Soooooooo the other day I went to rehearsal with my dad and (no offense) but I didn't really have much to do. . . So I ripped a piece of notebook paper away from my binder and just kinda began writing. Afterwards, I became my same ole' OCD self and went through and edited it like crazy. . . O.O' I'm gonna post a picture, when I become all energetic and want to do something like that. So edited and all that jazz, here is kind of a weird little excerpt from the story To Whom it May Concern ;D
As we arrived in the hospital I felt ready to hit something. It didn't seem fair Char and I walked away with only sprains and bruises while Maddox was almost turned inside out. The doctors had rushed my little sister back to an operating room and dumped Char and me into one of those small rooms that has the annoying curtain. You know, the ones with those cheerful little ducky and kitten prints, trying to make you perky but nothing about an E.R. was never perky. Though, our curtain was slightly ajar, and I could peer from the bed and watch the nurses that rushed past. It slightly offended me, for they acted like we weren't even there! The two teenage girls who had just escaped death.
Char's voice jarred me from my thoughts. She had walked into the room, and I was somewhat guilty for not even realizing she had left. "Mom and Dad are on their way."
That certainly grabbed my attention, "Are they close? Do they know about Maddox? Are they mad?" Sighing, Char slumped down in the lumpy bed next to mine and rubbed a bandage that had been wrapped around her hand to stop it from bleeding anymore.
"Yes, no, and furious."
That was the moment I began to sob. It wasn't because I feared my parents, but it seemed to be the only time I was allowed to cry. I had been trying to be strong through it all, and show my sister I was mature enough to handle the whole ordeal. Flinging myself into Charrollette's arms, I cried and wailed until. . . well, I can't really remember.
It took around nine minutes for our parents to get there. I had to tell my Mother what had happened to us because Char and Dad had gone to see how Maddox was fairing. Mom dumped her heavy purse onto a tiny nightstand table and dumped herself into a chair. I don't think she could even glance at me until I was done, because I had blood matted in my hair, my wrist was sprained and I had bruises covering my entire body.
I must admit, I watered down the accident a little. I didn't tell her about when we flew, head on, into the stop sign the blue Kia had refused to stop at. Her mouth widened with every word that slipped from my mouth, and once I had finished, it was as large as the Grand Canyon.
"Oh, Thalie. . . ." She continued to mumble throughout my tellings. Once I was done, her green eyes collided with my blue ones, sorrow and sadness dancing through her pupils. Though, it was suddenly replace with something I had never seen from her in my entire life. Fire.
It was frightening, and I was so thankful when my father and sister walked in. I wouldn't be for long.
His eyes were red. Her eyes were puffy. No.
The doctor fumbled in. My father collapsed into a chair and broke down in tears. No!
The doctor mumbled words my ears refused to listen to, but there were three that assaulted them anyway.
"Maddox is dead."
Spinning. Crumbling. Falling. Sobbing. Weeping. Screaming. Punching. Begging. Pleading. Pacing. Kicking. Holding. Praying. Blackness.
Okay, so I know the very last part doesn't make much sense with the whole -ing words and then the random: Blackness. It's because Thalie blacks out after doing all those things. I plan on changing the words so there are three for each stage of grief. It's kinda confusing, but insted of going on to the last stage, accepting, Thalie's mother stops at anger. Thats what causes them to move and so on and so forth ;)
There you have it, some of my latest writings and other things that I am to tired to go into further detail with.
LIVI WAS HERE
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Books, Coffee, and Neal Shusterman
I decided to share with you all an amazing bookstore/coffeeshop thingy today me and my dad found called Hardback Cafe. It is my new alltime favorite bookstore because they had ANTSY DOES TIME written by the AMAZING Neal Shusterman. Now I have read:
It was fantabulous as my BBF would put it, with the three main characters running for their lives trying to stay alive. No. Not alive. In their own state of mind. They are running from being "unwound", where parents can have their unwanted teenagers be taken apart peice by peice and donated to sick patients. Oh my goodness that book was amazing. I'm gonna stop now because I will probably tell the entire book chapter by chapter if I continue. . .
Afterwards, I read Bruiser. That honestly might be my favorite Neal Shusterman book because of the poetry. Brewster seems like the horrid person through Tennyson's POV, but once it changes to Brewster's, you will sob loudly into your pillow. I love the way he describes the cafeteria as high schoolers practicing the art of preening and grooming one another. When his uncle hits Cody, but the pain goes to the Bruiser I was so prepared to leap into the story and drag those poor people out! Anyway, if you could only read one book in your entire life, this one better be it.
