Saturday, February 6, 2010

C is for Chloe

C is for Chloe, that crazy curly-haired monsted that sleeps under people's beds, waiting to strike and rip them to shreds with her claws when they least expect it.

Yeah, um.... She's not that much of a freak.

Chloe is one of the most amazing little children in the world. She scares other people with her violence and obssesion with cats, but not me, that brave little girl who faces her wrath head-on.
But really, Chloe isn't that bad. She's more sensible than me, but not crazy up-tight about not having fun. She's an AMAZING friend, one of the best I've ever had. No, seriously, she's way up there with The Cheesebutt.

Chloe is outgoing, graceful, and tall when she has her ten-inch heeled shoes on. She has curly, dirty blonde hair and happy green and brown eyes. She's a good source of comfort, unless you're crying over spilled milk, which she will then retort "get over it, fool" and walk away with her heels clopping on the floor.

I love her anyways. <3


B is for Bisco

B is for Bisco, my baby boy who I bridle up and ride.

A lot of you are probably thinking "who is this Bisco, and why the heck does she put a bridle on him?" or even "what is a bridle anyways?".

Don't worry, I haven't gone insane (though, now that I think about it, I can't really say that). Bisco, in short, is a horse. But not just any horse. He's a beautiful speckled chestnut paint who stole my heart the very first time I saw him. He's not mine, I just ride him and groom him, but I wish sooooo much that he was.

Now, all horses are special. But Bisco and I, there's something about us that just clicks into place. He listens to me unlike he's even listened to anybody before, and he does what I tell him too (though sometimes he can be a bit of a fart). He canters and jumps amazingly, though he is a bit stubby. He's NOT a pony though, just horse that's slightly smaller than normal (a bit like me, but I'm not an equine creature). His base color (WHOOO LOOK AT ME I'M REBEL NOT SPELLING IT THE CANADIAN WAY) is white, but he's a chestnut paint. The chestnut parts of him, though, are not solid but in fact made up of tens of million of little specks of that colour.

But Bisco is NOT a perfect horse in every way, but nobody is. He has a bit of an annoying habit of blowing out his stomach while you're putting on his girth, and you need a firm grip on his reins when you're on his back (especially when you go from trot to canter- then he yanks you down as yard as he can). Today another girl in my class was going to ride him because we were getting a feel of the other horses, and when she just made him go in a circle he yanked her right out of the saddle when he put his head down, so she was just lying on his neck (which can't have been comfortable for the old horse).

Bisco may be a bit frisky and.... eh, let's just say, not quite perfect, but he still is my favourite horse in the world, and probably will always have a special place in my heart.

Wow, was that cheesy or what?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

A is for Argh

A is for argh.

If you know anything about me, you'll know that I am a total spaz. I get easily frustrated, I like everything to be perfect, and I have a very short temper. And when it snaps, guess what I say.


Actually it would be something more like "@#!&%^)#@-?!@#$%*&(%#%^&$@#!!!!!!!!!!!!!" but there would probably be an argh somewhere in there. It was censored too for some reason, don't ask me why. I'm not in control of my typing.

So, anyways, yeah.

Some of my friends might find this hard to beleive, but I used to be the calmest, shyest little girl in my grade. Whenever I got angry I didn't yell "ARGH" but instead somehow changed it to sadness and ran to a corner to cry(emo, much). Either that or I kept it bottled up inside. But I finally shed that little shy sweet-heart scene and have become a much more interesting person, yet at the same time a much less likeable person. Well, to "popular" girls at least, but at least I actually have friends who like me for who I am, and not a posse who........ Well, I could go on and on about this, but some people, I'm afraid, may find it slightly offensive.

Don't worry, my next posts will be slightly more interesting and thoughtful than this one. I just feel lazy right now, and I just woke up.

Monday, November 16, 2009


<--- that's the empathy symbol.



I collapsed by his body, still clinging to his hand, that had been so warm just moment before. Now it was just clammy and stiff. Tears ran down my cheeks, sliding off my chin and landing on his dirty clothes. His beautiful, chocolate-coloured eyes stared blankly up at the gray sky, and just one glance at him told me he was dead, dead and never coming back.

I looked up at the soldier that had shot him, my grief and shock replaced by anger. Too bad that was the last emotion that I felt as I stared up his gun.'

Ah, the joys of empathy. The emotion that gets your heart pumping, and that makes you relieved when you think; "it's only a book, it's not happening right now, not to me." Writers make you feel this emotion with powerful words, strong descriptions, and characters that you can relate to. For example, if the main character in a story was perfect in every way, then I would actually be glad that someone dies, and when someone is like that, it's extremely hard to relate to them, so everything that happens is painfully boring. Those are some of the ways writers make you feel empathy, but there are many more.

