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
Monday, April 27, 2009
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.
Fairfield…
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.
“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.
Fairfield…
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.
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!!)
Other
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."
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The Servant, the Crocodile, and the Boat
This is an odd tale, I rather hope that you can follow it! For Honors English I had to create a story. Not just any story, but a completely made up African Fable that had a moral to it. It was rather easy for me to come up with, although it is incredibly strange. The whole story was based off of the phrase, "Look before you leap." Which seems to be a fairly good moral for all cases and situations.
On one of the hottest days not far from the Nile River, an accident befell the pharaoh’s servant, Chakide; a servant who was not exactly the sharpest stone. For as the servant walked to draw water from a fresh well near the palace, he tripped over a rock, and fell headfirst into the well with a loud splash. Despite the fact that Chakide was rather foolish, he was wise enough to find a way to hold on to the stones of the well to keep himself from drowning. Not conserving the strength he would need to hang on for dear life, he hollered at the top of his lungs for help out of the well. From across the Nile, a young man named Gwala heard the man’s loud pleas of distress.
“Surely this man is in trouble and needs my help!” The young man exclaimed. Rushing to help the poor man in fear, Gwala dived into the Nile to swim across, not looking at the crocodile who licked his lips at the approaching man that he thought looked more like a tasty snack. Luckily Gwala's friend Ngozi the merchant was passing by in small reed boat, and was able to lift Gwala out before it was too late.
“Careful brother, you almost lost a limb!” Laughed Ngozi.
“Well hopefully that man who is calling for help will find some, I’m too shaken to be of any assistance now!”
A sly man known to many as "Abrafo" had been spying on Gwala and his attempt to help the man across the river. He had watched as Ngozi quickly saved his foolish friend from the ravenous crocodile. Hoping to outwit Gwala for his failure, Abrafo leaped farther downstream to swim across. He hoped to get whatever he could out of the poor man in need of help, for exchange of his services. Leaping casually into the water, Abrafo began his swim. Only to be hit by a fast moving boat, that so happened to be the same small reed boat that was oared by Ngozi.
“Careful brother, or else you will be drowned by these boats that cross the waters of the Nile!” Ngozi called down, hoisting Abrafo into his boat.
“That poor man, I wonder who will save him.” Wondered Gwala outloud.
“Hmph!” spat Abrafo, disappointed at his own unclever scheming.
It was then that the lovely Funyanya called out to her father, the boatman, Ngozi.
“Father, can you take me across the river?” asked the bright eyed young woman.
“Anything for you daughter!” Ngozi called back lovingly. Funyanya made it safely across the river, and leaped carefully out of the boat and onto the shore. Quickly she raced to the noisy well, and found the pharaoh’s servant clinging desperately to the side. Without hesitation, she lowered the well’s bucket to the panicked Chakide. Chakide carefully wrapped the rope around himself and held on as Funyanya used the crank to bring him out of the well. When at last he was freed Chakide cried,
“Thank you!”
“It was nothing sir!” replied Funyanya humbly, and wanting to be of further assistance, she advised him,
“I have learned some valuable lessons today, kind sir. Watch your step, and look where you leap! You would be well to remember those words!”
Sunday, January 4, 2009
"Going Out"
Recently I had a talk with a close friend, about a rather peculiar topic for me to discuss. I haven't had any experience in this subject myself yet, but somehow I was able to come up with good advice, from advice that I had been given years before.
The advice I gave was from a lesson that I was given when I was twelve. Even though I'm sixteen now, I haven't forgotten the valuable, impacting lesson, and I don't think I ever will. But just in case I do, or just in case this might help you or someone like my friend, I'm going to tell you a story about an analogy that was shown to me.
One Sunday when I was sitting in my church class, patiently waiting for the lesson to begin. I remember feeling really happy, our piano player was extremely good, and I distantly remember that she was playing some of my favorite hymns. I had just barely become old enough to go to a class called "Young Women's," so I was beginning to enjoy the company of all of the girls surrounding me. As I was sitting there enjoying the music and living life, my new church leader stepped into the classroom. In one hand she was balancing a huge bundle of roses, in the other hand she was holding a slender glass vase with a single rose. They were the prettiest roses I had ever seen, and I can almost recall hearing a collective gasp as the beautiful flowers were set down on the table in front of us. When the lesson started, our leader asked us all a question.
"Now, if I was going to give any of you girls these roses, which would you want? The bundle with all of these different beautiful roses, or just the one rose? Raise your hand for all those who would want the bundle..."
Every hand shot up. She laughed,
"That's what I thought." We sat there in puzzlement, wondering about the significance of the question, which was answered to all of the curious onlookers.
"Well, girls, I'm comparing these roses to people... Not just any people, all people are worth the same amount in God's eyes... But I'm talking about boys. Let's compare these roses here to boys." Roses and boys? What's the connection exactly? That was answered pretty quickly too.
"Girls, boys are like roses. They all have worth to them. They are all different... But how will you know which rose you'll like the best until you look at them all individually and give them each a try? Eventually, we will all just have one rose in our vase, we need to make sure that that rose is the best out of the bundle, the one that we love the most."
I think every teenager could have used that inspirational, heart felt talk. We only have the opportunity to be teenagers once. Why don't we make the best out of it? I've had it pounded into my head by multiple adults, "you will end up marrying who you date." It's true! So why do we have boyfriends and girlfriends? We should give lots of different people a try, not limiting ourselves! Now listen to my analogies on the topic.
What kind of a deprived person do you think you'd be if you only tasted mint flavored ice cream your whole entire life? Think about it, would you want to grow up and have only eaten one flavor? I don't even like mint ice cream, I hardly like mint flavor at all, and if that's the only option of ice cream I'd ever been given my whole life, I just wouldn't eat it! Then why would you only date one person? You never know what type of person you'd like better or have most fun dating unless you try lots of different people!
Last comment on the matter... How happy and satisfied would Cinderella really be if she only gave Prince Charming a chance? How would she even know that he was more charming than every other guy in the first place? I don't believe in love at first sight, you have to know what makes that one person special. Looks aren't everything, there's a lot more to a person. Think about it.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Turn it around
I thought that I'd start the year off with a nice little poem, so I looked for one that was positive; one that has to do with being happy, and turning things around.
