STOPPED CORECTING SPELING!

Blogs are brilliant. Just saying...

Blogs give you a place to rant, to rave, to have an opinion (even if no one cares0, they give you a place to VENT!
Can you guess what's coming?

I think my teachers are in a gang. All of them. Like in the same gang. Their goal: to destroy my social life.
Now hold up Becky, you say. You have a social life?
Exactly. This is my point!
All my teachers will PILE ON THE HOMEWORK for one week, we have projects, test, assignments, and heaps of homework in every subject imaginable, and then the next week...I'm so bored I read multiple novels, write poetry, and communicate with the living (not that I've ever communicated with the non-living, it's just I'll have been a hermit the week before). I come out of my dark cave of a basement room, blinking confusedly at the sunlight, gasp in delight as I see the snow is gone and run outside without a jacket (only to find that I do live in Winnipeg and wind is cold).
See, no life.

This is one of THOSE weeks. Not the nice lazy oh-sun-exists? weeks, one of the JUST-KILL-ME-NOW-AND-GET-IT-OVER-WITH-I-WON'T-MAKE-IT-THROUGH-THE-WEEK-ANYWAY! weeks.
Ya. Basically.

See I'll give you an example, I have two tests this week, two infront-of-the-class-with-a-powerpoint presentations (one being a 40 minute long one) an massive ELA project due, an ELA book to read, questions to answer on the ELA book, observations to write down on the ELA book, homework in every subject in addition to the above-said insanity, I've been up past midnight every night for the past week and I'm working next Saturday so I can't catch up on sleep then AND I'M BEING MEAN TO MY SIBLINGS!
Though I doubt you're surprised at that last bit.
Hey I'd like to see you be in my place during a JUST-KILL-ME-NOW-AND-GET-IT-OVER-WITH-I-WON'T-MAKE-IT-THROUGH-THE-WEEK-ANYWAY! week. Seriously? Want to trade places for a week? Call me okay, we'll arrange something!

Thankfully next week is a three-day school week so in the possibility of me surviving this week, next week should be easier and with Thursday and Friday off (and I'm not working that Saturday!), I should catch up on some MUCH NEEDED sleep.

I'm using a lot of caps this blog arn't I?
I can't spell iehter. I left those mistakes in after correcting about a million, just to prove to you i can't spell.
Can you tell I'm stressed? I'm not even correcting speling!
Oh deer.

I'd beter go stduy.
Bye.

Spring Poetry!

I have 47 days of high school left. Ever. This is so weird...

Since I've been unpoetic all of March I must make up for it in April. Spring is mostly here for some of the time and I like it. (I got a little scared when yesterday's rain morphed into snow but it didn't last,thank goodness!)

Spring (written March 31, 2011)

The twentieth of March is not the first day of Spring
That is to say, not always the day on which it does begin
Spring cannot be assigned a day on which it must occur
It starts in parts, in parts it starts
The coming of the Spring

In dirty snow, the roadway's slush
Through frozen puddles of frozen mush
The dreary grime, so grey and bleak
Here starts a part, the parts do start
The coming of the Spring

The icicles drip and puddles melt
Grey clouds gather, drops are felt
Away the dirt, the soot, the grime
Here start more parts, the parts do start
The coming of the Spring

Through patchy snow peeks yellow grass
Overnight puddles freeze, smooth as glass
Sun reappears and shares her warmth
Here starts a part, the parts do start
The coming of the Spring

Snow's gone to stay and grass grown green
The streets are once more clear and clean
In flowerbeds the plants now bloom
Here are the parts, these parts there are
And now has come the Spring

See any Vashta Nerada lately?

Some of you may know, some of you may not, but I am a massive nerd. Sci-fi, fantasy... love the stuff. Currently my top favorites are both British TV shows (because everything British is the best). Primeval is about rips in time opening and the team who has to fight and contain the creatures (mainly dinosaurs) that come through the "anomalies". Doctor Who is about a time traveling alien who travels in a Blue Police Box/Time Machine/ TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space) saving the earth and other planets. See when using words the things I am excited about sound so far fetched and almost stupid in their impossibility, but when I'm watching the television shows anything can happen! Aliens can attack earth! G-rexes can come running into airports! Daleks don't ever die as much as you want them too! You start to count shadows because if there is one too many you could have one of the Vashta Nerada stalking you! Things change in television, impossible is possible. I think that is what I like so much about sci-fi and fantasy novels and TV shows, they're so impossible they seem real when you use you're imagination. I always loved imagination, pretending, its probably why I enjoy acting so much; you can be someone you're not in situations that are not your own and its SO MUCH FUN!

I tend to get very attached to characters though, and then when they die or leave I tend to cry. This makes Doctor Who a hard show for me. As (I expect) very few of you know, the Doctor is an alien and when he is about to die he body fixes itself by rewriting all the genes in his physical body. The Doctor becomes a new person with the same memory, brain, smarts, etc but a totally new face/body/look. To achieve this, the actor for the Doctor changes every few seasons. Today I said "goodbye" to David Tennant as the tenth doctor and "met" Matt Smith as the eleventh. David is totally my favorite but Matt's not bad. Primeval doesn't have as much of that, though it does kill of people, I mean come on! working with dinosaurs is dangerous! In books I cry too when characters die or leave. Using my imagination I think I get so attached to them, I feel as though I'm part of the story, when they leave, it's like a close friend has left or died; it's sad.

