Last Blog Post

            So here it goes. The last blog post. I don’t know if I’m happy or sad. I’m happy because it means this school year is coming to a close and I’ll no longer be graded on my writing (although I feel like it wasn’t really graded, just checked to see if it was there). I’m sad because maybe, since I’m not required, I’ll stop writing. But I watched this show called “Mortified,” on Netflix, where people read out their diary from teenage years to the audience. It made me want to start writing in mine again. I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with my diary since 2010, when Esther got it for me. It’s so funny to me that I can spend an hour writing in that thing. Literally. My hand will start hurting. But I’m getting off topic. I’m supposed to talk about Mr. Thomas’s class.

            The first day of school, I knew I’d lucked out. Even if I didn’t like the class itself, Mr. Thomas was cool. And then I ended up liking the class because Mr. Thomas was cool. When I got a 9 on the first writing assignment, I was pretty hype. But then I didn’t get anymore. Sad face. That’s okay though. I think I have grown as a student. My ability to write under the pressure of time has definitely improved. I think my writing is better. I also think from now on, I will be putting more value and effort into my writing. I get a major sense of pride when I get a good grade or good feedback on a writing assignment. So I think in the future, I won’t think of it as just an essay, but ‘my work,’ if that makes sense. How has this course prepared me for life? Well, it’s like what Mr. Thomas said the other day. About literature being a way for him to teach life lessons and whatnot. Whenever I’ve read literature for school, I’ve never thought much about the meaning of the book. I only thought about the grade I’d receive for reading it. But Mr. Thomas has taught me to delve deeper. So I guess I’ve learned that textbooks aren’t the only educational books.

            Now to answer the questions provided about the curriculum. I felt the argumentative essay was the most difficult to write. This is mainly because I have a hard time thinking of H.E.L.P. examples right on the spot. The easiest essay for me was rhetorical analysis. The information you’ll need is provided, and it’s not an overwhelming amount like the synthesis. And I think I’m pretty good at analyzing why an author used a specific device. But maybe I’m just regular at it. Either way that was the easiest essay to me. My favorite book was The Things They Carried. I liked the concept of how O’Brien told the stories and how he presented the themes. And, I’m ashamed to say, but the most I knew about the Vietnam War was what I learned from watching “Forrest Gump.”  I’ve never thought about how traumatic and life changing being a soldier is. So I liked that it got me thinking. The novel I enjoy the least has to be The Great Gatsby. I know some people love the book and would gasp if I ever said this aloud. But hey, it is what it is. And it is very slow to me and I feel like there are so many details that I just don’t care about at all. Like the names of all the people who attended Gatsby’s parties that summer. I already understand that there were a lot of people, some who were influential and some who were nobodys, just from the descriptions of the parties. I did not need to know specific names. And it takes me forever to read (this isn’t the first time I’ve read it.) I feel like I’ve been reading for an eternity, and then I’ve only gone through two pages! So yeah, I don’t love The Great Gatsby.

            Something I’d like you to know: I really have enjoyed this class. I like starting my day in English with Mr. Thomas. I feel like I’ve learned a lot and that I was prepared as much as possible for the AP test. More so than my other AP class. On the first day, I didn’t really know anyone that well in the class. But now I’m pretty cool with some pretty cool people. I think that’s due to the easygoing atmosphere that is always present in Mr. Thomas’s room. I always feel welcome in there, and I’ve never felt scared to ask a question. There have been some questionable questions in 1^st period, but I don’t think Mr. Thomas has ever responded inappropriately rudely. Just a little teasing. There was never a day that I walked in Mr. Thomas’s room and didn’t laugh before leaving. I think that’s important as stressful as school can be, especially for a junior. I don’t make a point to like my teachers, just because I feel like they don’t care very much about being liked. But Mr. Thomas has definitely become one of my favorite teachers, and I’m going to miss his class next year. Thank you so much, Mr. Thomas. I hope you’ve had a great year and have a great summer!

