Day 1 of D.C

Wow. 2 weeks just flew by and I'm at my table in disbelief that summer is about to end. And that I must share  up to 13 days of experience on the East Coast to you. Yes you who are reading this I must write for your convince. No I'm kidding. Guessing the adventure starts...........................................................now.

So it was july 3rd we came in. The searing  heat was annoying. My hair was a fumbling mess. Let alone my clothes from the storm. But now it was July 4th and I really wanted to see what D.C was about. So after marching on the metro (which compared to bart is heaven on wheels hovering over hell ) towards the national.  My city girl instincts quickly rushed in after pushing past probably a good 400 people to where we could see the parade on the side walk. Looking around my eyes drifting to the thousands of people on the streets just to see what I had come to see. A fricking parade. I sat in the back with my sister looking at peoples shoes because in the Bay Area, I never saw people wear that many running shoes. In awe we saw more feet than parade for the 3 hour period.

After the stand in the crowd my family and I by mid after noon headed towards the National Monument. The obelisk was breathe taking. So many people standing to get one good picture. Freaking out when someone walked in the view finder. Humans. I asked my dad if we could go to the folklife festival. I had heard about it, but knew it was the size of alameda on the National Mall. Hurrying over to see that this was not just a festival. It was a gathering of people from every ethnic group to pass on their heritage. The Africans, the Asians, Middle Easterner's, Islanders, the Americans, the Latinos. Not to stray but Africans have very similar food to Tibetans and I recommend you try Bassap Juice which is hibiscus flower. Amazing. Believe me. We passed on to the peace corp section where people from all over the world had wrote what year they served and a note. I wrote my dad's name for Nepal and Honduras. My mother for Nepal. Strange enough they found their old friends and their contact numbers, like a high school reunion for travelers.

Around the time of 8:30 we headed to the National Mall again, but this time facing the Lincoln memorial. Because we got front row seats to the fireworks everyone in America wants to see. If you don't believe me, we were so close to the fireworks the sound could be felt in your body for more than a minute. We were so close the pieces of the rockets fell all over us. I even caught one in my hair about the size of a baseball.

I had never seen colors rush in the air so fast that the night sky had guzzled it up like a meal. Never did I hear sounds of boom that made me want to run closer. If you've never been to D.C. in your life, stop time and go there. You'll never want to return where you came from.

Photos:

Day 1!

Day 1                                                                                                                                        July 3, 2011

So journal writing for the summer. Thank god. Helps my gears turn even when I’m on vacation. 

Anyways to start this off, my father told me it would be hot out here (meaning in D.C.). I laughed and shrugged him off. In the event I said that as we landed, I could see the sweat beads on the palms of my hand. Being a person who hardly ever sweats even during the heat in p.e covered in a black jacket. Now in skinnies and a bleach white shirt, wrapped in the sultry nature of the Baltimore area. The sun was shinning through the heavens, no clouds. Not even one as I look through the clear window of the airport. People stare. Everyone is in shorts revealing legs or a bare back. I quickly walk out the edgy sitch in the airport, to the grueling wait for our 4 bags weighing in around 30 pounds each for a 2 week stay come in. Lugging my huge pack as I look at my mothers small valise, I regret bringing so much. 

Suddenly the automatic doors open to the large pick up/ drop off area and a wall of heat hits so fast I couldn’t breathe right for the next 4 minutes. We walk towards the bus. I was wondering why the heck we couldn’t take a car. But that will prove itself during the stay. After the long ride from Baltimore  to the metro rail near the University Of Maryland (which is my dream school) we head to metropolitan D.C. As we step out side waiting for a taxi, it immediately began to rain so hard that the streets signs blew backwards and the wind could push my dad back. I never had so much fun standing in a storm in the middle of a city.

We arrive late around 8 p.m. because we are 3 hours ahead of California. How I missed the West Coast. I lay in bed home sick, I loved our new town house, but not like home.

Somehow I had the ability to eat sluggishly and doze off to bed. That is until the neighbors began to show off their speakers.

Life In D.C

So sadly today is my last day in D.C. I was thinking about writing something along the lines of a journal of my days but then I didn't have enough time. So I'm hoping that I have some memory and that my brain isn't on snooze mode so I can write my experiences.

Just a quicky, if anyone's been to florida, you haven't seen anything. D.C is almost 100 degrees everyday and it's humid. May sound just like Florida. No. Your dreaming. Washington's heat is killer. Thankfully I'm used to wearing a jacket in the heat so it wasn't so horrible. Compared to Chicago mother nature was neutral.

Getting to the point of security out here. No matter where you go nor what your looking at, you are bound to run into an officer. I cannot tell you how many times we (me and the tourists) had to be searched in order to get anywhere. Even a bottle of melon lotion would be thrown out, no matter how ashy you were.
Thankfully, that didn't happen, at least to me.

Yet something amazing happened in these 2 weeks. Not only did I get to see His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, but met Ghandi's grandson and Martin Luther's Son. You do not know how much I wanted to run out of my seat and down to talk to Mr. Ghani's grandson. Rembering the movies I've seen of him and reading his biographies, seeing his relative was just so inspirational. I feel so lucky to know that my culture out of many, have so many followers and guiders.

Okay so there's the 411 on what happened in two weeks in extremely short detail. Keep in touch because more is coming!
Adios!

Cyber Bullying: What are we doing to end it?

