Our Town Monologue/Goodbye

Hey, it rhymes with blog again :)


Goodbye constant heartbeat and everlasting breath. Running in the sun and long, heartfelt talks. So long freedom, security and civil rights. Farewell to a good book and funny faces. The feeling of accomplishment and fresh air. Sarcasm, smiling, pretending to trip people and made up games in English. Goodbye new hair cuts and freshly mowed grass. The sound of the piano, the guitar, the cello... music! Goodbye light: red, blue, yellow and everything in between. Art; from Picasso to finger paintings. Goodbye cool breeze on summer nights and warming sun. Saturday morning cartoons, Wednesday drama and Thursday night comedy. Good by loving, laughing, learning and living. Oh, Earth! You're so misinterpreted!


Goodbye uncomfortable shoes and this itch in my eyes. Hypocrites and negative media. Carelessness, ripped jeans and lies. Goodbye controlling parents, lonliness and the monster under the bed. Broken hear, fast women and doing the dishes. Farewell to doubt, ignorance and jealousy. Gym class and push-ups. Vegetables, talkative relatives and road kill. Goodbye procrastination, early mornings and studying. Geometry and popularity. And cold winters, global warming and cigarette smoke. Goodbye loud mouths and know-it-alls. Lazy people, anxiety and scraped knees. And Biology homework, colds and worry. Goodbye generalizations, prejudice and cheaters. Stomach aches and Primary Source Documents. And humiliation and lunchroom fights. Goodbye being tired, gossip and crying. Oh, Earth!


Goodbye all. It's been really, really amazing having this class with you and getting to know you.


With love,
Kirstyn B. Showalter

Where I'm from..

These last few blogs are going to be of some of my favorite things I've ever written for Ms. Fultz.


Here goes.


I'm from bare feet and bathing suits.
From sitting in the grass and looking at the stars.
I am from late night dancing
that never seemed to stop.
I am from tire swing and water slides
completely improvised.


I am from freedom and acceptance
and "be-who-you-want-to-be".
Frome "use your inside voice"
and "sit like a lady, please".
I am from don't kick him when he's down
even though he might deserve it.


I am from Hill and Dobinski.
Two made their way from Scandinavia
and two from Poland.
I am from taking care of yourself
and death, disease and cancer.
I am from faded pictures of relatives
I never go the honor of meeting
and stories told by family friends
that always got me thinking.


I am from living, loving, dying
then doing it again.
From rising from the ashes
and hard work and harder times.
I am from yelling, fighting and crying
yet somehow making it through.
I am from I am who I am
even if I'm not quite sure who that is yet.

This I believe...

I believe in individuality. We are all separate organisms. Our bodies react differently to outside elements: temperature, chemicals, pain. Scientifically speaking, no two people are alike. We are all different sizes, shapes and colors. We all have different muscle densities, finger prints and hair textures. There are endless possible combinations. But this does not make us individuals.

 

A psychologist would say that every person’s brain develops and interprets adversely. Words like fear, love and faith stimulate a variety of emotions in different people. Some place their faith in God; others give it to themselves. Some people feel love from all the people that they encounter; others feel nothing at all. Many people are afraid of heights, but there are others who sky dive. Our emotions surely set us apart from one another, but they do not make us individuals either.

 

I believe that true individuality can only be achieved by those who aren’t afraid of who they are. Individuality doesn’t necessarily mean being different than anyone else. It is embracing your true self even if it is similar to your peers or nothing that the world has ever seen. It’s about not letting what others think or do influence who you want to be.

 

Individuality is occasionally rough. It sometimes means being misunderstood. It sometimes means being called names for the way you dress. It sometimes means being laughed at for your beliefs. You might find yourself spending time alone, or disliking too many people. You might find yourself being the one who is disliked. On very rare occasions you might find yourself running down the hall in tears because you’ve put up with it for too long.

 

However, there are other times when you look around at all the empty shells who blindly follow the leads of others and you smile to yourself because you know that even if you are a worse person, you are also your own person. This moment of complete peace makes it all worth it: all of the tears, the pain and the confusion.

 

I believe that individuality is not something that you’re born with or have a natural right to. It is a sense of clarity that you should hope to develop as you go through life. Most importantly, I believe that I am an individual. And I’m okay with that.

>)))>*<(((< Kissin' Fishies

Here is a series of random facts about myself:

*I know pi to nine decimal places - 3.141592654

*I once jumped 400 times on a pogo stick without using my hands.

