There is a very interesting connection between Marina and onions. First of all, neither of them brush their teeth. Second of all, Marina seems to devour these things as though they are simply apples that need to be bitten into.
Onions seem to have a knack of attacking her when she is having a friendly conversation with Bamba the cactus about how nice the lamp has been for giving them light.
Two minutes later, a fleet of onions storms her room and start slicing themselves and making her cry. It is a very sad occasion. The world seems to have turned against Marina in her eyes of complete insanity. It probably has. Even Bamba's prickles now turn deadly with poison. His read head now engulfed with rage for Marina had not resisted the urge to cry.
I stand there, in the air, despite the laws of gravity, pitying this poor soul. But pity never gets anyone anywhere does it? Annie Sullivan never gave an ounce of pity towards Helen Keller. Why should Marina and her onion problem be treated any differently?
The answer is no. She shouldn't. The onions are her problem. And yet, I find myself gliding down rather slowly to observe closer what needs to be done to defeat these hideous onions.
I begin to feel sad for these onions. The only way they will be defeated is if I hack through each and every one of those onions with no mercy in my heart. It would be easy enough, I recently bought a "Forever Sharp" chopping knife. The knife is merely 10 metres wide. That should be long enough don't you think?
Yes. It is.
HACK HACK HACK HACK HACK HACK!!!!!!!
The deed is done. The onions are defeated. Marina is now safe. Bamba has turned to his normal state of cute prickliness. The world is now safe from harm of any onions.
Life Lesson: Pity is not excepted. Saving someone from the peril of onions is.
I commented on Lyndsey's blog this week.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
S is for Singing
When I sing, everything inside me gets left behind. When I sing, I don't think. When I sing, the world around me escapes it's solidity and leaves behind a misty cloud. When I sing, the audience disappears, all except for the people I know.
When the world sings, the audience sits in awe, knowing no sound more beautiful. Then the world will finally be at peace.
Unfortunately, some people don't want to sing. People seem to think that singing would make them die. They think that the whole world will laugh at them because they supposedly 'can't' sing. Everyone can sing.
People think that when they sing, people will put them down and say things like 'What was that?'. Some people will actually say that but those are really stupid inconsiderate people. Most people who hear someone sing want them to do well.
So the problem lies in making people sing. Even in churches people don't always sing. I find it extremely difficult not to sing, but that's just me. And a lot of other people. In churches I can kind of understand if the pitch isn't right but then you could sing off key and have a great time anyway.
When I lived in Holland, I used to on Christmas go to midnight mass. The only real reason I went there was because I could sing Christmas carols with my dad in whatever other language there was of that particular carol. Very fun singing O come All Ye faithful in Latin. Yet another fun thing about singing.
If you're worried about not sounding very good then live with it and continue to sing. Or you can go to a singing teacher and have fun there. Or join a choir. It is the best way to meet new people and becoming a better singer in general.
Overall, I think singing is the best thing ever. Everyone should sing, not because they have to, but because it's fun.
Life Lesson: If the world sings, peace will come to the world.
I posted a comment on Libby's blog this week.
When the world sings, the audience sits in awe, knowing no sound more beautiful. Then the world will finally be at peace.
Unfortunately, some people don't want to sing. People seem to think that singing would make them die. They think that the whole world will laugh at them because they supposedly 'can't' sing. Everyone can sing.
People think that when they sing, people will put them down and say things like 'What was that?'. Some people will actually say that but those are really stupid inconsiderate people. Most people who hear someone sing want them to do well.
So the problem lies in making people sing. Even in churches people don't always sing. I find it extremely difficult not to sing, but that's just me. And a lot of other people. In churches I can kind of understand if the pitch isn't right but then you could sing off key and have a great time anyway.
When I lived in Holland, I used to on Christmas go to midnight mass. The only real reason I went there was because I could sing Christmas carols with my dad in whatever other language there was of that particular carol. Very fun singing O come All Ye faithful in Latin. Yet another fun thing about singing.
If you're worried about not sounding very good then live with it and continue to sing. Or you can go to a singing teacher and have fun there. Or join a choir. It is the best way to meet new people and becoming a better singer in general.
Overall, I think singing is the best thing ever. Everyone should sing, not because they have to, but because it's fun.
Life Lesson: If the world sings, peace will come to the world.
I posted a comment on Libby's blog this week.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
H is for Home
Imagine you were born in one country, moved to another country half a year later, stayed there for eight years, moved back to the country you were born but in an entirely different place in that country, stayed there for two years, then moved across the Ocean and have been there ever since. Where is home then?
I have dual nationality. Which means that I have two passports. A Dutch one and an American one. I lived in the Netherlands for eight years and my dad is Dutch so it makes sense that I have a Dutch passport. And yet, I have never lived in the U.S. and I still have and American passport because my mom is American. I was also born in England. So where is home? Holland? Or the U.S? Or maybe even England. And now, What about Canada? Questions Attack my head like mosquitoes attack me. Where is Home?
