Swirling
A blur
A shreik in the distance
Every color melting
Collapse
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Life
Passion and hope
Giving joy and determination
Flickering power
Knowing confidence
I see her dreaming up her future
Know she can do anything
Full of life
Giving joy and determination
Flickering power
Knowing confidence
I see her dreaming up her future
Know she can do anything
Full of life
A Rainy Day at the Beach
Wet drops chill the dull ocean. Ripples expand continuously as I listen to the "pitter, patter, pitter, patter" of the rain drops. All around me is the soggy sand, and sand castles are melting. I see the shadowy sky and feel the stillness and peace. As an icy rain drop lands on my hair, I giggle and listen to the echoes of my laughter. It sounds as though a million people are laughing at the other end of the ocean. "Maybe there are," I think, "but for now I'm alone."
Sunday, April 23, 2006
In the Midst of Reality
why dream when rigid pain shimmers
purple metaphor is raw
dead canvas then captures
deep impressions appear
original passion
vivid music
Note: For the three poems entitled In the Midst of Reality, Peace, and The Artist, I was crazy and wacko and playing with Magnetic Poetry. Well, now you know what happens when you combine the two.
purple metaphor is raw
dead canvas then captures
deep impressions appear
original passion
vivid music
Note: For the three poems entitled In the Midst of Reality, Peace, and The Artist, I was crazy and wacko and playing with Magnetic Poetry. Well, now you know what happens when you combine the two.
The Artist
in my dream the nice queen swims with me
under water over the mountain through the woods
she very softly laughs in the ocean
and I laugh at the moon at night
a spaceship slowly sings a song
but the end comes out
my mom wakes me up
once upon a time
I am an artist
under water over the mountain through the woods
she very softly laughs in the ocean
and I laugh at the moon at night
a spaceship slowly sings a song
but the end comes out
my mom wakes me up
once upon a time
I am an artist
Peace
your star wish was happy magic
pink summer morning
of warm mud
whisper and pretend
laugh with love
sing slow white water
peace is black
pink summer morning
of warm mud
whisper and pretend
laugh with love
sing slow white water
peace is black
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Lady
"I'll give you one last chance before I throw you in the dump." Would I survive with my horrible owner towering over me? I couldn't see why he was so mean to me. He did have a hard life being divorced and all. But that was no excuse to treat a sweet little animal like me so harshly. I cringed back and crawled under the table. The crack of the cruel boss's whip hitting me burst my eardrum. I felt the little bits of dirt in my fur which my owner wouldn't wash, and I felt sick because of my aching ribs and almost no fur. My stomach let out a thunderous growl, and I suffered the emptiness of being fed only three times a week. I couldn't help inching to my master and jumping on him as I begged so much for just one more scoop of food. Of course I didn't receive it. Instead, my master shouted, "That's it! You, dumb dog, are coming with me!"
The trash can smelled like every kind of perfume mixed together, and I felt slimy, old food all over me. I felt hot, humid rain on my raggedy fur and saw black rain clouds across the sky. I watched the cars on the street, hoping maybe one kind person would take me. The milliseconds turned to seconds, the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to hours. Whatever time it was, there I was in the trash can, invisible and waiting. "Screeeeeech!" Suddenly, I heard a car pull over, and a lady jogged toward me. Was she going to be sweet and gentle, or would she treat me inhumanely like my old home? I wagged my tail and jumped up in the trash can. I barked, so I knew her attention would definitely be on me. When she approached me, she checked me over, picked me up in her warm arms, ran back to her bright cherry car with me and a satisfied smile, and sped away.
"Whoever threw the dog in the dump is who I'm super mad at!" I heard the lady declare. I definitely agreed with her.
"You are right on that, Mom. Can we keep her?" Was the young girl talking about me? I sure hoped so.
"We'll see, honey." We'll see? Oh, I hoped I saw soon. I'd been through enough waiting. I wanted to belong to this family badly. The car was so joyful as everyone was talking, laughing, and stroking my back. It was the first time I'd ever been petted, and I realized this was extremely relaxing. There was a girl who looked about the age of nine, a man who acted like the girl's dad, and of course the lady, who was presumably the mom. Also, there was a pretty teenager who kept grinning at me. I could tell the family like me a lot. I sniffed the air, and for a change, I smelled a huge, juicy bone, and soon that bone was in my mouth! For the first time in my life, I gobbled down a treat in the middle of the day. Today was the day a lot of my first-times took place. I licked the people I hoped to be my owners all over. If they kept me, I had a feeling I was going to love their place. I thought I was in a heavenly dream as life was going wonderfully.
Everyone got out of the car to arrive at an enormous brick house with a door that said, "ALABAMA VET'S OFFICE. OPEN ALL DAY." What was a vet's office? The family inspected me thoughtfully, and the lady took me inside the office. What was going to happen? I looked at the desk that had papers all over it, and then the long halls with different rooms and enormous white tables. At the end of the hall, there was a scale. Would someone put me on the table and do something to me? I hoped they'd put me on the table and give me another bone, but somehow I knew this wasn't going to happen. A nurse led the lady and me through the hallway and finally stopped at a room. She laid me at a table, and then a tall man holding a shot stepped inside the room. My heart beat like a hammer as the man pierced my skin with a needle. Then, he announced that I had a disease called worms, so I would have to stay at the office for a few days. I thought I'd go home with a kind family. The lady reached out her hand and stroked me, and after that, she left.
The next few days at the office were terrible. The piercing shots hurt so bad that I didn't feel like moving. I dreaded the frigid baths that made me shiver and shake. The smell of sickening sterility filled the air around me and the first night, I thought just maybe the food would be good, but oh, no, it was canned and flavorless. Oh, how I wished the kind family would come back.
Each day, I would pick my head up every time someone came inside my room and bawl. But no one was there to take me home. All people did was sadly smile. No one understood a dog's life.
By the sixth day, I gave up hope that I would ever leave the office. I'd just stay there the rest of my life, never getting well. Now I just shivered, wondering why my life had to be this way. I didn't think I was a bad puppy.
As the days passed, I grew sadder and sadder, until the tenth day. On that day, a nurse walked into my room with a warm smile and exclaimed,"You're all better now! Are you ready to go home?"
I howled and ran all around the office. But which home was it? I ran out of my room to the front desk to see the nice lady check me out of the office. I hoped she'd never take me here again. As I jumped on her, she cooed, "Are you ready to go home? You're all better now! Are you happy, sweetie? Come on into the car."
I was placed into the car and driven home. When we arrived there, I realized my new home was casual and fun compared to my old home. My old home was all black while this had colorful walls, books, magazines, and a TV.
