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LCH

LCH

Randomness in its true form--not unintelligible, just inconsistent.

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11.30.2001
 

I Strongly Dislike Tailgaters



This can seen with my Infallible Nose Test.

I used this test today. If that guy, who was tailgating me, had gotten any closer, I swear I could have seen what he had for breakfast and what color his underwear was. Okay, maybe that's a little extreme/stupid. And I brought this up last time. . .GET OFF OF MY BUTT. Because you will regret tailgating me.


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~Sigh~



Nothing quite like some Bush bashing. Heeheehee. Those are links to two different websites. The second one is the origin of the first. BTW, it's just a hoax. Don't take it seriously. Unless you want to. Then you can.


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This Is Cool



Me and Tpoh are in total agreement. I love rain too. It rained all day today.

Recently it cleared up, but it luckily also brought in some cooler weather. And besides, we have a football game tonight.

I remember this one scene that I saw when I was about in the second or third grade (that's eight or nine years old). We were having this huge thunderstorm in right in the middle of the school day. For some reason I happened to be in the office doing something.

The window/front door was in the office. If you look out the door, you see a long sidewalk extending straight from the door. There were little trees all around, and big ones across the street. There also were lamp posts.

When I looked outside, it was dark as heck outside. And I will have this image pasted in my mind forever probably. I looked out, and everything seemed so symetrical. Everything was lined up. It was pouring down rain and there was plenty of lightning. All the lamp posts' lights were on, and the trees were all shaking and waving like mad. I remember the leaves blowing across the path.

I remember thinking, "Wow. That's really cool."


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11.29.2001
 

The Wind Is Blowing



Now, if that's not a simple sentence, I don't know what is.

I Need To Get This Out



Sometimes, after turning something in English, I get mad at what she [my teacher] says about my stuff. Look, it's meant to be interpreted any way, I don't care how. If you think it doesn't make sense, it doesn't matter. Plenty of things don't make sense! I want it to sound like this. I don't want it to sound like anything else. That's how I want it to sound! Geez, damn it.

Listen, I like my teacher. She's a lot better than some. But sometimes, it's my own freaking thing. I want it to sound like this. I don't want to sound like something else. They are my words. And I don't want it to sound like just anything else. It's my interpretation. If you don't like it, tough.

And that just made no sense. Okay, rant over.

I just don't like people messing with my stuff.


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Well, Sometimes We Don't Know Everything



I was just thinking about how teenagers are sometimes accused of acting like know-it-alls. We think we know it all, just because we're teenagers. You know, since we're not little kids anymore. High Schoolers are especially bad for this kind of thinking. I may have even been guilty of it once or twice. . .a year. . .a month. . .a week. . .maybe a day.

Well, there are some things that we really don't know much about. And worse yet, some of these things we can't ask anyone else about because it could be a potentially embarassing subject.

This website is a good one for teens or just anyone in general. It explores sexuality and most everything that goes with it. I don't necessarily advocate having sex as a teenager. I wouldn't do it, but that's mostly because I believe in waiting until I'm married. But whether or not you have sex right now, everyone is almost always curious about something.


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There's Just Something About Cloudy Days



I swear, I think cloudy days make everyone go crazy. Especially in high school.

I was sitting there today in class thinking about how much I liked cloudy days. They are just so rare. I know that cloudy days happen, but around here, they never seem to happen on the weekdays.

At the same time, cloudy days are sort of creepy. If you've ever seen a setting sun go down behind some very dark clouds, then you might understand what I'm saying. The sky turns this weird color, and things just look freaky all over. To me, it sort of looks like the last days of the world that were described in The Last Battle in the Chronicles of Narnia.

Cloudy days make me feel sort of antsy or something. I feel like I want to sleep and run and jump up and down at the same time. This might just be me, but I don't know.

I know for a fact that it affects other people, because of what happened today at school. I swear that high school age people can sense a fight from halfway across the school. I think it's like a sixth sense or something.

Today, at lunch, we were sitting there just like always. Suddenly, half a dozen different people start yelling, and then about half the lunchroom got up and ran out. It was a fight, apparently. But what I heard from people afterwards, was that it was a fake fight or an almost fight. So obviously nothing happened. Whatever.

As a band student, I'm not allowed near fights. If our band director were to show up and spot us near a fight, it means certain doom. And I'm not being overly dramatic either. If we're near the fight (that is, watching it), we either get afterschool detention or a gig, or both. Bleah. So when the rest of the lunchroom started screaming and running, I just sat there like a good little band student. Okay, that's my excuse for staying. Other than that, I was just too lazy.

Heh.


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11.28.2001
 

A Planet That Might Be Able To Support Life?



Something about reading that just sort of made me depressed. Oh sure, it's wonderful to find out that these things might be possible. But what's the fun in it all if we're stuck here for all eternity? You know, as Earthlings (my that sounds funny), we're all rather helpless individuals. We're all trapped. Together. The only way out of all of this is death. Otherwise, we can move wherever we want to (most of us), but still be stuck here. It's like an island out at sea. We're shipwrecked and no one knows where we landed or if we're even alive. Across the ocean, we sometimes see other little islands, but we don't have any materials to make any substantial boats out of. Sure, we can get into some lifeboats/rafts and float around on the very edges of our island, but if we ever try to go farther out, we sink.

I remember reading out they might do a voyage to Mars. A manned voyage. One of the many problems would be the problem with asteroids. As they said in the Apollo 13 movie, some layers are no thicker than aluminum foil. (I think that's what they said). So if they run into any asteroids, they're all dead. So our raft springs a link in the middle of the ocean, we're dead.

We're stuck here, and there's no way to get to the other side of the ocean. Except in books and dreams and TV shows and movies. And it's all fake. It's an illusion. Sooner or later, we all have to face reality. We have to face reality and realize, that this is all we've got. This is all there is. This is all we can reach.


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The Problem With Schools. . .



. . . is that they don't teach you to think. They teach you all kinds of meaningless stuff and perhaps some meaningful stuff. But the overall problem is, they don't teach you to think. Neither do they let you think on your own if you already know how.

They teach you to figure out how other people think, but they don't help you to figure out how to think. I'm not saying that they need to tell us what to think. (They do that to a point anyway). I think we just need to sit back for a moment once in a while and say, "Well what's it to me?" That may be a bit crude, but you get the point.

You figure out how and why everyone else thought. Hobbes, Locke, Darwin etc. Well why did they think like that? Well, they agreed with these ideas brought forth by Mr. X and Y and Z. They themselves said this. They said that. Etc. I'm not saying that those things aren't important. But shouldn't it matter to consider whether or not I agree with Mr. X, Y and Z? And why would I agree with that? And why would I want to?

Just the other day in class, we were talking about something. What happened next, I honestly swear had not happened but a few times or less. Someone asked me what I thought of this particular subject. I said what I thought of it. Then they asked me why.

-Them: "Why do you think that?"

-Me: "Huh? Why do I think that? Well, um, um. . ."


I was totally caught off-guard. I was flabbergasted. I was dumbfounded. I had absolutely no idea what to say. Then I started thinking. Well, why do I feel like that?

According to me. Not according to Mr. X or Locke or whoever. Just me. It was an eye opening experience. Maybe it's a normal thing that happens to everyone, everywhere else. Maybe it's not. I don't know.


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11.27.2001
 

Paranoia is a Selfish Thing



In that it is something only you yourself can see. It is all about you. Plus, you cannot dare speak of it to another human being, for they will look upon it as a trivial, selfish thing. And it might be. But when you're mired in the depths of it, it's not so trivial.

I have the occasional bouts of paranoia. I used to have it more often, but apparently I had grown more sure of myself and my standing in the world. But maybe the lack of sleep or the coming changes in my life have altered that understanding of where I am. So much for the thoughts that no one is thinking about me; much less that they are laughing at me behind closed doors.

It does not matter. Especially when discussing with others your failed and hopeless perceivings of the world around you. I tried discussing my thoughts with my mother earlier this evening. She said that I must have been to blame and that it was not a very big deal anyway. She said not to worry and just to go on.

But when those people keeping looking at me and talking, I can't help but wonder what they are saying. Perhaps they really are laughing at me. Perhaps they did something to me like stick a "Kick Me" sign on my back, or something just as infantile. I do not know. But when they look at me as they have today and days past, I cannot help but wonder. What is it that they look at? And what have they done? But most of all, what have I done to deserve their piercing glares into my backside?