Baggage

       The things we carry are significant to us. We each carry different things for different reasons. I didn’t realize how much people carry until this week. Whether it’s physical, mental, or emotional. Whether tangible or intangible, it all weighs down on us. Some stuff is worth carrying, some isn’t.

       A physical item that I always have to have on my person is a ponytail holder. It can be in my hair, on my wrist, or in my pocket, but I have to have it. Sometimes I love my hair, sometimes I hate it. But as long as I have a ponytail holder, I can handle it, no matter how I’m feeling about it in that moment. Also, there are so many things I can’t do with my hair down. I can’t eat with it down. Can’t read with it down. Can’t play volleyball or basketball with it down. Can’t write an essay with it down. Can’t photograph anything with it down. Whenever I leave the house, I make sure I have a ponytail holder with me. On the rare occasion that I forget it, I automatically know I’ll need and will feel uncomfortable without it. When the time comes that I need it, I frantically ask around for one. Sometimes I’m rescued, moretimes not. And during those moretimes, I suffer deeply. Then and there I vow to never leave the without a ponytail holder ever again. I won’t even go into the betrayal I feel when my ponytail holder breaks as I’m putting my hair up. I need to have a ponytail holder at all times.

       A goal I’ve set for my life is to be better off than my parents. I don’t want my kids to worry about finances the way I do. I love my parents and I know they’re doing all they can. But I also know we’re not doing so great and it sucks. I want to become a famous photographer. I want to be world renowned, but I’m worried that’s not going to happen. And if it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. I want to go to an art school for college and get a bachelor’s in photography. But my parents don’t want me to go to an art school because they want me to learn more than just photography, in case that doesn’t work out. But maybe going to an art school will be the difference between becoming successful and not. I don’t know. My future is really unclear to me at this point in my life. That scares me.

      My Martha. My confidant, my inspiration, my “person” is God. I know that sounds funny in this day and age and mean it, but it’s true. I’ve had a really close relationship with Him for awhile now. I can tell God anything and everything. Ask Him for anything. I know I have Someone who loves me, protects me, will always take care of me. I know whatever I do, God will forgive me. Recently I’ve kind of been distancing myself from Him. Lately I’ve been doing some things that I don’t know how He would feel about them. Sometimes I feel like maybe do, but then I’ll talk to someone about it, and then I’m back to not knowing. The thing about always being forgiven, is you can take advantage of that. So I’ll reason: well, He’ll forgive me, so it’s okay to do. You’d think He’d be all, “Oh she’s gunna take advantage of me like that, I’m not going to forgive her.” So I shouldn’t take advantage of him just because I know He’ll forgive me. But we’re taught in the church that He forgives EVERYTHING. So then why not.  Because I shouldn’t want to, that’s why not. But sometimes I want to. I’m confusing and confused. But even though I’m going through all this inner struggling, I still tell Him everything and try to do what He would want, as much as I can. I like to think I’m still close to Him. But it’s gotten harder to tell recently.

       Three adjectives that I would use to describe me are kind, fun(ny), and trustworthy. Kind- if someone needs help, I do what I can for them. Fun(ny)-  I think I’m funny. I think a lot of my friends would say otherwise, because haters gone hate. Obviously. I’m more silly/goofy funny than actual funny. It’s cause my dad is so corny that if you covered him in butter and stuck him in a microwave for about 1:30 you’d be all set for a movie. Trustworthy- you ask me not to tell anyone, my lips are sealed. Even if I’m not asked to not tell, I know what’s appropriate to share and what’s not. A lot of other people recognize it as well, but don’t respect it. I’m not someone who can talk about others, just to talk about them, make them look bad. I’m also trustworthy because I follow through on my word. I think others perceive me as optimistic. A lot of people tell me they don’t see me without a smile and that I always look happy. Which I wouldn’t say I’m always happy, but it’s nice that others do. I want to have the kind of personality that brightens someone’s day.