I felt myself being laid on a cushiony sofa. Curling up, I remembered what it was like at my old owner's house. I shivered but decided never again to give up hope or happiness, for I knew now that things can always turn out for the best. I'm still at this house, and I'm queen of it. I lie on my owner's beds with my head on their pillow. They don't punish me for pretty much anything. I even have a new name called Lady. How do you like that? I love it; I love it just as much as I love my new home where I'm treated right. Life's great!
The trash can smelled like every kind of perfume mixed together, and I felt slimy, old food all over me. I felt hot, humid rain on my raggedy fur and saw black rain clouds across the sky. I watched the cars on the street, hoping maybe one kind person would take me. The milliseconds turned to seconds, the seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes turned to hours. Whatever time it was, there I was in the trash can, invisible and waiting. "Screeeeeech!" Suddenly, I heard a car pull over, and a lady jogged toward me. Was she going to be sweet and gentle, or would she treat me inhumanely like my old home? I wagged my tail and jumped up in the trash can. I barked, so I knew her attention would definitely be on me. When she approached me, she checked me over, picked me up in her warm arms, ran back to her bright cherry car with me and a satisfied smile, and sped away.
"Whoever threw the dog in the dump is who I'm super mad at!" I heard the lady declare. I definitely agreed with her.
"You are right on that, Mom. Can we keep her?" Was the young girl talking about me? I sure hoped so.
"We'll see, honey." We'll see? Oh, I hoped I saw soon. I'd been through enough waiting. I wanted to belong to this family badly. The car was so joyful as everyone was talking, laughing, and stroking my back. It was the first time I'd ever been petted, and I realized this was extremely relaxing. There was a girl who looked about the age of nine, a man who acted like the girl's dad, and of course the lady, who was presumably the mom. Also, there was a pretty teenager who kept grinning at me. I could tell the family like me a lot. I sniffed the air, and for a change, I smelled a huge, juicy bone, and soon that bone was in my mouth! For the first time in my life, I gobbled down a treat in the middle of the day. Today was the day a lot of my first-times took place. I licked the people I hoped to be my owners all over. If they kept me, I had a feeling I was going to love their place. I thought I was in a heavenly dream as life was going wonderfully.
Everyone got out of the car to arrive at an enormous brick house with a door that said, "ALABAMA VET'S OFFICE. OPEN ALL DAY." What was a vet's office? The family inspected me thoughtfully, and the lady took me inside the office. What was going to happen? I looked at the desk that had papers all over it, and then the long halls with different rooms and enormous white tables. At the end of the hall, there was a scale. Would someone put me on the table and do something to me? I hoped they'd put me on the table and give me another bone, but somehow I knew this wasn't going to happen. A nurse led the lady and me through the hallway and finally stopped at a room. She laid me at a table, and then a tall man holding a shot stepped inside the room. My heart beat like a hammer as the man pierced my skin with a needle. Then, he announced that I had a disease called worms, so I would have to stay at the office for a few days. I thought I'd go home with a kind family. The lady reached out her hand and stroked me, and after that, she left.
The next few days at the office were terrible. The piercing shots hurt so bad that I didn't feel like moving. I dreaded the frigid baths that made me shiver and shake. The smell of sickening sterility filled the air around me and the first night, I thought just maybe the food would be good, but oh, no, it was canned and flavorless. Oh, how I wished the kind family would come back.
Each day, I would pick my head up every time someone came inside my room and bawl. But no one was there to take me home. All people did was sadly smile. No one understood a dog's life.
By the sixth day, I gave up hope that I would ever leave the office. I'd just stay there the rest of my life, never getting well. Now I just shivered, wondering why my life had to be this way. I didn't think I was a bad puppy.
As the days passed, I grew sadder and sadder, until the tenth day. On that day, a nurse walked into my room with a warm smile and exclaimed,"You're all better now! Are you ready to go home?"
I howled and ran all around the office. But which home was it? I ran out of my room to the front desk to see the nice lady check me out of the office. I hoped she'd never take me here again. As I jumped on her, she cooed, "Are you ready to go home? You're all better now! Are you happy, sweetie? Come on into the car."
I was placed into the car and driven home. When we arrived there, I realized my new home was casual and fun compared to my old home. My old home was all black while this had colorful walls, books, magazines, and a TV.
I felt myself being laid on a cushiony sofa. Curling up, I remembered what it was like at my old owner's house. I shivered but decided never again to give up hope or happiness, for I knew now that things can always turn out for the best. I'm still at this house, and I'm queen of it. I lie on my owner's beds with my head on their pillow. They don't punish me for pretty much anything. I even have a new name called Lady. How do you like that? I love it; I love it just as much as I love my new home where I'm treated right. Life's great!
Friday, April 14, 2006
Stay Away
I fear her absurd appearance
Behind my eyes
Is her, who hates the universe
And the way we think
Clouding my dreams
Is her, who knows
That the biggest thing to ever happen
Is death
Be smart
Don't recall the unknown
Make a new friend
Who doesn't believe
I would particularly like comments on the title of this--do you have a suggestion for a better title?
Behind my eyes
Is her, who hates the universe
And the way we think
Clouding my dreams
Is her, who knows
That the biggest thing to ever happen
Is death
Be smart
Don't recall the unknown
Make a new friend
Who doesn't believe
I would particularly like comments on the title of this--do you have a suggestion for a better title?
Thursday, April 13, 2006
The Dr. Pepper Song
Honestly, I don't know why I didn't put this on earlier. I guess I just forgot about it or something! Well anyway here's the famous Dr. Pepper Song--it goes to the tune of Take Me Out to the Ball Game.
Oh, Dr. Pepper's delicious
I want some now
Buy me a Dr. Pepper
Then I'll be bouncing off the walls!
For it's high sugar and caffiene
If that's not in it's a shame
For it's one, two, three sodas
And I'll be hyper now!
Yahoo!
A perfect song for Dr. Pepper lovers (like me!)
Oh, Dr. Pepper's delicious
I want some now
Buy me a Dr. Pepper
Then I'll be bouncing off the walls!
For it's high sugar and caffiene
If that's not in it's a shame
For it's one, two, three sodas
And I'll be hyper now!
Yahoo!
A perfect song for Dr. Pepper lovers (like me!)
