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Oct 20, 2011

[Insert Title Here]

I'm not quite sure what to talk about, but I'm sure I'll come up with something.

I have a dear dear friend who has just had the privilege of living and wreaking havoc on this planet for 17 years.
You know, I've always wondered if, while we are in heaven, if we choose the amount of days we have to live.  Is it just a random thing?
How many days do my parents have?
My siblings?
Myself?
One day I took a test to see how long I would live and how I died.  I lived to be 72 years old and died by inhaling a tissue while sneezing.  Well, if that happens, at least I have a good story to tell the people in the after-life.
I once heard a quote (and I am not going to say this correctly, just to warn you) "Everyone has a limited amount of words.  When those words start to run out, we begin to die.  Be sure to save good words for your last."  or something like that.  I actually liked that quote.  It makes death a lighter subject.
Almost, though. Not quite.
This reminds me of an experience that I was slightly involved in.  Not completely, though.
There was a girl who lived in my neighborhood who got leukemia.  She was 12 years old.  She died, and she even made the decision to.  She was tired of taking treatment, and wanted it to be over.  She didn't want to suffer anymore.  She told her parents and planned her funeral with them.  This girl had such strength and courage, and she was able to stare down death in the face.  She was completely brave.  She might have been scared about death, but she was brave.  You can be brave and scared at the same time.  When she was in her pre-mortal state or something, do you think that she knew that she would die at that age, and that she would make the decision as well?  Did she choose her death?
I wonder what will happen to me?
This also slightly pertains to people with mental illnesses.  Before they came to Earth, did they make the decision to be mentally retarded, or suffer from autism, etc.?  Or were they chosen at random, and didn't have a say about it?  Did they know at all what would soon happen to them?
These questions are opening up more questions, and my brain is beginning to hurt.
This also opens up to the fact of what might happen to us in the future?  What will happen to me in the next five minutes?  Hour? 12 hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?  Will I make it that long?
Fear of the unknown will get us nowhere.  Looking back to the past won't move you forward, either.
"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift.  That is why they call it present."













Yes, I did just quote Kung Fu Panda.

Oct 16, 2011

Math

Mom: "Eric, I'm signing you up for the middle school advanced learning test. There's a Math test, English test, or a Science test. It goes from either 7:30 to 11:30, or 12:30 to 4:30."
Eric: "What?! The test lasts for three hours?!"
*awkward pause*
Mom: "Uhh..."
Me: "Well, at least we know you aren't taking the math test..."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I have an early morning choir practice at 6:00 am, Tuesday. Yay.
I just finished playing the Hobbit on the computer. It was fun.
I've decided I will now read the book because of the computer game.
I've noticed I should grow up and stop playing computer games.
I should really finish the 7 books I've started that are gathering virtual dust on my computer.
I love photography, but I dislike my teacher.
I like friendship bracelets, but wearing them bothers me.
I don't really know what I'm going to do with my future life.
I enjoy getting my picture taken.
I wish I never quit dance when I was seven.
I wish I decided to take soccer when my mom offered when I was eight.
I wish I could talk to the opposite species known as boys.
I watch Doctor Who sometimes, even though it scares me.
I get scared easily.
I wish I knew myself better than I think I do.
I procrastinate. (take this blog for example)
I wish I could get things done. (driving)
I want to own a cat or dog when I grow up.
I still like myself even though I have a lot of wishes for myself.
I am known as the 'Grammar Police' among my friends
I write my books based on dreams I've had.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

School is going alright for me. I'm doing go--excuse me, well. Proper grammar, there. I don't really know where that list of things came from. I guess some of the other blogs I read are starting to rub off on me. I am in a weird mood today, and I really wish I could listen to my music. Alas, it is Sunday, and I really shouldn't. But I want to.
I really need to read Cry, the Beloved Country for English tomorrow, but I don't feel like it. But I should do it soon.
Really soon.
There are a lot of things I need to get done soon.
Really soon.

Sigh...

Boys stress me out. Especially a certain one I'm thinking of. I'm stressed out by him, if you couldn't tell.
Yes.
He likes me, I don't. (towards him).
He wants to ask me out on a date...and I don't want to.
Why must I be 16?!
Too much stress and opportunities. I can drive, but I don't have the ability or the privilege because I'm lazy.
I can date. But I'm afraid of it.
Sadie Hawkins freaks me out. I was pressured and pressured, so I resisted and resisted. Secretly, I didn't know anyone I could ask (and I didn't want to go in the first place) because I can't talk the the things we call boys. Well, the ones I want to talk to, anyways.
But I don't want to just be a picture in a yearbook. (Yes, I got that from the movie Lemonade Mouth from Disney Channel)
I want to be known, like my used-to-be best friend.
She's popular.
She can talk to the species we call boys.
She has multiple boys fawning over her.
She is girlfriend to the boy I liked in 9th grade.
I don't even think he really knew me. We just casually chatted.
Then she told him I liked him.
They're dating now.

