I read one of Adora's many blog entries today. It was a very long menu from her made-up country, Voledads. Her restauraunt was called "The Promenade" and it had very pricy foods. Most of the foods were what you would regularly find in America, but some foods were a bit strange, like the salad that was topped with grass. I found the menu quite entertaining and interesting to read.

Half full, not half empty: Be optimistic.
Origin: Mozna, mid 1900s. Gluglenacec Dublinee came up with the saying. Dublinee was the leader of the growing "Optimizzy Optimistic" group during the 1900s.

A dull tool collects dust: If you don't have an education, you will not have any interesting experiences and you will lead a boring life.
Origin: An old schoolmaster used this saying for the first time when he was talking with a student who despised school.

Entertaining as a doorknob: Boring as heck.
Origin: A well used saying all over Mozna. This saying originated in downtown Mozna, when a man watching a show told his friend, "This show is entertaining as a doorknob. Let's go!" The saying was spread around until it reached the whole country.

A slug's nosehairs: Non-existent
Origin: Southern Mozna.

Class assignment: Woody Guthrie as a boy

Woody sat at a raggedy, scratched up wooden bench. He held a cold, metal harmonica to his lips, playing a jolly tune. He had also been practicing making a railroad sound...He hadn't quite mastered that one, yet. People passed by Woody, glancing at him as they hustled by. Woody smiled at all the different people walking by. He leaned forward and stood up, stowing his harmonica in his dirty pocket, full of crumbs, dirt, and small pebbles. Woody started walking around town, looking at all the different shops and different people. As he passed by the barber shop, he felt his raggedy hair. It did need quite a bit of cutting, but he thought his ma could do that for him. If Woody asked Ma if he could get a haircut from the barber, Ma would say: "Barbers are expensive, we don't have that kind of money. I'll do it." And besides, Woody didn't care too much about his hair. Woody pulled his harmonica out of his pocket again, and started playing, as he walked. He tried to do the railroad sound...He could almost do it.

Minnie and Sherlock: Two adoptees

I could feel butterflies in my stomach. I was so excited, and also a bit nervous. My Dad stopped the car in front of a semi-ramshackle building called "The Best Little Rabbit Rodent Ferrret House". We stepped out of the car, and I quickly walked over to the door of the building. It was a crooked door, with some white paint peeling off of it. I liked the way it looked. As we entered, I looked around at all the different supplies and all the animals in cages. It was a warm, cozy place that I felt at home in. We went right over to the humongous cage where the guinea pigs were. They made adorable little chattering sounds, and noises that sounded like little bubbles. They looked hopefully up at us. There were a few white crested ones, a Tri-colored one, and many others. THere were 19 guinea pigs in all. So many to choose from! They were all so amicable. I was enamoured with all the charming guinea pigs. Every one of the guinea pigs had the opposite of a stentorian voice...they were so quiet, and had such a high voice, making their little bubble sounds.
The sweet smell of hay was everywhere in the adoption center. I loved the smell. I loved everything about the adoption center...the smell, the sounds, the animals there....
The hard part about getting a guinea pig was choosing between all 19 of them. I got to sit in a enclosed pen to play with them, and to see whose personality I liked the most. First, I got to sit with a big girl guinea pig...I believe her name was Jasmine. She was so entertaining, and I just loved her personality. She was just so hard to pick up, because she was really fast, running around. The texture of her fur was kind of rough near the front, and near the back, pretty soft. She had hair growing both ways. In the front, it grew towards her head, and in the near back, it grew backwards. She had really long hair that would need to be brushed daily, and cut sometimes.
I got to play with another, smaller guinea pig named Minnie, next. We had Jasmine and Minnie in the same pen. I thought that they would be the perfect pair, but then they got aggressive a couple of times. I was really dissapointed about that. I couldn't take both Jasmine and Minnie and home. So I chose another guinea pig to play with; his name was Sherlock. All three of them were in the cage together. Minnie and Sherlock seemed to make really good pair, although I really, really wanted to take Jasmine home. It just couldn't work out that way, and my sister Adora really wanted me to adopt Sherlock. I really wanted to adopt Minnie. I really, really wanted to adopt Jasmine, too, but there was no choice except to adopt Minnie and Sherlock. Minnie and Sherlock really liked eachother, so I thought that would be the best choice for them. Now I know that I was right. Minnie and Sherlock lead very happy lives together today.

