MR. RICH - Please read

I just wanted to remind you that this blog is not purely my English blog. Most of my blogs are actually for me and my friends...like that poem there. Mostly for me. I guess you can read them if you really want, but the blogs I'm writing for your class have the word Analysis or Analyzing etc. in the title.

Thanks,
The Orange

IMPOSSIBLE

Boys are weird. I don't understand them. He...is...IMPOSSIBLE. The more I try to like someone more reasonable, someone who is actually nice to me, the more he pops into my head, and the more I just want to cry because I've got it so bad. If I ever get out of it, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind...I would try to explain it, but I just can't find the words, and I get so angry when I think about it anyway. I want to hate him, but I don't know how...

Finding Happiness

It never was simple.
There was always something more;
Something else I always wanted,
Desire to settle one more score.

Have I found it yet?
Only a fool would tell you so.
What I've found is something else,
Lessons to learn and time to grow.

I've found good friends,
I've found laughs, smiles, and tears.
I've found a foundation to hold me
To guide, strengthen, and silence fear.

I have found myself
I now know better who I am
My face no longer a smiling facade
My life no longer deceite, a sham.

I've found someone to love
E'en if there's naught in return.
Someone to edify and teach,
E'en if jealousy doth burn.

Of course there's sadness.
Good never comes without strife.
Though I've found bitterness, cruelty, spite,
I smile, for I've found LIFE.

-Eliza Woodhouse

Booyah - read it, especially the last 3/4

**Most important parts are colored. Ok, not in dark blue or black

WOOO! Done with the English project! No more Riching for a good week. Maybe the presentation wasn't as imformative or involving as it could have been. But I don't care! I'm done! Now I just have to go to concerto night (ew ew ew ew ew 3 hours on the stage, and I barely play at all, and what I do have to play I have to transcribe in my head. EW) and then I can relax for a while. ooo! Dance. April 22nd. I need songs. Anyone that reads this blog (and anyone that doesn't) needs to send me a list of songs they want played, and maybe any other suggestions. It's going to be in my culdisac, and it's going to be SO much fun. No bad music, no gross dancing, and plenty of fun people, and hopefully LOTS of boys. Even some from other schools. I'm so excited. Very pumped. So, any ideas, send them! And talk to all your friends about it (especially the guys) It's going to be the best ever. Really. Alright, well...I'm happy. I feel all bubbly inside. Good friends, good times, good gracious, I'm going to go. Have fun!

Analysis of My Future

Wow. I'm assuming an awful lot here. Meaning assuming I won't die or become horribly disfigured, paralyzed, terminally ill, or something else before my future comes along. Still, I have a pretty good feeling that's not going to happen. What do I want to do with my life? Or will I let it remain an unused resource, waiting to take form?

I wanted to be a writer. Since I was eight years old. I felt sure I was going to be a writer. I wrote short stories. Usually the focus was on humor, but I wrote and wrote.

I wanted to be an architect. I felt sure this was my calling. I love to draw, and I love to design. I love architecture, and the physics behind it. Since seventh grade I wanted to be an architect. I drew, and drew, designing and inventing, and studying physics and drafting so I would be ready.

I want to be a musician. Since I was sixteen I've wanted to be a musician. I love music. I feel right when I am making it. I feel like I am finally doing something beautiful, expressing the beauty inside me by letting something beautiful come out. I play and play. I take every chance I get to be part of music, to make it and to listen to others make theirs. Each of my former attempts at prediction have led me to this path.

I still write words, creating worlds, people, and emotion with the English language. But I really want to be a writer, composing the phrases and conversations and stories through music. The rests and downbeats the punctuation, and the use of color and tone to imitate the human voice and to tell a story. I love intertwining melodies, and I love to write parts that fit together, flowing together, but each saying the same thing in a totally different way.

I still draw. I still imagine and create buildings in my head. I still can calculate the physics behind thermodynamics, and metal tension, stone compression, and other things that make up the architect's world. I can draw a building with less than 1/16'' margin of error. But I want to be an architect, building the structure of a piece of music, putting up the frame of the chord progression, and the sheetrock of the phrasing, the roof of the melody, and the paint of the articulation and dynamics. I want to build a home to house emotion. I want the entire world to visit that home, and maybe to keep coming back.

