Monday, December 21, 2009

A Parody Mocking Twilight Fans

Sorry about this blog post, my dear readers, once again I prove how bad I am at poetry! I did this poem in the format of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven," it was required for English.
The second, fourth, fifth, and six lines rhyme, (the other two don't.) I figured that I would have to write about my hatred for Twilight sometime, so enjoy!
If you do like Twilight(like most of my friends,) then I most heartly apologize. Unless you are like the following women mentioned...

Once upon a sullen silence, I sighed, I sighed about the Cullens.
Crazy, dreamy, drowsy fans, oh how it made me sore;
Muscular, masculine vampire men with shiny skin gave me chagrin.
Their paleness, ageless, alter less lives gave me such a bore.
Guys abhor this whole love lore, “where’s Harry Potter?” I implore.
This Twilight book girls opt for.

Meyer’s tale is mildly cheesy; Edward makes love look so easy.
Edward sinuously stalks our dear Miss Swan, which many girls adore.
When suddenly there came a tapping, tapping, tapping on the wide window;
Our happy Edward leaped right in, in black Goth clothes galore.
His ominous outlook, his empty stare; surely he needs a councilor.
Only this and nothing more.

Since when did vampires sparkle in sunlight, why are young werewolves so cute and cuddly?
These addling attempts of harrowing humor make my head too sore.
Rabid fans now buy icepacks, and glitter, Volvos, old trucks, t-shirts and such.
Meyers has made gobs of cash from movies, my mother, and more!
Please stop these callous and crazy cults of women I implore,
No Twilight anymore!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Repel On!

I didn't really call myself brave when I did it. Then again, it's not really one of my habits to brag about myself unless I'm joking.

On Black Friday, me, a few of my cousins, my two uncles, my dad, and my grandpa went repelling and rock climbing. It was really fun! My family thought that I was brave for volunteering to repel down a hundred foot high cliff first, I didn't really think twice about it. It was freezing cold up there in the mountains, and both of my uncles commented on how they could see my goosebumps from ten feet away. Surprisingly, it was a lot less cool when I started going up and down the cliffs with ropes attached to me.

The pictures look really amazing, and you could probably see all of them on facebook; I'm going to post some of them anyway because they are so scenic and cool.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Regaining Self Confidence

     For the past few weeks, I haven't really felt like myself. It's really hard for me to explain, and it's pretty embarrassing for me to admit, but I think the main cause is that I'd lost some self confidence. Talk about a typical teenage crisis; somehow I'd become so thoroughly depressed, that I honestly started to believe that I didn't have any friends that cared about me.

     I now realize that that idea  lodged in my brain was completely and entirely wrong. For the past few weeks, I've been allowing little insults to hurt me worse than bullets. Often, I found myself just curling up in a ball on my bed for long periods of time, wondering what could possibly be wrong, wondering if I just had some sort of mental problem that was making me depressed. And then rationalizing that maybe that would be the cause as to why people didn't like me.

     I'm sorry if this is making you feel sorry for me at all, that's definitely not what I'm trying to get at, but I'm being completely honest.

     I finally realized why I became so depressed- it's because I allowed every little tease and taunt to feel like an insult to me, my family, and my cow. Instead of judging myself by what I know, I judged myself off of what others thought about me. My self confidence was utterly demolished. I continued to lose even more self confidence because I haven't been doing what I love to do lately; helping people! I had been so concerned about worrying about not having any friends, that I didn't take the time like I normally do to be one myself.

     It took three lessons in church and seminary to completely heal that little hole in my heart. I can't remember everything that was said during those lessons, but I want to type up a page of quotes from on of those lessons, and I hope that this will help somebody out there who feels alone and unloved.

"One of the greatest weaknesses in most of us is our lack of faith in ourselves. One of our common failings is to depreciate our tremendous worth." ~Elder Tom Perry

"A wise teacher and stake Relief Society president flashed a large picture on a screen. It showed a bright-eyed boy with unkempt hair and folded arms, deep in thought. The caption rad,
'I know I'm somebody 'cause God don't make no junk.'
Please let me repeat, 'I know I'm somebody 'cause God don't make no junk.' ... He knew he wasn't junk. He knew he wasn't impossible. He knew he was a human being loved by his Heavenly Father." -Elder Marvin J. Ashton

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." -Elenor Rosevelt

We do not all have the same talents, abilities, or potential, but each of us has something that we can do well. We need to find our own unique qualities and build on them. We need to have sufficient confidence in ourselves that we can improve. We can begin by thinking that we can succeed.

There are times when we all feel somewhat less adequate than other people. We need to compare ourselves with our own best selves and seek for improvements that are within our own capabilities. One of the greatest challenges is to overcome the feeling that we are not important.

Our life has a purpose. We were born to succeed and to become like God.

Finally I've started to think postively about myself again, and now I don't really care what people think about me. Life isn't about what people think or don't think of you, it's about what you yourself and God know about you!

If you have time, please watch the video on this website.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Benjamin Franklin Values

     In English, we had an assignment to make a list of ten values that we want to maintain throughout our lives. I thought it would be good if I posted my values here so that I can read them and remember them. Now I will tell you the list of ten values that I made for class.

1. Sympathy and Generosity- Throughout my life, I will do my best to be understanding of others and their situations (putting myself in other people’s shoes. I will be generous to those in need, and never lose my human heart and empathy.
2. Anticipation- I will constantly do my best to anticipate and prepare for my future by hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.
3. Courage- Even when life throws its worst at me, I will be brave: honest, loyal, and true to myself and my fellow man no matter the negative or positive consequences.
4. Gratitude- During the course of life, I will remember that God and my parents have made me who I am today, and recognize that other influences will shape who I will yet become. It is with this attitude that I will always make sure that I appreciate the many positive influences that have helped me in accomplishing my goals.
5. Learning- I will recognize that no matter how much I do that I will never be perfect; even with that knowledge, I’ll continue doing my best to always continue learning, to the benefit of myself, my posterity, and those I influence.
6. Purity and Self Control- I will recognize that eventually in my life, I will encounter negative people with negative intents and purposes; it is then that I will maintain pure self control, knowing that God is always watching.
7. Zeal- Without a passion for life, life would be meaningless. I will live my life by continually counting my blessings and reminding others that they should too.
8. Respect- I will respect all men and women by accepting their viewpoints and listening, even if I don’t agree. I will treat everyone as I want to be treated to show proper respect.
9. Firmness- I will be firm in my resolutions, and I will not allow my values to be discarded at any time for the sake of convenience.
10. Determination- In life there will always be trials that will make me lose my direction, but I will do my very best to remain determined, focusing on all of the values that I want to uphold throughout my entire life.

The Crucible

     Crucible- 1. A heat resistant container in which ores or metals are melted 2. A place or a set of circumstances where people or things are subjected to forces that often make them change. In Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, the unhappy plot unfolds as fear and revenge heat up the whole town, despite their best resistance to it. The hot temperature of the fire around the crucible continually soars as Reverend Parris tries to serve his own needs by interrogating his niece Abigail. Abigail helps intensify the heat of the inferno even more as she takes revenge on her lover John Proctor and his wife. Following in her wake, the whole town becomes a raging blaze, accusing others so that they may remain unaccused.

     Fear can change a person into someone completely different from who they truly are inside. As in the case of Mary Warren, she ended up having to choose between risking her own life to hanging or condemning the innocent John Proctor to his own death. Eventually her courage broke, and she accused Proctor of witchcraft even though that was something totally against her value of honest. The town girls kept accusing others so that the blame for their dancing in the woods would shift onto someone else. Realizing when they first started accusing that they were completely lying, knowing that lying was a huge sin, they tried to justify their own sin of lying by accusing others who had also sinned. Fearful of what might happen if they were caught lying made them feel like they had to continue these lies to remain safe.

     Gossip appeals to people emotionally because it spreads other people’s private actions and thoughts in a dramatic fashion that appeals to our senses. Eventually our strong belief in something that can’t be proved becomes so strong through our own self analysis that we begin to believe gossip that could be completely untrue about others. John Proctor rightfully accused Abigail of lying and trying to kill his wife, but Elizabeth ended up condemning her and her husband’s lives by not revealing the actual truth. Because of Elizabeth’s inability to tell the truth, gossip and lies seemed to be the only truth. The lies by gossip could not be proved or disproved, but the actual truth ended up being told and perceived as a lie, thus furthering the “evidence” that Abigail’s and the girls’ accusations were true.

