blahh

i missed today cause i have a stomach virus and conjunctivitis. :( so im like blind and not keeping food down. its so much fun. im so ticked cause i missed those time writes today and my doctor said i shouldnt come back to school for 3 days but thats poop so im going to do my best to be there tomorrow. and im not allowed to go back into work for a week cause they said im highly contagious and they dont want me to containmenate the chicken. i hate meat. anyway! that means i can stay after whenever my body stops hating me. i was wondering when i do come back if you could let me whip them out 4th blockk please? :) going to read catcher i just dont know how far to go!

Catcher in the Rye!!!!!!!!

hey Mrs Jones!,

So I started reading Catcher a little early and in chapter 2 Holden is talking to one of his teachers about what the headmaster had said to him when he had been told he was getting kicked out

"Oh... well, about life being a game and all. And how you should play it according to the rules." " He just kept talking about life being a game and all. You know."

Holden then thinks "Game, my ass. Some game. If you get on the side where all the hot-shots are, then it's a game, all right- I'll admit that. But if you get on the other side, where there aren't any hot-shots, then what's a game about it? Nothing. No game."

This made me laugh and think of the few times you've told me something similar. I think that's why this book is a classic because Holden gets fed up hearing the same things that everyone gets fed up hearing.

this weekends essay.

ms. Jones,
You may have made this clear before and I might not have heard it. But is the essay on "The Indisposable Opinion" supposed to be typed in MLA and turned in as a final draft? Or are we just supposed to have it written out on paper to work with it some more?

The Catcher in the Rye

So, I went out to trusty Barnes and Noble and picked up The Catcher in the Rye since were about to start reading it. I hope this book is good, but to be honest, all i've heard about it is that its horrible, not to mention its already on my bad side, because the guy who murdered John Lennon was carrying it in his coat pocket. Which makes me want to go in the book and shoot the main character, because that is the guy he said he was being. But then again we all know that the guy who killed John Lennon was a government agent, sent to portray a crazy man, so maybe my vendetta against this book has no foundation. Hmm, I guess i'll have to wait and see.
P.S. I dont want to become part of the Catcher Cult, if you have read the novel King Dork by a dude name Frank Portman then you know what i'm talking about, if not, go read King Dork.

homework

mrs jones i have no idea where to even begin with this paragraph for tongith. i know you say never to post so late but i had a soccer game and just now am starting my homework, i know awesome. but yeah i have no idea what to do, the prompt i just dont get. help X:

Um, what? XD

Call me 'The Butcher'

I feel terrible "correcting" Tim's paper.

What if he doesn't like me anymore? Constructive criticism sucks.

:(

And the homework is funny. Not funny haha, just funny.

Language!!????????

Hey Ms. Jones how accepting are you of curse words in this little narrative thing? I don't think I'm being too vulgar or inappropriate with my language but i don't want you to get upset. But if you do i will call it my diction and say the tone of my piece is vulgar and inappropriate.

Dear Mama Jones,

K so since you didn't answer my post I will just go ahead a write my other topic and you can deal :) k thanks bye

Maybe??

Ms. Jones, are you dead?

If so that sucks, and I'm sad.

Most likely you're not.

Hopefully my narrative doesn't suck so much that you didn't have the words to comment.

Or maybe its the reverse. It is so good that its just ineffable and you're just in awe of my awesomeness.

I like that one the best.

Well have a great Easter.

And be careful on those bikes ;P

Narrative

Mrs. Jones, finished my narrative, but the only thing im not sure of is how do we set up a conversation, where I have myself talking, another one talking, but also while this conversation is going im having thoughts about the conversation, oh and action. I'll give you what im talking about. mind you with just this conversation my narrative probably looks and sounds like crap, but honest its not that bad, I dont think. Oh, theres a couple choice language words, I know you said they were allowed, but I want to make sure, but this is really what I thought. Oh sorry this is so long. I dont have my paper written with the me/the evil one semi coloned, I have it like that so you can better understand it

me: Oh, did you know my grandma?
the evil one: yes, I did.
me: well, whats your name, because im not sure if she ever mentioned you before
the evil one: well she had a special nickname for me, but you can just call me patricia.
holds out her hand for me to shake
my thoughts: I would rather lick the bottom of an inner city trashcan, then touch your hand and I know what nickname I would have for you.
me: Oh, well isn't that sweet, yeah me and my grandma, we may have lived far away from one another, but we were really close and im pretty sure she never mentioned you
the evil one: really well thats a shame
my thought: im pretty damn well pleased she never mentioned you, because I hope she didnt know that you were fucking her drunkard of a husband, while she could barely stand
my suggary honey dripped voice left me, replaced with the most hateful, sarcastic voice that has ever came from my mouth

me: No, no its really not a shame, she probably never mentioned you, because you didnt make much of an impact on her life or any others for that matter other than Howard here, im sure you helped him through his grief so much in the bedroom.

I heard gasps all around me and the faces of adults held a look that to me just told me that I succeeded in everything I had set out to do and no other face told me more then the blond women in front of me. I turned and gave a mutinous look to my grandpa and turned back to the women and smirked at her and barely above a whisper, just so she and only she could hear what I was saying called her a whore. Then resumed the sweet innocent smile that I approached her with as a last parting note to remember me by and flounced off.

Spring Break

Has been relaxing.

Got back from Asheville the other day with Nelson.

Why is everyone calling you Moma Jones?

And the narrative its just an expression of something important that happened to us right?

I like mine a lot, but i don't know if its okay. So here's a piece of it if you don't ming perusing through it;

The things you think you’d miss upon on a plane ride across a vast sea to a new and unforgiving land are not actually what you miss. Eight hours is a long drawn out time to be in such close quarters with a woman whom you have everlasting abhorrence for. The flight probably had one of the largest effects on my estrangement from my immediate family overall. My anger filled me and I became more and more passionate the more I thought. Pray tell, what else may I have done on this journey? Clouds passed clouds that passed clouds. Everything spun. A myriad of emotions churned inside of me, and so ended the life of mine I once loved so much. My joy and youthful vigor, any resemblance of a child, whipped away with winds pushing 500miles per hour. Life had always been hard, but that day was bitterly harsh.