I want to be a musician. I want my music to dance like Wilson, to glide like Michelle Kwan, and paint like Van Gogh. I want to do something beautiful. I want to say what I feel, and I can't say it with words half as well as I can say it through a ballad. I want to learn which intervals make people feel a certain way, and I want to manipulate my audience, and lead them through a vision, an image I will create. I want to be a musician.

Bad Mood

How often do I snap at people? Pretty much never. These past two days, though...SAD day (Singles' Awareness Day) is totally understandable for me, because I seem to define my success as a person on how much people include me in things. SAD day, I don't get roses, or balloons, or chocolates, or...ok, I really don't want a steady relationship, but it'd be really nice if all my guy friends didn't just talk about other girls around me. It's like I'm not even there, even when I'm their date! They're great guys, but in that respect it's a little disheartening. I see guys like a certain kind of girl, and even if I wanted to be like that, I couldn't change myself. I want to be myself, and be liked for it. I should be greatful for my AWESOME friends, because I have so many people who rescue me when I need it. I'm not feeling particularly grateful, though. It's not like I don't show any interest in those guys...anyway...Today was also bad. I mean, the whole deciding on a project thing, and then the confusion, the failing the outline, and then the rush to get it done, and then...staying up till 3am doing something that I won't have to present until next week. I just hate it when I do things like this. The worst part, though, is that I have to redo it because it's too long. And now, when I'm stressing over how to make this movie shorter, the one person that gets on my nerves wants to get in and do a presentation with us. Now, we have the same topic. But, he wanted to do his own project, he should do his own presentation. There won't be enough time. Even if I cut my movie in half, There will NOT be enough time to present the topic and both projects. Radish wants to be nice, though, and just can't say no to him, so of course he's up for the idea. It's just not going to work. Besides, I can't see myself working with that other boy. He drives me insane, and the only reason I have been fine with him in the past is because I never have to interact with him outside of that class. Maybe it's just right now. Maybe I'm just taking it all out on him because I don't want to take it out on Radish, and no one else has anything to do with it. So, even worse, when I'm mad, I snap at people, get depressed, and mess up on everything else! So, here I am stressed about one thing, and then that causes a million other things to go wrong, and suddenly people are getting me mad when I'd be perfectly fine with it any other day. I was so fed up with myself and with the situation that I skipped the first few minutes of Jazz Band and just cried. It felt really good. Then, Sanny came and made me feel a lot better. I should take a nap.

That's it!
I don't deserve him.
I don't know why I try.
I don't have any feature
To draw his reverred eye.

I'm done!
I don't deserve him.
I simply don't have the time
To sit, and think, and plan and dream
Of what never can be mine.

No more.
I don't deserve him.
To fire with all false hope
Yet my attempts to cleanse my heart are vain
Like washing with filthy soap.

-Eliza Woodhouse

There's no such thing as closure!
The memory clings on.
I see him in every picture,
Every poem, every song.
Even after all love fades,
Even after joy is gone,
The thoughts will ever linger;
The memory clings on.

-Eliza Woodhouse

Before giving anyone a piece of your mind, make sure you have enough of it to spare

So, today was pretty great. Stake conference was awesome, then we had a party for my wee sister. I had time to relax, and to NOT think about school and...other things. I even got to read for a little while, and have a mancala tournament with my brother. I wrote a song for Radish. I also had french toast for lunch. Isn't that great? yes. I got the pictures back from our pity party, which is awesome in itself! Oh yeah, I haven't blogged about that. Well, in trying to make everyone jealous because we had a party and all they got to do was go to silly sweethearts, we got carried away. We made dates out of cardboard. It was pretty much the funnest thing I've done all week. We even had pictures taken with them just like a real date dance. It was absolutely hilarious. Now I'm going to show all my friends the pictures the same day they get theirs, and I won't feel like such a loser :D Weeeell, I should get goin. I've got a wee bit more relaxing to do.

An Analysis of Varying Reactions

In taking the ACT, and seeing others take it the same day, I was reminded of how differently people respond to the exact same event.

Strawberry prepared using books, online tests, practice tests, friends, and probably other things. Before the test, she had difficulty relaxing enough to get to sleep. Kicky says she didn't study at all, and the day of the test she was calm and looked as if she felt prepared. Alissa studied a moderate amount, taking online tests and practice tests, but the day of the test she was frazzled, saying the tests hadn't prepared her as much as she had needed. I was in the middle. I studied a little with Strawberry, and a little on my own, but right before the test I felt illprepared. During the test, however, I was calm and had little to no stress about the entire situation.