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Oh Yeah, I Almost Forgot



Yesterday, where I live, we had a record high. I think the last record was set in 1946 or something. It was at 74 degrees (F). We hit 75. Needless to say, it was a little warm. And to think, it was snowing at this time last year. In fact, I got out of the Shelby parade that way last year. It snowed.

Star Trek Sort Of Thing



It's not a great link. I thought that they would do more with it. But it's pretty good. You can come up with different Star Trek plots. I've got an old Star Wars booklet like that. It's called "The Empire Strikes Back: Mix or Match Storybook." It's pretty fun.

It's divided into six sections. You can just read it like it is, or you can move one or two or more of the sections and change the story.

For example, the first level reads:


  1. Luke Skywalker
  2. was riding on a Tauntaun
  3. on the icy plains of Hoth
  4. when a probot floated by
  5. and then disappeared into space
  6. where the Imperials were preparing to attack


So that's the first page.

The first section is always a person:


  1. Luke Skywalker
  2. Artoo-Detoo
  3. Darth Vader
  4. Yoda
  5. See-Threepio
  6. Chewbacca
  7. Han Solo
  8. Boba Fett


And all the rest of the things are all in their own little sections. They all follow a pattern, for each level/page:


  1. People
  2. doing something
  3. somewhere
  4. when something else comes by
  5. and does something
  6. where something or someone was doing something


Fun, huh?

I like it. Technically, this book probably belongs to one of my brothers. Oh well. Hee, hee, hee.

An example of how you could make one story play out is:


  1. Luke Skywalker
  2. was hiding behind a rock
  3. on the Rebel base
  4. when a slimy creature showed up
  5. and directed him through the desert
  6. where a banquet was being held


Like I said, it's a cool book.


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Some People Are Extremely Odd



There's this guy who is going to cut off his feet live on webcam on the 30th of November. Not only that, but he's using a homemade guillotine. Ew.

He's says that he's doing it for charity. He's partly paralyzed from the waist down. The website also states that he can't feel anything below his ankles.

Even if it is for a good cause, ew. Just, ew. That makes me think of the Stephen King book, Misery.

I don't know why, but that just pains me. Wait! I do know why. It's his freaking feet!


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11.26.2001
 

And Yet Another Thing That I Can Add To My File



My file of "Bad Gov't Reactions to Sept. 11."

"If a trained police officer doesn't know the difference between political speech and a threat to the president, then we're all in trouble," Charns says.


Just taking things too seriously.

But you can make your own judgement. The Secret Service investigating a nineteen-year old girl because she had (supposedly) an anti-American poster on her wall? The poster "depicts George W. Bush holding a length of rope against a backdrop of lynching victims, and reads: "We hang on your every word. George Bush: Wanted, 152 Dead"--a reference to the number of people executed by the state of Texas while Bush was governor."

I think they just went a little overboard with that one. If they get peeved over that, what about political cartoons? What about that website that I have listed under Funny Website(s)? Bush being compared to a monkey. That's funny, but not anti-american. So I don't necessarily always like Bush. So what?

Even If You Don't Think That's Bad. . .



Check this out.

Don't move to the UK if you plan on having kids. Sheesh. They're talking about registering little kids with the police if they show any chance that they might later turn to a life of crime. Behaviors that might signify bad behavior later include:

Children involved in cheekiness, minor vandalism and causing nuisances, will be targeted under the scheme.


And:

Their progress will then be monitored at school and on the streets by special squads of police officers and social workers, even though the children have not committed a crime and will not have been warned that they are being watched


Sure, plenty of kids are like that in the beginning. But most of them mellow out. And even if they don't, that doesn't mean that they'll go into a life of crime. Besides, isn't it usually the quiet ones that lose it? (like me? j/k) But a good many of them turn out good in the end.

Why don't they just target parents that tend to spoil their children or something like that? Plenty of kids can turn out bad because their parents don't pay any attention to them. Or else because their parents are too lax with them. Jeez.

But if you want to make your own assumptions, you can read this article. "The Childhood Psychopath: Bad Seed or Bad Parents?"


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11.24.2001
 

Most Of You Have Already Heard This Story



But I felt like talking about it anyway. Apparently, Franklin Graham is stupider than Bush. And maybe Bush isn't that stupid. Ooo, I can't believe I just said that.

But seriously, "The God of Islam is not the same God. He’s not the son of God of the Christian or Judeo-Christian faith. It’s a different God, and I believe it is a very evil and wicked religion.”

How stupid can he be? To say something like that? I mean, good grief man! Are you nuts? Are you totally out of touch with reality?

I could see this coming back to bite us in the butt later on. I can just imagine a scene where we really need to talk to the Muslims about something. And they bring up this thing that happened back in 2001 with Franklin Graham, about how he wouldn't even take time out of his schedule to talk to them. So why should they talk to us? I could see that happening.

The stupid moron. Hellooooooo! We're at war with a country that is mostly or all Muslim. We're trying to get away from the idea that this is a war against Islam. I can't really see it being a war against terrorism, but I do agree that it is a war against Afghanistan. And I don't necessarily agree about that being the right thing to do either, but that's a discussion best left for another time.

The point is, we're trying to make sure it doesn't come across as a war against Islam. And the stupid idiot starts spouting off about how evil Islam and its followers are! Geez.

Everyone, just watch what you're saying and whom you are saying it to!


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I Really Don't Know How To Describe Myself



When I think of the term, "loose cannon", I really don't think of myself. I think of some individual who just shot someone after robbing them and now is leading a statewide police chase.

Of course, if I can't somehow get my temper under control, that could be me.

I'm a normally placid type. I don't let many things faze me, and if they do, I don't let it show.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I lose it. I don't know what sets it off really. Normal, everyday stuff will just suddenly spiral into a new light. And everything just turns into something else, and suddenly I can't control myself. It is day to day stuff.

Seriously, like someone not telling me something or acting like they always do towards me. But sometimes, I'll just see it in an entirely different light and I'll just completely lose it. And I can't stop myself, until I run out of steam or come back to my senses. And while I'm in this funk, I lose all touch with the outer world.

This rather bothers me. You know, knowing that you don't have as much control over yourself as you'd like to think. I've tried talking to some people before about this, and they said that I should show my emotions more often. But how?


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I Have This File



I have this file on my computer. It's actually a sub-file, I think. The name of the file that is under is called "Blogging Help." It's just basically anything that I want to be associated with blog stuff.

I have 16 of these sub-files (I think that's what they are called). Here are a few of them:


  1. AIDs Day Dec 1
  2. Backwash
  3. Bad Gov't Reactions to Sept. 11th
  4. Cool links
  5. Good Blogs
  6. Good news articles
  7. Sept. 11th stuff for blog
  8. Specific onsite blog stuff


You know, stuff like that.

Well, under #3, is a whole new field. I just created that folder a week or two ago. I never had a need for one before.


  1. Free Speech R.I.P.
  2. In A Time Of Terror, Protest Is Patriotism
  3. Africa: US Shuts Down Somalia Internet
  4. High School Speech by Peace Prof Raises Ire
  5. Police State
  6. Rising Fears That What We Do Know, Can Hurt Us


Cheerful stuff, yeah I know.


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11.23.2001
 

About Me



Or some such crap. The "About Me" titles/articles are everywhere. Perhaps I don't want to focus on my life when I'm on here. I sit here in the same clothes that I was wearing yesterday. I sit here with hair that extends about two inches down my back. I see here, ironically eating No Man's Land beef jerky. Good stuff too.

I drink water. That's the only thing I drink. I can't stand the taste of wine or beer, although champagne is not half bad. The only things that I'm worrying about right now are whether or not it will rain today, and when will the family get home from shopping today.

I like listening to 80's pop. I like being home alone, where it doesn't matter how I look or what I do. I'm the only one around to hear or see it. It doesn't matter if I talk to myself or dance around or sing or act like a complete fool. And yet I fancy myself an intellectual. And for what? I use the word "And" too much, along with "So" and "But".

I like to read in bed, when everyone thinks I'm asleep. I like to daydream of being in far off places, with far off friends and far off identities. I like to dream that some of those people I know in everyday life are there as well, but that they have far off roles as well.

I like to think too much, about things that don't matter that much, and won't matter ten years from now or even a week. I don't know too much about grammar, except that which I've just picked over the past few years.

