Stressed

I have way to much on my plate right now. The play, the leadership things, AP classes, Mr. K's class (which is a whole other level of class), scholar's bowl... and along with that there's church, friends, and Halloween coming up.

I'm so tired all the time.

And hungry. Mom is never home to cook or I'm never home to eat, and I can't really afford to go to a fast food restaurant.Last night I ate Chef Boyardee. That's it. I'm 16 not 6! Ugh.

But no matter, the play will be over soon, and I think I can deal with this until then. I can't wait to go to bed. I feel so out of it.

Dear Adults,

Please stop being so condescending.

We're kids. We mess up. We fight, we disagree, we laugh too loud, we're inappropriate. We're selfish. We're overemotional...

We are kids.


So how about, instead of yelling at us and giving us more rules every time we show our age, you stand there and advise us, love us, and forgive us.

Because I am so sick of being talked down too. I am so sick of being robbed of my freedom. I understand some of the rules, but a lot of them that you just throw at us on the fly, I don't. We are a generation of thinkers, of doers, of speakers; you cannot silence us.

We will not be tied down. We will not be bound to the path you choose. I am bound to one path; God's, and who are you to say that it is not my own?

The world is different, and we are different. No, we are not like you were when you were our age. We are more.

Because more is expected out of us. We are expected to look good, feel good, do good, and be good all the time. So no wonder we always look bad, feel bad, and act bad; we could never reach the high standards you hold.

But no, it must be our fault. Something is wrong with us. Something is wrong with our generation.

Well, before you say that, turn around and take a look at who raised us.

Sincerely,
A Concerned Youth

New York Times Asked: Do Attractive People Have Advantages Others Don’t?

My answer:

It has been proven that when people believe they look good, they radiate confidence, and that makes them more respectable to people. Because the world attacks people with images of what the “perfect” woman or man looks like, being confident in your looks is hard. Yet many people model their looks after these images, and if they are satisfied, they are seen as “attractive” and therefore they are confident and people respect them, and give them more “advantages”.

You see, “attractive” is such an abstract word. What is attractive to you may not be to someone else, therefore the world decided they had to come up with a way to “conform” attractiveness (see: supermodels, TV, magazines, ect.) but these attempts to conform the world, of course, did not work fully. Sure, some people are “followers” of this conformity, but there are many against it, some adamantly. Therefore, the answer to the question “Do attractive people have advantages others don’t?” is no, but confident people do.

Well Then

Why? Why why why does all this (for lack of a better word) shit have to all escalate at the same time?

I won't share the details with the world, that's horrible, even if I don't use names, so I'll have to leave you in the dark about that. But know that my world is being picked up and shook upside down now, and everything was going so good.

I don't understand why it ALL happens at the same time. I compared it to girl's menstrual clocks being in sync, and it makes me so mad. Is the world against me?

God, are you out there? Do You do this to punish me or enlighten me? I hope it's the latter.

A Poem

Okay, I keep saying and keep saying that I want to be a journalist, and that I want to be a writer, but I haven't really backed it up with any samples. So I will now.

"Up a Mountain"

By: Stephanie Clinton

The leaves crunched beneath my feet.

My breath, quick and hot, expelled from my lungs as fast as it entered.

I heard far off call from voices unseen, but I ignored them.

This was my climb.

My jacket, removed long ago despite the chill from the mountain, kept untying itself from my waist.

The hill became steeper. I began to crawl.
On my hands and knees, I trudged upwards, trying to catch a glimpse...

Then I saw it.

The once ivory white cross stood high above the trees.
I looked to it to guide me.

I climbed and climbed, using all of my strength.

Every time I crumbled, my face in the dirt, I would look up to that cross, and push forward.

At last at the top I rejoiced with God.
He had driven me up the mountainside and into His presence.

I prayed He'd do the same for me in life.

© Stephanie Clinton

I Don't Really know What to Post Today

I had an idea, but I forgot. I guess I'll just tell you some facts about me:

1.  I'm a hypochondriac. I'm afraid right now that I have the flu or cancer...
2. I (and you will see me talk about this a lot, maybe) am in love with Glee. Like seriously in love.
3. I made this blog for class, and personal use. All my class post will have a tag saying something like "for class" or something else like that.
4. I get angry over losing things very quickly, because I lose things a lot. And when I say angry, I mean, super angry.
5. I love English. It is my best class, and I want to be a journalist some day, so English is my passion.

So there you have it. I'll probably do this every now and then so you can have an idea of the person behind the computer. So, ya. Thanks for reading!

10 October 2011; 9:19 AM

I feel so sick. I'm so tired too. This morning I was burning up. I swear, I thought I was dying. Now I'm okay, but I'm so tired because I had to stay up all last night and read (which I didn't finish doing FYI).

I have a test on The Jungle by Upton Sinclair in my 5th block class, and while I'm loving the book, I just do not have the time to finish reading it. I read til chapter 16, which I think is the farthest out of everyone in my class, but that's still not even halfway. I read for four hours straight last night, but alas...

I feel like I'm about to pass out. my head feels light but my chest feels so heavy. I feel like I slept on the floor last night. A wet floor too. It's horrible.