Let's start the year off on a nice clean slate everyone! What do you want to accomplish this year? Don't give up on your goals, even if you miss a day. Make 2009 your very best year!
When life becomes more than you can stand
When all you need is a helping hand,
Hands might not be there to help you out
But don't ever give up in your time of doubt.
When the glass seems half empty and dry,
You have to give it another try!
Be happy, see life from a brightside,
Then life's worries will be cast aside.
When drama has reached the highest peak,
I know that life can seem pretty bleak.
Just improve the lives of those around,
Then your own life can be happy and sound.
When friends are filled with the harshest scorns,
Their words can be sharper than rose thorns.
Kill them with kindness, that's what they all need,
Become helping hands through your acts and your deeds.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Personality Test
So I finally got my PSAT back! I didn't do that well on the math (most of it I hadn't learned,) but I did alright on everything else. With my result information, I was told to go to a certain www.collegeboard.com/quickstart to register myself for future help for college and practice tests. While I was searching the site, my dad told me to take a personality quiz on the website. The test is supposed to describe me, and tell me what kind of things I should be looking for in my future profession. It was a really scary, and extremely long personality quiz that was nearly 200 questions. The scariest part was the result... I never thought that I would hear anybody describe me so accurately and well as the personality quiz did! Take a look at my results! If you don't really know me that well, I think you will learn a lot about me from this. And if you do know me well already, this might tell you a lot more about me that you didn't know.
According to this test, I'm similar to a startling 5% personality-wise compared to the rest of our planet. 5% which is a shockingly small percentage compared to the rest of the percentages. They call my personality type ENFZ (which stands for Extroverting, Intuiting, Feeling, Organizing.) In their even simpler words, "The Communicator."
"ENFZs are social, compassionate, and creative. As an ENFZ you take an organized approach to helping others overcome their problems. In fact, you prefer structure and predictability in all your activities. You are particularly concerned with expressing and living up to your personal beliefs and values, and you tend to understand the world in emotional terms. Your attention is most often focused on improving conditions around you. In that regard, you strive for harmony within yourself and peaceful coexistence with others. You value personal growth, authenticity of expression, and loyalty to others.
You like to talk things over with friends and family members, but when you sense potential conflict, you tend to change the subject in order to avoid unpleasant interaction. You care a lot about what people think of you and try to please others through deeds and actions; likewise, you have a deep concern for the welfare of others and enjoy talking with and helping them whenever possible. You make friends easily and quickly share your feelings, opinions, and ideas. Your openness enables you to establish deep and lasting friendships.
Your greatest task is to find a fulfilling path, and once identified you will pursue it to the end. You have an abundance of energy and enthusiasm for your vision, but little patience with those who don't share or support your goals. You excel at communicating ideas verbally, which facilitates your capacity to get along with many different types of people. Your attention is drawn to a broad range of interests and activities: you love to study and learn and can find value in almost any topic although intellectual, theoretical, and spiritual subjects interest you the most.
ENFZs are often found in career fields where they can forge meaningful relationships with people and generate creative solutions that make the world a better place in which to live. As an ENFZ you will be most satisfied and productive when you're involved in work that allows you to work on projects and tasks with other people you like and trust. You are most interested in jobs that allow you to achieve your personal mission."
Strengths include...
Energy, warmth, enthusiasm, and cooperation.
An ability to draw out the best in others.
Efficiency.
A systematic and orderly approach to planning and reaching goals.
A positive attitude.
A commitment to finding mutually beneficial resolutions to problems.
Effectively motivating and leading others.
A sense of personal integrity and high moral standards.
Turning the ideal into reality.
Predicting future trends and seeing potential problems.
Learn Best with...
An energetic and friendly classroom atmosphere.
The big picture rather than the small details.
A focus on issues having important applications for the future.
Group study and personal interaction with others.
Imaginative and people-oriented teachers.
People-related and inspirational topics, such as those within the humanities and social sciences.
Assignments that promote verbal expression.
Topics about how to help others.
When interacting social with others...
Speak with energy and excitement.
Give impromptu responses.
Prefer face-to-face conversation to written communication.
Use metaphors, analogies, and symbols to communicate ideas.
Read between the lines.
Discuss solutions to future problems.
Are persuaded by emotional or personal insight.
Communicate using personal experience to make a point.
In order to maximize potential and decrease weak personal areas...
Monitor and control your emotions.
Let go of plans and ideas that don't work.
Keep dreams and ideas anchored in reality.
Confront conflict early so it doesn't grow into a bigger problem.
Be more cautious when making new friends.
Don't overcommit yourself.
Look at criticism constructively.
Think things through before you react.
I never thought that somebody would know me that well, let alone a computer. Do you think it's accurate? I sure was shocked.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The Stories of King Arthur and Don Quixote
If any of you finish reading this essay, then you are an Arthurian legend! I was rather proud of myself for this one, so bare with me. This was a thirty point part of a test that we had thirty minutes to write, and here was the result; my essay comparing the tales of King Arthur, and the parody Don Quixote (also known as Man of La Mancha.) Good luck, may Excalibur be with you!
Though the lands of La Mancha and Camelot were far apart, the stories of both Don Quixote of La Mancha and King Arthur of Camelot have similar literary concepts. The stories are comparable in that they both involve a type of “courtly love” and romance as well as foils to help give characters defining characteristics.
The Arthurian legends and the parody of Don Quixote still remain popular stories, because they can still inspire and entertain all ages.
In the stories of Don Quixote and Arthur, romance plays a key part. Arthur was born to King Uther and Igraine, parents who were not married at the time that his mother first became pregnant. Although that isn’t exactly considered, “romantic”, the romantic notion of courtly love continued later in Arthur’s life when his best friend “Sir Lancelot” fell in love with his wife, Queen Guinevere. In the novel Don Quixote, Cervante’s concepts of romance are the same, even though they are skewed to make the story more comedic. The “knight errant,” Don Quixote, dedicated himself to a bar-maid whom he barely knew; she wasn’t even a noblewoman as was tradition! Don Quixote’s “courtly love” with Dulcinea was an insanely conceived way for him to try to follow the normal knight “code.”
Despite the fact that his love interest wasn’t exactly ideal, he did worship her from afar, just like Tristan and Iseult, and Lancelot and Guinevere.
