New Plans, YAY or nay?

Hi there.

  Could you just, like, ignore every previous blog post that I've written? I won't disclose why but here's a hint: COMPLAININGCAITLINCOMPLAININGCAITLINCOM-

Yeah so um, that should do it.

   So here's the deal. Obviously I've not been completely faithful to this blog seeing as how on random days I'll decide to post how horrid I think my life is (when it's not). SO I've decided that whenever I get the random feeling to blog my secrets out on the web in little fits of rant rage, I'll do just that. Between those times I'll be posting short comics, cartoons, drawings or whatever on this site.  To be honest, I'm not that good of a writer and whenever I get a really good idea it takes me way too long to write it down before I run out of steam. Drawing is my solution. I love, loved, will love to draw until the day that I die.

Seriously.

I'll probably only do this for  a short while until I give up and open a Tumblr account and upload my drawings there just to humor myself.

Well then now that I'm done awkwardly and insufficiently explaining my new blog plan I think I'm going to watch Narnia with my brother.

K' Bye.

Heya....

.....Hi. Okay, yeah it's been a long time, around a couple weeks or so since I've posted and I know I just wrote whole blog post of things I need to stay committed to or whatever (I can assure you that I have not been committed whatsoever) and I swore I would stay faithful to this blog but..

..it's hard.  Especially when there's so much to do. Like getting ready for the impending high school year, trying to prepare yourself for a year alone with you energetic little bother of a brother, whiny, annoying, impossible to deal with monster sister, and mom. Plus the fact you've got fat cat who doesn't like you, a guinea pig you didn't even want and who your sister won't feed even though he belongs to her, you realize you complain a LOT, you constantly have to make sure your big nose isn't sporting new pimples, and your insanely self conscious about EVERYTHING. And the biggie: moving during the supposed "best four years of your life!" Yeah, I'm sure that's what all the teen moms and high school dropouts think. Not that I'm criticizing, I'm just saying that the quote doesn't really fit the picture (I wouldn't know anything, seeing as I'm only a lowly eighth grader)

You see? And it's also hard to have inspiration for blog posts that don't involve long lists and paragraph beyond paragraph of complaint. I've seen other blogs and they seem so sensible, and they can talk how their day was and post pictures. I'm not saying I can't but it's just hard for me to write stuff like that. And when you lose focus a lot like me it's especially hard,

For example, even now as I'm typing at megaspeed, I'm supposedly in the midst of making yummy cinnamon scones and watching The Help ( really good movie!) and getting my homework done for school tomorrow and hoping it will snows so I don't have to go to school tomorrow. 

I have to take a quick break to get started on the scones so my mom can quit asking me too. (Yes, mom I'm doing it just let me finishthisparagraph!!!). 

And I'm back! Hopefully they'll turn out okay this time. The scones I mean, a couple months ago I was making them and the directions say to use baking powder and not baking soda which I kinda mixed up and ended up with funky-smelling scones with a purplish inside and an aftertaste of baking soda. I was convinced, for several weeks after, that I was going to die of too much baking soda or something. 

Well now that I'm done with the usual rant about my life and baking soda/powder dysfunction I've really run out of ideas to continue upon.......

.... I'm thinking........I'm thinking.......

Nope, can't come up with anything. I'll have to wait until later.

Bye.

My Temporary Return to the Archipelago of the Internet, and So Much More! Provided by Yours Truly.

I'm back! From the depths of the torturous waters  that I have so desperately tried to fight against and sail through smoothly-but to no avail, the red clouds still remain.
Yeah, I'm talking about school- how'd you guess?
Well enough celebrating-there's more to life then gallons of rum, mate.
Okay, enough pirate talk, from now on I will make a goal to stay on track and focused during any source of writing that I write.
I wonder if there's any Halloween candy left at Target- or did they already get started on Christmas (since, you know, obviously, it's almost here- at least judging by all the new decorations and everything I see).
Sigh, so much for staying focused ( and no I didn't do that on purpose-I honestly and seriously am most curious as to whether  they still sell Halloween candy-I'm serious as Davy Jone's Locker).
See? I just can't commit to anything. I'll show you a list.