     Because of the flames started by Reverend Parris’s questioning Abigail and Abigail’s lying, the heat that they caused in the town eventually melted their crucible, the once resistant resolve of the town completely crumbled. When Proctor chose to die in innocence of crime rather than living a lie and dishonoring his name, he took the heat of the whole town into his whole being. Proctor chooses to let them kill him in innocence rather than giving them the means to justify the fact that they had killed so many people already. A name can be compared to a person’s soul; a name is a personal describing adjective that describes who you truly are as a person. John Proctor realized that he could not be true to his name or himself by continually living a lie for the rest of his life; he knew that he hadn’t been true to himself in the past by cheating with Abigail, but he also knew that integrity was a value worth dying for. At the end of the book, an honest man realized that living life after denying who you truly are isn’t even worth it.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Halloween Dance #2

     On Halloween night, I went to my school's girl's choice Halloween dance with my friend Parker, and it was really fun!

      I asked Parker in a way that I made up myself, I got a Halloween Chinese fortune cookie box and then bought some fortune cookies that I customized with the help of my mom. We cooked fortune cookies in the microwave for about twenty seconds- they become soft enough to open just a crack. Once that was done, we removed the paper fortune inside and then replaced it with our own home-made fortunes! On the fortunes that I made for Peter, I had lucky letters instead of a lucky number. The lucky letters spelled out my first name.
The fortunes had awesome sayings on them that I chose like:
"Curiosity kills boredom. Nothing can kill curiosity."
"The harder you work, the luckier you get." and my personal favorite,
"Help! I'm being held prisoner in a Chinese bakery!" and on the outside I had a note that said, " I would be very "fortunate" if you'd go to the Halloween dance with me!"
Peter then responded by giving me a ton of Chinese take-out boxes that were filled to the brim with white rice, each contained a Chinese character. Admittedly, I had to get my Chinese teacher's help the next day to figure them out, but he said "yes" on the same day that I asked him!! Isn't that nice?
I like how every guy I've asked so far has responded on the same day, I know sometime that my luck will run out with that whole "same day" thing, but I'm still pretty fortunate myself.

     For the day activity on Friday, we had a Freaky Feast that my mom did a ton of work for. There was a list of crazy named items that we had to order from for dinner, but we didn't know what any of them were, (well maybe I knew a few...) Anyway, so that was really fun to order stuff that you didn't really know what it would turn out to be! After an amazing dinner, we all went to the Farmington corn maze, nobody in my group knows this to my everlasting embarrassment, but my cellphone fell out of my pocket during the maze!! Luckily we were able to call the maze and it was found and returned safely. The last thing we did for the day activity was go to Jessica's and watch "The Sixth Sense," what a creepy Halloween movie!!!

     It was really scary driving so many people in my car, because I've never ever driven more than two other people in my car at any given time, I know that I only had one more person to drive, but it really scared me. I'm not the world's best driver, and now I realize that I am absolutely terrible at directions. Oh well! It was kinda fun to drive my mom's more expensive maroon Tribeca.

     The dance itself was more of a party than a dance, the music was extremely loud, and it was that punky almost rap style of music that most teenagers (other than myself like.) There wasn't a single slow dance for partner dancing, so I started using crazy dance moves that other people started teaching me and then made myself look pretty weird! Good times!

Sunday, October 4, 2009

My Favorite Birthday Present of All Time

     It was about two months before my birthday when I was randomly looking through a National Geographic magazine. Generally magazines don't really hold my interest, I like awesome long novels that I can get hooked on. As I was flipping through the pages, I saw a picture that caught my attention more than anything in any book could have. There were three or four pictures of adorable little children, there was only problem... Their mouths and teeth were completely deformed into unbelievable shapes that tore at my heart strings. It was then that I realized that more than anything, I wanted to help those kids. My mom was surprised when I called her name loudly across the house and said, "Mom, I know what I want for my birthday!!" I proceeded to tell her that I had everything that I truly wanted, telling her that those children's needs were so much greater than mine that I was willing to give them any birthday presents I would have gotten by donating to their cause.

     That became my favorite birthday present of all time, because I don't truly need anything. I have food, shelter, family that supports me, and the most amazing best friends that anyone could have. Why was I sent to Earth for if I'm not going to benefit it in some way?

     I must admit that there was one other thing that I thought would be cool for my birthday. I didn't expect it at all, and I was more concerned about my gift to Operation Smile. As I listened to the radio in September with my mom, I heard that one of my favorite singers was coming to Utah to have a concert, on my birthday! My mom told me that we couldn't go, because Colbie Caillat's concert was going to be held in a bar. It turned out that the concert wasn't really IN a bar, but next to a popular local bar in Salt Lake City.

     To my great astonishment, my mom bought multiple tickets to see Colbie Caillat and Howie Day, she, my cousin, and my sister were able to keep it a secret from me for over a month... Even when they had talked about going to see a concert, right in front of my face!

     It was funny, because as my birthday was approaching, I started talking to my mom about having a kind of "birthday party" on my birthday. I just wanted to have four or five close friends come watch a movie with me and not even call it a birthday party. Not even realizing how suspiciously against my easy and simple idea she was, I didn't even think that the reason she was so against it was the fact that she already had plans for me! In a desperate attempt to distract my mind from the idea of a birthday party, my cousin told me at school that she wanted to take me out to dinner on my birthday. To my embarrassment, I remember thinking to myself that it was pretty odd that Alexis had taken a day off work just to take me out to dinner. I mean come on, I'm not THAT special!

     The concert turned out to be amazing! Howie Day is such a better singer live and he has crazy facial expressions!! Colbie Caillat was just absolutely amazing. Her voice is so pretty, and I enjoyed all of her songs! I was a little sad though that she didn't sing my favorite song, it's definitely not her most popular (Tailor Made.) Oh well, it was way cool!

     All in all, it was a crazy and eventful day. It started with hiking with my friends in the morning, running around town all day with my mom, going out to dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant, and finally ending in an amazing concert! My seventeenth birthday was a day to remember!

Monday, September 7, 2009

Where I'm From

I am from old fashioned picture frames,
from fading pink paint with many names.
I’m from blooming buds and wilting roses
to lanky limbed trees grown in unique poses.

I am from happy green playing fields
Fraught with kids riding bikes without yields.
I am from “love yous” and “don’t hurries”
From “stay safes” and “Don’t you worries.”

I’m from a joking military dad,
and Mom who’s a computer software grad.
I’m from family paparazzi grandma
With old, silly, sweet-toothed grandpa.

I’m from drinking hot chocolate all year round,
From eating Grandma’s “cooking” without a sound.
I’m from Mom’s Mexican, Italian, and more,
From eating so much it makes me sore.

And in this world that can be so bleak,
It’ll be those memories that I keep.
Locked deep, safe and sound in my own heart
I love them all, every single part.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Three of My Life Changing Events

     Sorry guys, but I'm posting yet another essay. This essay is different from any essay I've ever written because it's pretty personal to me, and it gives very accurate incite to why I act like I do, and tells readers how my mind works. In this essay for A.P. American history I was required to write about three of my most life impacting events. They might not seem like that big of a deal to you, but they were to me. Of course I knew a teacher would be reading this, so I tried to make it a little less personal. Don't be offended if you aren't personally mentioned; all of my friends have made an impact on my life. In fact, I didn't mention the affects of the friends I made at Fairfield. Because of my friends at Fairfield, I was able to have friends at Davis. To be more particular, I ended up meeting my very best friend of all time. So enjoy the essay!

     There are a few things about me that many people could easily point out when first meeting me, Jojo. I’m a simple girl, very easy to please, and excited for just about everything that life has in store for me. Although I’m the type of person who enjoys simplicity, and have only lived sixteen years, I have had personally significant, life changing experiences that I will never forget. I’ve had a complete paradigm shift from a near death experience, I’ve been able to start out on a fresh slate from an unexpected change of schools, and I now know the significance of both hard work and team work through my past efforts in the Davis High Marching Band.

     When I broke a blood vessel at the young age of ten, I came to realize the importance of life. Being as young as I was at the time, I had never had anyone really close to me die. My broken blood vessel was located somewhere above my nose, so at first, my family thought that it was simply a bloody nose. Unfortunately, the blood pouring from my nose didn’t stop after the first twenty minutes; after forty-five minutes, I was practically passing out while in the process of being carried into the Emergency Room. As I started to lose my senses, sitting on the gurney in the waiting room, I began to recognize the fact that I might die before a doctor could save me. With tear-filled eyes, I told my dad that I loved him and apologized to my older sister for being angry at her earlier in the day. A short time later, I was being carried again, but this time I was being lifted into a car instead of onto a gurney. The doctors saved me, but that is an event that I will never forget. Breaking a blood vessel was a very traumatizing experience, but I was able to learn first-hand that tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. I finally comprehended the importance of living without regrets and making sure that you truly appreciate those you love before it’s too late.

