- How to (Professionally) criticize artwork
- That my art teacher is in reality a pretty good painter (I wouldn't have guessed, she could have been a sculptor like my last art teacher)
- Either way, I don't normally get to see my art teacher's own personal artwork.
Friday, December 8, 2006
Fact of the Day-Art
I won't give specifics because that would be tedious and probably uninteresting to you. I will, however, say that I learned:
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Fact of the Day-Chemistry
My dad's always getting on me about not remembering what I learn (if I learn anything that day) so I figured I'd do something about it. From here on in, I will write at least one fact I learn everyday.
Today's Fact of the Day pertains to Chemistry, just as the title suggests.
Today's Fact of the Day pertains to Chemistry, just as the title suggests.
I learned:
- how suffixes of Ionic Compounds are determined
- -ate, -ite, -ide
- Ex: Sodium Chloride is what's called a binary ionic compound because it's made of two different elements: (NaCl) Sodium and Chlorine. All binary ionic compounds end in -ide, no matter the number of atoms of one of the two elements.
That's it for today. Come back for more tomorrow!
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Continuation of Who Knew? (11/28/06)
If you haven't read the first part of Who Knew? or need a refresher, I suggest that you go to http://stardragger.blogspot.com/2006/11/story-who-knew-not-finished.html before you read this post. With that said and done, I hope you enjoy this! (By the way, it's still not finished, so don't get your hopes up too high!)
________________
I heard the slammed door I’d been listening for and yelled up to my dad, “What are we having for dinner and can you make sure we have enough food for an extra person tomorrow night?”
“Food!” He responded to my first question. I had expected that answer and was already on my way up the stairs.
“Very funny, Dad. You know what I mean.”
As he took the top off of the pan for me to see what he was cooking, he asked, “So, who’s the visitor for tomorrow and why do you always insist on telling me, the cook, on such short notice?”
“Because I’m mean like that, Dad. What kind of food that you eat are we having for dinner tomorrow?”
He frowned playfully, trying to think of another way to trip me up. I had already used his normal arsenal of true, but unhelpful, responses.
“Okay, fine. Does homemade pizza sound good?” I nodded, happily contemplating tomorrow night’s dinner. “What time is he coming? That is, unless you want to subject him to our chicken-barbecue sauce combo.”
“I’m pretty sure he’ll survive. It’s not like it’s your Shrimp Creole.” He smiled at this. I was sure that even he could barely stand the spiciness of his favorite shrimp dish, despite his tolerance for spicy foods. “He’s supposed to be coming at seven. Is that all you need?” I asked as I started to descend the stairs. I’d been working on my newest Dean Koontz book when I was interrupted by Mr. Slick and would have liked very much to continue reading.
“No, set the table, please.”
“Kaytlin, do you want to help me set the table?”
___________________________________
The next afternoon finally rolled around and found me trying to do my homework and clean the living room at the same time. It wasn’t too hard since there wasn’t much on the floor and I was reading a book for my English class. I would have waited until I was done cleaning because I’m a fast reader but when you’re dealing with three AP classes, you can’t wait.
“Don’t worry about the table. Kaytlin and I will handle it.”
“Thank you.”
“In the meantime, get ready. Your friend’s supposed to be here in an hour,” my dad continued as he eyed my school outfit of frayed jeans and a Robotics Competition shirt with spots all over it.
“Okey dokey.” I stomped downstairs and put on my nice jeans he’d given me a couple weeks ago and my navy blue “Overeducated and underemployed” shirt. I finished off my “look” by putting on my whale tail necklace, rolling the cuffs of my jeans and putting my hair in its usual double ponytail.
On my way back upstairs to grab my backpack, I passed my mom on her way down the stairs with her arms full of laundry.
“Well, I must say that I’m a little surprised. Since when do you do the laundry?”
“Since today because your dad’s making dinner and you need your uniform for softball tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s right! I never remember anymore because I don’t get to look forward to seeing Mr. Mark or Mr. Charlie.” My mother rolled her eyes. She knew I still held a grudge for not being able to play for Harundale the last couple seasons.