*My brother and I are exactly 20 months apart and we both weighed the same and were the same length.

*Kayleah Grob owes me t-shirt for finishing a giant plate of food at lunch one day.

*I have an irrational fear of water touching my skin.

*I have a very rational fear of spiders and multiples scares from them.

*My hair used to be slightly fro-ish and strawberry blond, so I guess I'm an ex-ginger.

*I have a very high tolerance for pain: I had a tooth ache for 6 years, giant spider bites and once punched a desk as hard as I could without flinching.

*My freshman year I hated basically everyone in my class; especially Kayleah Grob. I sometimes wonder when I'll get over it.

*My legs feel naked if I don't wear knee high socks.

*I sometimes get weird urges to do flips or walk on my hands. Alas, I cannot.

I guess that's enough for today.

ADIOS.

Blog.........................ger

So lately I've been getting annoyed very easily. I don't really know why. I just look at certain people or think of certain things and I feel so ANGRY.

It's very hard for me to get over. Once something like that enters my mind, I'll be in a bad mood for hours. It's frustrating and sometimes very hard to control my anger. I haven't done anything

There are some people that I honestly cannot stand. They make me so... I don't even know what it is. But I feel it anytime I see them, people talk about them or even when I think about them. I'm not going to name any names, but there are some people in this world whom I just simply do not respect and most likely never will.

There are others that I like sometimes, but dislike at other times. It's like a small child's feelings towards their parents. They do something and I get so angry and feel like I'll hate them forever and never talk to them again, et cetera. But then before long I cool off and love them again.

It all just boils down to anger issues. Yay! I love being that stupid, typical teenager that gets angry at everything and sometimes can't control it; that feels like everyone's out to get them. Unfortunately, I get that way sometimes. But don't we all? I mean, come on, we're all teenagers in here (excluding you, Ms. Fultz). You'd think we'd understand when our peers get this way. But, alas.

This blog is annoying me.

BYE

: D

Happy

Happy

Happy

Happy

Happy

...

kind of

> : |

Anger
and
Aggression
and
Apathy
and
Agitation
and
Annoyance
and
Anticipation.

LOVE YA!
Kirstyn.

Blog (Numero dos)

Has anyone else realized that blogging is becoming suuuuper boring?


I remember when blogging used to be fun and exciting. I'd change my background like every other day and add new gadgets all the time. I'd go through the whole day looking for something to blog about. I remember thinking "Oh, gee. I can't wait to get home and blog." It was the highlight of my day.


Now it's become so tedious. My thoughts are more like "Crap. I should really blog tonight." But the honest truth is I really don't feel like it anymore. I was trying to come up with ideas to start an entirely new blog.


I thought that that would get me more into it again. This became problematic when I wouldn't even begin to think of new ideas. I'd tell myself to think of something, but I wouldn't even try.


So new plan. I'm just going to sit here and type whatever the crap I feel like. On this blog. Right here. Right now.


Actually, it will probably in my next blog considering I already kind of have a topic for this one. Which is how much I don't want to be writing this blog. Funny how it all connects.


Anywho....





Here's yet another reason to hate ole GW.


Night, folks!

Hot Dog!

Okay, so on Monday February 28th I got a tooth pulled. I could barely open my mouth or talk or anything. I get home and am just sitting in my living room. My mom does daycare so there were kids running all around me. As lunch time approached, a wonderful smell filled my nostrils. HOT DOGS.


Now normally, I'm not that big of a hot dog fan. I like them and all, but they wouldn't be my first choice most of the time. This day was different. My jaw was all bruised, numb and bleeding. I couldn't eat anything solid. All I'd eaten was apple sauce and yogurt. Let me just tell you; fruit does not sate hunger. It just doesn't work like that.


So I'm sitting there in utter agony aching for a hot dog. I thought about it for like three days after that. Then one day for school lunch we had "chili" dogs. Hot dogs with chili sauce. They're gross. However, we had the option of getting a hot dog without chili sauce. And thus, I got a hot dog!!!! 


It was amazing. I haven't really wanted one ever since. Then yesterday in lunch, Maci, Tyler, Kayleah and I were eating lunch in a peaceful manner; the usual round of strange conversations hadn't started yet. We were all focused on our food. Maci all of a sudden looks up from her chicken nuggets and sighs. "I reeeaaally want a hot dog," she exclaimed.