1. Homework.
2. College choices.
3. College applications.
4. Searching for colleges with archeological/paleontological/paleobotanical departments.
5. My blog.
6. Homework.
7. Studying.
8. Getting an English-Spanish dictionary- shoot! I should hurry and see if the store's are still open!
9. Homework.
10. Studying.
11. Bringing my grade up.
12. Looking up other careers.
13. Trying to make a list of other careers I want.
14. Making a list of careers I don't want.
15. Trying to draw the Mona Lisa.
16. Convincing my parents that we "Don't have to go back to California. We need to."
17. Saving my Halloween candy for later.
18. Homework.
19. That darned English-Spanish dictionary!
20. Making an M&M rainbow.
21. Being useful.
22. Doing homework.
23. Watching Ben 10- wait I take that back, I'm already using this as an excuse for why I'm failing to complete the above.
24. Not refraining from using pirate-speak.
25. Being productive and mentally sound.
26. Exercising- see those arm muscles? See 'em? Of course you don't. I don't have any.  Duh :(  .
27. Artistic skills!!!

It's a long, long, long, long, long list.

Like, really long.

Longer than my too-long legs.

That's how long it goes.

So...

Um..yeah....

Bye. 

See the title? You know the big headline thingy up there? Well, my friend saw this post in editing (grr) and  she asked why I called the internet an archipelago. Well, to tell the truth I thought it was cool and if we're speaking on very loose technical terms the internet is kind of like a chain of islands (a.k.a archipelago) since an archipelago is made up of islands and the internet is made up of websites.

See?

No?

She didn't get it either..

Bye.

Sadness, complaints, and so much more junk....from yours truly

Lately I've been feeling sad. Not depressed. Not melancholy. Not upset. Just sad.
Just plain, old sad.
And why am I feeling so sad, you may ask?
I don't know.  I mean I shouldn't feel sad. I shouldn't miss those places so much. I shouldn't. But I do.
Very much.
Oh yes, this is a very belated blog post. Probably one of the whole reasons I started this blog. If you don't want to read this; I get it. Usually when I read other blog posts like this I skim through them and stop halfway through. But not this one.
I've read books and stories (non-fiction, mind you) and the character's always saying how they've lived somewhere and moved away and they miss it but they'll be fine, or how one of their best friends moved away but they can still visit and move back there.
They never seem to feel (or mention) how their heart get's heavy when they think of those places. They never say anything about how they would go back there in a heartbeat if they could. Never mind that they're barely fluent in the language. Never mind that their old house is now someone elses. Never mind that their old friends probably barely remember them. At least they're there.
And I'm sorry to those of you who know me well, I talk about places I've lived in a lot and your probably going, "Wow, she'll never stop talking about this will she?" But I've never actually truly admitted what it feels like. The heart wrenching feeling. The wondering if any of your old friends remember you. If you'll ever see them again. And if they miss you. I'm not over-exaggerating or being overly melodramatic. This is how I really feel. This is how I feel when ever I open my old yearbook from my middle school in California. This is what I feel like when I see packages of Icelandic Kleinurs sitting in their bags looking mouthwatering.
I know I'm no the only one to feel this, there are probably generations of kids before me who've felt even more sad than I do. I'm not trying to make *anyone feel guilty or anything, I'm just sad is all.
Poor, sad, little me.
When I found out my dad was going overseas in seventh grade (I was in sixth grade and still in California) my mom told us the choices:
A. We move to Virginia so visiting will be easier for him and we'll be close.
B. We stay in California, which means less visits.
And I remember as  we were driving through the little town that we had known for two (very short) years and I didn't really feel anything. It didn't really hit me. Until now. Back then I immediately told my mom I wanted to go to Virginia. We picked out a house, signed up for our schools and got ready to pack up (no, it was not as orderly and quick as it sounds). I was happy and hugged my friends goodbye. But unfortunately I got my yearbook the day I was supposed to leave but I was almost last in line which meant that I got only three signatures.  One threatened me to visit or else........ (don't worry Chris, I'll annoy my parents into it somehow).  Back to the point; now that we're living in Virginia I'm feeling conflicted. On one hand I like Virginia, had we not moved here  I would not have made many amazing friends. On the other hand..... it would have been easier. No just "it", everything would've been easier. The making friends, the algebra, everything!
But I'm here now. And I'll stay here until the summer of sophomore year. I'll make new friends at my high school, I'll get used to maneuvering through the halls and finding short cuts to classes, I'll get to know and have my favorite teachers.
But then I'm gone.
Like so many other kids, for so many other reasons; just like that, gone.
There are people who have had loved ones die, and I'm complaining about moving everywhere?
As I said, right now is a very conflicting time for me.
Blasted eighth grade. It's made me very sentimental.
And emotional.