Of course, our personalities caused us to prepare differently and to react differently. Our levels of preparation may have also had an effect, but overall, it was our attitudes.

This applies to almost every situation I can think of. Our personality and previous experiences help us to form our attitude. Our attitude forms our actions and our reactions. Of course, certain attitudes are preferable to others in certain situations, and it is possible to change our attitude.

An Unorganized Analysis of My Inability to Cope

How does life go like this?! The only possible answer I can come up with is that it's meant to be. It seems that everyone and her dog has an innate desire to torture me!! I'm trying to be good! I'm trying to not be jealous! But no!! What do I have to do?! I've done everything I can possibly think of, and I turn out just like every other girl in the school. Every girl I meet has a crush on him. I admit I'm exaggerating a little, but let me count. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11 that I can think of right on the spot. Why does this torture me? How could they possibly have any effect on me? Their shared "secrets", friendship, and better odds of winning all get under my skin in a way that I may not be able to describe.

These girls take me into their confidence. They tell me I'm their friend. Sometimes I don't want to be. They mostly just want someone to gush to. They go on and on about him, and how cute he is, and how he smiled at them, or what super nice thing he did for them today, how they felt so giggly, and how they're sure that he likes them in return. "Ooo I must be in love with him." Bah! Then they tell me about how their friend likes him too, and how they both are fighting over it. I sit there. I listen. I say things like "aw" and "how cute" and "congratulations". All the while I want to scream. I feel sick, and sometimes I do get physically sick. I think to myself "How dare you? How DARE you speak of him in such a manner? Your disrespect and taking for granted his admiration is sickening, your thoughtless words make him seem shallow, and how do you DARE to imagine yourself with such a person? He is of a caliber far greater than anything you could ever hope to achieve!" It hurts that I can't say anything. They would hate me for it. They would try to make it even more difficult for me than it already is.

For the girls who really are my friends, I give in to their pleas, and I help them. I help them to win him! And they cannot possibly understand how it consumes me, how it burns to the core. I am torn with indecision. Is it better to help my friend, or to save my sanity? They cannot catch me trying to win him. They would think me an unfaithful friend. So I keep quiet. I help them win him. Secretly, though, I still win. Because none of them ever have won him.

Eventually, however, I lose. The odds are good that I lose. 12 bidders (just in my range of knowledge alone). 1 item. I don't have much to offer. I lose. What I do have to offer, I give to my friends to bid. I lose. I lose him. I lose the game, I lose my sanity, I lose half of the reason, the purpose, and who can run on only half their mental and emotional capacities? I think of them, I ask them mentally what makes them so brash as to go for him. I think of myself, and want to dash myself against a wall for thinking myself halfway good enough to be that girl. There is a part of me, however, that thinks I AM good enough. That brings me to the most tortured citizen of my soul.

I am bitter. I am jealous. I could not win. It's all about me, and I gave up my everything to have him. I did for one moment. I had him. But despite my sacrifices, despite all my change of heart, my progress toward perfection, I am still imperfect because I lost him and I'm bitter. I don't deserve him because of the way I am without him. Anyone can be perfect in his presence. I wish I could find it within me to be worthy of him while he's away.

I hate to listen to their gushing. I hate to help them with their games. I hate to think of uncertain future. Must it always end the same? I am a pathetic teenager and I know it! I am immature, with melodrama coming out the lumbago, but I can't get myself to see reason! I can get myself to think "duh, once high school's over, that's it. He goes on his mission, and once he's back, at least one of us will have forgotten the other completely. That's the way this sort of thing always works." I believe it all. I know it all. But there's no getting my emotions to change. I cannot cope. I cannot adapt. Will I simply wallow in selfpity until there's nothing else of me left? I am not entirely sure I will be able to do anything else.

For Good

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you.

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew youI have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend.

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you

Because I knew you
I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share
And none of it seems to matter anymore

Like a comet pulled Like a ship blown
From orbit as it Off it's mooring
Passes a sun, like By a wind off the
A stream that meets Sea, like a seed
A boulder, half-way Dropped by a
Through the wood Bird in the wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
I do believe I have been changed for the better.
And because I knew you,
Because I knew you,
Because I knew you,
I have been changed FOR GOOD.