      One memory that shapes who I am would be my Confirmation. Confirmation is a Sacrament in the Catholic Church that basically means I accept Jesus as my Christ and Savior because I truly believe it, not because my parents are forcing me to. Then there are all the memories I have of when my nieces lived here. I have three nieces that are around me and my sister’s age. We were best friends, us five. We made so many crazy, fun, awesome memories together that we’ll never forget. They keep us close to this day. I also remember the day my best friend came out to me.  I remember feeling so happy that she felt comfortable enough, with herself and with me, that she could finally share that. And knowing that her being gay didn’t change how I felt about her in the least. I have the memories of my sister. Her bad decisions and how they affected my family. Those memories have definitely played a part in knowing who I don’t want to be, as harsh as that is. But I have some good memories with Zoe, too. I know she’s not all bad. I remember times she’s been sweet and nicer to me than I would have been to her. I could go on and on about all the memories I have. I’m sure anyone could. But those are some of the memories closet to my heart,

      So those are a few of the things I carry. It’s a heavy weight, but it makes me stronger. So no complaints here.

"Third Option"

GUMBO!!!!

         Some people are proud of their heritage. They do all they can to represent their parents' culture. Other people are ashamed of where their parents came from, their past, so they do everything they can to hide it. But as Americans, the younger generations are raised in a completely different culture. So what we were asked to write about this week was how do we preserve our parents' culture, but create our own at the same time. Is it possible?

        I think it's possible. I'm black and white, Momma's black Dad's white. People always ask me, 'So, if you had to choose between black or white, what would you choose?' That makes me mad. I'm not black or white, I'm black and white. People will tell me me I act white. But what do I do that I act white? Because I could've sworn I was just being myself. "Being the third option," because that's my only option. I think a lot of people are hypocrites because they expect others to accept them when they're trying to create their own culture and be their own person, but then still try to confine others to their parents backgrounds. No matter what, I'm wrong. Whether it's, "Ali, you can't do that, you're black!" or "Ali, you can't cay that, you're white!" I'm not allowed to be black and white, even though I am. After 16 years of this, I try to let it roll off me. But when it's so consistent, it's hard. I like to think of myself as an optimistic person, so I've forced myself to see a good side, I've decided it's a learning lesson. And it's taught me to never constrain someone to their parent's background and just let them be their own person.

          Now about being the "third option." I find it easy for me to be the third option, it's just being accepted as it is what I briefly me mentioned in the paragraph. I think Dee Wangero went about it the completely wrong way. Well, she got the whole 'displaying my heritage' part right. But her whole feeling if superiority to her mother was not okay. I don't understand how it made sense to her to "appreciate" her ancestry's past, but not the specific ancestors that went through it. I think the first step in being the third option is being respectful of the people and

          I think the only way to be the third option is by not letting other people's narrow minds affect how and who you are. You should just do what you want and make your culture what you want it to be.

traditions that came before you. You need to show the same respect that you want for the new culture you're creating. I think you should also participate in at least one custom from your parent's culture. I believe your parents are part of who you are, whether you like it or not. Their background played a part in how you were raised. So if you join them in celebrating their culture and what's special, whether that's eating a certain meal, or doing a dance, they'll more readily recognize that they should show the same value for your culture, even though it might be new and different to them.

         I think the only way to be the third option is by not letting other people's narrow minds affect how and who you are. You should just do what you want and make your culture what you want it to be.

How to Write About a Haunted House

         Today I'm talking about haunted houses and how many of their characteristics originated from Edgar Allan Poe's first Haunted House, "The House of Usher." I'd like to start out by mentioning that I hate scary movies. Why anyone would want to be scared on purpose is beyond me. So the only haunted house movie I can recall seeing is Disney's Monster House, and I'm sure many people would argue that that doesn't even count. But to each his own. I think if House of Usher was made into a movie, it'd definitely make it onto my "Never Want to See This" List. But if I were ever to write a story or direct a movie about a haunted house (which I never would), I'd probably do a few things the same.

