November 30, 2010
I wrote this in 9th grade English. We had to submit a poem to some contest. I wrote mine the night before (no surprise, heh heh) and I must have been on something, because it turned out really weird.
Daisies are bright and colorful
Full of life
They are my favorite
Seeing them makes me happy
Receiving them is even better
Pink, orange, yellow, purple
They are exciting
Their petals are soft
I wonder what they taste like…
If I could run through a field of flowers,
I would pick Gerber daisies
But I would feel guilty if I stepped on any
Let’s pretend that I am a daisy;
I would be a green one
I love Daisies!
Another one of mine :) I wrote it sophomore year for my honors english class. It was a reallllllly long paper, so I only uploaded the introductory paragraphs. I still think this is probably some of my best writing :) I really like this! Don't hate.
A fire is enthralling, blazing, and mesmerizing. Novels too, are passionate flames that when interpreted with imagination will scorch and stretch the mind. Good novels, as defined by the literary canon, are universal, contain contemporary significance, and are undeniably inexhaustible. They must be ongoing, growing, and feeding on the human core, as a flame does to pages. They ought to be enticing and red hot. To be eligible for canonization, a book must allure the senses and leave all recollection of reality in the ashes.
Fahrenheit 451, written by Ray Bradbury, a tale of book censorship, does justice to these demands. It tells of Guy Montag, a middle aged fireman, whose job it is to burn books, as they are all banned in this dystopian society. He meets a teenage girl, Clarisse, who teaches him of a time when people were truly happy and firemen were protectors. Inspired by her words, Montag rebels against the tyrannical government and begins reading. This illegal action leads him on an adventure of realization, hope, and faith in the human race. Destination? The danger and loneliness of education and brilliance. Considered a terrorist, Montag must escape this horrific reality he’s devoted his life to and fight for the freedom to read. Fahrenheit 451 ought to be included in the literary canon when considering its universal relativity in promoting independent thought, contemporary ideals in points of technology, censorship, and violence, and its ability to captivate a reader with an inexhaustible nature.
But I share a car with my sister, so I have to ride the bus home every other day :P
Yesterday, my bus driver hit another car. Hahahaha :)
We're just driving, and we make a right and turn. And suddenly she yells (really loudly),
It was sooooooooooooooo funny :)
But it wasn't fun when I had to sit and wait 20 min for the sub-bus to come -_-
There was no way I was walking home in the snow.
It's also no fun when she blasts country music.
She's way serious. And really strict. But she's AMAZING. She's so focused and dedicated. And if you needed math help, she would stay until midnight to help you, no lie. Today, she told a joke :) I laughed.
Here it goes,
In calculus, when you find the critical point, and you want to know if it's a maximum or a minimum, you plug it into the second derivative. Like such:
f " (X)
X being the critical point.
Anyway, if your answer comes out positive, then that means that the graph is concave up; thus, creating a minimum:
If your answer comes out negative, then you have a concave down slope. That's when you have a maximum!!!
GET IT?! :)
Umm....kay. I laughed :)
November 29, 2010
After being bullied through most of elementary school and almost all of Jr.High, I was ready to give up. I hate people who assume that once it's over, then it's gone.
It hurts when I think about the things they've said to me.
PRETTY PEOPLE ARE NOT ALWAYS PRETTY ON THE INSIDE.
On a happier note, I deleted them all as friends on facebook :) and I try to avoid them :) and I only have two classes with them :)!! The pain is getting easier. It happened so long ago, but I've been really struggling with letting go. I just have to erase them from my life.
I'm so blessed to have friends now who care about me, and want me to succeed. Friends who support me, instead of tearing me down. My whole life, I've never felt like I had any school-friends. I will not take for granted the people I have now.
November 27, 2010
Hiking to Snoqualamie Falls. Yes people, I crossed the Canadian border XD
P.S. - it was freeeeeeeezing. And all my pics of the actual waterfall were really dumb -_-
Visited a Catholic church!
The space needle! (one from up top)
Not a great picture, but a pretty-well known place! :)
And another for my AP Language class(:
Unlike most people, the more comfortable you are with me, or the better you get to know me, the less you understand me.