     The second life changing experience that I had wasn’t as scary as my first, but it still had a huge impact on my life’s outlook. Halfway through eighth grade, my neighbors and I were informed that there was going to be a boundary change that would encompass not only us, but the two neighborhoods next to us. I was completely devastated. From the beginning of my torment in seventh grade, I had imagined what it would be like to be at the top of the rung, a ninth grader. In all my times of envisioning, I had never imagined that I would be going to a new school. Somehow, I would be re-living my seventh grade experience again, but this time I’d be a lost and shy ninth grader. Amazingly, going to Fairfield Junior High turned out to be the best experience of my life, and I learned so many skills, both socially and academically. The district that changed my neighborhood’s boundaries had a student body officer elected to help the other new kids involved in the boundary change, and I became the officer. In eighth grade, I had never tried to get to know anyone; I already had friends and didn’t feel like I needed more. When I became an officer that kids looked up to at a new school, I realized how important it is to make others feel important. I did my best to befriend lonely kids, like myself, and now I know more than ever that sometimes it’s the little things that count in someone’s life. Someone’s whole day can be made by one small and kind act.

     My final life changing experience wasn’t a single experience, but many impacting memories and challenges that I faced when first joining the Davis High Marching Band. It all began with my amazingly smart sister, Ashli. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be like her. Before I even knew the purpose of Ash’s shiny silver instrument, I knew that I wanted to grow up and play it too. Although I didn’t completely follow in her footsteps when it came to band, it has still been one of the best experiences of my life. After playing the flute all through junior high, for the marching band, I decided to learn a new instrument, the baritone. A baritone is a brass instrument, best described as a miniature tuba (although it is still extremely heavy.) Learning a new instrument was a lot harder than I’d expected. Sometimes I would sit in my room, practicing for hours on end, trying to make my mouth properly buzz. Carrying such a heavy instrument was mentally and physically strenuous; just holding the baritone up for a minute became a burden, but I learned how to mentally push through pain (even though I injured myself a few times in the process.) Marching band taught me the importance of hard work. Hard work not only benefits the person that’s working hard, it benefits every person that you keep in mind while completing the difficult task. The most important lesson I learned was the lesson of teamwork. While competing against other high schools, I had to rely on my fellow baritone players many times; they taught me how to follow in their footsteps so that I could be a positive asset to our team.

     Even though I have lived a fairly short life so far, I’ve already found meaning and purpose to my life through my many experiences. Through a completely random “bloody nose,” I learned how important it is to live life as best as you can before it’s too late, in school I learned about leadership and just how important it is to lovingly include anyone in need of friendship, and through marching band, I learned how good it feels to work towards a goal, accomplish it, and learn to be a team player as you work with others.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

The Cutest Homecoming Invitation

     Once again, I'm sorry that I haven't been writing very much dear blog readers! It's been a crazy and hectic past month (particularly the past week.) I'm back in the marching band, and yes, I'm playing the heavy baritone again. On top of the three and a half hour long practices after school every week day except for Tuesday and Friday, I have hard classes like Chemistry, Honors English, and the infamous A.P. American history that I've done four and a half hours worth of homework over this weekend on. Ouch!

     Even though it's been kind of tough getting back into the work hard and no sleep routine, it hasn't been all bad. In fact, I was asked to my very first Homecoming dance (to my continually happy and most astonished surprise.) To be completely honest, I've spent the past month just trying not to think about the Homecoming dance. I kept telling myself that if I didn't expect to get asked, then it wouldn't hurt as much when I didn't get asked. But somehow I was wrong.

     On Wednesday night I was downstairs working diligently on my A.P. American essay (which I will post later,) when my dad called my name. My concentration was a bit shattered after working on this essay for over two hours, so I didn't stall for too long. To my surprise, dad stared me down and said,
"Beth, the door's for you." My brother next to him snickered a little, and I felt really confused. Had I been so concentrated that I couldn't even hear someone knocking on the door?
Yet again I was surprised when I walked into the entry way to find the door closed, not an inch of the night beyond could be seen. Walking a little bit quicker, I reached my hand for the door and peered outside no longer expecting to find a person. Even though I'd only been asked to one other dance, it felt just like the first time.

     One of our lawn chairs was sitting on the outer edges of the porch light's circle, I noticed a white piece of paper taped onto the back of the chair before I noticed the bright red rose sitting on top of it. The note read:
Dear Jojo...,
I would be immensely honored if you would accompany me to the Home Coming dance.
(and in a bit smugger tone of letters beneath it said,)
provided you can find all twelve roses to figure out my name.

     After doing so much homework, I was more than happy to take a break. It took me about thirty (or more) minutes to find all of the vibrantly red roses all around my yard and in the bushes and only five minutes to figure out that Wes was the one who asked me. For the past year I have collected every flower I receive. Wes didn't know that when he bought the roses, but I'm probably going to keep those roses for the rest of my life so that I can remind myself later in life that there's always someone out there who cares enough to make me feel happier.

     The next day Wes got a box of twelve donuts in his last period math class. I wanted to give him a dozen of something too! On the outside of the donut box it said something along the lines of:
"Do not open this box in class! If you are clever enough to unscramble these letters, (which I'm sure you are,) then you will have your Homecoming response!
Best of Luck! -Beth."

     As you've probably guessed, I stuck twelve letters inside the box, one in each donut hole. It spelled out, "I would love to!" because those were the first words that popped into my head when thinking of how to respond.

Sunday, July 12, 2009


     Once again I'm posting a talk that I gave in church. It's a pretty intense talk, but it seemed like lots of people liked it! It would be a good talk to read if you have the time, enjoy! (And P.S. readers, I'm sorry I haven't written in my blog for so long! I need to work on that!)

     When I was asked by Brother Wood to give a talk on the girls' camp theme, "Be Patriotic," I wasn't all that surprised. I gave a thought or two last Sunday in relief society about being grateful for our country, and I guess that the fact that my dad, being a sergeant major in the military, also helped contribute to my being here today (in more than one way.)

     But, I don't mind talking to you today; being patriotic should be an important part in all of our lives. I looked up the word "Patriotic" in a rather large dictionary, and it explained that the adjective "patriotic" is a word that describes the characteristic of having devotion to one's country. But the similar word, "patriot" is a noun, a living person, who isn't just a feeling, but a person like you and me. A patriot is "one who loves his country and zealously guards its welfare;especially a defender of liberty." Over 900,000 known men and women have died as soldiers for our sake over the lifespan of America, they are a symbol of bravery, and their many tombstones remind us that freedom isn't free.

     It's easy to declare how patriotic we are, but it's a lot more difficult to be an actual patriot; a patriot that's willing to defend our country from those that would want to steal our freedom. Patriots don't have to be brave soldiers like my dad and so many others, we can all be patriotic by simply and bravely being grateful for the liberties we've been given, holding our standards and morals high, and by doing the best we can with the wonderful opportunity that we've been given by being born in a free country.

     I'd like to share a quick poem with you, written by Joanna Fuchs.
On the Fourth of July, I raised the flag,
As I spoke with love and pride;
"I'm blessed to be an American," I said,
To two friends who stood by my side.
One was my neighbor, who lives next door,
He's a citizen, like me.
The other, a visitor from a hard oppressed land,
Far across the Sea.
"My flag stays in its box this year,"
Said my neighbor, boiling mad.
"The terrible shape this country's in,
The future looks nothing but bad."
"Taxes, scandal, indifference and crime,
On our land like a giant stain."
My visitor said, "We have all that and worse,
But it's against the law to complain."
My neighbor looked startled, but not subdued;
Then he started on the Press:
"There's nothing but bad news; the headlines are bleak."
(It gets me down too, I confess.)
"Our news is all good," said my visitor.
"It's just how you'd like it to be.
We know what our government wants us to know;
Our press is controlled, you see."
My neighbor spun 'round and marched toward his house.
And here is the end to my story:
The next time we saw him, he was out in his yard,
Proudly raising Old Glory.

     Just like the grumpy old neighbor said, there IS lots of bad news out there, and sometimes it looks like our country's future IS bleak. Social security is going down the drain, and there's still lots of crime.

