eBay strikes again

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=5545067660

this is really mean of the guy to do this. read the title and the first paragraph closely and notice how it says to read the description closely. sad thing is it got up to $152.

Helloooooooooo

Anyone out there?

Must watch Christmas movies

Elf
Christmas Vacation
Home Alone
The Grinch
Santa Claus 2
The Ref
Love Actaully

I've watched 5 so far

No DEATH TO THE blog.

No death to the blog. It cant end here. I dont know what ill do with my life if the blog wasnt here to check when my curfew rolls around. Its fun to have a place to say something. Before the blog I had a big fat journal of a bunch writing that i had writen and never looked at again. I was really glad that i had something to do will all that brain work I had stored in there. Thanks to anyone who took the time to read through my stuff; eventhough some of it is very drab and redundant. Love to all of you over Christmas. Im going to go out now! Goodnight!

jenn

Wood!

Dear Red Green Irish Writer, Thank You For The "Quote" Book. Man, I'm Funny.

thanks for secret santa stuff

i just want to say whoever gave me the cookies for secret santa is awesome, they were really good. probably the best secret santa gifts are the edible ones.

On a string...

I've got the world on a string
Sitting on a rainbow
Got that string around my finger
What a world, what a life, I'm in love

I've got a song that I sing
I can make the rain go
Anytime I snap my finger
What a world, what a life, I'm in love

Life's a beautiful thing
Long as I hold that string
I'd be a silly so-and-so
If I'd ever let you go

1 week left.

memoir 2.0

this is the memoir that i turned in. about my year as a freshmen, constructive criticism would be cool (sorry for long post):

My freshmen year of high school was an eventful one in my life. I had entered high school with aspirations and wanted to get involved with the school because it seemed like a good way to meet people. That year while I was a freshman, I could not find my way around Columbine because it seemed like it was much larger place than Ken Caryl middle school. I remember wondering how I would find my way through the school. At registration I hoped there would be someone, at least one person, I knew in any of my periods that I could hang around with and relate to. “Links”, where the seniors and juniors helped us to become familiar with the school, made me nervous too. I was lucky because both my Links leaders were very cool. When I saw kids going to the Gym in crazy costumes I thought to myself “Holy crap…what the hell is all this?” After the “Links” assembly was over, I waited for my Mom outside. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I went to see if there were any other kids I knew that I could talk to. A bunch of kids standing around with their friends, but I couldn’t find anyone I recognized so I sat on one of the rocks out front. When my Mom picked me up I was excited but nervous hoping that I would know someone in any of my periods. When the first day came I carried my schedule around the whole day and had trouble finding some classes. I asked random people as to where some of my classes were. When I was walking through Columbine I loved how everything looked. It was better than Ken Caryl in almost every way I thought. The halls were way wider, we had a cool library, an elevator, a huge auditorium, and the commons were big too. During my off hours I didn’t know anyone. I was very shy (and still am to a degree) and spent the first two weeks not hanging out with anyone during off periods or lunch periods. Finally, one day I saw these kids playing this card game so I decided to actually go over there. My knees where shaking almost, but I finally went over to ask if I could play cards with them. After they had said yes that’s where I spent the rest of the first semester on my off periods. I had decided from early on that I wanted to actually apply myself Freshmen year because in middle school I hadn’t been in any extracurricular activities and got mediocre grades. I figured that I would try out activities to meet people and improve my work ethic. I was thinking about what sports I could possibly do. I knew my hand-eye coordination wasn’t that great, so I decided to go into Cross Country. After I had signed up, the first day I got there I went up to the coach Thielking in my hiking boots and pants and asked if I could run. He told me that I’d probably die because of what I was dressed up in, and he was right. Even though I sucked horribly at running I still was proud that I actually kept on running for a distance. Before that day the longest I ran was in sixth grade during the mile. I thought the coaches were really cool too. Coach Thielking and McWilliams were really nice. I didn’t really know who to talk to because I didn’t know anyone in Cross Country either, but I eventually met some nice people. Patrick, a senior that had a locker a few lockers down from my in the locker room, was very good at Cross Country. He would yell at me whenever I felt the urge to be lazy and I’m glad he did. Nick was also on the other side in the locker room and the three of us would usually talk before the practices. Nick was a lanky Sophomore who had an unusual sense of humor, but I liked that. Me and Nick were around the same skill level in Cross Country. Neither of us were really good, but I was glad I got to hang around both of them. Patrick was really good at cross country though. He always got way better times than me. One of the times we went to a tournament the three of us got bored and we wandered into some woods nearby. We just talked and tried to pass time until we had to run. We came across an abandoned sleeping bag with a bunch of pokemon cards and a lot of dirty clothes. We just stared at it all wondering why someone would leave something like that in a forest. After that we called the spot ‘Hobo palace’ and we wandered back to where the rest of the teammates were. We spent the rest of the time between when we had to run talking about what kind of person would leave those kind of things. After sitting around with Nick and Matt I figured out from the coach that we had to go soon, so I looked around to find a good place to change into my competition outfit. After scanning the area for a good place to change clothes I saw two really long lines of people waiting to go into a port-a-potty. After waiting a long time there was I was only waiting on the person before me to get out. When the door opened up the guy looked sick and I asked him “are you okay?” The kid said “I’m kind of sick…sorry.” My god, it smelled like something died in there, it was so horrible. I had to hold my breath while getting dressed in my Columbine outfit. After that was over with I went to sit back at my bag and got my nerves out before they called us to go to the starting line. The girls were running before us and they were just crossing the finish line, so I decided to go over to the finish line to root them on. Some of the girls were really attractive, so I didn’t mind watching them. After they had gone I went up to finish the race. I did pretty badly in the end, but I was still was glad that I was out the house and around people. When I got home I crashed and went to bed really early. Everyday when we were huddled up doing our stretches I saw this girl that looked really cool and cute. I was really nervous about actually going up and talking to her, so I worshipped from afar from a while. I didn’t know how to go up and say ‘hi’ because I figured it would be really awkward. Finally, one day I told myself that I really wanted to get to know this girl so I would go up and try to make small talk. She was by the sign and I figured that that was the perfect time to try to initiate conversation. My heart was beating really hard and my knees were shaking. I finally managed to say ‘hi’, but I didn’t know what to talk about. I had a bunch of thoughts going through my head, so I asked a bunch of questions that I thought would be good ice breakers, like asking questions about her and she gave one word answers. I was thinking “Oh my god, I am completely bombing this.” She looked like she didn’t know what to say and she inched away slowly (if you are reading this, sorry about writing this and i know you are a nice person). I was glad I finally got the guts and went up to talk to her, even though I didn’t do so well. As we got further into the year I learned that it was a smart idea to drink as much water as I could before Cross Country practices. Otherwise, I would get really bad cotton mouth. I also learned to fear two certain words while I was in Cross Country, “rebel hill.” I would always die when I went up that hill because it was usually 85 degress and up and we would do multiple sprints up the hill. I would always rush over to the cooler so I could get a drink before everyone else. Even though I died almost all the time when I did cross country, I was glad I got to get out and see people.

One of the other activities I tried out was Choir and the musical. Even though I had not ever been in any Choir group before my Freshman year, I had been to a lot of my sister’s concerts. She was the one that talked me into Choir. Before the freshmen year started I had to fill out what electives I wanted to go into. I had chosen everything except one class, so I asked my Mom and my Sister what a good class would be to take. They had suggested a lot of classes, but I didn’t want to take any of them. Finally, my sister had suggested I go into Choir. I told her that I hadn’t been in Choir before and I probably wouldn’t be too good at it, but I finally filled it in because I didn’t know what else to take. It actually turned out to be really fun. It was funny when Mr. Andres (senior) made fun of us when we were sucking really bad. He would make fun of the girls sometimes and sometimes he would make fun of us guys. We had a strong section because of the seniors that were in the class and needed credits. The seniors made the class interesting. In our base section there was this John Bright. It’s hard to describe him, but he was really cool. He talked about how he and some other guys pulled the plug on the piano while everyone was singing and how Mr. Andres had no idea what had caused the piano to stop. Joe Dreaden was about as tall as I was at the time but he had a lot of muscle and he wasn’t someone I would want to mess with. He acted like he was tough but I thought he was cool anyways. I had always watched concerts my Sister had been performing in, but it felt weird to be performing too. I quickly learned that the robes and stage lights make you really hot. The first time I was up there I thought about how my Sister always said it was like an oven on the stage. It felt cool to look into the crowd and know that they were there to listen to us. Later on in the year Mr. Andres needed more guys in the musical, so he asked us if we wanted to be in it. I jumped on the chance because I thought it would be another good opportunity to meet people. We did Fiddler on the Roof and I was in Chorus. We did a lot of work, but on my breaks I would make card houses or other card games with whoever was around. The teacher’s lounge was the place where everyone spent their time on their breaks. People would do anything from homework to watching TV or playing video games. One time this kid brought in his Sega Genesis and we all played against each other in Sonic. We did a lot of late nights, but it was time I had spent outside of my house.