I am a mutt. I am Hawaiian, Korean, Filipino, Tahitian, Irish, Welsh, English, Scottish, and French. I am a true
I like brown boys, vanilla ice cream, and BYU football. I like sleeping way too much. I like studying history, psychology, sociology, and anthropology. I like Tia Mickelson; she is my best friend! I like teasing the easy-to-tease people. I used to like playing violin. I like going on dates. Why? I like eating and not having to pay for it! I like not having brothers. I like my church and missionary work. However, sending out a missionary? Not so much. I like the
I believe that people are inherently good. They just make wrong decisions. Except for serial killers. I believe that they are bad and should be put to death. I believe in God, and that he loves me individually and unconditionally. I believe that adults judge teenagers more than most of us deserve. Not all of us are pregnant and/or criminals. I believe that in many cases, anxiety and dependency on parents are learned traits. I believe that the smartest people are the best at procrastinating. I believe that the happiest-appearing people are the ones that are falling apart on the inside.
I do not care for emptying the dishwasher. In fact, I always conveniently leave the room as soon as it’s finished. I do not care for fantasy books, except Harry Potter. I do not care for people who tell me that I need to straighten my hair or dress a certain way to be prettier. I really don’t care about being pretty and getting attention in that way. I do not care for red lights, looking up words in the dictionary, and the dentist. I do not care for being home alone, using dull pencils, and being lectured by my parents.
I am tired of hearing about other people’s problems. Some of my friends treat me like their counselor, and then I never have time for my own issues. I am tired of hearing about stupid people like Lady Gaga. She’s a singer, not an artist. The latter would imply talent. I am tired of hearing about how I need to get a 34 ACT so I can go to BYU without making my parents pay for it. I’m not even sure if I want to go there. I’m tired of hearing apologies when I explain that I’m allergic to chocolate. I’m tired of hearing blonde jokes.
I favor acoustic guitar. I favor teachers who actually want to be there for me. I favor dark colors over light ones. I favor home cooked meals, tall guys, and conservatism. I favor term limits for greedy senators. I favor happiness…for everyone. I favor the eighteenth century over the twenty-first. If I could choose to be any flower, I would be a gerber daisy. Any animal? A shark. I favor the sunrise and the mentality it brings of starting fresh. I favor Southern California,
I’ve always felt like my personality is one huge contradiction. I tend to surprise people once they get to know me better. Am I even worth getting to know? I like to amuse myself in thinking that if I was another person, I’d be friends with myself.
For my AP Language class... :)
I was considering being the English Sterling Scholar next year, except I remembered that I don't like reading very much :( only writing.
The Unforgettable Summer
October 20, 2010
It was a typical summer day; warm, sunny, and dry. However, this beautiful day was about to become very atypical and blaze a terrible, yet comedic, memory into my mind.
A year earlier, I had moved to
On this particularly momentous day, of which I referred to earlier, not only did something horrifyingly unforgettable happen, but the friendship I had with Jenna, Emilie, and Amelia blossomed into a relationship of trust in life and death matters.
We were jumping on the trampoline, allowing our imaginations to stretch to full capacity. “And then, a stampede of zebras came!” yelled Jenna. We all giggled and pretended to be scared.
“Don’t worry, I will save you!” announced Emilie, in her best prince charming voice.
Our minds fashioned a cloud of dust and rumbling stampede. But no matter how promising our young creativity was, nothing was as convincing as a real cloud of dust, which is exactly what we saw.
“What IS that?” I screamed at the approaching force.
Biology explains an inherent response to distress: either removing oneself from the problem, or aggression. This phenomenon is more commonly known as “fight or flight”. Amelia, too feeble to fight against the unknown, exemplified the “flight” response by zooming to the tree house and soaring to the top thereof. The rest of us paid no attention, as we were focused on the oncoming herd of cows. Yes, cows; chunky, milky, and fuzzy. Down the street from our houses was a small farm. They must have broken free and were running away from the zebra stampede too…
Emilie and I soon joined Amelia at the top of the tree house. We poked our heads out and called for Jenna. Being the oldest and toughest, Jenna refused to climb to safety. Charlie, her pet dachshund, barked madly and circled dizzily around the base of the tree house.