     But, in Africa, nearly six thousand people die every day from AIDS, and hardly any of them get proper treatment; while in America, we complain if the doctor's office is too busy to see us for a few hours.In the Middle East, women have to wear a veil at all times, and aren't allowed to drive; sometimes we complain that the prophet advises us not to wear tank tops, and sixteen years seems too long to wait to be able to drive or date.Over in mainland China, there are over 1.3 billion people, they can get punished by the government if they get caught reading the Bible in public; in America, we have the opportunity to pray or read the Bible and the Book of Mormon how we want, whenever we want, and wherever we want, but how often do we?

We have so many opportunities here, we can do just about whatever we feel like, just because we can or want to. Yet, sometimes it's all too easy to complain that we have it bad, and that our government isn't all that great, and every other little thing; even though we are still free, and free enough to complain.

     I have a testimony, and a strong belief that everyone here is truly blessed and loved by Heavenly Father, I hope that all of you will look for and be grateful for all the blessings that you have by being an American, and recognize the importance of being patriotic, no matter what the world's opinion of our country is.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Visiting Great Grandma Walker

So the last nine days have been completely scheduled to the rim with activities! Of course, I was on vacation. Our family went on a trip to Oregon, which concluded in a visit to San Francisco, and the long, rainy drive home.

The first part of the trip was dedicated to Grandma Walker... She is quite the character! She's like the energizer bunny, trapped in a ninety year old person's body!
Strangely I've come to find that the two of us have a lot in common. We both love life and are excited about pretty much anything good. We're both really short, (I'm shorter,) and we both really love animals.
Despite our similiarities, there is a minor difference between me and Grandma. For the most part, I prefer speaking my mind, but I try to filter what goes in and out of my mouth at all times; Grandma doesn't. She has no problem cursing, and has loads of famous quotes. The way she talks is a little bit childlike, she is blunt, and doesn't care if she insults other people with her honesty. The good thing to this is that you always know what's on her mind, and what she thinks of you.

When we walked into her old, whitewashed house in her old folks area in Oregon, the memory of our last visit was fresh on our minds. We stood nervously before her big black door as my dad knocked. A strange anticipation hung in the air, along with a foreboding sense of dread. For some reason, it took a really long time for her to reach the door of her small rambler. We found out after the door was swung slowly open that Grandma Walker had finally acquired a walker for herself, her ankle had never properly healed after she'd broken it last year... Her ankle was totally deformed, and I clenched my fists in anger as she told us how the doctor's had treated her. Technically they hadn't treated her at all, acting like she was too old to be helped and not doing anything.

She kept talking to us for a few minutes, her voice was a bit rattly, and she laughed often in her low alto voice. My dad acted clownish, just to see her reactions.
After talking so seriously, it wasn't long before we couldn't surpress laughs. Grandma finally took the time to observe the family that she hadn't seen in a few years, and she commented on her grandson's appearance.
Without sympathy, she looked my dad up and down. After her eyes were done scrutinizing my dad, she loudly exclaimed, "Why Grant, you've gotten so fat! You're just so fat, you must really like to eat!!" I felt a twinge of pity for my dad, but I just couldn't help but laugh at her unchanted, unrelenting bluntness. I was relieved that she didn't think I was fat.

     Our Grandma Walker has was born in 1919, so she's lived through a lot. She's lived through the Great Depression and both world wars. Because of her age, she has lots of traditions and formalities that haven't really changed much since her younger ages.

     The worst part of going to Grandma's is her hospitality. When she was our age, it was always necessary to offer to feed your guests. Grandma took it upon herself to make sure that we, "her guests," were well fed. This eventually led to her trying to force us into eating her old food,"Just shut up and eat some potato salad!!"

     I really love my Grandma, but there is one thing that our family can't deny. Her food would easily qualify for Fear Factor. After trying to stall the inevitable, we finally knew that there was no way to avoid eating what she offered. That night's course was potato salad.

     She'd been eager to have us eat the potato salad she made from the day she made it about a week before...

     My grandma sat in her rocker in the next room, watching us in the kitchen to make sure that we were well fed. Fortunately, her sight isn't all that great, she didn't see our noses crinkling in blatant dismay.
As if on cue, everyone looked to me, desperation emanating from their eyes. My mom silently questioned, "How much do you love your grandma?" I gulped and shook my head. I felt like I was volunteering for the guillotine. With a little hesitation, I muttered,
"Alright, I'll eat some in front of her, that way she gets the impression that we've eaten." As if reading my mind, mom whispered in relief,
"Are you sure? Okay, we'll stay over here, just come dump the rest in the garbage after you're done." I trudged into the front room with a paper plate, armed with only a fork against the potato salad.
Grandma looked at me expectantly, I dipped the fork into an odd colored potato and shoved it into my mouth before I could cower out. My heaved in protest to the disgusting salad, the second that I put the food in my mouth, I involuntarily gagged, chewing just enough to swallow it down, and then quickly forced three more bites before my stomach settled again.

    After I was sure that my grandma had seen me eat her salad, I slinked back into the antique filled kitchen and found the garbage can. That wasn't the worst food I had at Grandma's last week, but that really was taking one for the team.

     My whole family stayed in a fairly nice hotel while we visited Grandma Walker, her house was much too small for everyone. Even though we had a hotel room, my dad insisted that I spend the next three nights alone with Grandma to prove how much I love him... I really must love my dad, because there are things much worse than potato salad lurking in Grandma's fridge.

     As much as I tried to sleep in that morning to avoid breakfast, I just couldn't. Grandma's house was really cold, and it didn't help that I'm an early bird. At six thirty, I walked into the kitchen, only to find Grandma waiting for me. The very first thing out of her smiling mouth was,
"Let's get you some breakfast!!" I groaned inside, wondering if I could possibly come out of this trip alive.

     For breakfast, I had shredded wheat, with sour milk poured on it. That was pretty gross, but not the worst part. After only being able to eat half of it, Grandma insistently tried to make me eat everything else in her fridge. She handed me a black banana. I peeled the skin off, to reveal that the banana itself was covered in brown spots. Grandma handed me a butter knife, so that I could cut off the larger spots.
When I was done cutting, there wasn't really much banana left. She looked at me encouragingly as I bit into the hard banana. Even though that also was too gross to finish, I couldn't force myself to eat anymore after the tropical canned fruit. That fruit must've been opened and left in the fridge for a decade, it tasted like tuna...

Aside from the Fear Factor food, it was fun to visit my grandma again. We spent the whole first day in Oregon by doing things that she couldn't normally do for herself.
She scowled at my dad when he told her that we were going to go pick the weeds outside her house. She loves her potted garden, and didn't want us to think that she'd somehow not taken care of it,
"I don't think you'll find any weeds out there!! I don't think you can tell the difference between the plants and the weeds!" She was scared that we'd ruin her beautiful English Roses, and turned out to be really surprised that we actually managed to find so many weeds.
The last day in Oregon was sad, but it was the best day at Grandma's. We went on an eight mile hike called "Canyon Trail," which had ten gorgeous waterfalls.

     When we came back to Grandma's house after the hike, we got to hear lots of her stories and lectures. My favorite part of the whole conversation was a reference to her little old cat "Kissy Kissy." My grandma looked intensely at my dad as she asked,
"Now Grant, do you believe in aliens?" To which he instantly replied,
"No Grandma, there's no such thing. Don't worry about them." To which my grandma passionately exclaimed,
"Then what happened to my cat?!?"
I know that it's sad and crazy, but my Grandma believes that she has proof that her cat was abducted by aliens. The worst part about her cat stories is that Kissy Kissy was actually her neighbor's cat. (For some reason my grandma thought that their cat was hers.) One day, after grandma let him outside, Kissy Kissy "ran away," and she never saw her beloved cat again...
We're pretty sure that the neighbors just reclaimed their cat.

Monday, May 18, 2009

The Ballad of a Female Knight

Okay, I think Mrs. H tried to do me in with this one! I had to write a "twenty" line ballad for English! It was required to have a plot, and all ballads are required to be love stories... Needless to say, I couldn't do all of that in twenty, this turned out to be forty four lines of poetry in A-B-X-B format. Not only is it forty four lines, it has a very depressing ending! Sorry about that, it's hard to have a cheerful mood when writing poetry! (haha)

Alexandria was a gallant knight,
She used to sit at Arthur’s Round Table.
Dressed as a boy, she helped knights fight evil
As the Blue eyed hero of this fable.

The young lady fell in love with Arthur,
But unknowing, he married Guinevere.
Alex’s heart was hurt, but she stayed true,
She battled alongside him without fear.

Sparring with Lancelot, she learned to fight,
Alex earned respect from her belov’d king,
He never knew she was an armored girl.
He only saw her long weapons in swing.