 So I know this comes from a short notice, and since school is over there is nothing much to do before the wheels turn on the days to come. But a recent issue has come across me and a majority of pre-teens and teens. Cyber Bullying. What's better than to spend some days on the computer over break? But problems may arise, how do you stop it? Do you keep going? I am no expert but I can give you advice from experience, and data. Students are using Instant Messaging, e-mails, chat rooms, facebook, myspace and websites to make peers feel unwanted and hurt. By affecting them emotionally and targeting weaknesses in the victim. This sure may not be physical warning, but this destroys the mental aspect of the person. The human brain is complex, from hold up to 5 times more the the encyclopedia britannica in each cell. But think of being consecutively bullied and having that thought in your head. The information we keep can determine how we feel, what we like, what we avoid. Living in fear because of threats is horrifying and needs to be stopped. The data shown here by i-safe INC states :

•

• 42% of kids have been bullied while online. 1 in 4 have had it happen more than once.

• 35% of kids have been threatened online. Nearly 1 in 5 have had it happen more than once.

• 21% of kids have received mean or threatening e-mail or other messages.

• 58% of kids admit someone has said mean or hurtful things to them online. More than 4 out of 10 say it has happened more than once.

• 53% of kids admit having said something mean or hurtful to another person online. More than 1 in 3 have done it more than once.

• 58% have not told their parents or an adult about something mean or hurtful that happened to them online.

What is the biggest shock is the worst possible things written on this list are the ones with the highest percentage. Victims feel that telling will make them a snitch, and a wimp, but protecting yourself is much more important than the awful names at the stick. But the bully has been able to convert the simple words of everyday in t a powerful, painful script into the mind. 

Words bully's use are simply just words to us sometimes. Sometimes they can be vulgar and towards some ones sexuality, but still they are  just words. The bully can change the meaning to something more harmful. Like "your gay", but instead of face to face, out loud and in front of peers. The laughs of humility from other students are just as bad as the words and the bully himself. If you think about it, the way   cyber bullying works is by control of the other peer. It's all mental control. For example, if you have a dog who can't behave right you take it back to base 1 and treat it like a puppy. You make sure it pee's in it's area and you make sure it isn't house broken. But you realize YOU are in charge of the dog, not the dog in charge of you. Same with the bully. He is the bad dog. You train him step by step. Now I'm not saying grab your bullies and get them all leashes and take them on walks. That might end quite badly. Try to let them not over take your mind. Remember this is MENTAL attack, in your head. Words are nothing till they are not nothing but something. To victims and bully's these words mean something. But to victims, low self esteem, hurt and pain, helpful words cannot stop them. Some even consider suicide. Let me remind you all, suicide is a form of crime. Why on earth would someone do that? And if your obnoxiously thinking "what a wimp", I ask YOU to wear there shoes and be the victim for a day. 

The internet has become a weapon, not a resources. Well depends  on how you use it. Obviously in this era of the 2000's internet has become the social killer. More statics say that "Bullying is increasingly viewed as an important contributor to youth violence, including homicide and suicide." (NICHD).

Bullying is one of the 4 reasons why teens kill themselves. And if 8% of those kids don't come to school, the bully only gets more power.

So now the question is how do we prevent the bully from harming the students, but for the students to come to school and to face the words and block from unwanted messages. 

Unfortunately phones are the most common medium used in cyber bullying. Frankly, recalling that phones are on of the hardest(in my experience) to block from messages. One your number has been telephoned from ear to ear, the calls and messages and voice mails are periodic. The famous *67 is the link way into not being caught. But modern technology makes the modern criminal obsolete. By a bully dialing *67 you have been the stronger ratio of the fight. He/she needs to hide themselves, but their in fear of you telling! Use the weakness of the bully against them! What can we really do to stop bullies contact with victims? Victims first need to tell an adult. As childish as it sounds, unless you want to be the 8% of the teens that commit suicide each year this could be your way out. This actually might be the last step for most people. But if it gets worse, victims can change settings on facebook, myspace and all of the savvy suicide controls the media has to offer. Know that what you post on the internet stays forever, so be able to take screen shots and print what they write and hold documents. By reporting websites harassing you and imitating to be you, the cyber police and local law enforcement can help take those hurtful sites down. Also, take things like numbers, addresses and things that bullies can use against you down. This may decrease the chance of an in person attack.  What a parent can do is talk  to the child about how they feel. Watch for mood changes and agitation maybe even loneliness. Make sure the computer is within sight of an adult. And manage the account of the cellphone. By tracing data you can open some files of messages students send, which can help not only the parent but the life of the child as well. One last thing like I kept  reenforcing, this is a mental battle. There is more than one field and more than one soldier. Keep your head up, use no weapons and block all violent words. You are the better person for telling and you won't regret asking for help. Help save your life and the life of other. One step at  a time.

Websites for bullying and additional information:

http://www.stopbullying.gov/

http://www.pacerkidsagainstbullying.org/

http://www.StompOutBullying.org/

 

Final: Wrap up the write up ▁▂▃▆▅█▇█▅▂▃▅▂▁ I've got bars!

        Writing. What to make of it. Most consider writing an art, expression of feeling and thoughts.  For me it was a mandatory job for a class; but that changed over time. This year I can see the  differences in my writing. One, my writing has improved by a long shot. Before I would slack and write some rubbish to just get it over with and done. For it was JUST homework right? Yeah, that didn’t turn out so well. Plus another thing was the fact that I wrote about my personal opinions and people just turned the tables on me because of my opinion. Funny thing is when those people spoke there opinion couldn’t be argued against. Weird.  My writing example here written by me, in my own personal view: 


“So this year I've realized a HUGE amount of people calling themselves "scene" or "emo". Well to be honest scene and emo their related. Scene is a form of emo.”


