Sometimes senior year changes things. In the beginning of the year I spent my time after school with the same people everyday. Things happen, schoolwork becomes overwhelming, and my after school crowd changes. By the middle of the school year, my spreadsheet looks completely different. This is the tracking that I record every week for my statistics class. I record how long I stay after school, why I stay after school, who I hang out with, and who I leave with. It's the "Hang out" category that suffers such a tremendous change.
Last year, I had the opportunity to travel to the Grand
Canyon. I got to connect with some kids from my school and I also got to meet
new people. At night we would sleep under the stars, camped out on the bank of
the Colorado River; and during the day we would white water raft, taking
occasional breaks to play a game of ninja. It was a great trip; however, one day the rapids were
unusually violent – tossing our paddle boats at will. My boat had the most
experienced rowers, so we were able to maintain control, albeit while narrowly
avoiding a large jagged rock in the middle of the river. However, the others
weren’t so lucky. We looked up to see several of our classmates floating down
the river. Luckily, we didn’t panic and we were able to get our classmates to
safety, while rescuing the majority of our equipment that had gotten lost in
the struggle.
Ok I feel like a lot of my stories will involve the escapades of my youngest brother, Dalton, and I. He's eight years old, in third grade, the spawn of Satan and Spiderman and my best friend.
I work at the Mütter Museum, and most weekends I'm there giving tours. Well, last weekend, Dalton decided he wanted to come with me because he loves the museum. This particular time I was giving a tour to a group of adult students. Dalton tagged along for the actual tour rather than wandering the place himself, and he had much of the tour memorized, well, as memorized as his eight year old mind could understand.
We got to one of his favorite exhibits, the "Megacolon", which is a ridiculously huge distended colon taken from a man who suffered from a condition called Congenital Aganglionic Megacolon, or Hirschsprung's Disease. This is basically a section of colon that has no working nerve endings, causing chronic constipation and an accumulation of waste that cannot be naturally excreted by the body.
Anyway, I mentioned that the specimen we had on display was a "biological specimen", and that it was the original colon casing and was now stuffed with straw. Dalton had been politely quiet until this point, where he cut in and turned to address the crowd of adults surrounding him. He said, with a perfectly straight face "Yes, it is now full of straw, however, originally, it was full of poo."
How he managed to say this in such a serious tone with a straight face and not dissolve into laughter, (he is eight after all) is beyond me, but it's just one of many reasons why he's great, and I think he might have to come to more of my tours to add in his own anecdotes.
I feel like I knew him a long time ago But it can’t be him… Just smile. “How can I help you sir?”
“I’ll have a cup of coffee baby, Make it black for me.”
“Sure thing.”
“You know doll, you look real familiar. You wouldn’t happen to be Casey’s daughter, would you?"
Oh shit, oh fuck. It is him. “Um I think… You have the wrong person.”
“No it is you. Amelia right? And that’s your uncle that just left? This is his store.”
Shit, what do I do… “Oh um yea.” Really, you couldn’t think of Anything other than “oh um yea?”
“How’s your mom? It’s been a long time. And you. You’ve grown well. Very well. You remember me? Don’t you Amy? Nick, your mom’s ex."
“Oh, um yea.” Again really. Wide vocab you got there!
“Ha, so how much I owe you?”
Hmm. A new childhood would be nice. One where you weren't there. One that didn't hurt so much. Mentally. Physically. “Don’t worry about it, On the house.”
“Hey thanks sweetie,” He walked out, He turned and winked, “And do me a favor, Don’t tell mommy.”
Those three words, "Don't tell mommy" I heard them all to often When i was all to young. Those three words...
I absolutely hate Tuesdays. I can never get enough sleep on a Monday night so I am always exhausted the next day.
I woke up this morning to the screech of my alarm clock and my mom yelling at me to wake up. I wanted to stay home so bad but I knew that she would not allow it.
I began my daily trek to school by falling asleep on the bus ride there. When I finally arrived at SLA, I could barely keep my eyes open throughout first period. It is dreadful knowing that after lunch, I still have three straight periods before dismissal. On top of that, I have work from 5pm-9pm. I never get home before 9:30.