On a dark and stormy night they set off,
The knights of Camelot looked for The Grail;
Alex as custom rode by Arthur’s side.
They searched through forest glades without avail.

Finally they came across a large cave,
It’s dark and dank depths were filled with despair.
Alex entered in front of the brigade,
Arthur gave her braveness no thought or care.

Down in the black unfathomable cave,
At the farthest reaches a light appeared.
Guided by instincts, they knew this was it,
The home of the Holy Grail they revered.

The room guarding The Grail sparkled with gold,
Hundreds of cups lined the intricate walls.
Together the comrades stood and puzzled.
Which of these cups would bring about their falls?

Would it be a goblet, made out of glass?
Could something like The Cup be plainly wood?
Arthur studied the many chalices.
He thought he’d found it, no one understood.

On a pillar was a gold glass, shining.
Its pleasant brightness filled up the whole room.
Arthur was about to drink its liquid
When Alex interfered and met her doom.

Arthur’s brave knight wanted to try it first,
She knew the wrong choice would bring instant death;
So she begged Arthur to let her test first,
After drinking, she soon ran out of breath.

Alex knew that Christ was a carpenter,
She wasn’t surprised that he’d chosen wrong.
Alex knew that her love would bring her fall,
So our hero bade a silent so long.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Continued/ Poems #2

I don't have much to say now days, so I'll keep posting my poems that I'm required to write.

This next poem is called a "found poem." It's actually kind of cool, but it took me forever to make. All you have to do is pick some lines out of already written books and make your own poem out of it! It's not plagiarism, because every "found poem" is titled "found poem" (thus informing the reader that none of the words in the poem belong to the author of the poem, if that makes any sense.)

My first found poem was written with a crazy variety of books which included The "Three Musketeers", "The Last Olympian", "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince", and, "Love, Stargirl."

Found Poem
Both remained suspended, motionless;
The storm began to subside
But still the sea was disturbed.
“Come! Come courage!”
As I said it, I knew it was a naïve hope.
Who are you if you lose your favorite person?
A sheer drop, black and faceless
It was a bleak, harsh view, the sea and the rock unrelieved by any tree or sweep of grass or sand.
Will we ever meet again?
I will sail into the future on mystery’s wings and I will not look back.

I wrote a second Hokku for fun, so you'll have to put up with it... Sorry! A Hokku is much like a Haiku, but about something other than nature.

Light step follows light step,
A set of eyes bore into me;
I am being followed

This is an ode to eyes that crinkle when they smile. I wrote it, at first thinking about my friends, but in the end I started writing it about my cousin. So if you're reading this, I love ya "cuz cuz!" (Sorry about the blue eye thing, very few people have green eyes and not many things rhyme with green either... Except for mean, but that doesn't really fit!)

Those eyes that are so bright, they shine,
A caring, compassionate sign.
Eyes belonging to my best friend,
A friendship that will never end.
Her eyes are like an open book,
I understand with just one look;
Deepened shades of both green and blue,
Exuding happiness, like so few.
Eyes that make my entire day,
My cares are simply washed away.

I have two epitaphs to write now to entertain you all... Unfortunately you'll have to wait for another time, I just can't force myself to write another poem!

Thursday, May 7, 2009


For the next few weeks, I'm required to write ten or more poems for English! I'm pretty bad at poetry, so this is going to be pretty funny! Well I guess I'll start with my Hokku (not Haiku.)Hokkus have three lines, so it's not too hard!

We stretch our lanky limbs,
Our hearts race rapidly;
The game is about to begin.

Well that was simple, not that great, but I'm working on it. Now it's time for a few Haikus!
The water is clear,
It swims in rapid torrents,
Yet it can be calm.

Tall trees shade the sun.
Light filters in like a stream,
Shades of green and gold.

Crimson embers crack;
Yellow dancers leap upward,
With orange partners.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Tomorrow Never Comes

     I gave a presentation in biology today, about a terrible disease called "progeria." I don't think I've ever cried as much as when I was making the power point presentation. The disease is absolutely horrible, and I cried continuously as I read about this adorable little girl named Hayley Okines. She is the sweetest little girl, and I was devastated that there is almost no chance of her surviving to her next birthday.

     Finally the time for my presentation rolled around. After school I felt like a mess, and probably looked like one too for all I know. But it was one of the hardest things that I've had to do, sucking up my own sentimental nature so that I didn't cry in front of every kid in the class. As I headed out to the bus after school, I was still thinking about Hayley, and my presentation; needless to say, I felt really depressed. And that's when someone made my day, as usual. I still continued pondering about Hayley's sad predicament, and I continued to think about my presentation, but I also thought about how much I love my friends and family. There's almost no words to describe how much I love you guys! So, I'm going to post one of my favorite poems, keeping all of my best friends in mind as I do.

Tomorrow Never Comes

If I knew it would be the last time I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly, and pray the Lord your soul to keep.
If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and a kiss, and call you back for just one more.

If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would tape each word and action, and play them back throughout my days.
If I knew it would be the last time, I would spare an extra minute or two,
To stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming you know I do.

So just in case tomorrow never comes, and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you, and I hope we never forget.
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day
That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss,
And you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today, and whisper in their ear,
That you love them very much, and you'll always hold them dear.
Take the time to say "I'm sorry," "Please forgive me," "Thank you," or "It's okay,"
And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.

---Norma Cornett Marek

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

A Year to Remember

      “Did you hear the news, Beth?” asked my Dad cautiously, eyeing me as if expecting me to know.
“Uh, I have no idea what you’re talking about to be honest.” I responded. My Dad took an intake of breath, looking at me seriously,
“The district changed the school boundaries; you’re going to Fairfield next year.” As if on cue I gasped in horror,
“What?! Fairfield Junior High? But Dad, this is my last year of junior high; they can’t just force me to another school!” He just shook his head at my incredulity as I sank into a pool of tears.

     I was going to be at the top of the rung, the oldest in the school, yet, I would be new!
At first I protested the idea altogether, literally, I went protesting during a public meeting held at Layton High to discuss our neighborhood’s “fate.” Why should I let the unseen district push me around like a child’s play-toy? The fact of the matter was that I  truly was nothing more than a pawn in their hands. Just another number, easy to be moved around the board. It wasn’t long before the hopelessness set in, the realization that I was going to a new school hit me harder than a ton of bricks; there was nothing I could do about it!

     Before I knew it, my time as a knight of Kaysville Junior High was up; the last months with my friends from fourth grade were over. Despite my feelings of self doubt and depression that I faced when I thought of the ominous outlook of attending a new school, there was a little compensation for my situation. In a feeble attempt to make the poor kids in my neighborhood have some confidence, they decided to elect a ninth grader to a student body officer position. With some luck and lots of posters, I became the “new student student body officer!” It was after the election that my attitude changed dramatically. As I had learned earlier, there was nothing that I could do to change the district, it’s not like I could really change the world just because I was “officer.” Like I’d been taught in Kindergarten, I was completely in charge of myself; attitude and all, and I decided that I was going to make the best of what I’d been given. After all, wasn’t there a reason for everything?

     After a long summer of contemplation, and heart-rending worries, it was the night before school! Where had summer gone? Life wasn’t like a train; it was more like a roaring subway that never stopped. Scared completely out of my wits about the quickly fading summer; I prayed earnestly that I might somehow at least recognize one person in all my classes. It was a ridiculous thing to ask for really, but God always finds a way to help those that try.
After getting the least amount of sleep that I’ve ever gotten on a school night, I woke up calm and collected. It was just another day of school, and hey, I wasn’t the only new student out there now was I?

     Well Fairfield was definitely a crazy experience at first. The first day of school was very interesting. I sat in all of my “ninth grader only” classes, yet many kids thought I was an eighth grader, just because I was new. In band class, I felt the full force of all of the staring! The band was a unified team of percussion and woodwinds who had learned to play together over the years. To their apparent amazement, Mr. Earl had let an outsider in, a little green-eyed flautist who had come from an opposing school! Well, it was hard to grin and bear the stares in that class; I was too busy blowing through my flute.

     Even though the first few weeks were pretty tough, Fairfield became my second home in no time! I knew only a handful of officers at first, but that slowly changed as I began branching out. My prayer on the first night of school had been answered and somehow the student body president was in all seven of my classes!

     For the first two and a half months I didn’t have a main group of friends; instead I sat with random kids that looked as lonely as I sometimes felt. Even though I didn’t really mind, I missed having my fun, over-dramatic best friends that actually new me. Maybe I shouldn’t have really missed that, because I got plenty of drama later on!

