My cutest scar is the one on my elbow. When I straighten my left arm so the skin is loose you can see a scar that looks like a heart. It isn’t my favorite scar, but it is my cutest one. The scars that I am most proud of are the scars that I have gotten on the basketball court. My knees are complete scars from diving after the ball, or just plain out biffing it. I have scars from being scratched by girls on the opposing team, because they can’t play defense, so they scratch you! My scar that brings back the worst memories is the one my right foot. Let’s just say don’t get in a fight with a weed whacker, the weed whacker will win.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
The Sun Goes Down on My Summer
The Sun Goes Down on Summer
I sigh as I turn on the TV, this must be a dream,
Summer isn’t over yet, or so it seemed,
But I look out the window, and watch the sun go down on my summer.
Text my friends for one last sleepover,
And tell them my saddening news,
Korver, Brewer, and even Booze all traded to another team,
Now the Jazz are sure to lose.
Babysitting energizer bunnies,
Mowing the old folks lawns,
So I can have a few monies.
Shopping at the mall for the cutest clothes,
Spending all my money, and not knowing where it all goes.
Buying make-up, and products to tame my hair,
To cover up who I am, because in the summer I don’t care.
First day of school, I don’t want to go!
Walk through the doors; this all seems like a show.
Everybody a stranger to the person I’ve known them to be,
Showing me there is more to a person than what you see.
The gossip already fills the halls, guaranteeing a few brawls.
The warmth of summer fades, and the sun goes down on my summer.
Now that we are back in school the world shivers,
All of us missing the warmth and light the sun once delivered.
Looking around the room, it’s crazy how much people change,
But even crazier how much they stay the same.
We are all soldiers in this war game,
Taking orders from the Misters and Misses,
The sun officially sets on my summer.
I sigh as I turn on the TV, this must be a dream,
Summer isn’t over yet, or so it seemed,
But I look out the window, and watch the sun go down on my summer.
Text my friends for one last sleepover,
And tell them my saddening news,
Korver, Brewer, and even Booze all traded to another team,
Now the Jazz are sure to lose.
Babysitting energizer bunnies,
Mowing the old folks lawns,
So I can have a few monies.
Shopping at the mall for the cutest clothes,
Spending all my money, and not knowing where it all goes.
Buying make-up, and products to tame my hair,
To cover up who I am, because in the summer I don’t care.
First day of school, I don’t want to go!
Walk through the doors; this all seems like a show.
Everybody a stranger to the person I’ve known them to be,
Showing me there is more to a person than what you see.
The gossip already fills the halls, guaranteeing a few brawls.
The warmth of summer fades, and the sun goes down on my summer.
Now that we are back in school the world shivers,
All of us missing the warmth and light the sun once delivered.
Looking around the room, it’s crazy how much people change,
But even crazier how much they stay the same.
We are all soldiers in this war game,
Taking orders from the Misters and Misses,
The sun officially sets on my summer.
Me As A Writer
Kim Oldroyd
4th Hour
Me as a Writer
First thing about me as a writer is I do not know how to begin a paper. It is honestly the hardest things for me to do when I am writing a paper. That is also one of my many weaknesses as a writer; also grammar is a weakness of mine. I swear Mrs. Card got me all messed up on commas. Mrs. Card loves commas! If you didn’t have at least a hundred commas you would get a little note saying, “You need a comma here”. Well last year I had Mrs. Wakefield, and on all my papers she would write, “Too many commas”, or “I think you got a little comma happy”. Ninth grade year it was all about commas, and last year no commas, so I don’t know what it will be this year. Even in this paper I don’t know where to throw in a comma!
Some of my writing behaviors are eating, any kind of chips or ice cream. Then spilling ice cream all over my paper, and getting the eye from Mrs. Wakefield. Also, of course drinking mountain dew to keep me alive long enough to get the paper done. I normally write best when it is quiet that way I can hear my thoughts. I talk out loud to myself, and then read what I write as I go along, and then delete most of what I had just written. Ideally I would pace myself and write wonderfully, but I am the queen of procrastination, so I usually write the paper the day before it is due. Just like I am writing this paper and it is Monday, six ‘o clock at night, and I am just starting to write.
