Week 10

I've had a sibling for half my life but I still don't know her at all. She has a habit of writing me notes about things that happened that day. One day she wrote,"We played soccer in school today, I scored two goals and i missed one and i shot a girl in the face." She later explained that she kicked the ball which hit the girl in the face.

week 11 Ellen

Today me and my friends were talking about what is morally acceptable. The conclusion was drawn that the difference between right and wrong is simply perception.

week 10 Ellen

I never get mad. Or at least it happens really rarely. I like to think I'm a pretty even tempered person. I'm aware that I can get annoyed or frustrated but that's different than anger. Anyways, today I got angry and it was the weirdest sensation. My heart started racing and my face got all hot and my brain actually felt fuzzy and clouded. It made me wonder how people who get angry often deal with it because it made me have an emotional rollercoaster for the rest of the day. I wonder why biologically I'm not an angry person and what makes other people angrier than others.

Dawgs

Hey dawgs homies brothers gorls amigos beasts, if any people in Mr. Humphrey's next creative writing class are reading this, just know that this class is a good time. It is what you make of it! If you allow yourself to really delve into your writing and make meaningful pieces, you will enjoy this class. Please appreciate Mr. Humphrey's puns the way that my class did!

Cullen Week 10

Wow. Almost there. Summer 2018. This is the last summer that I will be considered a high schooler I guess. That is weird to think about. At this same time next year, I will have my high school diploma, hopefully. And that this time next year I will know what chapter lies ahead of me, aka where I am going to college, hopefully. Weird. Whatever, it sounds like a later problem so I'm just gunna live up summer 2018 to its full potential. HAGS

Mahony 9

aye aye AYEEE we almost out!!!!!!1
As much as I look forward to hearing Mr. Humphrey's clever puns each day, and guessing how many coffees Sophie has already consumed each morning, and the intriguing discussions that occur each week in anatomy, I am elated to walk out of this building at 1:55 for the 180th time this year, and drive out of the senior parking lot with open windows and blasting music. I sit here typing on this computer imagining my feet tucked beneath the white, warm sand and the wild sea breeze blowing my hair. I am imagining the late night swims in the pool, the beautiful sound of the ice cream truck, and the sunset runs that don't seem rushed. The endeavors to waterfalls, mountains, and flower fields. The all-nighters with friends that leave groggy, sleep-deprived teenagers the next morning; that will undoubtedly reoccur just because it's summer. Summer. This word builds excitement. It introduces endless possibilities. It is what you make of it. Anything can be made into an adventure when you don't have to wake up before 7:35. Summer 2018, I am ready to take you on.

Last Name Distance Learning #3

Baby Grand

Tucked away in the far corner of my basement is a peculiar object. Not peculiar at first glance but certainly after a second one. You see, not unlike others of its type it was not made peculiar, well I suppose it was by circumstance, but not of origin. Although admittedly it does make sounds, this object tells a story without those words or sounds.

It was to be the prized possession of the household, second to me of course. It looked out of place and time. A grand centerpiece for the otherwise frugal household. The first of its kind, it was one of the only items ever bought out of want instead of necessity, for those days every penny had to be saved...or so my father said. But I hated it. I felt vulnerable climbing up onto it like a child and exposed to the judgment of all those in the room. It’s presence demanded an attention that I seeked to avoid, but it’s influence upon my life left me in constant unease. The final straw and testament to its grandeur came in the winter of second grade, my first annual piano recital. The teacher had trouble booking a venue at such short notice and my father offered up our living room, empty as it was. It wasn’t much, just under twenty people seated in an assortment of chairs all dressed in semi-formal Christmas clothing. But walking up to it in the middle of the room felt like walking on stage of an opera house to perform a solo. All eyes on me for longest three minutes of my life. My mind raced as I tried to remember what to do next but fortunately muscle memory kicked in and my fingers carried the show. I played for a total of two minutes thirty for seconds, but in those two minutes, my life might as well have flashed before my eyes because I stepped away drained. The rest of the night was a blur of fake laughs and automatic responses, I was too busy looking at it. It was hard not to, and so I decided I finally had to do something about it. The next day, despite my parents outrage, before I got onto to play I took out a chisel like pen and drew. It wasn’t much but it perfectly capture how I felt the day before going up in front of everyone. It was enough to get me a few bruises and grounded for a month but none of it worked. Everyday before I got on to play it, I would sit down next to it and draw. It eventually got moved to my basement where it wouldn’t be such an eye sore, but that just made things worse - for them. I would be found there hours at a time sitting and drawing, etching into the wood my emotions. Captured within the polished wood are the numerous dates, wins, failures, as well as countless rainy days both figurative and literal. Overtime, the drawings stopped becoming those of an eyesore but of art that my father stood over - proud. But he didn’t move it, didn’t even think about it, feeling guilty for things he had done years ago. He sees how it had growing form an unwieldy act of rebellion to an extension of myself. There it will remain, a reminder to my parents that sometimes that which is worth showing off is sometimes worth more kept to ourselves.