Mirror Images: Opposite paragraphs

I'm really irritated when I mess up practicing piano. The slightest mistake will make me awfully frustrated and I'll get really angry. I hate hearing noise other than the piano when I'm practicing. I'm quite sensitive to noise when I'm playing the piano. Sometimes my Dad will whistle or snap his fingers when I'm playing piano and I'll get really mad. Usually, when I'm practicing, the outside noises are pretty quiet, but sometimes a door slams and really surprises me. It's funny when that happens, because all of a sudden there's this humongous noise that shocks my ear-drums. I usually stop playing for a few seconds because I'm so surprised.
When I get frustrated at something, I bang on the keys quite loudly.

Each time I make a mistake playing the piano, I learn something from the mistake I made. Every time I mess up, practicing the piano, I can pinpoint the places I need to learn better. Making mistakes is a learning experience for me. I like hearing loud noises when I'm playing the piano, because it makes me less prone to distraction when I'm playing at a concert or recital. It also builds up my tolerance of loud noises. Every time a door slams, I am less prone to distraction than I was a minute ago. So when I'm playing at recitals and concerts, I can focus on the music instead of the noises from the audience.

Translation

I play the violin and the piano. I've played violin for longer than piano, but just by a year. I hate the question, "what instrument do you like better?" because I have no idea. I like them both the same. Well, sometimes I like the piano more, or I like playing the violin better, if I get annoyed at some of the songs I'm playing. I get frustrated very easily if I make a mistake on the piano or violin. When I play the piano, I usually bang on the keys if I'm frustrated. It's actually quite fun. I LOVE animals. I am a proud vegetarian, and I love cats. Cats are my favourite animal. But I like all types of animals. I really like guinea pigs, and pigs, and rabbits, and dogs....I love every type of animal. I am VERY sad to say that I STILL don't have a pet. I should be getting a guinea pig. Actually, I should have got one in January, but it was postponed for months. I am incredibly miserable about that. I long for a companion animal. I really wish I had a kitten, but a guinea pig will be just as great. I'm still waiting. I like writing poetry. I think I've written about 200 poems so far. I don't like writing rhymes so much, because they always turn out really banal.

I've been playing the piano for six years, and the violin for five years. I love both instruments equally. My work is very important to me and I pay great attention to detail.
I volunteer my time helping animals at various animal shelters. I am a caring vegetarian, and I love all types of animals.
I love doing all types of art...I paint, write poetry, and play music. I have written about 200 poems so far. I am hard-working and amiable.

I made up my own vocab word for class...it originated from the greek god aphrodite

antiaphrodite: Ugliness; hatred.
Comes from "Aphrodite", Goddess of love and beauty. Antiaphrodite is incredible ugliness, and a feeling of searing hatred towards another being. Aphrodite was born as an adult, and had no childhood. She married Hephaestus.

More class stuff...Vocabulary

The feline was ragged and lived in a towering, spacious house. She dined on many different kinds of foods; most of the foods were delightfully sweet or salty. The air was refreshingly cool and blew many breezes. The feline took many later-day walks, after she had eaten her fill. The feline had many miniature people that worked for her. The feline had many glittering, dazzling polished rocks and minerals.

Vocabulary. Introducing....Descant

Descant--An additional melody sung above the principal melody.

Marie and her husband, Charles, had purhased tickets to see their 9-year old son sing in the choir. The children's choir sang a dull tune for quite a long time. The tune kept repeating, over and over, and it got very boring after a few minutes. Marie began to get a headache. It was a good thing she had packed a few aspirin...She had known this would happen. The choir went on and on. In the front of the choir, a woman dressed in a flowing velvet dress began singing beautiful, impossibly high notes. She was singing a different kind of melody...an undescribable melody. The choir was singing very, very low notes...still the same tune. Her voice was thrilling, and cracked through the air like ice. It was a musically complex descant that took everybody's breath away. Marie's headache went right away without the aspirin she had begun to unwrap. Everyone sat still, in awe. The woman singing the descant ended on a long C, and the choir stopped. The audience sat still for a moment, then the silence was broken with thunderous clapping that went on for a long time.

Gwyntopp Bramblenarg is a controlling, aggressive president. He leads troops and armies to their own graves. Gwyntopp Bramblenarg himself hardly fights for his country at all! Many soldiers die during these wars, yet Bramblenarg is still alive.
Bramblenarg is a bony, horrific man--a tyrant. He is a selfish, greedy man that takes everything for himself, and leaves nothing for his country. Gwyntopp Bramblenarg should be impeached.