So next time you are writing a story, think to yourself; "do I feel empathy for my character for my character?" If you do, then I'll know that you read my post!

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

If Suddenly YOU Had to Make the Money...

If all of a sudden your parents lost their jobs, and you were responsible to make all the money to support your big family, what would you do?

That's a tough question for many if us, because many of us can't even imagine a scenario like this. Everyone at SJK comes from realativley wealthy families, and we are all comfortable and not in danger of our parents loosing their jobs. But I suppose if we try hard enough, especially after having read The Breadwinner, it's possible. So, here's my opinion

If I heard that I was the only one capable of supporting my family, I would probably go into shock for a couple of hours. I think I could be capable, though; as long as there was a job I could do easily that would actually earn me enough money. I would definitley be a bit overwhelmed at first, but as I continued to do it, I would feel perfectly fine. I've handled LOT'S of stress before, even if this might be slightly bigger than past issues.

It would be quite a different life. I would probabley have to drop out of school, for one, and that alone would affect my way of living almost too much to even imagine! I would probably be too busy to have friends, and I'd feel pretty lonely. I guess it would be okay if it was something I really enjoyed doing, but I really doubt that would be the case. My life would be pretty much flipped upside down!

But this is really the case in some countries. Sad, isn't it? Imagine all that labour, just to be able to barely support a big family. The Breadwinner has helped me feel empathy for these people, and, perhaps when I get a bit older, I will be able to help.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Eva Olsson's Visit to SJK

October 26, 2009. Monday. Monday, the day that crushes all the fun out of you. Monday, when you are consumed by teachers droning words, thinking of how far away Friday is, how you will be able to stay alive for the WHOLE week at school. Thinking, maybe this week will be over soon... maybe... Suffering, you think, more than people must have in the days of the Holocaust.

That day, I learned we were dead wrong.

May 14, 1944. Eva Olsson and her large family are marched down a road, people lining up on either side, watching them, the Jews, outcasts. They are stuffed into a boxcar with a hundred other people, being taken to Auschwitz-Birkenau, to a concentration camp. She thinks, maybe this war will be over soon...

Eva Olsson came to SJK to talk to us about her story, her life as a Jew during World War Two. She told us of the horrors she encountered, but how she never lost hope, how she never gave up. I, personally, was amazed by her speech. I knew of the war, of course. My grandmother had been one of the survivors, and my great aunt Loca has written a book. But they had never spoken about it to me like Eva Olsson did that day. She delivered a lot of powerful messages, none of them ones that I will ever forget.

The part that affected me most was probably when she talked about how she went without food at her concentration camp for six days. She told us how she lay on the floor, surrounded by dead bodies, her life slowly draining out of her. But she never gave up. She never closed her eyes and let herself die. She was determined to stay alive, fueled by the thought of her sister. She had to stay and take care of her. And all that hope and determination payed off. After six days, she was freed, and went to Sweden, where she married, and managed to lead a happy life, until her husband died in a car crash because of drunken driving. It was like the grand finale, and I think it affected everybody, including me.
Eva Olsson was amazing. She really changed the way I think, and I hope she will tell many, many more. She could really change the world.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Team Building at Norval

The other day, everyone in Middle School went to Norval, each grade getting a unique, team building activity to participate in. We were split up into different teams. Mine included Wilks, Eric, Emma, Jamie, Hayley, Thomas, Ethan and Brenna.

The activity we had the most trouble with was our first one, the Fire Swamp Crossing. There was an amount of land that was the "Fire Swamp", and we had to get across it with five platforms and three planks to connect it. I think that we had trouble with this because it was the first time we had all done this kind of thing that required this much team effort. However, soon Brenna gave us a great idea of using the rope as a sort of railing for support. We were pretty, no, VERY close to not having enough time to get all across, but, with lots of support and hard work, we all made it.

The team was very good at communicating with each other. When an idea was suggested, it may not be heard at first, but then if it was suggested again, a few people heard it and said "Hey, listen to this!" Each idea was considered, even if it ended up being turned down. And some things didn't even need to be said, we all just fell into place. Like when we were doing the King's Finger activity. Automatically, the strongest people lifted the lightest one, and others helped and supported them. I got into place as the spotter, making sure that if the one being lifted fell feet first, not headfirst. Thankfully, I never had to push them into position, and everyone escaped without harm (except for maybe a few sore wrists!). This is why we were good at communicating together.

Overall, I had a lot of fun at Norval. It was an amazing experience, filled with adventure, but also with a few risks and challenges. Together, however, we overcame them, having a good time in the process. The drum circle at the end was amazing, and rekindled a passion for beating the heck out of things, while making amazing music. Two great things in one! It was amazing, and I can't WAIT for next year.