Sunday, December 23, 2007

Santa Lives!

Despite all these facts that people have made to convince us that St. Nicholas isn't real, I don't believe them. Santa is real! Santa is anyone who does something kind hearted and selfless, we could all learn a lot from Santa. Some day we might even become him!

1. No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.

2. There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to the Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

3. Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, and assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of his sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course we know to be false but for the purpose of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc.This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4. The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 punds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (refer to point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal load, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

5. 353,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecrafts re-entereing the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy per SECOND, EACH! In short, they will burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create a deafening sonic boom in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousanths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal* forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Harry Potter

I apologize about this blog… Usually in my blogs I try to write something entertaining dramatic and fun to read. This week my mind was totally blank, so I apologize because I am going to write about something unentertaining for a change. I’m going to write about my favorite series and try to convince you that you should read it.

Don’t let this recommendation scare you from reading the rest of this blog; but I think that the Harry Potter books are the greatest books of all time. True they may be long, but if you stop thinking about how long the book is, you might actually enjoy yourself. The first book is okay it has a rather rough start, but then Harry finds out that he’s a wizard then it becomes a fast exciting and descriptive read. He finds out how his parents died, they were murdered! But not by just any normal villain! They were killed by Lord Voldemort, a criminal so cruel that he tried to kill a little one year old baby, Harry Potter! By the end of this book Harry shows how brave he is by overcoming what normal people would fear, and then facing Voldemort himself!
The second one was one of my favorites despite the fact that there are humongous spiders and a horrifying ten foot long snake. And even though everyone hates Harry in this book and thinks that he is Slytherin’s heir, he shows you how hardworking and brave he is by solving the mystery of who’s behind all the attacks and then saving a few people in the process.
The third one is pretty scary it’s not exactly my type of book, but it is still not my least favorite book of the series. It involves a lot of mystery. What was that huge black dog that Harry saw before he got on the night bus? A grim or something worse? Who is this mysterious mass murderer Sirius Black? Why did Mr. Weasley make Harry promise not to be reckless? Why would Sirius Black a complete stranger possibly want to kill Harry?
Who are Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs? In the end all these nagging questions are answered in the most phenomenal and heart pounding way possible. The fourth book was always my favorite, until the seventh book came out of course.
The fourth book is about a competition held at Hogwarts. Harry mysteriously ends up competing in the tournament. He has tons of luck, but it wasn’t just skill that helped him survive. The competition is rigged! But not by someone that would truly want to help Harry!
The fifth one… I won’t even go there. That might have been the most boring and negative book that I’ve ever read. No offense Panda Girl! After Voldemort gained his body back the link between Harry and Voldemort is stronger than ever. Harry used to feel a little twinge of pain whenever Voldemort was close, now he can have visions from inside Voldemort’s head! But of course Voldemort isn’t a very happy villain; every angry hatred filled emotion that Voldemort feels affects Harry’s attitude and mood. He becomes moody and unreasonable; he also yells a lot and disrespects his own friends.
The sixth one is a lot better then the fifth. Voldemort realizes how dangerous the link between him and Harry is, so he backs off a little. In the sixth book Harry learns about something called a Horcrux. It is one of the most terrible things in wizarding history. So terrible that all literature about the subject was removed from Hogwarts School, that gave Hermione a rough time! A horcrux can be made with dark magic when a witch or wizard kills someone. After they kill someone they can rip part of their soul off and put it in something. Thus if someone does the killing curse on you, you can’t really die. That explains why Voldemort didn’t truly die, he made seven horcruxes! In the end of the book Harry and Dumbledore set off to find one of Voldemort’s horcruxes and destroy it.
The seventh book is the absolutely most amazing book that I have ever read in my life! If you were patient enough to read over 3,000 pages to get to Harry Potter 7, you will not be disappointed at all! No other book in the series can compare to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, in my opinion anyway. In this book Harry must find all the horcruxes so that he can fulfill his prophecy, “neither can live while the other survives.” In the end Harry or Voldemort must die. Will Harry find the horcruxes in time? Will Ron and Hermione stick with him to the end? Can Harry possibly dream of killing someone so evil and cold hearted as Lord Voldemort himself? Read it and you’ll see how good the series is, you won’t regret it!

Sunday, December 2, 2007

That's the Christmas spirit!!!