I like rain on Mondays and Saturdays. I don't like it to rain on Fridays, because that sends whole new worry about things into my mind. I don't like parades. I like band. I even like marching band, but not parades.

I can't [trust] understand people who won't let me go to the bathroom on long trips more than twice. *COUGHPAULCOUGH*

I like to watch movies and envision myself as a hero that comes by saves the whole lot of them. I don't like reality that much, except for nature. I like the outdoors, because there aren't any other distractions. I like music, because with it, I will always have a family somewhere.

I like interesting people, who make me think and don't let up.

I like thinking about weird things that happen when I'm rambling:

  1. Gone but not forgotten, but what about forgotten but not gone?
  2. There are two sides to all of us. The dark and the light.
  3. Which side is the true and which is the fake?
  4. Which side is the one we reveal to the world, while carefully guarding the other from ever being found out?
  5. There is ying and yang, male and female, light and dark. Hope and failure. Death and life. Helplessness and control.
  6. The world is opposites, all of it.
  7. People want to help. They try. They do the wrong things, they make things worse. As it always has been.
  8. The darkness supercedes the light. The shadow takes over and the light recedes. Which is the real and which is the fake? And which is the soul and which is the death? And what was the question, you couldn't remember to save your life? But the important things are all too accessible, but no one will listen?
  9. Friends are enemies and enemies are friends. And as Dick Tracy said, "The enemy of my enemy is my enemy."
  10. I feel like Two Face sometimes. Black and White. The gray exists, but isn't shown. We laugh at the pain of others. We cry alone at our own grievances.
  11. Pain exists and comfort resides in all, but where nothing is left, our futures loom.
  12. Droughts occur and other places flood. No happy medium.
  13. We look to the past for answers for our future, remembering our present. We lose our present to the future and try to live in the past. And we forget our past, and our present, all for our future. And we lose our future, because we forgot our past and now we don't understand our present. And the cycle continues. Ending, but lasting. Growing, but not continuing. Living, but not lasting.
  14. And on, and on, and on.


It's just a basic spewing of thoughts and ideals and worlds. Or maybe it's just the lack of oxygen to my brain.


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America's Open Wound



Or would that be "Open, Bleeding Wound?"

Thanks to Geekemglory for the link: from the National Post, we find that the city officials are worried about Typhus, because of all of the rats who are there at Ground Zero. Human remains eating rats. Ew. And, there won't be a New Year's Eve celebration at Times Square because of security worries.

I don't know about you, but this reminds me of a book I read a year or so ago. Batman: No Man's Land. I don't feel like explaining it right now. Besides, there is an summary of the storyline on the page.

It's just that, in New York, it's called Ground Zero. With Gotham, it was No Man's Land. I don't see that much of a difference.


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Humans Were Not Born With Morals



We acquire morals through our lives, through our experiences with the outside world. All that we were born with was our instinct to survive, no matter what. These thoughts were reaffirmed through this experiment that was done in the summer of 1971. It was done at Stanford University.

It was a simulated prison. The psychologists at Stanford University had put an ad in the paper for volunteers willing to be part of an experiment. The volunteers were put through psychological tests and background tests to make sure that they didn't have any histories of drug abuse or bullying or things like that. Out of the original seventy or so, they ended up with twenty-four volunteers.

They flipped a coin or something, and half of those men became guards and half became prisoners. The experiment was originally intended to last two weeks, but they had to end it early because things were spiraling out of control.

The prisoners became prisoners. They got fully into their role. They ceased feeling like human beings, but like objects. A few of them broke down crying even, towards the end.

And the guards got completely into their rolls as well. Some inner thing, I think, was let out into the open for the first time. Everyone has their careful mask of civilization always on. But I think that without the regular outside stimulants, everything was lost. Everyone's mask was taken off and things reverted back to a Hobbesian way of life. BTW, as far as I know, Thomas Hobbes is no relation of mine. Although, anything is possible.

Look at what they had to sign. I think you'd have to be at least a little crazy to want to do this anyway. They only got $15 a day for this experiment, and most just wanted to leave instead of keeping the money.


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11.22.2001
 

On A More Upbeat Level. . .



What am I thankful for? Earlier today, my grandma asked me the same question. I answered, half-jokingly that I was thankful for socks. And I guess that's true on a certain level, that I am thankful for socks. I mean, what would life be like without socks?

Of course, on a more serious level, I guess I just said that to evade the question. It's more of a personal thing for me. Not just some thing I can shout from all the roof tops for everyone to hear (although I suppose that's what I am doing now).

I am thankful for being allowed to be who am I. I am thankful that I am about to go off to college next year. I am thankful that my family is safe, and that some of them are nearby. I am thankful that I am a Christian. I am thankful for my brain, for my heart and for my soul. And I am thankful for my friends. Online and in real life.

So, thank you everyone. Thank you that you read this, whether or not you agree with me or not. Thanks for being around.


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They Got Here At 1



And it's 7 pm now. They are still here. Talking. That's fine. It just means that we get to put off cleaning up until later. Procrastinating in its finest form. Yee-hah.

Oh No



I found this just now, while look through Backwash. This is bad. This really is bad. It's worse than I thought.

You know the show, The X-Files? Back before it got kind of crappy, when Mulder and Scully were still around, it was just good old science-fiction. And that's what I like. Science-FICTION. The government's out to get us folks, and this time it's for real.

So what if the Taliban surrender? The news says that they are within days or weeks of surrendering. Or maybe they already have. But will it end there? Will this new "domestic terrorism" end there? Or was this just an opening for our government to turn against the people it's supposed to be protecting?

You feel like you're safe. Safe at home, surrounded by your friends, your family, your neighbors. Maybe we're not so safe any more. Maybe on the outside, everything is all right. They show you the stuff that they want to show you on T.V.. But they leave out the important stuff. Stuff like the USA PATRIOT Act. Or as the author of Tpoh says, the "Piss on the Constitution Act." To hell with our rights. To hell with our past. To hell with it all. It's lost. All lost. I used to be just depressed about my life and things like that. But ever since Sept. 11th, it hasn't been about any of us. Fear is the end our great country. And Revenge is its result. Evil has triumphed once again. And I fear that it is a lasting triumph.

We all had to grow up really fast two months and eleven days ago. I guess some people couldn't handle it.

And maybe I am making too big a deal out of this. Maybe. But it's what I believe in. On a personal level, I've always believed in the right to choose a different path from the world around you. And when others question that path or try to intervene, it makes me mad.



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11.21.2001
 

Just A Note



Since it is Thanksgiving, we have family here. And they are staying in the room that the computer is in. So I probably won't be able to post very often over the next week or so. But keep checking in, because I might be able to steal a moment or two away from everyone to check in and say hi. Oh, the horror of having to make conversation!


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In Fayetteville, North Carolina. . .



. . .sort of close to where I live, is a street with a really bad name.

I mean, "Anthrax Street"? Eh. No wonder they're trying to change the name.


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There We Go



Someone who is actually thinking and not ranting. I like it.

A speaker at a high school, spoke about how the deaths of those thousands in New York had affected all of us severely. But yet, the deaths of thousands of children and other innocents in Afghanistan made no impact on us at all.

He was ridiculed for talking to high schoolers, because supposedly they don't know any better to form their own opinions. Speaking as a high schooler, I think that we might be a little impressionable. But if we don't figure out what we agree with now and what we don't agree with, we will be bent whatever way the leading majority wants. No question to whether it be right or wrong. I think it's good to show people both sides of an issue. And personally, a lot of high schoolers are not as stupid as the rest of the world thinks.

I agree with their school paper, which reads as follows:

``In a war situation there is always an attempt to suppress free speech,'' the school paper quoted Zinn. ``People who disagree with the war are looked at as unpatriotic, but in a democracy you must think for yourself about what is right and wrong and speak your mind.''





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11.20.2001
 
Pic Of The Day

What is that turkey doing to ol' Georgie?



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School. . .Blah



I thought I might take this time and mention some school stuff. Blah.

Okay, that's it.

Just kidding.

This was the last day of school for the week. We're off Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. That's fine. I'm really happy with that.

I got my report card yesterday. I had 3 A's, one B and one C. The C was one point away from being a B, so it's not so bad. It was also in Calculus, so that's actually pretty good.

