March Slice of LIfe Challenge 31/31

You know that familiar of felling of panic that hits you ever time you think you've made a mistake. It feels as it if bumps you on the head. It's that same feeling you have when you know that you just knocked over a vase, it hasn't quite fallen yet and you know that you are too late to catch it. Well, (probably the same as most of you) I am know that feeling all to well.

When we started this slice of life challenge, I remember thinking to myself that I was going to do it. I could do all 31 days and I planned too. Then I remembered the part about remembering. I actually had to remember to post everyday. That was when that feeling started. The feeling of panic and dread and forgetfulness. And, as I had predicted, the remembering was the hard part.

Of course, it has been hard trying to think of ideas for every slice, and my writing has improved quite a bit, but the main thing that I have taken out of this challenge is new systems of ways to remember things.

I kind of had it figured out that the first thing that I would do when I had extra time at school was to post my slice. On weekends, I would do my slice right before eating lunch. These systems have helped me a lot to accomplish my goal of posting every day and I have learned knew tricks for the future.

My writing has also gotten quite a bit better. Doing this challenge has helped me to identify what kind of writing I want to write and what kind of writer I wanted to be. You could say that it has helped me find my writing voice.

I want to be the writer who doesn't exactly sound like you are talking to them, but you could totally envision having a conversation with. What kind of writer do you want to be?

Thanks for reading my blog!

Nani and Poppy's House

I walk through the familiar hallway followed by my grandma and my brother. Everything here is where I know it will be. The perfect living room looks just as perfect as ever. Everything smells right and I know exactly where I am.

This is Nani and Poppy's house. I know it from the countless adventures with my grandparents, cousins and parents that have started and ended here. I know it from the pictures of my dad, aunt, grandpa, grandma and others that hang on the walls. I know it from the giant glass windows on the back that give a gorgeous view of the ocean.

I know it from the rules about where you are allowed to walk and where you are allowed to wear your shoes. I know it from the feeling of family and love in every corner and around every turn.

I know this house from the feeling all around that says, this is Nani and Poppy's house.

Scavenger Hunt

We ran (well actually it was speed walking) down the hallway towards our classroom. It was the math  holiday scavenger hunt and we had to compensate after coming in last the previous year. We raced down the stairs then abruptly stopped as we reached the front desk. We asked if we could go find Terri in the back, and then resumed our race.

Once we got to the desk we were looking for we stopped and asked for our challenge. We ended up having to do some odd dance to a holiday song. Although I'm sure we were far from amazing, by the end of the challenge we were all laughing and had caught the attention of several other administrators.

As we left the office area we saw on of the math teachers and ran over. "We have all 14 clues" we all repeated excitedly. 

"Ok let's count."

As we were counting we realized that we were missing quite a few. We found all but one of the missing clues in various group members pockets but we couldn't find our last clue. We went through them again realizing this time that one of our clues had taken us to the wrong place.

That means that we hadn't won yet. And it was a race.

We all ran up the stairs as fast as we could to go search the math classrooms for the missing clue. We finally found it, just as another group entered the room.

"We found it. We found it" we all yelled. "We won we are first."

"No we won." The other group replied.

"Actually said the group member who was counting the clues, we are missing, like, six."

I Remember

I have a collection of short memories. The first things I can remember about life. I remember nap times from daycare. I remember seeing a picture of my friend while I was supposed to be sleeping. I remember the stomach ache that meant I couldn't got to the rodeo.

I remember longer moments from when I was a little older. I remember going to see a musical and doing the monkey bars with my friends. I was talkative and goofy but thats about all that I can remember.

I remember even more from when I started school. I remember doing art and playing games in the theater. I remember my working of a unit project for Expo.

I remember a lot from when I moved upstairs in the building. I remember being distracted by my friends and finding out that I was not going to be in the class I wanted to be in.

I remember a lot of my life. I remember when I woke up in the morning and my little brother had been born during the night. I remember a lot I guess that that makes a lot of things that I can write about for my slice of lifes.

My Hands

I slide down a long path in the snow with my hands out in front of me. The cold and bumps are hurting my raw and under covered hands as glide down the "snow slide." I can feel the pain in them, from both the cold and the dryness, but don't care. I am having too much fun on the slide to feel my hands. It's almost as if the way my hands feel is completely separate from the rest of me. Probably because I have made it be.