In the next few blogs I will tell you about some cute Christmas stories that have happened in my family. Each involves a Santa like figure.

One day my little brother decided that he wanted to buy Christmas presents for all five people in our family. It was a very nice act, but seven year olds don't make that much money. Even so he was very determined to feel the happiness of giving. So Michael saved up money the whole year so that he could by us Christmas presents. When it finally reached December, my dad took Michael to Sam's Club to buy the gifts. In the process of finding Christmas presents the eleven dollars that my brother had saved fell out of his pocket. A few minutes later my brother reached into his pocket to feel the money that he earned, but there was a problem, it wasn't there! As you can imagine it broke my brother’s heart. All of his money that he had earned all year was gone! Tearfully he tole my dad what had happened. My dad was also heart broken to see his little boy so sad. He took Mike up to the lost and found and told the workers about the money that Mike had lost. The employees spoke on the loud speaker.
" A little boy has lost eleven dollars that he has saved to buy Christmas presents, if anyone sees it please bring it to the lost and found, thank you." I'm sure that there were lots of dishonest people that went looking for the money so that they could put it in their wallets. Most likely the money was found by someone like that, but that's not important to this story. Just as the employee finished his sentence, Santa Clause came jogging towards us. He was probably just an old man trying to earn a little money for the holidays, but he gave up some of his earnings to a little boy that he had never met.
"Here you go little guy, I found your money!" He then handed my brother eleven dollars. My dad felt a lump in his throat.
"Thank you." he whispered.

I don't know if you believe in karma, but I do. That same December we went to Universal Studios for Christmas break. As we were walking towards the entrance, my dad spotted a little bundle of dollar bills wrapped up in a little ribbon. As he looked at that money he had a flash back of when Mike lost his money. That money could belong to a poor little kid like Mike! My dad took the money, and immediately after we entered the park we went to lost and found. Dad told the stunned employee that he had found that roll of money on the street, and thought that it might belong to a little kid. The employee looked at my dad in amazement; his eyes became as round as quarters.
"Sir, I have never seen anyone as honest as you! I must reward you for something as kind hearted as this!" He reached into the shiny cashier box and handed my dad five front of the line passes, one for everyone in my family, valid for the whole day! Kindness is never unrewarded; I love the spirit that Christmas brings!

Santa Is On Vacation

I thought that this would be a funny story since it's nearly Christmas time. I lived in Hawaii for the first four year of my life, and I had some nice warm Christmases there. Lots of little kids were scared of Santa when they were little; personally I was never like that. One day my family went to the beach and low and behold there was a rather plump old guy lying on the beach, I thought that he was Santa. Suddenly I was an extremely excited toddler. I tugged on my parents swimming trunks and exclaimed, "Look, there's Santa!"
"Can I please go talk to him?" I started pleading. The real Santa Clause was the man standing right next to me trying to think of what he could say to discourage his two year old from embarrassing the poor man.
"Honey, Santa is on vacation right now. If you don't disturb him maybe you will get better presents this year!" My big blue eyes scanned the man who looked like Santa one last time and then they dimmed a little.
"Okay." I said in disappointment.

When I think of that story I always laugh. My dad had to be rather quick witted to come up with a story to persuade me not to talk to Santa. Personally I would have had no idea what to say in a situation like that!

Saturday, November 24, 2007

The Holiday Spoiler

You may wonder who the “holiday spoiler” is. Most people would call him Ebenezer Scrooge, but I call him dad. It’s not that my dad is mean around the holidays, but he really knows how to reck a perfectly good holiday, especially for himself.

For the past two years he has made my Thanksgivings very stressful, and when you are stressed on Thanksgiving it is extremely hard to be grateful for all that we’ve been given.

It wasn’t completely my dad’s fault that I had a bad Thanksgiving; it’s all because of a violent sport called “football.”! If you read my past blogs you would know that my dad is a soldier in the National Guard, that makes him really competitive at brutal sports like football. He loves playing dangerous sports! The only problem is that he is not in the best shape in his life, that causes a few complications when he plays sports.