It was sort of interesting. A friend of mine got a C as well, but his C and my C are different. On his report card, the teacher had written in that he was capable of doing better work. On my report card, he wrote that I showed interest and desire to work. So, hah.

My three A's were in Latin, Band and English. The B was in European History Honors.

Onwards



The author of Scriblings, a website that I have been visiting recently, is very nice. So go drop by her page. :)


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11.19.2001
 

This Is Increasingly Worrisome



You hear about this? The government is pulling information from libraries across the country. Information that they believe could possibly be damaging to us. Information that could reveal our vulnerabilities. Supposedly.

I don't know, but maybe "1984" was about 17 years off.

I mean, I could see how some information could lead to terrorist actions. But as I see it, they can get that information other ways. Destroying public records doesn't hurt the terrorists any. It hurts the people that they are supposedly trying to save. It puts more fear in our lives. It almost puts restrictions on what we are allowed to produce. What's next, Thought Police?

Here's another such instance. The introduction of the "Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism Act" (USA PATRIOT Act)

It's an act that wasn't even available for viewing before it had to be voted on.

This act gets rid of some of our basic liberties that were given to us early on. It gets rid of the need of a warrant and notification to the person to search property. As it says in the article:

The Fourth Amendment states: "The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated; and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized."


They're breaking the 4th Amendment. They've broken the 4th Amendment. To heck with that, right?

And also, from the article:

Under the USA PATRIOT Act in this country, Section 802 defines domestic terrorism as engaging in "activity that involves acts dangerous to human life that violate the laws of the United States or any state and appear to be intended: (i) to intimidate or coerce a civilian population; (ii) to influence the policy of a government by intimidation or coercion; or (iii) to affect the conduct of a government by mass destruction, assassination or kidnapping."


(i): As I see it, that's what the government is doing to us. That's wrong. That's just wrong.

(iii): And in the third one, "mass destruction", makes me think of something else. I'd say those sweeping destructions of public information is an infringement on how this country was supposed to run. Infringement on the government, my foot.

Say goodbye to your freedoms, friends. And say goodbye to any lasting skeleton of a world we once knew. We all start turning against ourselves, everywhere and everyday, we're no better than rats in a sinking ship.


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I'm Sorry I Didn't Write Anything Yesterday



I meant to, honest. Except for the fact that I had the first of three horrible parades yesterday.

We had to be there at 2:30 pm. The parade didn't start until 3. We were unit #86. It was 70 degrees (F) out there. Need I say more?

Bleah. My mom said that I looked like I was about pass out. Personally, I was more of the opinion that I felt like I was going to pass out and throw up at the same time. That would have been bad. Especially since that is a potentially fatal combination. We didn't get done with the parade until about 4:20 pm. Mr. Hendrick (my band director), said that the parade next week is longer than this one. For some reason, I guess my memory's hazy, but I remember yesterday's parade as being longer than the one due next week. Oh well.


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11.17.2001
 

Harry Potter Movie



To say that I hated it would be too strong a sentence. The Quidditch scene was good. That's about it.

These would be classified as spoilers, so watch it.

Highlight to read:

I think that they left out about half of the book. The half that they left in was mostly wrong. They put things in the wrong places and had the wrong people saying the wrong things. It was rather annoying.

For example, the scene with Norbert was totally screwed up. Ron never got bit by Norbert, so he was with Hermione and Harry when they got caught. And they got caught talking about Norbert while walking down the hall late at night. But I'm not sure if they were actually caught out of bed, it wasn't very clear. As a result of that, everyone knows about Norbert. Also, Ron has to go to the Forbidden Forest for punishment instead of Neville. Neville never got the leg lock from Draco either.

Anyway, the scene in the forest was screwed up too. Filch knew about Norbert, because of the entire screw-up of the story. And Ron went to the forest, like I said. Also, Hagrid immediately paired Harry up with Malfoy.

Just a couple of more complaints. At the end, when Quirrel touched Harry, his hand was supposed to be burned. But instead everytime he touches Harry, it turns to stone. Then he just falls apart literally and it's over. Except when the spirit of Voldemort comes out of his body and goes through Harry, therefore knocking him out? And that's how he ends up unconscious.

Also, the hospital scene was totally wacky. They left out him talking to Ron and Hermione while in his hospital bed. They also left out Hagrid giving him the book with all of the pictures of his parents in it. They put that in later though. They put that in at the end right before he got on the train. But Hagrid doesn't do any explaining about it. Overall, Hagrid had a much more insignificant part. At least in my opinion.

Also, Harry didn't meet Malfoy in the robes shop. And the conversation with Malfoy about who Harry should make friends with doesn't take place on the train, but at the school.

Basically, most of it pissed me off, and I almost wished I hadn't gone and seen it. Although, the Quidditch scene was cool.


~sigh~



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Harry Potter



I've liked the Harry Potter books since the tenth grade (when I was about 15). That's when a friend of mine introduced them to me by lending me his book of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, (or the Philosopher's Stone as it is known in the UK).

I liked the book from the very beginning. It enthralled me and made my imagination awaken from the teenager slump it had been in.

I remember when the fourth book came out. We ordered it from Amazon so that it would get to my house as soon as possible. I got it at 9 am that morning. I told mom not to bug me that day while I read it. I finished it at 6 pm that evening. It's over 700 pages long. I can't wait until the fifth book comes out.

This morning, my mom and I went over to the movie theater. They were preselling the movie tickets for today. They were due to start selling at 11:30 am. We got there at 11:05. There were already about 12 or 13 people in line. By the time they started selling tickets, there were about 75 people behind us.

So we're going to go see the Harry Potter movie this afternoon. We're going to the showing at 3:45. We're leaving the house about 2:50, and we only live 15 minutes away.

What can I say? I think, other than football games of course, that this is the biggest thing in town.


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11.16.2001
 

My Explanations



My explanations of the people that I admire are not done yet. I'm going to finish the list tomorrow.


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People That I Admire



I might add that these are the that I strongly admire. I like a whole lot of other people. These are just some very important ones in my life right now.


  1. Mom
  2. Grandmother Hobbs
  3. Nathan and Kevin
  4. Maggie and Kim
  5. Dad
  6. Mr. Hendrick
  7. Coach Brown
  8. Neal
  9. Clifton and Kristi
  10. Mr. Greene
  11. Mrs. Quattlebaum
  12. Mr. Short



Long list of people. I know. But don't worry, I'm going to explain all of them.

1. Mom


Well, Mom is Mom. I've known her ever since I was born, I guess. She gave birth to me when she was 36 years old. That's pretty amazing in itself actually.

No matter what we go through, my Mom and I always have a pretty good relationship. She understands stuff that I don't give her credit for. What I mean to say is, she's pretty cool. We relate pretty good. And up to this year, we haven't had that many arguments. Not to say that this year we've had an amazing amount of arguments. We've just been a bit tenser and grouchier. Personally, I think it's because I'm going off to college next year, and she's have pre-withdrawal symptoms or something. Heh.

I admire her because she's understanding. Because she listens to me, even when I won't listen to her. Sometimes we're more like sisters, than mother and daughter. She's a great cook, a great writer, a great person and a great mother. So I salute you Mom. You're the best. You're #1.

2. Grandmother Hobbs


Grandmother Hobbs is a very close second. She's my father's mother and I love her more than I can say. I call her Grandma. We have a bond that involves a lot of laughing and a game called Chinese Checkers. We get that game out and we play and we talk and we laugh. I only see her about once or twice a year, but I try to make those times count.

She recently went through a major ordeal of colon cancer. I was having everyone I know praying for her. Luckily, she got through that and there doesn't seem to be any cancer still poking its nasty head up. And if there was, she could get through it, I know.

My Dad says that he saw her recently and she is looking good. He said she's put on weight and that her rosy color is back. That's really wonderful. I'm not ready to lose anyone that close to me yet.

I admire her because she is a great person. I admire her because she is an awesome person. She's has a strong will, a wonderful sense of humor and gives great hugs. She always happens to be a marvelous cook who will give me whatever snacks or meals my heart desires. She's the greatest.

3. Nathan


Nathan is my second oldest brother. He is 26 and going to law school. He lives in Minnesota with his wife, Maggie and a sweet, little dog named Relffits. That's Stiffler backwards, Maggie's maiden name.

Nathan is one of the best two big brothers in the world. Trust me. Sure, they all have their ups and downs, who doesn't? Nathan does Hobbsblog, which you can find on my left side of my page, under "Blogs."