Bye.

Long Time, No See

                      Yes indeed, it has been a long time (two weeks- how terrible!). God I sound like a grownup or something like when they discover twitter or Myspace (what's that?). Anyway yeah I know I haven't been blogging in, like, forever but when you get to eighth grade I'd like you to tell me how you manage to juggle stupid after-school chorus rehearsals, service hours and infuriatingly long lists of homework.  
         The worst part is I know that this year in Algebra 1 won't be a good year- I'm already failing! Well not failing so much as getting a really bad grade on a test, but it's like a sign or something. This year the Algebra gods will not take pity on me; like last year. And the worst part of the worst part is that when I asked for help with my Algebra homework my dad was all,"Wow.....I haven't done this in a long time- sophomore year of high school."
Wait a second.
         Sophomore year of high school?  So apparently in the eighties, middle school was a blissful experience because they didn't have to do Algebra (that's my idea of a happy year, anyway). But c'mon it's like they think that this generation's gonna turn out a bunch of smart people. I'm only talking about myself by the way, everyone else knows a hecka lot more about math than I do, including the Math 8 kids! Why couldn't they wait to torture us with the Pythagorean theorem and translating expressions until ( at least) freshman year? Is that really so bad? *They didn't have to take Algebra in eighth grade, they didn't have to learn about until high school!
         There's plenty more to be stressed about (other than the atrocity of algebra) like that I have another after  school chorus rehearsal on Monday, along with picture day and on Tuesday the Son of Neptune (second book in series that I'm salivating over) comes out along with the interim reports being passed out.
And tomorrow, to knock off a few hours on our service hours I'm doing this Fall Cleanup thing for my school, starting at 9-12. I think I'm a lunatic, what person would voluntarily spend a part of their days away from school at school? Me, I guess. Oh, and did I tell you that these service hours are freakin' mandatory? That means that we have to complete fifteen hours of service throughout the whole school year or else we won't pass eighth grade.
         A little extreme don't ya think?

I know I'm complaining about stuff that isn't worth complaining about and I'm taking melodramacity to a whole new level but as they say in the First Amendment,
Free right to speech. Which means two thing:
1. I can whine all I want and I have a right too (do I sound rude or what?).
2. I've been paying attention in Civics.


* I realize that different schools/countries may have taught Algebra or whatever in high school but I'm talking about my parent's schools, not all of them in general.


Bye.

An Ode To School By Caitlin H.

Oh School,
How you always bore me.
And though you are so orderly
you are still a colossal epic FAIL.
Which has caused my life to derail.
No longer can I laze about reading 
and drawing and other things.
Instead my life is run by the annoying bell ring(s).
And I know I'm no poet
(don't we all know it).
And that I cannot rhyme very well.
But my point is school is like a curse, 
upon me it has fell. 
School is not the worst.
But I still don't like it.
And that's all I have to tell.
****


Well since now that you have witnessed one of my poems you should know that many, many, many stories or cartoons that I write/do are based on my absolute dedication to school (not). I mean it's not like I'm against school or anything (I don't want to offend anyone by the way) I'm just a little upset that freedom has slipped from my fingers once again. 