It is a tradition in my family that all of our family including my two grandparents, my cousins, and my aunts and uncles come to our house on Thanksgiving Day. It is also a tradition that while the women cook all the crescent rolls and mouth watering turkeys, that the boys play a game of football in the field next to my house. I am not your typical girl, I don’t like shopping, and I enjoy playing football over cooking meals. You may have noticed that my blog name is “Sporty Girl.” So I am the exception to the “boys play football” tradition, I always play too. Last Thanksgiving I watched in horror as my dad ran down the choppy grass to score a touch down. Why was I watching in horror? Because my dad tore two hamstrings in both of his legs as he was running! He couldn’t ski the whole winter, and he limped for months.

“He learned his lesson that time didn’t he?” No, no, no, no, no! This year was so much worse. My dad almost had a heart attack! He only ran one play, and he couldn’t breathe. He started having chest convulsions and came home quickly. He whipped open the door and shouted my mom’s name. He stumbled onto the couch as my sister ran to his aid. He was cold and sweaty. His red face was contorted with pain.
“Take me to the hospital now!” he gasped when my mom entered the room.
“Okay, okay!” she cried. She ran to her room and grabbed a jacket and started looking for her shoes. I was livid with anger.
“Mom!” I yelled furiously.
“What are you doing?!? You don’t need shoes, take him now! He could die!”
“Chill out!” she snapped. I pestered her to hurry all the way out to the car. Mom made me and Josie stay home. Josie started bawling her head off. You think that my twenty year old sister would be the one to comfort me but she didn’t. Luckily I have read lots of books, I knew that I was supposed to keep my head straight and start comforting my sister. I hugged her and repeated a phrase over and over again.
“It’s going to be fine Josie, you’re okay!” that didn’t help at all. So I tried a new tactic.
“Here lets do something else, to keep your mind off of things.” I pointed to some adds on the counter.
“How about some Christmas shopping?” Shakily she started searching for gifts to give all of her nieces and nephews. But to no avail, she couldn’t see one gift through her sea of tears. I won’t be mentioning religion in any other of my blogs but it feels appropriate to mention now. Josie said
“Let’s pray Jojo.” I couldn’t agree more. Immediately I volunteered to say it, I knew that she couldn’t do it in her current state. I prayed that my dad would be okay and that he could get to the hospital safetly. That was hardly necessary. Within the minute the garage door opened and both my parents entered.
“What?” I gasped in surprise. My parents were arguing.
“Greg, if you think you are going to have a heart attack, you don’t just ignore it!” said my mom.
“I feel better now, the pain has gone away! Don’t worry about me!” Well, I wasn’t relieved to see my parents argue, but I sure was relieved to see them home. My dad asked politely if I would get him a drink of water. When I gave him the glass I sat down next to him. I laughed uneasily,
“Dad, no more football for you, okay?” We all started laughing, then he promised that he wouldn’t play so hard.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

My Favorite Poem

The Man in the Glass
Author: Unknown

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
and the world thinks you king for a day;
just go to the mirror and look at yourself,
and see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father, your mother, your wife,
whose judgement upon you must pass,
but the fellow whose verdict counts most in your life,
is the one staring back in the glass.

You may be lack Jack Horner and chisel a plum,
and think you're a wonderful guy,
but the man in the glass thinks you're only a bum
if you can't look him straight in the eye.

He's the fellow to please, never mind all the rest,
for he's with you clear to the end,
and you've passsed your most dangerous, difficult test
if the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
and get pats on the back as you pass,
but the final reward will be heart ache and tears
if you've cheated the man in the glass.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

First Term Poem

I know that this poem isn't nearly as good as Panda Girl's, but I did pretty well for someone who doesn't usually write poetry. This was the poem that I entered for one of my Honors English assignments last term, enjoy!


Books are the cheapest way to go on vacation;
You meet a new friend every chapter.
On some pages you feel elation,
And at the same time you’re filled with laughter.

Some tales are filled with mystery,
Some are full of adventure,
Lots dive deep into history,
Some only the brave can venture.

Mystery books involve crime
In which the hero must find some clues,
He must solve the riddle in time,
So that the criminal gets accused.

Adventure books start with a quest.
They can take you to a land far away.
I seem to like those books best
Where the hero saves the day.

History is pretty varied.
It could be about Medieval Times,
Or people who have been buried,
Maybe even kings in their primes.

Some books try to scare you,
They make you afraid to sleep,
They have sorcerers in robes of blue,
Who send out monsters to creep.