Nathan is . . .Nathan. Nathan, or Natie as I call him, is nine years older than I am. When I was twelve, he was twenty-one. Pretty big age gap, but not too bad.

I remember when I was a kid. He would get me to clean out under his bed with the bribe that I could keep anything cool that I found. He'd play with me with legos. Legos are cool.

Nathan is the really smart one. He knows all the trivia. He understand politics. He understands our legal system. I understand most of that stuff, kind of. But he understands everything. And he's always willing to share his knowledge with me.

I admire him because he's sort of the person that I want to be. Sort of. He's smart, funny, has a lot of friends. . . he knows where he's going, he knows who he is. So, he's cool.

3. Kevin


Kevin is my big brother. He's 28, soon to be 29 this Tuesday. He's eleven years older than me. I'm 17. I'll be 18 in April.

He lives in Oklahoma with his wife Kim.

He goes to OU, that's Oklahoma University for anyone who doesn't know. He's studying to be a Physicist. He's really, really, really, really smart. Especially in math and science. He's also an artist.

As he told mom and me. . .If work ever gets too hard in the lab, we just turn to each other and say, "Well after all, it is Rocket Science."

Kevin is cool because he's smart in all of those things that I am not smart in. He makes things like 100 averages in Calculus and gross stuff like that. (No offense to you Kevin!) Heck, if you're good at it, you're good at it. He's also a musician. He can fix cars. He's good with his hands. And as soon as he gets out of college, whomever hires him will surely love him and appreciate him as much as we do.

I admire you big bro.

4. Maggie


Maggie is a very smart person who makes a cool sister-in-law, and is a perfect match for my brother Nathan.

She's a cool sister-in-law in that she thinks I'm cool. She treats me like I'm a cool person. Emphasis on person. Not just annoying little sister, but person. Three cheers for Maggie.

She works for the Minnesota Wild, a professional hockey team. Another plus. I like hockey, yes hockey is cool. And my sister-in-law has something to do with the wonderful world of hockey. Yay.

She's smart. She and my brother were debate partners.

She's like the older sister that I never had. She's a good person to talk to about things like boys and brothers and stuff.

I admire her because she's neat and really nice. And I'm glad (and proud) to say that I know her.

4. Kim


Kim is cool too. She is Vietnamese. She's an awesome pianist. She's like the next Mozart or something, I swear.

She's sort of little but bursting with energy. She must have a really high metabolism or something, because she eats a whole lot, but stays really skinny.

I admire her as a person, as an individual. I admire her as a musician. And I admire her because she is really nice and one of the greatest sister-in-laws that I have ever had.

5. Dad


Dad is cool. He gave me a car. It's a nice car. I love it.

My Dad calls me everyday, rain or shine. Not that that matters particularly. But he calls me every evening to say hi and tell me that he loves me.

I admire him because he's nice. I admire him because he loves me and he buys me cool stuff.

6. Mr. Hendrick


Mr. Hendrick is an extremely complicated individual. If he could get away with it, he would have us all believe that he is a simple-minded old man, who is stupid as dirt and completely unaware of the world around him.

For one thing, he's not old. He says he is, but he's not. He's only 55. In my book, that's not old.

Oh and I might mention that he is my long standing band director. He has taught me to play the french horn over the past nearly 6 years. I started with him when I was 12 (in the 7th grade).

He is aware of things going on around him. Perhaps not on a technological standpoint though. He doesn't understand how to the work the internet or e-mail or things like that. But there are lots of people that don't know that either.

I think that he thinks a lot. He came up with a "Rate a Fall" test.

Here it is:


  1. How long did it take for your feet to leave the ground and your rear end to hit the ground?
  2. How many people saw you?
  3. How long did they laugh?
  4. How many cuss words did you say?
  5. Which direction did you end up?
  6. Injuries?
  7. How long did it take you to get up?
  8. How spectacular was it?


Then you’d figure it up and come up with your score.

I admire him because he is more than he seems. I admire him because he is the funniest man on earth.

For example, the other day it was raining, so he was trying to get out of the rain as fast as possible. As he told it to us, he jumped and slipped on a puddle or something. He hit the ground on his knees and his arms and his hands. He landed in a puddle and a muddy one at that. Then while he was telling us the story, he walked over to the trashcan and pulled out his shirt that he had been wearing. It was muddy, wet and a big rip through it. Only Mr. Hendrick. He figured that would have been about a 7 on his Fall Scale.

He has a prevailing all for one, one for all sort of attitude. If one person in band is allowed to do something, then we all should. We're all equals. He doesn't value one of us higher than the other.

A couple of years ago, he was yelling at us during band camp when suddenly, he swallowed a fly. He started hacking. It was kind of funny. He was okay though.

Whenever he gets mad at us (oh say, once a day), he usually ends up throwing something, falling off of something, kicking something, or all three at once. See, he's sort of . . . oh say, round. He's only about 5'8", and he is kind of big. He says that he is fat, but I argued with him and told him that he just plump. Or as he says, "pleasantly plump." Why am I telling you this? Well, it makes it funnier when he's falling off of something.

Lately, he has been really mad at the trumpets. Last year, our first trumpet tested and only made about 2nd or 3rd chair. So the whole bunch of them dropped out. Most of them graduated anyway, but there were a few that aren't old enough to. But they dropped out too. So we have some really dedicated, bad sounding trumpets. Okay, they don't all sound bad. I just don't think that any of them ever practice. Or else, maybe they just don't have any confidence in themselves. Because if they do play, you can barely hear them.

So Mr. Hendrick will be yelling and he'll fall off of his chair stand. Actually, he'll usually trip and almost fall over. Or else he'll throw his baton. Once it landed in the trashcan. Or the blinds. On this past Thursday, he kicked over his stool and called a code 7. Code 7's are bad. They make me nervous. If you talk, make any sound or he even thinks you might be thinking about talking, he gives you a gig. IF you get two gigs, you're out of extra-curricular band.

Then he also will throw down his glasses- on his stand, across the room, on the floor, up in the air. . ., no wonder he buys the cheap ones at the drug store.

He also doesn't get enough sleep. He can fall asleep as quick as anything. It's actually quite scary.

But that's not why I admire him. I admire him because he truly shows that whatever your obstacles are you can overcome them. You can overcome them with a smile on your face and a cheerful outlook on life. So that's why I admire him. He's one of the most important people in my life, especially right now.

7. Coach Brown


I've heard that you only get about one or two really awesome teachers in your entire lifetime. Coach Brown would have to be one of those. He is truly one of the best teachers I have ever had. And I'm not just saying this to suck up to him. I had him last year, my junior year, for AP U.S. History.


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11.15.2001
 

I always thought that Michael Jackson was sort of creepy



Seriously. Look at this short clip. But don't look at it right before you go to bed. It might give you nightmares.

~shudders~


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Aid Workers Released



Well, I've found this interesting. I wrote about something that was happening in Afghanistan on September 9th 2001. I'm not going to tell the whole story again, but here's a link to that day. That's sort of funny (painful funny), that I was talking about the Taliban two days before September 11th. Huh.


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Hell Has Indeed Frozen Over



They have canceled all of the 3A playoff games that were due to start tomorrow. That's football, by the way. This is North Carolina. They don't just cancel football games around here. I mean, seriously, it's really the only thing that happens around here.

The story, from what I understand, is a bit complicated. But I'll shorten it.

Apparently, there was this player at North Gaston (a high school), who transferred in from Hunter Huss (another high school). He would have been ineligable to play football at North Gaston, except that someone falsified his grades. He played in 9 games before they found out. So then they had to forfeit all their wins and give up their chance in the playoffs. That gave East Lincoln (a high school), a leg in, so to speak.

This resulted in this. Rebecca Bolton, a mother filed an appeal and won.

Great. So that kicks East Lincoln out and puts North Gaston back in.

But back to my title of today's post. As a result of that, some parents or something of East Lincoln have now appealed so that they can get back in. So instead of having some of the games a week late, they canceled all of the 3A games. I'm not sure if that's just the Southwestern 3A playoffs, or is that all? I'm not well versed in my football, so I'm not sure.

My high school, Crest High School is 10-0. So that means that if we get all the way to the top, the last game will be the 21st of December. Bleah. Oh well.


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11.14.2001
 

Links



BTW, if you didn't notice, I added some more links there on the left. But this time, they are all those lovely news links that I like to look at.


