About a month ago, I paid 15 dollars for a t-shirt which I recieved just a few days ago. I was told to wear my shirt on wednesday. I really like the color of the shirt and was excited to bond with my fellow classmates by wearing it. As soon as I got to school, I was told to remove it on account of the messege. "Seniors '09 feels good to be on top...thats what she said" I am aware that this is somewhat of a sexual message and some people even find it sexest. Most of the teachers I saw that day didn't even make it a big deal, so it was not a distraction. But others would stop the class and tell me to take it off casue it was distracting... but I think the distracting thing is that teacher interupting the class and telling me to take my shirt off. I think that people were more focused on simply making us remove the shirt than the impact it had on other students. This was just another chance for them to demonstrate their power over us. I suggested changing the "she" to "I" so then it would just be something that "I" said. Even though that little change takes away all the sexual and sexest humor, they wouldn't let me do it. They were more focused on making me take it off than what it actually said. I plan on wearing the shirt again, for it is a great color on me. I give credit to Max for getting the shirts for all of us AND raising over 400 dollars for our class. So all i ask is to not be asked to remove my clothing is school... or any other situation involving teachers. 

Sorry my blog is a little late.

Whole-Z

Santa Baby

Dear Imaginary Characters,

Santa:

Almost every year you have graced me with your presence and presents. I remember when I was younger and living in an apartment in Portland Maine, you visited me on a cold christmas night. I was sleeping and was awakened by your sniffling nose and old man's cough. I slowly opened my door and peeked my little blue innocent eyes out. My freshly made sugar cookies were eaten and I heard rustling by the christmas tree. I quickly shut my door and ran back into bed, afraid that you would catch me up. Moments later I heard some stomping on the roof and bells jingling. Oh santa.

Easter Bunny:

The first year I moved to New Hampshire I lived Newfound Lake. The night before Easter it had snowed a foot and you still decided to come. The next morning I woke up to many candy baskets. With tons of jelly beans, peeps and chocolate! As I opened the front door I noticed abnormally large bunny foot prints on my walkway. Was it really you mr. easter bunny? Or was it some phony?

Little One

She picks up another rock, peering at the indent in the soft earth before letting it drop with a muffled thump. The beach is the other way – she even has her bathing suit still on – but no, she wants to meander along the edge of the woods. The bathing suit looks ridiculous really. A bright pink onesie with silly frills; exactly what you would expect parents to put on their kids. Awww, look how silly and cute and adorable she is. It’s a good thing that little kids don’t have any fashion sense, otherwise they would surely detest their parents’ lack thereof.

“Eewwwww.” She’s found what she was looking for. Underneath the latest rock lies, now exposed, a horde of creepy crawlies. Grimacing, she pulls out an earthworm, admiring it. She puts it aside, examining the other bugs, placing them in a neat pile to the side. One of the other kids toddles over to see what could be so interesting. She ignores him, intent on her plunder, until he looks away and she casually drapes the earthworm around his shoulders. Screaming, the kid runs back to mommy, who glares defensively back at us. Sighing, I leave my protective perch on a nearby boulder and stroll up to her.

“That wasn’t very nice, you know.”

“I know,” she says, minding her little patch of bugs, not looking at me. She’s heard this before, I’m sure.

“So why’d you do it?”

“He was buggin’ me. Besides, everyone likes bugs, it’s not my fault. Here, have some.” She thrusts a fistful of insects at me.

“No thanks,” I respectfully decline. “So I guess you know a lot about bugs, huh?”

“Mmyup, that’s right,” she holds up a shiny black and brown beetle, “This one here – see it? – this one is the, uh, Hercules Beetle. He can lift a thousand times his body weight!” She brandishes the beetle again, expecting shock and awe.

“Really? It looks like just an ordinary beetle to me.”

“Nuh-uh, it’sa Hercules Beetle,” she takes the beetle back, holding it close to protect its identity.

“Oh, well that one is a, uh, European Strangler,” I point dramatically at the confused-looking earthworm looking for a way back into the dirt. “Be careful with that one, they’ve been known to attack chickens, cows, and small mountain lions.”

“What? I don’t know about that,” she suspiciously eyes the worm.

“Then I guess you wouldn’t know about the serious damage they’ve caused ever since they were accidentally brought over from France. They’re an invasive species you know, no natural predators.”

“Whoa,” she stares at the earthworm with new caution. As she watches the worm twisting its way back into the ground, her mom waves at us, motioning at us to come back to the beach.

“How about we head back to the water?”

“Nno, the water’s boring. Bugs are more fun.”

“Ah, but in the water there be monsters. Ever heard of the giant squid?”

“No…”

“It’s the size of a bus, with huge long tentacles and a huuuge beak – ”

“A beak?”