LIfe is weird

One jealousy traded for another. An enemy turned into a friend. People who say they get over someone, but we all know the truth. People who don't like who you think they would be most perfect for. Finding hope in the hopeless. Doing better than you expected, but not as well as is expected of you. Seeing through the blindness, and feeling your say out. Loving then hating then loving again. Wanting, not wanting, wanting again. Happiness crushed. Sadness chased away. Wondering if you just might be right. People knowing everything about you, but you know nothing about them. Having a hunch. Acting on it, and being right in one way, but totally messing up anyway. Never quite sure if you're doing the right thing. Never quite sure.

Wow, it's late, and I'm Analyzing

Being stupid. Why is it so much fun? I'm going to try to find out.

Breaking social norms. What could be more liberating? What can make you feel more unique than to do something that no one else does, even if you have to make a fool out of yourself? When you think out of the box, and do something so unexpeted, the reaction of other people brings a feeling of fresh independence and freedom. Rebellion is best when it's socially wrong but not legally wrong. Then, the only consequences are felt by those with low self-esteem (which are usually not the people doing the stupid stuff to begin with)

Laughing with friends. There is no better, more natural feeling. You are around people who accept you, and when you are being stupid, they are being stupid with you, and so you know they aren't just your friend because of your wild intelligence, ha. They are also being rebellious social outcasts with you, so you don't feel left out, but even more included. Besides, seeing the reaction on people's faces is HILARIOUS, or even if the reaction isn't all that great, we make fun of it until it is great. I love being stupid with my friends.

Taking a break from the world. It's a hard world. There are people with good intentions that hurt us sometimes. They are called parents and friends and physical trainers. Good thing they make us happy the rest of the time, and good thing we love them. There are also bad people. These people are trying to hurt us every day. They are called politicians, molestors, the media, and teachers. When you take a break, forget the bad people, and make fun of the good people (all in good fun, so no one gets hurt) it helps to alleviate the stress that was building up, and to give you a better outlook on the stress that's coming up.

Overall, being stupid is a good idea. Well...moderation in all things. Don't be stupid at important times. Don't be REALLY stupid. Don't be stupid too often. There we go.

Faults, and ways to overcome them

I'm not being self detrimental. I have faults like the rest of the human race, and by recognizing them I will be able to better combat them. These are the things I think I have the most trouble with.

Vain
Foolish
Judgemental
Dishonest (usually with myself, which is worst)
Thoughtless
Self-centered
Idle

Ok. I might add to this list later, but for now, this is plenty to start working on. I just hope my stupid weakness doesn't come back and make me go backwards instead of forward.

An Epic (sorta)

I gave without thought of return;
It sounds trite, though true.
Did I any deference earn?
I did, but not from you.

I was utterly selfless.
You took it all as naught.
I repulsed darts when you were helpless,
And all your battles faught.

You barely even mentioned
The perils that I faced:
The enemy castles bastioned,
The evil and abased.

You took my good and broke it
As the soft wing of a dove.
I am sorry that I spoke it,
Who can glory just in love?

You've taken my gifts and sold them,
Or left them on the shelf.
If I was ever bold then,
I'd have assaulted you myself.

Do I deserve to be ground in the dirt?
Left for the great black birds?
Did I cause you any hurt?
Give you any but soft loving words?

My pride has awakened
In all its blind rage.
I won't be forsaken,
Nor put in a cage!

You've played with a fire,
Though it was just coals,
You'll see what you acquire
From spurned good souls!

Your negligence kindling
Your mean words the bellows
Your protection is dwindling,
Don't look to your fellows!

They cannot protect you
As I have once done
You'll get just what is due,
And won't it be fun?

Wait, what is that?
A caring smile?
I'm engaged in combat!
Couldn't it wait just a while?

My anger is gone.
My love has returned.
Was I ever cheated?
Was I ever spurned?

I just can't remember,
All I see are your eyes,
I'll wait to dismember,
Put off the goodbyes.

-Eliza Woodhouse

An Analyis of Dreams, Goals, and Accomplishment

Glinda the Good said that "Happiness is what happens when all your dreams come true." What is a dream? How does that differ from a goal? Why would accomlishing them make one happy?