Connotations

Gwyntopp Bramblenarg is a slender fellow. He was born and raised in Southern Mozna...his parents worked as bean farmers. They had their own bean plantation, and Gwyntopp feasted on many different kinds of beans each day. His family started out very poor, but they grew wealthier and wealthier as they discovered different types of beans. As a child, Gwyntopp was very optimistic and looked forward to each day. As a child, Gwyntopp was very statuesque. Gwyntopp decided to become vegetarian when he was 12 years old. After that, he was very slender, and was no longer teased by his fellow classmates. Currently, Gwyntopp is a very dedicated vegetarian. He leads his armies through wars....they almost always win. Gwyntopp Bramblenarg has been said to be the best president of all time.

Essay

This was an essay I had to write for school today. Surprisingly, (or not, for people who know me), it took quite a long time!

Robinson Jeffers’ poem, Shine, Perishing Republic presents a pessimistic view of America. In the first paragraph of Jeffers’ poem, he says that protest in America lasts only quickly, then fades out altogether, giving way to a fixed way of American living. He also says, in his poem, that corruption has never been compulsory, that one could always escape from corruption and evil.
I think that America has become both better and worse. Jeffers’ view is still true in some ways, but other aspects of his view of America have changed.
America has improved. Human rights have improved, and so has technology. America has improved hospitals and medicines, and America has many more jobs available than in 1925.
America can still be thought of as a hardening, towering empire. America is still separated into owned pieces, like countries and states. People have different religions, and they have many wars and arguments. America isn’t entirely peaceful. Wars and various disagreements bubble up like hot magma, destroying things ahead.
Today’s America has changed to the better, and to the worse. In some ways, it has stayed the same. A lot of Jeffers’ pessimistic poem still qualifies for America, but some things have changed for the better or for the worse.

Deleted part of "About Me".

I'm making my own website. In class, I'm writing the "About Me" part. I wrote all this in class, but my teacher doesn't think I should put this part on the "About Me" part. It's because it's kind of criticizing my Mom, and she might not like that....she wants me to focus mainly on the music part.


I’ve always wanted a pet. My Dad would be fine with a pet, but my Mom isn’t too fond of animals. I don’t know why. Why wouldn’t somebody like animals? I’m clueless. She wouldn’t even have to take care of him/her. I would do all the work, gladly. It wouldn’t even be work for me.
But she’s not really too keen on getting a pet. So I’ve been making deals with her, but she hasn’t really stuck to any of them. First, she wanted me to clean my room every single morning for two weeks, in order to get a pet. And I did....every single morning. That was in December. Since she didn’t stick to that one, I made another deal with her: I’d write 150 poems, in twenty days, so that I could get a pet. I wrote 153 poems, actually. Still no pet. That was in March. I had even increased my piano practice to 2 hours a day! (I used to play just an hour and fifteen minutes of piano, and an hour of violin). And I just made a new deal with my Mom....that I would write another 100 poems. This time I’m going to be smart and write up a contract for her to sign. She is going to have to get me a pet. She promised....about 4 times! I’m still waiting.....And I was supposed to get a pet by Christmas. I love animals. The two things I love most are music and animals.

A letter to a fictional character. I had to write it for class. It's supposed to be from May 1863

Dear James,
Food is very little for us. I’m thinking about planting some more of the seeds I’ve saved up over time. We could have some squash and kale, and some carrots. I’ve planted a small garden for the pigs,Pasado, Flossy, and Napoleon. Hopefully it will be enough. I planted pumpkin, squash, and kale seeds just for them. I also let them roam about in the forest to munch on a few roots and such. I think that they will be fine, although they are very thin and scrawny.
As for us, I just finished a small boiled potato for breakfast. I’m still ravenous...you know I have a grand appetite!
Aunt Alice recently suggested I enroll in the military. I told her that I thought I would be much better use at home. Carrie was sobbing uncontrollably, hanging to Aunt Alice’s dress, demanding that I stay at home. Carrie cried that I would die, just like father had. Aunt Alice broke into tears and told me that I really didn’t have to enroll....it was just a brief thought. She said she would fight in the military if she were a man.
I admire your courageousness, James, for I have not even a small speck of braveness in my rattling bones. I would be so very frightened if I were to fight in the army. I would die on the battlefield in a second, but of panic. I hope all is well with you...
Sincerely,
Ezra

Well, here's another dull, rainy day. There isn't even a speck of blue sky.....
Here I am, lying in bed at 11:35 a.m. I feel dizzy, and my stomach is upset. I didn't eat anything peculiar, though.......
I've gotten a bit better, though, this past hour. Hopefully it'll be gone soon.
I have to get on to doing math....I'll have to do it lying down, I suppose......
I wish I didn't feel so truly awful. Every time I move I feel really dizzy and I lose my balance. Urrggh...I wish I could play piano or violin right now.....