Only five more years,
 only five.


Ugh.


Bye.


P.S. I'm, like, sooo,like, getting an, like, A in poetry this year.

Monsoons, No School and Hallucinogenic Pesto sauce?!

I've got three things to say:

      One, the weather is extremely insane again. Luckily this time it's just rain- wait, actually it's a monsoon. I'm not kidding; it's been raining heavily for the past three hours. And when I say heavily I mean that it sounds as if a waterfall is running down the house, or  that an Irish step-dancing troupe is practicing on our roof.
      Two, there was so much rain from these past three days there is flooding in some places which means: NO SCHOOL TOMORROW!
Now you'd think that I wouldn't be this excited since school just started but since summer's over I'll take any extra day of lazing around my house anytime.
     And three, I haven't been eating the school lunches like I did last year so I'm pretty sure that I didn't eat hallucinogenic food from the school. But Whole Foods may want to recheck their jars of pesto sauce (it's what I eat with pasta for lunch) because today I just saw someone from ISI, my old school in Iceland, in my gym period. I'm pretty sure I'm either:

A. Hallucinating.
B. Going Crazy.
C. Totally obsessing over it even though I don't need to be.

      I'll go with the latter, because it's probably the only true possibility. You see last year (when my dad was away) my mom, sister, brother and myself went to a picnic for Foreign Service families. Well I had a reason to be shocked then, because I saw the same exact person I saw today and her sister. We were close friends in Iceland; I think we met when I was in fourth grade and they were in third or fourth grade. We had play dates and played crazy games at school, that kind of stuff. And then when my family and I moved to California and I was firmly convinced I would never see anybody I knew from Iceland again.
Eh!* Wrong.
      It happened in my third period (gym) and I was going upstairs from the girls locker room when I heard,"Caitlin? Is that you?." I looked up and involuntarily shrieked, "What are you doing here?!". We stood there for a minute while I was trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. My friend then opened the door and I caught it about to walk out when I head her friend say,"Well, that was rude.". I quickly ducked back in and again involuntarily asked, "I'm sorry but who are you?". Don't ask why I said that. All I know is that I'm still pretty mortified; even though I'm in the safety of my room now.
         She looked at me and went, "Caitlin? Iceland?". It was then that I exhaled a big OH, while my friend watched this strange conversation and went, "Um do you guys know each other or something?". I can't remember what happened after that as my brain does me the kindness of blocking embarrassing moments from resurfacing, but all I know is the second I closed the door I remembered the girl's name. I quickly shouted it out and then excitedly explained to my friend that I knew that girl and that she was one of my friends who went with me to school in Iceland. And after that I was all jumpy and excited because I had seen her. I made sure I told all my friends who knew that I had lived in Iceland about seeing her in my gym period.
       And I reminded myself to tell my parents about it as soon as I got home. But funnily enough I forgot to tell them until about a half hour ago. In all the excitement of doing my Algebra 1 homework I didn't remember to tell them! (I'm kidding about the excitement of algebra homework part but it did make me forget.)
     And then when I did tell my dad; his expression said that he thought I was crazy. Probably because I was jumping up and down and rambling about how I wasn't crazy. My mom had a lesser reaction and was like, "Well we'll probably see them at the FS picnic again next week."
I went all, NEXT WEEK?!

Okay I should probably get some sleep just in case the school decides to open again.
Or maybe I'm just being paranoid.


Bye.

 P.S. I'm like on a sugar high or something, I can't stop bouncing!

* That was supposed to be that sound a buzzer makes when you get a question wrong or something, blah.