“Yeah, and it’s mortal enemy, the sperm whale, dives all the way down to the deep – where the squid lives – just to battle it out.”

“No way! We hafta get to the water!”

“Alright, let’s go!”

We dashed down to the beach, where she dove into the water to grapple with imaginary monsters. Startled by the display of voracity, her mom leaned over and asked, “What did you tell her?”

“I just told her about giant squids and sperm whales.”

“I suppose she’ll be wanting some books on the deep then. We just bought her that series on insects, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“And just last week she was in the backyard climbing trees to have a word with the birds.”

“Good idea, those crows can be a damned nuisance.”

“I wonder if she’ll ever settle on one subject.”

“Well, probably not.”

Sigur Rós - ( )

This is my review for Sigur Rós' album ( ):

I recommend listening to the album before reading this review, as it gives away what the album sounds like, so this is my spoiler warning.

This album is so extremely unique, that I will go through it track by track:

Untitled 1
Nice, smooth intro to the album. It is like a refreshing glass of cool water after listening to some more intense bands recently (Aerosmith, Tool etc.). A more chilling (in terms of temperature) track (for Sigur Rós), which leads to expecting a more chilling album.
Untitled 2
The light drum beat helps this song, and as the song progresses it keeps the upbeat sound. Nice, gentle rock that is quite relaxing. More towards the end of the song the listener gets the feeling that it will lead up to a climax, either later in the song, or later in the album, and the very soft ending leads the listener to believe that it will be the latter of the two.
Untitled 3
A simple instrumental, with a piano played all the way through. Though I don't mind the vocals, it can be nice to have a good break from them. The piano is played over a chilling noise, most likely a type of guitar, and this track is a prime example of the cold feeling that the album gives.
Untitled 4
The album starts to pick up. A thundering drum beat starts off the song and then the ringing-guitar sequence leads into the vocals. The ringing guitar returns throughout the song, and would serve as the first climax of the album. Jónsi's vocals are at one of their best moments, and everything just goes perfect in this track. The ending silence leaves the listener waiting anxiously for the next track to begin.
Untitled 5
Until now, the album would fit best on a sunny, winter day. Cold, but not dark. As the fifth track rolls along, though, the album takes a much darker turn. The begining of the track, still feeling cold, now has a gray feeling too it as well. After the more upbeat, happy "Untitled 4," "Untitled 5" surprises the listener and brings a depressing feeling with it. Even the climaxes in this track have a much darker and deeper feeling than those in the previous four tracks, and the main climax in this one soars above the other previous ones. This track proves to be the major turning point for the album, as it brings a whole new feeling.
Untitled 6
After the dark "Untitled 5" there is no knowing what could possibly be in store for this track. It continues with the dark and cold feeling, with a steady drumbeat behind the saddest vocals up to this point in the album. The climaxes, much like in "Untitled 5," are of a gloomy and morbid nature, and it is clear that the build up from the first four tracks lead to all of these unexpectedly dark climaxes (the best of which thus far in the album is late in "Untitled 6").
Untitled 7
After what could easily be the peak of the album, the listener is most likely expecting the album to settle down for a close in the last two tracks. The begining of "Untitled 7" even suggests that, but this masterpiece of an album isn't done yet. The vocals are probably the most cheerless and despairing of the whole album, with an almost effortless feel to them. The track is home to several extremely dark track-climaxes (climaxes of the song, not the album(album-climax)), but in the middle of the song, and again towards the end, there is are surprising album-climaxes, just when the listener thought that the album was dying down! The climaxes are still of the sorrowful nature, and have been since the dark tone took over in "Untitled 5."
Untitled 8
The final track opens up with a not-so-dark guitar intro, one that will surprise the listener with the sudden change of tone. The drum beat continues the more joyful feeling. The vocals return to the jovial sound not heard since "Untitled 4," and the climaxes hold a new cheer that was unseen in the album until now. Parts of this track still include the darker chilling effect when the guitar can be heard wailing in the background, but overall, the track, though still chilling and continuing with the cold feeling, is much more joyous. About half-way through the song, there is a sudden change back to the darkness of the previous three tracks, as it is mostly a solid drumbeat with despair in the vocals once again. This shocks the listener, just as they were getting settled in with the happier side of Sigur Rós. This drumming leads into the greatest climax in the album, when the drumming, picks up greatly towards the end of the track, and the guitar keeps the extremely dark feeling with it. The highlight of the album, the peak, the climax. After hearing the great peaks in other tracks, this was not expected. And after the more jovial begining to "Untitled 8," the darkest part of the album was not foreseen by the listener in the very same track.

Now it's all over, and the listener is overwhelmed with feelings. The album hits hard with both joyful feelings and feelings of despair. Sigur Rós 's ( ) is one of the most emotional albums that I've heard.

