Sunday, November 30, 2008

iMovie No More

Remember how I said there was an iMovie contest? I made the movie and went to pick up an application, but Dorothy Dalin or whatever her name is said they were due the Friday before. DANGIT. Oh well.

This doesn't have any relevance, but remember how before I had a few weeks of "low"? Life is sucking a little less now. Compliments of the tiny one. (No, I am not giving an explanation.)



So, tomorrow is December 1st, which is the unofficial start of the holiday season. According to some people, including me. We put up the (fake!) tree and all that today. It takes forever to assemble all those fake branches, and each one has ten-ish little spokes of needles that you have to fluff up. We almost have too many ornaments... there was probably one on every single branch. The living room is gorgeous though, we have accumulated a great number of candles and snowglobes and such due to the fact that my mom teaches first graders whose moms are big on gift-giving. Every year brings a new load of gifty junk, and holiday candy that we gobble down eagerly. (We being my dad, sister, and I, not my WeightWatcher mother.)(Who is also a cheapo because a lot of the stuff gets regifted.)
My mom bought advent calenders back at the beginning of November from Trader Joe's. These ones have obnoxious, unrealistic cartoon drawings decorating them, and I'm sure the chocolates will be as nasty and chalk-like as ever, but for some reason we keep buying them. They are just so fun. I saw one at the World Market (<333) except it was a whole HOUSE! Which, um, is kinda stupid because it's basically just the same thing excepting the fact that it takes up more space... *sucks in deep breath* ... but it's a HOUSE!! I wonder if we will ever get around to making a gingerbread house this year. We keep seeing the kits in stores, every year, but every year, we keep saying we will wait until Christmas is closer, and every year, we never do make that gingerbread house. I remember when we got to make them in school, in second grade. Good times, gooooood times.
Hey, this is random, but does anybody remember Shiv Gettu? Tall guy? (I remember he was sitting across from me while I made my gingerbread house in second grade, so that's why he's getting brought up.) Anyway, back when I had a Facebook, I was chatting with him... and I said I hadn't been seeing him around... and he told me that he had moved to India! Jeez nuggets! I did not know that. I guess it's not a big deal, but it's weird how everybody I know is moving a w a y. . . .
Back to Christmas, I found out my dad is Ebenezer freakin' Scrooge. It's a complicated explanation, but my dad accidentally forwarded me an e-mail that he had sent to my uncle. (That's not exactly how it happened but oh well.) He was talking about our successful Thanksgiving and brought up how now there was Christmas "to deal with" and how he wished he could "fast-forward to January." Then I cried a little bit from guilt because he said on New Year's he was going to hope 2009 brought better luck for our family. And how that was exactly what he said last New Year's, but it didn't work out because 2008 was a "dud." I think he meant about how we lost all our money this year, and now we're broke just in time for Christmas. I don't know if I've told you about what I call the "Happy News," but now it isn't so happy. I should call it the Guilty News, because what it is will cost us a lot. It will cost us money that we can't spare... It's hard to explain without telling you what it is, but I can't

until March.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you are bloated on turkey and pie.
Almost all of our relatives live in Palm Springs, way south of us, in the middle of the desert. Every year we take the million-hour drive down in our cramped car in the dry heat of the desert. By the way, when I say desert, I don’t mean saguaros and tumbleweeds everywhere. We don’t like, ride camels or charm cobras or anything. It is a very urban part of Palm Springs. Everybody there is rich, pretty much, including my aunt and uncle. We usually have this big fat feast at Thanksgiving that my aunt whips up, but this year it was in a restaurant. Not the kind where you order your food, though... they had it all set up like a buffet. Most of it was seafood, though, but I got my fill of mashed potatoes... and turkey and cooked carrots and bread rolls.
And mint jelly. Do you know what that is? It’s delicious. It’s most unattractive substance, a jiggly goop with a bright garish green color. It was served in a big crystal bowl. A clean serving spoon laid untouched next to the juggernaut of a dish. Nobody wanted to spread this goo on their turkey? Not surprising. I stare for another moment at it, then plunge the spoon into the center. Ewww. The sensation is similar to stabbing a vat on alien brains. Well, I love mint. It can’t be that bad.
Okay, well, now you’re probably thinking that it was disgusting. Or bad, or okay. But you are WRONG. Suspicious, I dipped one tine of my fork into the little pool of martian snot and touched it to the very tip of my tongue. Bemoaning disgust, I reached for my glass of water and brought it to my lips. But wait. But waitaminute. But waitonetinylittlesecond. This stuff is good! It tastes like, well, toothpaste. But stronger, and more... uh, clear, or something. Sort of like a liquid breath mint. Being a person not unaccustomed to squeezing toothpaste on my forefinger and licking it off, this, to me, was a delicacy. Nummy nummy nummy.
The next day was Annual Barbecue at Uncle Randy’s House and Black Friday shopping. Barbecque was nice, but we forgot to bring food. We all got there, and then realized nobody had brought hamburger patties, veggie burgers, or buns. So we had to go to the grocery store, and then come back. Black Friday shopping pretty much sucked. There weren’t any sales, really. At least not any worth being titled a “doorbuster.” I can’t beleive that Wal-Mart thing. They literally busted the door... and that poor employee. They killed a guy just to get a good deal? Welcome to America. It doesn’t matter, though, because I can’t spend any money anyway. I have to save up for the Happy News. Don’t worry, though, y’allre still getting your Christmas gifts. =)
Did you hear about the two guys at the checkout of a Toys-R-Us in Palm Springs on Friday? They started shooting each other, and they both died. Well, I was in Palm Springs on Friday, and I was in the mall. Guess where the mall is? Just across the street from the Toys-R-Us. THAT Toys-R-Us, the one with the guys shooting each other. The shooting was in the morning, though, and we went to the mall in the afternoon.