I am someone who likes to get my hands dirty. Literally. There isn't much that I won't touch my hands to and, as a result, I have a lot of scars, dirt, scratches and other stuff on my hands. Right now, I can see several marks on one of my knuckles from I don't even know what. I can see the skin that is practically splitting from dryness on the back of my hands. I have a scar on my right hand from when I accidentally ran it along the basketball court and gave it a "gym-floor burn."

On the inside of my hand I can feel the spot where I touched boiling sugar once. I can feel and see the calluses from years of doing the monkey-bars. Just below my hand, on my wrist, is a scar identical to the one on my right hand. I also got that from playing basket ball. I can see the creases and everything else that goes on a palm. A blue vain, sticks out from a red background.

My hands look far from perfect and they have too many marks on them to count, but I love my hands. I love the fact that they are bigger than most people's who are several inches taller than me. I love the calluses and the squishiness. My hands are a reminder of everything that I can do with them. How I can do almost anything. I can help people, and save things that are important. I can do thing that are important to me. I love my hands. It's because my hands just remind me of my favorite moments. They remind me of myself.

I sit on a bench

I sit on a bench staring into space. The bench is familiar from all of the times I lugged (and carried) it around our school theater. I had sat on that bench (or one that was super similar) through three shows. I had sat (and sometimes stood) on the bench while acting out stories when I was five years old. You could measure my growth by how my ability to carry that bench.

Now, I am just sitting there. Feeling out of place. This was my fifth show but I had never been the one to set out the benches and chairs and the TV-monitor. I was normally the one who watched. The one who laughed at my friends as they used funny accents and did silly dances. They then, in turn would watch me.

I think about the past few months. How hard I tried to pretend that I liked to drill and cut and move things around as much as I liked to perform. At times, I had felt like I really was doing it. Then I would remember how it felt to make an audience laugh, how it felt to make my friends laugh.

Sitting here, on this special bench I know that no matter how much I pretend, and although this is where I want to be, I don't belong here.

The Martian (Week 1)

So far, this book has been really good. The writing isn't the best but it has a really good plot and a lot of cool stuff. There are definitely some funny parts and some more serious parts. I would recommend this book to anyone who is looking for a good thing to read.

That's all I'm going to say because I don't want to give anything away.

Waterfall

We slowly "hiked" down the steep path. It was obviously man-made. I could tell by the way the paved path cut into the steep drop. There was a sharp angle where the black asphalt met the natural dirt which looked like it would make a perfect seat.

Our group sped up as we reached the end of the trail. In front of us we could hear the roar of a waterfall. We ran over to the edge of the overlook area. There it was. A clear blue, gorgeous monster. It raged down the cliff and an incredible speed.

We stayed there for a little while, mesmerized by the river and waterfall. Finally, we started to head back up the trail. As we were ascending up the deep mountain I started to breath heavier. Huge breaths. As much air to my lungs as I could get.

In, in. Out. I kept trudging up the hill. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The small elephant that I had felt, sitting on my chest had been replaced by a bigger one. A huge one that was pressing the air out of my lungs.

I told someone that I needed to stop. Take a break. I couldn't breath. My lungs couldn't take in enough air.

We stopped. I sat down on the dirt that I thought would make a good seat. I took deep breaths until I finally got up and climbed the path slowly.

Cake

Imagine a bread-like substance that is sweetly flavored. Sometimes it is chocolate-flavored. Sometimes it tastes like espresso. Well, I know that it is hard to believe, but the image that you have just imagined is real. It is called cake.

Cake is awesome! My favorite flavor of cake is red velvet. But really, every kind of cake is good. I think that every kind of cake is a different kind of friend. Here is my analysis of cake:

Chocolate is that cake that is the friend who you have had forever. It's not your best friend but you know it really well and it is a reliable flavor of cake.

Vanilla is the friend who just kind of follows you around but who you don't know super well. Sometimes it is nice but it is usually just bland.

Red Velvet is the cake who you just met. You think that red velvet is really cool but the flavor is a little bit foreign and new to you.

Cake is really cool and cake flavors are kind of like people I guess. What is your favorite kind of cake?