________________
I heard the slammed door I’d been listening for and yelled up to my dad, “What are we having for dinner and can you make sure we have enough food for an extra person tomorrow night?”
“Food!” He responded to my first question. I had expected that answer and was already on my way up the stairs.
“Very funny, Dad. You know what I mean.”
As he took the top off of the pan for me to see what he was cooking, he asked, “So, who’s the visitor for tomorrow and why do you always insist on telling me, the cook, on such short notice?”
“Because I’m mean like that, Dad. What kind of food that you eat are we having for dinner tomorrow?”
He frowned playfully, trying to think of another way to trip me up. I had already used his normal arsenal of true, but unhelpful, responses.
“Okay, fine. Does homemade pizza sound good?” I nodded, happily contemplating tomorrow night’s dinner. “What time is he coming? That is, unless you want to subject him to our chicken-barbecue sauce combo.”
“I’m pretty sure he’ll survive. It’s not like it’s your Shrimp Creole.” He smiled at this. I was sure that even he could barely stand the spiciness of his favorite shrimp dish, despite his tolerance for spicy foods. “He’s supposed to be coming at seven. Is that all you need?” I asked as I started to descend the stairs. I’d been working on my newest Dean Koontz book when I was interrupted by Mr. Slick and would have liked very much to continue reading.
“No, set the table, please.”
“Kaytlin, do you want to help me set the table?”
___________________________________
The next afternoon finally rolled around and found me trying to do my homework and clean the living room at the same time. It wasn’t too hard since there wasn’t much on the floor and I was reading a book for my English class. I would have waited until I was done cleaning because I’m a fast reader but when you’re dealing with three AP classes, you can’t wait.
“Don’t worry about the table. Kaytlin and I will handle it.”
“Thank you.”
“In the meantime, get ready. Your friend’s supposed to be here in an hour,” my dad continued as he eyed my school outfit of frayed jeans and a Robotics Competition shirt with spots all over it.
“Okey dokey.” I stomped downstairs and put on my nice jeans he’d given me a couple weeks ago and my navy blue “Overeducated and underemployed” shirt. I finished off my “look” by putting on my whale tail necklace, rolling the cuffs of my jeans and putting my hair in its usual double ponytail.
On my way back upstairs to grab my backpack, I passed my mom on her way down the stairs with her arms full of laundry.
“Well, I must say that I’m a little surprised. Since when do you do the laundry?”
“Since today because your dad’s making dinner and you need your uniform for softball tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s right! I never remember anymore because I don’t get to look forward to seeing Mr. Mark or Mr. Charlie.” My mother rolled her eyes. She knew I still held a grudge for not being able to play for Harundale the last couple seasons.
A Story: Jam Session *Not Finished*
“Hey, Patterson, I’m going to Glen Burnie to visit my old orchestra teacher. I know you’ve been anxious to meet him. Last time we talked, he said that he couldn’t wait to finally meet you either.” Amanda was excited. She had been waiting since she got to know Mr. Patterson for him and Mr. Wade to meet each other. They were so alike that she knew they’d get along. “Would you like to join me?”
“I don’t see why not, Amanda. Today is okay, right? I hope it’s not any inconvenience but today is the best day for a while.” Mr. Patterson’s whole face was lit up. He had already been let down when he lost his chance to meet Mr. Wade at the Morgan State University performances in Amanda’s ninth and tenth grade years. “So, is there anything I should bring?”
“Hmmm, bring your saxophone and some music that I know well. Oh, and please make sure you get a trumpet part for Mr. Wade and a French horn part for Andrew as well. Mr. Wade hasn’t heard him play yet.”
“Whoa, relax. You may be the band president but you still can’t order me around like your boyfriend.” He smirked; he was only joking. His jibe about her boyfriend wasn’t far off, but it was more that she could keep him in line well than the fact that she controlled him. Whatever the situation, Patterson couldn’t complain. Amanda was the reason he had a saxophone player that could play almost as well as him and a French horn player at all. Because of her, Andrew had come up from North Carolina after he graduated high school. In dire times, Andrew wasn’t a bad backup percussionist either.
