Have you ever had the feeling that you have so much to talk about, but you cannot think of it? Yeah, I'm feeling that right now.

Today I had to dress 'formal' because it's the marching band tradition to wear formal to school the day before a competition. Well, the thing is, I the only skirt I own is a long green peasent skirt with which only one shirt to match. Not very formal, considering I might wear it on a regular day. So, I piled on the bling. Turquoise bracelets, Hawaiian puka shell necklace, cool brown boots and a ultra pretty hair-like headband. That's a lot, considering what I usually throw on: T-shirt and jeans with sandals or Converse.

It felt good to be dressed up for once. Different people gave me comments, which is pretty cool. The coolest comments:

"Wow, your really dressed up." - Miss Leaf, my Spanish teacher. This was cool not only because it came from a teacher, but also because she said it in Spanish.

"You look like a princess."

"You look like your from the Renaissance."

Yeah, that was definitely awesome.

Today in Drama, we finished watching a movie called "Rebecca" by Alfred Hitchcock. It was quite well done, and I was enthralled. I highly recommend it.

Distressing news...well not really. In early 2006, marching band is going to Italy. (That's not the bad part.) My parents want to be chaperones. I'm not exactly thrilled.

I can understand why they want to go. I mean, we're talking about Italy and the prices are relatively inexpensive. Another factor is they want to keep an eye on me. That's the part I'm not too thrilled about. I mean, I'm not even close to a bad kid. Yet for some strange reason, both my parents expect me to do something horrid at any second. They don't trust me, and if they do then they are hiding it very well. Also, there are going to be chaperones even if they aren't going, so why worry?

Besides, if they really want to go to Italy, they can go for their 20th anniversary. Sure, it's in three years, but they can plan it out in the mean time.

Well, whatever happens, happens. So I better not stress over it. Even if they are chaperones, they can't keep their eyes on me all the time. They really do care for me. It's just sometimes I need space.

The weather today was quite strange indeed. It actually rained. It hasn't rained for a very long time. There was a thunder storm in the afternoon at school. Those haven't happened in a long time.

I found it interesting that when the thunder was at it's loudest, the rain was barely a sprinkle. It was cloudy, sure, but rainy...not very. Then around two I walked out of sixth period and was immediately blinded by the sun. Yet, for some strange reason, it was raining harder than before. Don't ask me why. It was a fluke of nature.

I love the rain. I LOVE it. Except nobody told me it was going to rain even though everyone knew. Therefore, little unknowing me goes to school with sandals on. I almost slipped on the crosswalk three times.

Good times.

I won't go into the gory details because I'm sure no one wants to hear them.

The myth that 'one's first period is the worst' is the most gargantuan fabrication I have ever heard. I've gone through this horrid process before and never have I been in such misery.

I'm uncomfortable now, but tomorrow I will most likely die, for woe, I must travel the paths of my school all day and pray to God nothing tragic happens.

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Ok, I'm done sulking. Yesterday I visited my grandma and we watched this old movie called The Miracle of Morgan's Creek. In 1944 it was rated R, but nowadays it would probably be rated G and maybe a PG. The only matter which was questionable in 1944 was Trudy, one of the characters, became pregnant and married (the order was never spoken of) while she was drunk. It doesn't show any of it and they only suggested the drunk part.

The movie was a comedy, dispite what you might be thinking right now. The whole thing is purposefully unbelievable. The plot is quite hard to explain, so I won't even try. All I will say is: if you ever have a chance to watch it, I recommend it. The ending is the best part.

Off to do homework.

A Day in my Life...

I really should be doing homework right now, but I'll worry about that later. Right now all I can think of is English. It was so awesome today. I got an award. I'm not kidding.

I dropped out of advanced English this year, I would have been in Honors. I didn't go into Honors because there was this lame test and I hate tests with a fiery passion. Also, I was planning on taking eight periods (and I am currently) and English was my worst subject, so in the interest of time I dropped into college prep. (My high school is a college prep school, there aren't any classes lower than that.)