Birds of Prey

My Stomach fluttered as we rode up the lift. I couldn't believe we were about to do a double black run. I had never done a double black before. I knew that this run was going to be groomed today and My brother, friends and I had insisted that we do it.

The chair approached the top of the hill and we all got off. I skied over to a sign at the top of the run so that I could see the words more clearly. The blue sign said that this run had been one of the courses for some world championship that I can't remember the date of. The part that caught my eye was the part that said it would be part of the 2015 world championship.

When our parent got off of the lift we all skied over toward the top of the run. It didn't look too hard but there was a steep icy part at the top. In a line we all skied across and down the icy part. The adults went filled by my brother and his friend. I went next and joined the rest of the group.

My friend, on her way to where we were stopped, hit a spot and fell. Unfortunately, she had gotten stuck in a spot where anyway she got up, she would plummet strait down an icy slope.

We tried to help her by telling her what to do but she was scarred and stuck. Finally, her dad took off his skis and began walking up the steep hill. When he was about five feet away from my friend he lost his footing and slipped. He slid all of the way down the hill stopping several feet below the rest of us just as someone in a blue jacket skied over towards the fallen person.

He helped her up and finally down to our stopping point. He told us that he was a ski instructor from Vail. It took a while but we did finally get down the double black and World Championship run.

Two Days Before My Birthday, One day After the Spring Equinox

I woke up and went into the bathroom. We were staying at the house of my grandparents good friends. Waiting for me in the bathroom where two little presents. One was a scroll and the other a bracelet. My grandparents friends knew how hard this trip had been. Being the kind people that they were, they had been leaving Nathan and me little gifts every morning. Today I got two because today was special. It was my birthday.

After the rest of my family got up we drove over to my grandparents house where my grandma and cousins were waiting for us. Although I was getting to spend my birthday with my cousins, it was not a very good day.

The reason we were in California was because my Grandpa had died two days before. We had been there visiting him and had stayed for the funeral. Almost my entire family was there. Although it was my dad's father my mom's family came in to California too. 

I felt bad because all day everyone had been doing whatever I wanted even though my grandma was the one who deserved all of the help and attention. Everyone gave me gifts that my mom had to keep telling them that I liked, even though I didn't want them. Everyone wanted me to have a good birthday but nobody could give me what I really wanted.

I wanted the sadness that was lurking in every last corner of the house to go away. I wanted everybody to be cheerful again. I was tired of watching the sad faces and feel the emptiness.

My grandpa was the only thing that everyone wanted on my birthday. The only thing that could make the sadness go away. I was ten. I didn't know much about my grandpa. But one thing that I did know, was that the emptiness was because he wasn't with us.

Sand Dunes

Sand flies toward us forcing us to close our eyes. Even with sunglasses I can not easily see. My legs and feet burn as the sharp pieces of sand fly at them at incredible speeds. I would complain but I really shouldn't.

We are at the great sand dunes national park. It is a overnight field trip and so far, it has actually been pretty fun. Despite the getting up before sunrise and the sand that is blowing at us our hike hasn't been that bad either.

It's funny. I used to absolutely hate hiking. But somehow this was a fun experience. I wasn't at the back of our line. I was actually closer to the front. This was a good trip. Much better than the last time I had been to the sand dunes. It wasn't a blizzard just windy.

My legs hurt and I was tired. But I didn't complain. I mean, I was actually having fun.

Big Things I Wonder

• Who decided it would be cool to have different sized infinities?
• How many universes are there?
• What is going to happen when the earth runs out of water/
• What is color?
• 42?
• Is there an after life and why did anybody think of it in the first place?
• What was before our universe?
• What will happen after our universe?
  

The Westing Game

by Ellen Raskin

 Everyone thought that the owner of Westing Paper products and the creator of Westingtown was dead. He had disappeared and there were rumors about what had happened. No one knew if he really was dead until 14 random heirs are summoned to the Westing house to play the mysterious Westing Game.

This was a really good book. It was kind of like an Agatha Christie novel but it was a little bit different. I would recommend this book to anyone who is a fan of mysteries.

Little Things I Wonder

• Why do I prefer writing with pencils to writing with pens?
• Why can't I dribble a basketball as well as I want to?
• Why can't I throw a frisbee very well?
• How do we not notice our fingernails growing?
• Why do I think that water melon is gross but the rest of the world thinks it's good?
• How many slices of life will I be able to do without running out of ideas?
• Will I have to get new shoes soon?
• Will I ever break a bone?
• Why don't I live in California?
  