Is that weird? Am I just REALLY nerdy and weird or do other people get attached to fictional characters? I kinda hope for my sake that you do, I don't want to be THAT weird, but if I am...oh well ;D

Once more this has been a completely unpoetic post. Sorry, may fix that later. Maybe.

I Know Naught About Protein Powder

So I've honestly been meaning to post something up here for...well since I last posted something up here! The problem is I've been extraordinarily uninspired. I couldn't write a poem for the life of me even if I had been able to think of a topic (which I couldn't) so here is a post about my uneventful life seeing as I have no poems.

I'm sick. As in ill, not as in... nevermind, moving on. I have this evil cold thing that all but prevents breathing (though I swear if it could stop me breathing, it would). I have these nasty headaches (not useful when you have three tests in a two day time frame) and my voice is mostly gone. I sound like a creepy old dude. But my voice is too high for a dude...whatever, I sound, in the words of a grade two kid (and I quote) "like a adult person". Who knows what that means...kids say the darndest things :)

Enough about illness, it’s depressing! Let’s move onto my social life.
... ... ...
There we covered my social life!
Seriously though, massive lack of social life going on right now, I am so pumped that spring break has begun! No tests or daily homework due! (though I do have multiple projects due at the other end of the break... :S NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT)

As some of you may know, I have a...unusual job? I'm a janitor. I work at my church on the weekend cleaning things. fun. Anyway I've been doing this for seven months now and I was the only girl janitor (first girl janitor too) and I'm the only high schooler. I've been working with guys for seven months. Do you know what that does to your brain? Nothing, it means you turn your iPod up and don't talk for eight hours. Not talking is hard people! but I don't know anything about protein powder or bench pressing so iPod is the best I got! Anyway, THEY HIRED ANOTHER GIRL JANITOR! I gotta say, I was pretty excited, but kinda worried. I figured, you know, she knows she's going to be a janitor, she better not be ditzy, or lazy, or have problems with cleaning urinals! (I'm not going to do them every week!). We worked together for the first time on Saturday. It was the best workday I have ever worked in my life. She wasn't ditzy or lazy or scared of the boys' bathroom and though three years older than me, we talked, and talked, and talked and still finished all our work and all the extra work with forty minutes to spare. Girls are pro at multitasking. (That's one thing I didn't like about working with guys, as soon as they start talking, they stop working and then they just talk for like five minutes without doing any work while you're kinda talking to them and doing all your work like normal. Guys can't multitask.) Anyway, in one day I know my new co-worker better than the guy I've been working with for seven months. We finished early proving that strength was not an issue when setting out 300 chairs for a Sunday morning and putting out the substage, we set up, started and ran the machinery and we raised the bar at work. I think work just got more fun!

I can't think of anything else to write right now so cheers!
(Hopefully I'll write some more over spring break!)
Becky.

Rose

Don't know what inspired this poem. Maybe the weird dream I had last night...

Rose (February 22, 2011)

Long, dark corridors
Silent, stifled night
Tall, arched ceilings
Dimmed chandelier light

Large oak doors,
Lining every wall
Not a single creak,
From a door in the hall

Dark, shadowed room,
Large beyond compare
Roof’s too high to see,
It must be somewhere in the air

Four-poster bed,
Only thing in the room
On tall carved posts,
Flower buds that never bloom

Tall, narrow windows,
Made to look out, not to open
Here stands Rose,
Always waiting, always hoping

One day soon the Prince will come
The rooms will brighten, here dawns the sun
No longer in her prison hide,
To Rose locked doors will be flung wide

Long, dark corridors,
Dark, shadowed room
Here stands Rose,
In the light of the moon

Dead Beaver

I recently bought the hat I am pictured wearing. I bought it 80% off (totaling to $6). Very excited I showed my new possession (that I got ON SALE!) to my friend who promptly informed me that it looked like a dead beaver. Everyone so far has agreed that it does so that hat has been nick-named, "The Dead Beaver" (it's not even real fur people...lol)
Here, in honor of my hat, is a new poem.

Dead Beaver - February 15, 2011

Fuzzy and warm
Brown and soft
Flying bobbles
Dead Beaver

Fake fur
Six dollars
On sale
Dead beaver

Arctic toque
Epic hat
Softest headgear
Dead Beaver

Bobble broke
Now is fixed
Never to break off
Dead Beaver

Favorite thing
Will wear forever
Never to loose
Dead Beaver


Happy Flag Day Canadian people!

PS - Don't you think lines of miniature beavers should border the Canadian flag...? That would be VERY Canadian...
PPS - Yes, in the picture I have an upsidedown, temporary, Canadian red maple leaf tattoo on each wrist.

Book-lover

If you don't know already, I'm a big fan of books and have a lot of them, 176 in fact.

176 (written January 18, 2011)

One, seven, six
One, seventy-six
One hundred and seventy-six
Books on my shelf

One, seven, six
Book are my fix
When all by myself
I turn to books on my shelf
One, seven, six

One, seventy-six
My books do not mix
With two candles on the ledge
Staying far from the edge
One, seventy-six

One hundred and seventy-six
Books of friends or schools or tricks
From my mum and her mum's hoard
With these books I'll never be bored
One hundred and seventy-six