I didn’t think my opinion would stir so much controversy. But my wording  was not well written, and it stirred uprising. I can’t possible imagine what I was thinking when I wrote that. It was in a very informative structure and not very specific. Nevertheless it was a lesson learned and not forgotten. But the writing that I am most proud of is my vignettes. This type of poetical, transitional, intensely illustrative writing is the easiest and most entertaining for me. From childhood I was completed drowned in the fact that poetry was so vast. Clearly my writing about my friends here is here :

    “The warm sun refracts light on our skin as we walk down the street.  Kasia, Meriam, Kathy, & I strolling down the grey pavement under our nimble feet. As we escorted our bodies forward, I thought of the simple fact we were all alike yet so mismatched, like the socks I wore”.


This here about my friends Kasia, Meriam and Kathy is a master piece, just like our friendship. I really wanted to write an ode to these amazing people, but a vignette that was the longest in this project and most descriptive was for them and them only. Cherish ones you love, was my mind set when writing this. Without these three peanuts, I couldn’t of faced ASTI and how rigorous it is. Okay, done with the emotional talk, time to speak about what I improved on!

           Death is quick. Death is slick. Elsewhere, is the story of a young girl who’s taken out of life’s hands. This book I wrote about compared to all the rest was so much better for my book finals. My word choice was broad, my mind was open and plus I had read the book a time before. I wish I could copy and paste everything I wrote to show you, but that would just drive you crazy wouldn’t it? Enough with the chit chat lets see what wrote!:
“I think the  author in the book Elsewhere, the writer  Gabrielle Zevin chose to write about this topic because of the fact she wanted to entertain her readers. Yes that is common for all books, but hers is more of a twist. It is about a 15 year old girl named Liz who gets hit by a car and realizes that she has died. The character, Liz, does NOT seem to care very much after the emotional few minutes of apprehending that she is in fact "alive" in the after life. How can I say this? Because in the back of the book, it explains why the author choose this story, and if she really even cares about the after life, which she sates that she could careless.”Following this further, you can see the better and more clearly I write. I took time and effort to get to this stage of course. I realized writing from the heart really captivates the audience better. Otherwise people would probably be drooling on their desktops because of the sheer boredom I created. On the other hand, there is some really crappy writing I have done, especially during the beginning of the year. Some work I was not able to finish and follow up with. This was because of the fact I was slow and lagging behind. For example:


“What is fasion? Most people say its a career. But to me, it's a way of expressing yourself, with color, design, innovation, self style, and your inner person." 


   Do you see it? It’s a pretty dumb mistake in the writing. I was too dumb to even notice it. My 6 year old cousin could probably make it out. Mmmhmmmm. Thats correct, this fool over here ↵(*hint*me) can’t even spell fashion, geez! Where was my mind! Even more hysterical, I can’t even spell is. These are words kindergartners know and I fail. Look here
“My style ish crazy.”       
Wait for  it......
“ From all of this, All I can say is, what you wear, shows the people around you, in one context who you are.”


   Really? I can’t spell or use correct grammar for almost ever sentence. Sigh this is when I get a slap in the face. Writing takes a vivid imagination, knowing your audience, and determination that writers block won’t stop you. Writers block was a big tradgety for me and I bet for a lot of you. But practice after practice I was able to write so much better and faster than before. Writers block was something that drove me bonkers when it hit. Thankfully, having Mr. Sutherland as a sensational teacher, helped me write so much faster. I would have horrible freeze moments when I would stare open to the world, mind shut. It was if my gears weren’t oiled, and I was immobilized like the tin man in The Wizard Of Oz.  It gets annoying when I can't write very much, and gets me stressed too. Stress for me was the acid on the wound, and kept me from writing. Besides writers block this was just as bad.


   Topics to choose from were insanely fun. The marvelous thing about blogging is that my opinion stays open and that I can. Watching movies, reading books or hearing the radio. Mostly Dr.Oz was the one I think I owe thanks to who helped me realize issues I could blog about. A little puzzle piece which fell in place. Like my blog about drugs, which was originally for Mrs. Corbally’s class. Even though it wasn't read by her I realized I really did like that piece because after an episode of his show realization hit me about drug use in America. Good times, good times.I guess this is the end of my school writing blogging, unless I do more which is what I plan. 

Organization for my blog was horrible and really didn't go so well in the beginning of the year because I didn't take advantage of what I was supposed to do. But later I realized my computer had helpful apps for me to use for writing. So I got me in shape to write so much quicker, better and faster. 

Overall writing for me wasn’t a challenge till I made my mind assume it was. But now I can think free, write free (with shipping and handling), but wait there’s more! I can write with confidence, for it breaks down walls of my own security. Stinky poo poo ♨

Lugging Long Term Effects

Lhadze Bosiljevac

Period 6

Corbally

Writing 1       

4/25/11

                   Lugging Long Term Effects of Legal and Illegal Drugs

                                

                 Modern day society has many issues with drugs for all drugs have  harmful effects, but some are less serious than others. The effects can be classified as causing  minimum, moderate or detrimental effects on the body. Drug abuse & alcoholism are the most dangerous and even more they are now easier to reach and should be avoided at all costs. 