Anyway, I'm basically taking college prep English as a easy class, which is probably why I love it so much. I am 90% I'm going to recieve an A. I'm excited about this, because in advanced English I always C's and it made me feel like dirt.

Ok, so on to the reward. (Wow, I probably sound really big-headed right now. I'm not acting this way purposely. I'm just REALLY HAPPY.) Mr. Dinkler (English teacher) had us write blogs on a school website. I'll give the website to you, but you won't be able to get on because you need a password to get in. (www.fthsonline.com/dialogue) This blog was basically easy, because all it was was introducing yourself to your class and the school. I skimmed what other people had written before me and typed away. Everyone else had written a paragraph (if that). I ended up writing seven paragraphs. At the end, I was kind of embarrassed I wrote so much on myself, but it summed me up almost perfectly, so I left it and submitted it.

Something I noticed was that most everyone elses was kind of boring. No feelings whatsoever. Just stuff like "I have a dog, his name is Dil. I also have a little brother named David. He's eight. I like Foothill so far, it's pretty cool. The teachers are nice. I'm glad I'm here." Blah, blah, BLARG. I probably am too judgemental, but that is super boring. (That stuff is about me, however, I just made that on the spot. It wasn't hard to do.) There were some entrys that were super cool though. There was one that the girl opened with "I'm going to be original and not say 'Hey my name is...' ". That was great observing indeed. I felt lame because I myself had written that. (XD) And then there was one that was written by this guy. He's in two of my classes. He's funny, when he isn't pestering me about being a vegetarian. (He always says stuff like "I like meat." around me. It's pretty immature.) Anyway, his blog was hilarious. I laughed quite loudly. He wasn't afraid to show his personality, and I respected him more for it.

In typing this up, I am in NO WAY saying I'm perfect or anything like that. I am lazy and irresponsible. So I hope you aren't getting this stuck up feeling from me or anything. I'm just typing what I notice. (Kind of like the 'original-no-hey-say-er girl'.)

Ok, the week past and I was getting on with my life. Then today, Mr. Dinkler overviewed the day and started talking about the first blog of the year. He said that there were some really good ones and some not so good ones. (The not so good ones were the ones some people posted more than once.) Then he announced that there was going to be a certificate (type-thing. At the times I wasn't super paying attention) for Best Blog of the Week. At this point in time half A of me was almost sure I was the one who was going to get that award. Half B felt guilty for the half A thinking that and 'twas an internal battle. I ended up getting the award.

It was funny though because he spelled my named wrong and had to make a different copy. Yes, there is humor in everything.

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On a different note, today I started tutoring for community service. I'm tutoring a third grade girl named Annie. She's great. I'm glad I'm tutoring her.

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I JUST REMEMBERED!!! I'm in Reader's Digest! I wrote a reply about there article "Selling Faith" and it got in!!! My reply is in the October 2005 edition. YAY! I've been published...WOO!


Ok, yeah, I'm super happy and I'm a freak. Deal with it.

Now I'm off to finish homework. Chow!

I wrote a poem. It's ok, not my best, but I'm posting it nonetheless. It doesn't really have a title.

His eyes are gorgeous, or so they say.
Girls just love his 'sad boy' way,
But this emo boy isn't all he seems.
His eyes don't speak of broken dreams.
Instead they portray his non-existant soul,
Because deep inside, he's a black hole.

At the time of writing this, it kind of came out of blue. However, after thinking about it a while, I've found why I wrote it.

The first line is talking about a real life guy that all my friends were obsessed with a few years ago. He had (has) really dark eyes. Seriously, they are pitch black. Everybody loved them.

The second line came from this current fad of girls loving emo boys.

The third and fourth line came from yet another real guy. Except this guy is a total poser. He thinks he is emo, but in all truth, he is just pathetic. (He thinks he's emo because he wears black. I told him he was a disgrace and he said I was going to hell. I told you he was a loser.) His eyes don't speak of broken dreams because all they speak of are stupid trends.