“I’ll try to keep that in mind, sir. By the way, Andrew’s giving me a ride and you can ride with us if you want. That way, you don’t have to follow Andrew’s erratic driving.”
“Sounds good. Anything else that I should make sure I have before Drew gets here?” Mr. Patterson said his name with the sort of respect a good teacher has for his students. He respected Amanda in the same way and so was glad that she and Andrew had been able to find each other. They both reminded him of himself and it felt good to be able to teach them directly from his own mistakes.
“Just your personality, my friend, just bring your personality.” Amanda patted her teacher’s shoulder and went back to gathering her stuff so it was ready to go.
_____________________________
When Andrew arrived, there was a hailstorm of “hello’s” and “how are you’s”. Andrew only played with the band. If someone were to go to school records, he or she would never find him because he never went to Dundalk High.
Andrew hugged Amanda and kissed her on her forehead. “So, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, so long as you don’t mind if Mr. Patterson rides with us. He wanted to come, but he did not want to attempt to follow your erratic driving.”
“My erratic driving? I think you’re imagining things.”
“You’re too smart for your own good. Then again, why do you think I love you?”
“Are you two lovebirds coming or do I have to drag you out at drumstick-point?” Andrew smiled again and Amanda giggled as she picked up some of her stuff and followed her teacher out the back door of the classroom. Andrew had come in empty-handed so he got the rest of her stuff (like she knew he would) and followed them into the bright sunlight.
“I don’t see why not, Amanda. Today is okay, right? I hope it’s not any inconvenience but today is the best day for a while.” Mr. Patterson’s whole face was lit up. He had already been let down when he lost his chance to meet Mr. Wade at the Morgan State University performances in Amanda’s ninth and tenth grade years. “So, is there anything I should bring?”
“Hmmm, bring your saxophone and some music that I know well. Oh, and please make sure you get a trumpet part for Mr. Wade and a French horn part for Andrew as well. Mr. Wade hasn’t heard him play yet.”
“Whoa, relax. You may be the band president but you still can’t order me around like your boyfriend.” He smirked; he was only joking. His jibe about her boyfriend wasn’t far off, but it was more that she could keep him in line well than the fact that she controlled him. Whatever the situation, Patterson couldn’t complain. Amanda was the reason he had a saxophone player that could play almost as well as him and a French horn player at all. Because of her, Andrew had come up from North Carolina after he graduated high school. In dire times, Andrew wasn’t a bad backup percussionist either.
“I’ll try to keep that in mind, sir. By the way, Andrew’s giving me a ride and you can ride with us if you want. That way, you don’t have to follow Andrew’s erratic driving.”
“Sounds good. Anything else that I should make sure I have before Drew gets here?” Mr. Patterson said his name with the sort of respect a good teacher has for his students. He respected Amanda in the same way and so was glad that she and Andrew had been able to find each other. They both reminded him of himself and it felt good to be able to teach them directly from his own mistakes.
“Just your personality, my friend, just bring your personality.” Amanda patted her teacher’s shoulder and went back to gathering her stuff so it was ready to go.
_____________________________
When Andrew arrived, there was a hailstorm of “hello’s” and “how are you’s”. Andrew only played with the band. If someone were to go to school records, he or she would never find him because he never went to Dundalk High.
Andrew hugged Amanda and kissed her on her forehead. “So, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, so long as you don’t mind if Mr. Patterson rides with us. He wanted to come, but he did not want to attempt to follow your erratic driving.”
“My erratic driving? I think you’re imagining things.”
“You’re too smart for your own good. Then again, why do you think I love you?”
“Are you two lovebirds coming or do I have to drag you out at drumstick-point?” Andrew smiled again and Amanda giggled as she picked up some of her stuff and followed her teacher out the back door of the classroom. Andrew had come in empty-handed so he got the rest of her stuff (like she knew he would) and followed them into the bright sunlight.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
Chair Test
While I'm not one to brag (or at least mention that I feel bad if I start bragging), I do have to say that I'm looking forward to Chair Test results for Band. I basically KNOW which chair I have already since Mr. Patterson was muy impressed with how well I did today.
