A blog is a blog for to publish thoughts from. This is where I will publish my thoughts. I've never had very many loyal readers, oh no I have not, but the few I had have probably all left me by now. For because I type nothing. I type nothing on my blog. So I have decided that I'm going to stop waiting around for something to say and I'm just gonna say it for christsakes. I mean look at the title of this one: y r u? What does it mean? y is it 4? Me don't know. Me no like game days. What? Sorry.
Commencing the random thoughts.
I believe that my last blog was on October 26, 2007. It's still 2007. That's good. This has been shaping up to be a pretty good year for me. I mean look at this: I got into All-state honor band! I still can't believe it. That was LAST MONTH and i still can't believe it. What a cool thing to have happen to me.
I lot of stuff like that has been happening to me. cool things. granted, none of them are quite as prestigious as All-State, but it's the little things, you know? The little things.
Since I last posted, I have become addicted to facebook. Mainly I just add applications and than delete them. I don't really even talk to anybody that much. I can't quite get into talking to people on the internet. Well, I have always been kind of a social freak. From Africa.
There are several people that I have gotten closer to, and people that I don't talk to at all anymore, and then those people that I see all the time, but I wish I were closer to. Story of my life. Story of all of our lives.
Speaking of stories and lives, I have begun to write a novel. Expect an excerpt to be posted VERY SOON. I like to blog.
I'm sorry that this blog had absolutely nothing to say.
Sorry.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Harry Potter Rip-Off
Okay guys, ever since I was young it's kind of been my dream to be a writer. When I was eight years old, I wrote my first book, an American Rip-off of Harry Potter called "Poppy McEnnin". Today I unearthed the beginning of a second draft to this book, and I would love to share it with everyone. It's not good, but it's pretty good for a third grader.
Chapter 1
Full House
Poppy Mcennin was a nine year old girl who lived with oridanary people. She lived in a log cabin in minosota. She lived with her many sibleens, Even, Magie, Billy, Jessica, Ben, Garry, and ash, and her grandparents and her parents. Evan was short with brown hair. Magie was bossy sometimes…all the time! Billy had no charisticks. Jessica only cared about fassion. Ben could get studip, but mostly smart. Garry and Ash were always lost in a world of fantasy. The grandparents were boring. Her parents were strict. The funny thing about Poppys family was that Poppy was the only one in the whole family with red hair! Pretty weird, huh? Once Jessica had brown hair but when Poppy wished it was red the next morning it was blond!
Poppy was fascinated with magic. She Dreamed of being a magiceon when she grew up. She already knew a few card tricks. She was stuggeling on changing things into other thing. Her grandparents weren’t interested in magic aat all (they weren’t interested in any thing!).Poppys favoret boods were the cronicles of narnia.
Our story starts one buetiful June morning. Poppy got up and looked inside her bueatiful Dresser. It was made of bueatiful smooth red wood. It was carved beautifully. Poppy looked in the dresser to find that the ugly dress her mother bought was no where in sight. “Good riddence.” Mumbled Poppy. She put on her best dress (Her uncles family was comeing to live at the log cabin today) and she went downstairs to breakfast. All the boys in the house were digging a tunnel that led to a small underground room in the Kitchen. The room was for Poppys four year old cousins Anna and Susana who both had short black hair. Right now they’re probably getting ready to move to minsota while singing “We’re going to live in a whole! We’re going to live in a hole!” Just then Billy walked in. Poppy couldn’t wait until Uncle Bob moved in. He was bringing Uncle Rob, Ant Dolly, Anna, and Susana. Uncle Bob and Uncle Rob. were comedians. Aunt Dolly was an elegent lady. Anna and Susana were stirring up trouble all the time. Speaking of time, it was 10:30. Uncle Bob and his family showed up at midnight. The whole family stayed up and had a party. All seventeen people stayed up all night watching Poppy try magic tricks and Uncle Bob and Uncle Rob tell Jokes. What a full house.