As with any post-rock album, it is full of downtime and climaxes. This album just happens to make all of it amazing. Though it helps to be a post-rock fan before trying this album, you should give it a try regardless of your previous tastes.

As the art for the album cover suggests, and as I mentioned several times during my review, the album is best for a cold, gloomy day. Summertime listening, though could still be enjoyable, is not what was intended when the album was created. No other album is more appropriate for a cold, dark day. One of a kind.

Now after a little over an hour of the soft and deep Sigur Rós, I think I'll put on Ween's Chocolate and Cheese.

Dear Santa Claus

This is Peter McNally (from my earlier letters, you probably know me as Petey Pie, but times have changed). First, I just want to say hello and wish you a merry Christmas. Second, would you please give this message to Mrs. Claus? It’s very important. Thank you.

Mrs. Claus? It's Peter again. We don’t want Santa reading over your shoulder, do we, so tell him to leave the room. Is he gone? No? Well tell him that he can eat the cookies I sent with the letter. That should give us enough time. Is he gone yet? Good. Now we can be alone…

I have been thinking of you every minute since we last spoke. I know you told me not to try and reach you while Santa was around, but I just cannot wait. Please. We must be together, and this time, I can’t wait till Christmas.

Everyone’s talking about your current lover, but we both know that Santa is incapable of love – just lust. I know that there is a lot more in that sack he brings down the chimney at night than just toys, and that there are a lot of single mothers out there. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

If not for my sake, then for yours! How many times has he come home late from the toy factory, drunk on eggnog? A nose that red can’t come from cold whether alone. And when he comes home, is he tender? Does he whisper sweet nothings in your ear like I do? No.

This year, the only thing I want for Christmas is you.


Merry Christmas,

Peter

-PS. Burn this letter after you read it. Santa must never know.

I'm sitting in the library right now, a place formerly known as something of a knowledge haven and a good place to chill with friends. Times have changed, as have the teachers. No longer does a pregnant Mrs. E walk around, humorously cajoling the students. The impending birth of her baby had lightened her mood considerably at times, but the mood swings that accompany pregnancy took their affect on her as well. The new year rolled around, and the new face of the librarian beamed and smiled at us as we entered the double swinging doors.

"You can call me Ms. Media." She smiled again.

She seemed nice enough, we all thought. Ha!

Barely three periods into school, the reformation had begun. Sitting alone in the back corner of the library, quietly watching a soccer movie, the sound muted, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I turn to face the still smiling Ms. Media.

"This is a place of learning. Please no videos. They're distracting."

She must be kidding. Who was I distracting? There was no one within fifty feet of me, and the sound was off as it was!

The next few months were brutal, a constant battle of library domination between the boys of the senior class and Mrs. Media, the new librarian. We understood that we were being dicks, but we're boys, that's what we do. The relationship reached an all-time low when she caught me watching another movie. (Quick side note: as I was writing that last sentence, she just came over and took the soda bottle from my backpack. Strange.) Anyway, this was the dialogue.

"Ben, no movies allowed."

"Sorry, I must have been distracting the zero people near me."

"Come with me, we need to have a little chat."

"I'm doing fine, thanks, I think i'll pass."

"Come with me, now." Very threatening, Mrs. Media.

"Ummm...nah. I'm actually not quite done with this movie."

"Why don't you go take a visit to Mr. Dean."

"There's no way I'm going to go visit Mr. Dean."

At this point, I began packing my back pack and headed for the door.

"Leave the library."

"Why do you think I'm walking towards the door?"

"Don't come back this week, we'll try again next week."

"Try what? To repair our "broken relationship", Mrs. Media?"

"Goodbye, Ben."

"We should talk more often Ms. M."

That was fun. I should talk to her more often.

My house is a disaster. Kathy ( my mother) decided to pull out the Martha Stewart in her, to re-decorate our house. Kathy likes to do this every year. Two years ago she decided she wanted to repaint our living room. Up rooting my self to the kitchen was horrible, I could not watch my t.v show because everything smelled like toxic paint. The ending result was very good I must admit. Last year she wanted to get new furniture for the living room, because the couch did not match with the color on the walls. Martha would jokingly come ask me for some advice with what colored couch we should get. Flipping through the pages, as if I were a speed reader, I randomly pointed to our future couch. Surprised my mom took my advice into consideration, and finally decided that was the couch for us.

Now this time, Martha wanted to get our house re-insulated. I don't really mind that it is getting re-insulated, because who doesn't want to be warm throughout the winter time. The only problem with this is that there is noise 24/7, cold seems to seep its way under the cracks of our house. 

I just wish that Martha would take a vacation and be happy with the way the house looks. I think I might be able to get through the rest of the winter with this construction still going on. There was no reason to start now, they won't be done till the summer time, so pretty much were sleeping outside all winter.