About a month before homecoming rolled around I felt like I wanted to go to homecoming. I didn’t have any idea who I would ask, because there was no in particular I really felt like asking. I ended up going and I learned that I didn’t know how to dance, but it was all right because a majority of the guys I saw sucked also. I spent most of the night wondering if someone saw how bad I looked dancing. My date was really cool, but we were just friends after that.

By the time the year was almost over I realized I had made some progress with people and trying to be less awkward, but I still had a long way to go. Girls didn't scare the crap out of me as much as they did when I started freshman year. One day I asked myself “What qualities do I like in my friends or a girlfriend?” I thought the question would be easy, but it wasn’t. The more and more I thought about it I realized I didn’t have a definite answer for that. All of the social interaction I have ever had in highschool hopefully will help me answer this question, because even as a senior I have no clue.

my old memoir

was going to have this as my memoir, but I decided to write about something else. (kind of light topic, didn't correct any errors in it though):

Karate was really fun when I was younger. My Dad had taken Karate before and he thought it might be a good idea to go check out this place near our house. I remember hoping I wouldn’t actually have to get involved in Karate when my Dad mentioned it. About a week later we went over to the Karate school and he was impressed with the Senseis of the school and the way they treated their students. I remember I was in sixth grade that day and I absolutely did not want to be there. However, when I first saw my Gi I was excited. I wanted to join the class right away and I took my first class that day. I took a white belt and got dressed up. Even though the class was with kids that were way younger than me, I thought Karate was the coolest thing. I was excited when I got home and I imagined myself as being a master at Karate. I imagined myself blocking every punch threw by a made up guy in my imagination. Part of why I liked Karate so much was because of the people I met while in it. The people that run the school are Sensei Chuck and Sensei Carol. Sensei Chuck is a very nice guy and had been a police officer. He was very intelligent and had a degree in Psychology and a very reserved guy. Sensei Carol on the other hand had a very bubbly personality and she was very cool. She is an out of the box thinker and very bright. I really did enjoy Karate because of the way people interacted with each other. The first day I was there I saw these guys sparring and then afterwards they went over and gave each other high fives. Anyways, as I progressed through the belts I got to know more people. My Dad was happy whenever he took me to Karate also because he would talk to nearly every parent in the school. As time went on I got to know Sensei Carol and Sensei Chuck more and realized how cool they were. As I got better reflexes and technique I started to compete in sparring at tournaments. Tournaments are held in huge areas, looks like an empty warehouse. I remember getting extremely nervous before every tournament. I would pace around until my round was ready to go. Honestly, the first time I competed at a tournament I got destroyed. It was fun though because we would all go to Red Robins after the tournaments and we would have a party of 30. I also asked out the first girl I’ve ever asked out in Karate. I was really infatuated with this girl and she was one of the prettiest girls at the school in my opinion. I was way too nervous to actually ask her out on a date for a long time, but we had classes together and we would partner up often. I remember we would play around and laugh during class. She was aggressive whenever she sparred against me though. We would go against each other often and the Senseis didn’t mind it too much because we were pretty much the same in weight, height, and skill level. One of the classes I ate dinner before and I dreaded the fact that Sensei Rick was going to head the class. If he was heading the class you knew that you would feel like you want to puke by the end of the class. That class as I thought was a very intense class. Eventually, I was paired up with Monique and we sparred. Soon after we started I decided to do what I wanted to do long ago, I would ask her out. Maybe 5 minutes before class stopped I asked her out,then she said yes and I puked all over the mat. I remember some kid asking if I had Chinese food for Dinner.

THWACK!

"Jingle Bells, Batman Smells... Robin Laid An Egg! The Batmobile Lost a Wheel,
And the Joker Got Away!"

yeah thats right

spiderman for life!

Hi locals

Just changing it up a bit--you know--something dark for the holidays. 11 days left together--moisture in the corner. Do you want me to leave this blog up after the semester ends? Do you need my sizes and fav colors for Christmas?

4-99 Black

Cliques and Clicks

I was teaching the novel a separate peace. I talked to my students about cliques, groups, circles, friendship, belonging, being on the fringe. I related my stories of being a brown kid in a predominantly white high school. We talked about how it is also OK to belong and fit in. We all want to fit in. I wore clothing to look more like the majority.

We named some of the cliques in school; skaters, preps, jocks, goths, but we never mentioned a trench coat mafia. We talked about why some teens wear black. This was no dissertation statistically riddled with research, but my freshman could see the symbolism of wearing black—the absence of color the presence of separation and belonging. We talked about Black being the color you wear until you find the color you are.

Black is teenage purgatory.

I shared my observations of watching a neighbor boy-a nice kid, walk home many days. He always—not sometimes-always wore some piece of black clothing. He’s a clean kid: nice haircut, nice black pants, brand name black backpack, and nice black athletic shoes. I asked my students why this kid always wore black—he wasn’t a Goth. They told me that he just likes black. They told me he was trying to fit into lots of groups. They speculated that if he wore black, even if he looked nice, kids that were skaters and preps would like him

a touching story about the healing power of love

Dearest bloggers, so many of you have expressed fear about sharing your story during the peer edit process or in front of the class. You do not have to read yours to the class or peer edit with a student you don't know or trust. If you need feedback from me--prepare specific questions for me about your piece and bring the questions to me rather than the entire draft. At this point a couple dozen students have expressed fears about topic, content, sharing, and changing topics. Just shut up and write! Seriously, write without editing and correcting, don't go back and reread it yet, don't share it yet, take a break from it when you are at a stopping place. I can't wait to read your work and listen to you share. Oh the healing power of love! What a touching story.

Lloyd

Leyba says

Dear Josh, no need to feel awkward. I never gave it a second thought. I just didn't want to read outloud cuz some people don't want to hear about it because it is too weird or hard. My hope was to have some questions about the piece and about writing. Thanks Jen for your words. I love you guys!

Lloyd

Silence

Silence during 2nd... Yeah im sorry about that. I wanted to say something but i couldnt. Maybe it was out of respect that most of us were stunned silent. Some memoirs will be more extensive than others. On the record... Even though you thought it was edited like crazy it was bold and it told your story. I wish i hade something lame to write about in my memoir. I think i might focus on something a little less obvious. BUt what? who knows.

Why leyba why?

Leyba.....

you stuck us with ms nykanon today......

seriously leyba


cruel and unusual punishment





(sorry but it had to be said.....)
(@>.<)--@*(nykanan)

YOU

I haven't bloged in forever, but Leyba keeps talking about how no one blogs any more so I figured I could post something i wrote a while ago. If you have any suggestions on how to make it better, or a different ending let me know

YOU
I like how you paid attention to me at the party
I like how you came and asked for my number at the grizzly rose
I like how you asked me to prom deep in the mountains next to an abondon shack
I like how you drove in circles trying to get out of my neighborhood because you were nervous
I like the way you attempted to dance
I like how I started to realize you weren't just some guy when you put your arms around me and gently kissed my head
I like how it was just you and me at after prom and not you, me, and all your friends
I like how we didn't kiss for about a month
I like how when we finally did kiss I just melted
I like how I slowly got to know your moods and facial expressions
I like how I can tell you anything and really count on you
I like how you have to be the last person I talk to every night or i don't sleep as well
I like how we can go out and do something unexpected like go for a walk and end up jumping in a lake
I like how I can wrestle with you in the rain
I like how you remember things that are important to me
I like how you get this look on your face when you get ready to tell me something you are nervous about saying
I like how you dance around when you finally beat me at something because we both know it doesn't happen very often
But what I like most, is how I don't like these things, but how I love them, and how I love you

Seize the Day

So...I have never blogged before but I feel the need to today,(leyba called me a sell out today) and it got me thinking, I'm not a sell out, I'm a quitter. I give up way too easily. I think it's a safe to say that I've check out of high school, and I know I'm not the only one. But I feel that because of this state of mind ,I've already lost out on some really important things. So...my message for today...do it, don't question your self, there is no time for that. I learned that the hard way and it totally sucks. I say this only cause I might have missed out on something great, I hate going through it, I don't want to see anyone else do the same.

Ok, my Oprah rant is officially over, sorry I had to get it off my chest

Jenn.. Exposed. (Incentive to read the blog)

This is something I put together after the birth of my son. For those of you who didn't know that I was pregnant. These are some of the moments I tried to capture during the adoption.



Dim lights surround a chaotic scence
My defining moments are staring down my back
Life is halted while trials are showcased
The meaning of life is starting to take shape.