Writing research papers has been one of the most painful things I have done as writer/student, and maybe that is why I am bitter towards even the thought of writing. Last year I had to write a research paper for Mrs. Wakefield’s class. Yeah that sounds terrible, but I had her class eighth hour, and of course we had to write the paper during basketball season, so that meant I would be missing class! Mrs. Wakefield did the paper step by step during class, so it wouldn’t be as hard, but not being there made it that much harder. The days I was in her class were not bad, but the days I had to make were confusing. I would ask for help in class, and she would come read what I had written. She would read my work, the words of my soul, and she would use words like, awkward, unorganized, and immature to describe my work. I felt as if she were not even talking about my work, but me! That is why I am now so scared to share my writing with others. They might not even read the paper and just say what they think of me!
My strengths in writing…..well I am not even aware I have any strength in writing. My weaknesses, well now there is a never ending list! I am a terrible speller, proper grammar, and proper English, well they are proper and I am Kim. I only write on a regular basis during school, and I only write during school because I am forced to. My voice is not always heard in my papers. I try to sound smart and like I know what I am doing, so I will throw in big words, and commas, and crap. Then somewhere in all that smartness the voice of Kim is lost. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Labrum, told me to write just the way I talk. Then when I got my paper back and she pretty much told me to change everything I had written. Ever since then I have been scared to have my voice in my papers. I am now forever worried that it will sound too dumb, awkward, unorganized, and immature as Mrs. Wakefield would say.
One of my earliest writing experiences that I can kind of remember is writing love letters with Marqui. (This is the way I remember it so sorry Marqui if it is not totally correct). I was in fourth grade, and Marqui and I liked the same boy. Who just happened to be Braydon Bolotas, (okay so he was totally different in fourth grade).We were in class and Marqui had this bright idea to write him a note, so of course we did. We told Braydon that both Marqui and I liked him, and thought he was the cutest boy in school. Butterflies churned in my stomach as we passed the note to him, and watch him read who it was from. He looked at us with a questioning expression on his face, and started opening the note that we both had worked so hard on. Then as we both watched him, both of us on the edge of our seats. Not even blinking so we could see the expression on his face when he read it. Just as we were both about to fall off of our seats with anticipation he shoved the love note in his mouth, and ate it! I felt like I had just been punched in the gut! Like my heart had been ripped out of my very chest and stomped until there was nothing left! Oh, don’t worry though, both Marqui and I beat him up at recess, and Marqui started to like someone else, and in fifth grade I found someone new too. Andrei Kirilenko, guard, and forward for the Utah Jazz. In fact he still plays for the Utah Jazz. My feelings for love notes, well they are over rated! Boys are so dumb they will probably just end up eating it!
Another one of my weaknesses is that I don’t know how to end a paper. Me as a writer today, well I write okay enough to be in Honors English, and only write when I am in Honors English. I wish there was a magical ending for every paper that you write, like “And they lived happily ever after”, or just simply “The End”. Well I can’t say that though, because this is not the end, it is only the beginning. I am also pretty sure that we are going to be writing more papers in this class so I can’t say, “And they lived happily ever after”. Leaving me to say I hope that all of us live through this class, and the rest of this school year, we will survive, (or at least I hope we all do)!
4th Hour
Me as a Writer
First thing about me as a writer is I do not know how to begin a paper. It is honestly the hardest things for me to do when I am writing a paper. That is also one of my many weaknesses as a writer; also grammar is a weakness of mine. I swear Mrs. Card got me all messed up on commas. Mrs. Card loves commas! If you didn’t have at least a hundred commas you would get a little note saying, “You need a comma here”. Well last year I had Mrs. Wakefield, and on all my papers she would write, “Too many commas”, or “I think you got a little comma happy”. Ninth grade year it was all about commas, and last year no commas, so I don’t know what it will be this year. Even in this paper I don’t know where to throw in a comma!