The last two lines came from this book I read called 'The Blue Mirror'. The main character is an artist and she drew pictures of her boyfriend, but they didn't really capture who he really was. She was quite frustrated but he loved them. In the end, she realizes he's a black hole, taking but never giving. So, in the end she draws this ugly picture of a person with red skin and huge black hole eyes. (And a bunch of other stuff, but I can't remember.)

So this poem was a really a collage of different experiences. Interesting. I like how that happened. I wrote this during study hall while I was bored.

Look, a quiz! Sadly, this is well, rather sad. It makes my heart bleed. Ok, not really. My comments are in red.


Test your emotional intelligence (EQ)

You scored 55% correct! What?! An F?! Remember you responses need to have been as honest as possible. If you feel that your score does not reflect you, please retake the test and answer each question in the way that best represents the way you typically feel.

Your score indicates that you have a below average EQ.
People that typically score in this range sometimes have trouble recognising and understanding their feelings. Hmm...that's true... They are not always able to express their feelings in the most appropriate manner. They often have doubts and concerns about who they really are. True They do not have much confidence in themselves and in their abilities. Too true In most circumstances, they have a difficult time showing love, empathy and compassion for other people. Yep... In general, they are not comfortable with intimacy. Sheesh...these people stalking me...

They also have trouble communicating with other people. Stammering...that's me. They struggle with getting in tune with themselves and those around them. They may sometimes say the wrong thing at the wrong moment. They sometimes find it hard to show their anger or deal with anger directed at them. Hah! Not a problem. I show my anger, thank you very much. Wait...is that a good thing? Hmmm. At times they are unable to stand up for themselves when hurt or they are handle confrontation inappropriately. They may have trouble admitting when they are wrong; and when they do make mistakes, they are often uncomfortable apologising to those they hurt. That's true.

People with below average EQ may also have low levels of self-worth. Sometimes... They do not like challenges or commitment and are afraid of change. They have a difficult time staying motivated and focused when they have set unattainable goals for themselves. They are fairly pessimistic about themselves and their future. Hmmm...I'm not. I just don't know what I want for a career yet.

However, one great thing about emotional intelligence is that it’s fluid! A person can increase their EQ at any point of their life! o_O How marvelous. People with below average EQ can start by learning how to identify their emotions and take responsibility for them. They make it sound like a bad thing... There are many resources to help. Who say's I need help? I'm perfectly fine. I'm not going to commit suicide or anything. People with low EQ can read books about EQ and social skills, find out about anger management courses and communication skills courses, join a support group or see a counsellor. uhhh...it's not that big of deal...I'm ok. I'm not going blow like Old Faithful. They can keep a diary of their emotions, and ask their friends to help them recognise the things about themselves that need correcting. Hey! I do that. ^_^ If these things are done there is no doubt that they can increase their emotional intelligence and live a healthy, happy life. Sure. I'm going to adapt my life to fit a quiz. Keep dreaming.

Yep, there's the quiz. Even though I do have similarites to the answers, I'm not a crazy depressed kid. I'm just a regular, if mellow person. Look for more blogs later.

I wonder...

I often wonder why I am the way I am. I mean, why do I care so much? Why can't I just observe the world for what it is and live with it? Why must my emotions barge their way itno my life and force my mind to listen as they find problems with everything?

I wish I knew. I really do. But I also wish that I knew I wasn't the only one. I mean, all my friends are totally perfect. Alright, that's a lie, but they don't seem nearly as troubled as I do.

I know for a fact that I'm not the only one who is noticing the devestation all over the world. But you know what the worst part is? I'm a total hypocrite. I look at the world and say "Why isn't anyone DOING anything?" I sit and internally cry for the world, but it doesn't do a thing. Then I read an article about how somebody did something for the community, for New Orleans, for Iraq, and I scream at myself. I say "YOU should be the one helping! You always say you care, but if you really did, you would do something other than type stupid blogs on the internet. You would be doing something!"

I rationalize, sure. I tell myself that at the age of 13, there is practically nothing I can do. Which is partially true. But, I don't know, there has to be something I can do. I just have to find what it is.