A must in all medieval knight legends was the “side kicks” to the main hero, often a squire or a fellow knight. Generally foils were the complete opposite of the hero and lots of times they were everything the hero wasn’t, even though they were best friends or very helpful to their hero counterparts. In the tales of Arthur, Lancelot was the king’s counterpart. Lancelot was not as shining as his idol at first. He was a lonely young nobleman who wanted to prove that his outward appearance would one day be out matched by his skills and talents. He became who he wanted to be (while still an outsider) because of his idol, King Arthur. In Don Quixote, his sidekick (a married peasant and famer,) serves as a perfect squire to his crazy master and counterpart, Don Quixote. The short and plump farmer, who rides on a measly donkey, is completely uneducated, yet he tries to help his master see reality. Sancho provides many opportunities for Don Quixote to have humorous and witty lines that contradict him. It is significant to the comparison of the two tales that Arthur’s best friend became his foil, betraying him and in part, causing his downfall, while Quixotic’s newfound friend and foil, ironically, stays loyal to him until the end.
Even in our twenty-first century society, there are still important parts of literature that almost every story has. There are problems that the heroes have to face, such as Arthur having to punish his wife over his best friend, and Don Quuixote being in love with a “lady” who is a common barmaid. Each individual Arthurian legend, and the novel of Don Quixote contains metaphors, descriptions, details, trials or problems, and at the end, everything is resolved (whether happily or sadly.) Because of Cervante’s, and the many authors of Arthurian tales, wonderful adventures, heroism, love stories, and humor, both stories remain popular to this day.
Overall the stories of King Arthur and Don Quixote were fairly similar. Both stories included lots of romantic and chivalrous drama, as well as character foils to support both the plot and the heroes, and finally, because of the literary techniques and devices, both the heroes and their stories remain well known, highly acclaimed classics of literature.
Though the lands of La Mancha and Camelot were far apart, the stories of both Don Quixote of La Mancha and King Arthur of Camelot have similar literary concepts. The stories are comparable in that they both involve a type of “courtly love” and romance as well as foils to help give characters defining characteristics.
The Arthurian legends and the parody of Don Quixote still remain popular stories, because they can still inspire and entertain all ages. In the stories of Don Quixote and Arthur, romance plays a key part. Arthur was born to King Uther and Igraine, parents who were not married at the time that his mother first became pregnant. Although that isn’t exactly considered, “romantic”, the romantic notion of courtly love continued later in Arthur’s life when his best friend “Sir Lancelot” fell in love with his wife, Queen Guinevere. In the novel Don Quixote, Cervante’s concepts of romance are the same, even though they are skewed to make the story more comedic. The “knight errant,” Don Quixote, dedicated himself to a bar-maid whom he barely knew; she wasn’t even a noblewoman as was tradition! Don Quixote’s “courtly love” with Dulcinea was an insanely conceived way for him to try to follow the normal knight “code.”
Despite the fact that his love interest wasn’t exactly ideal, he did worship her from afar, just like Tristan and Iseult, and Lancelot and Guinevere.A must in all medieval knight legends was the “side kicks” to the main hero, often a squire or a fellow knight. Generally foils were the complete opposite of the hero and lots of times they were everything the hero wasn’t, even though they were best friends or very helpful to their hero counterparts. In the tales of Arthur, Lancelot was the king’s counterpart. Lancelot was not as shining as his idol at first. He was a lonely young nobleman who wanted to prove that his outward appearance would one day be out matched by his skills and talents. He became who he wanted to be (while still an outsider) because of his idol, King Arthur. In Don Quixote, his sidekick (a married peasant and famer,) serves as a perfect squire to his crazy master and counterpart, Don Quixote. The short and plump farmer, who rides on a measly donkey, is completely uneducated, yet he tries to help his master see reality. Sancho provides many opportunities for Don Quixote to have humorous and witty lines that contradict him. It is significant to the comparison of the two tales that Arthur’s best friend became his foil, betraying him and in part, causing his downfall, while Quixotic’s newfound friend and foil, ironically, stays loyal to him until the end.
Even in our twenty-first century society, there are still important parts of literature that almost every story has. There are problems that the heroes have to face, such as Arthur having to punish his wife over his best friend, and Don Quuixote being in love with a “lady” who is a common barmaid. Each individual Arthurian legend, and the novel of Don Quixote contains metaphors, descriptions, details, trials or problems, and at the end, everything is resolved (whether happily or sadly.) Because of Cervante’s, and the many authors of Arthurian tales, wonderful adventures, heroism, love stories, and humor, both stories remain popular to this day.
Overall the stories of King Arthur and Don Quixote were fairly similar. Both stories included lots of romantic and chivalrous drama, as well as character foils to support both the plot and the heroes, and finally, because of the literary techniques and devices, both the heroes and their stories remain well known, highly acclaimed classics of literature.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Game Time!
I wanted to have a bit of fun on my blog, so let's play a game, shall we? I'm going to put ten movie quotes from either my favorite movies, or movies that I like. I'll start out easy, and then I'll get harder. You can just post your guesses on comments!(I'll delete them later so other people can't use them.) So for now just write your guesses on a paper, good luck! When you are done guessing, look at the very bottom of my blog to complete the game.
1. "The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the Goblin and took the spider out. "
2. "I just like smiling, smiling's my favorite!"
3. "I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day."
4. "Stop it!" "Apologize to Lucy... Say you're sorry!!"
5. "Who are you, and why are you doing this?"
"We are bad men, and for the money!"
6. "What did I do? What did YOU do? Think of home? That was a GREAT plan! You thought of your home and I thought of mine and now we're halfway between the two!"
7. "Promise me something." "Anything, sir!" "Never try to save my life again."
8. "Oh my gosh he's so cute." "Who said that?!" "Um, sorry."
9. "WAIT FOR ME WAIT FOR ME"! [Two others teenagers stop, and look at her]
"Wait. Wait. No, not you - I don't even know you!"
10. "Slap it... Shoot it... Kaboot it."
Let's see how you did!
1. "The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the Goblin and took the spider out. "
2. "I just like smiling, smiling's my favorite!"
3. "I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day."
4. "Stop it!" "Apologize to Lucy... Say you're sorry!!"
5. "Who are you, and why are you doing this?"
"We are bad men, and for the money!"