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Why Does She Care
Why does she care for me
I'm one thirty first
There's plenty of others
To give dirty smirks
I know I'm bad
So why make me cry
I'm constantly wishing
To die, die, die
Why does she embarrass me
Make me lose my appetite
I can't get her to like me
I'll just lose the fight
Maybe it's just natural
Her unpleasance and ugly glare
Which clearly shows me
She doesn't really care
I should be getting over this
So why can't I do so
Cuz whether she cares or not
She makes my spirits low
I know she's just insecure
It's normal to smile rare
So the question becomes
Why do I really care
I'm one thirty first
There's plenty of others
To give dirty smirks
I know I'm bad
So why make me cry
I'm constantly wishing
To die, die, die
Why does she embarrass me
Make me lose my appetite
I can't get her to like me
I'll just lose the fight
Maybe it's just natural
Her unpleasance and ugly glare
Which clearly shows me
She doesn't really care
I should be getting over this
So why can't I do so
Cuz whether she cares or not
She makes my spirits low
I know she's just insecure
It's normal to smile rare
So the question becomes
Why do I really care
Friday, April 07, 2006
Seeing Friends Again
I get to camp for a summer that's fun
Get outside and enjoy the sun
Unpack my stuff and pick out my bed
Get ready for a blast and look ahead
I'm happy, I'm excited--what did I find?
What I've been waiting for--my friends that are kind
I run to them and they run to me
We can hardly believe what we see
In the circle of girls there are five close friends
Whose changes in everything never end
From getting braces or glasses or contacts or more
To growing taller or bigger or just different from before
We recognize our changes and then we start having fun
Our time together should never be done
Laughing and talking and just being us
Even telling secrets to those whom we trust
After we've missed each other all during the year
Our reunion brings a smile from ear to ear
I have the time of my life seeing my friends from camp once more
That's why those times in the summer are what I adore
Get outside and enjoy the sun
Unpack my stuff and pick out my bed
Get ready for a blast and look ahead
I'm happy, I'm excited--what did I find?
What I've been waiting for--my friends that are kind
I run to them and they run to me
We can hardly believe what we see
In the circle of girls there are five close friends
Whose changes in everything never end
From getting braces or glasses or contacts or more
To growing taller or bigger or just different from before
We recognize our changes and then we start having fun
Our time together should never be done
Laughing and talking and just being us
Even telling secrets to those whom we trust
After we've missed each other all during the year
Our reunion brings a smile from ear to ear
I have the time of my life seeing my friends from camp once more
That's why those times in the summer are what I adore
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Sleepover
I come into a house to spend a wonderful night
A night where everything'll be alright
All my friends arrive and we greet each other
We're so glad to see one another
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
The games start, the secrets spill
We let everything out--what a thrill
We can just be ourselves around our friends
That's why friendship never ends
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
We make each other laugh by our funny stories
We talk and talk about our glories
We tell about embarrassing moments which are really fun
We comfort each other through sad times until they're done
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
From movies to games to chatting our hearts out
And of course pillow fights we can't go without
Pop-corn throwing and singing
Going outside and swinging
Dancing in the dark and having a blast
At sleepovers time just passes so fast
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
It's time to go, but we'll remember the time we spent together
We'll remember the stories and even the weather
We'll remember the friendship--pretty much everything
Because we're thankful for sleepovers and all that they bring.
A night where everything'll be alright
All my friends arrive and we greet each other
We're so glad to see one another
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
The games start, the secrets spill
We let everything out--what a thrill
We can just be ourselves around our friends
That's why friendship never ends
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
We make each other laugh by our funny stories
We talk and talk about our glories
We tell about embarrassing moments which are really fun
We comfort each other through sad times until they're done
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
From movies to games to chatting our hearts out
And of course pillow fights we can't go without
Pop-corn throwing and singing
Going outside and swinging
Dancing in the dark and having a blast
At sleepovers time just passes so fast
Sleepovers are happy, sleepovers bring joy
There, friends can cheer you up so you're ready to enjoy
It's time to go, but we'll remember the time we spent together
We'll remember the stories and even the weather
We'll remember the friendship--pretty much everything
Because we're thankful for sleepovers and all that they bring.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Spit Stories Two: Throw Up Stories
Prologue:
Okay, so you know I'm in college now. But I let you skip a whole ten years of my life! Well you won't get away with that again--here's what happened when I was 11.
Chapter 1:
"Sorry guys, can't play my clarinet today. In P.E. we did the mile." I sat in the middle of my orchestra group explaining why I couldn't do my warm up or pretty much anything else. Every time in P.E. that we had to run the mile, I threw up and then had difficulty breathing. And we all know that the clarinet takes lots of breathing.
"Oh my gosh, not again. Can't you just play a little? I know it's not your fault, but the band really needs you. Otherwise I'll have to take away your lead solo," said Linda, the manager. Take away my solo? That would be horrible, but I guess I really deserved it. After all, if I couldn't practice, I wouldn't do well at the concert. But wasn't there something else I could do?
"Linda, we all know what the mile does to us, right? Gosh, I hate the P.E. teachers," Julie exclaimed.
"Completely agree!" I seconded her thought. Then I thought about starting a campaign that we wouldn't be forced to run the mile. No, a little far-fetched--students wouldn't get that kind of support and would get into big trouble. Besides, how could we do it? It's not like we can just march up to the head master and expect him to agree! Nevertheless, I told the group about my idea.
"No, we would get into too much trouble! There's nothing we can do about it, okay?" rambled Linda. Well of course she wouldn't agree.
"That's a great idea! We could refuse to get our partner's time--"
"And create an underground newspaper--"
"And then when everyone finally agrees, we can tell the head master!" excitedly ended Lucy. I was so happy that my plan would work!
"We'll meet tomorrow," I shouted as I headed home to call Ms. Lisette.
Chapter 2:
"Totally! You need absolute rights to playing the clarinet. I'm all for it. Oops…sorry but I have to go now. I'm making dinner and the over just went off. See you later, Meg!" That was Ms. Lisette after I told her about the plan. We had talked about the first steps and things like that. She had told me that the best idea was to make an underground newspaper and get the whole school informed. I agreed because the more people the better. Then Ms. Lisette said that she would try to recruit some adults who could help. I started typing our newspaper.
The Evils of the Mile
Have you ever thought that running the mile is tiring, cruel, or sickening? Have you ever dreamt of campaigning against it? This is the newspaper for you. Make sure you don't let any teachers get a hold of this secret newspaper because we could get into trouble. When we have an adult, we can start petitioning to teachers. For now, just read the newspapers and get people convinced that running the mile is horrible. Here are a few convincing articles.
Tiring. Julie, a student at this school, gets very tired from having to run. She explains that she was so tired once that she could hardly pedal on the piano, which made a huge difference on the concert. The composition didn't sound as good and we definitely weren't as confident. Most of us run the mile in the middle of the day and we have to go straight back to school work after running it. It isn't very fair that we have to do this, being so exhausted.