  
  
  

Night Skiing

I sway
I turn,
I spin and fly
As I see
flakes of snow whizzing by.

Between patches of dark,
And slopes of white,
The light on snow
Reflects nice and bright.

I fell wind in my face
And the cold winter air
Although it is chilly
I really don't care.

I glide on the snow
And cut into the white
There are lights shining
But it is obviously night.

The Future and the Past

Do you ever sit and think about the future? I know I do. I like to think about what I think might, someday, be possible. I like to think about traveling to other planets and living in an apartment building that is thousands of feet off of the ground. It's cool to think about traveling faster than the speed of light to planets in other universes.

It's also cool to think about the past. How cool would it have been to watch the first moon landing, live. It would be awesome to get to ride down a street that didn't have a single big-name store, Starbucks or a drugstore.

It would also be cool to think about the future, in the past. Our vision of the future has changed as we have become more technologically advanced. Sometimes, I like to think about how our vision of the future has changed through time. I guess that it's kind of like dreaming of the future and the past at the same time.

New Orleans

The streets of New Orleans were nearly empty. It was about 10:00 pm and our class' last night of our spring trip. It seemed like we had traveled the globe in these 10 days although we had really only driven through two U. S. states. It was our last chance to grab a beignet and coffee at the famous Café du Monte.

Luckily two of our group members had brought their wallets on our last night excursion. Two had listen to the teachers tell us that we might be able to squeeze in some last minute free time around Jackson square. Total we had about twenty five dollars. That would be more than enough for a plate of beignets.

My group headed toward Jackson Square and the Café. I could practically taste the powdered sugar in my mouth. I could smell the piping hot beignet. I thought about everything that had happened on the trip. The stuff that I had begun to take for granted the freedom, wonder and amazement I had felt the whole time.

I couldn't feel the same way had home. I couldn't be taste the coffee or take that first bite out of beignet. That was a Jamie's Class Spring trip to New Orleans thing. Not A home thing.

Shakespeare?

Sometimes do you just wonder how you came to be standing, where you are and doing whatever it is you are doing. That is exactly how I felt when I found myself standing, with a bunch of bright lights shining in my face. I was holding a stick that is tied onto a giant aluminum bin. I think that I was supposed to be "strumming" strange instrument in time with the music.

What I knew was that it was opening night of our AS play As You Like it. How I ended up playing and instrument and singing while performing in a Shakespeare was beyond me. I thought that Shakespeare was about iambic pentameter and that sort of stuff.

Well anyway, I was doing it. I guess that sometimes, you just have to be willing to take a chance. Even though I had some strange Shakespeare solo and was playing an instrument that was probably made up, if I had never decided to try doing the play I never would have had all of the fun of being ridiculous.

Cairo

The color of the desert, he sits. Well actually it's not sitting.  He is standing at my feet squeaking his toy against my leg. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. He doesn't stop until you play with him.

Playing with him can be anything. If you run, her will chase you. If you throw the toy, he will fetch. If you grab the toy, he will play tug o' war. If you don't he will squeak and squeak and squeak. Eventually he will give up and start destroying stuff. He will ruin anything he can find.

His favorite is toilet paper. Or kleenex. Once, he took a bag of flour off of the counter and started eating it. This was, of course, on the first day of his diet. He is on a diet of kangaroo meat, oats and butternut squash.

There is no other way to describe my dog than 23 pounds of mischief. Cairo is one crazy dog.

Kindred (week two)

Still by Octavia E. Butler

Dana has travelled back in time and each time she goes her trip gets more and more dangerous and she fits more and more into a slave lifestyle. Now, she just needs to figure out how to stop going back.

I still think that this book is definitely worth reading. It gets even more interesting as you get further into it. I found the end a little bit confusing but it was still really well written. I would say that everyone should read this even if they don't like historical fiction. It is about a really important part of american history and just a really well written book.

Jez

White,

with spots.

Adorable, but aggressive

aggressiveness caused by anger.

Jezabelle,

sweet, lovable

protective and afraid

if she likes you,

she loves you.

Jez,

My dog.