6. "What did I do? What did YOU do? Think of home? That was a GREAT plan! You thought of your home and I thought of mine and now we're halfway between the two!"
7. "Promise me something." "Anything, sir!" "Never try to save my life again."
8. "Oh my gosh he's so cute." "Who said that?!" "Um, sorry."
9. "WAIT FOR ME WAIT FOR ME"! [Two others teenagers stop, and look at her]
"Wait. Wait. No, not you - I don't even know you!"
10. "Slap it... Shoot it... Kaboot it."
Let's see how you did!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Traditional Christmas Stories
All these stories were on my blog last year, but I thought that I'd repost them in time for Christmas. Enjoy!
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, mommy?" 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 for a final time, and then 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! The next one is a really cute story that involves my little brother, Mitch.
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 Mitch 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 told my dad what had happened. My dad was also heart broken to see his own little boy so sad. He took Mitch up to the lost and found and told the workers about the money that Mike had lost. After hearing my dad's case, the employee spoke on the loud speaker.
"A little boy has lost eleven dollars that he has saved to buy Christmas presents. If anyone finds it, please bring it to the lost and found, thank you." I'm sure that there were plenty of dishonest people that went looking for the money after that revealing announcement; many probably just so that they could put it into their own wallets. But who knows what really happened to the money that Mitch dropped? Most likely it was found by one of those people who wanted it for themselves, but that's not important. Just after the employee finished his sentence over the intercom, the Sam's Club Santa Clause came jogging towards us. He was probably just an old man trying to earn a little money for the holidays by dressing up and holding little kids, but he gave up his own earnings to help an adorable little boy that he had never met.
"Here you go little guy," said Santa, bending down on one knee so that he could be level with my brother,
"I found your money!" He then proceeded to hand my brother eleven dollars. We could all see that my dad felt a lump in his throat as he whispered,
"Thank you."
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 Mitch lost his money. That money could belong to a poor little kid like Mitch! 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!
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, mommy?" 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 for a final time, and then 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! The next one is a really cute story that involves my little brother, Mitch.
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 Mitch 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 told my dad what had happened. My dad was also heart broken to see his own little boy so sad. He took Mitch up to the lost and found and told the workers about the money that Mike had lost. After hearing my dad's case, the employee spoke on the loud speaker.
"A little boy has lost eleven dollars that he has saved to buy Christmas presents. If anyone finds it, please bring it to the lost and found, thank you." I'm sure that there were plenty of dishonest people that went looking for the money after that revealing announcement; many probably just so that they could put it into their own wallets. But who knows what really happened to the money that Mitch dropped? Most likely it was found by one of those people who wanted it for themselves, but that's not important. Just after the employee finished his sentence over the intercom, the Sam's Club Santa Clause came jogging towards us. He was probably just an old man trying to earn a little money for the holidays by dressing up and holding little kids, but he gave up his own earnings to help an adorable little boy that he had never met.
"Here you go little guy," said Santa, bending down on one knee so that he could be level with my brother,
"I found your money!" He then proceeded to hand my brother eleven dollars. We could all see that my dad felt a lump in his throat as he whispered,
"Thank you."
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 Mitch lost his money. That money could belong to a poor little kid like Mitch! 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!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Happy Holidays!
Yeah, it is pretty late at night so sorry if there are any errors in this. But I've just been thinking about the things I'm grateful for for the past few weeks. I came up with quite a list. As of today we officially finished marching band with a big party, which was quite fun. I was able to see all the people who worked hard receive awards for all the time and effort that they put into marching band, I was truly proud of my classmates. I'm really grateful that I was able to be a part of the massive band that had over two hundred kids, (even though we lost every competition to American Fork.)
I'm really grateful for my friends who can always make me laugh, even when I feel like I'm never going to laugh again. I'm thankful for the great friends that I have that are willing to lift me up when I fall, and be my crutches when I limp. They make life a lot easier to live, and give my life something worth living for.
I'm grateful for my family who are willing to put up with all my faults and flaws; trust me, I have many. I'm grateful that they are willing to do anything, and the fact that they are willing to do what they think is best for me (no matter how much I protest.) I appreciate that they are completely honest with me, and help me improve so that I can grow up and be a self reliant, "grown up."
I'm thankful for the opportunity to go to school. School is basically my life, and I don't know what I'd do without it! I actually enjoy waking up to every school day (even though I was happy for the break this week.) It gives me a good reason to wake up every day, and it gives me a good reason for working hard.
I'm grateful for the armed forces. Even though I love speaking my new developing language (Chinese), I will still remain patriotic to America. I'm especially glad that America isn't communist like so many other countries. We are blessed with so much freedom, and there are young men and women all over the world, fighting so that we can continue living as we do now; in a safe environment with roofs over our heads.
I'm grateful that I have religion in my life. Without it, I don't know who or where I'd be. Just going to church and being there encourages me to be better and to do better than I'm already doing, even when life is being really tough on me. Church teaches me to have more compassion, to be more giving, and encourages me to be a good example to others.
Now that I've told you a few things that I'm grateful for (and trust me, I could write a list that contains hundreds of things.)Now stop and think about what I've said. What are you grateful for? Keep those thoughts, the first thoughts that popped into your head when you thought of what you are grateful for. Those thoughts will give you strength when you are having a hard time, so keep them in your heart for as long as you can; and at least every day until Thanksgiving is over. Happy Holidays!
I'm really grateful for my friends who can always make me laugh, even when I feel like I'm never going to laugh again. I'm thankful for the great friends that I have that are willing to lift me up when I fall, and be my crutches when I limp. They make life a lot easier to live, and give my life something worth living for.
I'm grateful for my family who are willing to put up with all my faults and flaws; trust me, I have many. I'm grateful that they are willing to do anything, and the fact that they are willing to do what they think is best for me (no matter how much I protest.) I appreciate that they are completely honest with me, and help me improve so that I can grow up and be a self reliant, "grown up."
I'm thankful for the opportunity to go to school. School is basically my life, and I don't know what I'd do without it! I actually enjoy waking up to every school day (even though I was happy for the break this week.) It gives me a good reason to wake up every day, and it gives me a good reason for working hard.