Ugh.

Steve Jobs: A Revoltionary

Steve Jobs, without question, changed our modern world. He invented the modern personal computer, the iPod, the iPhone, and a million other things. He was CEO of Apple until he resigned exactly six weeks before his death, but he was also the creator of Pixar, the popular computer-animation movie firm partnered with Disney.

Whether you are a fan of Apple, or a Windows fan, everyone should feel a sense of loss over Steve Jobs departure from this world. He is the reason we have portable music (that does not weigh 80 pounds; see boom boxes), personal computers, and the very word processor I’m typing this on now.

Goodbye Steve Jobs, you will be very missed.

The Bandwagon Effect

“Oh my gosh, have you heard about that band coming to play this weekend?”

“Ya, I’ve loved them forever!”

“Really, what’s some of your favorite songs by them?”

“Umm… well, you know that one…”

The bandwagon effect: when some artist gets big and everyone decides to become their “biggest fan”. This applies to everything a person can be a fan of: music groups, sports, TV shows, everything.

The “Social Media” Bandwagon. As you can see, only popular web media sites are portrayed.

Many “true fans” get annoyed by these “bandwagon fans”; not only when they “jump on” for them winning, but especially when they jump on with a rival team and poke fun.

A portrayal of supposed political figures trying to influence someone to “jump on” their bandwagon.

Curious Jack Russel Terrier Clinton (CJ)

In February of 2006 I finally got my life long wish: a little puppy dog. When I walked into the owner's house, I found him laying with his sister on a doggy bed next to a glass door with the sun shining on him. He reminded me of a sloth.

I bought him and picked him up. He was small enough to fit into both palms of my hands. I held him all the way home. We stopped at the local Food Giant to buy him a bed and some food, and while we were stopped I let my grip on him loose enough for him to move around. He began to climb up my shoulder and sniff at me and my seat belt. That's when I decided to name him Curious. "But Curious is such a weird name," my eleven year old mind said, so I decided CJ would be appropriate. It stood for Curious Jack Russell Terrier Clinton.

CJ at a very young age.

I brought him home and my brother fell in love. He trotted around the house, checking everything out. He was so cute. I was in love. My brother kept calling him "boy" though, despite my efforts at teaching him his name.

So together we grew.

We would play a game outside where I'd chase him, or just intimidate him. He was so fast, and he ran with his back legs like a bunny. It was crazy.

He was also very photogenic. He knew when a camera was on him, and he would pose. I have a lot of pictures of him chewing his bone or sleeping. I'll make a masterpost of those later.

CJ helped me through the hard times. I remember on one of the worst days of my life in 2007 I came home alone and cried. I cried all around the house, and I pushed CJ away. But finally, when I was weak and just wanted to sleep, CJ climbed up on top of me on the couch, and slept with me.

He did that a lot with me when I was angry; he'd curl up on the couch with me and go to sleep. He was a stress reliever.

CJ was laying on my bed when I was cleaning my room. I didn't know, so I accidentally piled everything up on him.

Granted, we did have our problems. We fought a lot. He ate all my stuff: clothes, bracelets, pens and pencils, everything. I yelled at him a lot, and I was the one that had to discipline him most of the time. It hurt our relationship, but we still loved each other.

CJ asleep on my bed.

CJ's favorite past time, as he grew older, was sleeping. He was always asleep. He slept all day and all night. He was always so cute when he slept.

Last week he got sick. He wouldn't eat and he was hurting. He couldn't jump up like he used to be able to. My dad took him to the vet Saturday and the vet  said CJ had a rib bone (which my dad had fed him a few nights ago) stuck in his system, so they gave him a laxative and pain reliever and sent him home.

CJ didn't get better.

He lost his ability to walk Sunday. He would just lay around, or scoot around on his butt. His front paws worked, but his back legs didn't. Dad took him back to the vet Monday.

When I got home Monday afternoon I found out the vet took CJ and was keeping him for overnight care and performing tests on him. My brother talked to the vet on the phone, and they said he should be home by the next day.

When I got home Tuesday, October 4th, 2011, CJ was still not home.

CJ a year or so ago.

At 8:30 PM my mom came in and said, "Stephanie, I need to talk to you about something." I was frightened. I thought she'd say I couldn't go to New York, but what she did say was so much worse, "We had to put CJ to sleep."

I was angry to say the least, furious. My dog, my puppy, my only dog ever, is dead. My parents put him to sleep that morning without telling me. Something was wrong with his back, and we couldn't afford the surgery that could maybe fix him, so we just put him to sleep.

I will always remember my dog, my puppy, Curious Jack Russel Terrier Clinton.

I'll remember him riding the lawn mower with my dad, screeching whenever we got home, scratching on the bathroom door to be let out, running around the yard for no reason, chasing chipmunks, barking at the bird in our fireplace, crying when my cousin kicked him, licking our plates, begging for food, sniffing me up and down when I'd come back from a long trip, and most of all, loving me.

I miss my dog. I miss my puppy. But I believe he feels better now, and that's all I wanted for him.

My dog, Curious Jack Russel Terrier Clinton (CJ), was put to sleep this morning.

Memorial post tomorrow.