Things I learn in Science Class....

Picture this only orange. Except, the drawing looks more like this:

Just not as cute, and with glasses and braces and spikes that are supposed to make it look like a pine cone. 

Now you must be asking what in the world I am talking about. This is what I was eventually turned into in science class today. An orange bear-pine cone. Yeah. I know, weird.

This creature is a mix of "Not the sharpest carrot in the garden," "not the bear with the sharpest teethe," " and something about the least pointy pine cone in the forest".

Sadly, I don't even remember what stupid thing I did to deserve these cruel comments. Plus being told that if I grew a beard I would look like my teacher. And reminded that I had accidentally called myself a guy the day before (although that was not at all what I meant and they all know it!) and a few more insulting comments. 

That mixed with how badly my teeth hurt from the spacers that I got stuck in between them to prepare me for the actual braces on Monday, and not being able to eat breakfast, and being late to school, and getting lunch detention because of being late, and the crazy unnatural cold morning, and the everlasting tortures that come with school- have not exactly given me the best day of my life. Oh well, now is when I listen to my old blog entry and shake away my bad mood and dance in the rain.

By the way, you should be able to click on the pictures to find out where I got them.

Slavery

So, in history we have reached the section in America's history where slavery was dominant. Honestly, this makes me so mad! How could anyone convince themselves that it was okay to call someone inferior, to treat them as property simply because of their skin? It disgusts me, sickens me, makes me want to punch someone. Instead, I wrote a poem, but this poem doesn't even begin to cover what slavery was like or how I feel about it. Anyway, here it is:

Too many people on too small a ship;
Tears roll like rain at each crack of the whip.
United they wait for false scales to tip,
Desperate they hope that their fortunes will flip.


Day in and day out they stare at the door,
Yet still the master gives one order more-
Forever they’re faced with some other chore;
Always a new owner to struggle for.


And each hard day turns to one more cold night,
And at the end there is no strength to fight.
So they are left only dreams of their flight,
Yet they hold to those dreams with all their might.


Years later their child looks back with despair,
For this “great nation” was built on unfair.
So cruel is the world that should have stopped there
With the first captured slave’s desolate prayer.

Sleep

I love sleep. Seriously. I do.

I mean, my self prescribed bedtime is around 9. And yet, it isn't early enough. I wake up at 6, or between 7 and 8 on weekends. Still, I need all those 9 to 10 hours of sleep. Really I do. I mean, if you don't sleep you can't have weird dreams about standing in really tall grass or killing people.

Another benefit of sleep is laying in my wonderful bed covered with blankets with a fan blowing into my face. I could sleep forever.

Why am I writing about sleep? Possibly because my last class was biology, and I was half asleep for half the class. I think the teacher was talking about land fills while I listened to the darkness behind my closed eyes. But then again, as I was really only listening for the sound of my name, I can't be completely sure.

Anyway, as the week continues to drag on, I encourage you all to sleep- at least for a little bit. Maybe you will suddenly realize you love it just as much as me. ;)

Days

And so, with this yet another day goes by. Well, it isn't actually gone yet, but the school part is. What an exciting life I live, filled with the joys of tests. Which, by the way, I got a 56%, and that is considered good. Needless to say it's a hard class.

Anyway, I would like to let you know, if any of you care, I am doing much better. Seriously, you need to realize how nice it is to be able to breathe without making a concious effort at all times. So, stupid asthma, you have been temporarily defeated.

I believe I have no new updates... but I must leave now to go write a story about an elevator. I promised a friend that it WAS possible to write a good story written in first person from the point of view of an elevator. I now need to go prove my point.