Sophomore year, Graduation, and Bruce Lee

Dear Blog,

Sophomore year is no more; I am now a junior. Two more years of sucking up for my straight A’s, (in your face, dad!), trying to be a role model for the increasingly immature underclassmen, and over achieving as much as humanly possible. 5 stars for an impressive resume! Also, tonight, quite a few of my friends are graduating. 😦 My makeup is so not gonna survive it. I know, it’s so lame to cry at graduation. But I’m gonna miss them, darnit!

In the spirit of seniors, this morning we got to school to witness the outcome of the yearly “Senior Prank”. A few boys, who shall remain nameless, took almost all the ceiling tiles out, and stacked them in front of the stairs so no one could get upstairs. They then proceeded to remove all of the fluorescent light bulbs and put them in lockers. The teachers weren’t happy, but we all found it pretty epic.

Anywho, I fished a goldfish out of the turtle tank in the science classroom, and named it Bruce Lee. I also got straight A’s. Meaning, I get my nose pierced!

All in all, today was made of win.

Over and out.


First To Be Second

A school board is defined as a local group of elected officials that oversee public schools. However, it goes  a little deeper than that. When I say deeper, I don’t mean because they make every critical decision affecting your child’s education. I mean because they’re a bunch of competitive, human people. They even have senses of humor, believe it or not!

Anyway, I made an interesting observation about these closet normal people. See, we sit at our half-circle table, notes in front of us, trying to look all important. We approve critical and not so critical things. But, really, it’s all just a race. A race that I didn’t pick up on until last Monday’s meeting. They all want to be the first to second.

Seconding a motion is like being the guy who says, “Yeah. Let’s do that.” Then everyone does it, and you’re really cool. So the lucky-duck that gets to say, “Second” into their little microphone is the momentary envy of every other member. Not only are they ‘Mr. Cool-Decision-Maker’, but they also get a very special recognition from the school board president. “Thank you -insert name here- For the second.”

It’s all very honorary and great. I really should be first to second more often.

Over and Out

I Wash My Hands With Lint.

Ah, the bar of soap. A simple creature. It silently lounges on the bathroom counter, awaiting it’s next germ-covered victim. We all, day after day, wash our hands with this same bar of soap. Each of us leaving on it a small mark of what we did that day. Paint from the model car on the kitchen table, Marker from that art project that’s due next Tuesday,  refried beans from dinner. These suspects cling to the bubbly exterior of the supposedly clean bathroom bar. But has anyone ever bothered to actually take a look at this evil-doer? Look closely. Dust surrounds the bar in it’s once happy little dish. The branded words, sketched deep into the soap’s exterior, are filled to the brim with residue. Not clean, happy-looking soap bubbles. I’m talkin’ dirt. Lint. Grease. Oil. Pastel. Marker. Crayon. Soy Sauce? Who knows what occupies those deceiving dents? What’s worse is the bar soap in the shower. More often than not, I find my poor soap on the floor of the bathtub. No one wants to scrub with whatever un-Godly creatures lurk around the drain. So here I sit, eating my microwaved chimichanga, and wondering how clean my hands really are.

Over and Out

Thoughtless Poetry

Unfortunately for the reader,

Inspiration is at an all time low.

My lack of ability to form strings of words

into a sensible piece of literature is hindering my

possible A+.

I fail to meet expectations today,

as I’ve really nothing to create.

My levels of imagination have dipped into the negatives;

shifted to the other side of the scale.

Thoughts are an impossibility, it seems,

maybe someone else should dive into my head,

help me produce my stubborn ideas.

I can feel them there,

dancing around my mind, just

out of reach.

They play behind my eyes a game

of infuriating hide ‘n’ seek.

The best ones tuck themselves away

in the dustiest part of my brain,

giggle to each other,

knowing I can’t possibly find them now.

Inspiration teams up with imagination

in their cruel little game.

They hid away together, don’t even dare to whisper.

They won’t allow me to search them out,

They ignore my desperate cries,

And they leave me with

A C-average paper.

National Honors Society

Yesterday,  I was informed I was accepted into the National Honors Society. Woohoo, right? I was actually informed of my interview approximately three days before said interview, and was given very little time to prepare myself. Apparently, I rock at winging it.  I guess it’s kind of a big deal considering I’m a sophomore. I’ll just put this on my list of “Impressive things for college applications.” Right under my excellent ‘winging it’ skills, and about 2o34234 places above my lack of study skills.

Over and out.

We Ruined It.

Swift blue waters in clean creek beds,
fluffy, white clouds above our heads.
the clean air flows easily within our lungs,
before the pollution.

Tall trees sway quietly, their branches still thick,
we didn’t imagine they’d soon fall sick.
the foggy city air pays no mind to the earth:
beggining of pollution.

Factories begin working, and the smog is emitted,
the earth begins losing; mother nature outwitted.
plants soon begin wilting, they’ve no chance against filth.
This is the pollution.

Pesticides, oil, nuclear waste,
it’s all because of our insistant haste
to suit lazy people, and make our lives easy;
we ruined it with pollution

Cabin Fever