Now I am being thrashed about through Full Tilt, an incredible novel by the amazing Neal Shusterman, about a boy named Blake who's soul was thrust into- well. You'll have to read it first.
- Everlost
- Everwild
- Everfound
- Bruiser
- Unwind
- Downsiders
- The Eyes of Kid Midas
- (Halfway through) Full Tilt
- (Got this one along with Antsy) Speeding Bullet
- The Schwa Was Here
It was fantabulous as my BBF would put it, with the three main characters running for their lives trying to stay alive. No. Not alive. In their own state of mind. They are running from being "unwound", where parents can have their unwanted teenagers be taken apart peice by peice and donated to sick patients. Oh my goodness that book was amazing. I'm gonna stop now because I will probably tell the entire book chapter by chapter if I continue. . .
Afterwards, I read Bruiser. That honestly might be my favorite Neal Shusterman book because of the poetry. Brewster seems like the horrid person through Tennyson's POV, but once it changes to Brewster's, you will sob loudly into your pillow. I love the way he describes the cafeteria as high schoolers practicing the art of preening and grooming one another. When his uncle hits Cody, but the pain goes to the Bruiser I was so prepared to leap into the story and drag those poor people out! Anyway, if you could only read one book in your entire life, this one better be it.
Now I am being thrashed about through Full Tilt, an incredible novel by the amazing Neal Shusterman, about a boy named Blake who's soul was thrust into- well. You'll have to read it first.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Writing!!
Alright, I came up with a short story (one page long) right before our math exams in December. It's in third person, because as I told you I don't really like writing in first person. It's really only titled EXAMS, and Meloni is me. It's kinda a stupid name but only because I wrote it in maybe five or ten minutes. ;D Here you go:
Exams
Tapping her pencil eagerly, Meloni sat shivering in her chair. The nerves rolled off her in waves and she twirled her hair throughout her fingers.
When Mrs. Baker began to pass out the thick packets, her nerves began to cede. Landing with a heavy THUMP on the desk was the item she had been dreading for two months. MATH it read, in bold and underlined letters. "Could they make it anymore obvious?" she mumbled to her shoes clicking together under the black table.
"Begin." The principal crackled into the over head speaker.
Flipping her test over and diving head first into algebra hadn't been as hard as Meloni had thought it would be. The problems were a whole grade-level easier than the long order of operations given to her at home by her Dad.
Getting the results back was fun-filled and easy going Getting a 92% was much better than Meloni expected herself to get, but the speaker crackled to life once more, "Next up, Social Studies!"
Alright that's it, and it was only one page long, so it wasn't all that impressive. Not as much detail as I usually would like to get into a story I've written, but oh well. Written in five minutes!! ;D Next up is only an idea I came up with about three days ago in Market Street. . . . I'm gonna call it To Whom it May Concern, kinda like the song by The Civil Wars.
To Whom it May Concern
Nathalia (Referred to as Thalie) and her sisters Charrollette (Char) and Maddox get in a car accident. Her youngest sister, Maddox, age six, passes away even before they can reach a hospital. Thalie and Char's mother goes bonkers and cannot handle it whatsoever. She ups her family and moves them across the country to Oregon in an already furnished home. (She left all of their belongings in New Jersey, where they had lived)
Thalie finds a desk in her room with a few belongings of the family that lived in the house before them. She realizes a girl her age had lived before her in the house, and finds an envelope in chicken scratch handwriting labeled: "To Whom it May Concern". Pulling it open, all inside of it is a key. She checks all the doors in the house and finds that the key doesn't fit into any of the key holes. She gives up and tosses the key back onto the desk. Though, not long after she finds a bookcase with many classics and a worn leather book resting on its top shelf. She picks up the leather book and realizes there is a key hole in the side and the book is labeled: "To Whom it May Concern". The key fits, and finds its a diary written by a girl named Keller, who's sister was murdered but her case was never solved. Thalie and Char go on an adventure to unravel the mystery behind Keller's sister's murder.
There you have it! PLease give me suggestions for Keller's sister's name, because I have no idea what it should be XD
Thanks for reading!!!!
Exams
Tapping her pencil eagerly, Meloni sat shivering in her chair. The nerves rolled off her in waves and she twirled her hair throughout her fingers.
When Mrs. Baker began to pass out the thick packets, her nerves began to cede. Landing with a heavy THUMP on the desk was the item she had been dreading for two months. MATH it read, in bold and underlined letters. "Could they make it anymore obvious?" she mumbled to her shoes clicking together under the black table.