Baking in the warmth of his small helpless body
His life is predestined and I am simply a messenger
Each breath of life screams obedience and trust in a higher power
He is my greatest accomplishment.
Yet my heart will always break for him

The lights calm and the setting surreal
The soft scents of newborn and formula swallow me whole
His soft whimper makes me understand.
I now realize that love has never meant anything.

Its a bit brighter now and we are hiding together.
Its safe and no one can find us
My family has taken shape
the 3 of us lay untouchable together.
I will take apart these moments and suffocate myself in them.

Desperate.
My body called to him in ways it felt unnatural to fight.
Sacrifice became real and goals became reachable.
While walking with the lord, he held me to his chest
the way I had held my son.
"I lived this" I scream.

Suddenly, my life has meaning like it never had before.
A level of selflessness is obtained
and I will take each blessing Ive earned.
Changing the lives of others is something worth living for.
My sons changed everyone who knew of him.

Embracing him, wanting him, needing him.
I simply lived for him
Now he is an example of what can be done in one person
to complete something bigger.
I have walked through heaven and now I am simply living.

I love him, I loved him, and he gave me back each day I sacrificed in one tiny breath.


This is personal but I hope people read this. CHOOSE LIFE.

Nobody blogs any more leyba,
its sad...

I read a lot today for you too.
You should feel privileged.

Plus im really starting to like the book.

Sweet New Jersey

I walked down the dock filled with weathered green benches and dim light shining down from the lamp posts held high above my head. It's a cool night as the breeze brings smells of seaweed into my nostrals and the days leftover rain onto my head. Staring out at the Jersey shore the waves bring a sedated calm feeling that overcomes my whole body. I feel at ease like there are no troubles in my life. And then...it hits me. I look around and see all the calm small houses as my surroundings. I watch the waves crash over rocks ahead of me and focus on the sand beneath my feet. And then I break. I fall to my knees and begin to cry. All of my lost thoughts are suddenly flooding my head. And I think of you...and how perfect you are...how perfect we were. I wimper whispering the plans we had made together of the life I will never see. I sob and mourne for all the broken pieces that I will never put back together. Though you don't want to be put back together. You are content with your new enviornment, one that subtracts me from the equation. I slowly get up and start to walk towards the waves. I walk closer until the cold surge of water sweeps my feet away and I let the embrace of the waves take over my body. I drift and finally feel content. The cold water overcomes my body as I let it take hold and think to myself that this is how it should be. Sweet New Jersey I have set sail in you for good and let you save me. Now I become a drifter in you for always.

Two Memories

The cold claps at my arms and clings to my chest. It creeps down my lungs and strangles the warmth. They haven’t felt this kind of cold in ages.
__________
On the road a street lamp distributes light. Illuminating a kiss exchanged on the sidewalk. Two bodies held close bound by warmth. Mist from the cold, illuminated by the lamp adds an orange hue; a tint of reflection and memory.
__________
Black wool jacket, draping over a shrugged form. Feet gliding as fast as comfortable, bag bumping on the pacing leg. Each breath is a cloud of mist like a puff of smoke. Nose and Ears red from fighting off the elements. Taking another long breath, ignoring the cold, then letting it free. Just to watch the mist tumble and twist.

Missed You

Hey Kids, missed you today --sniff sniff. How was the sub today? was she talking smack? I heard she made some unfriendly comments about Columbine.

political party (all night)

so now its time to raise the question.
who gets the vote in the next election?
who's the man we want running our lives?
cuz to me the definition of a politian is someone who lies.
do we take the "warlord" or the "pacifist",
the changing policies or he who insists
that violence can cure a troubled world
as he smiles like a saint, teeth like pearls?
our brothers and sisters are fighting like slaves
while our founding fathers are turning in their graves.
but we'll kill them all by cutting the funds
just like the iraqis kill them off with their guns.
to me we need a man whos focus is a solution
while he keeps in mind our country's constitution.
we need someone who is conscious of air pollution
but knows the importance of our educational institutions.
i think its rather sad that you dont stand a chance
at being president unless youre a republican or democrat.
cuz maybe a change in the party will do us all some good.
no more donkeys or elephants, their goals are understood.
they fight too much, bring shame to one another.
we need someone who respects his disagreeing brother.
what we need is an independent, a green party debater.
but your vote goes to waste if you give it nader.
so what needs to be done, please make a note,
is a system where the independent gets an equal vote.
cuz i truly believe that equal opportunity
should be given to every political party.

Radical Joshward

jOsh JoSh leave co0orazy blob bloG for leyba and few who read blog blog! <(0.o)>

JuMp juMP Tv (@>.<)--@ *POW
and the shOw go Poof* with a xangpop

triba1 dan$e <(*.*<)^(*.*)^<(*.*)>^(*.*)^(>*.*)>
trIba1 d@nce
$1@p desck
d0n3



e1 Fin

sincerely y0ur$,
radical joshward
(>-.-)>

Alienation

Being different where they look the same in clothes and name
goes against the socialization in my public biased education
And now the different ones are so many that they too look the same
but they aren’t to blame cuz conformity tailgates originality so closely
that change is expected while style is forecasted and projected more than protected
And we all get aboard cuz the marginalized are strong but lonely
and we’d rather be weak than the Only
And I’ll take my outsiders in books bands and movies but not as my neighbors and homies I’ll stick with my phonies cuz when we stand side by side it’s like camouflage from choice
My brand name is the voice that I pay for full price
But I don’t mind watchin the ones called unique as they pave the path that I soon will call mine

freestyle 1

i can now say that i'm free to be me.
but being that free takes responsibility.
no longer can i "borrow" fashion tips
from the kid with beard screaming laugh-out-loud quips.
to be that hip takes a careful eye
pulling apart pieces from this guy and that guy
and applying them to yourself, to make you unique.
and although the elements are you, this person you see
is me, being me, living happy, not tied down, but free.
i pledge myself to honesty, i am free, not you, but me.

spittin rhymes at columbine
Lloyd Dobler

Spittin Rhyme in Columbine

Dear Bloggers, (all four of us lately) how do you like the new look? Any thoughts on viewing def jam poets? I want some of you to think about writing and performing some poetry at the next talent show. I have this fantasy about having a poetry night in the auditorium and we all perform a piece or two. Am I dreaming? Gotta dream. I want our words to reach more than those of us in this room.

Shorb & Josh makeup
Lloyd Dobler

Bad News for People Who Love Good News

Let's face it, a lot of indie rock bands are starting to appeal to the masses. Thanks to Spin Magazine and other media, a handful of bands that have stayed relatively unknown have released albums that have veered from their traditional sound and gained favor among an unlikely crowd. Take Good News for People Who Love Bad News, the latest from Modest Mouse. This album caught me off gaurd a little bit. It was really strange seeing the foursome release a music video on MTV, especially since the loyal Modest Mouse crowd saw the devistation to come. 'Float On' would make Modest Mouse a one-hit wonder. Its sad to see a band labeled that for a song that sounds nothing like past Modest Mouse music. Ben Gibbard also pulled some media magic in his release of Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism, as well as Give Up by the Postal Service. Gibbard has been pouring his heart out for years with his sharp words and complete sentences in Death Cab's past releases, incuding We've Got the Facts and We're Voting Yes and the Photo Album, to name a couple. These Barsuk Records releases have been adored by fans for years, while the band was able to avoid publicly exploding. Now-a-days, a Death Cab for Cutie Transatlanticism T-shirt can be purchased at the local Hot Topic for the great price of $19.99. At least Gibbard and the boys are making a little more income.
There are some indie musicians who have rised in popularity but have avoided selling out completely. Take Saddle Creek's Bright Eyes. With the release of LIFTED, or The Story's in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground, the longest record title ever, many people were turned on to the band. I'll be the first to admit that I heard Bright Eyes after the 2002 release of LIFTED. But the Bright Eyes crowd has remained relatively indie. There hasn't been to much selling out, and the music video for "Lover I Don't Have to Love" didn't cause a big "Float On" style riot. Bright Eyes is, however, gaining a rise in popularity. And sadly enough, I must say that some are soley turned on by singer/songwriter Conor Oberst's looks. I've seen it myself when I was told to turn off "the worst band ever" only to have the girl say three months later that she loved Bright Eyes because of Conor Oberst.
But why can't the indie scene stay indie? It seems we're dropping the indie, which commonly means 'independent', from indie rock bands quite often now. As an indie rock fan, my wish would be that the bands could stay underground, make money, and not appeal to everyone. I would be perfectly happy if groups could stick to the Built to Spill pattern. Built to Spill, who is signed by Warner Brother Records, has stayed under wraps for years now, but makes enough money to constantly tour and keep singer Doug Marst from getting a day job. The same proves true for Pedro the Lion, Jets to Brazil, the entire Jade Tree line up, and countless others in the indie scene. So next time you're looking for a good CD, stick to your own tastes and not what Spin tells you.