When you are sad and depressed,
You can quickly distract your mind.
Just find the book you like the best,
And your journey’s not far behind.

The Worst Trip Ever

Generally fellow students who get to know me say that I’m a very attentive, and respectful student. The day I got sent to the principal's office wasn’t just a shock to me, it was a shock to them too.

In seventh grade at my old junior high, everyone was required to take an art class. The only problem with that was that I wasn’t good at art, not good at all. And one day in class my art teacher Mr. Edenor finally got fed up with my work.
“You don’t spend any time on this at all, do you? This looks like a kindergartener’s scribble!” he ranted angrily.
“Mr. Edenor, I always try my best! I put my best effort into this!” I cried in protest.
“Well your best doesn’t cut it this time! Go to the principal’s office, and take your drawing with you! I’m calling your dad!” I was so numb with horror that I didn’t even protest. Quickly I walked to the office trying my hardest to prevent the tears that I knew were coming. When I opened the huge double doors to the office I walked straight to the secretary. Feebly I whimpered
“I was sent to the principal’s office…” Her smile turned into a frown, and she scrutinized me like I was a dangerous criminal.
“It’s right in there.” She said, sounding disgusted. It was the hardest struggle of my life to keep that frog welling up in my throat from leaping out. The nice secretary whom I had always liked thought that I was a bad person! I must be a bad person! Slowly and ever so reluctantly, I opened his door. He looked up as I approached. Doctor Koldah looked surprised to see me, and then his eyes scanned my face, searching for an answer as to why I was there.
“Sit down, sit down.” He beckoned for me to sit in a big maroon chair. Nervously I obliged. I tried to speak but nothing would come out.
“So why were you sent here?” he said apparently unable to guess.
“Mr. Edeneor sent me.” I squeaked. He just stared waiting for more information. Anxiously I took a few breaths and then continued.
"He didn’t like my artwork, so he sent me to your office.” Now my voice was shaking.
"That’s all?” he casually demanded.
"I promise that that is the only reason. I had an H in his class last term! I have never disrupted his class!” Doctor Koldah twiddled his thumbs and thought for a moment.
"That is extremely odd. I am sorry he sent you to the office, because apparently you shouldn’t be here. Most schools don’t make you take art. Obviously Mr. Edenor is taking his job a little too seriously. I hope that you haven’t been too offended.”
"I’m sorry Doctor Koldah, but it is impossible not to be... I have always tried my best at this school, and this is what I get for it.” Sadly I buried my face in my hands. Just then my dad entered the room, he was pale with anger. Quickly I wiped my eyes and sat up straight.
"Good evening Doctor Koldah, and what brings me here today?”
"A very bad mistake made by an art teacher, Mr. Edenor.”
"What did she do?” He questioned sounding more calm then he looked.
"She drew this picture.” Doctor Koldah showed my dad the picture of a house that had taken me hours to draw. My dad’s eyes became as round as quarters,
"That’s wonderful! When did you draw that Jojo?”
"Yesterday!” I sobbed miserably
"And he gave me an F on it!” I added my voice raising an octave.
"Doctor Koldah, I was called from work to look at this drawing that Mr. Edenor graded horribly? What's wrong with it? Is it just not Picasso enough? Jojo is just a seventh grader, what does he expect?” said my dad angrily
"I agree with you completely Mr. Snicktaw, I feel very embarrassed about this incident. Jojo, do you mind if I teach you how to draw this better?” Shakily I nodded.

Then Doctor Koldah spent an hour of his time teaching me how to draw a complicated but good picture of a house. Later I was allowed to redo the assignment which somehow earned an A. It was barely different from the one I got an F on! Getting sent to the principal's office is not fun!

Friday, October 26, 2007

The New Girl

It’s pretty hard to go to a new school; I’ve been having a really hard time lately. I just couldn’t believe it when the boundaries changed so that I had to go a new school my ninth grade year! FJH is so different from my old school. The teachers at “the new school” are 100% better, but I’m still an outsider among the students.

Most people at the new school don’t realize that I’m new; because I’m an S.B.O. I get asked about once every week by a curious student “Who are you? How are you an officer?” Patiently I’ve explained about 1000 times, but my patience is wearing thin. So here’s the story for all of those that don’t understand.