 

         One would be Edgar Allan Poe's figurative language and diction. Every simile, every metaphor, every descriptive detail alludes to the dying, death, and dread that the House of Usher contains. Even before the narrator has stepped inside, he describes the frightening atmosphere around the house and we already know as the readers that nothing good is going to come once he does. At the beginning of the story, by describing the feeling as an opium addict coming down from their high, "the hideous dropping off of the veil," and Poe outlines how depressing the air encompassing the house is. "There was an iciness, a sinking, sickening of the heart," has the repetitive 'sss' sound of a hissing snake or the sizzling of burning. Both uses of figurative language indicate the horrible sorrow he is engulfed with when approaching the House of Usher. Poe's description of the feelings surrounding the house is what alerts the reader that something isn't quite right about the house. So if I were to write about a haunted house, I'd definitely try to convey what an awful place it is by using distinctively ominous word choice. I'd try to think of the creepiest things I've learned about and the most disheartening feelings I've ever felt or seen and use those to describe the almost tangible apprehension the character feels upon reaching the haunted house.

         Two is obvious. There has to be a dark setting. I'm not going to scare anyone of it's springtime in some sunny city. Poe's story begins on a, "dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year," and, "a singularly dreary tract of country," is where it's located. The house itself is dark and crumbling. In the front yard is a gray pond and the area is surrounded by dead and decaying trees (obviously Poe's portrayal is scarier.) For my story, I'd make it during the winter, so it's dark and cold outside all the time (unless you're in Houston, of course.) Maybe I'd have it set in the mountains, to emphasize how desolate it is and give the impression that nobody will come in and save the day because nobody knows where it is. A dark setting can accent a haunted house very nicely.

       The third thing Poe included n The House of Usher that should go with every other haunted house story or movie is a shuddersome background. He used incest. The Usher blood stayed in one line. That's not something you hear about in every family (lets hope not anyways.) The backstory of the house gives it a reason to be haunted. For example in Monster House (okay maybe it's not scary, but it's still a haunted house), the house was possessed by the fat lady who died in it. She thought her husband killed her on purpose, but it was actually an accident that happened while the house was being built. But anyways, it wasn't haunted just to be haunted, it was haunted because of the legacy before it, as in the House of Usher. In my story, I think I would have the grounds formerly have been somewhere where many people died. That'd be a good reason for the house to be possessed.

        My fourth aspect I'd have in my haunted house plot would be to have a reason the protagonist had to stay. Because if they don't, then they'd book it as soon as weird stuff started to happen. The narrator's reason in The House of Usher is because his childhood friend is sick and wants company to distract him from his impending death. This characterizes the narrator as caring, so now you feel that much worse for him that he has all this creepiness going on around him. If there wasn't a reason as to why he absolutely had to stay at the house, I'd spend most of the story wondering why he hadn't left and then I'd think he deserved it for being dumb enough to stay. The reason my main character would have to stay in the haunted house would be because they came right when a snowstorm hits. They heard on the radio that people need to stay indoors for the next 48 hours. Making it mandatory for the protagonist heightens the suspense of a haunted house story.

       Five: End the story with questions running through the readers' or audiences' mind. Poe makes the reader question if the House of Usher was even real in the first place! Or was it just a figment of the narrator's imagination? These are the questions people! Or that is The question, rather. This would probably be the hardest thing to incorporate into my piece. Edgar does it with such finesse. I guess you'll just have to wait and read my book or watch my movie, don't want to spoil the ending!

America's Infatuation with the Occult

          America's fascination with the occult is quite peculiar. America began on the foundation of religion. When I think about religion, I think about having faith in something that brings joy, peace, and happiness to your life. But America has turned it into something evil and that cannot be trusted.It only focuses on finding the tainted, even when it's not there. And there are many cases throughout American culture.

