Rant (Gay Marriage)

(If anyone is interested. This is my gay marriage rant from my journal.)

Okay you want a rant? Here's a rant. I support gay marriage 100% and am willing to fight for it to be passed. The issue at hand is that the older generation believe marriage is a union between a man and a woman, and any change in that is wrong. They have lived in a society that has told them that their entire lives, and it is difficult for their opinions to be changed. This is completely understandable. It is difficult to accept change towards something that has been custom your entire life. But the way I see it is this: It is fine to have those feelings and opinions, but once your feelings and opinions begin to take away the happiness of another human being, it is wrong. Everyone born on this Earth is entitled to happiness, and to take that away from someone simply because you are uncomfortable with change, or don't view something as "right", is immoral and extremely cruel. To say homosexuals should not be allowed to marry is to say their happiness is of lesser value than that of a heterosexual person. If "all men are created equal" than this should not be the case. Allowing homosexuals to marry would not effect anyone but them. No one's life would be changed in any way. There is no reason that gay marriage should not be legalized.

A Room Like No Other

(This is from my journal. I had no idea what to write so this is what I ended up with.)

A Room Like No Other

I just look around,
Don’t know what to write.
I think I’ll describe,
Whatever’s in sight.

A broken old chair,
All covered in dust.
And under the seat,
It’s beginning to rust.

And above the chair,
There hangs a flag.
It’s faded and ripped,
And starting to sag.

Hanging from the ceiling,
There is an arm.
And for those who don’t go here,
It may cause some alarm.

Posters and pictures,
Are hung of all kinds.
And over the window,
There hangs some old blinds.

Just how many people,
Have sat in F1?
For theatre, English,
Or just having fun.

This room, I’d imagine,
Has witnessed a lot.
And take it for granted,
I surely will not.

This year I must leave here,
When the school year is done.
But I’ll cherish the memories,
I’ve made in F1.

Overly Dramatic

Ben
Rebecca, his wife

(As they enter their house, BEN hangs the keys up and they both take off their jackets. REBECCA has a big spill stain on her dress)

BEN: What's wrong with you today? You didn't say a word the whole ride home.

REBECCA: Apparently a lot is wrong with me.

BEN: Well what's that supposed to mean?

REBECCA: Oh don't act like you don't know!

BEN: I don't!

REBECCA: I saw the way your friends looked at me at the party. I know what they must have been thinking when they saw you with me.

BEN: Is this about when you spilled that drink on your dress? I told you, no one was laughing...(chuckles) well I was, but I already said I'm sorry!

REBECCA: No, that's not what I meant.

BEN: Well then what's your problem?!

REBECCA: The way they looked at me, it was like I was so beneath them. They were looking right through me.

BEN: You know that's not true. They respect you just as they respect me. So what if you got little spill on your dress. It was no big deal.

REBECCA: This isn't about the spill!

BEN: Then what is it about? You want them to treat you like a queen? Huh? Is that it? Like you're some kind of empress they have to bow down to?

(Rebecca is almost in tears but then stands her ground)

REBECCA: No. But a little common decency would be appreciated. The women at the party wouldn't even hold a conversation with me! And your friends looked at me like I was some kind of hired hooker!

BEN: Why do you care so much about your image?

REBECCA: What image? I don't even have an image among those people! I have never seen you without a jacket. I always feel like such a slob compared to you. Before we were married, I was sure you slept with a tie.

BEN: Oh so I'm the bad guy?! Just because I wear suits to work and have friends that are intellectuals, that makes me a jerk?

REBECCA: I didn't say you were a jerk,

BEN: You might as well have. It's clear you're jealous of my appearance. (raises nose in air)

REBECCA: Jealous of-... You are completely missing the point, Ben! I can't be subjected to judgment from your snooty friends every time we go out!

BEN: Well, fine! Let's move to a cave. We'll never go out in public again! Is that what you want?

REBECCA: Oh you're being completely overly dramatic.

BEN: Am I Rebecca? Am I really?

REBECCA: ...Yes Ben, you are.

BEN: Well fine then, I'll go spend the night at my "snooty friend's" house. Wouldn't want to make your life "overly dramatic"!

REBECCA: Ben!

(BEN exits, slamming the door behind him. Rebecca sighs and exits)

I Dub Thee, Spider King/Queen!

Since I am in Mrs. Morrison's Theatre Arts and creative writing class, I've seen a lot of spider spirit this week. I must say there certainly was a bit more spirit in Theatre Arts, but I suppose that would be expected of thespians and theatre lovers. There were, however, a few people that stood out in Creative Writing.
Our Spider King, in my opinion, should be Giacinto. He comes in everyday with a smile on his face and sings the spider week song with enthusiasm like no other. And his baby spider house was so creative, especially the sunglasses lenses for mirrors. He was nominated in our Theatre Arts class but sadly only received Spider Prince. Giacinto is definitely deserving of Spider King. I hear him humming the spider week song right now.
I would like to win Spider Queen because I worked very hard on my baby spider house last night. I put a lot of detail into the furniture and it took me a very long time to finish. I think it's very creative. I also make sure to sing the spider week song everyday. :)

Face Description (Giacinto)

Joe Shmoe has a thin face with sharp masculine features. He has a large, wide nose lightly sprinkles with freckcles. He has thin, pink lips with just a slight mustache on his upper lip. His round chin has a touch of facial hair as well. His smooth cheeks are slightly flushed and he has thin sideburns next to his somewhat thick ears. He has small eyes that are light brown with a hint of green. His eyebrows are very thin and fuzzy and pale brown. He has a small forehead that lies right below his straight cut hairline. His short, thick hair looks pale brown under the lights, but dark brown in less lighting. Overall he has a unique yet attractive face.

