43 Describe taking a standarized test to assess mental health

This is a weird blog topic. I can't say that i've ever taken a standarized test to assess mental health. The thing about standarized tests is that they are supposed to tell what a student knows compared to what everyone in the nation should collectively know. It's based on a nation wide scale, not on the students personal learning experiences. If a test was created to test mental health, it could very well determine that everyone in the nation was mildly crazy. I don't think there is a 'standard' for mental health becasue everyone is different. Also, i don't really think there is a particular state of health that everyone should be in either. Everyone has their own inner demons that they have to deal with every single day. Who knows? Sally might be the most down to earth person you'd ever meet, but underneath, she could be suffering from terrible grief or terrible anxiety. Everyone is different--seriously. Also, i don't even know if there is a particular way to determine someone's mental health. What is the standard? Of cource if you constantly talk to yourself or act crazy all the time then it's natural to assume you're crazy. But how do you measure sanity? I believe i am correct in saying that no one is compltely sane. what is the average reaction to an expereince? Everyone reacts a different way. Also, people have been through different experiences. One person might have gone through a rough childhood, so if someone is yelling at them or putting them under pressure, they might act stiff and unresponsive as instict. Another person might freak out and get really upset. Those are two different responses, both depending on the person's background. If we had a standarized test for mental healthy, we would all be insane. I can already say that i have my own issues. Everyone has their own inner fears. They can try to hide it, but it's there. SOme peopel might not even know they have a problem....

Journal 42

Once there was a hero named Finn the human who lived in the land of Ooo with is best friend Jake the dog. Finn and Jake were the perfect team, and both of them spent their days saving the whimsical characters of Ooo. They were always together, and all  the people in the land of Ooo agreed unanimously that they were the most noble creatures in the entire world. They always tried to do right for people, but sometimes, because they were as close as brothers, they let their emotions get in the way and ended up doing the right things for the wrong reasons.
One day in the land of Ooo, Finn and Jake were going through one of their daily rituals: fighting off the ice king. Though they both knew the Ice king was harmless at most times and his only real weapon was his malice and fighting spirit, they tried to be noble and fight him like they would anyone else.
Finn and Jake were the best at fighting becasue they practiced hard everyday in order to protect the people of Ooo. They were confident in their abilities, and they worked together to fight the Ice King away from the villiage he was tormenting. Their confidence in themselves and their underestimation of the Ice King was their mistake. While chatting in between spars, Jake barely noticed the Ice King drag his body along the ground, and barely felt it when his long spiderly hands grabbed his ankles. He was frozen into a solid block before he could even blink.
"NO!" Finn screamed. He did not plan on killing or imprisoning the ice king for his annoyance to the town, only to wear him out with embarrasement and give him a stern talkng to. But he never thought the Ice King was as serious enough to do somethign such as this.
So Finn vowed to fight the ice king. No longer was he fighting to save the people (though they would benefit) but to fight out of revenge for Ice King hurting his friend.

Journal 41

To me, a hero is someone who does something noble. Someone who does something and makes a difference in people's lives. It ddoesn't have to be a person with any superhuman powers, or someone that people recognize or even notice. Just a regular person who does something honorable. To me, my grandfather Thomas Tyler is a hero. He was never rich, never well-known outside the small town he lived in, and never won any awards for greatness or anything of the sort. But to his clients and friends in Pekin, Illinois, Tom Tyler was a dear friend and someone who changed other people's lives. My grandfather was a barber. Though he's retired, his clients still can recall his hospitatlity, and the comfort they got when entering my grandpa's barber shop. One roomed but for a small bathroom and office, his work station was very humble--but it still seems so vivid in my mind. My Grandpa is one of the most optimistic, most uplifting, and most comforting people i know, and he made people feel better just by chatting with them while giving a short haircut. He'd tell jokes, he'd laugh, he'd catch up with his clients and talk to them of their life. He cheered them up when they were weary, and he picked them up when they were down.His shop matched his personality: Wide open windows, looking at passerby's gently and invivting; walls adorned with funny posters and jokes that got a laugh out of everyone who entered; and though they were old, the barber chairs were worn and smoothed by the family and friends who had gathered there. He never made much money. Supporting a family of 8 on the salary of a barber didn't make you rich. And yet he still continued to go to work everyday with a smile on his face in order to cheer up the clients that walked in. He never started any revolution, never saved someone from drowning, never won any prizes or awards. And yet......he made people feel better. Feel welcomed. Feel wanted. Feel needed. He was a hero of the spirit. By just talking with him, he could save someone from a bad mood and a bad day. He gave people someone to talk to when they needed it. Someone to complain to when they needed to vent. And someone to listen to when they didn't want to talk at all. He was and is a hero in my mind because he made a difference.