Giants Ladder

Have you ever felt like you are just hanging upside down? Like, someone told you they would help you but they bailed? That's how I feel right now. Well, it's not how I feel it's actually where I am. Hanging upside down, holding on by legs and the harness around my waist, looking at my friend who was too afraid to keep climbing.

We are attempting the "Giant's Ladder" at camp. ever since I was seven and saw the Giants Ladder for the first time, I awaited the time when I would finally be allowed to do it. In the six years I waited, I got to attempt a different on, but I had always wanted to try the one at camp.

Now, was my chance. Unfortunately, my friend who is my partner on the ladder is afraid of heights. She wanted to try it, but after getting on the first rung, was scared and wanted to get down. So, I figure I'm going to have to make it by myself.

It is a real disappointment that the third rung wis too high for me to get on from the second rung. My arms aren't long enough to reach the next bar so there is no way for me to pull myself up. When I lifted my ankle on to it tried to push myself up I ended up here. Stuck, hanging upside down.

Oh well, I'll just have to try again another time. I think to myself.

Chewing Chewing Chewing

Anyone who knows me well has seen me with gum in my mouth at least once. I chew it most of the time. I don't particularly care how it tastes or if it tastes like anything at all. I care that I have something to occupy my mouth. I have it o that i can chew on something.

Ever since I was an infant I wanted to be chewing on something and have something in my mouth. When I was little I would chew on paper, napkins, paper towels and anything that I could. When I got a little older I would chew on my clothes. My sleeves, my shirt, any necklace or bracelet that I was wearing. Finally, my mom let me have gum. I would chew on it whenever I could.

I chew gum a lot but don't worry, I don't stash it behind my ear when I am eating and I certainly don't try to chew that same piece for as long as I can. That would be gross and I don't chew gum because I want to set the world record for most pieces chewed or anything like that. I chew gum because ever since I was little, I loved to chew on things.

Snow Day (Bleh)

I woke up at 6:28. I needed to get up extra early today so I had time to shovel/snow blow before we had to go to school. I mom was standing in the doorway. She whisper to me, something about there being a snow day and getting a call from the school. I said something about bleh and not liking snow days and went back to sleep.

When I woke about an hour later I went downstairs and turned on the TV, something we were usually only allowed to watch on the weekends. At least this is one good thing about a snow day. I thought. I watched TV for a little while until I remembered that the snowblower was sitting in our garage and (my dad being gone and my brother not being old enough to do it) I got the pleasure of blowing off the driveway.

Luckily, this time it took about a quarter of the amount of time that it had the weekend before. After blowing off our driveway and seeing, to my delight, that someone had already shoveled our sidewalk I tried to push the snowblower over to my neighbors' house. It took the same amount of time that blowing the driveway had taken.

I went back inside to see my brother cooking pancakes. After making a couple he gave up thinking that they were disgusting. I made a few more that were better than his before giving up. What kind of day is this going to be, after all it isn't even 10:00 in the morning yet. I thought to myself.

Bus Rides

Overnights are awesome. I got to go have a crawfish bake in Louisiana. I have hiked around the Yellowstone Caldera. There is no denying that both of those experiences were awesome. But there is one part of overnights that aren't so cool. I can't stand the long bus rides.

For starters, I get carsick. I have to be looking out of the window while I am on a bus. It is not fun to sit in the same place for six hours just looking at the repeating landscaping that looks a little bit like nowhere and is covered in yellow grass and sage bushes.

Because I get carsick it also means that I can't read. Sometimes I can play cards but that makes my head hurt which makes the trips even more unbearable. I can play car games such as "I'm Going on a Picnic" and "Contact." These games are fun but after seven hours they get a little old.

On top of the fact that I get carsick I am a person who is always over heating. The matter how high you have the air-conditioning blowing a small space with fourteen people on it and the sun cause the bus to get really hot. The heat makes my headache worse, of course. I get more carsick and I become super bored.

Along with the carsickness and the intense heat I get bored easily. I always like to be doing something. Of course, most of the time overnights are awesome for a person like me but the bus rides are practically torture.

For these reasons sometimes I am not super excited for a class trip. I think of all of the fun stuff....... then I remember the bus ride.

Some days

Some days are you just brain dead. You don't know what happened but it feels like there is fog, blocking your thoughts, making your eyes want to close and leaving you wondering if you should even be doing anything. That's how I feel sometimes.