So, that’s it. Bye.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Threeeeee Daaaaaay Weekeeeend!

If you haven't figured it out from the title, we are having a three day weekend. One day has already been used up by homework, the walking of two dogs, and the pounds of homework my teachers piled on to keep us busy over the weekend. Great idea, guys. Really. I appreciate all the extra work. Keeps me from getting bored.

That reminds me, have you guys ever seen Fred videos on Youtube? They are my favezz. Fred recently got a stupid, overrated last name, Figglehorn. His videos have become slightly less funny over the past year. Yet I still love his cute little self. Here is the link to his channel, or page, or whatever you call it on YouTube.
How about the "Will it Blend" things? You've probably seen at least one of those dumb videos. I can't believe he demolished an iPhone. Why do I keep watching them? Why?
Hmm, now what? I guess I could put the link to JKL videos on here, but nah. Like Fred, their videos simply are not as funny as they used to be. There was one other channel I was going to put on here, but now I forget what it was.

I plan to start the filming tomorrow morning, if my sister finally just agrees. If not, I will get "tree shots" and "sledgehammer shots."
I just realized, nobody is going to get* that.

*as in understand

Thursday, November 20, 2008

iMovie Contest

So, very good news. Mi escuela tiene (My school is having) an iMovie Contest! Mi hermana ALMOST agreed to do the filming, and I will be doing some as well, in the shots where I don't need to show my actual self. I have the setting and part of the storyline mapped out, and I want to get a little bit of filming done on Friday (Thank you, Zeus, for inservice days) and Saturday.
By the way, I did make a movie set to "In This Life," by Delta Goodman (or Goodrem, who knows) but it completely sucked, so I deleted it. Then I regretted it because I could have used some of the shots I'd collected. I should have pulled those out before erasing the whole job. Ah well, the deed is done.
Usually I don't really want to win any contests. I mean, look at what happened with the coloring contest, right? But this one I really do. The prize for first place is $100 cash, and I need the money for... the Secret News. Especially now that our family's savings are drained and we're a credit card bill away from being broke. I can't really explain why I need so much dinero for it without telling you what it is, so you'll just have to wait, I guess.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Coloring Contest

I am thirteen years old. But NOT too old for coloring contests!
There was this one in the local newspaper, and I was really bored. So I begin coloring it, and add some more stuff in. Then I'm like, hey, I might as well mail it in. So I did, and pretty much forgot about it after that...
Until today! I was sifting through the mail and spotted my name on an envelope, in handwriting. That was weird. Most envelopes with my name on them were autoprinted and addressed to my parents. Then I notice it is from a realtor, which was weirder, because it wasn't
our realtor. Then I remember, hey! That's the one that put the coloring contest in the newspaper four weeks ago! So I tear it open and pull out, sure enough, my coloring contest entry in all its overcrowded, colorful glory. Then there is TEN DOLLARS to Baskin Robbins...! And a nice little card of congrats that she wrote.
I'm so happy.
But it's so weird, my first coloring contest, and I'm a teenager... My childhood was lacking.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Painfully Ordinary