Journal 40

Last night I  finished this book called Legend. What can I say about Legend......you could definitely tell it was the author's first book. I was not very  impressed. First of all, the plot was not very original at all. It was pretty much  The Hunger Games combined with Les Miserables combined with a cheesy romance.  Put those three together, and you get legend.  Now, i will admit, to one who hasn't read a wide variety of books like i have, the book would have been really good. The writing was simple and not very descriptive, and i can see how somone who is used to reading teen novels could enjoy it. As for me, I look for a lot more in a book than just the plot. I didn't feel like the book was descriptive enough. The story was told in two different first person points of view, which should have gave the author a good upper hand......but she didn't use it! For example, one of the main characters, Day, apparently lives on the streets and slums. That should have given the author a great opportunity to used descriptive words--to SHOW the reader the desperate living conditions of the character. She didn't do that hardly at all. That's like saying "He lived in a slum." instead of saying "He lived in s slum, and each lungful of air he breathed in was swarming with putrid fog, the poor lined the streets, their clothes tatterd and ripped, as the sun beat down on their bare backs, as flies buzzed around them in hordes of  " etc. etc. description. Seriously. I was sorely dissapointed. She described how each character dressed down to a tee, but didn't bother to thouroughly describe settings. What the heck? I have a good imagination, thank god, but if i didn't i would have had a terrible time trying to imagine what was happening. Another issue was the characters. She went from one to the other waaaay too fast, barely allowing readers to get to even know them. Day, for example, was like a stranger to me throughout the entire book. His character didn't seem very developed. The only strong characteristic she made sure readers understood was that he cared about his family. That was it. I would have liked to know what makes him tick, why he does what he does, how he feel's about what's happening to him, etc. etc. I wanted that so bad and i never got that from this book. I was dissapointed. I mean, it was okay. Exept for the plot seemed like something regurgitated from something else then tweaked a little bit. I kind of felt like i wasted my time.

Journal 39

Spring break. My spring break can in one word be described as a 'break'. It really did feel like i got a great break from school and from stress, and i found it very relaxing (most of the time). My family didn't go anywhere, and i pretty much spent the majority of my time chilling at home and watching my little sisters. Of course they fought a lot, and that was stressfull, but once they settled down everything was really good. Another highlight of my springbreak was that muni practices for the musical Les Miserables began! Monday night from 6:30 to 9:30 was our very first practice and we got to meet the entire cast of the Muni's Les Mis production. It was AMAZING!!!!! We all sang through a couple songs and from the very start i could tell that this production is going to be FANTASTIC. Literally everyone in the cast has a wonderful voice, and the actors are phenominal. It's going to be one of the best shows the Muni will ever produce. I had practice for the rest of the week: Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday and we were off for the weekend. The practices pretty much consist of learning the music scene by scene then blocking the scenes out and plannning how the scene will look to the audience. My favorite scene to watch being blocked was the prolougue scene where the chain gang sings "Look Down". At first everyone wa really goofy and having fun, but once the director announced that they were going to run it for real, everyone got reallly serious and put on their acting faces.It was great. Just plain great. The man who is to play Jean Valjean has a wonderful voice too, and i really enjoyed watching him work through his scenes witht the director. The next night we did the same thing (exept i was more involved). We learned the song At The End of the Day and then the director blocked it out and we did what he called 'roughing it' where we loosely ran through it to get a good visual. The rest of the week was like that, and each night was amazing. The music was just incredible, and we sounded like the soundtrack off of a movie. I've never been involved in a choir/cast this good, and i think that this experience is going to be awesome.