The inside of my head. Today at least.

Yet another one of lifes trials upon my doorstep.
I think i must be on the top of God;s priority list and that he is teaching me a thing or to about faith. Faith in his plan for all our lives. It was so hard for me to buy into any of that.. For a long time and now I am a testimony. So my days have been weak lately... truly i am being held hostage in my own home. I guess i just feel disconnected which isnt a really uncommon feeling. My heart seems to beat a little bit faster when the topics of college, future and graduation cross my mind. I think im just worried that I have no control and these things will slip right over my head. I think quite honestly that i have had it easy for awhile. My life didnt seem as tragic as everyone made it out to be. And i liked that i felt strong enough to handle everything that was laid upon me. However, in a moment it was out of my control. I have to wonder if everyone gets a really big taste of life at some point to ensure its realness. And if thats true than here i am in the midst of mine.
I think the greatest memories I have from post senior year are mostly jsut being free. Freedom is the greatest secret to high school. Its almost like were old enough to know how to start having fun but young enough that we dont have to take any responsibility for all the stupid crap we come up with. Being in the car on cold nights and having no where to drive to, listening to the same song over and over agian at 3:38 in the morning because you cant get enough, and waking up from a night that should have never ended. These moments are what highschool is about. What we dont realize is that by not protecting ourselves these nights disapear.
One of the best nights I can remeber was as stupid as a night at my friend Laras'. Summer before last me and my close group of 6 met up at her house for our usual nights of thinking of something really fun to do. The night ended with the six of us lined up on the 7th or 8th hole of the golf course that connects with Laras backyard up in Willow springs, with a big blanket. My friend Josh and I had every intent on making everyone sleep there. We ended up here after a good 3 hours of riding around on golf carts and crashing lara's moms golf cart into a fence. I remeber laying there on the grass with Josh on my left and Lara and mark somewhere near my head and thinking I might actually fall asleep out there. Mid thought.. The freaking sprinklers turned on and there was about 50 feet between us and Lara's back yard. It was such a simple night but for some reason i dont think i will ever forget it.
I wish i thought this blog had any real meaning.. I just thought i would pick my brain with all of you.

The Kid

The short kid with the backwards hat glanced the store over. He took into account where the security cameras were located. He scanned over every detail of the store, making a perfect mental record of them. He took a few steps forward, trying not to look to suspicious. He knew what he had come for, and he was not going to leave without it. He walked down the electronics eisle, making an occasional glance behind him. He wanted to avoid people, cameras, and most of all, the employees on the sales floor. He reached the spot. His heart began to beat rapidly. His hand moved slowly out towards the package. He looked to the right. A man was browsing through the CD's about twenty feet away. But the man was absorbed in his browsing, and sent no attention in this direction. The short kid continued reaching for it. His index finger touched the outside of the package. His heart began racing faster. He looked around again. No one. He slid the index finger to the back of the package and pressed his thumb to the front, sliding it slowly off of the peg it rested on.
"Can I help you with anything?" The kid jerked his hand off of the package, bringing it up near his shoulders. He looked up with an expression of terrified shock. A bald man stood in a blue polo shirt; the store's uniform.
"No, just looking. Thank you. I think I found what I'm looking for." The kid sputtered out. He looked away and turned his body away from the bald man. The man casually walked further down the eisle and began shuffling some items a few feet from where the kid was standing. 'Great,' he thought, 'This is going to take forever.' The kid turned a corner and looked at the computer cables that were on display. A few minutes later, he turned the corner. The man had moved on and the eisle was vacant once again. The kid was going to move quickly now. He took several quick glances, slid the package off of the peg and bent down. He slid the package into his jacket pocket and tried to look as if he was viewing the products on the bottom shelf. With the package safely tucked in his jacket, he walked to the front of the store. The bald man smiled and pointed to him. His heart stood still. His face filled with panic, and blushed red. He thought about running, but his legs froze. His heart raced. He took several slow steps towards the door. The bald man looked at him. Their eyes tangled into an awkward gaze. Fear overtook the kid. "Have a nice day!" the bald man said, and the kid stepped out the door.

Sea Turtle

The ceiling was at one time white, or at least he hoped so. Now it was a pale yellow, with dark splotches where the water had seeped through. Rolling over, he remembered that there was no clock in the room. Lifting his arm he read 11:37. He strained to remember when he had begun his staring match with the ceiling. He sat up, u could hear the plastic cover on the mattress rub and whine. Scratching his head he stood and walked to the bathroom, on his way picking up a red toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. He turned the metal knobs on the faucet and for a second nothing came out. A rush of air shot out followed soon after by muddy brown water. He could have thrown up right then and there. He threw the brush and paste on the floor and headed for the door. Turning the handle he glanced over at his mud-ridden sandals and said, “screw it.” He fumbled for his keys and jammed them into the ignition. The old jeep lurched to a start. Flipping it into reverse, he slammed the gas, whipping the car around. He could have screamed. He felt like throwing his fist through the dash and slamming himself against the wheel. But, out of the corner of his eye he saw something swaying back and forth. Turning and focusing he saw the miniature hula dancer on his dash. Smiling, waving, and swaying. A smile came to his face. He put the jeep into first and started down the wet dark road. The trees whipped past, each one greener and taller than the last. The branch’s overhead crawled across the sky from either side. Stretching and reaching for the others across the black paved river. In a flash the trees disappeared revealing a blue-gray desert sea. He pulled off the road and parked. Opening the door he could hear the ocean calling. In the dim light all he could hear was the rhythmic crashing of the waves and the crushing of sand beneath his feet. He sat down, digging his bare feet deep into the sand. He folded his arms and starred over the water. In the distance he spotted a sea turtle floating along on its back. The turtle wobbled and then splashed upright. Bobbing for a few seconds and returning underwater. He began to laugh.

The Blanket

Friday night 6:00, I leave work with no where special to go. I start driving down the road. I take off towards the mountains. When ever I don’t know where to go I always go to the mountains. Thoughts rush through my head. I found out my little brother is more experienced with girls then I thought. I don’t want him to do something he might regret. I want to help him savor his innocence. Yet, I find myself unable to talk to him. I don’t want to act like his mom, because I’m not I’m his sister. I don’t want to say anything to my parents because then he won’t confide in me. I pass by a dark road. I swing back around and take the road. I pull the car over and just sit. I wonder if he is smart enough to figure things out or if there is some way I could guide him? I crawl into my back seat, lie down, and pull a blanket over me.

Tick Tock

White that’s all I see. I lay here on my back starring at the ceiling. Tick tock tick tock. The clock keeps moving. No matter what I do. It just keeps getting later and later. You think I would learn from the past. Hell I’ve only been in school for 13 years. Well I guess you could say 10 years. Kindergarten, first, and second don’t really count. Now those were the days. You were taught how to share. “Now lets all play together with the legos.” If I could back to those days I promise I would share. I would share every toy I had. I would never take the last cookie. But that’s just not how it is. I take a deep breath. Breathing in through my nose and how through my mouth. I sit back up, and open my math book. Flip through the zillion pages until I find the one I am looking for. The one with the huge equations and no numbers. I reach for my yellow pencil, that has chew marks all over it. I’m going to be sick tomorrow. I have eaten an entire pencil. I look back at the page and… DING, DING, DING… AHHH my alarm clock is buzzing, it’s already time for school, I must have fallen asleep. How could I have fallen asleep? I have all this homework. I run down stairs grabbing all my books. I run into the kitchen to say goodbye to my mom. I enter the kitchen and she’s not in there. Never in my entire life has my mom not been up before me on a school day. I’M DEAD. I died last night. No one is in my house. I can’t even find my dog, my mom isn’t up. I open my mouth as far as it goes and let out the loudest scream I have ever made. I hear a clunk upstairs and my mom comes running down the stairs. I turn pale, and just stare at her with my mouth open. She looks at me and asks me “What in the world do you think you are doing at 6:00 on a Saturday morning.