Road Rage At It's Best

I would like to share an experience I had a few nights ago that made me come to a conclusion.

I pulled out of the movie theatre parking lot and I was in the far right lane. I realized that I had to get over into the left lane or I would be forced to U turn. I then checked my rear and side view mirror and turned to check my blind spot. As I put on my left blinker and began to change lanes, I was approaching a red light. Just as I was braking for the light I heard a car honk it's horn. I looked quickly to my left and realized I was driving right into a car that was in the lane next to me. I don't know where it came from, because I had checked all of my mirrors and blind spots, but it was too late for me to swerve back into the right lane because I would have hit another car. Thankfully, the car I was accidentally pushing out of the lane had gotten out of the way and I was safely in the left lane. Both cars and drivers were fine. However, as I sat at the light, the car pulled up next to me and the man in the passenger seat rolled down his window and began to yell very rude things to me. I looked over to see that the driver of the car was a woman in her 50's and the man yelling was also in his 50's. I simply looked away and ignored him. The light turned green and I sped away.

This experience made me realize something. The man was yelling things at me that I hear students at TRS yelling everyday in anger. This man was in his 50's, so wouldn't one expect him to know better than to use that kind of language with others? And to be able to control his temper and realize what I had done was a mistake? Apparently not. This experience made me realize that high school never ends. There will always be drama. There will always be those people in the world. We all say, "I can't wait to get away from the drama," but we never really do. Even when we're 50 years old, we will still have a little high school left in us.

Creative Word Vomit

(This was my journal entry today in class. I had a sudden burst of creativity. This just started pouring on to the paper like creative word vomit. I have absolutely NO IDEA where this story was going, but this seemed like a good idea at the time.)

He stood alone in the hallway. Silence pierced the air. He stared at the open locker to his left. An overwhelming sense of loneliness filled him. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound could be heard. He shuffled slowly to his right and pressed his back against the lockers, sliding to the floor. His eyes were fixed on that open locker across from him as his mind raced with panic. The look on his face was of confusion. His true emotions could not be seen.

Narrative Essay

(This is a true story that happened when I was about 6 or 7 years old.)


Frozen with fear, I laid motionless and unable to breath. It felt as though the breath was being choked out of me. My eyes were fixed on the ceiling as I desperately gasped for air. It had happened so suddenly that I wasn't sure how seriously I was hurt. All I could focus on was catching my breath, and the pain shooting through my entire body.
The day had been great up until the accident. We had spent all morning playing in the yard under the warm sun, and all afternoon watching movies on the couch. My best friend and I were very energetic that night as we brushed our teeth and prepared for our sleepover. My mom had laid out a mattress on the floor next to my bed for my friend to sleep on, but her and I were far from ready for bed.
Laughing and yelling we began to jump on the bed. We jumped from my bed, to the mattress on the floor and back. We were having a blast!
"Watch how high I can jump!" I yelled, springing off the mattress.
"I bet I can jump higher!" my friend replied, leaping from the bed to the mattress. We both climbed onto the bed and continued to bounce.
"I bet I could do a flip," she said. With a hard strong thrust upwards, she flipped her body forward and landed on her back. Laughing loudly, she stood back up.
"That was so awesome!" I yelled in excitement, "Let me try!" I did the same and landed on my back on the bed with a thump! I stood up and chuckled. We continued to take turns flipping. It was so much fun, until I made a huge mistake.
I sprung high into the air and began to flip forward, but when I got halfway and was completely upside down I looked down and did not see the bed, but the hard wood floor. In a panic I attempted to abort my flip, but it was too late. With a loud crash I hit the ground, landing directly on my head and snapping my neck forward into a terribly painful position. I could not move. I could not breathe. I looked up and saw my friend leaning over me.
"Get my mo-" I croaked, unable to speak a completely sentence. I was trying to tell her to run and tell my mom what had happened. I laid there for what felt like forever, choking with no air in my lungs. My mom bursted into the room:
"What was that crash? What happened?" she exclaimed. She ran over and inspected me to see if I was seriously hurt, then grabbed the phone to call an ambulance.
I finally caught my breath, but I was afraid to move, I might have broken my neck. The ambulance arrived and took me out of the house on a stretcher. At the hospital I had x-rays done on my neck and back. Thankfully, nothing was broken. I was okay.
Relieved, we left the hospital. I will never forget that day, and neither will my friend. And one thing's for sure, I will never jump on a bed again.

If I were to write a book...

If I were asked to write a book, I don't think I would be too eager to accept the task. I don't consider myself very poetic or creative. My brain just doesn't seem to think that way. However, if it was absolutely necessary, I would most likely write a book quite similar to the broadway production of Cats. There wouldn't be much of a plot, just introductions of several different characters. The setting would be right here at TRS. I would quite literally write about different students that stand out to me. I would describe them and write about experiences I've had with them. Okay, probably not exactly the most interesting book, but it would certainly show a different side of high school in my opinion.

My First Blog Ever!

This is my first blog of the year! I'm so excited I've never blogged before. :)