Cruel. Lucy hates the mile. She just thinks it's cruel! Each time she runs it, she feels like she's about to pass out. Also, P.E. for her class is right before lunch so she's expected to eat lunch right after running! Isn't that a bit strange? Think of it this way: you run, get very tired and sick, and so you don't have a big appetite. So you're forced to skip lunch! Lucy also once had a huge test right after running, and her head hurt so much from the mile that she got a C on the test. This isn't too bad, but she normally gets As and occasional Bs. How cruel!
Sickening. Meg gets sick each time she runs the mile, and the gym teachers do nothing about it. Meg is forced to stay at school when she feels weak from running, getting sick and then skipping lunch. We definitely need to fix these problems.
This is our first edition. Sorry that it was so short. Please submit to us YOUR stories about running the mile. Also to join our campaign email us.
That was our first edition of the Evils of the Mile. It was short but sweet (and gross). We emailed the newspaper to everyone in the school and crossed our fingers about what would happen tomorrow.
Chapter 3:
Tips on the Protest.
Prepare for Protest.
How to Protest.
The Law about Protesting Peacefully.
What to do When a Teacher gets Mad.
Whose Number to give the Teacher.
Good Lies.
These were a few article names. I sent each one to Ms. Lisette, and she continued to love each one. But, as you probably predicted, the day came when we had to start protesting.
Chapter 4:
"Today we'll be running the mile. I will give you a card for you to write your name and time on once you have finished. Now remember, if you don't complete the mile in seven minutes you'll be running again, so you must try your best this time." At this moment Ms. Bush glanced at me. I glanced at my supporters, and then we all glanced at each other. Then we burst out in giggles.
The giggles didn't last for long, though. Before I knew it I was running around the green track about to throw up. But I didn't feel as headache-y…I guess because I had some hope. And supporters. I glanced behind my shoulder and saw the thumbs up that Julie was signing. She mouthed, "GO! GO! GO!" This was it, and I was actually going to do it. I don't really know how I felt because it was scary to be risking probation or something, but this was totally worth it. If Ms. Lisette said I was doing the right thing, I pretty much was doing the right thing.
I watched in amazement as when my supporters and I slowed to a walk, other kids slowed down too. Some people looked curious, and some looked so happy. A couple boys looked like they wanted to kill us. But that's okay.
"Now why aren't you running?" I waited a long time for someone to answer. Then I knew that I was the leader of this campaign so that someone would be me.
"We aren't running the mile if it's okay," I timidly said.
"DO YOU THINK IT'S OKAY?" yelled Ms. Bush.
"Well, not okay with you, but okay with us. That's what campaigns are for--to make things okay for us, the majority. And maybe you can get a part of the deal too," Linda bravely shouted.
"Yeah, I get so sick every time I run," added Julie. I shoved the Evils of the Mile in Ms. Bush's face. She read over it and gasped. Her face looked like a pinched monkey's face.
"You have two choices. You can give me your parents' numbers and quit this campaign thing or go to the principal's."
"Oh…tough choice," I smirked. I was doing well, wasn't I? "My mom happens to be a strong supporter of this campaign."
"Really…last time I checked she seemed to be fond of physical education."
I must have seemed to hesitate because Linda talked for me. "Women can change their minds," she replied. Ms. Bush narrowed her eyes with her hand on her hip. We all burst out laughing again. Then we looked at the clock and realized that the bell could ring in any second. I gave her Ms. Lisette's number and left.
Chapter 5:
Two months later so much had happened. Well, the campaign went on normally, with lots of protests that got us nowhere, but Linda and I had become best friends. She had given me the BFF necklace, which at our school was a symbol of best friends. I also got a Myspace and got tons of support for my campaign. So you may not think that's a lot, but it really is, because that was the time when I gained my confidence so that I could do much better with the campaign.
Chapter 6:
It happened. It happened! It happened. Can you believe it? My parents found out that I was campaigning and forbade me to type on the computer. Ha--like that would keep the newspaper from going out? Handwriting was fine with the school. My mom would scream at me every day, but you want to know something weird? I didn't care at all. I would just sit through the screams and nod. Then, at school the next day, I would continue campaigning. So that's not what really happened.
The most athletic and popular girl in school, Alicia, signed the petition, which made the petition complete--meaning that everyone in the school had signed it. That's part of what happened…but not what really happened. Again.
On a nice, bright, sunny day (it actually was pouring down rain but what does that matter? We were inside!) Linda and I held a party during free period. We hung huge banners that said "Petition Complete!! Join the celebration!" There was lots of laughter, cake, party hats, and confetti everywhere. Suddenly a big, booming monster entered the doorway. Everyone shrieked and cried for their parents! Just kidding. Here's what really happened: A sweet but professional teacher entered the room, and we all fell silent.
"What are you partying about? Oh…petition complete join the celebration," she read slowly, and then she said rather rapidly, "What are you petitioning about?" I was a little scared, but when Marci, who was a teacher's pet, spoke up, we were all settled.
"We are petitioning so we can make our school better, Ms. Frances. Running the mile makes some of the students unhappy, so we would like to find other ways to pursue athletic interest." Marci had got it. She just knew how to speak with wonderful vocabulary, which was one of the reasons that teachers liked her.
"You have to run the mile? Forgive me, I'm the eighth grade English teacher, so I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to P.E. Did you know I failed it?"
Epilogue:
You get the idea of it now. Of how it happened. Of how we won the campaign! Some campaign it was. Now you know the major event that happened to me before I went to college. And well, that's about it!
No, one more thing. I can tell and retell the many stories of the campaign. Especially to my clarinet teacher. We call the stories Throw Up Stories.
Author's note: In Meg's school, kids who were fine with running the mile still ran it, and no one had a problem with it.
Okay, so you know I'm in college now. But I let you skip a whole ten years of my life! Well you won't get away with that again--here's what happened when I was 11.
Chapter 1:
"Sorry guys, can't play my clarinet today. In P.E. we did the mile." I sat in the middle of my orchestra group explaining why I couldn't do my warm up or pretty much anything else. Every time in P.E. that we had to run the mile, I threw up and then had difficulty breathing. And we all know that the clarinet takes lots of breathing.
"Oh my gosh, not again. Can't you just play a little? I know it's not your fault, but the band really needs you. Otherwise I'll have to take away your lead solo," said Linda, the manager. Take away my solo? That would be horrible, but I guess I really deserved it. After all, if I couldn't practice, I wouldn't do well at the concert. But wasn't there something else I could do?
"Linda, we all know what the mile does to us, right? Gosh, I hate the P.E. teachers," Julie exclaimed.
"Completely agree!" I seconded her thought. Then I thought about starting a campaign that we wouldn't be forced to run the mile. No, a little far-fetched--students wouldn't get that kind of support and would get into big trouble. Besides, how could we do it? It's not like we can just march up to the head master and expect him to agree! Nevertheless, I told the group about my idea.