My mistake

Oh man I think I’m ready. I hope when he looks at me he doesn’t see a mother. I’m not a mother. I’m only 26. I want a life. When I was 16 I made a mistake that I chose to live with, but know I quit. I love my mistake very much. I think he is old enough now to fend for himself now though. Twelve is old enough. Ding Dong… Oh he’s cute. I hope I don’t fall in these red stilettos. They make my legs look really good though! Who knows what this night will entail. We hop in his red, ’65 Camero. It’s gorgeous. Perfect condition. Oooo and a lot of power. I hope we go to a nice restaurant. Did I lock the front door? Damnit, did I lock it? Maybe my mistake will come down from his blessed room and see it unlocked and lock it. I hope so. This restaurant looks really fancy, and he is so cute. Walking through the restaurant doors reminds me of my front door. God I hope I locked it. The lighting in here is romantic and passionate. I love it. The food, the man, the restaurant are all amazing. I really want to go back to his place but I think I’ll ask him to take me home and call me tomorrow. I have to see if I locked that darn door. I always lock the door. This time I don’t remember though. The door is always locked. I never forget. He speeds back to my place. We do have an amazing kiss that kind of makes me forget that the large scarlet door in front on me might not be locked, and my mistake might be kidnapped or hurt. Oh that was an amazing kiss. He’s going to call me tomorrow! I look at this giant barrier in front of me and my hand floats to the door knob. Oh my God it’s not locked. I wish I could have flown up the stairs instead of ran up them. I wish I didn’t wear these damn shoes. I open his door. He’s sleeping. Everything is fine. I’m fine. He’s fine. We’re fine. Thank you God. I promise next time I will bolt the door shut.

ouch

My head hurts.......

Sometimes I, or The Cassette Recorder

Sometimes I play guitar when I'm feeling depressed, anxious, or critical. I spend time on many of the songs I write, revising and changing the lyrics until I'm satisfied. I also take time changing the riffs around, which could entail adding chords or bridges or anything musically. The music never takes as long as the lyrics. I still have a stack of songs that are waiting to be finished. But every now and then, when I'm feeling particularly inspired, I'll pull out the cassett recorder and put it on top of a chair or my dresser. I then figure out where my mouth needs to be and where my guitar needs to be so that both are heard well, and one doesn't drown out the other. Then I just sing. And play my guitar. And whatever comes out comes out. Its a song. A complete thought. And it always contains peices from my life. Anyway, after I record, I sit down and write out the lyrics in this red notebook. I think the cassett has five songs now.

He suddenly suspiciously and covertly used adverbs

Dearest Bloggers, My writing was finally posted today. The writing deals with the shootings, so if the subject stirs up emotions that you want to avoid, don't read it. The writing has been edited by the staff at SPLC and it is very different and watered down from my original submissions. If you have questions or thoughts--don't be afraid to ask--seriously--you can ask me the question that you are afraid to ask. Write. http://tolerance.org/teach/expand/mag/features.jsp?p=0&is=35&ar=522&pa=1

Lloyd

girls

so i had to write this for psycology but i really liked it so i decided it might do something here. the assignment was just 50 words on girls. heres what i got



girls – at this age I really don’t like relationships because no one dates for the right reasons most of the time. I never feel the need to be sexually attracted to a girl unless they have a personality to offer me. I used to not care and I would “do things” just to do them because I was lonely and that was a temporary way of making myself feel wanted and fulfilled. However this was just an illusion, a temporary fix of a much greater problem that I was just lonely. So now instead of giving in to the temptation to “do things” and seek after it, I don’t really think its that great because I’m not really happy after I’m just temporary fulfilled, then im even lonelier later because it had no meaning behind it, and without real meaning it has lost all point and importance, thus I’m not interested.

The Songs of My Heart 2

Last December, you asked for my number. You called the standard 3 days later. You took me to dinner and a movie on our first date. You took me bowling. You took me to meet your family. You took me to prom. You took me to the mountains. You took my breath away.

But you always kept me waiting - and it makes me miserable. But just before it's too late and I almost give up on you, you turn around and say or do something that makes it all ok. And makes me think you're worth every heartache I go through.

"Life is how you grow. You live, you learn, and then you know."
"I make believe that you are here. It's the only way, that I see clear. What have I done? You seem to move uneasy. And everytime I try to fly, I fall. My weakness caused you pain, and it sets my suffering. At night I pray that soon your face will fade away. But everytime I see you in my dreams, I see your face. It's haunting me. I guess I need you baby."

Untitled

He spent a lot of time in his room. From his throne he saw his headphones sprawled out on the table much like his life. They drown out all the lies. The picture reminds him of how his mom told him that she would spend time with him, but there was another man to take his place every night. Dad lived in California. Cards in the mail on holidays were his only way of talking. He's not like other kids, homework was his relaxation. Reading was his escape. School was his physical activity. The cross on the wall was his praise. Mom stopped going to church after the divorce, but he still went every Sunday... to get answers and love. Magazines on the floor are a collage of a perfect life he wished he had. The window was his only outlet to the world. At least he could trust his shoes to protect his feet. He couldn't rely on much else. I never got to know the man this boy grew up to become. I knew the spirit that lived within him but not the child within. I loved him from head to toe. Inside and out. The child within him was never allowed to live. He wouldn't let it escape. Ever. Maybe that's what killed him. While listening to the eulogy I can feel him inside of me. The smile on my face and the happiness in my heart explained it all. He is now free. Free to be himself. Free to be the child he never got to be. Too bad I didn't' get to share this with him.

( this is one way i wrote it. I wanted to portray a boy sitting on his bed looking at things in his room and being reminded of things. This is what it turned into. I need help... please)

a box to keep shut...

I packed up all your things today...i'm cleaning up my act. Ready to get up on my feet again...this time without you. And do I feel any regret today packing away my memories? Not one...and the show goes on without you. So I hope your truly happy now and good luck in your life. I'm holding out for something new something worth my while. Always thinking to myself it should of never ended this way. But you know I now agree...it was all for the better and i'm so glad. I'm not saying i'm not sorry because you know I am. But I realize this isn't the focal point in my life. Was I a fool to waste your time? Waste mine as well...I'm sick of all your contridictions. I know who I am and I see who you are....finally. I always thought you were how I ought to spend my time. This will be a box I will open in the long run....for now i'm content with you in hiding.

Did it take me long enough? Are you happy now?

lucky day

The door swung open. Staggering out of the bar, he fumbled for something in his pocket. Finally achieving his goal, he pulled out a cigarette. Half-bent and dirty, he placed it into his mouth only to realize…. He had no light. Shrugging, he continued to walk; cigarette still hanging from his lips. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he starred at his ever-pacing feet. The sun had already begun to set, and newspapers blew over the dimly lit sidewalk. His stomach grumbled. He couldn’t remember the last decent meal he’d had. Was it the noodles from Mrs. Chang’s down by the river? Or maybe that free sandwich Doris gave him, after screaming in his ear for what seemed like hours. On and on and on about how he never stopped by anymore and how he should clean up his act. Either way, he could care less. It didn’t change the fact that he had no money. Slumping into the nearby park bench, he glanced to his right. Resting on top of the rustled newspaper was a pack of matches. Picking it up, he saw there was one match left. “Must be my lucky day.”

untitled

A single cloud drifted slowly in the darkening sky. Passing behind the large wooden cross stationed atop the old abandoned church. He stood on the first step in front of the building. The old blue bicycle resting on his leg and a single white flower in his hand. Gently he set the bicycle against the steps and drew towards the wooden doors. Kneeling, he placed the flower at the edge of the door. The wind began to pick up, rustling his worn blue suit jacket, and swaying his silver streaked hair.
The people of the street witnessed this event once a week, almost religiously. The children stared and whispered, "mr. grey" as he rode to and from the church. Everyone had their own idea of who he was, what he did. Yet not a one of them ever talked to him. No one even knew his name.
He stood up again, slowly drifting back to the old blue bicycle. His motions where fluid, if you didn't look closely enough...you might see a ghost rather than a man. Lifting his leg, sitting on the bike, and placeing his feet on the pedals. He gently glided away.

Who is to blame?

Running through the streets of Manhattan as if I'd just stolen someone's hand-bag. I knew I'd be late. As I'm running I can't help but think of that damn women whom I felt it polite to hold the door for while obtaining my morning latte. Her and her 12 different custom-to-order lattes set me back at least eight minutes. Eight minutes is like five hours when there is a 9:00 deadline and an 8:00 meeting with people who might actually start to appreciate my talent and give me something real to write about. Instead of this movie review crap that i have been writing for the last 2 years. It hurts to have a story and nobody feels secure enough to read it or to let me write it. Finally, as I approached those heavy, brass doors the fact that I had just run 16 blocks in stiletto heals and my neatly pressed pant suit began to sit in. Slightly desheveled I took a deep breath and opened the door to a meeting that appeared to be ending. I ran in hoping they would all just sit down, but they didn't. Eight minutes they had waited and my story was over. Why why why? I said as I smacked my head down upon that cold glass table top. Serves me right for helping that women. Not only was she probably on time she also had 12 lattes for everyone at her office. Isn't the world sick? While ignoring about 15 people on my way downstairs I bustled through my purse for my last Parliament. Finally reaching the ground floor I threw myself against the hard cement wall of the building and smoked as if the harder I sucked the less Monday morning I would feel.

these watchful eyes upon you...

these watchful eyes make me so angry....so don't notice me again i'm fine with that. Knowing that I hurt you is the worst feeling in the world to me can you honestly not know that? Im giving up, it seems like the easiest way out of this maze i've made for myself. Hoping to win the never ending race for you...It was all for you. I am always here though you don't care so nor do I. I'm sick of wasteing your time so I shouldn't waste mine. I know now how you feel or I always have, just coming to the realization of finally giving up will be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. So will writing this down make me feel better? No....not really and does anyone care? again no...But still I write it so I can remind myself of what I have to do. You play your games and make the rules so I can't win...I will never win. Head full of regrets that you will never know. You say you have pain....No pain you will ever feel will compare to mine. Mine is different in the ways you will never know. Living with the fact, waking up everyday knowing what has been ruined because of decisions I have made. No you don't know pain. Denial is the devils playground so take a swing. Do you regret your lonliness? I do.....apology unaccepted.