Journal 38

Job Shadowing. So last Thursday I went job shadowing at News Channel 20 in Springfield with Sabrina, and it was quite the interesting experience. We had two sessions--one from 10:00 to 12:00 and the next from 3:30 to 5:30. During the first session, we showed up and went in the entrance area and the receptionist told us that the reporter Rebecca Clark that we were supposed to shadow wasn't actually there that day and wouldn't be at all because she was in Champaign. That was a pretty major set back. Another man came in and told us he would take us back with the other Plain's students shadowing--Daniel Plunket and Michael Campbell. So we were ushered through a long hallway to a workroom with some cubicles where we were introduced to several people in the office. When we first came in, a woman took us and introduced us to some different people. We were introduced to a man named Steve, and he told us about his job. He organized stories and kept up with police scanner and what-not, and also took calls from people who wanted to tip News Channel 20 off for good stories. He was kind, and we talked to him for a while and asked him some questions. Because our job shadow reporter wasn't there, we just kind of passed around to different people who had time to talk to us. After talking with Steve, a pho-tog (photojournalist) took us around the station and intoruduced us to some new people. He showed us his equipment and explained his day, then he took us to the main control room where we met two new guys, one was named Ed Janik. Anyway, we spent a lot of time with them, and they were extremely helpful. They were actually my favorite because they gave some great insight on the different jobs in journalism. After that we got to watch the miday show done live. That, i will admit, was pretty cool. We got to see the studio and see all the cameras and talk to the reporters. Next we talked to another pho-tog who showed us the editing process of the video clips and interviws we see on our own TV's.  After that, our first session was over. So we got a break and then we returned at 3:30. The second session had some plusses and minuses. We got to see Jeremy, the sports reporter, and meet Chantel, another reporter. Chantel let us follow her around the office a bit and explained to us how journalism is a constant press for time. She told us all the things she had to accomplish and the small amount of time she actually had to do them. She was pretty stressed out about this,  but she was nice enough to talk us through it. We got to meet another reporter named Vince. I didn't like him. He kind of 'rubbed me wrong.' There really wasn't a lot to say about him. He didn't impress me and he was kind of overbearing on telling us all the hardships of journalism. He was less than encouraging. Anyway, we ended our visit on a good note. We got to talk to a producer named Michael and he loved his job and was really open and encouraging!

Journal 37

When I hear jazz, I see a restaurant in New Orleans. Because Jazz is best known there, that’s what i think about. I see a huge restaurant, teeming with crowds of people. They keep filing in, and as they do, they marvel at the many happy faces surrounding them. Families and friends lounge in chairs at neat, simple tables, joking and laughing, their mouths wide with smiles. Their clothes are an array of color: Blues, greens, browns, mahogany, bright reds and gold. Women have swooping dresses that gracefully lay on their shoulders, and men have dashing, black slicked suits. The children dress playfully. Little girls wear summer dresses, their feet clicking with little black flats, and young boys wear suspenders, their anxious thumbs pulling on the gleaming straps.  Waiters dance through isles, their hands filled with trays of warm, delicious, steaming food, their hair pulled back in tight buns. The sweet spicy smell of cajun wafts through the air, and people greedily dig into their meals and moan at the wonderful taste. Everyone is moving and lively, and the room is loud with excited talking. The musicians dance and sway to their tunes, their bodies swinging with the jazz in smooth intervals. One of the trumpet players jokes with the crowd. He jumps off the stage, tapping through isles, tip toeing between seats, his feet moving like butter through the swarms of audience members. He stops at one family, a mother and father with their two children, both of them bouncing on the parent’s knees. The children laugh and giggle as he makes funny eyes at them, and his toes click on the tile to the beat of his music. The lead player calls him back, and he turns, smiles through his mouth piece, and makes his way back to the stage. The crowd laughs as the lead player pretends to scold the renegade, and roar as the lead man begins to copy his movements. As the night continues, people leave and more come. They meet up in the street, chortling happily at bumping into each other, and talk above the music and laugher that plays behind them.  Even the moon listens. 