    Minimum effect drugs than the addiction of these drugs.  But the risks extend more than the addiction of these drugs. ADHD drugs have been used for recreational use by younger students. Studies below show that the medication for ADHD is extremely easy to get and usage is not monitored as explained by mental health matters “One recent study found that up to a quarter of undergraduate students are thought to be using stimulants meant for those with ADHD. Another study found that even school pupils in their teenage years are using it to get high or get through exams.” Other side effects include as shown by Help Guide “ Inability to fall or stay asleep, nervousness, headaches, depression and anxiety. In children, loss of appetite, abdominal pain, weight loss during long-term therapy”. Possible dangers like these have gone out of hand. What’s more disturbing is the fact that kids begin to depend on this addicting medicine. And these substances are dangerously leading to intense health effects. Vivarin, like many of the other over the counter drugs and caffeine pills have a limit. But things like over the counter drugs are on the users reliability, not much of the stores. The effects are much more light at first, but the tolerance of the drug causes health problems that are harder and unbreakable than before. This drug does not lead to immediate death and is not fatal, but it still can harm the younger generation. Another factor and misuse of drugs which leads to bad long-term effects is caffeine, as explained “Caffeine mildly stimulates the heart and respiratory system, increases muscular tremor, and produces more stomach acid. Higher doses may cause nervousness, anxiety, irritability, headache, disturbed sleep, and stomach upset or peptic ulcers. (goaskalice.columbia.edu). Caffeine pills are used commonly for people to wake up. But crashing, blood spikes and a numerous amount of issues fall in this place. Risking a long term health effect over a few hours of staying awake does not seem worthy at all, in fact sounds in a way ignorant. On top of that, a controversial topic in America right now is the legalization of marijuana, and even drugabuse.gov states “Scientists have learned a great deal about how THC acts in the brain to produce its many…which carries the chemical to the brain and other organs throughout the body.” To ask and hear over time from the younger generation is that that this drug is not harmful and is easy going, so why should society not legalize it? The government does not legalize this drug for many reasons to agree with in many ways. 

     Weed, as it is commonly called has a very serious impact in which the THC levels effect coordination and thinking. Marijuana as the people who use it call it “safe”, can actually cause schizophrenia, and other physiological disorders. Overall these substances have bad enough long term effects that damage the human body to a staggering extent that most people do not realize. Therefore these drugs have a minimum effect to the human body, and can still do long term damage.

  Another group of drugs known as Hallucinogens are commonly used among peers and the younger generation. Drugs like Ecstasy, PCP, and LSD are common in raves, clubs and even on our streets. “People who use PCP for long periods report memory loss, difficulties with speech and thinking, depression, and weight loss. These symptoms can persist up to a year after cessation of PCP use.”(drugfree.org).  The risks of this drug are not worth the benefits of being high. And others even divert to LSD, which has some gruesome effects such as “Some LSD users experience flashbacks, recurrence of certain aspects of a person’s experience…more than a year after LSD use”(drugfree.org). PCP and LSD are both dangerous drugs. Although LSD users do not show the compulsive drug seeking issues like cocaine and heroin users, both are still lethal. These types seem more and more common in younger generations. I have had close friends who have used these substances and they seem more confused about who they are than anyone I’ve known. And if someone falls in this category, they are not in deep trouble, but enough to hospitalize them.

     Last, but the most detrimental of all drugs are cocaine, heroin, and alcohol. Heroin: also known as Dope or skag is  probably the most lethal and addictive drug I’ve heard, and researched about, “Long-term effects of heroin appear after repeated use for some period of time…do not really dissolve and result in clogging...vital organs.”(drugfree.org). Sadly, one of my close friends has been addicted to heroin and has been in and out of rehab because of its powerful addiction. These drugs are extremely deadly and addictive and seem to trap the user on the inside. To add to the chaos, alcohol is common everywhere. Not a big deal to most people because it’s so easy to get, and has become part of some peoples lives. But it’s long term effects outweigh the effects of another other substance listed here. Even explained here as “Long-term effects of consuming large…abnormalities.” (drugfree.org). Wherever you are, in a super market or corner store, shelves are lined with different varieties of alcohol. And it’s so common you see it in house holds. But as frequent as alcohol might be to some people’s lives, it can be devastating to families, and the user itself. My uncle has been drinking for over so many years, and my mom has tried to help him and talk him in to rehab, which was helpful for the time being, but nothing turned out great. The problem with alcohol is that it is legal and people over 21 can consume it. The issue there is after it has left the safety of the store; this can get in to the hands of the young. Problem with alcohol is since it’s not illegal; and under the table people can get large boxes of it like Miller, Budweiser, Sky Vodka, etc. The heavy consumption of this is that people actually become alcoholics, which believe it or not is a disease.  And people have used alcohol to replace thing in their lives, just as any other drug user has. Heroine, and Alcohol can flip any ones lives upside down. Whether conscious about it or not. They all are proven to be more deadly than any drug listed in this essay. 

    The drugs with the most minimum effects are Weed, Caffeine Pills and ADHD medication. Even though they are addictive, the habit is less intensive to break. Unlike moderately effective drugs like PCP and LSD  which all in a sense are bad and can be just as high risk as the detrimental drugs such as cocaine and heroin. Even alcohol is deadly enough to kill. People should stop the distribution of unneeded medicinal drugs that really don’t need to be prescribed, and teach drug abuse awareness every year starting from the 5^th grade to 10th grade  at school’s because the earlier we teach, the less of an effect the drugs will take on the people. Therefore guiding our health will cut down and save people from the long term side effects of drugs.

Sources:

Pittman, Genevra. "ADHD Drugs Have No Long-term Growth Effects: Study | Reuters." Business & Financial News, Breaking US & International News | Reuters.com. 18 June 2010. Web. 25 Apr. 2011.

"Drugs of Abuse Information Available in Research Report." ARCHIVES - National Institute on Drug Abuse - The Science of Drug Abuse and Addiction. NIDA, May 2001. Web. 25 Apr. 2011.

Strain, Bigelow, Liebson, and Stitzer. "Director's Report 5/99 - Basic Research." ARCHIVES - National Institute on Drug Abuse - The Science of Drug Abuse and Addiction. NIDA, May 1999. Web. 25 Apr. 2011.