Since I've been playing for a little over a year (sometime in November), the fact that I can do as well as I did impresses me as well. I've always had issues with nerves, but that was my only true downfall. This time, however, I was able to quell my nerves long enough to finish and listen to one of my best friends and the current 2nd Chair attempt his chair test. Mind you, he's not a bad player, he just doesn't try when it comes to chair tests and practices exactly zero.
In past times, he was able to keep up because let's just say the other Tenth grader isn't the best in the world (no offense and I'm truly truly sorry). However, the Ninth grader we gained this year has true skills. While he didn't do the best, he struggled his way through the Etude when the 2nd Chair didn't even attempt it. (Gosh darn it, Rob, it's your own fault!!) Anyway, we shall see how this year goes...
The 2nd Chair, the person that he is, pretended to leave after I finished. The Bari Sax player (who used to play Alto Sax) even said, "I quit." (Chair Test, not Band) All in humor of course, but I thought it was rather flattering. Maybe I've found my true artistic calling in life. Now, all I have to do is work on my Tone...
On a slightly different note (:-P...okay, bad joke), I was playing football earlier with the Band President and one of the Trumpet players. First of all, the Prez was surprised at how well I could catch and throw a ball. I was just surprised how well I was throwing it. Apparently, I'm not too bad (or I'm terrible, depending on whose perspective you're reading this from) at blocking the ball. The Prez threw it between the Trumpeter and me and I blocked the ball, inadvertently sending it between the Trumpet player's legs (OW!!). Oops. I don't think he'll ever forgive me, not that I require his forgiveness. It was an accident, after all.
Wow, that was all in one day, amazing! So, how was your day??
Since I've been playing for a little over a year (sometime in November), the fact that I can do as well as I did impresses me as well. I've always had issues with nerves, but that was my only true downfall. This time, however, I was able to quell my nerves long enough to finish and listen to one of my best friends and the current 2nd Chair attempt his chair test. Mind you, he's not a bad player, he just doesn't try when it comes to chair tests and practices exactly zero.
In past times, he was able to keep up because let's just say the other Tenth grader isn't the best in the world (no offense and I'm truly truly sorry). However, the Ninth grader we gained this year has true skills. While he didn't do the best, he struggled his way through the Etude when the 2nd Chair didn't even attempt it. (Gosh darn it, Rob, it's your own fault!!) Anyway, we shall see how this year goes...
The 2nd Chair, the person that he is, pretended to leave after I finished. The Bari Sax player (who used to play Alto Sax) even said, "I quit." (Chair Test, not Band) All in humor of course, but I thought it was rather flattering. Maybe I've found my true artistic calling in life. Now, all I have to do is work on my Tone...
On a slightly different note (:-P...okay, bad joke), I was playing football earlier with the Band President and one of the Trumpet players. First of all, the Prez was surprised at how well I could catch and throw a ball. I was just surprised how well I was throwing it. Apparently, I'm not too bad (or I'm terrible, depending on whose perspective you're reading this from) at blocking the ball. The Prez threw it between the Trumpeter and me and I blocked the ball, inadvertently sending it between the Trumpet player's legs (OW!!). Oops. I don't think he'll ever forgive me, not that I require his forgiveness. It was an accident, after all.
Wow, that was all in one day, amazing! So, how was your day??
Monday, December 4, 2006
A Story: Four *Not Finished*
As I woke up, flashes of the night before rushed through my head and almost gave me a headache. Or a worse one, I should say. My head was throbbing like crazy and I could feel the pressure of a bandage wound tightly around it. Short flashes of me getting picked up by the ambulance and being wheeled into this room assured my assumption.
Consciousness finally stuck and I became aware of the feeling that someone was watching me. That sixth sense had always either kept my siblings out of my room or scared the heck out of me. I slowly opened my eyes and, noticing the extreme brightness of the room, shut them tightly again. I heard a familiar voice say, “She’s waking up. Turn off one of the lights and go get her visitors.” It was my mom.