Journal 36

 " Be what you would seem to be. Or, if you would like it put more simply: Never imagine yourself to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what  you had been would have  apperaed to them to be  otherwise."--The Duchess, Alice in Wonderland.  (I know this line off the top of my head becasue i had to memorize it because i'm the Duchess in the play and i thought it was appropriate)  Even though the Duchess makes little to no sense here, the message is still there. Duchess is telling Alice to be herself, which is one of the most important thing you can do. It's really hard to be yourself sometimes because no matter where you are or who your with, you always feel like there is pressure on you. Everyone is afraid of what everyone else thinks of them. It's just a fact. People get scared of judgement, so they try to withold their true selves sometimes to escape embarrasement or the possibility of being disliked by others. The truth of the matter is, if you aren't real with people, then you are lying to them. Everyone does it. If you meet a brand new person, and you want to seem a lot different than how you really are, that is a normal response. But even so, you should do your best to stay 'real' with them and "be what you would seem to be". Be who you are. We all put on a face sometimes. When i meet a stranger, i appear to be shy and modest, when in reality, i'm a lot more energetic than that. But that can't be confused with 'lying' about who you really are. Being yourself also depends on who you are with. If i'm with my family at home, i consider that my true self. With them, i'm comfortable, and i don't care what they think about me because i know they allready love me. That love is permenant, it will always be there. They can hate me for a day, but deep down they still love me the way i am. With other people, there is no 'permanant' love. There is only a judgement of others as they determine if you are the person they want to befriend. As you get to know them, they get more comfortable with you and you bond. Another thing is, if you aren't youreself with someone from the start, and then you suddenly feel like changing, it really tends to freak people out. I'm a very complex person myself, and i have my moods, and my 'personality' changes depending on who i'm with. In one class i'll be kind of quiet or shy if i don't know the people in there as well. But if i'm in a class where i'm very familiar with the people and they're "my kind" of people--or people who i get along with well, then i tend to be a lot more like myself. The person i'm my complete and utter self with is honestly my sister Faith. Faith and i have grown up together. Like, almost every second. I don't remember not having her because we're less than a year apart. Anyway, we've done everything together and gone through the same things. We know eachother so well--so well that if we get in a huge fight, all we have to do is leave eachother alone for a little while, then we come back together and it's like it never happened. We don't have to apologise becasue we knew were both sorry. Anyway, i feel like i'm my complete and utter self with her because i understand that she likes me the way i am. I think everyone should have a friend that they are that close with.

Journal #35

While reading the Declaration of Independence essay i wrote back in September, I noticed  things that i did wrong. As it to my Whitman essay, i came to the conclusion that  my Whitman essay had an  obvious superiority over it. It's crazy! I wrote my Dec. of In. essay back in September, and now it's March, and i beleive i have really improved over this amount of months. First of all, the Dec. Of In. essay was not professional at all. I used the words "me" and "I" throughout, and did not pay attention to the formal writing style in any way, shape, or form. The writing was alright,  and i did have support for my ideas, but it did not have the same feel as my Whitman essay. It's almost like a different person wrote it. That, to me, is an amazing change. Mainly because i remember writing the Dec. of In. essay and i thoguht it was really good. Now i know that it was only amature work. I have improved my writing so much since then. I think that overall reason for this change is practice. Another thing i noticed was that in some places in my Dec. Of In. essay i was not confident. I wasn't being a professional informer. The essay had a feeling of nonchalance. I personally would never use it as a source for information or criticism if i was someone else. I just didn't sound STRONG as i wrote it. Maybe it was lack of passion or a lack of understanding, but i really did notice the difference in the feel of both . The Whitman essay, on the other hand, i believe has more unique wording. It just sounds more right to me. It sounds more professional, and has a different overall feel than the Dec. Of In. essay.Another reason i believe they are different is that i have practiced writing essays over these months and i have learned how to make them better.