And so it stands, my grand piano. Tucked away in a little corner of my basement carefully cradling the stories of my life.

distance learning ellen #3

Last weekend, I came downstairs to tell my parents the news. They sat in the living room, a documentary dully playing in the background as they absentmindedly completed work they brought home with them: adulting. I entered into the room announcing, “Well, it’s sad to say, but today's the day. I’m officially done with Bah and Beary.” I stood there with hands on my hips, grinning at my newfound maturity. But I swear to God, it looked like these people just found out someone died. They looked at me, eyes as wide as possible, and began questioning me. Why was I doing this? Was I throwing them away? If I wasn't throwing them away, then what was I doing with them? After I reassured them that Bah and Beary would be just fine, they sank in their seats. After a couple seconds, my dad looked up at me and goes, “That makes me kinda sad, El” I laughed and turned around leaving the room, “Your kid is growing up guys! You can’t stop the inevitable!” I know it seems cruel, but it’s the truth.

Some clarification: Bah and Beary are stuffed animals I have had since I was born. Bah is a lamb (lambs go “bah”- very creative name I think), and Beary, the less creative name out of the two, is a bear. I decided after staying with my 20 year old cousin for a couple nights that I did not and should not need stuffed animals to fall asleep. I’m growing up. I’m going to college in a year, I can drive, and my 17th birthday is coming up in a week. I am a freethinker and am in charge of my actions. I do not need two stuffed animals to fall asleep.

So that attitude lasted a couple days. I went a few nights without Bah and Beary, and much to my curmudgeon, had some real difficulty falling asleep. This wasn’t supposed to happen, I should be able to break the ties and walk the talk.

I admit, as of now Bah and Beary are tucked into my bed, waiting for me to come sleep. While it’s not something about myself I freely share, I have come to the conclusion it’s kinda nice I still sleep with stuffed animals. I mean, it’s definitely not cool, but it’s not like the fact that there’s a lamb and a bear in bed, keeps time from ticking on. I’m allowed to hold onto the innocence of my childhood as I fall into a land of dreams, and I’m okay with that.

Week 10

Two sides of me keep showing up even more. I want to go home but I want to stay. There is a desire what makes me want to feel like my old self again, but it's not possible. I will never be who I was because there is no way back, only further. But I think that's the beauty of the life. We change with a time, and if we feel lost, we have a chance to try again.

Cullen DL 3

               My dog is near and dear to my heart. This eighty pounded, yellow lab, has a deep place within my family, and is a fundamental reason to why I smile at home. My dogs name is Tanner. He is nine years old, but still acts like a puppy. Everyday when I get home from school, sports practices, or even late parties, he is sitting at the door, awaiting my arrival. When I am upset, he notices. He notices, and he comes over and licks my entire face with his gross, smelly breath. His brother, Jackson, is my best friend's dog. We got them together. It has kept us as close as we are.
              Before my family had a dog, we were always on the run. Constantly going places, never really home. Upon getting Tanner, my family has learned to slow down a bit. We always are forced to come home to see his shining face, and feed him dinner, and take him for a walk. Dogs do no wrong. You can never be mad at them, or hate them. You can only love them, miss them, and cherish them. Tanner can sense when I am in a bad mood. He tries to make up for whatever put me in such a state, and comes and cuddles with me, or brings me his toy. He genuinely wants me to feel better again.
               My best friends, basically my sister, brother, and second parents, were the reason we got Tanner. They convinced my parents to get a dog with them. We ended up with Tanner and Jackson Blue. Brothers for life. Before we had brother dogs we saw them a lot in the summer, but only a few times during the school year. But now that our dogs constantly beg with their whimpering to see each other, I get to see them almost every day during the summer, and very often during the school year. Tanner allows me to see my best friend, and he gets to see his too.