A few days ago I was super brain-dead. I had spent the weekend thinking and thinking and thinking. I didn't even pause to think about not thinking so hard. On monday, I tried to keep up and used up more brain power. By tuesday my mind was fried. Usually, when I sit down to write the words just fly from my pencil and I have to stop and read what they say. On my brain-dead day, I spent an hour trying to think of the first word.

Another day, when my brain was fried, I wondered what would happen if I put water in sugar. Guess what! I was not excited but the results. Not being in a proper state of thinking, I put the soggy sugar in the microwave. When it came out, the results where not exciting. Not thinking I touched the bubbling sugar. Guess what! when you touch boiling sugar/water it hurts. It hurts really bad.

You know, somedays are just like that. I guess that I've just got to deal with it.

Book Blog 4/31

Imagine that you were all of the sudden sent back in time. Now, in this time you were sent to anybody who shares your skin color and can't prove otherwise is a slave. This is what happens to Dana. It appears that she was summoned to save a particular boy's life. The question is who is this boy and why has Dana been sent here. Not only does Dana have to figure out how to get home, she has also become a slave.

I am not finished with the book yet, but so far it has been really good. It is really well written and an excellent storyline. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone. It shows some important history and I think that just for that it is worth reading.

Going Back to Head Quarters (3/31)

I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. "Go, Go, Go," my brother yelled. "Come on, lets move it."

I was in front. My brother, with my grandpa following behind him, tailed me as I jumped off the stairs into the dimly lit basement. My grandpa was a little slower than us but as soon as we turned around was  right behind us. "Hold on," He said. "We are back at headquarters."

We were playing "bad guys," our favorite game ever. We played it every time Nani and Poppy, my grandparents, came town. The three of us, Poppy, Nathan and me, didn't take any breaks. We would run around the house for hours stopping only when we "found the bad guys."

That was how we played. My brother and I would run around like crazy, each holding a toy weapon, looking for invisible "bad guys" to fight against, Often times we would rescue Nani, my mom or my dad from robbers. Sometimes, we would pretend to go to people houses when they weren't home and stop intruders who had set of the alarm.

We never played bad guys by ourselves. The game was colorless. There was none to stay back at headquarters and give the orders while the other two went to find the villains. My grandpa made the game come alive for us. He would tell us when the bad guy was gone. He would run around and help us catch them. He would let me be in charge and my brother be second in command.

But then, he would get tired. He would have to lie down on the couch. His constantly broken foot would start hurting.

We don't play bad guys anymore. It was such an awesome memory with our grandpa. But, like I said, the game would be colorless if we played it by ourselves.

Slice of Life Challenge #2

Hi. My name is Danielle and my goal is to post a slice of life everyday in the month of march! Some more information about me is that I am en eighth grader in Linda's Class which is the blog that you kind find my posts through.

For this challenge I am going to be posting about past experiences the future and other cool stuff. I am little bit nervous that I will run out of ideas but I will probably be able to think of something. If your really interested in reading my stuff you should check out my blog at the beginning because by the end they might start to get a little bit boring. I know I shouldn't say that but it is true.

If you are doing this challenge as well I wish you good luck. And I hope that you enjoy my blog.

Blowing Snow (march 1st)

Snow slowly falls all around me as I climb my next-door neighbors steep driveway. Their garage door is open and between their two cars there is a snowblower. I take hold of it and try to push. It back down the driveway. It won't budge. I try to push it harder and tilt the front up slightly. This time, it moves a few inches forward.

I finally get it down the driveway into the deep February snow. I look down and there is a button that says it is for the "electric start" and to push it. I do. Nothing happens. I lean down to look closer at the button and out of the corner of my eye see the instructions for making it start. Following them I push the key farther into the slot until it clicks. Then I try and figure out what "turn the lever until it is in its full on position." I have no idea what lever the instructions are talking about and I don't see anything that says on.

"Danielle," someone calls out. "Do you need help getting that thing to start?"

"Yes." I reply. "I found the instructions but the aren't working."

"Ok. Bring it over here" the voice instructs.

I push the snowblower through the deep snow back to my house. This is going to take a long time. I think to myself. After all, I have to blow two driveways and the sidewalk and there is still more snow coming.