Leyba isn't the only one gettin' paid...

So I've discovered that if you do lots of reading and posting while at work, you get paid to do it. I still go home and have my late night writing fix, but I think I could get used to this having an office thing, I like it.

College

Woah college... I will be moving out in less then a year. Yet I have no idea where I will go. I could be brave and go out of state, or I could be safe and stay close to home, where I know people and won't be all alone. I can't seem to find a college that fits everything I am looking for. There's the college that has the amazing campus. Then, there's the college with the awesome athletics that I would love to be a part of. Then there is, of course, the college with the exact major I want. I wish I could be one of the lucky ones that know exactly where I want to go and have it all planned out. Yet everyday I find myself saying, I need to register for NCAA clearing house, I need to call this college and get some information, I need to go and visit this college and see if I could live there. I keep putting it all off, and I don't know why. I know most of you are on the exact same boat as I am, which is a comforting thought that I'm not all alone...

Dream

The dojo was brightly decorated
in a fation unknown to my eyes yet vaguely familiar...
"choose your weapon" said a voice from behind me
i turned, a lady sat behind me, kneeling before a box
In the box was a sword. It was some sort of ceremonial casing, with wooden walls and velvet cloth.
In confusion I circled around and returned to the girl with the sword.
In disgust she stood up and began to walk away.
Before I could utter a word she said, "You have 1 day.....he will help you..."
I looked around yet again. This time a tall oriental man stood behind me.
He wore all black, and held a stoic expression. He had no hair and crossed his armes as if he was deep in thought.
"Come with me." he began. and we walked...

to be continued

Underground Rebel Writing Ring

Dear Bloggers, I love what you are bringing to this space. This feels like a night time classroom to me. I am learning more about you here than in the clique-y confines of the building on the hill. I love writing. I love reading what you think. I love getting inside your head, heart, and humor. As we begin to write more in class, I hope your thoughts will become public. There are so many of you that have amazing thoughts, cool words, and brave tellings. Put aside the drama that is school and be honest with people you don't really know and tell some stories to those you do know. Tell me what you like so we can do more and tell me what is meaningless to you (and why). Simply sit in this writing room in space and ramble about what is on your mind. Just write. To those of you in period four--you really kicked butt today. Period two--I never know what you are thinking. Period three, I'm waiting for you to break out of your shell. Period six--my beloved bizarre period six--half of you are out the door, two of you are sleeping, one of you won't make eye contact with me, and another one of you is sitting on your writing like it is going to hatch any year now. Anyway, I love what each class brings and how you challenge me to learn every period I stand there before you and pretend I know how to teach you to write. Thank you. Write.

It's funny

It's really funny, because the things you plan on working out never do. And I also think it's funny how much someone can change in the span of a day...Though in some cases it may not be their fault. A word from the wise...Well not really the wise because it got me no where, but a word of advice from experience is to figure out who you are before you let a group of people do it for you. High school is full of the most drama I have ever seen in my life and I really am looking forward to being done. I'm glad now that I have found out who I am and don't have to worry about impressing people who have helped shape bad decisions I have made in the past. So, I guess I was just having a head full of regrets and needing to write it down. In the end you really should hold on to what you have while you have it because if you take it for granted, well let me tell ya it really sucks. Just do the things you do for your self and make sure your "running with the right crowd" There is really nothing worse than knowing you ruined something great because you were hanging out with the wrong people.

The Songs of My Heart

I found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new. And the reason is you. I found a reason to show a side of me you didn't know. A reason for all that I do, and the reason is you. I know you're not a perfect person, but now only one song is going through my head when I think about you and can describe exactly how I feel:

"Let's talk this over, It's not like we're dead, Was it something I did? Was it something You said?Don't leave me hangingIn a city so dead. Held up so high, On such a breakable thread.
You were all the things I thought I knew, And I thought we could be.

You've got your dumb friendsI know what they say. They tell you I'm difficult, But so are they. But they don't know me, Do they even know you? All the things you hide from me, All the stuff that you do
You were all the things I thought I knew, And I thought we could be.

It's nice to know you were there. Thanks for acting like you cared, And making me feel like I was the only one. It's nice to know we had it all. Thanks for watching as I fall, And letting me know we were done.
You were all the things I thought I knew, And I thought we could be.

You were everything, everything that I wanted. We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it. And all the memories, so close to me, just fade away. All this time you were pretending, So much for my happy ending."

Well guess what? I'm back to who I used to be. And that's not a good thing.

You said it wasn't all about the 'looks', but now I realize all you wanted was a lady in the streets and a freak in the bed. Pain is love, and love is pain.

How to be a male

Wear our pants down as low as we can without them falling off. Actually wear them low enough to fall off then we can spend the entire day pulling them up. Hell we don't what else to do with our hands, why not use them to hold up out pants. We hate watching chick flicks, we do it because we hope it is going to lead to a sappy part that is going to make you want to make out with us. Oh and for future reference we don't cuddle, we spoon. So when you are talking to all my friends please don't tell them we cuddle. We love watching war movies because it's what all of us want. To be able to take complete control and kill anyone who goes against us. We share everything that would make us seem manlier, even if it's not true. Like telling out guy friends how we handle girls, but when we are talking to girls we all know we do exactly what they tell us. Oh and one last thing, we hate talking about our problems in our lives, we would rather work on cars or watch the football game so stop trying to tell us how we feel.

My Generation

My generation is much different from others past. I don't think it's harder, just different. Every generation has problems. Like I don't have to deal with being a pioneer and walking forever and dealing with the kind of suffering they went through, but I do have to deal with drugs, alcohol, and sex. My generation is independent. My generation is hard-working and confident, and determined ... sometimes ... Other times it feels like my generation is lazy, uneducated, lacking common sense, and not very hopeful or faithful. People live like they have no values, standards, goals, or morals in life. My generation is just getting worse.

Top 5 Candies

1. Milky Way: With the caramel, nugget filling stuff, and the chocolate so perfectly proportioned-you just cant go wrong.
2. Chocolate Covered Raisins: You can almost think you're being healthy.
3. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups: Mmmm ... that smooth, creamy peanut butter. And that chocolate with the little ridges around the edges. And just the right size-not too much, not too little.
4. Jolly Ranchers: Good flavors. Long lasting. Good for when you have the munchies. Refreshing-but make you mouth dry if you eat too many. Weight-loss? maybe if you don't chew them, because you can't really eat a lot of other food when you're eating a jolly rancher.
5. Sour Gummy Worms: You must be in the right mood. Don't eat too many though because they take away all of your spit. Good for waking you up with-they shock your insides.

Brush up on your EVERY DAY english skills!

I know we "learn" lots in all of our English classes, but we all know that some of this so called "propper english" they speak of isn't the way of the streets. Well I'm here to inform you of a teacher unlike any other. Visit UrbanDictionary.com to translate any of this proper English into something you can use and not get beat up for your lunch money. If you like looking at websites, but find their "lingo" is not up-to-date, you can translate whole sites here AskSnoop.com.

Build a poem here

practice your poetic skills without typing
http://www.magneticpoetry.com/magnet/

name your band

the emo band name generator

http://members.aol.com/Valdes379/EmoGame.html

Take the quiz

which saved by the bell character are you?
http://home.mn.rr.com/couplandesque/quizzes/sbtb.htm

A sidenote.

I am a symbol of independence yet all I want is to be owned.
If one person could eat me up inside and hold me together, I may be a hero someday.
I have a story, its a testimony really. I wish you saw it in my eyes.
Maybe then you'd speak to me gently. Or your words would just subside. But maybe your not brave to hear it. Like im not ready to speak it. Its stuck in my throat and i cant swallow.
Its hard not to pity myself for all the moments I thought were inescapable.
Escape this.

I am

I am the river
Blocked by no dam

I am a fly on the wall
The whisper in a crowd

I am the thorn
A string on your finger

I am a drawing
An illustration of ink

I am a list
Drawn out and old

I am the stain
Of another scarred memory

I am a broken mirror
The silhouette of a dream

I am...