The first step to accomplishment is a dream. To dream is something so common, it may even surpass jeans in acceptance. Fantasies and wishful thinking take up about 60% of the average American's brain capacity, leaving less and less room for reality. Being so cosmopolitan, only an infintesimal amount of dreams are taken seriously, even by the dreamer. That means that an even smaller ratio of those fantasies and wishes are accomplished.

This brings us to the second step: a goal. Dreams must be transformed into goals using the magic elixir, commitment. When we bring those dreams into the light decide they would be worth while enough to use time and energy to accomplish them, they become goals. Unfortunately, goals include a colossal gamet of levels of commitment. To think that someday you are going to be an astronaut is a goal just as much as the goal to do 100 situps every night. The differences between dreams that turn into goals and goals that turn into accomplishment are a plan, action, and pereverance.

The finish line is finally reached, and the goal has turned into accomplishment. Usually, this event brings with it an added measure of confidence, a sense of pride in the accomplishment, and a desire to make other accomplishments to add to the collection. However, there are other times when the accomplishment brings the realization that the result did not match up to the expectations of the dream, or perhaps that the accomplishment was one that you should not have dreamed in the first place. Perhaps we must only remember to watch our dreams, that our accomplishments are what we really wanted.

I couldn't be happier
Though it is, I admit
The tiniest bit
Unlike I anticipated
But I couldn't be happier
Simply couldn't be happier
Well - not "simply":
'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of cost
A couple of things get lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still -
With this perfect finale
The cheers and ballyhoo
Who wouldn't be happier?
So I couldn't be happier
Because happy is what happens
When all your dreams come true
Well, isn't it?

This is my 100th post!

Yay!

I'm writing again! I had a HUGE gap in between, but I'm writing again, mostly because Radish inspired me with his birthday present. It was really cool, it was a wooden pen that he MADE. I felt special to get it. So I'm only on the 13th page, but that's ok, because I have nearly 6,000 words, and for me and my hectic schedule and scattered brain that's really saying something. What's even better is that Strawberry and Radish are me editors. Well, better keep going on it!

List of 40 kinds of sadness

The title before gave me an idea. In order to give myself something to do, and in order to fully prove my disgusting, hopelessness and obsession, I'm going to list those different kinds of sadness. Hopefully I'll be able to think of them all. Ready? These are all the feelings I have when he is not around, when he's off having his White Christmas, not making the least effort to contact me, despite how easy, how natural and right it would be...Things should be different.

1. Without purpose
2. Cheerless
3. Listless
4. Unhappy (obviously)
5. Forlorn
6. Forsaken
7. Dismal
8. Morose
9. Despondent
10. Lugubrious
11. Apologetic
12. Disconsolate
13. Doleful
14. Bereaved
15. Heartsick
16. Lonely
17. Depressed
18. Mournful
19. Indignant
20. Bitter
21. Tortured
22. Tender
23. Resentful
24. Stricken
25. Attritional
26. Tumultuous
27. Passionate
28. Prehensile
29. Crestfallen
30. Envious
31. Vain (I could explain why that was sadness)
32. Sadistic
33. Pensive
34. Importunate
35. Exhausted
36. Frustrated
37. Relinquished
38. Empty
39. Perplexed
40. Afraid

Yay! I did it! And I can even think of more, but I don't think I will extend this list any farther. Enjoy, because I'm going to go test out different contingencies of my future using my trusty simulator. Bye!

I feel 40 kinds of sadness when you're gone

Emma Woodhouse said, "I felt listless, and had a bit of a headache when he left, so I must be in love."

Boy, listless. I keep starting to do something productive, but then I don't finish because I start daydreaming again. Have I got it bad? ha. Is it obvious or what? Why do I feel lonely when surrounded by people almost 24/7? Why do I look forward to things solely for the fact that I hope someone special is going to be there? Aren't my friends more important? Don't they pay more attention to me anyway? Why can't I escape you when you're as far from me as possible for so long? You're everywhere!


And when you are here, I can't show the least bit of feeling, or you'll leave me alone again. What can I do so I'm not so afraid of losing you?

Shame on me, for wanting you

Maybe if I was beautiful, or more refined, or...just better. The only time I have low self-esteem is when I think of you not thinking of me. And you're not even here to convince me I'm wonderful anymore. Why isn't the irony in this whole situation as funny as it should be? Or maybe it's just time for some bitter laughter. Ready, ha ha

Ha