Journal 34

I am Tess Tyler. But i am also many other things. I am complex, and i am still trying to find out for myself who i really am. It's hard to find yourself though, when everyone is trying to tell you who you are, or trying to bind you in a box where you're only allowed to be a certain character. Thats why i hate cliques. I want to be who i want to be, not who others think i seem to be, or who they want me to me, or even who they think i am. I want to be who i am, and that's all. It's hard to describe oneself sometimes, rather than describe who you think others think you are. So i'm just going to say who i am, from my point of view. I like to be wanted, and i like to talk to people. I like finding out about them, discovering who they are. Deep conversations are my favorite to have because they can change you. I like feeling close to others, but also being close to myself at the same time. I am reserved. I don't like to advertise what's going on with me all the time, and i think that is perfectly heathy to do. Somethings are better off done with only yourself. I like to laugh, like everyone else, but it means a lot to me when i do. Genuine laughing is probably one of my most favorite things in the entire world, to be honest. I like connecting with people and finding out things we have in common. Sharing feelings and likes and other thigns with someone else is really meaningful to me--i don't take it lightly. I like friendship, though my truest friends are my sisters, and no one else. True friendship is something that is so hard to come by. Everyone somtimes is only looking out for themselves, and i'm not that kind of person. I care about other people. I really do. I'm not just saying that to sound like a saint or something. I actually really do care. Another thing that's important to me is uniqueness. I love it. I am a writer. It's my own personal escape, and i don't show people my writing--only my sister. Its somethign i do because i want to leave a mark, and someday people will be able to read my things, and i'll be able to share something with them that is reallly important to me. My writing is one of my dearest thigns, and i really want to share it with people somday. This blog is not long enough to fully describe myself. There is so much more to me than what is here.

Journal 33

How do i reduce stress and recconect with my myself? Personally, i like to go outside and read a book. This, of course, can only be done when it's warm outside, and when it isn't, i curl up in my favorite chair down stairs and read a good book. But overall, being outside is my favorite way to relax. I like the feeling of openess, and with a good book to read, you can be comfortable mentally and physically. Sometimes in order to reduce stress and recconect with oneself, it's good to get 'away' from oneself first. When you're reading, you can escape for a little while and take a 'back seat' to everything around you. It lets you calm down and forget about whats happening around you for a little while. And it lasts as long as you have enough pages to cosume your time. Another thing i like to do when i'm stressed is sit back and watch a good movie. I usually pick a comedy, something that will cheer me up and make me laugh, or sometimes a movie i used to watch when i was little so i can bring the memories back. I always enjoy watching a good 'kid movie' once in a while because i realize that when i was young it was the best thing ever, and it's fun to think about how it made me feel. It's good to poke the embers of memory once in a while. It makes you think of the happy times you had before. My favorite are from wheni was a kid, mainly because i always remember everything being so fun. You know how it is--everything is part of the giant playground that is your life. I like thinking about that. Being with my little sisters also hepls me reconnect too. They remind me when i was young, but also allow me to accept my new role as older sister--time to grow up. But it's fun. Being with them is a perfect way to reconnect with myself. It helps me trasition.

Journal 31

"Did you hear about what Cindy did yesterday?"  "No," I began, "What happened?" My friend looked at me  saddly, "She went on a date with someone's boyfriend. Secretly. Apparently they've been talking for weeks now." I shrugged. What did it matter to me? I mean, i know Cindy, and i feel bad for the poor girl who was cheated on, but it happens. "Thats too bad," i started, but her concerned look stopped me mid sentence. My face flushed red, and i felt a deep chill in my gut, like a knife piercing through my body. My hands rounded into fists suddenly, almost without my will, and i leaned forward toward my friend, my eyes wide with terror. "Who'd boyfriend?" I asked icily. Her eyes flashed away from me, and she looked across the room, pretending to be concerned with something else. "Hey!" my voice jabbed at her sharply, and she jumped, then turned to me. Her eyes met mine. "Your boyfriend." She said remorsfully. "I just found out today. It's been going around. Everyone is talking about it. It's terrible! I'm so sorry." I pressed my lips together and sat back in my seat. My hands loosened from their fists and came to rest in my lap, looking up at me, hopeless. A deep pain settled into me. It hurt. worse than anything i'd ever felt before. Is it supposed to hurt this bad? Is this what i feels like? After moments of complete silence, my lips parted, and i choked on my words. I tried again. "Who told you that?"  Her glance was guilty. "I heard it from Jane," she started, but i interupted her "--You know Jane isn't a reliable source!" "I know! But she herad it from Mark!" "So?!" "So mark is Jack's friend, whos a friend to Teressa, who's frinds with Sam who's frinds with your boyfriend!"  "what if they were joking around?!"  "Why would they do that?" "To break you guys up! They know how much time you spend together!
'

