A Great Injustice to a Great Thing

So, I'm going to assume that you all know about the battle between sports and the arts, right? If you don't I'm going to sum it up for you quickly; all the dummkopfs who play only jock-ey sports don't appreciate us band kids who put in about twice as much time and effort and DON'T do stupid stuff just because we can get away with it. Frankly, we can't, because all the jocks are put on a pedestal and can do no wrong, even if they break into cars in the student parking lot and steal stuff, or go around town and squirt ketchup, mustard, and syrup all over the houses, or vandalize other schools.
Not that I'm biased or anything, though.
They're super stuck-up, too. We come in to practice before school starts for the year and an hour before school every day once it does in marching band season so we can have our drills down by the time our mighty football team even plays their first game. Everything our band seems to do revolves around stupid football or basketball,  and we don't even get a heartfelt thank you. I still hear stuff from kids at school about how our marching band did the same thing at half time every game, but I really want to tell them to get the barking heck onto the field and march yourselves, and then criticize us for not having something new every. single. time. Of course, they didn't complain when the K-Line dance team did the same slutty dance several times, or the cheerleaders who couldn't hike their skirts up any higher, because they're better than us. Excuse me, bum rag? I don't see every single one of them stepping in time, playing memorized music as one whole unit instead of a group of teenagers who are only concerned with looking sexy. Please, tell me how that makes them better than us. I dare you to try.
Now, in basketball season, we've played at three of their games, boys and girls in one night, and god forbid we leave after half time, when we've been there for three barking hours already, because that makes it look like we don't support our basketball team, and it's very disrespectful.
Oh, h*** no! I'll stay for another hour when I see the basket ball team at one of our barking concerts, bum rags! I just don't understand what goes through their heads some times! The board gives our football team expensive new clart while our sousaphone players have to use duct tape to keep their mouthpieces on! Our band directors have paid for new instruments that we desperately need out of their own pockets, and they aren't cheap, either! And our football team hasn't won a game in YEARS!!! I look at my teacher's bulletin board with all the sports newspaper clippings, and not a single one of them is an article about how the Panthers beat the other team in their game last night. Not one. And we've had a district I rating at state marching band and jazz band competition for longer than that, and we're still not good enough!
I know that to all of you elsewhere in the country, it may sound like I'm exaggerating, but here in small-town U.S.A., this kind of thing is an all too common occurrence. Sports and last names are everything around here, and I couldn't despise the hierarchy more.
I don't know what else to say. It isn't fair. We deserve so much more than they do, but when it comes down to it, that never seems to matter to anyone but us. We're like our own family, or a cult as we've been called, and we've always got each other's backs, no matter what.
I care, but do you?

Whoa! 2 posts in 10 days... aren't you proud?

Yes, I realize that when I first made this blog I posted about three or four times in the space of ten days, but THAT IS NOT THE POINT! Be proud of me, dang it!
Oops. Control your anger, Miles. (Oh, are you confused as to why I just called myself Miles? It's my crossdresser name, like Deryn is Dylan in LBG.)
Speaking of being proud of me, I went for a run today. Granted, it was a rather pathetic, raise-your-eyebrows-and-sigh-at-me kind of run, but it's a start. Living in the country and on a hill as I do, the gravel road up the driveway is an ideal place to run hills. I figure it was about 175 meters, and I ran up it four times with an average time of about *cringe* 43 seconds. Look down upon me in shame. During track season last year, I could run a 200 in 40. Granted, it was on a flat surface, but it was also 25 more meters. The worst part is that I felt sick afterward. Blech.
Oh, well. If I keep this up, I won't disgrace myself at practice too badly. Remind me to do this every day until the thirteenth, okay? Thanks.
Um... what else is there to talk about? I could talk about my new resolution to make myself look nice when I go to school every Friday, since it really bugged me when I wore sweatshirts or sweatpants every other day of the week. But, I just basically explained it all.
Or, of course, I could give you an update on my grandpa. Ugh, I feel so... dehumanizing when I say "update" you on him. Like he's a machine sputtering along, and that is definitely not the feeling I want to give off. Well, how about I just give you the basic info on the situation. He has small cell lung cancer that has metastasized basically everywhere. He's going through Kemo right now to give him a few more months, and to make him feel a little better in that time. That's as much detail as I'm going to get into.
Since I have homework to do, I'm going to end on that note, and not even be sarcastic. Sorry. (Oh, wait. I guess I just was. You're welcome.)
Bye!

I'm still out here!