I'm grateful for the armed forces. Even though I love speaking my new developing language (Chinese), I will still remain patriotic to America. I'm especially glad that America isn't communist like so many other countries. We are blessed with so much freedom, and there are young men and women all over the world, fighting so that we can continue living as we do now; in a safe environment with roofs over our heads.
I'm grateful that I have religion in my life. Without it, I don't know who or where I'd be. Just going to church and being there encourages me to be better and to do better than I'm already doing, even when life is being really tough on me. Church teaches me to have more compassion, to be more giving, and encourages me to be a good example to others.
Now that I've told you a few things that I'm grateful for (and trust me, I could write a list that contains hundreds of things.)Now stop and think about what I've said. What are you grateful for? Keep those thoughts, the first thoughts that popped into your head when you thought of what you are grateful for. Those thoughts will give you strength when you are having a hard time, so keep them in your heart for as long as you can; and at least every day until Thanksgiving is over. Happy Holidays!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Sonnet 1 Does he love me?
For Honors English, we had to write a sonnet. Yeah, that's right, a sonnet! A poem that is as mushy gushy as you can make it! Sounds fun right? It's not my normal style of writing that's for sure... When I mention "azure" eyes I'm not really thinking of one specific person. This is written in the basic Shakespearean format, "ABAB CDCD FGFG HH." Every line should have ten syllables if my calculations remain correct. The first eight are meant to be a question, line eight is the transition, and the rest are of the lines are the answer. Enjoy!
As the leaves of fall descend upon me,
A new love blooms like the blossoms of spring.
Was it meant for this blooming love to be?
My heart is mending like an old bird’s wing.
A once broken heart is once again whole.
I look into his eyes in puzzlement,
His azure eyes are windows to his soul.
Does he feel the same, this angel heav’n sent?
Sighing, I hope, begging the stars to know.
Our love is not seen or heard, only felt;
Springing up from the ground where seeds do sow.
His eyes drift away, I feel my heart melt.
What can be, what may be, cannot be told,
I love his heart which is as pure as gold.
As the leaves of fall descend upon me,
A new love blooms like the blossoms of spring.
Was it meant for this blooming love to be?
My heart is mending like an old bird’s wing.
A once broken heart is once again whole.
I look into his eyes in puzzlement,
His azure eyes are windows to his soul.
Does he feel the same, this angel heav’n sent?
Sighing, I hope, begging the stars to know.
Our love is not seen or heard, only felt;
Springing up from the ground where seeds do sow.
His eyes drift away, I feel my heart melt.
What can be, what may be, cannot be told,
I love his heart which is as pure as gold.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Halloween Dance!
Well I must say that this was the best date that I've ever been on! (Well it is the only one I've been on...) But still, yesterday I went to the Halloween Dance and had a ball! (Literally) So, enjoy the pictures!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Marching Band
If any of you are fans of my blog, I apologize. I have not posted anything in nearly two months. Yes, that is my fault, I am the author of course. It's not that I don't want to post, it's just that I don't have time. It seems like my life isn't about me anymore; it's about "the band." What band? One of the country's best marching bands! Every day after school over two hundred kids get together to be yelled at and do push-ups for three hours straight. But to tell you the truth, it isn't as bad as it sounds. Although my life's priorities are a little mixed up with marching band taking up all my time, I can't deny that I love every minute of it.
Now I've had a few people ask me, "What do you guys do?" I just respond simply, "Work on our field show of course." As if everyone would instantly know what I was talking about... Well I've come to find out that generally when people grin and nod, they don't really understand. So for everyones sake (yes, you too Mojo,) I've posted a link to where you can see our crazy "field show." It's really fun to watch, and even funner to march! So just click on the top of the youtube link that I've posted to see what band kids consider something worth sweating over.
I'm sorry if the show doesn't load on your computer, sometimes it loads very slowly, and sometimes it doesn't load at all.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Compass Course
Yesterday while I was on vacation, my dad called me. He said some words I was surprised to hear,
I’m sure you’ve all heard common quotes on life such as “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.” Or sillier ones like “Life is like an onion: You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.” Or, “Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it depends on what you put into it.”
But, recently, I have come to discover that life is also like a compass course, you have to make many decisions as you try to go in the direction that you think you want to go; and when you reach that destination, sometimes you discover that the place you’ve finally reached is yet another fork in the road! Life is a place of agency where you choose your own course and have to make many different and sometimes difficult decisions.
Life is like a road, and you are the driver of your own self-propelled vehicle. You decide where you’re going and how fast you are going to get there.
But if we are in charge of our own lives, then why do we need compasses? What is the purpose of a little magnetic compass with four different directions? Which way are we supposed to go? And better yet, which way are we trying to go?
Sometimes a compass can be confusing, when you are continually being told to go north by the rest of the world because “everyone’s doing it,” and as you try to follow others instead of your own path, you may find yourself running into a tree, or running off of a cliff both physically and spiritually. There are many people that will try to direct and guide you throughout your trail called, “life,” and there are only a few directions you can take to follow the right path to the destination that you truly want to end up.
A simple song that we have been singing since we were primary children, and continue to sing today, is “Choose the Right.” It may sound like a simple enough song as you quietly and reverently sing it, but if you listen to the actual words, they mean much more than we realize.
“Choose the right when a choice is placed before you. In the right the Holy Spirit guides;” What does the song mean by “In the right the holy spirit guides?” It means that the Holy Spirit is always right! He will always try to lead you down the right and happy path. Despite what others may say, the Holy Ghost will guide you in the right direction every time.
The song then continues: “And its light is forever shining over you”. As long as you are choosing the right and trying your hardest to point your compass towards Him, you will feel his light shining in yourself and those you surround yourself with.
And the first verse finishes with, “When in the right your heart confides…” all you have to do is try to do the right thing! Let your heart confide in things that are good!
“Choose the right! There is peace in righteous doing.” What is the definition for peace? I found several simple descriptions that all sound pretty good to me.
“Freedom from war.”
“Tranquility,” meaning a calm and quiet state.
“Mental Calm,” with no anxiety.
“And Law and Order,” the absence of violence; a freedom from disturbances. That choosing the right path is starting to sound good now, huh? But the song isn’t finished yet.
“Choose the right! There’s safety for the soul.” Being safe is being “unharmed” and “undamaged,” our soul is not our physical body. Our soul is what’s left of us after we die. It’s the essence of our nature, and our distinctive character without a body. That means that if we choose the right, we will be safe from damage and harm, but not just in this life, forever!
