My daily journal entry… My Rockin’ Dream

My dream ROCKED last last night, thanks to emerald wolf, you are AWESOME! YOU ROCK!!!! LUV YA!! Without your help my dream would have just been a nightmare. So thank you, you are awesome. So gather round, erm….., people, and listen to the tale of a group of adventurers, struggling to stay alive…
Five kids were our clique, a clique bent on living. A flood was swamping the world, and we were so alone, nobody to come rescue us. We ran from it, and it chased us, a simple yet complicated plot, like a story we were trapped in that never seemed to end. We hid from it, in video games and in the crowds of a super crabby Justin Beiber concert (I couldn’t stop giggling, and the shocked expression on my sisters face was priceless), but it always managed to find us. At last, we were in some underground stone passageways, rather like a maze. Water dripped everywhere, and the place reeked of mildew.  Green moss was all around us, between the cracks of the ceiling and under our feet as we walked. But we were safe, and that was all that mattered to us.
Leader was barking orders at us. She was the bravest, most sensible, and fiercest leader we could ever have hoped for, willing to do whatever it took to stay alive. Lucille, the smallest, had the job of spreading grey fungus along the walls, because for some reason that would help us. I don’t know. Search me.
But all of a sudden the walls started rapidly turning grey, and we saw a wave of water coming right at us.
“Oh, no,” Lucille said.
For some reason, that sparked something in my memory. I thought of my friend and her tales of swooping through the sky in dreams she had realized she was in, and I thought, I’m in a dream. I’m in a dream! So I sprinted to the other side of the passageway, and suddenly, I was at the top of a stairwell in my school, and my fear of heights vanishing, I dove over the side and passed through the wall, spread my arms and I was flying. I was flying! It was a glorious sensation. The wind in my hair, under my arms and around my lower body. I loved it. It was so real to me, at least it felt real, that I wished so much it was true.
And then I woke up.
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A snippet of my daily journal entry… Type from the Heart

The heart is such a funny thing. I mean, why the feathers did people change a disgusting lump of life to a cute little symbol we use daily?
It’s so weird.
It reminds me of a Foxtrot comic. It’s Valentine’s Day dinner, and Peter’s like, I made you spaghetti, and Paige’s like, I made you juice, and then Jason says cheerily, “I made you heart shaped placemats,” which are shaped like the REAL HEART, details and all, and the parents are like, I’m not hungry. LOL.
I use like too much.
Don’t I?

A snippet of my daily journal entry… This Time

This Time

Love it.
The song, that is. I’m listening to it right now.
This time, I’m gonna do it my way, this time, ‘m finding out the hard way, this time, mmm mm m mm m mmm mmm mmm m mm m m m M m, this time, etc…
Okay. It stopped.
Click play!
Ahh…
There it is….
So many people are reading my blog now! I can’t believe it. I sent the link in an email to my teacher, who in turn sent it to all my teachers, and now I’m getting so many comments after I sent it to all my friends, and it’s SO cool!
And I was like, OH my gosh, It’s so AWEsome, cuz all these people readin’, make me wanna say,
OH, oh oh oh, oh OH, oh oh oh, oh OH, oh oh oh, oh OH Oh my gOSH!
YEAH!
THANK you, THANK you! Good night Alex and the cats! Yeah!
*slams guitar*
Yeah, yeah, I know. Being too dramatic and such. But can I help it that I want to be famous? *sigh* my life is so boring.
Oh. And btw, here’s the song.

My daily journal entry… Wow

READ WITH MUSIC
I’ve choked twice in a week
I went to the hospital cause I couldn’t breathe.
I’ve been bitten by a dog, neatly lost a parrot, and was knocked to the ground by the same dog.
My lovebird Squirrel nearly escaped twice.
TWICE.
Mom was replacing the toy and he flew into the kitchen.
It was hectic.
I didn’t know Daisy could catch birds.
But she can.
Then he slipped through the bars of the cage and was at the door of freedom nearly escaping very nearly and Dusty was squawking and everybody was hyper and-
and-
He couldn’t leave.
Masquerade just couldn’t leave.
Can anybody really just abandon the love of their life?
So he’s just sitting there, staring at the key to his heart, and everybody’s quiet, staring at him…
What decision will he make?
And then, of course, Mom came behind him with a broom, and frightened him, and made Squirrel fly around aimlessly for a bit.
Then Daisy made her second bird catch of the day.
But the sad part is that now we have to use mesh on their cage.
It’s depressing.
MUSIC:

My daily journal entry… Horses

I don’t know when it was that I stopped liking horses, though I suspect it was during the school year. It’s not that I don’t like horses. I love their majestic manes, their soft, glossy fur, their big black eyes. I’m just scared of riding them.
From the moment I got to camp, and clambered over the back of one of the horses, something just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was because of last summer, when I was unceremoniously thrown from Taffy’s back (and I don’t blame her, as I know exactly how it went down and besides, she was my favorite. I blame CB and Neville.), but I was scared. But I couldn’t back out of an activity I’d already signed up for, so I just had to cope. And please don’t give me that “conquer your fears” talk, ’cause trust me, it’s a lot harder than it sounds.
For some reason, I was calmest around Sheila, who surprisingly, had tossed off a rider and survived a backwards somersault. But when I was around her, I couldn’t see that side that had freaked and done a flip, ’cause she was extremely quiet and docile. She was perfect for me.
I had two good friends in my horse riding class: Lydia and Raya. Lydia has been my friend since last year, and Raya I had met in drama class.
I don’t think I’ll ever step foot in the riding area again.
It was Mom’s Weekend, when our moms came to our camp, set up tents, and watched us do our activities. Since Claire and I have different schedules, my mom had to split activities with us. She’d watched me riding.
My mom accidentally caught part of the fiasco on video tape, if you want to see it.
We were each doing a trot around the arena. That’s when my mom started recording. I got through it okay. Actually, I was just glad it was over with. It was Raya’s turn that got messy.
I’ve forgotten what her horse was called, but I do know that the counselors claim he is psychic. I don’t really know, as I’ve never actually ridden him, but I think I’m gonna have to take their word for it.
Raya had a good trot going about halfway around the arena, but that’s when her horse started to slow down. So she gave him a good kick… A little too hard.
Her horse’s trot turned into a canter.
The rest is just a blur of memories, but I can remember Raya’s scream, her frantic pull on the reins, spooking the horse into flinging her into the hard wooden fence. The rest of us were in a pileup in the corner, with a riderless horse charging right at us.
It made a smooth turn and rushed another horse.
Luckily, the riding staff caught both of the horses then. Raya and the girl on the other horse were crying, and Lydia, who was right next to me, raised an eyebrow.
To my embarrassment, I found myself crying.
The weaker baby bird died today.

My daily journal entry… sinamun

Some time ago, I was chatting with my friend, Kristen, on Gmail. I wanted to see her Zimmertwins videos, and she mine. But neither of us really knew how to view the others’ videos. So she gave me her username, and I gave her mine, which was sinamun. And then she asked me how to pronounce it.

I felt a little bit embarrassed then, ’cause although sinamun is a play on words (the word being cinnamon), it does come with its disadvantages.

Have you ever owned a webkinz? If you have, you will know that when you reach the tournament arena, your username is shortened to the first three letters. For example, if your username was volleyball9160, and you had a goldfish named Fluffy, you’d be vol with Fluffy with a picture of Fluffy.

You get it, don’t you? So other people see me as sin with Sabine. Sin. Owch. But I can’t talk about that right now ’cause Daisy found some baby birds and we had to feed them bread saturated with milk and-