    Um... er... *looks away guiltily* Long time no see?
    It's been about 20 days since my last post, and I can't really say a large amount of super exciting stuff has happened to me.
    Second semester started a few weeks ago, and while my schedule is very different from before, its fine with me. For all of you in school, how is your second semester? I think I heard that today is our 100th day of school somewhere, but you can't trust high school students. :) Not like I am one or anything... psch!
    I'm kind of scared for Track to start in February. I have a horrible amount of willpower when it comes to actually getting started. When I get going I'm fine, really, but no matter how much I tell myself I should just go for a run, it'll be over before I know it, it doesn't make a difference. It just *DOESN'T HAPPEN*.
    You may be asking, "But, Melissa, when you're in track, other people are the ones telling you to run and such, so why is it a problem?". Well, dear reader, please notice that I said it starts in February. February. It's still January at the moment. I have over two weeks until practices begin, and I know how brutal the first few days are, so I want to maybe do a little running to lessen the brutality. Bingo! That's why it's a problem, my reader.
    Sorry for the random rambling. I'm aware of how pathetic I sound. Sorry again.
    Phooh. I don't think there's anything else.
BYE!!!

Days at home...

Hello, again, everyone.
I feel like a chipmunk. A chipmunk smuggling large acorns in my cheeks. Painful, scratchy ones.
Yes, oh faithful readers, I just said that. What does it mean, though? Well, if you were as faithful as you said, you'd know that I no longer have my wisdom teeth. Okay, but I still don't get how chipmunks and wisdom teeth are related, you say. The answer is simple; my face is so swollen that at this point I look like a chipmunk. Tada!
Argh. Yes, it has been two, almost three, days since I got them out Tuesday morning, but somehow I still couldn't make it through a full day of school. I left school after lunch and was at my grandma's for about an hour before actually making it home. I've been vegetable-izing for the last two days, feeling generally like clart. I had marathons of both Psych and Castle in that time. And I unloaded the dishwasher both days. You're welcome, Dad.
The reactions from the kids at school was quite varied. Well, not just kids, but teachers, too. You have people like a certain friend who shall not be named--cough--Evy--cough that tell me how sorry they are for me, and then proceed to give me the name "Chippy", others who are very polite about it, and then people like Anthony. Oh, yes. (I swear to you that he was totally joking, and making me laugh at this time) He said that I just gained weight over break, and loudly proclaimed it in his Anthony way to everyone who walked in. I, of course, couldn't stop laughing. It was painful. As for teachers, you get some that are like "Oh, poor hon. Feel better!", and then the band director who pokes my cheeks and makes a funny face at me. Gee, thanks, Leaper. :)
Well, that's about it, I guess. I'm going to school for the second half tomorrow, the classes after lunch that I missed today. That means I get to sleep in! Heh, we'll see how well that works. *sigh*
Goodnight!

Happy New Year!!!

Yes, I realize it's actually January 2nd right now, but HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Sorry for the distinct lack of frequent posts.
So... hmm... what to post??? Oh, yes. What exactly I was doing the moment 2012 began in the Midwestern time zone. Reading Goliath by Scott Westerfeld, of course! I don't know about you, but I think it was a great way to start the year. I hope the trend continues...
Aren't you proud of me? I cleaned the basement today, completely of my own accord. Neither one of the parents or siblings told me to. I just did. And it took about two hours... I felt good about it afterwards because I'd done something productive (You'll notice that pattern in me. I do something productive, and I feel good. I do nothing, I feel like a bum-rag covered in clart.) I did it mostly because I ordered Just Dance 3 for the Wii, which is downstairs, and I want my whole family to be able to play it, including my mom, who's a neat freak. Love you, Mommy!
Then I got all creative and decked out my new notebook, steampunk style. Don't know what steampunk is? Think early 1900s with very elaborate, showy contraptions. It involves lots of gears and spinning things. Google it. Anyway, the way I decorated my notebook was by drawing lots of gears and taping them on the front *hums "Just glue some gears on it (And call it steampunk)" [Good video by the way. Youtube it]* Then I wrote "Steampunk" in really fancy, steampunk-ey letters. You can check it out on my other blog, whose URL is http://wriblogster.blogspot.com/ Also, if you have read the Leviathan Trilogy, feel free to read the 6 chapters of my FanFic I have posted. If not, SPOILER ALERT!!!
Ugh. I get my wisdom teeth taken out tomorrow morning. And tomorrow also happens to be the day school starts again. Usually I would say "Cool! I don't have to go to school!" but now that I'm in High School, I have semester tests, which you have a chance to opt out of a few of if you miss less than 3 days. So you can see how I would be compelled to go to school... Barking Spiders! I'm definitely not going tomorrow, and probably not Wednesday, so I basically need a perfect attendance 2nd semester or I'm SOL. Grrr...
So, without further rambling: Goodnight! I may or may not write again tomorrow!