     Without warning, a quick week of school rolled past, becoming a month, which brought up the first menacing school dance.

     The terrible smell of cafeteria food wafted over all of the junior high students; the stench was terrible, but the smell of nervous sweaty kids had not yet settled. Trying to forget the fact that no boy would ask an unfamiliar girl to dance, I merrily wove my way through couples, asking many random boys to dance. I tried not to let my voice shake as I asked a simple “Will you dance?” question to all of those scary boys. It seemed weird asking them to dance, but unfortunately it was one of my many new “officer” duties. The weirdest part was the fact that I couldn’t differentiate between ninth eighth and seventh graders yet, everyone was taller than me anyway!

     It was at the first dance that I met the first person that befriended me. Picking at my sporty green skirt, I noticed a girl coming toward me. I didn’t know her at all; I didn’t even know what grade she was in. Well it turns out that “her” name was Heather; she had bright red hair and towered inches above me. Ignoring my shyness, Heather walked up to me and immediately burst into conversation as if she had known me for her whole life. Without further ado she declared,
“You have to dance with my brother!” Somehow she didn’t notice my cheeks turning redder than her hair, or my hand obsessively plucking at my clothing. Trying to imagine how shy or genuinely cowardly her brother must be, I was dragged across the flecked white floor by my arm. Wishing that I could sink through that white floor, I finally met the reason for my embarrassment. I was a bit surprised, he wasn’t as social inept as I assumed he must be, but he gave us both a rather penetrating grey-eyed glare; as if saying,
“Heather, you are dead! Another one?!” Politely, the vivacious red-head demanded that her brother ask me to dance. His reply was short and expected,
“I don’t know her.” Unfortunately, Heather was persistent even though I stood there feeling extremely awkward. After a slight pause, she continued trying to persuade him to do something that he didn’t want to,
“She’s Beth, the new S.B.O., now you do!” Now his glare was completely directed at her, contempt written in every crease between his eyes; somehow she had the strength not to pull her own eyes away as she bluntly stated,
“Tyler, you’re being a jerk.” Tyler's next few words were the first he ever spoke to me,
“Hi, I’m a jerk!” and to my disbelief, “jerk boy” asked me to dance. Despite the rather odd introduction, he turned out to be was a pretty funny kid that I grew to like.

     The next month after the dance, I realized how much I really wanted to have a best friend. One day after my geography class, I pulled a girl to the side and asked her if I could sit by her at lunch, biting my lip and wrestling with mountains of self doubt. We didn’t really know each other, but I thought she was awesome, (just because she played tuba.) Just as I'd expected, she gave me a weird look and replied,
“Um… Okay…” Not sensing her skepticism at having a peppy girl like me ask her that question, I was elated.

      I continued being friends with Jess, and in turn earned three new friends that helped to staunch the loneliness of being a new kid. As if on cue, they began invading our lunch table daily. The first new friend was Jason; he became one of my best friends over time. His dark brown eyes always seemed to smile by themselves, and he was a genuinely nice, down-to earth boy. My second new friend was Caleb. His looks practically defined his personality; bubbly and hyper. It was really easy to spot his bright yellow hair and his loud, childish laugh in a crowd, which wasn’t a bad thing! One of Caleb's favorite hobbies was staring off into space; perhaps he was just secretly thoughtful? His wandering mind made me raise my eyebrows a few times, but despite his sometimes dreamy state, he was still a good friend. The third and last friend that adopted me was Joey, he was a bit short compared to most boys and had a tendency not to worry as much as everyone else. He was unique in a good way. Out of the three of my new friends, Joey was the easiest for me to talk to. He became my friend much more quickly than the other two; it made me smile when he actually laughed at my tacky jokes.

     Now approaching was the third term; the year was almost over. My work as an officer became really tough and time consuming. At the beginning of the year, I had been appointed “historian” in my officer class. That meant that I had to gather all of our schools history and photos and put it into the end-of-year slideshow. For two terms I worked, there was an hour every day dedicated to putting familiar and unfamiliar faces on a screen that everyone would see.
The third term was the fastest by far; I worked diligently at the show, and in the meantime, went to those gross, sweaty wrestling matches. I can’t deny how relieved I began to feel when the lunch bell rang, weekends became my best friend!

     Third term dissolved into fourth term, I cracked down on the slideshow even harder, even skipping half of Lagoon day so that I could work on it. My teachers weren’t lenient on me, but I still loved them all anyway, what’s not to love about people that teach you everything you know?
The best part of the whole year (and the saddest,) was the last week of school. It had come so fast, and I just wasn’t ready for it to be over. There were times when I’d been sad and angry, sure, but the pros outweighed the cons so much that tears filled my eyes once more at the thought of leaving another school.

     There were three notable events in the last week. The first was the ninth grade photos. The photographer took the pictures as the sun was rising in the east, blinding everyone who was attempting to look at the camera. We were all tried to shield our eyes while staring into the heat of the sun for nearly ten minutes. Although that was painful, it wasn’t as painful for us as the poor boy that threw up over the side of the scaffolds. Conveniently that happened as we were taking our final picture as Fairfield Junior High’s ninth grade class.

     The second to last event was the “ninth grade dance” where only the big “ninth graders” themselves were allowed to attend. It was the best night at Fairfield by far! That night, I spent the laughing with my friends Jill, Jeremy, Kyle, and Jordan; we had become really good friends, but only Jeremy and Kyle would be attending the same school as me next year. We all tried our best not to feel sad then, as the full realization hit that we were dancing our last tacky junior high dance away. Brushing aside fears of high school, I couldn’t help being happy. The ninth grade dance was the first dance that anybody had asked me to dance all year!

     Finally the last song of the night came, leaving everyone breathless. My friend Joeycame and found me to ask me to dance, but out of the blue, a crowd of people separated us before I could respond to him. On the other side of the crowd was my friend Caleb who stood on his tip-toes and mouthed, “Do you want to dance?” I just yelled over the crowd,
“Sorry Caleb, I’ve already been asked!” Caleb might have heard me, but the crowd certainly didn’t. In that crowd was a motley crew of boys, heading in my direction. They were pushing a tall and rather embarrassed looking boy in my direction, unexpectedly; he walked up to me and asked shyly,
“Can I have this dance?” I turned beet red and said,
“Sorry. I’ve actually been asked to dance, twice!” Not wanting to turn down another boy, I practically ran over to Joey who was still waiting for a response.

     The last day of school was so short, bringing tears of pleasure and sadness. All students (to my relief,) watched the end of year slideshow in awe, making me feel so much better about my hard work. With only a short time left before the summer, everyone signed year books for a few hours.
After all was said and done, my group of four fantastic friends huddled into our little circle outside the school that we had become so fond of.

     Jess cried more than anyone, and we all tried to comfort her. It was unanimous that ninth grade had been the best experience of our lives so far.

     I learned a lot in ninth grade. I learned how to be a leader, and how mitigate petty drama. I learned how to make friends, I learned to forgive, but I never learned how to forget; how could I forget such a great school? At Fairfield I had learned a lot from my supportive teachers, Mr. Thompson Mrs. B, Mr. Earl. Even better than all of those perhaps, I had finally broken my “shy shell” that had completely enveloped me since elementary school. Finally, and best of all, I had had the best year of my life, I had learned to truly love school.

The Book Box

Another terrible poem, I'll admit. I'm just not good at writing poetry when it's required! Oh well, I think it's fun to give people a good laugh every once in a while!

Tape, boxes, covers, papers, strings.
So many unique and different things!
My mouth opens in silent surprise,
Happiness gleams behind my eyes.

I’ve been waiting for the longest time,
Waiting, waiting for the bell to chime!
When I bring out a pretty, splendid book;
I can’t take it in in just one look.

The pages shine whiter than snow,
So many bindings and covers aglow…
What secrets lie in-between these pages?
They’re filled with robbers, dogs, and mages.

Eagerly I sail sparkling seas;
Beside evil pirates with peg knees!
I feel like I’ll be lost forever,
I just can’t stop reading! Never, never!

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Prom 2009

Prom really was like the best day of my life, I got to have fun with my best friend all afternoon! I was so happy that Wes was nice enough to put up with wearing a purple vest! Not only did he conform to wearing purple, he wore a bow tie (which I just happen to like better than regular ties!)

Aww! Isn't he so cute?

That was probably my favorite picture for some strange reason, I just liked the fact that it was outside and everything was more colorful (even the dead tree.)

Don't you love the look on his face? It took me forever to try to get the boutonniere on, and I was trying so hard not to stab him!