        Probably the most memorable example of America's fascination with the occult, and maybe even the first example was the Salem Witch Trials. During this time, innocent women were persecuted for oddities in their character or "unnatural" occurrences happening in the town. This demonstrates that America, one, rejected people that were different, and two, had to figure out an explanation for everything. If the answer could not be found in the Bible or at church, it was the Devil at work. So basically early Americans needed a reason for everything that happened, which resulted in the belief of dark forces working through people.

        Another example of occult in American culture is all the famous celebrities claiming to be in the Illuminati. Many rappers and singers have been seen throwing their hands up in a triangle, a symbol of the Illuminati. There are no other such public  displays in other countries. What does that say about America? It says that America considers underground evil societies  cool and fashionable. Image is so important in America. People will do just about anything to get looked at.

        And lastly, after doing some research, I found out that the Ouija originated from none other than the good old U.S. of A. In the late 19th century the (and to this day) the Ouija board allowed people to communicate with unseen spirits. A Ouija board has all the letters on it, number 0-9, a "yes" and a "no," and a "goodbye." Two or more people ask a question, place their fingers on the planchette, and let it guide their fingers to the answer. Again, America is the only country that made it a fun pastime to "speak" with the dead. This can be interpreted to mean Americans are very interested about the afterlife or have too much time on their hands. No matter which way we look at it, or what the reasoning is, America has a bizarre obsession with the occult.

P.S. I wrote this first again, but that was mostly because my dad was on the computer.

Anti Heroes

             So this is my first blog post. I lterally wrote this on a piece of paper before I typed it up. I guess I'm the only the only 90's baby that isn't a technology person. Last semester my friend said her Iphone was being slow or freexing up or something. I asked her why didn't she take the battery out and put it back in (I got my frist smart phone over winter break.)But anyways, maybe in the future I'll be able to just type without having to write beforehand. I'm sure that's what Mr. Thomas is hoping for. I have no problem writing (or typing) until I'm actually given something I have to write about a specific topic. So here's my attempt at anti heroes.

             The defintion of an anti hero is a central character in a story, movie, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes. In case you were wondering. Because it's not like I was the one who didn't know.... I will now compare Ichabod Crane, the weird antihero from Sleepy Hollows, to Perry Smith, the troubled, murderous anithero from In Cold Blood.
 
              Ichabod and Perry both came from mysterious backgrounds. All we learn about Ichabod's past is that he was born in Connecticut.  We don't know anything else about him. There are so many unanswered questions. What was his childhood like? Why made him decide to teach children? Does he have any close family or friends? The same goes for Perry. Even though this time we're given a pretty detailed past, there are still plenty of questions. Why did his parents allow things to get so bad in the first place? Why didn't they show Perry and his siblings more love and affection? For Ichabod and Perry, the answers to these question had a major influence on the people they became.

               Something else Ichabod and Perry share in common is their need to use others for the benefit that they themselves will recieve. Ichabod seems as though he is inlove with Katrina. But when admiring her home and thinking about the future they could have together he seems more infatuated with the Van Tassle fortune than the girl. Perry used Dick and his plans in order to get funds so he could go deep-sea treasure hunting in Mexico. In both instances, the men don't care about the feelings of the other person. They only care about getting what they want.

                 And finally (finally), Ichabod and Perry both ended up "losing." Ichabod Crande did not get the girl and was either run out of town by the Headless Horseman or bewitched by him. Either way it's an unexpected ending. And we all know what happened to Perry Smith. The death penalty became his fate. Neither men ended up with what they'd wanted. I think it's safe to say that anti heroes don't recieve the storybook happy ending that other protagonists do.

                  So there. I finished writing, or typing I mean, my first blog post. Sorry there are no pictures, maybe next time. Fingers crossed that the next one comes easier to me.