So the unbearable hunger for a hot dog is a contagious disease. We decided we all needed to go on a date to Weiner Works. Maci, Tyler and I wanted to go tonight, but Kayleah has a date. She said she could bring her date with her, but we didn't want one of Kayleah's 3 day ladies there with her one year old baby ruining our night. Maybe this lady will cancel on Kayleah and we can all have HOT DOGS again!


PS: Love you, Kayleah ;)

What a day for a Frog :)

If I was a frog, I would love today.

After a long hard winter of doing whatever frogs do in the winter (I'm no frog expert) I'd finally get to begin hoppin' around again and junk. Even though today is colder than it has been, as a frog I probably wouldn't really mind it so much.

Also, it's supposed to rain again. I think it may have rained a bit this morning, but not enough for me to have noticed. But it did rain the other day, so all of the rivers and stuff are full (or whatever).

Frogs always remind me of my grandma. She used to be a big frog enthusiast. When I was younger she had so much frog stuff. Frog rugs, frog clocks, frog coffee mugs, glass frogs, wooden frogs, metal frogs. She kept all of them in an extra bedroom at her house. Grandmas are notorious for collecting things, but my Grandma Mary was different than most. She would actually let us play with her collection. I remember sitting with Maci in that extra bedroom for hours playing house or dress up or whatever. The frog items were always our main accessories.

As the years passed, she kind of stopped collecting. My grandpa would always tell her that he felt like the house was overrun with frogs. He'd always tell her, "Get that crap out of here, Mary!" She knew he was joking, but nonetheless she asked people not to buy her so much. She threw and gave away a lot of it.

I've never been a big fan of frogs (real or fake) but I love the memories they bring up.

...but I do like Frogger....

Shazzog!

Shazzog is a word I just made up. I think it means..........

I'm sorry. 

Right now I'd like to give a big Shazzog to Kayleah Jean Grob. You see, I was brain storming for ideas to write this here blog about and I might have accidentally called titled it "Hog" and told Kayleah that I was going to write about here. Oops.

So this blog is dedicated to the old days of Sorry or Something... because I finally have some things to apologize for again.

Kayleah and I would like to apologize to none other than Tyler V. Today's conversation during lunch was slightly uncalled for and we'd like to say Shazzog for making him sit through it.

Now a list of people who Kayleah never needs (or needed) to say sorry to:

Chris because...*

Jess because....*

Brianna because....*

*reason too explicit for this blog

Now a list of people I don't need to say sorry to:

Kayleah for not saying congratulations

The play audience for messing up (because it worked out)

Tyler V..... because he's Tyler V.

And thus ends my Shazzog Blog.

SHAZZOG!

D:

NEVER GOOGLE DOG SLAUGHTER

...ever.

Dog.

My grandma just got a new dog. It's really young and a mix between a chihuahua and a wiener dog. I haven't seen is yet, but I'm told it can fit in the palm of your hand. Wyatt knows. He was holding it so my mom could take a picture, and it urinated all over him. Ha. Humorous.

I don't really like dogs. They're kind of annoying. They chew on things. And make messes all over the place. And are noisy. And need attention or they go crazy. And run.

I'm more of a cat person. Cats just kind of sit around and sleep. Every once in a while they may cry for food. Other than that, they're pretty independent. They keep all of their messes in contained areas. They're pretty quiet. And they're soft. Also they're way smarter than dogs.

If I were to get a dog, I'd probably name it Señor Chomsky. Just because it's awesome

Or maybe I'd name it Tim Johnson because that's hilarious.( Even if it's the name of a certain Illinois congressman who doesn't tip.)

One time I went into that puppy store in the mall in Champaign and said "dogs are overrated" really loudly. Everyone in the store, including the sales-lady-person gave me a look like they wanted to kill me. I hurriedly left. Talk about awkward..

My other grandma may get a dog....

This has been a random blog of thoughts concerning dogs. Thanks for "listening".

MATH=DEVIL

Monologue.

There are some things you never get used to.

For you it was the unannounced visits from your sisters,

The constant bickering of children.

For me it was your sickness.

How can one be expected to be okay with such a sight?

I can't even remember the last time I saw you before.

Back when no one knew.

Back when you were a healthy, lively man.

What was the last thing we spoke about?

I wish I'd taken care to remember.

But how was I to know it would be one of our last?

And then we knew you were sick.

But how were we to know just how sick?

Meningitis, they said.

It should pass.