NDIA. "NIDA - The Sixth Triennial Report to Congress." ARCHIVES - National Institute on Drug Abuse - The Science of Drug Abuse and Addiction. 2002. Web. 25 Apr. 2011.

NDIA. "NIDA - Research Report Series - Methamphetamine Abuse and Addiction." Research Report Series - Methamphetamine Abuse and Addiction. NDIA. Web. 25 Apr. 2011.

Nora D.Volkow. "Research Report." Drugabuse.org. NIDA, 1998. Web. 2010.

"Cocaine/Crack | The Partnership at Drugfree.org." The Partnership at Drugfree.org | Support and Resources for Parents Dealing with Teen Drug and Alcohol Abuse. 2011. Web. 25

"PCP | The Partnership at Drugfree.org." The Partnership at Drugfree.org | Support and Resources for Parents Dealing with Teen Drug and Alcohol Abuse. 2011. Web. 25 Apr. 2011. 

"Heroin | The Partnership at Drugfree.org." The Partnership at Drugfree.org | Support and Resources for Parents Dealing with Teen Drug and Alcohol Abuse. 2011. Web. 25 Apr. 2011. 

"Heroin | The Partnership at Drugfree.org." The Partnership at Drugfree.org | Support and Resources for Parents Dealing with Teen Drug and Alcohol Abuse. 2011. Web. 25 Apr. 2011. 

Elsewhere: The Final Birth of Death

    Death is always stalking you if you think about it. But what if your only 15? You’ve never been to prom, kissed a boy, experienced. In this book you will see how far a girl your age will travel will wait and struggle to get home. And pick up friends, a lost relative, and a lover. The straight little path back to home is only a river and oceans journey away.

  I think the  author in the book Elsewhere, the writer  Gabrielle Zevin chose to write about this topic because of the fact she wanted to entertain her readers. Yes that is common for all books, but hers is more of a twist. It is about a 15 year old girl named Liz who gets hit by a car and realizes that she has died. The character, Liz, does NOT seem to care very much after the emotional few minutes of apprehending that she is in fact "alive" in the after life. How can I say this? Because in the back of the book, it explains why the author choose this story, and if she really even cares about the after life, which she sates that she could careless.

  As Gabrielle(Gaby for short) explains in her story about Liz. The writer herself seems to show no regard what so ever about being dead or moving on. Unlike the character, who seems to not care at first , then worry, and then have no emotion. It shows that the writer must of tried to see death in a new way, or lets just say experience. In the story at one part Liz explains once she finds out she is dead

" Liz sits down and gasps for air." How can you be so happy when we're....?""(pg39)

At first she has a hysterical scene but then she is calm enough to know in brief that she will NOT at all return to earth. I would suspect a writer to make the task of being dead seem unbearable and hopeless. Not at all in the case she has written the book. The writers laid back feelings show through the pages.

But it seems as if the writer was using creative ideas such as this too hook the reader as to seeing what it feels like to know your 15 and dead. As the story progresses you see a huge change in Liz's emotions and assessment of being deceased.  On top of that, she seems to be upset more about her prom and what her friends are thinking than about what she needs to do.

   Even in the beginning of the book, Liz's pug Lucy seems to just lounge around and be carefree. And in the back of the book. the writer explains in comparison to a character

 " In this book, I'd say Lucy the pug. Like me she does not really care about the afterlife, so long as it has things to eat, nap and the people she loves"(page 284)

She, like the dig does not stress very much. Therefore she has a much easier take on things and does not stress out and over a lot. In the end the book seems more for recreational fun and some fun way of  viewing the after life. Not in  positive or negative way. 

The ending tore  me apart though, even for someone who does NOT care about dying or the afterlife, Gabriella Zevin really gets to the heart.  I cried the first time reading it, and the second time I held tears back. After all it's just  book. But her story really changed my perspective on death. And honestly if it wasn't for this book, I would not be here. I read it for the first time in 8th grade when I was suicidal. To read and hear about life and death, I realized dying at a young age would make me and my family more depressed. Therefore leaving me with more regrets. I don't think this book really is recommended for anyone under the age of 15 because it does involve some sexual content and is a bit descriptive.

Overall I recommend this book to anyone who has the soul to read about heartbreak, death, and loss. Life comes back in many ways, are you lucky enough to make it back?

Elsewhere post:#2

Elsewhere: Mini Blog

  I think the  author in the book Elsewhere, the writer  Gabrielle Zevin chose to write about this book  because of the fact she wanted to entertain her readers. Yes that is common for all books, but hers is more of a twist. It is about a 15 year old girl named Liz who gets hit by a car and realizes that she has died. The character, Liz, does NOT seem to care very much after the emotional few minutes of apprehending that she is in fact "alive" in the after life. How can I say this? Because in the back of the book, it explains why the author choose this story, and if she really even cares about the after life, which she sates that she could careless.

  As Gabrielle( Gaby for short) explains in her story, about Liz. The writer herself seems to show no regard what so ever about being dead or moving on. Unlike the character, who seems to not care at first , then worry, and then have no emotion. It shows that the writer must of tried to see death in a new way, or lets just say experience. In the story at one part Liz explains once she finds out she is dead
" Liz sits down and gasps for air." How can you be so happy when we're....?""(pg39)
At first she has a hysterical scene but then she is calm enough to know in brief that she will NOT at all return to earth. I would suspect a writer to make the task of being dead seem unbearable and hopeless. Not at all in the case she has written the book. The writers laid back feelings show through the pages.

But it seems as if the writer was using creative ideas such as this too hook the reader as to seeing what it feels like to know your 15 and dead. As the story progresses you see a huge change in Liz's emotions and assessment of being deceased.  On top of that, she seems to be upset more about her prom and what her friends are thinking than about what she needs to do.

