A Book Worms Blog

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Wednesday, June 23, 2010

She writes to keep sane

I've decided to start keeping a journal.
A real, paper journal in a hardcover notebook with crisp lined pages.

I've kept journals on and off for my whole life, always with the intention of writing in them every night, and then forget.
This time I want to write in my journal every night, for real.

I'm heading into a new challenge, and I know that if I have a private outlet through this time, I'll be able to deal well.
I'd like to get into the habit before I head into this challenge, so when I get money I'm going to buy a journal.

I can't think of how many things I've said I'm going to buy when I get money and how many things I probably WONT buy, but I'm going to make a point of getting myself a nice journal to keep beside my bed to write in nightly.

Hopefully it will help cure a touch of my insomnia as well, instead of laying in bed not tired at all and deciding to jump on my laptop, I'll write everything out and go to bed!!



"You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you."
-Ray Bradbury

Thursday, June 17, 2010

You can dance . . . if you want to

I've developed a rather bad habit.
Well, it may not be bad, but it's definitely a habit that I should probably alter.

In the last two weeks, I have probably gone to school four times.
Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, my school is work at your own pace, they hand you a module and a booklet of all of your assignments and you hand it all in when you're done.
As I've mentioned in previous entries, I've been in school for less than a month and I'm already finished a full course.

So, no, me being at school isn't a big deal. I don't HAVE to go.
I still get my work done when I'm at home, and I also manage to help out around the house a lot more.
However, I probably get more done at school than I do here.

As far as I'm concerned, I'm behind. (In actuality I'm probably ahead compared to most students in that school) Which I would like to fix.

Last time I was in school, I didn't do much. I turned a short story into a play, but didn't accomplish a whole much. I should be done my second English module already and close to being done with my psych module.

Needless to say, I should be going to school. It gets me out of the house and I can start being more social.

This post shall be my promise to myself. I will go to school on Monday, and not miss another day for at least a month!



"How soon 'not now' becomes 'never."
-Martin Luther

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

It was a radio-active spider, I swear

I'm currently enrolled in a school for people who have a rough time in conventional high school or who are too old to be in a regular high school. (I'm obviously in the second category)

I've only been going to school for approximately three weeks, I've already finished an entire course (don't get too excited, it was just CALM) and am now studying English and Psychology. I've been sick for probably the last week and a half, so I haven't been going to school, but have still been able to do a bit of school work between hacking my lungs out.

In spite of my protests and declaring that I'm still radio-active, my Mother has decided that I have to be in school today. So I am, and it's going pretty well, but I forgot how distracting it can be. I always have my laptop with me, as I prefer to type my larger assignments and all I keep doing is deciding that the music isn't right, checking blogs or trying to focus on my school work.

I alternately turn my music on and off, depending on what I believe other people are talking about (I'm a people watcher and listener and I LOVE learning about people. Which would be a lot easier if I actually TALKED to somebody in my school . . . ) or just because I'm losing focus.

I still feel sick and I truly believe I'm radio-active, so I can use that as an excuse for the reason that I'm not actually getting much accomplished, but I mostly feel like hell for not accomplishing anything. I can't focus!

I'm hoping that blogging about it may help me get all of my "omfgIcan'tdothis" out so that I can actually accomplish something, so we'll see.

Generally I find English extremely easy, but when I'm not super interested in what I'm doing (turning a short story written by another person into a play=LAME) I tend to find it really difficult to actually work on anything.

But this is it! I've blogged and I've been wasting tame! So I WILL get this done and I will get it done well!

Yeah . . .


"Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school."
-Albert Einstein

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Sock Snatching Ninja Dog

My family has two 5 month old Basset hounds and an 11 year old cat.
I've always been a rather large fan of dogs and really enjoy cats now that I'm not as allergic to them.

I love that no matter what, your puppy will always love you and just want your affection and some cuddles. Even when they steal your socks, it's just because they've decided you need some exercise so you are more relaxed when it's petting time.