The only good thing about Tuesday is the fact that Wednesday is following. Wednesdays are always a half-day for me. I know as soon as I get home from such a long Tuesday, I have time to relax and recharge for a low-key Wednesday.
I wouldn't consider myself a bad or evil person, but it seems as though life has a funny way of making me out to be. To narrow down my statement, i'lltell you about last week.
As if on cue, every single time I step on to the platform of the Frank ford-Market line train, something wrong must happen to me. I get on the train, already prepared for the worst mind you, and I see an available seat. I nonchalantly look around to make sure there is no one else around me or eyeing the seat, and when I realize the coast is clear I make my move. It's about seven forty in the AM and I got some hot chocolate on my way to the El, which had already spilled on my tan jacked, which was absolutely lovely(sarcasm). So I'm walking toward the chair, my drink at hand and when I sit I realize the chair is abnormally moist. As if everyone on the train knew exactly what was going on and what was on the chair, when I looked up; I had about twenty two eyeballs staring at me. I ignored them at first but they just kept glancing back at me like they all had ticks in their necks, and then the seat began to feel strangely wet. Then I realized at the moisture of the still unknown liquid soaked threw my jeans that these heartless rude people where waiting for a reaction from me. I was so embarrassed first off because no one had the common courtesy to let me know before I sat down that there was something on the seat, and secondly because not only did I not see anything when I did check the seat but I had no idea what it was. As I hoped that death would somehow strike me now, I realized my stop was approaching and I agonized even more. I got up with disgust and very nervously turned around to look at my backside and to my surprise it was just water. But it doesn't end there, I had my book bag on the seat next to me and somehow there was urine on that seat! I literally gaged out loud at the smell! The first thing that came to mind was how the heck did I not smell it before that point, and I realized it was because I was drinking my hot chocolate and that must have blocked the smell, but i could have cried when i got up and walked towards the door and saw a hobo with soaked wet pants and an empty water bottle hanging from his oversized coat. I felt both pity and disgust as everything started to make sense. But I got off the train surprisingly not as upset as I thought I would be, mainly because I knew how everything had happened, and it wasn't just something crazily impossible that usually would only happen to me. But it was gross.
Christine: Hello friend. I had a terrible dream in everyone canceled and you spent the evening verbally abusing me. I share this with you in hopes that you may offer good news to assuade my fears. Have they all chosen alternative plans? are you in a violent mental state?
Me: Oh goodness what a terrible dream! I would never do such a thing! You know me I never become violent. Meet us in an hour at 2nd and Market.
Christine: I am close by....but a few moments away.
These drawing were different to what I'm used to drawing. I know that drawing realistically gives you a good foundation if you ever take up drawing. I'm used to drawing on the spot, I never have the patience to sit there and practice. My favorite out of all of these is my small self-portrait. It was the one that turned out the best in my opinion. I really love drawing, and it's usually something that I don't spend too much time on. I bet if I practiced, I'd be really good at it. Unfortunately, I don't spend too much time on it, and have my favorite art book and my drawing tools just gathering dust. Having to do a drawing a week made me feel rushed. I liked that we had to do these but I never really had the time to finish these at home. I think we had enough time to do them all. Something I would've done is fix the mistakes while I was drawing instead of going along with them.
Hand Drawing Self portrait Large Self Portrait Clear Bottle Small Clear Bottle Large Still Life Large
That night I was awaken by a
deafening crash. I sat up in my twin bed attempting to assure myself that it
was nothing more than the illusion of the dream I’d awaken from. But then the
booming crash was followed by another crash, only this time it didn’t leave a
faint echo in my mind. I took a look at the clock on the front of my cable box,
which read “2:33”. After falling asleep while watching a marathon of “I
Survived” (which is a documentary show that interviews people who survived life
threatening events) several hours prior, I was prepared for the worst. I slowly
slid myself off the side of my bed, trying to avoid the humming of my springs
which may alarm whosever in the house. As I stood beside my bed I became aware
that I was on the third floor of my home, which was the highest floor. By the
time I would reach the first floor, who knows what I’ll come face to face with.