Journal 32

Revolutionize. I like that world. It seems really futuristic and whenever i hear it i think of new and better things. How to revolutionize the way people think or do things? That's a tricky one. Personaly, it makes me feel good, especially if someone has been doing something 'the hard way' or has struggled with getting a tast done efficiantly. You just can't beat the feeling you get when you tell someone "here, try it THIS way," and then they do and their eyes light up and they say "i never thought of doing it this way!" or "i never knew!". It's just really great. Helping and teaching others better methods of getting things done is rewarding because you know you are impacting their life and possibly making it better. For example, if a student has only been taught one way to do math, and then a new teacher comes in and says "heres and easier way to do that," it changes everything for the student. They might understand it better, and save time. They might even grasp the concept extremely well and end up being really good at it! I think that teaching is the same thing as revolutionizing, but only if the teacher is teaching the student something new and better. I've learned lots of things from teachers that have made my life easier. Learning different ways to do math equations from Mr. Brian is an example. Or when Miss. Radliff taught my freshman history class about livebinders( a program on the internet that allows you to store websites for research projects). Livebinders, for example, is something i STILL use today and my researching has gotten SO MUCH better. But then, last year Mr. langley taught my speech class about and even BETTER website called Digo that you can use on google chrome. It does even more and again 'upped' the way that i research. Before any of these programs i used to write the websites down by hand and had to always go back to them. Revolutionizing technology is probably the most important way to revolutionize anything.

Journal 30

"You can't go in there," someone grumbled. I turned swiftly to face the person who'd spoken, my eyes furrowing in anger. "Well why not?" i asked, looking at the young boy who was now facing me, a deep scowl set on his face. He crossed his thin arms, stuck one foot toward me threateningly, and pointed at the cafe before me. "It's just how it is," he spat, and i backed up aprehensivly. "They don't let brunettes in there. The sign says so." He jabbed a thumb at the cafe window where a bold, neon sign notified customers that only people of red, blond, and black hair were allowed inside. My face turned red with embarrasment, and i felt my hands twitch at my side. My eyes stung with fury, blinkinng with surprize,  and my voice came out as a thin, strangled sob, "Oh, i'm sorry....i didn't know." I kept my eyes locked on the sign, the pure injustice of it slapping me in the face like a stinging switch. I ran a trembling hand over the doornob of the wide, inviting threshold of the cafe, and sighed with remorse. "When did they make this?" i inquired, feeling a deep hurt settle sickingly in my gut. The boy laughed cruely and leaned up next to me, his elbow flush against the cafe window, parallel to the infuriating sign. "Just the other day," he began, as i moved away from him. "Boss just broke up with his girlfriend. She was a brunette. He decided he never wanted to see another one again. Said they were all heartbreaking idiots. Put up the sign in the window. I pained it for him." He observed his hands like they'd done a work of God. I wasn't paying attention. My eyes were focoused on the group of firends i was supposed to meet inside. They were all gathered at our table in the back, smiling, laughing, waiting for me...i hoped. My eyes, unkown to the meaningless difference, observed how their hair glinted with shades of blonde, streaks of red, dark black like the embers of a fire. They were so..happy. Jokingly, as my blonde haired friend got up, i caught my black haired friend, Jacob, grab the jar of salt and gingerly sprinkle a copious ammount into her pepsi filled glass.When she came back and took a sip, her face erupted in anger, and then she laughed, slapping him in the arm playfully, her white smile flashing in the light.  I wouldn't beable to enjoy this fun. I was on the outside. unwelcomed. Unwanted. Not equal. My civil rights were completely gone.