Here's another one I might be talking about on here:
I went back to my path today. It was horrible. I expected so much, and got so little.
I barely remembered how I had gotten there before, so wandered around for twenty minutes until I saw the little passageway into wonderland. Which wasn’t exactly wonderful anymore. I stood there on the path, stood where I had stood a week before, and stood, and stood, but felt nothing. And I walked down the path, and walked, and listened, and looked, but there was nothing to hear, nothing to see.
Then I started noticing things. There was a short tree with red leaves on the bottom branches but orange fuzz on top, and a row of bricks that led down to somebody’s patio, and bloodred flowers hanging off of a bush, and pink blinds in one of the windows. Things that I hadn’t noticed before.
I realized that it was because before, I was feeling my way through the trail, propelled forward by the magic, whisked through it from an inner feeling. I hadn’t looked at the trail, really. I just listened and knew there was a tree, and smelled and knew there was ivy, and everything else had just blended together and faded away into the swirling of thoughts going through my head.
Now that my head was back out of the clouds, I could really see things. And in all honesty, nothing was that much to look at. Sure, there was attractive ivy covering the ground, but it was nothing but ivy. And yeah, there were some nice trees around, but they were nothing but trees. And as I made my way slowly down this suddenly unfamiliar path, I looked back and saw something totally different from what I’d seen last week. The gorgeous picture I had in my mind was suddenly erased and replaced with THIS. This was nothing. This was boring trees and boring shrubs and boring pavement. Something to be seen and forgotten. The beauty had slipped away along with the magic, and what was left was this painfully ordinary path.

Buggywhip Court. This was something I saw on the way back to my grandma’s. Tell me, would you live in a place called Buggywhip Court? Wouldn’t you rather find a nice cardboard box and park it outside of a donut shop? “Buggywhip” is not what you name a collection of houses. It sounds like a disgusting innovation in snake food. Squashed-up bugs sold in an aerosol can that you squirt into your pet snake’s food dish. Insta-protein. I can see it now... Are you tired of lugging home live crickets to feed to your snake? Do you find it plain gross to watch a reptile eat insects? Well, we’ve got the solution for you! Try the new BUGGYWHIP! Just a dollop of this fantastic product a day, and your snake will have all the protein he needs! And that means no more crickets for you! Try BUGGYWHIP!
Yes, these are the thoughts running through my mind as I stare at the sign: Buggywhip Court.

Another thing I saw: green leaves and yellow leaves on the same tree. I’m serious. Green leaves. Yellow leaves. Same tree. And I mean BRIGHT lime green and LUMINOUS yellow, punches of neon color growing off the same branches. Is this truly within the power of Mother Nature? It looked like a twisted ad for some all-natural lemon-lime soda. Weird, at least in my eyes.


This is a note that I wrote on a different website. I will probably be referring to it a lot on here, so here it is:

My new mission is to take every ordinary experience in my life and to make it extraordinary. Or at least to make it sound as if it were. Extraordinary, I mean. Today’s subject is to be the walk I took on Tuesday.

I biked over to my grandma’s house to walk her adorable little fluzzie bundle of barking joy, Bruceter. If I haven’t made it clear enough yet, he’s a dog. A very tiny dog, but he packs a lot of love for his size. Anyways, I usually take him around this little path in the center of my grandma’s neighborhood. It goes in a circle around the pool and little park, and around the big grassy area with all the lovely trees, tra la la. So anyway, I started getting tired of going around and around in circles. Plus all these scary menacing *shudder* teenagers were hanging around and were starting to freak me out. Along the trail, there were these little paved paths that led from the park area to where all the houses were. I wandered down one of these and started walking along the streets lined with houses. Then I noticed a little paved trail that didn’t lead back to the central park. Curious me decided to explore.
It only went a very short distance before opening up to a path perpendicular to it, much longer. The short path was just a tributary into this larger one. I was pretty much smack-dab in the center of the big trail, so I turned left first. Wandering down that way, I began wondering why I had never found this trail before. My cousins and sister and I used to fly around this neighborhood during the frequent dinner parties at my grandma’s house, coming home in time for the “dinner” part of the party. And it took me thirteen years to find this little path? My grandmother had been living here since before I was born, and I thought I knew this neighborhood well. Apparently not. I was still unaware of the grand discovery I was about to make.