"No, we would get into too much trouble! There's nothing we can do about it, okay?" rambled Linda. Well of course she wouldn't agree.
"That's a great idea! We could refuse to get our partner's time--"
"And create an underground newspaper--"
"And then when everyone finally agrees, we can tell the head master!" excitedly ended Lucy. I was so happy that my plan would work!
"We'll meet tomorrow," I shouted as I headed home to call Ms. Lisette.
Chapter 2:
"Totally! You need absolute rights to playing the clarinet. I'm all for it. Oops…sorry but I have to go now. I'm making dinner and the over just went off. See you later, Meg!" That was Ms. Lisette after I told her about the plan. We had talked about the first steps and things like that. She had told me that the best idea was to make an underground newspaper and get the whole school informed. I agreed because the more people the better. Then Ms. Lisette said that she would try to recruit some adults who could help. I started typing our newspaper.
The Evils of the Mile
Have you ever thought that running the mile is tiring, cruel, or sickening? Have you ever dreamt of campaigning against it? This is the newspaper for you. Make sure you don't let any teachers get a hold of this secret newspaper because we could get into trouble. When we have an adult, we can start petitioning to teachers. For now, just read the newspapers and get people convinced that running the mile is horrible. Here are a few convincing articles.
Tiring. Julie, a student at this school, gets very tired from having to run. She explains that she was so tired once that she could hardly pedal on the piano, which made a huge difference on the concert. The composition didn't sound as good and we definitely weren't as confident. Most of us run the mile in the middle of the day and we have to go straight back to school work after running it. It isn't very fair that we have to do this, being so exhausted.
Cruel. Lucy hates the mile. She just thinks it's cruel! Each time she runs it, she feels like she's about to pass out. Also, P.E. for her class is right before lunch so she's expected to eat lunch right after running! Isn't that a bit strange? Think of it this way: you run, get very tired and sick, and so you don't have a big appetite. So you're forced to skip lunch! Lucy also once had a huge test right after running, and her head hurt so much from the mile that she got a C on the test. This isn't too bad, but she normally gets As and occasional Bs. How cruel!
Sickening. Meg gets sick each time she runs the mile, and the gym teachers do nothing about it. Meg is forced to stay at school when she feels weak from running, getting sick and then skipping lunch. We definitely need to fix these problems.
This is our first edition. Sorry that it was so short. Please submit to us YOUR stories about running the mile. Also to join our campaign email us.
That was our first edition of the Evils of the Mile. It was short but sweet (and gross). We emailed the newspaper to everyone in the school and crossed our fingers about what would happen tomorrow.
Chapter 3:
Tips on the Protest.
Prepare for Protest.
How to Protest.
The Law about Protesting Peacefully.
What to do When a Teacher gets Mad.
Whose Number to give the Teacher.
Good Lies.
These were a few article names. I sent each one to Ms. Lisette, and she continued to love each one. But, as you probably predicted, the day came when we had to start protesting.
Chapter 4:
"Today we'll be running the mile. I will give you a card for you to write your name and time on once you have finished. Now remember, if you don't complete the mile in seven minutes you'll be running again, so you must try your best this time." At this moment Ms. Bush glanced at me. I glanced at my supporters, and then we all glanced at each other. Then we burst out in giggles.
The giggles didn't last for long, though. Before I knew it I was running around the green track about to throw up. But I didn't feel as headache-y…I guess because I had some hope. And supporters. I glanced behind my shoulder and saw the thumbs up that Julie was signing. She mouthed, "GO! GO! GO!" This was it, and I was actually going to do it. I don't really know how I felt because it was scary to be risking probation or something, but this was totally worth it. If Ms. Lisette said I was doing the right thing, I pretty much was doing the right thing.
I watched in amazement as when my supporters and I slowed to a walk, other kids slowed down too. Some people looked curious, and some looked so happy. A couple boys looked like they wanted to kill us. But that's okay.
"Now why aren't you running?" I waited a long time for someone to answer. Then I knew that I was the leader of this campaign so that someone would be me.
"We aren't running the mile if it's okay," I timidly said.
"DO YOU THINK IT'S OKAY?" yelled Ms. Bush.
"Well, not okay with you, but okay with us. That's what campaigns are for--to make things okay for us, the majority. And maybe you can get a part of the deal too," Linda bravely shouted.
"Yeah, I get so sick every time I run," added Julie. I shoved the Evils of the Mile in Ms. Bush's face. She read over it and gasped. Her face looked like a pinched monkey's face.
"You have two choices. You can give me your parents' numbers and quit this campaign thing or go to the principal's."
"Oh…tough choice," I smirked. I was doing well, wasn't I? "My mom happens to be a strong supporter of this campaign."
"Really…last time I checked she seemed to be fond of physical education."
I must have seemed to hesitate because Linda talked for me. "Women can change their minds," she replied. Ms. Bush narrowed her eyes with her hand on her hip. We all burst out laughing again. Then we looked at the clock and realized that the bell could ring in any second. I gave her Ms. Lisette's number and left.
Chapter 5:
Two months later so much had happened. Well, the campaign went on normally, with lots of protests that got us nowhere, but Linda and I had become best friends. She had given me the BFF necklace, which at our school was a symbol of best friends. I also got a Myspace and got tons of support for my campaign. So you may not think that's a lot, but it really is, because that was the time when I gained my confidence so that I could do much better with the campaign.
Chapter 6:
It happened. It happened! It happened. Can you believe it? My parents found out that I was campaigning and forbade me to type on the computer. Ha--like that would keep the newspaper from going out? Handwriting was fine with the school. My mom would scream at me every day, but you want to know something weird? I didn't care at all. I would just sit through the screams and nod. Then, at school the next day, I would continue campaigning. So that's not what really happened.
The most athletic and popular girl in school, Alicia, signed the petition, which made the petition complete--meaning that everyone in the school had signed it. That's part of what happened…but not what really happened. Again.
On a nice, bright, sunny day (it actually was pouring down rain but what does that matter? We were inside!) Linda and I held a party during free period. We hung huge banners that said "Petition Complete!! Join the celebration!" There was lots of laughter, cake, party hats, and confetti everywhere. Suddenly a big, booming monster entered the doorway. Everyone shrieked and cried for their parents! Just kidding. Here's what really happened: A sweet but professional teacher entered the room, and we all fell silent.
"What are you partying about? Oh…petition complete join the celebration," she read slowly, and then she said rather rapidly, "What are you petitioning about?" I was a little scared, but when Marci, who was a teacher's pet, spoke up, we were all settled.