Journal 29

Nature was in control the night the tornado blew through my childhood town. I was eleven years old, and we were living in a one level three bedroom house, complete with a quaint living room and a miniscule kitchen. It was tiny and cozy, but the complete opposite of anything that could be considered safe during a major storm.       Mere hours before it hit town, my family of six was sleeping soundly in our beds. I never really understood what was happening when i was awakened by a loud knocking on our door, the sound of  anxious voices, the whistle of the wind tearing through the trees, and the frantic running of my parents feet through out house. Me and my sisters bedroom door flew open, the light switch was turned on hastily, and my dad's voice broke through the silence of sleep. " Get dressed--HURRY--and don't forget to put on socks!" Me and my sister shot out of our beds like lightning. Faith jumped off the top bunk,  the loud thump making me flinch  and stared at me, her eyes like dinner plates, "What's happening?!" I looked back at her and shrugged. We tore through our room, throwing our pj's to the floor and yanking jeans and long sleeve shirts on our bodies. We didn't put on socks. We grabbed our blankets and pillows and ripped through the hallway to the living room where  my other sister Lydia was lazily lounging on the couch, half-asleep, and oblivious to everything going on around her. The next few seconds were a chaotic blur. My parents appeared out of their bedroom, my mom carrying my youngest sister, only a baby, in a carrier. My dad's face was wrinkled with worry, his arms full of other supplies and paraphernalia.  My mom swiftly handed me my youngest sister and took Faith and i by the arms, pulling us towards the door. With a yank, the door flew open, smacking the wall with a loud clap like thunder, and we raced to the van, the wind ripping our hair and clothes back. We were in the van in seconds, and my mom left us in, then raced back to the house to help my dad carry Lydia and the other supplies we brought. I looked out the window. The trees were dancing terribly, their leaves shaking almost with fear. Leaves and papers and hay was flying through the air. The sky was dark, stained black as embers and looming over us like a massive monster. The next few seconds, again, were a blur. My parents raced from the house, and were in the van. Before i even comprehended it, we were driving. "Where are we going?" I asked. My dad replied back gruffly, "the church. There's a basement there we'll be safe in." So we zoomed across town like a speeding train. When we got to the church, we filed out of the car as fast as was possible, our arms full of our things and our hearts racing, stomachs tight like knives. The few pain staking seconds it took for my dad to put the key in the lock, drop it, then stuff it back in again to unlock the door was torturous. But once we were in, sweet relief flooded through us like streams. We ran to one of the basement rooms and made camp there, throwing our blankets on the floor, cuddling up, trying to keep the jitters at bay. I remember my dad pulling out a storm radio. He let it drone in the background as my mom got me and my other sisters singing, to distract us from the storm. I don't really remember if i fell asleep that night. All i remember is the sound of our voices, singing softly, and the beautiful sunlight that was there to greet us in the morning.

Journal 28

If i was in a place with a different culture or social status it would be a very unique experience. Personally, i've always wanted to go to a place where the culture is different from my own. America is great, and some places have different cultures here, but i've always wanted to go India or Africa, or places like that to be immersed in it and see how they live differently from us. I find other cultures to be extremely beautiful, and from what i've heard, it's a wonderful and enlightening experience. Mainly because you realize that there is so much about people and about the world that you never knew. I've always wanted to go to Mexico too, for the Day of the Dead and see what it's like down there. Every time i hear about it, or see documentaries discussing it and showing pictures, its always so colorful and unique from anything i've ever seen here in America. Or China! It would be amazing to go to China for Chinese New Years! It's a huge celebration filled with so much culture and tradition, and i don't want to die knowing i missed out! There is so much i still don't know, partially because i've never been out of the country, but i really would like to travel someday and see the world. The closest thing i've ever gotten to other cultures is in Epcot in Disney world, and all of that stuff is just to give you the 'feel' of what it would be like to travel to a different place with a different culture. I want to GO to all those places.

On the social status side, the places where a persons social status is way lower than yours changes you.   When my mom went to Bulgaria on a mission trip, it really changed her view on life. She was among people who were so poor, they barely had any clothes at all. It made her realize how lucky we are, and how you can't let a persons social status decide for you how you will treat someone. Going to a place where people are different from you can really make you appreciate the life you live.

journal 25

My little sister Lydia loves to give. Actually, it might just be one of her most favorite things in the whole world. Whenever she gets the chance, she likes to get something and give it to someone else. Shes always thinking of others, and it puts pretty much everyone in the entire world to shame.

For her eleventh birthday this year, she had a couple friends over for a slumber party, and instead of requesting they bring presents for her, she asked them to bring school supplies for children less fortunate who live in the Dominican republic  (my dad went there this summer on a missionary trip and discovered that the children he met barely had any school supplies they needed in order to learn). Her friends complied, and she had my dad mail them to the people he met there.

For Christmas, she wanted nothing. Absolutely nothing for herself. Rather than tell my parents what she wanted for Christmas, she told them she didn't want anything. She wanted my parents to buy her some presents to give to charity, and children who don't have anything. So my parents took her to the store, and she picked out around five different presents--some for a girl, some for a boy--and i've never seen her happier. When Christmas came around, we took her to the charity she wanted to donate too, and we dropped the gifts off. She was extremely happy. I've never seen a kid her age so glad to have gotten nothing for Christmas. Of cource, i made sure to get her a bracelet that she loved.