But soon there we were.

Even then things seemed normal.

You sat at your computer and played poker as always.

The severity sank in with your face. 

Then I knew. 

I was strong then.

We all tried to be optimistic around you.

I didn't allow myself to show weakness.

Not even when I was alone.

But last night was different.

I've never witnessed the family so sad.

I walked into your living room.

And there you were.

Laying in your chair as always.

But you weren't really there anymore, were you?

That had stopped being you a long time ago.

I don't even know who all's shoulder's I cried on.

We were all one.

And at the end, I kissed you one last time.

But that wasn't you.

It was a shell.

They took your body.

They'll clean it up and try to make you look like you.

But you won't look like you ever again.

They can't possibly replicate the visions I have of you in my mind.

You: sitting in your pool. driving across the country. cracking jokes.

smoking what caused it all.

They'll do their best.

But I'll never forget that feeling of kissing you.

Your cold skin on my lips.

Where did you go?

Where are you now?

Please come back.

The trouble with jogging is that the ice falls out of your glass...

Jogging is weird. It's like running... only not.

How curious.

You should know what jog means, but on the off chance that you do not, here is a definitions straight from dictionary.com:

to run at a leisurely, slow pace, especially as an outdoor exercise

So I decided to look up jog on urbandictionary.com to see if there were any hip new meanings of the word that I was not aware of. There are. However, most of them are not school appropriate. Alas.

You know what I don't understand? My dad "runs" marathons. But he's not actually running. He calls it pacing himself. Psshhk. Most people do not run marathons. They jog them. You know why? Because running, actually running 26.2 miles would SUCK.

Anyway, when I jog, I don't feel "leisurely". I feel like I'm running, only it's taking me longer to get where I'm going. And it sucks. But I have decided that once it gets slightly warmer out, I will attempt some kind of physical exercise. Santa got me new tennis shoes for Christmas, so I guess I'm going to start with jogging. It would be sooo cool if I didn't die.

Whoever made this is my kind of guy.

AND NOW I WILL GO NOT DO MY MATH HOMEWORK BECAUSE I ALREADY FINISHED IT :D

SMOG

Smog makes me feel like this: ●︿●

As defined by dictionary.com, smog is smoke or other atmospheric pollutants combined with fog in an unhealthy or irritating mixture.

I'm so glad that I don't live in an area where smog is a major problem. Smog occurs mainly in large, urban areas with many vehicles. Car exhaust makes up the bulk of smog in places like Las Angeles and New York City.

It sucks, though, because no matter where you live on this planet, smog is affecting you. This is because smog, along with other green house gases, gets trapped in the atmosphere. With all of these pollutants in the air, the heat that the sun emits cannot get out. GASP!! And this causes...

Gahhh!! Oh no!!!

Smog causes global warming. You cause smog. You cause global warming. SEEEE?!

Luckily for you, there are some things you can do to stop killing Earth. For instance, drive a car with better gas mileage. Or, you could get up off your lazy butt and walk or ride a bike some places. Just a suggestion.

Now I'm going to go do my math

because my boyfriend is making me

☠

What Kayleah said.

I looked in the mirror this morning and was like "Dang. I am one sexy beast".

Does a word rhyme with itself?

This is my new blog.

It's not my old blog.

Does this rhyme?.. I really don't know, but for the purpose of this post, let's just say it does.

BLOG.

Here's a short history of my blogging career. My first ever blog is called Sorry or something. (You probably already know this considering I'm going to guess that about 93% of the people reading this are in my writing class and the remaining 7% are Miss Fultz.) Despite its immense popularity, I decided that I hate saying sorry because it involves admitting you did something wrong. Thus, this new blog was born. Yippee!

So. What in the world is a blog? I just looked it up on dictionary.com. Apparently, "blog" is actually not the full word for this thing I'm posting; it is short for "weblog". Whaaat? I guess this makes sense. Anyway, a blog, as defined by dictionary.com, is "a journal written on-line and accessible to users of the internet". Hmm.. interesting.

Another definition of a blog on dictionary.com is an on-line diary. So am I expected to right about my "feelings" or something on here? (For the record it just took me a total of 5 times to correctly type the word "here".) Here's how blogs make me feel:  ಠ_ಠ

In conclusion, here's a cool picture I found when I typed "blog" in to Google Images:

NOW IT'S TIME FOR ME TO SLEEP AND NOT DO MY MATH HOMEWORK.