Here's all the girls in my group, aren't they all so pretty? There were some really gorgeous dresses! Two girls even wore the same dress, (I'm pretty sure it was purposefully.)

When I found out that Wes and I were going with a bunch of juniors, I was a little concerned at first. Well, it turns out that I shouldn't have worried at all! I knew some of the kids from marching band, and I'd known one of the girls from a previous soccer team. The girls in our group were all really nice! Prom turned out to be so much fun! The capitol building was totally breath-taking, I'm way glad that I even got asked!

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The Prom Response

     Sometimes I wonder why I keep writing this blog... It's not really an English assignment anymore! I don't know whether it's because I love writing so much, or because it's fun to talk about my life sometimes.

     Pondering the, "Why do I blog?" question my first thoughts were, "because it's like my journal!" secondly "So when my kids are my age they can look back at my life laughing and say, "That's my mom?" and lastly, "In case I ever get Alzheimer's and forget all of this, someone might show it to me so that I can remember something for a few days!"

     Well now is the perfect time to tell a story that I probably won't forget unless I get Alzheimer's. It's a story that I couldn't believe, I ended up feeling about every emotion that I've ever felt in under twenty four hours... I was asked to Prom! Strangely this led to me feeling all happy, ecstatic, unbelieving (in both ways), distressed, sad, and a little guilty. Fortunately it was the good feelings that prevailed in the end.

     I was just sitting downstairs on the couch, feeling very sick. The day that I got asked to prom I had a really bad case of the cold (or something like that.) It was a Monday, but even worse than most normal Monday's I couldn't talk, and my throat killed! The day was not going well, I missed my friends, and I felt like a mess... Until I heard my dad calling my name down the stairs,
"Jojo! Jojo! That door's for you!!" Like many other people who don't want to hear those words when they feel like they're dead, I groaned in a zombieish manner,
"Dad!" I croaked,
"Please don't make me come to the door like this, I sound like a frog and I probably look like one too!" Making up a quick fib to make me come up the stairs anyway my dad replied,
"Sorry Beth, it's your Young Women's leader, and I already told her that you were here." At this point I felt a little upset and sold out. Oh well, she would be the one to suffer seeing me in my currently awful condition! Not wanting to, I dragged myself unhappily up the stairs, my dad was standing by the door that was wide open. For a moment I blinked, I saw the dark grey clouds, I saw my porch and the stairs leading down, but I didn't see a living soul outside my door. Suddenly I realized that maybe my dad had been teasing me to make me come upstairs, so I walked to the door and peered out just to see what his little joke was.

     Well there was something there! A big boulder and a tiny little rock, but that's not what interested me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a paper tied with red ribbon! Why would someone go out of their way to decorate a rock? When I bent down to pick up the smaller rock, there was no mistaking that the note wasn't the only interesting clue. For some reason there was paint on the rocks too! The large rock said, "No" and the smaller one said, "Yes," the note said something different altogether,
"Do you want to have a "Rockin" time at Prom? Let's see if you can make heads or tail of this..." There were sixteen letters scrambled up, but it took me about three seconds to configure the three words that made up his name. That wasn't all that was on the note! No, the next part made me laugh,
"Please respond using these "Rockin" materials... Thank you :)" I smiled and looked at the big "no" rock, shaking my head. How heavy was that thing anyway? What was I supposed to do with a huge boulder anyway? Shortly after discovering how heavy the rock actually was, I walked inside, content to take the note with the small rock instead. For a while I thought of how I could respond cleverly, the note was simple enough,
"Respond with these materials." But was that all? There wasn't really much fun in just following the rules! (I later learned that that might have been better!) Feeling a little stumped, my mom walked in the door after a day of work.
"Mom! I just got asked to Prom!"
"Really?" she replied, excitement radiating just as clearly from her voice.
"Yeah! Can you believe that?" I couldn't help smiling, for some reason I thought I'd never be asked to a dance.
Then it hit me, parents know everything!
"Hey, Mom! How should I respond?"
"Well, we should do something cute! Just putting the "yes" rock would be too... Simple... Do we really want that big rock?" Laughing again at how heavy the miniature boulder was, I tried to imagine lifting it. What was I going to do about it?

     About four hours later I stepped out of my little green ford focus, equipped with my nice pajamas that I'd been wearing that day, a little rock, and a bunch of rock candy. The wind was blowing really hard as my dad grabbed the huge "no" stone.
I looked at my dad in concern,
"Dad, they have translucent curtains in their front room!" My dad brushed that worry off,
"They won't see us."
When we sneaked up to the door, I practically dropped the light little rock. Not only did they have translucent curtains, I could hear voices from inside the house!
"Dad! We better hurry, they could open the door! That would be so stupid!" So without another word my dad set down his heavy load, not wanting to stand on Wes's porch another minute, I treated the rock like I'd treat a burning piece of metal, I practically dropped it on the ground as fast as I could! Together me and my dad bolted to the car, (my dad having done the honors of ringing the doorbell.)
I smiled thinking about what had been done with the rocks as we drove home. The big stone said,
"Wes, are you off your rocker?" while the little rock had a container of cherry flavored rock candy that had a note exclaiming,
"Of course I'll go to Prom with you!" I didn't think for a moment that Wes might not have seen my hastily dropped rock that said "yes" on it!

     The next day at school when I saw my Prom date, he told me a disturbing story that occupied my mind almost all day... When he had opened the door to a cheerful little ring, that little ring hand turned into sheer disappointment! He'd only seen the huge "no!" rock, I'd put the "yes" rock too close to be seen from the door! Even after Wes had taken the horrible looking sign that had said something that could be taken as terribly rude "are you off your rocker?" he didn't realize that there was something more to my response! Well you can imagine how he felt, I know how I would've felt. He dejectedly took the note from the rock and went back inside, wondering why in the world I had said no. It had been over two hours since my response when his mom made him go move the huge rock out of the way of their front door that he ended up finding my real response... Needless to say, it was probably with a little relief that he finally found that I really did want to go!

     Despite that rather sad story, I am so happy that I got asked to prom, and I'm so excited to go! The guy who asked me is so amazing, and he's one of my best friends in the whole world! No matter how everything turns out, I'm really grateful that he asked me.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Have a Nice Trip

     Have you ever had one of those moments where you just can't help feeling completely and utterly stupid and embarrassed? Well, I'm sure you have; I've had some pretty bad ones myself! Well, I thought I would tell you about one, just to get it over with. That way if you ever hear anyone making an "allusion" to past events, then you will understand why I am being made fun of.

     The first embarrassing moment that I'm referring to is my legendary fall in band. You know that quote from Batman?
"Why do we fall, Mr. Wayne? So we can learn to pick ourselves back up!" Well not in my case, my line is more like,
"Why do we fall, Miss Beth? So we can learn how embarrassing it is to fall, and never do it again!" Yeah, my fall wasn't metaphorically, it was literally. Right after our first band competition, Mr. Hendricks made a decision. It was apparent to him that the very last set of the very last movement in our show was very sloppy. So what did he do? He made a completely new set for us! Sure it looked better in the end, but it was a pretty hard set too. Literally, anybody could have pointed me out during that set, even from the stands. It's not hard to spot a very short girl sprinting across the field, carrying an instrument that weighs as much as a baby elephant. Well, sure I might have made it look almost easy for competitions, but the actual learning was the hard part.

     The second to last set was back marching, and most people continued back marching for the last set. For some really stupid reason (and being a complete rookie,) I thought that I had to follow their lead... Even though I was supposed to be going forward, so what did I do? I marched forward, backwards. Do you see where this is going? I trip over everything, even when there is no ice, and even when I'm not carrying a fifty pound instrument. So when I was back marching forwards, something was bound to happen. We had practiced the newly made set probably ten times before my little incident. I was half way running backwards in a forward direction when I completely collapsed. To this day, I can't really explain what happened. One second I was standing tall, the next second I was on my back, flat on the ground. Unfortunately it is impossible to hide a little clumsy mistake when there are practically two hundred kids surrounding you, especially when those directly behind you are obnoxious trombone players that wouldn't miss an opportunity to laugh! Immediately after falling over who-knows-what, I leaped to my feet and ran back to my position (in order not to be trampled.) When at last we finished the set, everyone relaxed; except for me (I was still laughing my head off.) Trying to ignore how embarrassed I felt, I heard people call my name from behind.
"Beth, Beth!" called a chorus of trombone boys,
"Are you okay?!"
Trying not to become any more red that I already was, I turned to face them,
"Uh yeah, my pride is more hurt than myself, thank you very much..."
"Okay, good! Because that was flippin' hilarious!!!" Well as you can imagine, I turned bright crimson, and to avoid further embarrassment, turned face forward to look up at the band director. Needless to say, he was looking down at me from forty feet up in the sky, as if my red face was a lighthouse beacon. He shook his head concernedly at the clumsy girl who was currently failing at turning back to her original color.