"We are petitioning so we can make our school better, Ms. Frances. Running the mile makes some of the students unhappy, so we would like to find other ways to pursue athletic interest." Marci had got it. She just knew how to speak with wonderful vocabulary, which was one of the reasons that teachers liked her.
"You have to run the mile? Forgive me, I'm the eighth grade English teacher, so I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to P.E. Did you know I failed it?"
Epilogue:
You get the idea of it now. Of how it happened. Of how we won the campaign! Some campaign it was. Now you know the major event that happened to me before I went to college. And well, that's about it!
No, one more thing. I can tell and retell the many stories of the campaign. Especially to my clarinet teacher. We call the stories Throw Up Stories.
Author's note: In Meg's school, kids who were fine with running the mile still ran it, and no one had a problem with it.
Monday, March 06, 2006
A Little Spec that is Still Here
Sometimes I think my life is just my life
Not anything important
It doesn't matter if I fail a test
Do something bad
Betray a friend
Lose a race
It doesn't matter who I am
What I do
It's not worth caring about
Sometimes it's relieving
That whatever happens doesn't matter
That the world will end soon enough
Sometimes it's scary
Tht I'm living
And trying to live
For no reason
My life is just a spec
In this gigantic universe
Sometimes the thought is just there
There to think on
Or ignore
But most of all I just know
That I have to live
No matter what my life is
I'm here
Not anything important
It doesn't matter if I fail a test
Do something bad
Betray a friend
Lose a race
It doesn't matter who I am
What I do
It's not worth caring about
Sometimes it's relieving
That whatever happens doesn't matter
That the world will end soon enough
Sometimes it's scary
Tht I'm living
And trying to live
For no reason
My life is just a spec
In this gigantic universe
Sometimes the thought is just there
There to think on
Or ignore
But most of all I just know
That I have to live
No matter what my life is
I'm here
Friday, March 03, 2006
The Campaign
We're a room full of girls who want things to be different
Wondering where the old ways, old times, the true leaders went
The ways of modern days are extremely untrue
People don't accept ya for just being you
We need to look at our leaders in a new way
To no celeb ever goes a yay
We should respect girls for what they do and what they say
It's time for real beauty to enter our place
So, this room full of girls, let's get on the case
Step away from the mirror
No look-worrying allowed right here
Turn against the media--they're totally wrong
Real beauty will take over, it won't be long
Back off from the celebs, the People Magazine
Instead read Newmoon, be a true beauty queen
Remember we're girls--we can win this campaign
Keep your mind on the media and real beauty will reign
We know that inside counts and that's real good
Now let's spread it to the world and make real beauty understood
Wondering where the old ways, old times, the true leaders went
The ways of modern days are extremely untrue
People don't accept ya for just being you
We need to look at our leaders in a new way
To no celeb ever goes a yay
We should respect girls for what they do and what they say
It's time for real beauty to enter our place
So, this room full of girls, let's get on the case
Step away from the mirror
No look-worrying allowed right here
Turn against the media--they're totally wrong
Real beauty will take over, it won't be long
Back off from the celebs, the People Magazine
Instead read Newmoon, be a true beauty queen
Remember we're girls--we can win this campaign
Keep your mind on the media and real beauty will reign
We know that inside counts and that's real good
Now let's spread it to the world and make real beauty understood
I Want to be a Skater
I want to follow my dream of skating
But something inside me says no
Maybe it's that I'm scared to fall
Or afraid to be the worst
I want to just get a start
And see what I can do
But if I completely fail
My hopes will shatter like glass
Sometimes I think
I'm better where I am
Hoping that I can follow my dreams
And still knowing that I can't
I know if I try
I might not stand a chance
But if I sit here and dream
I can always be in the spotlight beam
When I'm at the rink
Watching others skate
I feel like skating in the middle
What could happen if I fall?
But then
I come back to reality
And stare at the words on this page
People think I'm fine with writing
Inside I'd rather skate
As time passes it is too late
Skaters start training early
And I'm almost a teenager
I look good to the public
Everything seems fine
I guess I'll just be thankful
For what's on the outside
But in my mind I'll never give up hope
To achieve my skating dream
I'll be that skater in my soul
But a writer on the surface
I'm not sure if this is what I really want
But I know
That no matter what dream I follow
I'll live
But something inside me says no
Maybe it's that I'm scared to fall
Or afraid to be the worst
I want to just get a start
And see what I can do
But if I completely fail
My hopes will shatter like glass
Sometimes I think
I'm better where I am
Hoping that I can follow my dreams
And still knowing that I can't
I know if I try
I might not stand a chance
But if I sit here and dream
I can always be in the spotlight beam
When I'm at the rink
Watching others skate
I feel like skating in the middle
What could happen if I fall?
But then
I come back to reality
And stare at the words on this page
People think I'm fine with writing
Inside I'd rather skate
As time passes it is too late
Skaters start training early
And I'm almost a teenager
I look good to the public
Everything seems fine
I guess I'll just be thankful
For what's on the outside
But in my mind I'll never give up hope
To achieve my skating dream
I'll be that skater in my soul
But a writer on the surface
I'm not sure if this is what I really want
But I know
That no matter what dream I follow
I'll live
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Poem: Always Invisible but I Still Belong Here
People choose to not listen
Ignore how I act
Look at me but glance away
Never turn back
They realize I have feelings
Just don't want to admit
Won't ever befriend me
Act like they forget it
I know I don't belong here
Should I leave this place?
Or does someone respect me
That's scared of disrespect they'll face?
What should I do--is it good to leave or stay?
Where is the next place I might be?
Would I belong there?
Would I be happy?
I realize I've got to escape
I can't let life hand me bad
Besides, I can take the change I'll get
I'll live my new life like I'm mad
Now I'm where I really belong
Where I am listened to
I make a difference in the world
People take a look at me and discover my own view
I wonder if I'll ever return
To the place I once did leave
I wonder if I'd make a difference now
Or if no one would even grieve
I'll never forget the place I'm from
Even if they've forgotten me
And even though I'll never forget
I'll just stay here, you see
I escaped the invisible state
I escaped from being unheard
But, see, I'm still invisible
To those in that other world
I'll always be invisible
But some good my adventure did bring
Right now I'm in the place I belong
Which is the most important thing
Ignore how I act
Look at me but glance away
Never turn back
They realize I have feelings
Just don't want to admit
Won't ever befriend me
Act like they forget it
I know I don't belong here
Should I leave this place?
Or does someone respect me
That's scared of disrespect they'll face?
What should I do--is it good to leave or stay?
Where is the next place I might be?
Would I belong there?
Would I be happy?