So here I am on this ordinary-looking path, with ordinary-looking shrubs and ordinary-looking trees. It turns out I was pretty near the end of the path, because it abruptly stopped and opened up into a cul-de-sac. Nothing to see here, except a weird random bright orange truck. Ye-ow. So I turn around. And I take a step.
One step.
One single, solitary step.
And as I am taking this step, I look out to the pathway in front of me. I can look back now and think, gee, there was nothing special about it, but then at that moment it felt, for lack of a better word, magical. Magical is too strong of a word to describe what it felt like, but really, there is no other way to describe it. Half-magical? Maybe three-quarters. But for now, let’s just say it was magical. The blustering cold now just felt crisp, like I had stepped out of my body and into new skin. I lifted my head and tasted the air on my tongue and felt the breeze on my cheeks and heard the wind in my ears. One slow blink just made everything clearer. Suddenly everything is satin and gloss, and I am a pixie, or maybe an angel, floating through this wonderland. I remember what my feet are for and start walking deeper into this unreal world. A gorgeous display of trees and dirt and pavement, arranged just for me. Leaves are sprinkled like sugar on oatmeal all over the ground, and the ones still on the trees make a canopy over my head, rustling softly in the breeze. They pray for the leaf-corpses scattered all over the ground. When a plant dies, are the remnants really considered a corpse? So all this fall, I have been raking dead bodies off my lawn and cramming them into big black bags? These are the thoughts that are passing through my mind as I pick up a leaf and twirl it between my thumb and forefinger. “You are a twisted freak,” my conscience states concisely. I shrug to myself and let the leaf flutter back to the ground. Maybe the reason I feel so weird is because this is a graveyard? There must be a mass murderer on the loose. I suspect Gus Tovwind. (Reread that... now again... do you get it?? Gust of wind? Ha! Ha! Ha!)
The wind picks up and the leaves start whispering louder. Each one is telling its own story, murmuring softly to anybody who comes by. You know what? I bet a lot of leaves die from depression. Each one has a unique story to tell, but nobody ever bothers to listen. I take pity, and I stop, and I listen. And I ask them why this path is making me feel so strange and... special, but they don’t answer. They want to finish their stories before the wind blows and they fall to the ground, lying there in agony until they eventually shrivel and dry up, reduced to a crunchy wad that will just get stomped on by some pesky kid. I could almost cry.
But the bittersweet moment ends as I continue my journey down the path. It opens up into more cul-de-sacs every few yards. I bounce along the trail, feeling like the pavement could be a big fluffy down pillow layered with marshmallows rather than concrete, and I could be a twinkly fairy, rather than just another person in the world.

I stroll along slowly, admiring how clean and pure the air feels in my lungs. I suck in deep breaths of it. When I exhale, my face naturally goes into a smile. Can breathing be a hobby? Try it, right now. You sitting at the computer. Doesn’t a big huge deep breath make your day just that much better? Why was everything here beautiful? Why were the bushes so lush and the trees so green and the air so crisp? Who knows.
Oh. Remember how I had a dog? Bruceter had been plodding along silently and obediently, there, but not in the wonderland my mind was turning this path into. Anyway, while I am busy breathing, there is a breeze and the leaves scud along the ground. Bruceter flips out, emitting a sharp bark and chasing after them. My arm is yanked halfway out of its socket as I hold on to the leash for dear life. “Bruceter!” I shout in surprise. He trots back, panting and grinning. I shake my head at him and continue on my trail. Wait. Something is different. The air doesn’t feel so impossibly clean anymore. And the pavement is just pavement, not pillows and marshmallows, and the leaves are just leaves, not sprinkled sugar or corpses or whispering storytellers. And me, I’m just me. I backpedal slowly, stepping carefully deeper into my glorious world. But the world has lost its glory, and I am once again on an ordinary path in a cold, lusterless universe. I have re-entered the real world. Leaves blow in the trees, but they don’t tell any stories. And I breathe air, but it doesn’t cleanse my lungs. And I walk along the pavement, but my feet have lost their bounce. My wonderland was like carefully crafted blown glass, just as beautiful, but shattered just as easily.

Magic doesn’t exist anywhere in the entire world, except in the minds of those few people with a powerful imagination. And magic can’t exist in an object. Or maybe it can, but only in the moment you believe it is there. Maybe it wasn’t the path that contained the magic. What made those few minutes so mystical was me truly beleiving that the magic was there. And in my mind, it was. But I only had it for a short time, until my wonderful moment ended. So be looking for your moment, and enjoy it to its fullest before it slips away. The beauty of magic is only powerful enough to kiss your life once in a very long while. I was on an ordinary path in some random neighborhood on a regular old Tuesday. And it was on this ordinary day that I was visited by the extraordinary. The circumstances might not be unusual, but when your magical moment occurs, you will feel it, and you will know.

And hopefully, you won’t think I’m crazy anymore. =)

(Sorry, I just couldn’t end it on a serious note like that.)


This week, we get a random Tuesday off for veteran's day. So it's going to be: school on Monday, no school Tuesday, school for the rest of the week. I really have no idea why we can't just get Monday off, too. The district should stick an inservice day or something in there. Today I'm going to go to school, but not tomorrow... I'm going to a party :)
And then the day after is going to be school again, and the day after that, and then it's already Friday.
What a screwed-up week.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

The First Entry

So, I have a blog now. And this is my first entry. Yup. Here it is.