Now, we know all the great things we can be blessed with if we choose to follow the “right” path. But, what exactly is our goal? The goal of choosing the right, isn’t always being right. Yet again, the song tells you what you can do, “Choose the Right” finally tells us where our compass should be pointed and magnetized to. “Choose the right in all labors you’re pursuing; Let God and heaven be your goal.”
I really enjoyed youth conference this year. It had a much more personal level with just our ward there. We had good activities which included swimming in an ice cold lake, orienteering up and over steep hills, and ending in one of the most spiritual experiences that I’ve ever had in my life. I was really grateful for the opportunity to go, and I thank the leaders for planning and putting together such fun activities.
"Hey Beth, the bishop just called." I just sat there thinking ,
"That's strange, I wonder what for?" So I thought my questions out loud over the phone,
"Why dad?"
"He wants you to give a talk in sacrament meeting tomorrow." I started feeling a little nervous. I replied to my dad's comment,
"Tomorrow? He wants me to write and be ready for a talk tomorrow? Wow, that's not much notice."
"That's what he said, he wants you to talk about youth conference. And about the orienteering compass course you went on, and how that relates to church and things in general." Compasses! My talk was on compasses, and I was a little confused on where I could even start. Not to mention I was on vacation all day long! I was getting home from vacation around three o'clock, and then I had two birthday parties to go to! Needless to say, my feelings of "not enough time" and dread for this talk dramatically increased when I got home at 9:00 P.M.! Luckily it seemed to turn out alright. People seemed to like it well, so I'll publish it in case you want to read it! If you're not religious, it's okay if you don't read it! It's just that this blog is like my journal, and I want to remember all the talks I give.
Good morning! Today I was asked to give a talk relating to an orienteering course that we conquered at youth conference this past week. I will also talk on how we are supposed to use life’s compasses.
Good morning! Today I was asked to give a talk relating to an orienteering course that we conquered at youth conference this past week. I will also talk on how we are supposed to use life’s compasses.
I’m sure you’ve all heard common quotes on life such as “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.” Or sillier ones like “Life is like an onion: You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.” Or, “Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it depends on what you put into it.”
But, recently, I have come to discover that life is also like a compass course, you have to make many decisions as you try to go in the direction that you think you want to go; and when you reach that destination, sometimes you discover that the place you’ve finally reached is yet another fork in the road! Life is a place of agency where you choose your own course and have to make many different and sometimes difficult decisions.
Life is like a road, and you are the driver of your own self-propelled vehicle. You decide where you’re going and how fast you are going to get there.
But if we are in charge of our own lives, then why do we need compasses? What is the purpose of a little magnetic compass with four different directions? Which way are we supposed to go? And better yet, which way are we trying to go?
Sometimes a compass can be confusing, when you are continually being told to go north by the rest of the world because “everyone’s doing it,” and as you try to follow others instead of your own path, you may find yourself running into a tree, or running off of a cliff both physically and spiritually. There are many people that will try to direct and guide you throughout your trail called, “life,” and there are only a few directions you can take to follow the right path to the destination that you truly want to end up.
A simple song that we have been singing since we were primary children, and continue to sing today, is “Choose the Right.” It may sound like a simple enough song as you quietly and reverently sing it, but if you listen to the actual words, they mean much more than we realize.
“Choose the right when a choice is placed before you. In the right the Holy Spirit guides;” What does the song mean by “In the right the holy spirit guides?” It means that the Holy Spirit is always right! He will always try to lead you down the right and happy path. Despite what others may say, the Holy Ghost will guide you in the right direction every time.
The song then continues: “And its light is forever shining over you”. As long as you are choosing the right and trying your hardest to point your compass towards Him, you will feel his light shining in yourself and those you surround yourself with.
And the first verse finishes with, “When in the right your heart confides…” all you have to do is try to do the right thing! Let your heart confide in things that are good!
“Choose the right! There is peace in righteous doing.” What is the definition for peace? I found several simple descriptions that all sound pretty good to me.
“Freedom from war.”
“Tranquility,” meaning a calm and quiet state.
“Mental Calm,” with no anxiety.
“And Law and Order,” the absence of violence; a freedom from disturbances. That choosing the right path is starting to sound good now, huh? But the song isn’t finished yet.
“Choose the right! There’s safety for the soul.” Being safe is being “unharmed” and “undamaged,” our soul is not our physical body. Our soul is what’s left of us after we die. It’s the essence of our nature, and our distinctive character without a body. That means that if we choose the right, we will be safe from damage and harm, but not just in this life, forever!
Now, we know all the great things we can be blessed with if we choose to follow the “right” path. But, what exactly is our goal? The goal of choosing the right, isn’t always being right. Yet again, the song tells you what you can do, “Choose the Right” finally tells us where our compass should be pointed and magnetized to. “Choose the right in all labors you’re pursuing; Let God and heaven be your goal.”
I really enjoyed youth conference this year. It had a much more personal level with just our ward there. We had good activities which included swimming in an ice cold lake, orienteering up and over steep hills, and ending in one of the most spiritual experiences that I’ve ever had in my life. I was really grateful for the opportunity to go, and I thank the leaders for planning and putting together such fun activities.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
A Dose of Misery
As of last month, my Summer was going great! I woke up at five thirty every morning; I then practiced my instrument, got ready, and went straight to 7:00 marching band. Everything was going great! I got to see my friends occasionally (which was more than during the busy school season,) and everything just seemed to be going so well. When disaster struck a fatal blow to my Summer. I received my nastiest most crippling injury in my life.
The way I'm going to describe it probably won't sound bad, but everyone is shocked by what my foot actually looks like now. Almost every layer of skin on my left foot was scraped off, and on the right I have blisters the size of Texas. Now you are probably in curious shock, "What were you doing?!?" It all starts and end with two words "marching band."