Upon arriving at the scene, the cows just passed right through. Anticlimactic, is it not? Our shrieks were silenced and the adrenaline pumping through me began to subside. Emilie, Amelia, and I returned to Jenna on the tramp and broke into a fit of silly laughter. We rolled around and giggled.
“You were SO scared Amelia. Suddenly, you were, like, GONE! I just wanted to stay down here and see them.” Jenna explained her vantage point of the story and completed it with a question, “where did they come from?”
Amelia, still shaken, laughed nervously. Before Emilie and I could answer, her mom had stepped outside. “Mom! Mom, mom, mom!!!” we all exclaimed.
“What was all that screaming about? You girls need to calm down.” Before turning back to the open door, her eyes caught the trampled flower bed. The cows, in their hurry to run away from the zebra stampede, had inadvertently demolished, destroyed, and decimated Jenna and Emilie’s mom’s flowers. “My flowers! What happened? What did you do?!” She was furious.
“But Mom, the cows! They were running! And there were thousands of them! And we yelled at them. But they wouldn’t stop! MOM! It was the cows!” Emilie might or might not have exaggerated in her attempt to dispel her mom’s anger.
“Emilie Nicole Marsden! Don’t lie to me! I need you girls to leave my flowers alone.”
Later, a neighbor called to ask her if she had seen the cow stampede passing through. She apologized to her daughters, Amelia, and me. “Your story was just so impractical! I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Emilie.”
Since then, there have been many times in my life that I’ve thought back to this moment. No, I’m not about to make up a stupid analogy about how cows represent some negative emotion and climbing the tree house is our safeguard and whatnot. I will, however, point out that this incident is most definitely movie-worthy.
The reason this has stuck with me is that I’ve always considered Jenna my closest friend. Not only that, but the strongest. She was always the one to stand up to the challenge and put herself in the middle of it all. She’s gone through so much, and I admire her strength.
Things change. Jenna, my best friend of ten years, has since moved two hours away. But one constant thing I can count on is the relationship we have and the trust we’ve built. Sure, things aren’t the summer fairytale that they once were. We no longer stay up all night singing Britney Spears and eating Tabasco-drenched popcorn. Instead of chasing boys, we’re crying about them and commiserating with each other. We don’t play as many games and our imaginations aren’t near as extensive as they once were. Neither of us have the time to be what we used to be: kids. Instead, we’re growing up, becoming adults (ugh!), and learning that the world is bigger than our backyards and trials are harder than a stampede of cows. It would be easier to go back, but it’s better to move on. However, sometimes, it’s fun to reminisce. “Jenna, remember the cows?” Some memories you never forget.
November 26, 2010
It's been almost 3 years since the last time I ate chocolate. I began developing an allergy to it in 8th grade. My period started coming every other week, I threw up a couple times, and I'd get hives on my arms. When I tell people that I'm allergic to chocolate, naturally, they freak out at me and ruthlessly apologize. Leave me alone! You're only making it worse. Right now, I'm watching Willy Wonka. And I want chocolate so bad -_-
When I am a professional hula dancer, I shall have long hair
But now I must go to high school,
But maybe I ought to practice a little now,
This is a parody of Jenny Joseph's poem "Warning"
November 17, 2010
He Pua Laha'ole means "a flower not common."
I pick this for 2 reasons :)
1 - I am beautiful
Yes, I think I'm really pretty :) But not the supermodel 5'8", size 2, blonde hair, skinny legs kind of pretty. I think I'm unusually beautiful. My eyes change color, my hair touches my hips, and my bottom lashes are longer than most people's top lashes. I'm a definite pair shape and I smile more than is healthy. I think it's beautiful :) Thus, I am a flower not common :) see, eh?
2 - I am strange
While most teenagers are concerned with fictional vampires and werewolves, my whole life revolves around school. I base my self-esteem on numbers; my near perfect GPA and 33 ACT score. I feel like I've never fit in with people my age. They're so shallow and narrow minded. I'm strange because I actually care. I don't conform and so that makes me "not common."