About This Girl...

I      was just thinking about it, there are lots of stories and experiences on this blog! But there isn't anything that people could get to know me by, like my favorite color, or my favorite instrument. Here goes!

The Basics
Hair Color: Dirty blonde

Eye Color: Green, grey, and blue!

Height: 5'2-5'3ish

Profession: 10th grade student, and awesome band geek ^_^

Relationship Status: I don't really need a relationship, I love all my friends!

Religious Views: Latter Day Saint

My Favorites
Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Car: Little Green Ford Focuses

Favorite Movie: Movies are like doritoes, you can't pick just one. I like Spiderman, Elf, Prince Caspian, The Counte of Monte Cristo, and Les Miserables. (My favorite cartoon movie is Hercules.)

Favorite Hobby: Soccer

Favorite Song/Singer: Into the dark (DeathCab for Cutie) Sadly I don't like any of their other songs...

Favorite Book/Author: My favorite book that's not in a series is "Once Upon a Marigold." My favorite series is Harry Potter, (especially the seventh.)

Favorite School Subject: English and World Civilzations

Favorite Vacation Destination: Seaside, Oregon. (It is so beautiful!)

Favorite Food: Chicken Enchiladas

Favorite Animal: My favorite zoo animal is a lion, and my favorite animal in general is probably just a dog.

Favorite Store: Barnes and Noble all the way!

Favorite Childhood Memory: Wow, there are so many. Probably playing with Brea in her back yard with her beagles. Or maybe it was when I finished that mini triathalon in fifth grade.

Favorite Baby Names: I can never think of a girl name, but I really like the names Skyler, Rylie, and Christian.

Favorite Person In Your Life: Smiling! Smiling's my favorite! (Notice how I avoided answering that question, pretty smooth huh?)

This or That
Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla

Big Mac or Whopper: Neither, gross!

Coke or Pepsi : Same as above.

Beer or Wine: I will never taste either, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Coffee or Tea: Never tasted either, tea looks pretty gross.

Apple Juice or O.J.: Apple Juice.

Summer or Winter: Summer, (until I get to snowboard)

Cats or Dogs: Dogs all the way!

Rain or Shine : It depends!

Morning or Night: Morning

Movie or Play: Movie

Walk or Drive: Walk

Forgiveness or Revenge: Forgiveness, even though it's harder. (Take a lesson from La Compte de Monte Cristo!)

Paint or Wallpaper: Paint

Do You?
Have Any Pets: Two pomeranians that love to bark!

Have Any Children: Um... If my friends count, I have to act like their mother sometimes, it's all good though!

Smoke: No!

Drink: No!

Exercise: Yes, at least every other day. And my favorite form of excersize is tackling in soccer.

Play On A Sports Team: Yes, go Envy! And I count marching band as a sport, thank you very much!

Belong To Any Organizations: "Who's got the best band anywhere?!" "DHS!!!" "Band dismissed..." "Davis!!!!"

Like To Cook: Mmm hmm! ("Mmm" especially when I have time to cook.)

Play An Instrument: Flute, Piano, Baritone, ocarina, a bit of harmonica, improving on drums, and I can play very little guitar (thank you Jordan!)

Sing: If you want to hear a good impersenation of William Hung, sure!

Dance: At dances, (well duh!) But only with a partner, it's weird dancing by myself.

Speak Multiple Languages: Wo shi Zhong guo ren, wo bu shi Mei guo ren! Haha, totally kidding, but I am trying to learn Chinese. I know a little bit of Spanish too.

Ice Skate: I'm terrible at it!

Swim: Yep! I was on a swim team for three years, and loved almost every minute of it! (Like the sarcasm? It was a love hate relationship.)

Paint: I like to use paint on the computer, but I can't really paint.

Write: Yes, all the time!

Ski: Snowboard

Juggle: I can't!

Have You Ever
Stolen Anything: Never!

Been Drunk Before Noon: Never been drunk ever, not only that, I've never had a sip of alcohol.

Been Arrested: No!

Littered: Not that I can remember, and never purposefully if I did.

Cheated In A Relationship: Never had one, but I wouldn't do that.

Failed A Class: Nope!

Stuck Gum Under A Desk: No, gross!

Wished You Were Someone Else: Yes, someone invisible (at very embarrassing times, I can turn so red!)

Cried During A Movie: Yes, four I believe. Bridge to Terabithia, Charlie, the Joseph Smith movie, and Tuck Everlasting (that was so dumb of me to cry during that one!!)

Describe Yourself In One Word: Me!(haha, really creative huh?)

Biggest Fear: Hurting anyone and vise versa.

Biggest Mistake: Trusting people too easily. I am really gullible, and I believe that everybody tells me the truth all the time.

Your Proudest Accomplishment: Student of the month (Thanks Mr. T!)

#1 Priority In Your Life: I have 3 number one priorities! Family, friends, and church.

Dream Job: Graphic design artist

Special Talents: Instruments, soccer (when I'm awake enough to play,) and designing things.

Where Would You Rather Be: School

Famous Person You Want To Meet: I would rather meet somebody that's died than somebody alive right now.

Place To Visit Before You Die: England

Song Played At Your Funeral: Don't worry, be happy!

Saturday, February 7, 2009

A "Not Your Everyday" Hero Story

     Heroes come in all shapes and forms... Superman, Spiderman, Batman; you know the rest. My favorite out of those three was always spiderman, he was different! He was the underdog, everybody hated him, yet he was so good to them! Not to mention the fact that I can't really relate to a playboy millionaire! Some people might argue that I'm closer to an alien then a nerd, but that's another story...

     I'm not going to talk to you about a Marvel Comic character that's nonexistent. Instead, I'm going to talk to you about a not so average father of two young girls who ended up saving the life of four young boys. Who is this man? Well, my dad of course! My dad did an amazing deed that stumps me to this day, it was so incredible and almost almost inhuman! The boys he saved couldn't believe that they had survived to see the light of another day, and in gratitude to my dad, gave him the nickname of "Superman," which was a very fitting title.

     When I was about two, my family was living in Hawaii, (me, my mom, Josie, and dad; Mike wasn't born yet.) My dad was the assitant leader of eleven year old scouts in our church, along with another man who was the leader; together they took care of the boys. One day they went on an outing along the "Sacred Falls Trail," and that's where everything went wrong.

     There are many small creeks coming from the pool surrounding the Sacred Falls waterfall. Many of these little "creeks" crossed the Sacred Falls trail, the creeks were small; no cause for alarm, and hikers crossed them daily. But not on this day, this was the day when a small creek became a roaring river that almost took many lives in one fell swoop. It had begun to rain as they hiked as a scouting group, the rain falling harder and harder as they walked. When they finally made their first water crossing and one of the boys slipped into the water that was quickly rising. My dad dove in and saved the boy, but they had to keep going. When the group reached the second creek, the leaders assessed that it didn't look too bad. Teaching the boys teamwork and trying to keep them as safe as possible, my dad and the scout leader decided to form a human chain for having a sturdy grip while crossing the river.

     Together the leaders went first, to guide the boys safely to the other side of the crossing... The seven scouts proceeded carefully, but in these weather conditions, carefully was not enough to keep them safe. In the middle of the small river, a boy fell over and broke out of the chain, once again my dad dove into the water and grabbed the boy before he drifted off to far, the little river was beginning to become more rapid. As my dad pulled out the wet boy, events turned to the worst. A huge surge of debri filled water broke the chain of boys and in the blink of an eye, the small creek became a full on flash-flood river. The two leaders suddenly were swimming for their lives in a river going what seemed like ninety miles an hour, trying to grab every boy and flinging them to the side so that they could go on and try to save all of them. My dad swam for not his life, but for the lives of all the boys that might have just had their final scout outing. Just like Superman, he and the other leader managed to pull every single last boy out of the roaring river. Although one of the boys acquired a small injury, that didn't really matter; my dad had just saved the life of every boy there.

     And still, to this day, my dad is too humble to admit his heroism, he protests, "That's what anybody would've done!" Despite his disagreement, I don't really belive that. In my eyes, my dad is truly a hero, whether he admits it or not.

~"Real heroes are rarely in the spotlight; they're often leading strong but silent lives. Real heroes at first look may not seem so; overcoming daily struggles, are the real heroes."