Well, here's another dull, rainy day. There isn't even a speck of blue sky.....
Here I am, lying in bed at 11:35 a.m. I feel dizzy, and my stomach is upset. I didn't eat anything peculiar, though.......
I've gotten a bit better, though, this past hour. Hopefully it'll be gone soon.
I have to get on to doing math....I'll have to do it lying down, I suppose......
I wish I didn't feel so truly awful. Every time I move I feel really dizzy and I lose my balance. Urrggh...I wish I could play piano or violin right now.....

I will start this out by saying that I don't eat fish anymore. I'm trying not to eat any type of sea-food. I don't really like shimp and scallops, anyway. Next time we go to the store I'm going to get one of those fake meats. I wonder if they actually taste anything like ham or beef? I never really liked eating beef, anyway.
There is a humongous man staying in our house....to be precise, in my room. This is rather unfortunate, because he smokes (although not inside, thank goodness), and he stunk up my room with a smokey smell. Also, I keep on strolling into my room, because I'm very used to it, only to remember that it is now temporarily his room. I've been sleeping in my mom's room for the past week. Her bed is gigantic....terribly huge!
The Chinese man that is staying here is doing a sort of documentary about my sister. I absolutely DESPISE being on camera. It's so embarassing. Today me and my sister had to dance to corny music while he video-taped us. Ugh. It was very embarassing. Terrible.
Anyways, the doorbell just rung. I suppose I better go.
Hmm. The upstairs smells disgusting. Goodbye, of course. I have to eat dinner with several Chinese relatives, and of course that Chinese man. The huge Chinese man.
Bye.

Today I woke up at nine a.m and read about yoga until ten, when my mom yelled at me about three times to get dressed and eat breakfast. We had oatmeal for breakfast. I'm under the impression that oatmeal tastes better without maple syrup. At about ten thirty, I started painting some elephants on a flat canvas. It turned out a mess. The elephant painting I'm doing is for part of my homework. I'm not even an eighth done yet, and it's due tomorrow! My mom promised she would talk to our teacher about how we were really busy the past couple weeks, and how we were unable to finish all our homework. My mom's the principal, so Beastie (my teacher) should listen to her. I still want to get my painting done, though, even though it looks terrible (my sister and my Mom think otherwise).

There's only three days until I get a Guinea Pig! That's also kind of unfortunate, though, because I STILL haven't gotten around to convincing my mom. I feel like I really need a pet. I've been waiting five months. It's too bad I can't get a cat, though, because that's what I really wanted in the first place. But a Guinea Pig will do just fine. I really like Guinea Pigs now, and I've read five books about them. I'm a supreme expert on Guinea Pigs. I even did a presentation in school about them not too long ago. Right now my desktop (on my computer) is a picture of a Guinea Pig. It's really cute, too. I'd like to adopt a Guinea Pig, from the "Best Rodent Rabbit Ferret House" in Seattle. It smells a bit like a barn there, but I like the smell of barns, for somet reason. It kind of smelled like hay. There were little "degus" there, they're really funny little creatures. I liked the ferrets the best...they're really curious animals, but pretty hard to take care of. Ferrets like stealing things, and hiding them in places. I can't wait for Saturday. We don't have Chinese Class on Saturday, so it's just the perfect time for purchasing a Guinea Pig or two. And we can buy all the supplies at the adoption place, too. They have all kinds of stuff. I want an extra-large cage for my Guinea Pig.

But whatever can I do to convince my mom? Sometimes I wish my mom wasn't the head of the family. It doesn't usually work out. She makes all the decisions, and also, she isn't very tolerant. I can't ask her about getting a pet without her getting really, really mad. I've grown terrified of asking her anything about pets.

Well, hello again. It's been quite a long time since I've written here. I guess, not long in my standards, but still not a tiny block of time.
I've been busy preparing for a horrible, lousy, terrible test. I always hate big tests. Especially if I've arranged my time so that I have to read four huge chapters of a big highschool history textbook in two days. Ah, me. Life is fine. It's kind of nice being busy, at least with things that you like doing. I like violin and piano....And I DISLIKE the test. The test is tomorrow and I'm wasting all my time writing here. I still have three more humongous chapters to read through. It's horrible. Brutal. Evil. It's one of those things that makes you want to rip all your hair out. I HATE TESTS. I also detest homework. All homework....although I do kind of like doing homework that's all neat and printed out. I'm sort of odd that way.
By golly, I sure really can't wait to get a guinea pig! I find it fascinating to read all about guinea pigs.....I just can't WAIT to get a pet! It will be so gorgeously, utterly TERRIFFIC!! Even better than getting seven hundred dollars! Maybe even one thousand! I suppose I shall have to get back to reading that dull History book for that dull test tomorrow.
That evil, detestable, horrible, horiffic, terrible, stupid, dumb, garphbuggle, ephanlelable, phalange, disgusting, blechable idiotic horribly gigantic test.
Ugh.
Yours truly,
A.J.