I realize I've got to escape
I can't let life hand me bad
Besides, I can take the change I'll get
I'll live my new life like I'm mad
Now I'm where I really belong
Where I am listened to
I make a difference in the world
People take a look at me and discover my own view
I wonder if I'll ever return
To the place I once did leave
I wonder if I'd make a difference now
Or if no one would even grieve
I'll never forget the place I'm from
Even if they've forgotten me
And even though I'll never forget
I'll just stay here, you see
I escaped the invisible state
I escaped from being unheard
But, see, I'm still invisible
To those in that other world
I'll always be invisible
But some good my adventure did bring
Right now I'm in the place I belong
Which is the most important thing
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Song: Count Down
I made a song with my friend Kira. It's hard because you won't know the tune, but you could just read it as a poem.
I wake up every mornin keeping everything in tight
Don't bother d'manding freedom cuz I'll just lose the fight
I'll just stay here wishing to breakaway
Even though I'd trade this for freedom any day
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Days in fall pass slowly and sadly
I want my basic freedoms for real and badly
I wanna say what I need to say and be listened to
Not be invisible with nothin' to do
The only way is to leave my place that's lame
But seasons turn slowly and that's a real shame
I'm 'onna a count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Right now it's winter--structured and cold
Want it to be summer--freedom that's bold
Then I can wake up and be listened to
Do a back flip in the sand if that's what I wanna do
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Finally it's spring--count down's not long
Links comin' off the paper chain as I sing this song
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
People think I'm free since I'm not in jail
But I'm not listened to and away I can't sail
Every day I do stuff on behalf another's thought
What if I don't want to buy what they've already bought?
What if I don't want to do what they've already done?
What if all I want is my very own fun?
I'm 'onna countdown till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Summer at last!
I can have a blast!
I Board the Plane,
Seein' some friends.
As I talk, it'll never end!
Finally, freedom is here again,
no chores, just freedom-
let's begiiiiin!
See the people I wanna see,
maybe not all,
but whatever I want can be!
'Cause SUMMER is what I deamand!
And SUMMER, hand in hand!
Summer is here!
Have no fear!
I've been doing a lot
On these days that are hot
Playin' at the pool
Goin' on water rides that are cool
Buyin' my favorite sweet
New friends I meet
Goin' places I like
Like a fun, challenging hike
Jumpin' off the blob
Feeling freedom in one big glob
Choosin' what I wanna do
Not like other places I've been tooooo!
Yahhhhhhh!!
Come on, come on! Come on, come on! Enjoy that freedom!
Come on, come on, come on come on! Enjoy that freedom!
Yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Days spin fast
When fun is cast
It happens not even in a day
It's over but I want to stay!
Please let me stay more days--at least ten
Don't make me count down all over again!
This is the part where freedom ends
I guess I'll have to wait till next summer to enjoy it again
So I'm on my count down once more
No freedom, just structure, what a bore!
A life time of freedom just passed away
I guess the good moments just don't stay
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days--I just need 'em
I wake up every mornin keeping everything in tight
Don't bother d'manding freedom cuz I'll just lose the fight
I'll just stay here wishing to breakaway
Even though I'd trade this for freedom any day
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Days in fall pass slowly and sadly
I want my basic freedoms for real and badly
I wanna say what I need to say and be listened to
Not be invisible with nothin' to do
The only way is to leave my place that's lame
But seasons turn slowly and that's a real shame
I'm 'onna a count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Right now it's winter--structured and cold
Want it to be summer--freedom that's bold
Then I can wake up and be listened to
Do a back flip in the sand if that's what I wanna do
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Finally it's spring--count down's not long
Links comin' off the paper chain as I sing this song
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
People think I'm free since I'm not in jail
But I'm not listened to and away I can't sail
Every day I do stuff on behalf another's thought
What if I don't want to buy what they've already bought?
What if I don't want to do what they've already done?
What if all I want is my very own fun?
I'm 'onna countdown till freedom
Don't know how many days I just need 'em
Summer at last!
I can have a blast!
I Board the Plane,
Seein' some friends.
As I talk, it'll never end!
Finally, freedom is here again,
no chores, just freedom-
let's begiiiiin!
See the people I wanna see,
maybe not all,
but whatever I want can be!
'Cause SUMMER is what I deamand!
And SUMMER, hand in hand!
Summer is here!
Have no fear!
I've been doing a lot
On these days that are hot
Playin' at the pool
Goin' on water rides that are cool
Buyin' my favorite sweet
New friends I meet
Goin' places I like
Like a fun, challenging hike
Jumpin' off the blob
Feeling freedom in one big glob
Choosin' what I wanna do
Not like other places I've been tooooo!
Yahhhhhhh!!
Come on, come on! Come on, come on! Enjoy that freedom!
Come on, come on, come on come on! Enjoy that freedom!
Yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Days spin fast
When fun is cast
It happens not even in a day
It's over but I want to stay!
Please let me stay more days--at least ten
Don't make me count down all over again!
This is the part where freedom ends
I guess I'll have to wait till next summer to enjoy it again
So I'm on my count down once more
No freedom, just structure, what a bore!
A life time of freedom just passed away
I guess the good moments just don't stay
I'm 'onna count down till freedom
Don't know how many days--I just need 'em
Friday, December 23, 2005
Story: Spit Stories
Spit Stories
By: Emily
1
Spit stories, we called them. Stories that my clarinet teacher told in between songs. Stories about embarrassing moments like when she was in a performance and spit drizzled on her knees. Gross.
She had taught me for eight years--that's since I was two. Clarinet has been my life; how do my parents expect me to give it up? Stupid parents. My clarinet teacher had to keep teaching me, or I would be nothing. I was so sure that she would teach me. After all we had there still had to be something. And maybe, maybe if my stupid parents would let me, I could do chores around the house to raise money. I wouldn't be able to pay as much money to her as I used to, but she would still accept it. After all, we were friends, right?
2
"Mom, I'm going to uh…stay after school today to do some stuff. Okay? Bye!" I would have to take the bus after school, but it was my only hope to still be able to play the clarinet.
"Hi, Ms. Lisette? I know I quit clarinet, but I need some help."
"Oh, it's good to see you! What do you need help about?"
"Um…long story."
"Blurt it out."
"My parents won't let me play clarinet because it's too much money and I still really want to play because I don't think I'm really that good at anything else and it's my only hope of succeeding and people seem to like me when I play and anyway it's just plain fun…(breath)…and so will you please teach me clarinet? I will try to raise money and stuff but I don't know if I can because-"
"Oh my goodness! I am so glad--when your mom told me that you were too busy I actually thought that you weren't willing to play anymore, but I am so glad you are! Uh…lessons…yes. But what will you tell your parents?"