I tiptoed from my room to the top of the stairs where I knew one false move on
any step could create a loud creaking sound alerting who or what ever entered
my home. I tread along the edge of my steps with the tip of my toes trying not
to make a sound. When I reached the bottom of my stairs, I stared at my mom’s
door thinking. What if he’s already in here just waiting for me to walk by? Is
he standing on the opposite side of the door sensing my fear? The more I
thought, the faster my heart began to beat, so with hesitation, I twisted the
knob on my mom’s door, slightly ajar enough to peek my head through. To my
amazement, she was sound asleep with my younger brother and sister on each side.
I wondered if she heard the same distinct crash I had minutes earlier. Was it
only my imagination? I was hoping so, but I didn’t want to take any chances of
falling asleep and waking up to a masked figure standing over me on the side my
bed. I had to check downstairs as well to be sure. My mom had the habit of
leaving her television on while she was asleep, and tonight wasn’t any
different. As I began to close her door, I looked at her screen and noticed that
she was watching the marathon of “I Survived” as well. My heart began to beat
twice as fast, I couldn’t help but become paranoid at the fact that a stranger
could still be in my home hiding behind any door within any shadow. I walked
down my second floor hallway aware to walk on the right hand side because the
floor wouldn’t creak.
As I stood at the top of the last
flight of stairs, I stared into the darkness below me. The only light I could
see was the moonlights’ reflection from my doors’ windowpane. I closed my eyes
and slowly walked down every step until I reached the bottom. I began to open
my eyes prepared for anything to come my way, but nothing was there. While I
walked past the front door on my way to the kitchen, I felt a sharp chill come
across my chest and arms. The cool air moved to the bottom of my bare feet, and
then I knew it … the front door was recently opened. While walking I noticed
the faint smell of marijuana the closer I came to the kitchen door, I knew
someone was in the house now. I walked quietly in front of the kitchen door and
noticed that it was slightly opened and the light was on. This was the moment I
was waiting for; this was the moment of truth. The instant I pulled the handle
to open the door, the light turned off. I took approximately three steps back
to find the nearest lamp and when I did, I immediately twisted the handle. As
soon as the light turned on I saw him, a black masked figure standing in the
kitchen door way. He stared at me, I stared at him, as I looked down I noticed
one of the several kitchen knives we owned in his left hand. The only part of
his body I could see was his eyes, and the only expression I saw on in his eyes
was genuine evil.As he walked
towards me I took steps back and the only thought that carried through my mind
was that I may be telling the story tonight’s events on an episode of “I Survived”.
According to Web MD Insomnia is: a sleep
disorder that is characterized by difficulty falling and/or staying
asleep. Which basically mean you can't sleep at night. It's especially terrible when you are expected to wake up before the sun and stay awake for the next 6 hours. The thing is though you are tired, VERY tired, but for some reason you just can't sleep. Rolling around, watching terrible late night comics, and scrolling through weird blogs doesn't make the disorder any more bearable. Looking at the clock, the time moves so fast! 1 a.m., 2a.m., 3 a.m., 4a.m. OH My God! I only get 2 hours of sleep. Insomnia basically sucks. I know you're probably wondering why I know so much about this lovely blessing...well because it's 1 a.m. and sleep seems to be no where in site for me. I don't even remember how this all started, I just remember not sleeping. Most of the time I sit up mad because I know how tired I'll be in class, and how I hope that all my classes consist of me being talked at so that I can catch up on a few minutes to hold me over till math. My boyfriend calls me weird, and even compared me to a zombie tonight, but he doesn't understand and many people don't. Sleep is like a privilege and if I get it I am HAPPY!
One night, though, I got completely fed up! "That's it! I'm going to sleep, whether I like it or not?" (question mark because that even confused me). So I shut everything down. No T.V., no computer, no phone, nothing! I was ready to fall asleep. So I laid there. My attempt started at around 11, and I was very optimistic, "I'm about to be OUT!" As I laid in the darkness, and the time past, I got nothing. I stared at the ceiling for 36 minutes, and thought "I gotta clean my fan." I stared at my hand and realized that they were shaped weird.This went on for the next 3 hours and 15 minutes. Not even boring observations could put me to sleep. Then before I knew it, the sun started rising and my alarm went off. Not only had I not gotten any sleep but I was bored, I guess I was better off with terrible comics, and weird blogs after all.