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Another Day, Another Handful of Chex Mix



Well, maybe not. But today it is. I'm munching on Chex Mix while I listen to 80's music on the radio.

I've always felt like I should have been a child of the 80's, instead of the 90's. Well, I was a child. I just didn't grow up during that time. I was born in 1984. And while that is a wonderful year to be born in; I wasn't really aware of all the cool things that were going on around me. A lot of people hate 80's music. But I like it because it is it happy. :)


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11.13.2001
 

Parades



As much as I hate to admit that it has come again, it is parade season. I hate parades. I really do. I don't mind watching them, but being in them is past my level of comfort.

Why?


  1. They're either very hot or very cold.
  2. They're long.
  3. They're dangerous.
  4. They're not just tiring, they're exhausting.


Clarification?

1. They're either very hot or very cold.


There was this one parade about two years ago. It was mid-November. It was 80 degrees (F) out there. We had people passing out. We have to wear these polyester outfits. That's hat, gloves, coat, bibbers and shoes. Polyester is either hot when it's hot outside or cold when it's cold. It was bad.

Then there was this parade last year. See last year, we didn't have gloves. We didn't have gloves because people wouldn't shut up for long enough for our band director to get our sizes.

So we were out there, getting ready to march the Earl parade. Yes, I know. Earl. It was about 30 degrees (F) and windy. I was hold a wet, metal instrument. It was bad. My fingers started swelling as soon as I got done with it. Why was my horn wet? Spit valve.

2. They're long.


I understand that some Christmas parades can go as long as ten or fifteen miles. That would be the big city ones. Luckily, ours aren't that long. If they ever got that long, I think that I'd quit.

The first parade that I ever had to go through, I thought that I was going to die. That was the really hot one. My arms were killing me. I play mellophone, which is sort of like a big trumpet. My back hurt. I had sweat running down my face. I couldn't breathe or move.

That was my first parade. Later, I realized that that parade was the short one. It was only about a mile long. But give me a break, it was my first one.

But the long one is the Earl parade. It's winds through the "town" for about 3 miles. I think Earl has a population of about three hundred, or so. We had to march through the woods. We had to march over railroad tracks. That's no fun, because you're not supposed to look down. We only passed about 4 churches, 6 houses and maybe about 20 people. It may have more, but it didn't look like it.

3. They're dangerous.


And how could that be? Well, there was this girl that I knew. She played clarinet. She passed out in the middle of the parade and rolled into a ditch. What fun.

We also have to watch out for horse. . . um, poop. That's no fun either. Last year there was a dead skunk in the middle of the road. The poor girl who stepped on it didn't see it in time, because she was right behind the drums.

And then there are the various problems with the flags. It's not the flag girls' faults. IF you get too close to the flags, watch out. Especially camera guys. I've never actually seen this happen, but there have been people knocked out cold because of the flags.

4. They're not just tiring, they're exhausting.


When I get done with a parade, I just want to sink down onto the ground and die. I'm especially glad that I don't play percussion or tuba. Those things are just too heavy to have to haul around for an hour or more at a time.

Mellophone, like I said, is like a big trumpet. It's bigger, it's heavier. It's what french horns normally march with. It weighs perhaps 5 lbs. That's less that baritones or tenor saxes (although they have a strap). But the point is, it's heavier than a trumpet. And of course we all think it's funny when most of the trumpets are male, and they can't even hold their trumpets parallel to the ground all the time. I'm a girl (less upper body strength you know). I have a bigger instrument, but yet I manage to hold it up parallel to the ground all the time. That takes a bit out of me.

Then you have to deal with the marching. Rolling your heels and toes and all of that. If you march too heavily, your lips move too much and it's hard to play.

So, why am I in Marching Band?

After two and a half years of this, I sort of wonder that myself. I decided that I definitely like Concert Band better. Most people consider Marching Band to be more fun, but I've always like Concert Band.

Our first parade is this Sunday. The next one is the 25th of November. And the one after that is the 2nd of December. That's the Earl one. Yay. Bleah.


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11.12.2001
 

Thanks to tavie.com



I found the color profiler. This is whom I am, depending on my color profile.

It's right on. And I think I that I have written enough tonight. I've got to go get the feeling back in my hands and fingertips by going to handbells.


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So This Might Be The Hormones Talking, But..



I had some slight insomnia last night. Okay, so the movie, "Saving Private Ryan," more or less set it off. I started thinking about Sept. 11th. Yeah, I know I said I might stop talking about it, but I can't. It's everywhere. The slightest things will set me off. That's why I changed how the dates were displayed on this page. They were in the European style. 9.11.01. That looks a heck of a lot like Sept. 11th. What? It does. Everything makes me think of it.

So I was watching this movie last night, okay? And I just started bawling my eyes out. All I could really think of were the thousands of people who died. And maybe the thousands of dead people yet to come. The only thoughts, the only words that kept crossing my mind were, "We lost our souls that day." It's been a downward spiral ever since. And there's no getting out of it.

So maybe this is the pacifist side of me. I guess so. The moral, caring, empathizing side. It sticks its head up every now and then.

I was still bawling my eyes out, and I couldn't get to sleep. Yeah, it is sort of hard when you can't stop crying for more than 30 seconds. I just kept saying to myself, over and over, "We lost our souls." I said already, I know. But it's true. I haven't been willing to really think about what happened since it happened. I froze over. I did what everyone else more or less did. I went on. I guess that was the best thing to do. I guess. I don't see how though. They tell you go to on, but they don't tell you to spend any time coming to grips with it. So it just springs up (literally in some cases), when you're least expecting it. Luckily I wasn't driving or at school or anything. That would have been bad.

The future is so bleak and dark. And I don't have anyone I ask for help from, because no one else knows what to say. Or else they "moved on," and they aren't willing to speak about it. I feel like we're all alone. I feel like I'm all alone. That girl who reviewed my blog said my posts were depressing and spent too much time on the news right now. It's affecting my life. And if I want to write about it, damn it, I will.


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This Site Was Reviewed



You may or may not know that. I submitted it to this place. So I agreed with a couple of things the reviewer said. A couple. A few. The person who reviewed my blog did not like it. She gave it a 1, out of a possible 5 points. The readers liked it even less. They gave me a 0.5.

I just thought that it was funny to view the reviewer's homepage. Especially since it would have been on my list of semi-crappy blogs. I just think that's funny. She told me that she didn't like my blog, and I don't like hers. I think it's just a matter of objective.

She said that my posts were depressing. She said that my title was boring, because she didn't understand it. I fixed that. She said I hadn't ever finished my profile. What's to say I ever was going to? She's 16 and lives in Australia. She doesn't understand how I feel. She also happens to be younger than I am. Hm. A kid. Heh.

No, no. I'm not trying to be mean. I knew what might happen when I submitted my site. I did get something out of it. I finally wrote down the history behind LCH.

And besides, my friends keep telling me to let out my feelings and not let others walk all over me. Well, heck yes. This feels good.


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When I'm Feeling Down..



I read. I read different things. I read my favorite novels sometimes, or old children books or the Bible.

"Save me, O God,
for the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods enfulf me." - Psalm 69:1 & 2


Psalm is poetry. I love it.


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11.10.2001
 

Look!



Look at the below post, isn't that cool?


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So, what now?



Well, who am I? Where am I going? Will there be anyone there when I get there? Which roads will I take? How long will it take? Am I going to end up married with three kids? Or alone? And I repeat, who am I?

What do I like? I like structured things. I like wild things. I like the indoors. I like nature. Why?

Nature: It's just so free of constraints. But at the same time, everything knows its place in its ecosystem. It knows instinctively what to do. Especially plants. Trees are awesome. They're just so long lasting. They never quit it seems. They're just so strong and there. I can't explain it. They're always changing.

I go outside at night, just to be there. To feel as if I am a part of it. I like how the air feels and smells. I like how I know the stars are always there. Rain or shine. I like the darkness. The feeling that no one is around, but I'm not alone. I love the wind. How it travels from place to place. It brings in new smells, new ideas, new feelings. The night gives me a chance to remove my heavy outer garments, so to speak, and really become who I am.

Maybe that's why I want to go to college. To rediscover myself. To find out if the person that is here all the time, is really the person that I want to be. To learn and discover the true inner me. To feel as if I'm not just spouting other people's words or opinions. To feel like I'm voicing my own views and expressions. To really understand myself.