But who was she talking to? I didn’t think she’d talk to my dad like that, but considering the circumstances, I was in no shape to be thinking deep thoughts. Who were my visitors? Family, if they came at all, wouldn’t have flown out this soon. When I finally did open my eyes, my mom was standing over me with a look on her face I’d never seen before. I attempted to squeak out a “Hi, Mom” but not much came out.
She leaned over and hugged me really hard. As she stood up, she whispered, “I love you but I have to go pee really bad. I wanted to be here when you woke up.” I smiled weakly.
“Besides, there are a few people here that you’d probably prefer a private conversation with.”
“Thanks,” I finally whispered as I thought of who the visitors might be. There wasn’t really anyone I’d expect to be here that didn’t have to travel far and didn’t need a ride.
~~~*~~~*~~~
I closed my eyes for just a second and reopened them when I heard a hesitant voice say, “Amanda? Are you still awake?” What, or more so who, I saw surprised me to no end. Standing by my bed were three of my teachers: Mr. Wade, Mr. Bullerman, and Mr. Patterson.
All three wore a mixed look of worry and thankfulness that I was okay. Mr. Wade leaned close and asked, “Do you mind if I hug you? In front of them, I mean.”
“Not at all.”
He hugged me tightly and as he straightened back up, I sat up a bit more in the bed. It felt weird, lying there with them standing all around me. Not only was it the most vulnerable I had felt around them, but lying in bed with only this papery nightgown and a blanket on me didn’t seem like the right situation to be surrounded by teachers. It would’ve been the stuff of nightmares for most kids, but I took it at the fact they cared about me and I didn’t mind.
“I appreciate the fact that you’re here and I understand what it means, but how did you get time to come here? Don’t you have work to do?”
Mr. Bullerman stepped forward to explain. “We’ve all taken at least a small risk in coming here today, especially without much notice. We are the ones who were most motivated to come and we are here to represent those who couldn’t make it but still send their wishes of good health.” He turned to Mr. Wade and Mr. Patterson for a second. “You don’t mind if I refer to you two by your first names in front of her, right?” As they shook their heads, he turned back to me.
“I know all of your first names, so I’ll follow just fine.”
“Good. Obviously, Tony represents all of Corkran, or at least those who know. He’d probably tell anyone else you’d like to know as well. Ken and I represent different parts of Dundalk High. By the way, is there anyone you’d personally like to be informed of…your condition?” His eyes glistened and it nearly made me cry too.
“Anyone I say, only tell them I’m in the hospital, not why particularly. If they ask, tell them I asked you not to say so that I could do it myself. Okey dokey?”
“Deal,” all three said simultaneously.
“Thank you.” I turned to Mr. Wade. “Who knows at Corkran?”
“Your mom sent out a mass email to basically anyone in your address book, so anybody in there I guess. Mr. Palazzo knows, at least.”
“There’s only one other person, then. Please talk to Mr. Keegan, Mr. Muha, all three gym teachers, and anybody else that you know that I know well.” I took a breath and was about to continue, but Mr. Patterson spoke up. He had been uncharacteristically quiet so I was worried about how he was taking all of this.
“By the way, we were talking earlier and there’s something we’d like you to know. It may have been your head that got hurt, but that’s not what we’re really worried about. As long as-”
“Oh, Amanda, I’m so sorry about what happened to you. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Patterson wasn’t as infuriated at being interrupted as he was surprised about who was leaning down to hug me. As Phil stood back up, I could see the looks on the other two’s faces. Here was a very well-known country artist, personally coming to say a ‘Get Well’ to one of their students.
Finally, Mr. Wade was able to get something past his lips. “Phil…Vassar?”
“It’s not your fault. You know, you didn’t have to come all the way out here. I would’ve understood if you just sent a card. Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere in Illinois?”
"I couldn’t let down my biggest fan or my best non-family helper with my music.”