I am your disappointment...
I am your wish...
I am your memory...
I am your reoccuring dream...
I am a photograph worth hanging on your wall...
I am your blanket...
I am the words lingering on your lips...
I am the taste on your tongue...
I am a set of song lyrics bringing meaning to your life...
I am a stranger...

Even I got a homecoming date

Diane just said yes to homecoming with me--Lloyd Dobler!
Lloyd Dobler

Where greatness begins
Lloyd Dobler

I wish

I wish I was the perfume still lingering on that shirt
I wish I was the telephone...if only to hear your voice
I wish I was the photograph...for 1 second i was real
I wish I was the holiday...the one you celebrate for
I wish I was the shoulder...the one you rested on
I wish I was a mirror...then would I be perfect?
I wish I was a cloud...now you decide what I am.
I wish I was a match...that never faded.
I wish I was old shoes...that no one could fill.

I wish you were just some poem I wrote…as easily written as erased

Wow

Alot of you have wierd names. Though I should not be one to speak with mine. All the ones I have seen are weird exept for Jenn.

I am...

I am a construction worker.
I am the first curl of hair tucked inside your baby book.
I am the poem on your mothers desk at work.
I am your first pair of ballet shoes you are sharing with your kids.
I am a popsicle turning your lips red.
I am an educator.
I am a dove.
I am a wedding day.

I wish I am

I am my thoughts that drift away like dust in the wind.
I am the voice stuck in my head that should be water coming out of an elephants trunk.
I am floating on a cloud with my prince charming and we have a lifetime in front of us.
I am the impact on someone in my life.
I am breathing under water.
I am my brain comprehending and enjoying the words between the binding.
I am the three legged dog getting made fun of.
I am the shell that protects the snail.

the piano kid is happy

ok. more lyrics.
i was waiting for a bus near st. paul street as the winds caressed my hair. and there was a man with a sign. it said he has no home. no hope. just deep dispair. and i gave him a dollar, it was all i had, because he's got it much worse than me. and although i may be unhappy, at least life is kind to me. and the piano kid is singing back home because he's happier than me. i write my despair on my guitar; he writes love on his keys and sheds his light on me. and sheds his light on me. i remember one winter when i was in love with a girl i could not have. i recorded my thoughts in a diary i kept beneath my bed. just reading the words brings me back to those days and all my agony. i still feel her whisper, the warmth in her eyes, and the cold of january. and the piano kid was still singing back home because he only knows the joy of snowball fights, christmas trees, and getting brand new toys. and i wish that i was him. yeah i wish that i was him.

One of many scars

Wrapped up in your arms was the only place I could see myself. Drowning in my own insecurities, made you look like a hero. We would run away and no one except my emptiness could find us.

don't ever tell me that I didn't love you.
even if it wasn't my heart I've never known a feeling more real.

And don't tell me that it was temporary relief from all the hurt that we both felt. Because I know better. Pain is unescapable but you had many exits. I was trapped in a place where light had no purpose. You wouldnt disagree.

It was such blank occurrence and now all there is is pain.
Had I known it would end so meaningless i'd have never played the game.

Distant memories of times that are so close behind.
Will you bury them like you buried me?
Or will this be the last time.

Ill take your lies as long as they are comforting.
But don't tell me lies that even you cant believe in.

This pale green, this dull and pale green of your lifeless eyes (Good God they always looked so made up) wont leave the place you where you colored them in.

If one night should pass that I cant remember, ill take that as my victory. As my perfect end to this battle that you probably don't know your fighting.

This tale isn't tragic. Despite how it is told. Its just another example of life's best moments burning black and cold.

Awkward

I pushed myself so close to you
You felt it for one night
By dawn it was forgotten
So wrong and yet so right

Your pulled yourself away from me
I'm more sad with each day
I wish that I could tell you
But don't know what to say

So I'll write it in this poem
And hope you comprehend
Read deeply and you'll get it
A longing for a friend

I am your favorite enemy
I'll be your worst defender
I can be yours tomorrow and
I will be yours forever

How To Be Male

To be male you have to have that confidence about you, the confidence that drives girls crazy but we all secretly love deep down. You have to walk the halls like you own them, like you are the cat's meow and no one is going to take that away from you. You have to have that sensitive side that only comes out when that really hot girl you are into is having a hard day. You have to find that balance between being a jerk, the kinda guy that girls always complain about, and a nice guy. But no to nice of a guy cause your friends will find out and you will never live it down. You have to try and remember the important dates, even though you will always forget them. You have to tell your girlfriend that that the sweater she is wearing doesn't make her look fat even if it does, cause it doesn't matter cause in your eyes she is perfect.

Top 5 Movies

My number one favorite movie is Grease. No one is a better couple than Olivia Newton John and John Travolta. I love the time period, all the songs and clothes. It is so sweet how Sandy (Olivia) and Danny (John) change for each other at the end. Also, no girl could look better in black leather pants and heels than Olivia Newton John. My number two pick is A Star Is Born. This one has more of a sentimental reason. My grandmother who passed away when I was five, loved this movie. As I got older my mother told me it was her favorite movie, so that way I could appreciate it more. When she told me this, I just had to have it. Barbra Steisand over came every opstical in her way to accomplish her dream. This was one of the best love stories ever made. My number three movie is Dirty Dancing. This love story is a lot like relationships today, people hiding their mates from their families. Also, its about dancing and I have always loved dancing. Plus, Patrick Swayze is in it and lets face it he's really hot in that movie. The fourth movie is The Last Samuri. Even though I hate war movies I loved this movie. It shows just how dedicated the Samuri are and how disciplined they are. They have such a simple way of life. This is a great way to learn about a different culture. The last of my top five movies is The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I like that movie because its a comedy mixed with a musical. And its also really different. We don't have many movies like that anymore. In my opinion, we should have more movies made like the classics.

Top 5 Coolest People

Number 5 is my favorite teacher Ms. Roark. She start out as my ninth grade geography teacher. Her class was fun. Then I got to know her not only as a teacher but as a friend. In tenth grade she was my American Studies teacher. Her class was so much fun and I learned so much about our country. Then in 11th grade I became her student assistant. She then wasn't a teacher, she became a friend. Everyday I learned more about her, as a person, as a bachelorette, her life, and her family. She's amazing and I will always remember her. Number 4 is my mom. She's done nothing but love me and do everything in her power to let me be as successful as I could be. We might be very different in our opinions such as she's as democratic as they come and I'm a bit more conservative (right). We are also very much alike from the amount of liquid we leave in our glass at the end of the meal, to the way we bite our lips or plan every single thing. She has made me the person I am. Through the bad and the good. Number 3 is the one and only Billy Joel. He sure Didn't Start the Fire but he will be one of the coolest For the Longest Time. His music just makes you feel so good. You can sing along, you can dance. You can sit down in an Italian Restaurant listen to the Piano Man in a New York State of Mind. He's just all kinds of cool. Number 2 is Brent Jackson. He's my soulmate, my best friend, the love of my life. We started dating two years ago this November. He's been there through my parents custody battle over my sister and I, my lovely moods after a 10 hour work day, through fights between me and my mom and my friends. I can sit and look into his eyes and have a conversation. I can sit on his couch with him and watch T.V. and have the best time of my life. I can talk to him about anything and everything. I can laugh and be the dork that I am and not feel stupid (because he's as much of a dork as I am). He's one of the most caring, compassionate, intelligent, and coolest people I know. Number one (sorry Brent) is "The King" Elvis Presley. He's one person the makes America, America, not only through his music, but through his movies, his service in the army and his courage to be who he is. He's by far the coolest. From his hair, to his awesome style to his crazy hips to that amazing voice. He's all around cool. You turn his music on and he takes you to another place. You know the words, you know exactly who it is when his songs come on the radio. He is the king, and the coolest.

I am (Eddy Vedder style)

I am evidence to prove a murderer's guilt. I am a teacher whose attitude does not reflect my salary. I am the chalk on the highbar. I am the safety net at the circus. I am the prize everyone is playing for. I am a payday. I am Mozart's pen. I am Elvis's guitar. I am a raincloud in a time of drought. I am a lost dog that's found its way home.

How to put on a T-Shirt

Ok, we'll start at the beginning so everyone can follow. Walk to your closet, drawer, floor, or wherever you may keep a t-shirt. I recommend walking not running because when you run, you up the chances of falling. Then once you get there and see a shirt that looks clean pick it up. Now bring the shirt close to your face and smell it. If it doesn't reek then continue to the next step. If it does smell bad throw it on your floor and go for another shirt. Continue until you have found a shirt that smells satisfactory. Make sure your shirt is right-side-out. Usually the seems go on the inside. All logos will go on the outside. Now all shirts have a front and a back, and if you can't figure out which is which I suggest that you stop immediately and admit yourself into an asylum and get some major help. Now slip your right arm in the small hole on the right side. Switch and repeat with your left arm. Here comes the hard part, put your head in the big hole in the middle. Pull shirt downward. Congratulations you have successfully learned how to put on a t-shirt!