Although when it comes to my brothers not one of them could ever be my favourite because of how unique they are, I do find myself becoming a tad more attached to one of the dogs. They are Smokey and Bandit, adorable and very very affectionate.
However, Bandit is my puppy. He responds to me best, shadows me the most and just chose me. I've also noticed one of the most adorable habits in the entire world starting to form.
Every night my Mom lets the puppies out (to be called "Bandokey" from now on, a phrase my Mom coined after saying their names too fast) and then brings them into their kennel in the bedroom. The last couple days, I've noticed that while Smokey will follow my Mom straight into the bedroom (Smokey appears to have picked her) , Bandit will come into the living room and sit beside my feet, demanding attention until I give him a kiss. Once he's received his kiss, he promptly trots off towards the bedroom and goes to bed.

I've decided this may be my favourite night-time ritual (this may even rival mine and my Moms tradition of Beatles and Batman) and don't expect it to change any time soon.

Maybe I'm just deluding myself into believing this, but the evidence is clear, and I've decided that even if it's just my delusion, I like it.


"You can say any fool thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, `My God, you're RIGHT! I NEVER would've thought of that!'"
Dave Barry

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Breaking my Heart

I just read the poem "Travelling Through the Dark" by William Stafford, and I think my heart has officially broken in two.
I'll copy the poem here to give you a taste of it, but I want to add a disclaimer that this might break your hearts, if you love animals and baby's as much as I do.

Travelling Through the Dark
William Stafford

Travelling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car
and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;
she had stiffened already, almost cold.
I dragged her off; she was large in the belly.

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason-
her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,
alive, still, never to be born
Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;
under the hood purred the steady engine.
I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;
around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

I thought hard for us all- my only swerving-
then pushed her over the edge into the river.

I think my heart is officially broken!! Is that sad, or what?
I'm sure that the fawn would have died anyways, but I can't help but think there would have been some way to save the baby.
Yes, I am aware that it's just a poem, and not necessarily true, but I can't help but put myself into a position like that and think that the poem should have been different.

I dunno, maybe I'm just crazy.


"Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. "
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Monday, May 31, 2010

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

My Foster Father is part of a "beer ball league" with the motto "My drinking team has a baseball problem"
It's actually softball, and they have a really good time.

I used to play softball about four or five years ago and really enjoyed it,
but eventually hit the point where people were afraid to catch the balls I threw and I stopped playing at my best.
When I was invited to come play, I took the opportunity because I've been wanting to get back into playing for a while now.

I was extremely worried that I wouldn't do well, I had visions of myself trying to throw straight and hitting the person beside me, of trying to swing the bat and falling on my face.
As excited as I was for this, I was extremely worried and didn't want to make a fool of myself.

When we got to the diamond, we discovered that the other team needed more players and offered to switch teams for the game. I informed the team that I haven't played in a while and would prefer to play a field position (I ended up being "rover" who essentially roves around the outfield and makes up for lost space) as well as be at the bottom of the batting list.

It turns out that all of my precautions and warnings were for nothing.
I was hitting like a pro, hitting a double in the third or fourth inning, throwing like a champ (although I didn't have much to catch or throw as the ball always went over my head and towards the outfielders) and everybody was thrilled with me.

I don't think I've ever felt so alive, I'd really forgotten how much I enjoyed being on the diamond and playing this sport.

I think I have rediscovered a passion.


"We read that a form of baseball was a favorite sport among the Greeks. We do remember something about a Homer.
- Unknown

Friday, May 28, 2010

She makes something out of nothing

I'm finally starting this blog for real.

It's not going to have a theme, or any sort of method.
Unfortunately, there is not method to my madness.
But it's always a fun trip.

I'm still learning a lot about myself and I figure I'll continue to do so as I go on this adventure we call life and blog about it.
At least I know a few things.

No matter what's wrong, the sound of my brothers laughter make me feel better.
Dogs are secretly sock-snatching ninja's
and life without a pen and paper, is no life at all.

You can call me Mouse, that's what everybody else calls me.
I'm Nineteen years old,
I just started back into high school
and I'm probably a bit too strange for societies good.

But I'm here and I'm living my life.
Making mistakes all the way along and learning new things as I go.

This is my life
and you're all invited.


"One must be passionate,
not merely exist"
-Kirsten Lobe