Calm down. Calm down. Okay, so here’s how it all started. I was writing in my journal at the black table, when Daisy came in from the kitchen holding a small, origami made box, probably made from a magazine page (we always keep a few of those on the microwave) and plonked it down next to the water jug. Naturally, Claire and I looked in. And what were in there? Baby birds. And I’m not talking about those adorable fuzzy little chicks you see in movies or stuff like that. No way, Jose. I’m talking two featherless, miniscule babies, who haven’t even opened their eyes yet, with reddish-brown transparent skin so you can see their body parts (internal). Their limbs are so feeble it’s all they can do to scoot around on their backs and wave their legs and twist their necks. But they are cute, I suppose, in that ugly duckling kind of way. At least, that’s what I thought. And the moment I saw them, with their petite yellow beaks and their black rimmed wings, a crazy, half-formed thought danced through my head: did Daisy find these when she was cracking eggs?
Look, I know it was stupid. And for a few reasons. One, why would Daisy be cracking eggs? We had tortellinis for lunch (this is a note I made afterwards). Two, If they were found in eggs, they’d be covered in sticky stuff. And they’d be dead. But still, don’t blame me. Blame my imagination.
“Woah, what are those?” Claire and I woahed.
After we called for Mom, Daisy explained she’d found the baby birds in our yard, soaked with water. Quickly she’d went inside, grabbed a box and a paper towel, and gently laid them inside. She had no idea what to do with them now.
We peered more closely into the box. One bird, a darker reddish color, was craning its neck and doing that thing birds do when they really want food. The other was paler and stirring feebly. They looked like they were going to die.
My mom launched a bird website, wondering if we could get worms from the bird store in time, and quickly dialed the number of my father, the bird expert, in the family. Daisy, Claire and I could only watch the birds, and wish and pray.
We could hear Mom in the other room: “Soak bread in cow milk? Okay… what about regular milk?” Quickly, we grabbed the milk and a piece of bread for her. She said, “Thanks,” and hung up.
The first piece of bread was a fail. The second, however, was okay. Using a chopstick and what looked like a plastic tuner, she attempted to put crumbs of saturated milk into the begging bird’s mouth. After a few tries, she did it. Yay! We fed the other bird as well, but their future was still unclear. But feeding them was fun.
Later, at lunch, my mom commented on and concocted a mixture consisting of egg yolk (as a solid), canned tuna, and a little bit of water which we used to feed the birds every quarter hour or so. But I don’t think they have a very fast digestive system (considerably fast by our standards, though), as right now both of their bellies are full and we’re expecting messes (yes, we can tell. Isn’t that gross?). But they both seem very healthy, and though the bird website says that 90-95% of birds taken in by humans die, I think these two might make it. Keep your fingers crossed.

A snippet of my daily journal entry… Zimmertwins Mishaps

Hey. It’s me again.
Well, anyway, let’s get down to business. There’s this website called zimmertwins.com which I wanted to play on but forgot what it was called. I knew it had two twins, a boy and a girl, and a cat, but I couldn’t remember any of their names. Well today, I remembered! The cat’s name was 13. So I searched Google for: twin girl and boy and cat 13 animation, and I found it! Booyah!  So I tried to make a video, which I’d done, but then I realized I had to create an account, which I’d thought I’d done, but then I realized I hadn’t made an account at all! So then I had to remake the video, after logging in, of course, but didn’t type anything in for the speech bubbles. I figured I’d do that later. But then, when I went back to it to edit it, I found I couldn’t! It was so infuriating! So now I have to redo it for the third time in a row. That was sad. I’ll post it when it’s done. Until then, sayonara!

A snippet of my daily journal entry… Reincarnation

My friend Kristen gave a poll about animals. She asked, “Which animal do you like best?”, and gave a list of choices. Here are the results of the poll:
the winner of the “which is your fav animal?” is dog w/ 8 votes!! any aquatic animal & owl comes in second w/ 2 votes…& in third place is cat & any other animal!!! Congrats to all who voted for dog!!
I didn’t vote ’cause I wasn’t sure, but I think my favorite animal is a lynx. They may not be the prettiest animals around, but I still love them, though I’m not really sure why. I also like cats, ’cause I have two at home, Fluffy and Fuzzy. Fluffy, for your info, is that cat who is always begging to be pet, not that other cat Fuzzy who stares at birds all day, eats table scraps, and who I’ve never, ever heard purr.

Yeah, that's right. This soft lovable furrball is related to wild carnivores. Hard to believe for a cat that only eats cat food, butter and canned tuna.

Fluffy, The Lovable

Fuzzy, The Fierce

Click here for a picture of a lynx:

A snippet of my daily journal entry… Purrrrrrrfect

Speaking of Ana, I remember the time she was at our house for a playdate in New York. We didn’t have Fuzzy then. Her parents came into our house to pick her up. And, they just had to bring Moe.
Moe is her Labrador Retriever. He’s pretty old now, ’cause back then he was really big.
So, they brought Moe in, and I think he was barking, ’cause he smelled cat, of course. Then, I think Fluffy got scared and ran somewhere, and Moe saw her, and he’s like, “CAT!!!!!!!!!!” So he wrenches away from Ana’s parents, and tears after Fluffy, still wearing his leash. I’m sorry Fluffy, but I was half petrified and half rolling on the floor with laughter. The memory’s kinda fuzzy, but I can recall tiny Fluffy streaking under the black table, while big Moe crashes into it, while somehow managing to go under it at the same time. In the end, Fluffy scampered under my parent’s bed as Ana’s parents held Moe back. Just something fun to remember.