The world had just come off of me. I was free to go!! Just like that! See how amazing she is?
"Um…there's a little thing called Sports Club-"
"Perfect excuse. Eventually you will have to tell your parents, you know, but I guess we won't worry about that for now. I'm just so glad to be helping you!"
"No, thank you! I guess I'll be going. My parents are expecting me."
3
Life was back to normal. When my parents said that they were in debt and they wanted me to do another activity like sports, I thought I would never say that again. But now I could! My parents still didn't know about the secret lessons, but that was okay. Okay, that is, until January 9, 2004.
"Honey, I know you might find this tough, and everything. I mean, you had to quit clarinet just a few months ago, so it might be a little tough. But we are going to move to Alabama in three weeks. I know this is soon, but-"
"Why do you make all your decisions without consulting me?" I stomped up the stairs and cried myself to sleep.
4
"Greetings, Meg! Why are you early? You are supposed to come on Tuesdays."
"Right. But we are moving this Tuesday so I couldn't come anyway. What am I going to do? I'll never be able to play the clarinet again in my life!"
"Is there a friend's house that you could practice at?"
"People don't like me here, I don't think they'll like me in Alabama. You are the only friend I have. Besides, everyone at my new school will probably hate me because I'm so bad at sports. I hate my parents!" Right then I was furious out of my mine, but two minutes later I walked out with a plan.
5
The trucks came to pick up all of our stuff. What a sad sight! Not that I had anything I liked there besides clarinet, but now it actually hit me that I was moving and I might not be able to play clarinet again. One bad move and the plan was out. I felt like crying, but Ms. Lisette said to follow the plan closely. So I waited there pretending to be happy. Which is not so hard come to think about it.
Ring, ring, ring! Here it comes! I heard my mom say, "Yes, today we are moving." Pause. "She has? Why didn't she tell me? You…! Why did you do that? She needed to try some sports!" She was yelling now. "Why did you give her free lessons?" Pause. "Yes, but she would be happier if she had friends." Pause. "Well, I don't want her to change…I mean, it's just…" Pause. "Okay, so I did want her to change. But now, now I see what you're saying! I guess I will be easier on her."
Click.
6
The apartment was pretty nice in Alabama. But the kids orchestra was the best thing. I actually had a best friend and five other girls who were my friends! I never thought that that many people would care to be my friend. But then again, it was in the orchestra.
Ten Years Later
Currently I am in college getting my degree in music. I don't think my parents are stupid anymore, but I still hate sports. I call Ms. Lisette every night--she fully deserves it. If it hadn't been for her, I would be somewhere else. Who knows? La La land?
Spit stories.
By: Emily
1
Spit stories, we called them. Stories that my clarinet teacher told in between songs. Stories about embarrassing moments like when she was in a performance and spit drizzled on her knees. Gross.
She had taught me for eight years--that's since I was two. Clarinet has been my life; how do my parents expect me to give it up? Stupid parents. My clarinet teacher had to keep teaching me, or I would be nothing. I was so sure that she would teach me. After all we had there still had to be something. And maybe, maybe if my stupid parents would let me, I could do chores around the house to raise money. I wouldn't be able to pay as much money to her as I used to, but she would still accept it. After all, we were friends, right?
2
"Mom, I'm going to uh…stay after school today to do some stuff. Okay? Bye!" I would have to take the bus after school, but it was my only hope to still be able to play the clarinet.
"Hi, Ms. Lisette? I know I quit clarinet, but I need some help."
"Oh, it's good to see you! What do you need help about?"
"Um…long story."
"Blurt it out."
"My parents won't let me play clarinet because it's too much money and I still really want to play because I don't think I'm really that good at anything else and it's my only hope of succeeding and people seem to like me when I play and anyway it's just plain fun…(breath)…and so will you please teach me clarinet? I will try to raise money and stuff but I don't know if I can because-"
"Oh my goodness! I am so glad--when your mom told me that you were too busy I actually thought that you weren't willing to play anymore, but I am so glad you are! Uh…lessons…yes. But what will you tell your parents?"
The world had just come off of me. I was free to go!! Just like that! See how amazing she is?
"Um…there's a little thing called Sports Club-"
"Perfect excuse. Eventually you will have to tell your parents, you know, but I guess we won't worry about that for now. I'm just so glad to be helping you!"
"No, thank you! I guess I'll be going. My parents are expecting me."
3
Life was back to normal. When my parents said that they were in debt and they wanted me to do another activity like sports, I thought I would never say that again. But now I could! My parents still didn't know about the secret lessons, but that was okay. Okay, that is, until January 9, 2004.
"Honey, I know you might find this tough, and everything. I mean, you had to quit clarinet just a few months ago, so it might be a little tough. But we are going to move to Alabama in three weeks. I know this is soon, but-"
"Why do you make all your decisions without consulting me?" I stomped up the stairs and cried myself to sleep.
4
"Greetings, Meg! Why are you early? You are supposed to come on Tuesdays."
"Right. But we are moving this Tuesday so I couldn't come anyway. What am I going to do? I'll never be able to play the clarinet again in my life!"
"Is there a friend's house that you could practice at?"
"People don't like me here, I don't think they'll like me in Alabama. You are the only friend I have. Besides, everyone at my new school will probably hate me because I'm so bad at sports. I hate my parents!" Right then I was furious out of my mine, but two minutes later I walked out with a plan.
5
The trucks came to pick up all of our stuff. What a sad sight! Not that I had anything I liked there besides clarinet, but now it actually hit me that I was moving and I might not be able to play clarinet again. One bad move and the plan was out. I felt like crying, but Ms. Lisette said to follow the plan closely. So I waited there pretending to be happy. Which is not so hard come to think about it.
Ring, ring, ring! Here it comes! I heard my mom say, "Yes, today we are moving." Pause. "She has? Why didn't she tell me? You…! Why did you do that? She needed to try some sports!" She was yelling now. "Why did you give her free lessons?" Pause. "Yes, but she would be happier if she had friends." Pause. "Well, I don't want her to change…I mean, it's just…" Pause. "Okay, so I did want her to change. But now, now I see what you're saying! I guess I will be easier on her."
Click.
6
The apartment was pretty nice in Alabama. But the kids orchestra was the best thing. I actually had a best friend and five other girls who were my friends! I never thought that that many people would care to be my friend. But then again, it was in the orchestra.
Ten Years Later
Currently I am in college getting my degree in music. I don't think my parents are stupid anymore, but I still hate sports. I call Ms. Lisette every night--she fully deserves it. If it hadn't been for her, I would be somewhere else. Who knows? La La land?
Spit stories.
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