"Begin." The principal crackled into the over head speaker.
Flipping her test over and diving head first into algebra hadn't been as hard as Meloni had thought it would be. The problems were a whole grade-level easier than the long order of operations given to her at home by her Dad.
Getting the results back was fun-filled and easy going Getting a 92% was much better than Meloni expected herself to get, but the speaker crackled to life once more, "Next up, Social Studies!"
Alright that's it, and it was only one page long, so it wasn't all that impressive. Not as much detail as I usually would like to get into a story I've written, but oh well. Written in five minutes!! ;D Next up is only an idea I came up with about three days ago in Market Street. . . . I'm gonna call it To Whom it May Concern, kinda like the song by The Civil Wars.
To Whom it May Concern
Nathalia (Referred to as Thalie) and her sisters Charrollette (Char) and Maddox get in a car accident. Her youngest sister, Maddox, age six, passes away even before they can reach a hospital. Thalie and Char's mother goes bonkers and cannot handle it whatsoever. She ups her family and moves them across the country to Oregon in an already furnished home. (She left all of their belongings in New Jersey, where they had lived)
Thalie finds a desk in her room with a few belongings of the family that lived in the house before them. She realizes a girl her age had lived before her in the house, and finds an envelope in chicken scratch handwriting labeled: "To Whom it May Concern". Pulling it open, all inside of it is a key. She checks all the doors in the house and finds that the key doesn't fit into any of the key holes. She gives up and tosses the key back onto the desk. Though, not long after she finds a bookcase with many classics and a worn leather book resting on its top shelf. She picks up the leather book and realizes there is a key hole in the side and the book is labeled: "To Whom it May Concern". The key fits, and finds its a diary written by a girl named Keller, who's sister was murdered but her case was never solved. Thalie and Char go on an adventure to unravel the mystery behind Keller's sister's murder.
There you have it! PLease give me suggestions for Keller's sister's name, because I have no idea what it should be XD
Thanks for reading!!!!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Dancing is something I discovered last year in sixth grade. At first I was VERY skeptic, because when I was younger I absolutely despised dance. But, because my principal couldn't fit CA (Competitive Athletics) into my schedule, I figured dance was the next best thing. I got all the things I would need (very unhappy it was all black might I add) and I borded the bus for eigth period every day that year. I knew I would hate it from the start, but I kept my feelings to myself and prepared to dress out every day.
Boy, was I wrong?! I met so many amazing new people, and we all had SO much fun! I thought, 'It could not get any bette than this!' Wrong again. I discovered something called Dance Troupe, an extra-ciricular dance class with our same teacher for seventh and eigth graders. Me and many of my friends decided to audition at the end of the year, wanting to have even more time together after school and to get a chance to preform for our friends at pep rallies.
The auditions were in April, and it was two days long. The first day we learned the dance, the second we auditioned with the dance and showed the judges kicks, chaines, pirohuettes, and other stuff I probably won't be able to spell correctly. It was hard, but in my group I was with my friend Channing and two girls from Hutch (BOO!!) I didn't know. Nervous, with my knees knocking, I hustled in there, unsuccessfully tried to do a double pirohuette, did an alright axel (being taught it the day before by my Annie choreographer, Kyla!), and did some pretty beast right leaps.
"The list," my dance teacher told the mass of girls, sweating in their leotards and tights, "will be posted tonight at about nine on the door of the studio. There will be 12 to 18 girls accepted." A nervous murmur swept across the room like a wave. We nodded and drew numbers from a hat, deciding what order we would go in. At first I got 42. I shook my head and told my dance teacher, "I have rehearsal for Annie. I need a lower number if I want to make it on time." She laughed and hand picked the number nine. Which was great, because my lucky number is 8.
So anyway, I got in (freaking out in the process) and this week we are doing two preformances. One is at the eigth grade boys basketball game on Monday, and the other is at our Magnet Open house! (Both are at OL if you want to come see either one!) We have a very challenging dance to learn, but we finished it on Tuesday and today we got our spots. Of course, all of us wanted to know where we were, and could hardly stand it until our teacher told us to line up how she told her. You see, I love this dance, and I wanted SO badly to be able to do a toe touch at the beginning of a dance. Our teacher told us a bit of good news though, "Because you all were very confident in our audition for your spots, you all get to do toe touches!" HUZZAH!
So yeah, we do some really EPIC stuff in that dance, but I won't tell you because I want my parents to be suprised when they watch it at the basketball game on Monday.
Thanks for reading!