Part of my story

PART 1

The morning sun drifted out of the white clouds, creating a hot muggy day. Midgets
T-shirt stuck to his back, his endless sweat creating quite an annoyance. He was lying in the green grass, avoiding the moist yellow patches he knew a dog named Monster had a habit of peeing on. Midget could hear the gales of laughter children across the road were emitting; they were running around for school recess.
Midget scrounged around in his pocket until his hand touched the surface of his peanut-butter candy bar he had put in there a week ago. Midget had a habit of not changing his clothes very often. It was alright, his mother didn’t care. His mother didn’t change her clothes very often, either. She was quite lazy, although she did seem to exercise daily. Midget’s mother was downtown again, getting yet another haircut. Her blonde hair was so short these days, and Midget complained about it to her, but his mother didn’t speak, she just walked away, stiff and rigid. Sometimes she was like that, very sensitive at times.
“Midgetine Carlos?”
It was his mother’s voice. Only his mother called him that, although Midget had told her countless times to stop calling him that. It was an embarrassing name. Midget hadn’t heard his mother’s car pull up in the drive-way; he had been too busy daydreaming.
“Yeah, mom?”
“Midgetine, we’re moving.”
Midget looked up, bewildered.
“NO!” He said, very alarmed at the prospect.
“I am not moving again! Never!”
At this he turned and ran down the grey and dusty street, not looking behind him. Midget could suddenly hear the scream of his mother,
“MIDGET!! WATCH OUT, THERE’S A CAR BEHIND YOU!!”

PART 2

The car collided with Midget. He could hear his bones rattle inside his body when the car hit him; it felt as if he were being smashed, pulverized, into a mushy pulp. The kind of thing witches made, for their potions. The kind of thing aliens mixed you up into once you got sucked into their UFO.
He could hear the sickening sound of a bone cracking. His bone cracking; and he could feel the distinct pain that came after it. He could hear the growl of the car’s motor, right above him. He could see the blue sky, and the clouds of moisture skimming along. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t want to. It felt like time was going in slow-motion. He bounced up into thin air, it was like he was flying for a few seconds, and his mouth was open because he was so surprised, but his eyes were scrunched up from pain. Then he hit the cold, hard ground, and he felt the rush of salty blood crowd up in his mouth, and he saw a rather large chip of his tooth fall right out of his mouth. The car screeched to a halt, and Midget lay, eyes-closed, on the road.
“MIDGET!!” His mother screamed. Midget could hear how frightened she was, in her voice. He could also tell that she was weeping very badly.
He heard the deep voice of….His father. It was his father’s voice.
Midget’s heart was beating hard in his chest. It took him a minute to recollect his thoughts. He was running down the road…a car…His father’s voice, his mother screaming at Midget….She said there was a car behind him. That was it. It was a car that had hit him. His…his father’s car that had hit him.

Midget’s mother spoke in Midget’s ear, softly, a whisper, and Midget could tell she was still crying.
“Oh, Midgetine….Oh, no….Are you alright?”
Midget managed to nod his head, but a sharp pain struck his neck.
He tried to mumble, “Ouch.” But only a soft gurgle came from his mouth.
“Hold on, Midget, I’m calling the police, and the emergency too.”

Evil diabolical homework

I was almost going to write a song about how evil homework is. Sigh. It's terrible the way teachers torture children in America. First they stuff them with cupcakes and bags full of chips, second they pile useless homework up on them, and third they shoo them away.
"Bye bye, now...Out the door you go!"
Now I wouldn't mind the chips and cupcakes, but it's just plain silly, all those parties they have. At least at the Elementary school my friend goes to. Horribly disturbing.

A post on Vegetarianism. And fish-eating.

I formally announce that I am a vegetarian. Eh, well, except for my sea-food eating habits, that is.
Yesterday, (we had guests over, and they brought take-out food), I accidentaly ate beef, because my mom had said it was oysters! She actually meant that it had oyster sauce on it. After a few pieces I suddenly realized that it definately was NOT oysters. I felt very pukish at the moment. I was very tempted to try the duck, and the fried chicken, but I resisted the urge.
Hmph, this is turning out to be a very short post, for I have to get my homework done, or I'll be under the wrath and torture of my teacher.