Some kids think that "band kids" are "nerds." I disagree strongly with that (well maybe because I'm in the band,) but our dorky outfits for band prove that common stereotype. We wear these scientific shirts that say "Matter" and underneath it says "Vapor, Liquid, Solid." Well that is just the first bit, we must tuck the shirts into our brown Davis High shorts! Yet that's not the worst part, it's the shoes! They look like something my brother would wear to church, and they are the most uncomfortable shoes that I've been forced to wear (well they're the only shoes I've ever been forced to wear, but still.) When I ordered my shoes I thought I'd have no problem wearing my normal shoe size 6 1/2, boy was I wrong! I picked up the shoes in the band room and tried them on. They were about an inch longer than my foot, but that didn't seem to be the problem. They were so narrow! Looking at my friend Aubree as I tied my shoe laces I inquired, "Wow, Aub, are these supposed to be so tight? I have duck feet!" She merely replied, "Yeah, that's how they all are! That's how they're supposed to be!" Putting my faith in her I took the shoes home.
That's where the injury came from, my little marching band shoes. I was trying to break them in on Monday during the parade route. Little did I realize that that was a horrible idea! I've never really worn anything other than tennis shoes! So I marched along in the neighborhood next to Barnes Park for about an hour enduring a pain that I'd never felt before in my life.
I was walking along next to my friend Jason in the parade, and I was not having very much fun. My feet seemed to be on fire from the sun! It was about 100 degrees that day, and I was feeling the heat on my feet. Or so I thought. Steadily the heat rose in my foot, but I wasn't about to break every rule I'd learned in marching band. Rule #1 was not to break attention, ever. That meant no looking around, or breaking out of line. The heat went on for about 45 minutes, when I realized it wasn't heat, it was pure pain! I tried not to limp, I tried to look up and stay in my line, until I couldn't stand it anymore. Like many people who had messed up during a song, I ran to the side of the road and did push ups. I forced myself to do push ups for not walking in the rank very well, then I would try to adjust my socks a little. Adjusting socks didn't help, and it hurt even worse when I had to run the length of a football field to get back in my position.
When the pain was about to make me scream, I gave up. I sprinted to the side and tore my shoes off. Tying them together, I slung them over my shoulder and ran back into position next to my fellow baritone players. Jason laughed at me, "Why were you doing push ups?" I just whispered back, "Well.... For multiple reasons." Not wanting to get caught talking, I rejoiced in the freedom of my aching foot, then continued marching the next hour.
When we got back to Barnes Park, I decided to assess the damage... I could never have imagined the pain that I'd forced myself to endure. I thought it was just the sun! So I lifted my sock up a ways and looked down. Jason was still standing next to me, and you should've seen the look on his face, "Oh, woah, ow!" I closed my eyes trying not to throw up and disgustedly repeated the last word Jason had said, "Ow....."
When I got home I took my socks off and called down the stairs to my brother. "Mitch, it's practically eleven o'clock! Wake up!" He woke up and came up the stairs. I told him what had happened and showed him my lovely foot. His eyes practically popped out of his head. "I'm calling mom, now!" So my brother called my mom, "Mom, Beth has really bad blisters...." my mom was at work in Salt Lake, "Okay I'll do what I can when I get home, Mitch, there's nothing I can do from here."
When my mom came home she demanded to see my foot. I calmly obliged, and all calmness was instantly extinguished, "OH MY GOSH!!!! Oh eww!!!! Beth, what the heck did you do?!? This isn't a blister, this moleskin isn't going to cut it! We are taking you to the doctor, now!" Hating to go to the doctor, I tried to reason with my mom, "What?!? The doctor? Isn't that a little drastic mom? It's not THAT bad." my mom's reply seemed a lot less enthusiastic than mine, "Don't get me started!" So with that being said, I was taken to a medical clinic.
When we got there, my mom offered me help walking to the door. "Do you need help walking?" still refusing to think my injuries were "THAT bad," I refused her help and limped through the doors. Finally when the doctors were ready to see me, they brought me through some terribly clean white doors. The nurse proceeded to tell me to sit down on the cold, metal, medical table thing, and said that she would "be right back." Well she came back, right back after a good six minutes, by then I was getting a little impatient.... Which was nothing like the anger that welled up inside me at the nurses next few words. As she looked at my foot from across the room with her clip board, she studied my heel like it was a fiery monster. "Oh," she said feebly, "Is that a band aid?" My mom looked at her, and the nurses eyebrows shot up into her head, "That's the skin?!?!?! Oh wow! Oh wow wow wow!" This whole time I was thinking, "This is the nurse..... Is this how she's supposed to be acting? Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this?..... She sure knows how to make a patient feel better....." Without looking at my foot again the nurse asked my mom a few questions, "What happened?" And no matter who I tell the story, I always get the same reaction, "How could a shoe even do that? How's that even possible?"
As quickly as she could the nurse sent me to the more ominous doctor. After waiting on another cold metal table for ten minutes, the doctor came in. He wasn't that impressive of a sight, but apparently my heel was an impressive sight to him. It reminded me of dissection in science class this year. He just stared and stared at my foot, observing every detail as if he were completely fascinated. He asked my mom all the same time wasting questions as the nurse. The doctor also had a way of making me feel a whole lot better about my predicament, at one point bringing me to tears. "Well, that's a good injury we've got here.... That's like something you'd see in the pioneer days!" When I told him about how it had happened at band, and how I was breaking in shoes for the parade on the fourth of July, he gave me a terrible response for a "band geek," "It's a miracle that you are even walking. You shouldn't be able to swim for about a month. You've got a parade on Friday? There's no way in the world that that will happen!"
I didn't cry from pain, I didn't cry from being told that I had to go to the doctor, but I couldn't help my eyes watering when I was told that the thing I'd been working so hard for all summer was "not going to happen." The doctor ordered, a dose of misery on my Summer.
But it's been okay. It's hurt a little here and there, it's a little painful to walk. But all of that bad stuff doesn't really matter to me, I'm just grateful that I'm not dying. I feel a lot worse for the people living in Africa. And with my friends coming to my house on Tuesday to visit, my perspective is turning brighter. Even though I can't run or play sports, I still have the most caring family and friends, and that has made all the difference.
Yep, that's my foot! That's before it swelled and turned all red! It looks prettier there for your own convenience.
The way I'm going to describe it probably won't sound bad, but everyone is shocked by what my foot actually looks like now. Almost every layer of skin on my left foot was scraped off, and on the right I have blisters the size of Texas. Now you are probably in curious shock, "What were you doing?!?" It all starts and end with two words "marching band."