I guess I'm over it, but it's still a sore spot when I think about her.
Not just about the boy, I mean.
We were close. I have pictures and videos to prove it.
Maybe she thought that I wasn't worth her time anymore.
She had too many friends.
I was pushed aside.
Shoved out and replaced by new ones.
I told her I was done.
She seemed okay with it.
Was I disposable?
I was depressed for days.
We never talk, except for the occasional awkward "Hi" in the hallways.
Awkward for me, anyways.
I don't even know if she cares.
I have new friends.
Maybe even better ones.
But I'm still sad.
I care.

Oct 13, 2011

Right

Well, that commitment lasted a while.  Like, a week and a half. Wow.  I am appalled at myself. (not really, I kindof knew this would happen.)

Anyways, I don't really know what's happened to me lately.

OH! I just thought of a good one.

You know that time long ago when it was homecoming?  Yeah?  Well, I've got a story about that.

So once upon a time my friends and I decided to go to the homecoming football game.  After a while, we got bored (we were kicking the opposing teams butts 49-7 at halftime) and we decided to just leave.  We wanted to go to Walmart (I don't really remember the exact reason why, but we just did) so we climbed in my friends Jeep.  My friend has had her license for about four months, and you aren't allowed to drive people who are not an immediate family member for six months--so we were illegal, but we didn't really care, basically because we are stupid sixteen year olds.  While we were about to turn into the Walmart parking lot, I saw a police car parked on the side of the road.  I turned to my friend:
"Hey, there's a police car.  Be careful.  Are you doing anything illegal?" I asked (besides the fact that she had two girls in her car that weren't supposed to be there.)
"Yeah, everything's fine," she said.  Reassured, I relaxed.
As we turned into the parking lot, the police car suddenly turned on it's lights and started following us.  My heart practically came out of my mouth.  I saw my friends hands grip the steering wheel, and she pulled into a parking space.  The police car pulled into the one next to us and the officer got out of the car.  He walked over to us.
"How are you doing tonight?" he asked.
"I'm doing fine, thank you," my friend replied.  I gulped and stared at my knees.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, I don't.  I thought I was doing everything okay," my friend said.
"You were driving just fine.  I just wanted to let you know that when you buy a new car, you need to put your temporary license plate on the back of the car.  I couldn't see it when you were driving."  All eyes swiveled to the stupid piece of paper taped to the windshield.
"I'm sorry, my dad put it there.  I'll be sure to fix it," my friend said.
"Can I please see your license and papers?"
"Of course."  My friend turned to me and snapped her fingers as a signal to open the glove compartment.  I opened it with trembling hands and pulled out the papers.  My friend fumbled through her purse and then pulled out her license and handed them to the officer.  He flipped through the papers and examined the license.  I started to flip out even more (my facade was that of a sick individual, clammy and sweating.   My inside self was running around my brain, screaming in terror at the fact that we broke that stupid law and were about to get caught.  I personally like the facade much better.  I would look like an idiot if I were showing the other one.)  If he scanned her license, he would know that she hadn't had it for very long.  We were done for.
Then a miracle happened.
"You know, I can see that you are a very responsible driver.  I won't scan your license.  Please put your temporary on the back of the car as soon as possible.  Have a nice night," the officer stated, and handed back the papers and license, and then walked back to the cruiser.  He swung out of the parking lot and drove away.
My friend and I looked at each other at the same time, and started to scream and hyperventilate. (me screaming, her hyperventilating)  I grabbed the cursed piece of paper and jammed it on the back of the car with the same used tape.  I didn't care as long as it stayed.  I then decided to run around her car like a maniac a couple times to get my pumping adrenaline out.
I suddenly heard my other friend, who was happily texting on her cell phone through the whole ordeal, look up and--taking in what my friend and I were doing--issued the following word:
"What?!"

Once I stopped running around the car and managed to still my beating heart, the three of us went into Walmart and bought ourselves a pack of Oreos.  We then drove home and happily gorged away our fear with milk's favorite cookie.

It was quite a supernatural thing that happened.  I think some great celestial being or something gave us a warning.  I have vowed from that point on that I will never set foot in her car until it is legal, and I will never break a driving law.  Ever.