I wasn’t the only one feeling sorry for myself when the boundaries changed; the school district had a tiny bit of sympathy. We begged the school district,
“Please don’t make us go to a new school, not now!” Their consciences’ got the better of them, so they came up with a plan so that they could feel less guilty. The following week the “new school” sent out a letter telling the ninth graders that one lucky person from our neighborhood would be able to be elected for student government. I argued with myself every day about whether I should try out or not.
“Should I try out?”
“Yes, it will look really good on my college resume!”
“No, no, no, and no! I’m not really popular!”
“But I’ve always been nice to everyone and gone out of my way to talk to people without friends!”
“If I make it would the officers accept me?”
Despite the equal number of pros and cons, I tried out. Much to my surprise I was voted into office by all the kids in my neighborhood.

It’s been fun to be an officer, and I was accepted very quickly. But despite all of this, sometimes I’m really sad. I’ve known all the kids from my old school for five years of elementary and junior high school, sometimes I feel “schoolsick.”

Other than missing all of my cousins and friends, I’ve had other difficulties. I never thought much of the quote “To have a friend, you have to be a friend.” I think of this quote daily now. Most of the friends I now have all became my friends because I plucked up the courage to talk to them.

So what I’m trying to say here fellow Honors English classmates is; don’t ever be scared to talk to me! Because most likely I’m more scared than you!

Tuesday, October 23, 2007


My trip to California was o.k. We spent half of the trip driving there and back. While we were there we went to the San Diego zoo. As you can imagine it was pretty stinky; there were lots of animals! To top it all of it was a scorching 80 degrees! Warm weather probably sounds nice to most of you, but I've always been the winter loving girl.

My favorite animal at the zoo was the gorilla. It looked really mean! So I pointed at the gorilla and laughed "Hey, look! It's Bobo!" My parents stared at me like I was crazy, and that made me blush.

After that we went for a hot air balloon ride. It was really fun! I’ve always wanted to go up in a hot air balloon. We were about 500 ft in the air and we floated in one place the whole time. It was really sunny up there since it was a cloudless day.

After our balloon ride we went to see the lions; the animal I was most excited to see. I’ve loved lions ever since I saw the Lion King; I was about five years old when that came out. When we came to the lion enclosure I was pretty disappointed, there weren’t any actual "lions" in there. There were two lionesses that looked like they could die of old age at any moment. They were just laying there, sleeping during the middle of the day. Right after seeing the sleepy lionesses, my family drove back to the hotel for the last time; we left the next morning.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Where I am

Just in case you wonder where I am the next couple of days, I'll be in California! I'm going to be there until Monday. My family just couldn't wait for UEA! I'll write about my trip when I get home, bye!

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Standing Up Against Bullies

This is a rather embarrassing moment for me, but it has a good moral, always stick up for your friends. I hate it when people pick on people smaller than them, it really sets me off. Because when I was younger I was always the runt of the bunch.

My Dad is in the military, so he has lots of military friends. But one of his friends is special to our family. His name is Charlie, and he is like the Uncle that I never had. He lived right next to us, and his son was like a cousin to me.

Earlier I told you that my dad was in the army. That meant that we had to move around a lot. So after about eight years of being together, our family was separated from the Becks. Fortunately a month later the Becks were forced to move to Colorado, which meant that we were only one state apart. And just like normal families do, they came to visit us every year, and that first year is where our story begins.

When the Becks arrived to our house, they were really tired and hungry. We decided to take them out to eat at McDonald's. I was totally thrilled; I thought play pins and toys were really cool.

We arrived at McDonalds in about ten minutes. Me and my cousin Derek ran for the play pin, and dove into the colorful plastic balls. Little did we know that there was someone else playing there. There were two gigantic, brawny, sixth graders who looked like they would stomp on us.

Big, brawny sixth graders didn't intimidate me, so I just went on playing. But Derek just stood and stared, he was terrified of those scary looking kids.
"What are you staring at?" demanded that fat one with his hat on backwards.
"I was just... um... err....." muttered Derek nervously.
"Get him!" the big kid commanded. Together the two bullies began throwing the plastic balls as hard as they could at Derek's head.