Shes just such a sweet kid who makes us all look bad. And i hope that in the long run it pays off. Anyone who could give that much and expect nothing back should be rewarded someday. It would be such a hard thing to do, but for her, it really isn't. She likes doing it. she'd rather do that then recieve anything at all. It's really amazing and cool and fantastic how she is.

Journal #27

To be away from my family for years without getting to see them would be extremely difficult for me and them alike.  But if i was going to defend my country, and i decided to go into the military, i would hope that the passion i had for that would be enough to curb the sorrow i would feel.

My family is big, and i have three younger sisters who aren't even grown up yet. If i actually DID do the military, it would be after highschool, right after, and the oldest of the youngest would be a senior, one would be a seventh grader, and another would be a fifth grader. Children already have enough worry in their lives, and making them worry about me all the time would hurt me the most. That would be the hardest part. Knowing that i was worrying my sisters--making them think everyday how they would cope if i ended up dead.

And then there would be my mother and father. They love me deeply, as do my sisters, but their love is much different. My parents already lost one child, and the guilt of me putting myself in danger would practically kill me everyday. Anytime i had to do something mildly dangerous, it would rip my heart out because i'd be thinking, "Oh my parents would never recover if something happened to me," and it's true. They wouldn't.

Being so far away without contact would also kill me. Having no face time with them would especially hurt. Would i forget what they sounded like? Pictures would show me what they looked like, but  I'd miss seeing  my sisters  grow up. I wouldn't get back till two my sisters were graduated (one from middle school, one from highschool and/or college) and my youngest would be getting ready too. That would be an extremely painful experience. Getting back and seeing how fast my two youngest sisters childhood disappeared. Knowing i wasn't fully apart of it.

And then there's the secret factor. I don't like keeping secrets from my family. But being in the military would require that, which would be especially hard.

My only hope would be that the passion i had would be enough to curb sorrow. If i was dedicated whole-heartedly, i wouldn't let it get me down.

Journal #26

Last year when i was auditioning for the high school musical My Fair Lady, things did not turn out the way i was expecting them too.

The tryout days were scheduled for tuesday and wednesday of that week, and i was pretty nervous.

Usually i'm confident, but part of the reason i was so nervous was because i was excited to get started. I hadn't done any acting since the fall when i was in Musical Comedy Murders of 1940, and i was getting really eager to get back into something again.

Anyway, when the audition day came, i was really excited and nervous.

I didn't know what part i wanted, really. I mean, of course i would have liked to get the lead, Elisa Doolittle, but it was really doubtful that i would. I thought maybe i'd just get an average singing role--maybe a chorus person--because the cast was made up of a lot of boy characters and i'm clearly not a guy!

So i went in to the auditions (shaking a little!) and waited filled out the papers and waited to be called to sing my audition song.

I was ready when they called me, and when i went up, and in order to get the nerves off, i kind of joked with  Mrs. Oh and told her  that if Colonel Pickering could be a girl, i'd totally do it. She smiled and then i went back to sit down.

After i thought about what i'd said, i decided that it wouldn't be SO bad to get one of the male roles. I mean, Pickering DID get to sing and got a fair amount of stage time and lines, and was a distinctive character, so it coudln't be all that bad. It would be weird, maybe awkward, and pretty challenging, though. Then i thought about actors in general. Only the best actors are asked to play characters of their opposite gender because it's challenging.

I wasn't really sure what i wanted at the end of the day, but i was really expecting to get a chorus part or maybe a small minor speaking part.

Later that week, i got a text from Mrs. Oh that said i was going to be Colonel Pickering though!!
I was completely  thrown off! I realized that when i'd said it, i'd really, deep down, meant it as a sort of joke!
So getting a text telling me that i was going to be one of the lead male roles in the musical this spring was probably one of the most unexpected things ever.

Though it wasn't as expected, i did my best and worked my hardest at the role. I payed attention to some guy friends for a few days and noted how they walked differently and had different mannerisms from a girl, and i compleatly changed how i moved on stage and how i talked.

It was unexpected, but i enjoyed the opportunity and had a great time!