   Even in the beginning of the book, Liz's pug Lucy seems to just lounge around and be carefree. And in the back of the book. the writer explains in comparison to a character
 " In this book, I'd say Lucy the pug. Like me she does not really care about the afterlife, so long as it has things to eat, nap and the people she loves"(page 284)
She, like the dig does not stress very much. Therefore she has a much easier take on things and does not stress out and over a lot. In the end the book seems more for recreational fun and some fun way of  viewing the after life. Not in  positive or negative way. 

The ending tore  me apart though, even for someone who does NOT care about dying or the afterlife, Gabriella Zevin really gets to the heart.  I cried the first time reading it, and the second time I held tears back. After all it's just  book. But her story really changed my perspective on death. And honestly if it wasn't for this book, I would not be here. I read it for the first time in 8th grade when I was suicidal. To read and hear about life and death, I realized dying at a young age would make me and my family more depressed. Therefore leaving me with more regrets. I don't think this book really is recommended for anyone under the age of 15 because it does involve some sexual content and is a bit descriptive.

Overall I recommend this book to anyone who has the soul to read about heartbreak, death, and loss.

Elsewhere Mini Blog

Elsewhere: Mini Blog

  I think the  author in the book Elsewhere, which her name is Gabrielle Zevin  because of the fact she wanted to entertain her readers. Yes that is common for all books, but hers is more of a twist. It is about a 15 year old girl who gets hit by a car and realizes that she has died. The character, Liz, does NOT seem to care very much after the emotional few minutes of apprehending that she is in fact "alive" in the after life. How can I say this? Because in the back of the book, it explains why the author choose this story, and if she really even cares about the after life, which she sates that she could careless.

  As Gabrielle( Gaby for short) explains in her story, about Liz. The writer herself seems to show no regard what so ever about being dead or moving on. Unlike the character, who seems to not care at first , then worry, and then have no emotion. It shows that the writer must of tried to see death in a new way, or lets just say experience. In the story at one part Liz explains once she finds out she is dead
" Liz sits down and gasps for air." How can you be so happy when we're....?""(pg39)
At first she has a hysterical scene but then she is calm enough to know in brief that she will NOT at all return to earth. I would suspect a writer to make the task of being dead seem unbearable and hopeless. Not at all in the case she has written the book. The writers laid back feelings show through the pages.

But it seems as if the writer was using creative ideas such as this too hook the reader as to seeing what it feels like to know your 15 and dead. As the story progresses you see a huge change in Liz's emotions and assessment of being deceased.  On top of that, she seems to be upset more about her prom and what her friends are thinking than about what she needs to do.

   Even in the beginning of the book, Liz's pug Lucy seems to just lounge around and be carefree. And in the back of the book. the writer explains in comparison to a character
 " In this book, I'd say Lucy the pug. Like me she does not really care about the afterlife, so long as it has things to eat, nap and the people she loves"(page 284)
She, like the dig does not stress very much. Therefore she has a much easier take on things and does not stress out and over a lot. In the end the book seems more for recreational fun and some fun way of  viewing the after life. Not in  positive or negative way.

Girls & Boys

      I  think Cisenero is is trying to show that boys and girls are not treated equally at a young age. They are in fact treated way differently and sexually segregated.  Her brother are never really talked about unless she needs to back up. They never really seems to interfere in her life that much. What  she's trying to imply is that women have to be independent & ready for boys. And all boys really have to do is be "on top", & notice girls so then the females notice them. At that point, it's a fair exchange for both sexes, but the difference is that women should be set aside from men. In order for guys to attract, they must be opposite.

  Shown on page 27 Marin says " What matters Marin says is for the boys to see us, and for us to see them"
That right there shows  how much the girls think about just boys. In that simple statement it says so much. Females have to "be on top"  and they have to keep the ball rolling. Both sexes have to try to attract the opposite gender, but the problem is that the females seem to be under more pressure. Esperanza seems to be more stressed and worried. As if everyones ahead of her and shes trying to catch up.

   Still, women seem to have to be "chasing" the men half the time. As stated on page 88 " Nenny says she won't  wait her whole life for a husband to come & get her...way either", They all want a man, but they all are running for them. The females are under an extreme amount of pressure to  be the best. And the girl with the best relationship or the "man" then they seem more locked. The man seems to just be his best and then take control. To downgrade the female.

And last females have to be seductive. Sexy, sleek. Yes. The S words. The ones men seem to be attracted to. On page 89 "In the movies...there is the one that is beautiful and cruel", Eperanze shows about the trance women put men in. Their also there to drive men insane and keep more coming and going.

Women are like a deadly trap in this book. But their also looked down on. Men seem to play no part except for the sexually aggressive and dominant part.

You Can't Escape the Worst or Choose The Best: Behind Closed Doors

            

Table Of Contents:

1. Wearing Jeans

2. I Don’t Know My Dad Anymore

3. Misty Eye’s Step-Mom

4. Door Closed , Mouths Shut

5. We Are Covered In The Rainbow

6. When life gives you lemons, squirt it in your eyes

7. New Parents

8. Suicide?

9. Ambulance

10. Congratulation, You Survived

                                            Behind Closed Doors

                             

                                              Wearing Jeans

      

      

              I pushed back the tattered brass closet, and opened my windows to see the candy coated clouds as the sun itself honors me.  Putting on the new purple jeans  was a very protracted process.  As I pranced in front of the mirror, the subtle variations of purple gleamed in to the pacific blue sky in the background from the window. School was going to begin, and my mom had to get my jacket for me; the icy air might as well crystalize my lungs.