When I go to college, I just know that good things are going to happen. New experiences, new people, new scenery, new wind, new night sky. I can't wait. I've got to get out of this place. I feel like I'm smothering. I feel like I'm falling into this deep rut of sameness that I'll never ever be able to get out of. I'm stuck. And I need to find out if the outside world sees me as those who have known me for seven years do. Maybe I'm more than they think. Maybe I'm less. Maybe the real me has nothing to do with who I am now. Maybe the real me is someone so far distant and removed from the me now, that I won't even be able to recognize myself in a few years. I sincerely hope so.

Maybe the "Now Me" is okay. Maybe. For now. With the same people always around, you can't really get a good understanding of how things will work out in the future.

I betcha that I won't be homesick though. I know of several people who graduated last year and who go to college at various places around here. They come home almost every weekend it feels like. I can't do that. That's not the meaning of leaving and getting out on your own. If you come back every week, you're not really cutting off completely. If I did that, I wouldn't really be discovering myself. I'd be slowly growing into myself, but then have progress halted and reversed. I can't do that. My identity is too important to me. And it scares me that I really have never known whom I am. I think that I am closer to knowing the answer than I ever have been before. It feels like it's just out of my reach. And I think that college will help me by giving me the step stool(s) that I have been lacking.

I started this post originally with the idea of writing down my top ten reasons for wanting to go to college. I realized that I couldn't just do that, because there's more to it than that.


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Pics O' Me



I just added some more pictures of me, courtesy of my Dad. They were all taken at the last game of our regular football season. We're now off to the playoffs, what with being 10-0. We won that game 56-0, I think.


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Today is Saturday



I think. I'm assuming this, since I'm too lazy to look at the calendar.

So I checked in on this page earlier today. It was working fine. Now it's not. This bothers me. Why the heck is it going all the way over to the right side??


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Trying Something



History Behind LCH


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11.09.2001
 

Muahahahaha



The end of men? Well, you might say, "Wow, that'd be neat. Women should rule the world anyway." But I wonder about the whole question of sex? Unless all women were lesbians, I think some women wouldn't like the idea of not having men around.

I kind of like men. I feel that everything was put on this earth for a reason, men being one of those things. So while some men may question the longevity of their positions on this earth, I don't really think that they have anything to fear.


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Joke:



A squad of American soldiers was patrolling...



A squad of American soldiers was patrolling the Iraqi border, when they came across a badly mangled dead body. As they got closer, they found it was an Iraqi soldier.
A short distance up the road, they found a badly mangled American soldier in a ditch on the other side of the road, struggling to breathe. They ran to him, cradled his bruised head and asked him what had happened.

"Well," he whispered, "I was walking down this road, armed to the teeth when I came across this heavily armed Iraqi border guard. I looked him right in the eye and shouted, 'Saddam Hussein is a moronic, deceitful, lying piece of trash!'"

"He looked me right in the eye and shouted back, 'George W. Bush is a moronic, deceitful, lying piece of trash too!'"

"We were standing there shaking hands when the truck hit us."


That was funny as hell.


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Look, I Can't Be Anyone But Whom I Am



And I'm currently trying to figure that out. Obviously I need to let my feelings out more. If for nothing else, to make this blog more interesting. And I'm sorry if I made this place feel like I'm a distant and cold person. It's just how I sometimes act. I forget to really put how I feel. I try to pretend like everything is okay, because it is safer that way.

Currently, I think I am over my obsession with the recent news in the world. Except for the fact that I dreamed that I had come in contact with Anthrax last night. That was a freaky dream. But I think I might try to be more real from now on.


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The History Behind LCH



LCH stands for last crazy horn. I play French Horn in the band at school. I'm a senior this year and first chair I might happily add. This particular band is the Senior High Band. We do marching band and concert band. You can choose to either be in both or drop out a semester and then test and get back in. A lot of people choose to stay in for first semester (marching band) and then they drop out for concert band. I love it all, so I refuse to drop out. Even though this means that I have to take a Zero Period class. Zero Period starts at 7:05, instead of the customary 8 am.

But all of that doesn't really matter, except for the Senior High Band bit. When I was a sophomore, there were two horns in my grade. My best buddy Julie and me. When we became part of the Senior High Band, we found out that we had a bigger section, due to older horns. There was this really crazy, fun girl named Kristy who was the senior then. She made you feel welcome and she was always nice. Plus, she was good on French Horn and made up for what the other two lacked. Those other two were juniors. They were kind of prissy and stuck up. They didn't want much to do with us. One of them was first chair, she was the worst. She never wanted to play much, and I don't really know why she stayed in. Her name was Carrie. The other junior horn was a girl named Heather. She was all right, I guess. But she never tried that hard, and didn't play so that you could hear her.

So my friends in that section were Kristy and Julie. I've always been a bit weird, but together it was fun.

Anyway, at the end of that year, Kristy graduated and Julie dropped out. Julie hadn't been doing too wonderful in band that last semester. When she had tested, she had gotten a pretty bad grade. And I think I knew that she would probably drop out. She stopped acting excited about band and her tone got kind of fuzzy. She would ask me what time it was all the time in band, because she was bored.

So my Junior year, I was stuck with two snobby seniors (the former juniors), and two sophomores. The sophomores kept mostly to themselves and thought that I was weird beyond weird. They didn't really want anything to do with me. I was stuck in the middle. All the crazy ones had left.

So I was the last crazy horn. Or LCH for short.


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11.08.2001
 
Did I mention that it really scares me when my page won't show up?


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Euthanasia



While I wouldn't ever do it myself, I don't see why others shouldn't be allowed to die as they wish. I feel the same way about this as I do about abortion. While I wouldn't ever do it myself, I don't think that you should interfere with someone's decision. It's their decision. I just don't see why you want to interfere with something like that.

Okay, correction. I could possible see how someone could think like that, but I don't see how they could want to.

I just think that it's nice that people are fighting back now and again about these sorts of things.

Deep Thoughts



Well, I had posted this and thought, "Well, that's that." But then I started thinking some more. Why exactly does that bug me so much?

It's the government interfering with our choices, our decisions. But the government does that anyway, doesn't it? I guess it's just because I'm sort of young, that I haven't really thought about this much. Sometimes it feels like the government is not here really. I think they do that on purpose. They wait until we have forgotten about them, before they make their move.

~scratches head~

Well, that sounds sort of bad. But I think that it is wrong when a person's decision about their life is interfered with by some outside, uncaring, impersonal source. Some powerful outside, uncaring, impersonal source. They don't know what that person is going through. It's not the government's decision. It's theirs.

If the ability to choose our own paths is taken away from us, what are we then? Where are we then? We are nothing.

I got this idea off of Star Trek Enterprise. Tripp was talking to this Vulcan about humans. One of our basic things in life is to have a choice in our futures. Or at least be able to choose what we want, if the opportunity arises.


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11.07.2001
 

The Infallible Nose Test



Yes indeedy. The most important test of all.

Look, if I can see your nose, you're tailgating me too much. In fact, while we're on it, don't tailgate me at all. That would make me very happy.

Listen, GET OFF OF MY BUTT.

For some reason, maybe because it's the law, but I actually do the speed limit. I might go 5 over once in a while, but that's about it.

You see, if you ride on my butt, I'm going to drop down and do exactly the speed limit. Maybe a little under if I feel like it.

So GET OFF OF MY FREAKING BUTT.

Okay, rant over.



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11.06.2001
 

I used to have this old fear



Fear of being invisible. Do you suppose that there is such a phobia? There better be, because I have it. Maybe it's the fear of not being seen. If you float along life, being part of the background, you blend in. You pick up a sort of camouflage, and that's all you are. Nothing. No one would notice if you weren't there. Probably no one notices if you are there anyway.

Inside jokes are like that as well. Especially if all of your friends know the joke, and no one will tell you. So you can either pretend like it doesn't matter- or you can smile and laugh and pretend like you finally figured out what it was. It's especially bad when the people who came up with the joke say that it is easy to understand and you still don't get it. So they go and have a good laugh, some good fun I suppose. Leaving you out on the outside, looking in. Thinking maybe that it's just like all the other times. Always the same, over and over. Always being left out of the inner circle. Or just being left out completely.