Finally I took notice of the situation. I stood up to my fullest height, which was about three feet. Angrily I put my hands on my hips. Loudly I shrieked in my high, shrill, five year old voice.
"Back off Barbie!" It was like they were struck by lightning. Dumbly they stared at me with their mouths gaping. Their arms froze, and the balls dropped from their hands. Finally after about ten seconds they stirred.
"Let's go!" they cried. And they ran screaming like little girls out of the restaurant.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Did I make that goal?

In case you didn't know, I love playing soccer. I could talk about strategy, passing, and scoring all day long.

Last Saturday I sort of made a funny goal. Our center mid Kelsey passed it to me, but shot too far. I stole the ball from one of the huge defenders. Quickly I ran, dribbled, and dodged up the side. All of this work was almost in vain, I made a rather clumsy shot. The remaining defenders dived in front of the goal, and that was their downfall. The ball crashed into a tiny blonde girl with pigtails, and bounced off of her right into the goal. I felt bad, but I couldn't stop laughing, isn't that terrible?

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Near death experience

Angrily I pounded my fist on my pillow. Usually my sister and I never fought, but today she was being really annoying.
"Jojo, clean up the bathroom!" I winced at her high pitched shrieking voice.
"It's your bathroom too! And all of that stuff is yours!" I retorted angrily. Suddenly I stopped arguing with her. Something nasty was trickling into my open mouth. Hurriedly I wiped my hand across my thin mouth, it was covered in blood. My sister was still yelling furiously at me.
"Josie," I interrupted.
"I think my nose is bleeding!" I said as blood dribbled onto my dark blue Old Navy t-shirt.
"Oh," said Josie all of her frustration draining out of her.
"Pinch your nose Jojo, I'll go get dad." I pinched my nose so tightly that it hurt, but that didn't help my nostrils started pouring blood out of both sides.
"Jojo, Jojo," my dad called.
"Here this will help it stop." he said reassuringly as he pinched my nose for me with a white rag. Being a ten year old I trusted in my dad completely. Grown ups were always right, right? But this time he was wrong. My nose was not going to stop bleeding, I had broken a blood vessel. My precious little time was ticking away as me and my dad sat on the couch trying to get it to stop. If it weren't for my dad I would have started to panic.
"So are you excited to be in the parade today?" he asked me calmly trying to get my injury off of my mind.
"Yeah, but I don't know if I'll be able to walk, dad I'm starting to feel light headed. The blood isn't stopping!" I cried a note of hysteria creeping into my voice.
"Now now, calm down Jojo it's only been twenty minutes. I think that you're right that this is a little more serious than a nose bleed, but don't be scared, I'm going to take you to the hospital."
"Josie!" my dad called commandingly."Take over the pinching job and hop into the car with me, we're taking Jojo to the..." he lowered his voice and whispered in Josie's ear. But having pretty good ears I heard what he said anyway. We were going not just to the hospital, but to the emergency room.
"Am I going to die?" I asked my dad.
"Of course not!" he exclaimed, but he did not smile. The ride to the hospital was all a blur. I remember that my sister was crying, and that she apologized for arguing with me. But the hardest thing about the trip was staying awake. My eyelids felt like they weighed as heavy as hundred pound weights.
"Stay awake!" my sister would constantly beg me. Finally we made it to the hospital, and my dad carried me in. My dad jogged to the front desk carrying me like a rag doll and spoke quietly to the lady who worked there.
"We don't have any rooms open right now, you'll have to wait for ten minutes." said the barbie like lady chewing her bubble gum obnoxiously. And then as an after thought she added.
"You can set her over there for now." she pointed to a big grey table with little wheels on it.
"Thanks." responded my dad. He gently set me on the table, and Josie adjusted the once white rag, it had turned into a nasty shade of maroon.Ten miserable minutes later I was rolled into a perfectly clean emergency room. I wondered what the last person to come through had suffered from. Had they survived? Would I?
"How long has this been bleeding for?" questioned the tired looking doctor.
"About forty five minutes."
"Well well, it looks like we have a broken blood vessel." he started digging through a big white cupboard that would have been a good place to hide if you were playing hide-and go-seek. Carefully he shoved a tiny green bottle up my nose and started squirting a nasty smelling yellow liquid into it. Hey, I could smell something other than blood! The blood finally stopped. And that was the end of the day that I almost died.

A reason to be thankful for parents.

Have you ever stepped in something really gross? Or really sharp? Well one time I almost stepped on something that was a living thing. It's a really squishy animal and it will sting you. Now can you guess what it is?