To Grandpa

So, I'm sorry I didn't post anything last night. I was distracted.
There's been...stuff...going on in my family. My grandpa had been feeling sick for a long time, and we finally got him to go see a doctor yesterday.
He has lung cancer. It's a big tumor and inoperable where it's placed, but we're not yet sure if it's malignant or benign. Please, make it benign.
I'm not good at this mushy emotional stuff, I'll tell you outright. For me, the less drama in my life, the better. So right now, I'm kind of in a quiet state of shock or whatever. What can I say, I'm a bottle-it-up type of girl. And something inside me is thinking that if I ignore the bad possibilities, they won't happen. And they won't, right?
My mom, sister, and I went to visit him today. There was lots of family there when he got back from tests, so we went to Barnes & Noble for a few hours and came back when it wasn't so crowded. We don't know anything more yet.
It's strange, seeing my mom cry. She didn't really cry, but her and everyone else's eyes were rimmed red all day. And everyone was sad, too. Sure, they tried to be lighthearted and keep a strong face, but there's this weight that pushed all their attempts down. I can feel it, too, like something is digging a hollow in my chest. It sounds like one of those crappy metaphors in a romance novel, but it's true. It really is.
But I won't bother you any more with my sadness. It's mine, after all, and not yours. So, goodnight.

Ev'ry Day I'm Shufflin'

Okay, if you don't know what story shuffles are, here's a quick 'splanation for you: You set your iPod on shuffle and write a really short story that's related to the title or lyrics of the song. Or, in my case most of the time, you just find a song you like and decide it would fit the Leviathan characters, so you write it.
The song "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift,  which is ironically for The Hunger Games soundtrack, just happens to be one of those songs. I like it so much, in fact, that I wrote TWO story shuffles about it. Feel free to weigh in on which one you like better.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Leviathan characters, Scott Westerfeld does.
Safe &Sound- Taylor Swift, attempt 1
         The fire was everywhere. It crawled up her arms, leaping to everything around her.

“No! No, please! Not again...” she pleaded with it, but it didn’t listen to her, just continued to eat away at all that she had left. “I thought I’d escaped you!” she cried, wishing the fires would just go away. They followed her everywhere, even here into her new life with Alek.

Oh no. “Alek!” she screamed, but he was already gone, the flames had taken him away, leaving her alone like they always did.

“Deryn? Deryn, wake up!”

There were tears streaming down her face, and she reached for him blindly, craving his solidness, the reality that he was still there, still alive. “Don’t leave me alone, don’t ever leave me, please.”

“It’s alright, Deryn. I’m here. It was just a nightmare. You’ll be okay. Just close your eyes, Deryn. I won’t let you go.”

“Don’t ever leave me alone.”

“I won’t. We’ll be together, safe and sound.”

So that's that one, now here's the other:

Safe and Sound- Taylor Swift, attempt2

The ground was shaking. At first they had been small tremors, but they had grown larger steadily. Alek could feel it on his bare feet as he rushed to Deryn’s room. Another blast came, and the chandelier in the dining room clanged against itself. He pushed her door open and rushed to the bed, finding her shaking worse than the floor. She looked at him, face pale and tears gleaming on her cheeks, and he gathered her into his arms. “Come with me, Deryn, we’ve got to get to the basement.”

This wasn’t the first they’d heard of the bombings, but never before had they been this close. Dr. Barlow had warned them before she left on a mission that the Clankers would be targeting London soon, but Alek hadn’t thought it would be this soon.

Don’t you dare look out your window, darling, Alek pleaded with the girl silently, everything’s on fire. It was the one thing that terrified Deryn Sharp.

They scurried down the hall and under the trembling chandelier to the basement stairs. He led her to a corner and their they huddled, watching the dust fall from the ceiling with each new bomb. Alek tried to look brave as he brushed away the tears streaming down her face.

Her wide blue eyes met his as the ground shook more violently. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

“I’ll never let you go,” he assured her. “Just close your eyes. The sun is going down.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. Alek leaned his head onto hers, kissing her hair.

“You’ll be alright,” he breathed. “No one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound.”

The second one very closely fits the lyrics to the song, and even though their weren't really many bombings in WWI, there weren't living airships, either, so I figure it could happen.

If you like my story shuffles of Dalek and other Leviathan characters, please say so below, and I'll post more.