Outside, looking in. So you're invisible. You pretend like it doesn't bother you. You go along with your day to day stuff. Maybe you purposely act weird or different just to remind yourself that you're still there. To remind yourself that you haven't faded into the background, the darkness, the mists. You aren't just another ghost that floats through life. You're really a person, you do have an identity, and you're really here.

So maybe that's my definition of the fear of invisiblity. So maybe it does exist. Maybe I'm not the only one who has it.

I think I kind of built a wall around myself. To keep from ever being hurt, I don't let many things faze me. So maybe I'm pull of the image of being a fun person, but not very serious-- and whose thoughts and feelings don't really matter that much. Yeah. I guess that's it.

And I don't get angry very often. Well, not to the outside world anyway. To the outside world I get mad, perhaps twice a year. That's really mad though. The screaming, cussing, crying, throwing things mad. The last time that happened I ended up sitting on someone. Hm.


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Not Much



I'm not doing much today, except homework. But until then....

I thought I might come on here and tell all of you wonderful, nice people that I was adding another blog to my list. Wonderful news, yes I know.

Comfort Zone



This is my comfort zone. I feel like there is a big bed and warm comfy blanket that I curl up on/in here. No mean people allowed here. (grumbles about mean, uncaring people)..


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11.05.2001
 

Chicago's O'Hare Airport



I don't particularly care for this airport. I got stuck there for a lengthy time once. For some reason, I can remember if it was this last Spring Break or the one before that. Hm.

What I do remember was that I got stuck there for what was supposed to only be about two hours, and what eventually turned into around seven or eight hours. Oh well. I talked to some interesting people. Mormons, a freshmen in college, a church youth group (or something)..a few others. It had started snowing, and then when we finally got on the plane, we had to get off because the door wouldn't close.

I'm guessing Subash Gurung doesn't much like that airport either. But, what do you really expect when you're sneaking in nine knifes, a can of mace and a taser? I mean, what could he have been thinking? Well, that sounds really stupid. Maybe he was going to take out the whole plane or something. Huh.

But then again, how exactly did the security people miss what he was carrying?


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11.04.2001
 

Everyone Deals With Worry In Different Ways



If you have been reading this blog lately, you may have noticed that the events of Sept. 11th are starting to get to me. Well here is an article dealing with those recent problems. Mostly it focuses on children, and how they are coping, but it's good for other people as well. It has some good tips in it- getting more sleep, eating regularly, that sort of thing.


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A Secret CIA Site Was Located In The WTC



Well, I certainly didn't know that. That's probably why it was considered secret. Right.

I got this from the NY Times.

It just seems like everything is coming out. And whether or not we wanted to know all that is a totally different story. I don't know if I particularly wanted to know that. Of course, now you know it too. Thanks to me.

On a lighter note



I recently started experimenting with font COLORS.


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11.03.2001
 

Maybe Possible Threats Are More Possible Than We Thought



A van was stopped at Cambridge Mall yesterday.

These vague threats everyone has been getting lately are perhaps not so unlikely after all. It seems like it almost happened. The article said that the security officer did his job just like he was supposed to. Well, true, I guess. Nothing was blown up. But then again, the van got away. So I'm wondering, why didn't he make the driver and the passenger get out of the car? Well, there was only one of him and two of them. But I don't know. It seems like he could have somehow gotten them. OH WELL. At least nothing bad happened. Plus, cops and what-not really know that there a probable threat out there.


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No Offense, but...



I always knew Virginia was backwards.

I think to get into the above link, you have to get a screen name with The New York Times. But that's alright. Everyone should, you know? Heh. Well, your decision.


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11.02.2001
 

Fear, fear everywhere..



..everyone, and everything. Well, I guess if they got a threat about it, it's good to be on the safe side. But what exactly can you do if they decide to blow up these bridges?

Bridges include:

Davis said the threat involved the Golden Gate Bridge and Bay Bridge in the San Francisco area, the Vincent Thomas Bridge at the Port of Los Angeles, and the Coronado Bridge in San Diego


And...

Capt. Ken Franke with the San Diego Harbor Police would not elaborate on specifics about security at the Coronado Bridge.

"Rest assured there's a very intensive security program in and around the bridge," he said.


Uh huh. Okay then. All I can say is..I'm glad I don't live there. And if I did, I'd avoid traveling for a while. I think the article said this threat for Nov. 2nd - November 7th.

I hope it doesn't rain on November 18th



Meteor showers are really cool, or so I've been told. I think I might have seen one or two in my lifetime. But this time, (as long as it's not cloudy), I'll be old enough to really appreciate it. If only it wasn't happening from 4 am- 6 am, I'd be happier. But eh, it doesn't really matter.

The last time this particular meteor shower occurred was in 1966. Heck, my brothers weren't even alive then. My mom would have been, um...ah, 18. That's pretty cool. I'm nearly that old. I turn 18 on April 6th. =)


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11.01.2001
 
"Sing me a song,
where crystal lights fall.
Where crying is not allowed,
and singing is all.

Sing me a song,
where the fairies all win
Where monsters aren't monsters,
and kinfolk are kin.

Sing me a song,
where I can escape--
Flying into the clouds,
away from it all.

Sing me a song,
where you don't have to think.
No thoughts are allowed,
just free will and song.

Sing me a song,
that you know you love to hear,
where our voices mingle--
completely clear.

Sing me a song,
in the crisp night air.
Where the moonlight stands firm,
shining in my hair.

Sing me a song,
where I don't have to cry.
Where I don't have to think,
where I am never shy.

Sing me a song,
of yellow daffodils.
That tells of great green fields,
and great rolling hills.

Sing me a song,
where my mother nevers yells--
or me at her--
over slightly trifling matters.

Sing me a song,
where everything is right--
in spite of all that's wrong--
in my darkness with no light.

Sing me a song,
where I know no wrong--
and things are fun,
and nothing is too long.

Show me this song I ask most firmly--
I would guess that it doesn't exist.
The darkness is strength to some--
And our sins are all too great to list."


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From the Washington Post:



"We didn't think that anybody could come up with the appropriate coatings for anthrax spores to make them float through the air with the greatest of ease," Zelicoff said, adding that exposing 28 people with a single opened envelope "is no mean trick."

And C.J. Peters, director of the Center for Biodefense at the University of Texas at Galveston, said that someone who has learned to produce two grams of anthrax spores milled to one to five microns -- as was true of the spores mailed to Senate Majority Leader Thomas A. Daschle (D-S.D.) -- could just as easily produce two kilograms of the stuff.

He sees the potential for a grander terror.

"With two grams of finely milled anthrax," Peters said, "if you can disseminate it in a closed system like a subway or building, you could infect hundreds of thousands of people."



So it's escalating. It's not just the occasional thing. The attacks are becoming more common, and are hitting more people.

"Hundreds of thousands of people". Hundreds of thousands of people. That's a lot. I mean, that just leaves me speechless.

On another thing: I just read that that Sept. 11th attacks resulted in the deaths of nearly 4,700 people. I didn't know the number. When it first happened, I remember people talking about how it would be at least 10,000 dead. Well, that's one thing to be thankful for.

But maybe those people who are sending anthrax are hoping to get the death toll up. Maybe they won't stop until they get it up into the 10,000 range. Maybe they won't even stop then. Think about life would be like then. I think we might have nuked their country by then. And what would that result in? Someone nuking us? End of the world as we know it? Are we talking about the return of Jesus Christ? Relevations?

I just looked outside. The trees are turning colors- brown, red, orange and yellow. The sun is shining. Everything looks peaceful, quiet. I'm not sure if I'm ready for the end of the world.

Bush said:

"This is a very unusual period in American history, obviously. We've never been attacked like this before. We're still being attacked," he said.



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And it's...YELLOW



Well I smelled that coming. That's right. Smelled it. The water at my house, that is. I think either the water around where I live is funky---------- or the pipes are rusty. Either way, the water is yellow sometimes. And, it has this smell. Bleah. So I just use my trusty Brita water filter bottle. Except for the fact that recently I just took out the filter and put it in another bottle. But I only did that because the Brita one is slightly too big to carry in my backpack.

But we also have a jug for around the home use. Mom mostly uses that, and I mostly use my water bottle.

For some reason I've been really thirsty today. I wasn't that hungry, nor did I have to use the restroom very much. I was just thirsty. Odd.


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I just want to know why my archives keep disappearing. I think I might come up with a back up archives section in my links section..oy.



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