Chapter 1
Full House
Poppy Mcennin was a nine year old girl who lived with oridanary people. She lived in a log cabin in minosota. She lived with her many sibleens, Even, Magie, Billy, Jessica, Ben, Garry, and ash, and her grandparents and her parents. Evan was short with brown hair. Magie was bossy sometimes…all the time! Billy had no charisticks. Jessica only cared about fassion. Ben could get studip, but mostly smart. Garry and Ash were always lost in a world of fantasy. The grandparents were boring. Her parents were strict. The funny thing about Poppys family was that Poppy was the only one in the whole family with red hair! Pretty weird, huh? Once Jessica had brown hair but when Poppy wished it was red the next morning it was blond!
Poppy was fascinated with magic. She Dreamed of being a magiceon when she grew up. She already knew a few card tricks. She was stuggeling on changing things into other thing. Her grandparents weren’t interested in magic aat all (they weren’t interested in any thing!).Poppys favoret boods were the cronicles of narnia.
Our story starts one buetiful June morning. Poppy got up and looked inside her bueatiful Dresser. It was made of bueatiful smooth red wood. It was carved beautifully. Poppy looked in the dresser to find that the ugly dress her mother bought was no where in sight. “Good riddence.” Mumbled Poppy. She put on her best dress (Her uncles family was comeing to live at the log cabin today) and she went downstairs to breakfast. All the boys in the house were digging a tunnel that led to a small underground room in the Kitchen. The room was for Poppys four year old cousins Anna and Susana who both had short black hair. Right now they’re probably getting ready to move to minsota while singing “We’re going to live in a whole! We’re going to live in a hole!” Just then Billy walked in. Poppy couldn’t wait until Uncle Bob moved in. He was bringing Uncle Rob, Ant Dolly, Anna, and Susana. Uncle Bob and Uncle Rob. were comedians. Aunt Dolly was an elegent lady. Anna and Susana were stirring up trouble all the time. Speaking of time, it was 10:30. Uncle Bob and his family showed up at midnight. The whole family stayed up and had a party. All seventeen people stayed up all night watching Poppy try magic tricks and Uncle Bob and Uncle Rob tell Jokes. What a full house.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Rhymes with Sad: The Story of my Plaid.
Once upon a time I woned a plaid jacket. It wasn't really a jacket, just a heavy man's shirt. But I used it for more than I've ever used any other garment in my life.
I got it on Thanksgiving in 2006. We were going to go for a walk around Gray's Lake and my Dad was worried that I was going to be cold. At the time I was prety anti-jacket and I kept telling him that I would be fine.
Anyway, Dad didn't want me to be cold so he brought out one of his old plaid shirts for me to wear. It was plaid on the outside with some weird, cold, smooth material on the inside...I don't know what to call it, but it was dark blue. Anyway, once I put on the jacket I fell in love with it. For some reason it just made me feel beautiful. Maybe it was just because deep down I felt really touched that my Dad had given it to me.
From Thanksgiving on, the plaid and I were inseperable. I wore it whenever I could get away with wearing it. Not even just when i was cold, but all the time. I think I even slept in it a couple of times.
So the days roll on...when February comes I'm forced to think about the physical status of the thing...it's got holes in it. The holes were always there, but now they're getting bigger. Buttons have fallen off. There are so many imperfections in the fabric that I can tell that I am going to have to throw it away soon, or watch it slowly destroy itself. My beloved plaid jacket: reduced to mere rags. But I couldn't bear to throw it away. Never. I needed a miracle.
One night I'm wearing it at one of my band concerts, over my uniform. I know that I can't wear it onstage so right before we go on I take it off and put it on a bench. I'll be able to find it after the concert. I know I will.
What happens next is the most magical part of the whole story. To the unbeliever it might seem as if a custodian had seen the rag of a thing sitting so near to a trashcan and thrown it away, assuming it was trash. Mayhaps that is what happened. I wouldn't blame anyone for assuming that thing was trash. But it's more likely that my plaid jacket pulled an Elijah: taken straight up into heaven without ever having to die. Personally, I like to think that it was taken to the lost and found, where someone else found it and made it their own, having just as much fun with it as I did. If my plaid can make someone else happy than it was worth losing it.