How to be a female

cry when you found out he cheated on you, scream when your favorite song is on the radio, laugh, gossip, cry, yell, scream, look pretty even when your going out to get the mail, talking, phones, notes, makeup, shop for unnessacary stuff, girlfriends, boyfriends, enemies, scratching, pulling, twisting, give yourself another hour to get ready then what you think you need, dance, sing, sleep, first priority is to care what people think of you

A name is a name is a name...

The definition of a name is "a word or phrase that constitutes the distinctive designation of a person or thing." For me this is true. My name defines me. My name is me. My name is unique and different. My name doesn't conform. My name is simple yet lovely in its own way. My name is charming and fun but doesn't require to be noticed. My name doesn't take too much or give too little.My name brings happiness, not sorrow. My name is thoughtful and serious and humble and bold. I am proud of my name.

Hatred

Hatred towards yourself, others, anyone and everyone. Hate is a strong word and feeling. Hatred is all I can feel sometimes. I feel like it's always my fault, is it really? Is that what everyone tells me when I screw up or is that just what I want to hear? Maybe to me their love and compassion and the corrections they give to me to help me just seem like hatred and dishonesty and just pointing at me telling me, "You're bound to fail, and screw up". I can't do anything right anymore. Is life really worth living when you live every moment of everyday hating yourself for what you have done and what you will do? The answer is yes, it is worth living. The failures and mess-ups are lifes lessons. Grasp them and hold on to them as tight as you can, NEVER let go!

in this dying season

this is a song i wrote. it can be played with D, A, Em, G
it was winter when i met you in the snowy mountain state. you were wearing sweaters made of wool, hand-crafted by your beautiful hands. they were delicate. and you told me you would love to engage in conversation over lunch sometime in the snow and cold of december. because eveything we often bring results in the way we feel. im not telling you what i need, but please do anything for me or for you. and now theres several layers of cold, icy snow forming on the ground below us. in this december chill, i will die all alone in my bedroom. you never returned my call. and i thought everything would be all right, i guess i take things too far sometimes. my mom says let it go but its too hard sometimes, you know, to let something leave your mind.

Name piece version 3

This older kid has a vary difficult name I cant even say. I believe his name is Michael but I cant really say it. Does he get mad at me when I say his name wrong or do you think he doesn't care and just laughs inside? I hope within the next couple of times saying his name maybe I can say it correct. I wonder if he can say my name correct, or does he have trouble too? I wonder why his parents named him Michael, does it mean something, is it a biblical name or what?

How to be a woman

There is nothing simple about being a girl. The complexities of the mind will boggle men for the rest of time. How can getting dressed or parking a car be so hard? When getting mad at something small and seemingly worthless can be so easy. The mission is to confuse man, to make us feel like Hellen Keller in a library. It's at our finger tips but there's no way we'll ever figure it out. Not only does this fulfill their objective of getting all the attention they'd ever need, they procede to act like they don't like it. It's like finding the corner of a circle. Have you ever seen a dog chasing it's tail? Yes, men are the dogs aimlessly chasing, but women are the evil kids tieing a doggy treat knowing we'll never be able to get it.

at the front

I’m at the front of the class
and the looks I’m getting are like you’re chewin’ glass
and the wishes I’m wishin’ are whooshin’ me away
and it’s days like this that I wonder why I stay
and then the freshman girl cries to me cuz she’s eatin’ all alone
and she tells me she’s leavin’ destination still unknown
and I know I’m meant to be here even if the reason is unclear
but the feeling is strong and it’s all I use to steer
and I’m at the front of the class
and the looks I’m getting are like I’m kickin’ ass
and the wishes I’m wishin’ are just to have some vision
and to offer some wisdom in a time of indecision
and it’s days like this that I know I’ll never leave
and this time I’ll finish high school and maybe I’ll achieve
that learning that eluded me while sittin in a seat
And I remember sittin’ there in back in self defeat

?

Guinea Pig

I nearly choked on my own spit while I was trying to read this aloud.

Jenn

Soft and faint, my name leaves a smile on my face during casual introductions. It is a name of comfort in how every person I meet cannot read my soul by hearing it. Jenn means playmate or a mom to play house with. Jenn is easy and fun to call you. Jennifer, being the most common name possible seemed to fit just right. But many who know you would have never names you something so insignificant. A shield comes to mind when i think of my name because I have always been able to hide behind its common nature. "Jenn" is truly who I am... Appearing ordinary and timid but suprisingly more uncommon. My name doesn't burden me the way that other names could. I don't know another girl who wears her name the way that I do. Inside me lies fire, but my undersized name acts as water to anyone who doesn't look too closely. I wonder how much overcompensating I do in trying to be the biggest person I can and fighting off such a monotonous name. Jenn has always meant my biggest specialest friend who I will always look forward to seeing. I wish your name was spoken more often because then I would know that I would see you more. If you looked up my name in the dictionary you would read "soft cheeked and fair." If you looked up my name in its correspondence to my life you would read crazy, free spirited, mellow, loving, and grounded. It would mean sacrifice, selflessness, and trust. However, if my name meant all of these things to the naked eye, I believe I would feel vulnerable and threatened. Threatened, that every person who met me, would know that my heart was soft and harmless. My name would unlock any and all of my mystery. We named you Jennifer because we wanted to protect you.

Approaching your senior year

Okay Okay Okay... Im sure its been said a thousand times by now to make your senior year count. The real question here is have you fully grasped the concept of that statement. This year if you do one thing worthwhile let it be a deeper look into the real person that you are. Self discovery is one of lives greatest privledges. Don't be who your friends think you are at parties or that girl who agrees with everyone in order to be liked by all. Amaze yourself and truly reach out to others. Don't talk behind others backs just because you can and don't analyze other peoples lives because its simply entertaining. Understand that this is your last year of true childhood. Take it or leave it but don't underestimate the power of regret. Regret you may feel a few years from now may not be fixable. Live this year like you mean it. I wish I felt like the message of this bloc would truly be taken in and understood but honestly I don't know that if I read it I would understand or really care what it said. Its just simply one persons opinion on what should be accomplished during this last year of high school. Take it as friendly advice. Advice from someone whose living it with you. Advice from someone who feels like they have blown a lot of their high school experience for the sake of wanting out. Now that were all here it seems more real. Honestly, the winds have shifted and I find myself wanting to stay here in our last year of high school forever. I know the future is bright for most of us who gave a crap in high school, but for those of us who didn't... What becomes of your futures? Make this year count... Let it make up for all the years that you didn't give it your all or all the years when you could have been a better person to all who knew you. Or even just that one day that you could have been a better friend. Columbine High School blows my mind with all of the love and support most of us share with one another. Lets keep it that way and make it stronger. Man.. What a bunch of rambling. I should really end this before I start believing that this may change anything.

Lonely

http://www.geocities.com/kalikiki/leyba.index.html

And

And

how does a teacher even try And reach her
poisoning her future with synthetic pleasure
and I measure and measure the time wasted against
a spoonful of treasure that temporary pleasure
that lives for a second under the stars
making decisions right now
that don’t meet tomorrow anyhow
and I feel like I’m pullin’ a plow through the bog of youth
and screamin’ “hey here’s the truth”
and then he looks away and says what’s for lunch
and the car rolls at lunch and everyone crawls out
the window hole and hides the cans and worries
about the scar for senior pictures tomorrow
and econ notes blow down the fairway to bed, bath, and beyond
and now who is gonna drive tonight cuz its senior year
and we gotta do it right
and she walks alone in her pom gear
that she dreamed about all last year
and now she’s alone as she passes him who’s alone
the pale kid with chains hanging off his soul
cuz she doesn’t know he’s breathin but that’s cool
cuz I’m gonna be somebody even if my dad don’t drive a boxster
and nobody chants “we are” anymore cuz one foots out the door
while he’s making it happen and she’s watching it and clappin
and they walk back with smoke in their hair and wonder what just happened
and they fight in the hall cuz that’s how we show affection
and Chris has three p.e.s but you can’t’ have more than one English
but I watched three movies and it was like so sub-ish

How to be a Parent

Every laugh, smile, frown, tear, they're all there. Lingering in your heart. You see that precious little face in your sleep. You breathe and live your life knowing that they're all right. They're your little angel. Your EVERYTHING! Your child. They're a part of you today, tomorrow, and from now on. What would you do if something happened to them? Would you sit back and watch? No way! You would be there from something as little as a small scratch to clean, kiss, and bandage. You'll be there from the first day of preschool, until their highschool graduation. They're your child, your responsibility. So, for every laugh, smile, frown, and tear, you'll be there. Your the parent, they're the child. You're their hero!

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