Consciousness finally stuck and I became aware of the feeling that someone was watching me. That sixth sense had always either kept my siblings out of my room or scared the heck out of me. I slowly opened my eyes and, noticing the extreme brightness of the room, shut them tightly again. I heard a familiar voice say, “She’s waking up. Turn off one of the lights and go get her visitors.” It was my mom.
But who was she talking to? I didn’t think she’d talk to my dad like that, but considering the circumstances, I was in no shape to be thinking deep thoughts. Who were my visitors? Family, if they came at all, wouldn’t have flown out this soon. When I finally did open my eyes, my mom was standing over me with a look on her face I’d never seen before. I attempted to squeak out a “Hi, Mom” but not much came out.
She leaned over and hugged me really hard. As she stood up, she whispered, “I love you but I have to go pee really bad. I wanted to be here when you woke up.” I smiled weakly.
“Besides, there are a few people here that you’d probably prefer a private conversation with.”
“Thanks,” I finally whispered as I thought of who the visitors might be. There wasn’t really anyone I’d expect to be here that didn’t have to travel far and didn’t need a ride.
~~~*~~~*~~~
I closed my eyes for just a second and reopened them when I heard a hesitant voice say, “Amanda? Are you still awake?” What, or more so who, I saw surprised me to no end. Standing by my bed were three of my teachers: Mr. Wade, Mr. Bullerman, and Mr. Patterson.
All three wore a mixed look of worry and thankfulness that I was okay. Mr. Wade leaned close and asked, “Do you mind if I hug you? In front of them, I mean.”
“Not at all.”
He hugged me tightly and as he straightened back up, I sat up a bit more in the bed. It felt weird, lying there with them standing all around me. Not only was it the most vulnerable I had felt around them, but lying in bed with only this papery nightgown and a blanket on me didn’t seem like the right situation to be surrounded by teachers. It would’ve been the stuff of nightmares for most kids, but I took it at the fact they cared about me and I didn’t mind.
“I appreciate the fact that you’re here and I understand what it means, but how did you get time to come here? Don’t you have work to do?”
Mr. Bullerman stepped forward to explain. “We’ve all taken at least a small risk in coming here today, especially without much notice. We are the ones who were most motivated to come and we are here to represent those who couldn’t make it but still send their wishes of good health.” He turned to Mr. Wade and Mr. Patterson for a second. “You don’t mind if I refer to you two by your first names in front of her, right?” As they shook their heads, he turned back to me.
“I know all of your first names, so I’ll follow just fine.”
“Good. Obviously, Tony represents all of Corkran, or at least those who know. He’d probably tell anyone else you’d like to know as well. Ken and I represent different parts of Dundalk High. By the way, is there anyone you’d personally like to be informed of…your condition?” His eyes glistened and it nearly made me cry too.
“Anyone I say, only tell them I’m in the hospital, not why particularly. If they ask, tell them I asked you not to say so that I could do it myself. Okey dokey?”
“Deal,” all three said simultaneously.
“Thank you.” I turned to Mr. Wade. “Who knows at Corkran?”
“Your mom sent out a mass email to basically anyone in your address book, so anybody in there I guess. Mr. Palazzo knows, at least.”
“There’s only one other person, then. Please talk to Mr. Keegan, Mr. Muha, all three gym teachers, and anybody else that you know that I know well.” I took a breath and was about to continue, but Mr. Patterson spoke up. He had been uncharacteristically quiet so I was worried about how he was taking all of this.
“By the way, we were talking earlier and there’s something we’d like you to know. It may have been your head that got hurt, but that’s not what we’re really worried about. As long as-”
“Oh, Amanda, I’m so sorry about what happened to you. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Patterson wasn’t as infuriated at being interrupted as he was surprised about who was leaning down to hug me. As Phil stood back up, I could see the looks on the other two’s faces. Here was a very well-known country artist, personally coming to say a ‘Get Well’ to one of their students.
Finally, Mr. Wade was able to get something past his lips. “Phil…Vassar?”
“It’s not your fault. You know, you didn’t have to come all the way out here. I would’ve understood if you just sent a card. Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere in Illinois?”
"I couldn’t let down my biggest fan or my best non-family helper with my music.”
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