Livi
PS: Next post will be some more writing. A one page paper I did to let out how nervous I was before the semester tests last year. But it's not in first person POV. I hate first person. Wait. I'm using it right now. Nevermind.
Boy, was I wrong?! I met so many amazing new people, and we all had SO much fun! I thought, 'It could not get any bette than this!' Wrong again. I discovered something called Dance Troupe, an extra-ciricular dance class with our same teacher for seventh and eigth graders. Me and many of my friends decided to audition at the end of the year, wanting to have even more time together after school and to get a chance to preform for our friends at pep rallies.
The auditions were in April, and it was two days long. The first day we learned the dance, the second we auditioned with the dance and showed the judges kicks, chaines, pirohuettes, and other stuff I probably won't be able to spell correctly. It was hard, but in my group I was with my friend Channing and two girls from Hutch (BOO!!) I didn't know. Nervous, with my knees knocking, I hustled in there, unsuccessfully tried to do a double pirohuette, did an alright axel (being taught it the day before by my Annie choreographer, Kyla!), and did some pretty beast right leaps.
"The list," my dance teacher told the mass of girls, sweating in their leotards and tights, "will be posted tonight at about nine on the door of the studio. There will be 12 to 18 girls accepted." A nervous murmur swept across the room like a wave. We nodded and drew numbers from a hat, deciding what order we would go in. At first I got 42. I shook my head and told my dance teacher, "I have rehearsal for Annie. I need a lower number if I want to make it on time." She laughed and hand picked the number nine. Which was great, because my lucky number is 8.
So anyway, I got in (freaking out in the process) and this week we are doing two preformances. One is at the eigth grade boys basketball game on Monday, and the other is at our Magnet Open house! (Both are at OL if you want to come see either one!) We have a very challenging dance to learn, but we finished it on Tuesday and today we got our spots. Of course, all of us wanted to know where we were, and could hardly stand it until our teacher told us to line up how she told her. You see, I love this dance, and I wanted SO badly to be able to do a toe touch at the beginning of a dance. Our teacher told us a bit of good news though, "Because you all were very confident in our audition for your spots, you all get to do toe touches!" HUZZAH!
So yeah, we do some really EPIC stuff in that dance, but I won't tell you because I want my parents to be suprised when they watch it at the basketball game on Monday.
Thanks for reading!
Livi
PS: Next post will be some more writing. A one page paper I did to let out how nervous I was before the semester tests last year. But it's not in first person POV. I hate first person. Wait. I'm using it right now. Nevermind.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
My Night with the Werewolf
How many of you have a little brother or sister? I have a little brother, and his name is Aidan. He is six years old, and can be the biggest pain in the world. But he can also be the smartest and sweetest little boy ever. Tonight was one of those nights! We went out and got Domino's pizza, and he and I sat in the car while our mom was inside getting it all. He told me he was a werewolf and that his immortal enemy were vampires. I suppressed laughter and responded eagerly, "But... I AM a vampire!"
He said back, matter-of-factly, "No, Sissy. Vampire's have white faces and red eyes. And I've never seen you at any vampire conventions." We continued to bicker all throughout the car ride home, and I was laughing hysterically on the inside. Oh, but it didn't stop there!
When we got home, my mom told us to grab some pizza and do our homework. I got two pieces and he got one, he pulled out spelling while I pulled out probabilities, angles, and fractions. Then the discussion began. Honestly I have NO idea how it started, but I was trying to teach him how to multiply. He looked at me and rolled his eyes (it was HILARIOUS because he had pizza and Big Red smeared all over his face), "Sissy. I don't know HOW to do multiplickacation." I smiled, and we began to work again. He continued to tell me how much he enjoyed math, so I asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up.
"I want to be a police man." Aidan said, keeping his head lowered so he could continue studying his spelling words.
"If you couldn't be a police man what would you be?"
"I wouldn't be anything. Because police mans get to shoot guys, electrify them, and save the world from villains. If I couldn't be a police man I wouldn't do anything. Being a police man is the job of my life. But if I got shot, my days would be numbered." He looked down at his work, but quickly looked back up. With his red mustache from his drink he whispered to me, "What does 'my days are numbered' mean?"
I giggled then asked him another question, "How was school today?"
"Good."
"Gimme details."
"Okay. Um. What are details again?"
That is pretty much my night with my little brother. Even though sometimes I am entirely prepared to throw him out a window, he's always there to talk to. If you are constantly fighting with a little sibling, I suggest talking to them over dinner or something like that. Not only because you want to be nice and good to them, also so you can go blog about it for entertainment purposes ;)
He said back, matter-of-factly, "No, Sissy. Vampire's have white faces and red eyes. And I've never seen you at any vampire conventions." We continued to bicker all throughout the car ride home, and I was laughing hysterically on the inside. Oh, but it didn't stop there!