Last summer I went to Seaside, Oregon to visit my great grandma. As I was running out to jump in the nice cold waves my parents yelled "Watch out for jellyfish!" I paused right as they said that, luckily. My foot stopped inches above the sand and I looked down. Right under my foot was the biggest jellyfish that I had ever seen in my life. Thank goodness that parents are always one step ahead of you.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007


Has there ever been a time in your life where you were totally scared to death? Something life threatening? Or something silly? Well I had a pretty funny experience a couple of years ago. Looking back on it now I laugh at what a coward I was on that warm summer night.

The scariest 24 hours of my life began with a phone call from my cousin Amy.
“Hey Jojo, want to come have a sleepover?”
“Of course I want to have one! You should’ve asked if my mom would let me!” I set the phone on the nightstand and ran to find my dad. Usually I ask my dad for permission to go places because my mom usually says no. So when I found my dad I begged him to let me go to my cousin’s house. Before he really had time to register the question he blurted out
“Yes of course Jojo.”I really have no idea where he got the name “Jojo,” but he’s called me that since I’ve been five. Anyway back to the story.Hastily I snatched some clothes out of my closet and fetched my toothbrush out of my bathroom drawer. You may wonder how a girl packs for a trip in about two minutes, but it’s easy for me. It’s not like I can pack any girlie things like nail polish and hair curlers for when I go to the Rivers’ house. They have seven children in their family, five boys, and two girls. Ally, ( the youngest girl in the family) loves girlie things. If I brought any make up she would put it not only on herself, but on the walls too.

Thirty minutes later I was chillin’ like Bob Dylan at Amy’s house. We decided to watch “The Pink Panther,” a movie that they had just rented. I laughed at some parts, but I still thought that it was pretty tacky. By the time that we were done watching the movie it was about 10:00 so we decided to get ready for bed. That’s when everything went wrong.
“I just thought of the best idea ever!” Amy squealed.
“What?” I yawned loudly.
“I bet it involves our sleeping arrangement.” I added.
“How did you know?” Amy asked.
“I didn’t know. I just guessed.” Amy ignored that last comment and continued.
“It’s really warm outside, why don’t we sleep on the tramp?”
“That is the best idea ever! Let’s go set up our sleeping bags!” I suggested. We skipped outside and laid our matching dark blue sleeping bags on the big black tramp. Then we headed back inside to brush our teeth. On our way to the bathroom Uncle Mike came back home from work. After working till 10:00 at night he was rather bad tempered.
“What are you girls up to?” he snapped.
“We were just setting up our sleeping bags on the tramp,” said Amy innocently.
“You were what?!?” his voice level soared.
“Go bring your sleeping bags in, right now!” he demanded angrily. So grudgingly we went to clean up everything. We walked out the back door and down the creaky old stairs onto the grass. Suddenly something big, black, and furry darted in front of us yowling at the top of its voice. “REEER!”
“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!” screamed my cousin at the top of her lungs. I jumped a foot in the air. And together my cousin and I ran for the tramp shattering the silence of the night. We dived onto the tramp and hid in our sleeping bags.
“What the heck was that thing?!?” panted Amy.
“I think it was a cat.” I laughed uneasily.
“It must have been my neighbor’s cat, Clifford.” She assumed.
“When you screamed I thought you were being murdered.” I said seriously. At that remark we couldn’t help but giggle.
“Let’s go inside.” she suggested.

Don't worry that wasn't the scary part of the story. What I’m about to tell you is something that made shivers run up and down my spine the next morning.

I got up early in the morning and headed groggily to the dining room to see if anyone was eating breakfast. Uncle Mike, Aunt Becki, and Amy were all huddled around the round table. Lexi’s mouth was wide in horror and Aunt Becky’s eyes looked like they would pop out of her head.
“Did you hear what happened last night?” My Uncle questioned me.
“No, I just woke up.” I said, showing my talent for stating the obvious.
“Our neighbors over the fence got robbed last night.”
“What?” I gasped.
“The robber jumped over our fence to escape. They found his foot prints in our garden.” said Amy sounding as scared as I felt. Ever since that day I have been really grateful that my Uncle was so grouchy when he came home from work.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Blog Post #1

Hello World!