you admit all the bad parts in a relationship that you know is going to happen. Good job!
---Sarah
Lauren,
This is the last time I will be able to post a comment on your writing in Mrs Tyler's class. Anyways I think that your poem is amazing. I like how you describe the eyes, very good detail.
Jacob, the cliffhanger at the end of your story really makes me want to know what happens to the guy in the cave. You did a good job keeping my attention on your story.
My mother, age fifty-three was healthy… or so we thought. On April 23, 2008 my mom went to the doctors, to find out why she’s been having massive migraines. Her doctors did tons of tests. But until they got the results back, she had to take special migraine medicine. But it didn’t help. The pain got worse. Not better. Sometimes, the pain was so bad that she would just black out.
By the end of the first week the doctor’s had all her results back. My mother diagnosed with a brain tumor. But the thing was, it wasn’t just one it was actually six. All six tumors were at different stages of development. The doctors said that where the tumors were located, made surgery not optional. They said that it would be deadly.
this be something from my anthology thing, with a little reworking. it might actually end up being more of a 'chapter one' type thing.
As soon as I stepped off the bus, I could tell that this vacation was going to suck royally. Okay, ‘stepped’ was the wrong word to use. Actually, I tripped and landed flat on my face. Quite hard. When the bus drove away, leaving me to pick up my scattered things, I finally looked up, taking in the sleepy, run-down resort town and steely gray sky. Not a decent store in sight. No Barnes & Noble, no rue21, nothing. I’d be surprised if this place had a WalMart.
I looked over my shoulder, tucking my various personal effects into my carry-on bag, and saw the beach. The water looked calm enough, but not terribly inviting: a dull, slate gray that was a dark reflection of the sky washed up onto the muted sand. Sticks and driftwood littered the beach.
Wonderful.
I was to be spending summer vacation-all of it- with my grandma, and my grandma only. No Mom, no Dad, not even my obnoxious younger brother. Just me, alone in this sleepy, backwater town that will no doubt bore me out of my mind inside of ten minutes. I stood, picking up my now gathered belongings, looking around. Where was Grandma? She was supposed to be here, wasn’t she? The senile old lady probably forgot.
I took in the neatly manicured front lawns, tidy houses, and pretty little flower beds, and was hit with two things- one, was a pang of homesickness for my apartment in the city, and two, was the thought that all of the people in this town must be over sixty.
Lovely. Magical. God, I hate life.
Sarah, first of all I’d like to say that I love your title! It is poetic and very real to me. I love the theme of the beginning of your story, and where it seems to be going. I hope that your character finds the strength within herself to move on and find happiness. I love your last two lines, because they are exactly what people have to remind themselves after heartbreak. The very last line speaks to me the most because she is acknowledging the fact that she needs to move on. I like the strength that your character already shows!
Nicole, I like your description of how your character feels like she had just been hit by a truck, but you could put more detail into how this might feel. I don’t know many people who would know what being hit by a truck would feel like, and it would be easier to relate to if you described it. I also like your description of how the blood tasted like pennies, because I’m sure most people know that blood tastes like iron. I also really like the line “…we couldn’t let anyone know of the steps we danced.” It is a great description of how the relationship functions.
i like what happened in your story because i think people can relate. i want to know what happens next. Good job!
---Nicole
Being selfless ad only consumed in love.
Being a wild-child climbing those growing trees, and moss-covered rocks.
Having no worries, only that things won’t go my way.
Snacks and messes covering her from head to toe.
Those giggles and smile, always being “the cute one.”
Running and playing around with daddy.
Getting dirty, making mud pies. Hiding from that baby sitter.
Playing tag with the little sister.
Watching those cartoons on Sunday morning.
Just jumping on beds, and getting in trouble.
Great hot summer days at the playground.
Swimming in the shallow end.
Spending nights at Aunties, and Christmas at Grams.
Playing house, doctor, teacher, and such.
Cart wheels in the grass, and having no concerns.
Being short and having to jump on the counter.
Sneaking the cookie from that jar.
Mommies hug fixing every boo-boo.
Freedom to be who ever you want.
Dreams and wonders of being a big kid.