distance learning #3 KC

My shiny, silver bracelet is an object that holds much significance in my life. It is a very simple, thin-banded piece that reads "BLESSED" in tiny black letters. It is versatile; it can be layered with colorful, threaded friendships bracelets for casual beach trips and silver hoops for a fancy girls night out. Its pliability allows me to slip it on and off my wrist at any given moment. Its simplicity offers an element of style while not looking too flashy. The appearance of this bracelet is pleasing, and serves its purpose. But deeper than that...
This bracelet holds intense significance to me. As cliche as it sounds, when I glance at my bracelet and read the message on my bracelet, it reminds me to be thankful. So often in life, I take the importance things for granted. I can get so caught up in the stupid, insignificant crap, and forget about what truly matters to me. It is a reminder to appreciate what I have, enjoy the moment I'm in, and share my blessings with others. This small silver circle is a representation of life. There is a beginning and an end. I am on a journey; hopefully far from the end. What I accomplish on this journey, I aim to make impactful.
Part of the significance of this object results from its bestower. My best friend Sophie gave me this bracelet on my 17th birthday. She told me that I am a blessing in her life. I carry this message with me, and also always remember how big of a blessing she is in my life. This bracelet symbolizes friendship. Strong and durable yet flexible when messed with. My friendship with Sophie is one that will last a lifetime, this i know. We just need to be flexible to change and honest with each other.

DL 6/9, Reicela

A silver ring with an aquamarine stone always sparkling in the sun. I take it everywhere with me, and never leave it behind. The ring has ornaments of the sea, and inside of the ring is a grafted name- Janet Petravica. The stone is in a light blue color, giving clarity and brightness. That's my sister's ring, and for a long time I wore it every single day because if I did not, I felt bare and unprotected.

This ring represents our relationships and love. She got the ring, when she left Latvia and started a new life in another country. When she came back for just a summer, she gave me a ring as a piece of remembrance. I did't feel lonely anymore, and I felt she was with me all the time. It gave me a power, strength and something to hold on and remember that my sister, best friend, person I can't imagine my life without is with me. Always and forever.

Macey Distance Learning 3

My object is my hat from Greenleaf Hut. My dad bought this for me, along with many snicker bars, when we stopped at Greenleaf on our way up Mt. Lafayette. The hat, now a faded blue with a wrinkled embroidering, fits me about as well as a yamaka. The clasp to adjust the size is partially rusted, and any shape that it once had was lost years ago. Back in the day, however, it was a striking blue with a handsome outline of the White Mountains. The Greenleaf Hut logo and altitude were also proudly depicted, nestled below the hills. To be honest, I’m not sure if it ever looked that grand, or if I just remember it that way; I don’t keep it to be a fashion model.

The reason that I do hold onto the hat has more to do with its time of purchase than anything else. It was given to me on what would become the first of many expeditions that my father and I had in the Whites. My hat has accompanied me on almost all of the following journeys, and has been carried over the crest of Mt. Washington and dipped into the waterfalls of Little Haystack. This hat represents a simpler chapter of my life, a time in which my weekends were filled with adventures and not coursework, an era in which I could put away the outside world and submerge myself in thought as I traipsed through overgrown trails; where any problems were as absent as society itself. My hat was there on all of the camping trips, where the rehydrated chicken soup that I split with my father tasted better than any of the meals that I’ve had in a restaurant. When my dad and I arrived in camp at 1 A.M. with the rain pouring down, my hat was nestled in my bag. When we came out of the woods a few days later, packs heavy and boots wet, my hat stood witness to our struggles. Few souvenirs leave the forest with my father and I, yet the fades and grime occupying my hat remind me of my adventures. Although my hat is now too small to be worn, its travels will be too large to forget.

Week 11 Macey

I heard about Rosanne being fired over her tweet, and it reminded me how it is much harder to earn something then lose it.

Week 10 Macey

I was driving alone for the first time and it felt surreal, like I was watching myself drive but wasn't actually the one doing it. Then I realized that everything that you really look forward to or prepare for feels the same way. Finals, vacations, everything.

Week 9 Macey

I got my license, but my parents still won’t let me drive. This made me think about the myth of Tantalus, and how he had the worst punishment out of everyone ever.