Some of my writing behaviors are eating, any kind of chips or ice cream. Then spilling ice cream all over my paper, and getting the eye from Mrs. Wakefield. Also, of course drinking mountain dew to keep me alive long enough to get the paper done. I normally write best when it is quiet that way I can hear my thoughts. I talk out loud to myself, and then read what I write as I go along, and then delete most of what I had just written. Ideally I would pace myself and write wonderfully, but I am the queen of procrastination, so I usually write the paper the day before it is due. Just like I am writing this paper and it is Monday, six ‘o clock at night, and I am just starting to write.
Writing research papers has been one of the most painful things I have done as writer/student, and maybe that is why I am bitter towards even the thought of writing. Last year I had to write a research paper for Mrs. Wakefield’s class. Yeah that sounds terrible, but I had her class eighth hour, and of course we had to write the paper during basketball season, so that meant I would be missing class! Mrs. Wakefield did the paper step by step during class, so it wouldn’t be as hard, but not being there made it that much harder. The days I was in her class were not bad, but the days I had to make were confusing. I would ask for help in class, and she would come read what I had written. She would read my work, the words of my soul, and she would use words like, awkward, unorganized, and immature to describe my work. I felt as if she were not even talking about my work, but me! That is why I am now so scared to share my writing with others. They might not even read the paper and just say what they think of me!
My strengths in writing…..well I am not even aware I have any strength in writing. My weaknesses, well now there is a never ending list! I am a terrible speller, proper grammar, and proper English, well they are proper and I am Kim. I only write on a regular basis during school, and I only write during school because I am forced to. My voice is not always heard in my papers. I try to sound smart and like I know what I am doing, so I will throw in big words, and commas, and crap. Then somewhere in all that smartness the voice of Kim is lost. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Labrum, told me to write just the way I talk. Then when I got my paper back and she pretty much told me to change everything I had written. Ever since then I have been scared to have my voice in my papers. I am now forever worried that it will sound too dumb, awkward, unorganized, and immature as Mrs. Wakefield would say.
One of my earliest writing experiences that I can kind of remember is writing love letters with Marqui. (This is the way I remember it so sorry Marqui if it is not totally correct). I was in fourth grade, and Marqui and I liked the same boy. Who just happened to be Braydon Bolotas, (okay so he was totally different in fourth grade).We were in class and Marqui had this bright idea to write him a note, so of course we did. We told Braydon that both Marqui and I liked him, and thought he was the cutest boy in school. Butterflies churned in my stomach as we passed the note to him, and watch him read who it was from. He looked at us with a questioning expression on his face, and started opening the note that we both had worked so hard on. Then as we both watched him, both of us on the edge of our seats. Not even blinking so we could see the expression on his face when he read it. Just as we were both about to fall off of our seats with anticipation he shoved the love note in his mouth, and ate it! I felt like I had just been punched in the gut! Like my heart had been ripped out of my very chest and stomped until there was nothing left! Oh, don’t worry though, both Marqui and I beat him up at recess, and Marqui started to like someone else, and in fifth grade I found someone new too. Andrei Kirilenko, guard, and forward for the Utah Jazz. In fact he still plays for the Utah Jazz. My feelings for love notes, well they are over rated! Boys are so dumb they will probably just end up eating it!
Another one of my weaknesses is that I don’t know how to end a paper. Me as a writer today, well I write okay enough to be in Honors English, and only write when I am in Honors English. I wish there was a magical ending for every paper that you write, like “And they lived happily ever after”, or just simply “The End”. Well I can’t say that though, because this is not the end, it is only the beginning. I am also pretty sure that we are going to be writing more papers in this class so I can’t say, “And they lived happily ever after”. Leaving me to say I hope that all of us live through this class, and the rest of this school year, we will survive, (or at least I hope we all do)!
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