       I ran into the class with surmise that my friend would notice how staggering  my pants were. And they did. Ooo’s and ahhh’s filled the room. MY pants. Those pants. Purple like a lavender field that had discharged it colors into the open air. Every step I took the colours seemed to evoke the energy and luxury of the material.

      My first and last pair of colored pants. I never wore them again. The pants beauty lead to the jealousy of friends. So I buried it in the avalanche of clothing in my armoire. In fact, the mouth of the drawer swallowed it up, because I never found it’s extravagant self again.

                        

                           I Don’t Know My Dad Anymore

         I knew my dad like I knew the dark scared me. Yet I never knew my dad would become what I was afraid of. Is it the end? Sometime one day, I left something important. As a result, I’d feel the piercing blows and the screams from my throat. Just one kick, but the blacking of the world like ink spilled in my eyes like a broken pen.

     

      I wobbled over crying holding my stomach, tilting my pounding head. Treated like another misery, I’d lost a part of me. Breathless stares shot from my undying eyes.

        Maybe I deserved it. As the door closed my vague sight of the world did as well and began to submerge into a deep deep sleep.

        I didn’t recognize my dad and his ferocious face, red and swelling. What was to come of me? If I had an insignificant desire to live...

                                 Misty Eye’s Step-Mom

 

Misty, my friend had eyes so blue their tranquility seemed so porcelain you’d think she had eyes replaced with marble. Yet suspiciously that warm January morning she didn’t come to school. Dawn echoed from the windows upon the small class. As I sat clutching the copper clipboard I capered  over to the closed door. Jenny positioned her hour glass body precisely on the hallway entrance waiting for me to bring the papers.

       Her face fell blank with no sheen. Commanding her hand she reached and

her solid grip seized my hand. Next her spell bound words came from her mouth.

“ Misty’s step mom is dead.”

  The beautiful blonde individual I had barely even known about had passed away after child birth. After those words, my heart stopped it’s task. My mouth twitched and my eyes flinched. Promptly I dropped the copper clipboard with the papers. Ir was so quiet that i could hear my heartbeat out of my pounding chest.

  The sun still rose, with an emotionally intense vibration of red. Misty’s real mom had died 4 years prior; now fate had taken her step mother as well into it’s hollow labyrinth.

The next day she came to school. Misty’s eyes weren’t so misty anymore.

                             Door Closed , Mouths Shut

         

       STOP!! I screamed with my small voice.

       Please! He stood up and the door closed. I frantically and swiftly felt the warm blood pumping through like dance to move to. But this was no dance, it was a escape from hell. He picked me up and pushed me down. His friend with a  uncomprehending look on his face stood by the bed as I was pinned on the couch breathing through the vents of the cloth. I close my eyes and  hope he'll go away. Yet he picks up his prodigious hand and lays it on my face and says girl your beautiful, I hope you stay  that way.

GET OFF ME YOU FLITHY KID!  PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE. Almost erratically he picks of the soft velvet blanket and throws me on the bed. Takes me down to a corner and lays it over my strangled head. My breathe was reach ing out like arms, fighting for the air. Then at last I  see his friend watching. The clock ticked, the sky darkened far over yonder alone in darkness was the door. Closed shut.  I felt his cold fingers, my friend. What was he doing. Why my body. The struggle to take him down, only made him pull harder on my clothes. Step by step, second by second I began to fade. My last chance to leave I kicked him and fled. Rushing down the stairs, past his mother. Out  so far that the doors shut and he was gone away, but not from my mind.

    

  Lhadze Bosilejevac           

  Periodn1

Sutherland

3/2/11                  

                             

                                        We Are Covered In The Rainbow 

    

    The warm sun refracts light on our skin as we walk down the street.  Kasia, Meriam, Kathy, & I strolling down the grey pavement under our nimble feet. As we escorted our bodies forward, I thought of the simple fact we were all alike yet so mismatched, like the socks I wore.

 Kathy walks ahead and twirls though with angelic grace, as Kasia tousles her hair. Slowly I pulled out my mirror from my heap of papers in my bag. It’s oval black top opens up and the silvery shine reflects on my face.

 Walking and looking in my mirror, I realized our little group of girls who were dreamy & full of passion. The glamour on us seemed deeper than our dermis. But it wasn’t even that.  Our skins shone in the shades of spring, though the sweltering heat submerged under my sweatshirt. In that distinct moment, I noticed our pastel skin tones.

Kasia wasn’t white, but she wasn’t tan like leather. Definitely polaca. As I refocused my eyes, I looked at the little details in her skin; her cheeks were a peachy pink highlighting her lip, which were a rosy red. The small russet dots on her face, possibly from sun exposure. Nonetheless, it was as if a determined artist sedulously painted her skin colour. Every intricate design painted and airbrushed yellow undertone to bring out the best.

 Meriam. Her skin so soft. Almost limpid like pretinha, the natural marupa wood. Tan as the pigment of a silky pecan. Blending perfectly with her cinnamon body, a perfect silhouette.  Swarthy colors sprung from her surface, as she submerged her smile. In addition, her ruddy cheeks were healthy and big. Meriam’s arms matched the same tone as her bronze visage, so unparalled to anyone’s deep brown skin tone I’d ever seen before.

Kathy was the mix of yellow, white and a deep black. She was a luz tosta. Her unmarked face was absolutely breathless. Her skin reminded me of a mesa, packed flat and flawless. Immediately as she breathed in, her dermis spread flat like pão plano. The deep chestnut color was breath taking.