Being little with those curly q's.
Spitting the medicine out, it tastes bad.
I want this and I want that.
Whining in the grocery stores.
Never seeing mommy or daddies strife.
Sippy cups and plastic plates.
Trying to get into those cupboards today.
Just having fun forever.
Never growing up, just playing all day.
Lauren:
I like your story. The description is great!! i can imagine everything that's going on!
This is the updated version of my poem "Sunset"
The cold, subtle breeze brushes over me,
As I look out from the tall mountain peak
The light breeze against my skin, I feel free.
The beauty of this sight; I can barely speak.
The glare that glistens and reaches my eye,
The sun I see, it gladdens all of me.
I sit here and listen to the birds cry.
Green trees and blue skies are all that I see.
The sun slowly sinks behind the tall trees.
Mixtures of colors flow throughout the skies.
Colors as yellow as the bumble bee's,
Grasping the moment, I won't close my eyes.
I sit here, gazing at the sun's descent
The most beautiful sunset I've seen yet.
Nicole, I like how you described the characters feelings and I liked how you described the taste of the blood.
Justin, I liked how you changed the motive of your character. I liked how he changed his mind about killing the girl. I want to know what is going to happen next!
Kim,
I feel like you need to go into more detail about the mothers sickness, from the beginning, what is she doing when the migraines come, and where is she when they are gone?
Good start!
~Sarah
Nicole, you need to look over your piece because there are some things that you repeated and some typos.
dylan, haha i really liked your writing. i can definitely relate to it since i was just recently out for two day sick, and i was bored out of my mind. the detail in it was pretty good and it all made sense.
Sarah, I love your piece. I can relate, BIG TIME! I like the whole point of it and I definitely want to know more. Like what made her thing that she can make it with or without him.
nicole, i loved your writing. i had a good description about everything the girl did, and it was clear about all the things that were happening in the story. i was really into it and thought it had a lot of feeling.
Brenna:
I like your story. I can imagine her falling flat on her face. I want to know more!!
Lauren I really like your piece, the repetition was really effective.. in a good way. Nice job! (:
Sarah, I like the way that your character came to the realization that every kid needs to when they are in high school.
This is part of my portfolio piece.
I wasn’t at all surprised when she started toppling to the ground. My arms darted out in front of me as she fell forward. I just stood there for a few seconds as I held onto the girl's limp body. Her legs weren’t holding any of her weight; they were slightly bent at the knees and sagging towards the ground showing that she was out cold. I glanced down at her; finally getting a view of her up close. Soft, long hair that felt like warm spring water flowing over my arm. Many shades of luscious brown intertwined with each other in her hair, deep, beautiful dark brown to sunny, golden brown. Her dark eyelashes delicately flared upward towards her brown, lightly sculpted eyebrows. Her light carmine colored lips were slightly parted.
They immediately spurred an existence inside my body. I don’t know what it exactly is. It was as if this feeling started as a small, insignificant spark that suddenly decided to alight itself and roar up into a full wild fire. I feel like for some reason, I can never take my eyes off of her, that I need to stay with her for all eternity, and that, because of her, I can absolutely not go back to my father’s kingdom.
The sudden addiction that I had discovered got a hold of me sparked my soul and my inner inferno began to boil. The liquid fire that was my blood and tears began to churn. I could feel the cold fire starting to drip down my face. As I gazed out at the forest that was surrounding us, i could slightly see the golden lava that slipped from my tear ducts. My tears were not the normal salty, watery tears that these less significant humans shed. Mine were indeed thick, orange fire that was brewed from my very own fiery essence. For I am what many immortals call an Azarian, the people of the Great Fire. The king, my father, has forbade me to return to the kingdom that resides in Mount Saint Hellen. Our kingdoms are located in every single volcano in the world.
Dylan, I can relate to being that bored, because I used to have dial-up, and it was no fun
Nicole, I like the title, because it fits the story, and it's an interesting one.
Lauren, I like your poem. The repeating lines make it really interesting and I can picture the person she is talking about.
Sarah, what you wrote is so true. Being a freshman was a lot like that, thinking about the life in front of you.
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