When we got home, my mom told us to grab some pizza and do our homework. I got two pieces and he got one, he pulled out spelling while I pulled out probabilities, angles, and fractions. Then the discussion began. Honestly I have NO idea how it started, but I was trying to teach him how to multiply. He looked at me and rolled his eyes (it was HILARIOUS because he had pizza and Big Red smeared all over his face), "Sissy. I don't know HOW to do multiplickacation." I smiled, and we began to work again. He continued to tell me how much he enjoyed math, so I asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up.
"I want to be a police man." Aidan said, keeping his head lowered so he could continue studying his spelling words.
"If you couldn't be a police man what would you be?"
"I wouldn't be anything. Because police mans get to shoot guys, electrify them, and save the world from villains. If I couldn't be a police man I wouldn't do anything. Being a police man is the job of my life. But if I got shot, my days would be numbered." He looked down at his work, but quickly looked back up. With his red mustache from his drink he whispered to me, "What does 'my days are numbered' mean?"
I giggled then asked him another question, "How was school today?"
"Good."
"Gimme details."
"Okay. Um. What are details again?"
That is pretty much my night with my little brother. Even though sometimes I am entirely prepared to throw him out a window, he's always there to talk to. If you are constantly fighting with a little sibling, I suggest talking to them over dinner or something like that. Not only because you want to be nice and good to them, also so you can go blog about it for entertainment purposes ;)
Monday, January 16, 2012
Poet in the Making
Poetry!! Something I am trying my VERY hardest to get better at ;) Here's a poem I wrote about the summer of 2011! This is the summer we did Annie, and I met my AMAZING "orphans", as we call each other. It's titled The Summer of Our Dreams. I know, kinda cliche, but oh well ;) Here it is: (Feel free to put CONSTRUCTIVE criticism in the little comment box, but please don't put something mean in there that will turn me into a depressed blob ;) )
The Summer of Our Dreams <3
The grass between our toes
The ring around the Rosie
The moonlight bathing the backyard
The campouts and the memories
Running through sprinklers
Leaping from tree to tree
Singing as loud as a mockingbird
Falling into the glassy surface of an empty pool
When we danced until 2 am in the morning.
When we painted our nails and laughed hysterically at nothing.
When we dressed up like celebrities and talked in funny accents
When I found my best friends
When I had the best summer of my life
There ya go!! So as my first writing post on here, I'm pretty proud of it, especially when you consider the fact I wrote it in like maybe 10 minutes. It just kinda popped into my head, and I didn't really edit it, and I also put it in the notes section in my iPod, so please excuse any typos made by auto correct!! Thanks for reading!
The Summer of Our Dreams <3
The grass between our toes
The ring around the Rosie
The moonlight bathing the backyard
The campouts and the memories
Running through sprinklers
Leaping from tree to tree
Singing as loud as a mockingbird
Falling into the glassy surface of an empty pool
When we danced until 2 am in the morning.
When we painted our nails and laughed hysterically at nothing.
When we dressed up like celebrities and talked in funny accents
When I found my best friends
When I had the best summer of my life
There ya go!! So as my first writing post on here, I'm pretty proud of it, especially when you consider the fact I wrote it in like maybe 10 minutes. It just kinda popped into my head, and I didn't really edit it, and I also put it in the notes section in my iPod, so please excuse any typos made by auto correct!! Thanks for reading!
Here we go....
Another thing I like to tell people is that I was born in Virginia, then moved to Kentucky when I was five, and moved to Texas when I was 11. Almost all of my family lives on the east coast, but my Aunt and Uncle and all my cousins live in Dallas, so thankfully we get to see them a lot more often then my grandparents. I also have a lot of friends in Kentucky, mainly my BEST FRIEND Marlowe. Actually, I think we had like three sleepovers in a row three days before I moved, so she was there when I nearly fell off the little ramp thingy that connected the truck to our porch.
 |
| This was our fifth grade graduation |
I have a little brother, he's six, about to be seven in March, and he plays indoor soccer and is about to start up baseball. Speaking of sports, I play basketball. I am on A team for my school! Here's a REALLY bad picture:
This is pretty much my life! My family, my friends, and such! Oh yeah, before I go I want to warn you, I will talk about Neal Shusterman A LOT. He is epic. Nuff said! Thanks for viewing! Happy MLK day!
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