I was still holding the mirror. At that point I wanted to look away from my skin, or should I say my mask. Tediously I glanced back into the mirror, my face was palida, no tone, no rosy cheeks. Not even the hint of bronze. Just a bunch of white with buttercup highlights. My face didn’t shine, infact it looked blown back. No botox, just plain & “whellow” as I called myself. Possibly the colour of sour dough. I look like bread, I thought to myself. But as I looked deeper I saw the faintest little blemish, very small, but there it was. My trademark. I may not have had any other feature, but I had the little red mark along with a few others. They whispered there little words and I smiled. We’re all different. It just so happens to be that we fell in a rainbow, and the colours we collected made us who we are.

        

                      

                          When life gives you lemons, squirt it in your eyes

 

    

   She stood in the mirror I faced her. Her face was ugly and blank. No tone. Hair so long it could wrap around as a shawl and make her look like big foots wife. Eyes of dirt, lips of juice stains. That girl was me.

  That mirror reflected the outer shell of me. Or the skin, the zest. Yellow, porous, round and sour on the inside. Something to squeeze the joy out of.

 I shouldn’t be a yellow lemon because I could infact be a black lemon. Because what I was trying to be was a lemon that was not a lemon, but a different standard of fruit. To break the boundaries. To look past my skin. But how? I could see. Life had lemons. It wasn’t hot enough to make lemonade. I decided to squirt lemon juice in my eyes. It stung with an intense jolt. As I reopened my eyes the world was blurry and had a black shadow behind it. I couldn't;t see my gross face. I liked it.

                                    New Parents

  I called for 3 days. I sat impatiently in the foster assessment home. I wish they’d take me in. I was alone. For 3 days in that cluttered long room full of books and computers and couches. I slept more than I watched movies. I began to dream of a family that I used to have but was lost.

My mind began to tell me I was worth less. My fluttering heart began to break down, and so did I. Everyday I seemed to loose more & more hope. Until I was pulled in saying my friends parents were going to foster me. Finally a home. Aspiring to see my new parents I collected my huge backpack and my bag of clothes.  To be free finally from the hell hole of a physco hospital, to a foster assessment now to a home was scary and tiring. Yet I was so relieved.

  Thank god she and her family took me  in. I was scared to see everyone else's shocking reactions grabbing at my face. Tearing down my walls. Her mom closed the door and began to show me around. Something was missing in the house. I don’t remember fully but somethings weren’t quite right.

I met my new foster dad. He was tall, pale and a cheery fellow. The dogs surrounded my legs nibbling at what remained of my worn shoes. My “mom” looked at me and gave a frown.

  You need new shoes, she said

I don’t I replied. No way. I hated shopping with all my life.

Your shoes have holes like swiss cheese dear, we need to shop. Come on. What ever you want to get. It’s all up to you she exclaimed smiling.

 How did she enjoy shopping? After 45 minutes I finally gave in. Black shoes they would have to be. Because in both ways I didn’t have a “soul”, for my feet or body.

                                 Suicide?

Suicide. Blood stained my rusty skin as it flowed down my arms. Intricately designs my wrists with lines and words.

Suicide. I couldn’t feel the pain of the razor cutting up my arms bleeding out the unwanted in myself.

Suicide. It was a beautiful thing.

Suicide. Something successful in a setting of strife. I hope death would take me away.

Suicide. Enteric thuds of my heart beat, full sweep. Untreated left to infect just like my arms and mind.

Suicide. Who can help my body and my mind. The razor cuts deeper and deeper. Maybe when I’m born again I’ll be better off than here in this world.

Suicide. An open door to my world, and leaving a black drape over my past.

Suicide. It’s a synthetic death that lasts.

                                  Ambulance

   Heart beat stable. Conceiounes: alert. And on and on he went. I lay back in the corner on a stretcher in the cold ambulance. Strapped down, a potential threat to others. 5150, a dumb number to represent myself. I say still in the white sheets over laying my stiff, inhospitable body. Voices reached my head, oh how the sounds whispered sweet words. My minds games caressed me to a trance. I’ll hold on my false apology to myself. Bitter illusions open my eyes larger and I began to taste this bland world.

 The men stare holding me for the next 40 minutes. I woke looking out the window, strangely calm as the sight of guard towers and barbwires filled my eyes. Opening the back door of the car, I lay flat. Welcome said a women. You’ll be under suicide watch. Please enter inside and take off your outer clothing. I glanced one  time out the doors before they were bolted. Closed.

                                              

                                       Congratulation, You Survived

        

        I walked off the steps of the graduation podium for my 8th grade release. My black corset strangled my every move as the puff of the short dress made me walk like a ballerina, only with her legs close to together. Carefully after the repetitive hugs and kisses, the good byes and I'll miss yours, I stepped out into the sun light to join the sea of others as the swam towards their parents. I could see my dad. mother and sister huddled up. My mom gave me a smile and said YOUR OUT! Yes. I was indeed out for I need it more than the sky needed the citrus constellations in the galaxy. My father gave me a hug, which was hard to accept. And my sister gave me a dirty glance as always, and said where's the candy. Candy? What it wasn't as we were throwing a party in huge theatre and some how there was CANDY? No I said with a smirk. 

     Hovering over I saw my "peanut gallery" of friends who seemed to be enjoying the pictures taken by family and friends. I wanted to escape my family. They didn't accept me for who I was. Because I was the only girl in a full body black corset dress, hand made and designed. Promptly I ran off with the crowd, loosing my family back at the front shore. But before I left my friends mom had invited me to lunch and with booming smile I screamed yes. So as my parents left my friend & I skipped in our 5 inch heels down to the restaurant. I knew I couldn't eat the food there, but it was a sweet escape. Just then my friend stops and looks back at me and says Lhadze, you survived middle school and your parents. Embarrassed, I looked at my hands and at my nails, then I murmured I did, but I congratulate myself because nobody has.