Everyone
can relate to me, when I say we are all coming to that age. The one where we
can say “I’m legal”, or to sass a teacher when they tell you “tilt your screens”
and you mumble “I’m grown”, low enough for them to not catch your exact words
but at a volume to make your peers chuckle.
For
some accepting you’re aging is the challenge and taking on new
responsibilities. For others planning the celebration would be one of the most
challenging things. Well for me it is. Even though we consider ourselves to be “legal”
or “grown” we still have those parents who cant let go, or at least loosen
their grip. My friends and I decided to throw a hotel party together to all
celebrate our 18th year.
“ C’mon were
gonna get kicked out.” I said resisting her idea.
“It’s a risk you
have to take.”
“ Wait how ya’ll
paying for it and what ya’ll telling ya’ll parents?” A random voice added in.
“Look man we
will worry about that when the time comes.” I said in a jokingly manner.
We then spoke
realistically about our plans and decided to propose our ideas to our parents.
As I was relaxed my phone rang, I received a text saying “What’s your mom’s
number?”
I eavesdropped
on the conversation between my mother and my friend’s mother. I could only make
out a few words but I was sure when I heard “They think they’re grown.” Once
you here that, its downhill from there. I crept back into my room.
Soon after a
brief conversation, the next thing I knew, the hotel party was on hold. I
received a call from mom saying “I have plans this weekend I don’t plan on
chaperoning.”
With confusion I
asked “what?”
I slowly came to
the realization that my plans were falling apart. I asked her “how can you just
volunteer yourself to attend my party mom I’m grown you don’t have to watch me
or my friends?”And she said “how old
are you?”
Proudly I danced
a little and I responded with “ I’m 18!”
She said “Right
and until your 21 and can answer me without dancing I’m responsible for you. I
will sleep on it.”
Where your finger tips and keys meet in harmony. A boy in School wrote a story that would change the WORLD as we know it! However; little did he know, he would occasionally glance at his TV and the Facebook as well as his Twitter feed. The problem was that even before this story started, he spent almost 1 hour on trying to figure out what he wants to change in this world. So he sat and thought and thought and thou...Then it hit him! He was just too tired to write and decided he would leave his document with (In A World...) and leave his readers in somewhat of a suspense to see what happens next...
I was floating. I don't know how but i was. there was darkness all around me and i felt myself drifting the land of dreams. then a noise jerked me from my journey
'buzz,buzz,buzz' My eyes snapped open to meet with darkness and the only thing visible were the red digits that seem to float from the clock that read 4:30 am . My eyes squinted with hatred for who would wake me at such at time. 'buzz,buzz,buzz' the noise kept going. i looked to see my phone moving from it's own vibration i swiped it from nightstand and looked at the number. It was anthony calling. My mind even in it's half awake started going through all the things that could have happen for him to call me at this time. in concern i opened the phone and replied. " Hello ? " "Teeeecchhh support" the voice sounded slurred and drunk " What? "I replied in confusion " Tech support " he yelled again in the slurred way "You called me...at 4:30 in the morning for tech support!" I heard laughter in the back that i recognize " Zach I'm going to kill you!" there was rustling i guessed that the phone was moving and Zach's voice much closer now yelled back " Wait why are you going to kill me!" "Because you let him call me at 4 in the morning! " i can't control who he calls " "yes you can!"
this argument went on for about 2 minutes until Zach apologized and said goodnight. i closed my phone and put my head on the pillow that smiled back at me. i closed my eyes but i could'nt drift back to my journey on the road to dreams. I sat up and opened my laptop at least i could surf around until my eyes got tired. a bubbled showed up on my screen from ichat it made it's pop noise timidly and i looked to see who messaged me 'Tech Support' it read. Even though i could not hear him. his voice rang loud and obnoxiously in my head. I typed back frustrated " Anthony shut up!" In response he spammed with the same two words.I blocked him for the night then closed my laptop with a sigh. I laid my head back down on the pillow and a few minutes i finally went back to sleep with the hatred of the words" Tech support"