Some kids think that "band kids" are "nerds." I disagree strongly with that (well maybe because I'm in the band,) but our dorky outfits for band prove that common stereotype. We wear these scientific shirts that say "Matter" and underneath it says "Vapor, Liquid, Solid." Well that is just the first bit, we must tuck the shirts into our brown Davis High shorts! Yet that's not the worst part, it's the shoes! They look like something my brother would wear to church, and they are the most uncomfortable shoes that I've been forced to wear (well they're the only shoes I've ever been forced to wear, but still.) When I ordered my shoes I thought I'd have no problem wearing my normal shoe size 6 1/2, boy was I wrong! I picked up the shoes in the band room and tried them on. They were about an inch longer than my foot, but that didn't seem to be the problem. They were so narrow! Looking at my friend Aubree as I tied my shoe laces I inquired, "Wow, Aub, are these supposed to be so tight? I have duck feet!" She merely replied, "Yeah, that's how they all are! That's how they're supposed to be!" Putting my faith in her I took the shoes home.
That's where the injury came from, my little marching band shoes. I was trying to break them in on Monday during the parade route. Little did I realize that that was a horrible idea! I've never really worn anything other than tennis shoes! So I marched along in the neighborhood next to Barnes Park for about an hour enduring a pain that I'd never felt before in my life.
I was walking along next to my friend Jason in the parade, and I was not having very much fun. My feet seemed to be on fire from the sun! It was about 100 degrees that day, and I was feeling the heat on my feet. Or so I thought. Steadily the heat rose in my foot, but I wasn't about to break every rule I'd learned in marching band. Rule #1 was not to break attention, ever. That meant no looking around, or breaking out of line. The heat went on for about 45 minutes, when I realized it wasn't heat, it was pure pain! I tried not to limp, I tried to look up and stay in my line, until I couldn't stand it anymore. Like many people who had messed up during a song, I ran to the side of the road and did push ups. I forced myself to do push ups for not walking in the rank very well, then I would try to adjust my socks a little. Adjusting socks didn't help, and it hurt even worse when I had to run the length of a football field to get back in my position.
When the pain was about to make me scream, I gave up. I sprinted to the side and tore my shoes off. Tying them together, I slung them over my shoulder and ran back into position next to my fellow baritone players. Jason laughed at me, "Why were you doing push ups?" I just whispered back, "Well.... For multiple reasons." Not wanting to get caught talking, I rejoiced in the freedom of my aching foot, then continued marching the next hour.
When we got back to Barnes Park, I decided to assess the damage... I could never have imagined the pain that I'd forced myself to endure. I thought it was just the sun! So I lifted my sock up a ways and looked down. Jason was still standing next to me, and you should've seen the look on his face, "Oh, woah, ow!" I closed my eyes trying not to throw up and disgustedly repeated the last word Jason had said, "Ow....."
When I got home I took my socks off and called down the stairs to my brother. "Mitch, it's practically eleven o'clock! Wake up!" He woke up and came up the stairs. I told him what had happened and showed him my lovely foot. His eyes practically popped out of his head. "I'm calling mom, now!" So my brother called my mom, "Mom, Beth has really bad blisters...." my mom was at work in Salt Lake, "Okay I'll do what I can when I get home, Mitch, there's nothing I can do from here."
When my mom came home she demanded to see my foot. I calmly obliged, and all calmness was instantly extinguished, "OH MY GOSH!!!! Oh eww!!!! Beth, what the heck did you do?!? This isn't a blister, this moleskin isn't going to cut it! We are taking you to the doctor, now!" Hating to go to the doctor, I tried to reason with my mom, "What?!? The doctor? Isn't that a little drastic mom? It's not THAT bad." my mom's reply seemed a lot less enthusiastic than mine, "Don't get me started!" So with that being said, I was taken to a medical clinic.
When we got there, my mom offered me help walking to the door. "Do you need help walking?" still refusing to think my injuries were "THAT bad," I refused her help and limped through the doors. Finally when the doctors were ready to see me, they brought me through some terribly clean white doors. The nurse proceeded to tell me to sit down on the cold, metal, medical table thing, and said that she would "be right back." Well she came back, right back after a good six minutes, by then I was getting a little impatient.... Which was nothing like the anger that welled up inside me at the nurses next few words. As she looked at my foot from across the room with her clip board, she studied my heel like it was a fiery monster. "Oh," she said feebly, "Is that a band aid?" My mom looked at her, and the nurses eyebrows shot up into her head, "That's the skin?!?!?! Oh wow! Oh wow wow wow!" This whole time I was thinking, "This is the nurse..... Is this how she's supposed to be acting? Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this?..... She sure knows how to make a patient feel better....." Without looking at my foot again the nurse asked my mom a few questions, "What happened?" And no matter who I tell the story, I always get the same reaction, "How could a shoe even do that? How's that even possible?"
As quickly as she could the nurse sent me to the more ominous doctor. After waiting on another cold metal table for ten minutes, the doctor came in. He wasn't that impressive of a sight, but apparently my heel was an impressive sight to him. It reminded me of dissection in science class this year. He just stared and stared at my foot, observing every detail as if he were completely fascinated. He asked my mom all the same time wasting questions as the nurse. The doctor also had a way of making me feel a whole lot better about my predicament, at one point bringing me to tears. "Well, that's a good injury we've got here.... That's like something you'd see in the pioneer days!" When I told him about how it had happened at band, and how I was breaking in shoes for the parade on the fourth of July, he gave me a terrible response for a "band geek," "It's a miracle that you are even walking. You shouldn't be able to swim for about a month. You've got a parade on Friday? There's no way in the world that that will happen!"
I didn't cry from pain, I didn't cry from being told that I had to go to the doctor, but I couldn't help my eyes watering when I was told that the thing I'd been working so hard for all summer was "not going to happen." The doctor ordered, a dose of misery on my Summer.
But it's been okay. It's hurt a little here and there, it's a little painful to walk. But all of that bad stuff doesn't really matter to me, I'm just grateful that I'm not dying. I feel a lot worse for the people living in Africa. And with my friends coming to my house on Tuesday to visit, my perspective is turning brighter. Even though I can't run or play sports, I still have the most caring family and friends, and that has made all the difference.
Yep, that's my foot! That's before it swelled and turned all red! It looks prettier there for your own convenience.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)