It's the mystery of the story that I like best. All I know is that when I cam back for it, it wasn't there. I'll never know what exactly happened to it, which is much better than having to finally bring myself to throw it away after it falls apart. I compare the story to that of Marilyn Monroe. She died young, in a mysterious way, so that she would remain young forever in our memories.
Sometimes I still miss my plaid jacket, but I was never sad about it being gone. I'll always have the memories.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Chad is Chad
Chad is Chad.
Chad is my friend.
I am friends with Chad.
Chad is cool.
Chad is crazy.
Chad is obsessed with Jack Sparrow.
Chad is too lazy to come to my marching band show.
I didn't go to his either.
Chad is a marching band nerd.
I am a marching band nerd.
Chad and I are both marching band nerds.
Chad and I are friends.
Chad is the star of Chadtalk.
Chad wanted me to write a blog about him.
Chad is a lot of things.
Chad is Chad.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Witnessing Doesn't Work
So we're Christians, right? We believe in Christ, and now we know our next job: to spread the word. Spread the word of Christ to all the nonbelievers.
And that's hard.
But it also doesn't work.
I only say this because it is the title of my blog entry. But let me explain how I came to this opinion.
Today after school I was talking to a very good friend of mine who happened to be carrying around a book about Wicca. A christian guy at my school that I know asked her if she was Wiccan. She said no. He asked her if she believed in Heaven and Hell. She said that she believed in Heaven, not so much Hell. He asked her that if she died tomorrow, where would she go, heaven or hell. She said she didn't know.
And here's the thing. She was appalled by his behaviour! I think she saw it as a personal attack on her. I have another good friend that was trying to tell her that she had to pray a special prayer to get into heaven. I think she misunderstood this as well. She thought that we were trying to force weird beliefs on her.
I didn't know what to say. I could've used this as an opportunity to try to witness to her, or see where she stands with the whole religion thing, but after hearing her tell about those two experiences with christians that I know, I had no idea how to approach it.
Now I have questions for you, reader. And by that I mean Patrick. I'm not trying to make a point or looking for a specific answer. I just don't know.
-What's more important about witnessing: that you are preaching the word of God to them whether they accept it or not, or that you are listening to them and trying to make sense out of their beliefs, even if it means not saying everything that you want to drive your own point home?
-Did you think that that was a really long confusing question?
-How would you, readers, talk to my friend in this situation (assuming that all my readers are chistian)?
-Is there a point when you decide to stop driving your point and just decide to let it go?
In my opinion, witnessing is the hardest part of Christianity. The hardest part is when you're so emotionally attached to one of you're friends and they can't understand the very most important part of your life.
And that's hard.
But it also doesn't work.
I only say this because it is the title of my blog entry. But let me explain how I came to this opinion.
Today after school I was talking to a very good friend of mine who happened to be carrying around a book about Wicca. A christian guy at my school that I know asked her if she was Wiccan. She said no. He asked her if she believed in Heaven and Hell. She said that she believed in Heaven, not so much Hell. He asked her that if she died tomorrow, where would she go, heaven or hell. She said she didn't know.
And here's the thing. She was appalled by his behaviour! I think she saw it as a personal attack on her. I have another good friend that was trying to tell her that she had to pray a special prayer to get into heaven. I think she misunderstood this as well. She thought that we were trying to force weird beliefs on her.
I didn't know what to say. I could've used this as an opportunity to try to witness to her, or see where she stands with the whole religion thing, but after hearing her tell about those two experiences with christians that I know, I had no idea how to approach it.
Now I have questions for you, reader. And by that I mean Patrick. I'm not trying to make a point or looking for a specific answer. I just don't know.
-What's more important about witnessing: that you are preaching the word of God to them whether they accept it or not, or that you are listening to them and trying to make sense out of their beliefs, even if it means not saying everything that you want to drive your own point home?
-Did you think that that was a really long confusing question?
-How would you, readers, talk to my friend in this situation (assuming that all my readers are chistian)?
-Is there a point when you decide to stop driving your point and just decide to let it go?
In my opinion, witnessing is the hardest part of Christianity. The hardest part is when you're so emotionally attached to one of you're friends and they can't understand the very most important part of your life.
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