To many people, home is where you live. In your house. To many other people, home is which country you were born or the place of your passport. And then other people say that home is where you spend the most time. Some really weird indecisive people say that they are simply from the planet Earth and are happy not to live in another solar system. So who is right? Where is Home?
Maybe home is everywhere. Like the really weird indecisive people said. Quite frankly that description describes me perfectly.
Every place I've been to seems like home. When I was little I used to sit by the raspberry patch and stuff my face with them. In Holland, I biked everywhere and played with my neighbours every day. In England I spent six days of the week with my best friend Freddie. In Canada I have a bunch of really good friends that I laugh with and have a good time. In the U.S I have friends and a really awesome hygienist and my grandparents. Where I've spent pretty much every summer since I was born.
I think that's maybe why I want to be a circumnavigator. So that my list of where home is can become even bigger than it already is. So I think that home is where ever you think it is. And for me, It's everywhere.
Life Lesson: Home is where you say it is.
I commented on Saski's blog this week.
I have dual nationality. Which means that I have two passports. A Dutch one and an American one. I lived in the Netherlands for eight years and my dad is Dutch so it makes sense that I have a Dutch passport. And yet, I have never lived in the U.S. and I still have and American passport because my mom is American. I was also born in England. So where is home? Holland? Or the U.S? Or maybe even England. And now, What about Canada? Questions Attack my head like mosquitoes attack me. Where is Home?
To many people, home is where you live. In your house. To many other people, home is which country you were born or the place of your passport. And then other people say that home is where you spend the most time. Some really weird indecisive people say that they are simply from the planet Earth and are happy not to live in another solar system. So who is right? Where is Home?
Maybe home is everywhere. Like the really weird indecisive people said. Quite frankly that description describes me perfectly.
Every place I've been to seems like home. When I was little I used to sit by the raspberry patch and stuff my face with them. In Holland, I biked everywhere and played with my neighbours every day. In England I spent six days of the week with my best friend Freddie. In Canada I have a bunch of really good friends that I laugh with and have a good time. In the U.S I have friends and a really awesome hygienist and my grandparents. Where I've spent pretty much every summer since I was born.
I think that's maybe why I want to be a circumnavigator. So that my list of where home is can become even bigger than it already is. So I think that home is where ever you think it is. And for me, It's everywhere.
Life Lesson: Home is where you say it is.
I commented on Saski's blog this week.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
W is for Writing
It might be strange to think about people writing down somone's every move but people do. The people being written about are not always real, but it still happens nonetheless. That's what writing is all about. It's what gives language arts teachers something to do, something to test people on. Such a lovely thing this concept of writing is, is it not?
When I'm bored, I write (and play the piano). Writing about people gives me such a feeling of empathy with my characters that I feel as though they're one of my best friends. Sometimes horrrible things happen to my characters, sometimes they experience moments of bliss and perfection. It depends on what mood I'm in.
Whenever someone writes something, someone reads it. Reading is such a great way to extend your knowledge of the world in so many ways. When people read, they sit there spilling out all their emotions, while some people simply sit there with a stern expression on their faces, all the emotions growing inside them untill suddenly they explode and all the emotions are all spilling out nonstop. It's muc easier to gradually let out all the emotions then to explode. It's much healthier that way.
My favourite type of writing is script writing. when you write a script, you don't have to worry about describing people so much as worrying about what they're saying and how they say it. Imagining what people's lives can do. Impossible feats accomplished only by one the one person whom you have created. These impossible feats can become reality for as far anyone knows, and somehow, somewhere, someone might achieve it. By making scripts, People can make their visions come alive. When grow up, I want to be a director. It would give me great pleasure.
The world needs more colour. Especially Toronto. All these greys and browns everywhere can't ever give anyone any enjoyment can they? When people write, the world becomes a world full of possibilities and emotions, of strength and hope and joy and love and a bunch of other things. People need inspiration, a way to get out of this horrible bleak world, visit paradise, come back to this horrible bleak world, and change it to what paradise was. Now the world is a colourful and joyful place where people want to be in it. Give people that chance and write your hearts desire.
Life Lesson: Writers are the painters of the world.
I posted a comment on Chloe's post this week.
When I'm bored, I write (and play the piano). Writing about people gives me such a feeling of empathy with my characters that I feel as though they're one of my best friends. Sometimes horrrible things happen to my characters, sometimes they experience moments of bliss and perfection. It depends on what mood I'm in.
Whenever someone writes something, someone reads it. Reading is such a great way to extend your knowledge of the world in so many ways. When people read, they sit there spilling out all their emotions, while some people simply sit there with a stern expression on their faces, all the emotions growing inside them untill suddenly they explode and all the emotions are all spilling out nonstop. It's muc easier to gradually let out all the emotions then to explode. It's much healthier that way.
My favourite type of writing is script writing. when you write a script, you don't have to worry about describing people so much as worrying about what they're saying and how they say it. Imagining what people's lives can do. Impossible feats accomplished only by one the one person whom you have created. These impossible feats can become reality for as far anyone knows, and somehow, somewhere, someone might achieve it. By making scripts, People can make their visions come alive. When grow up, I want to be a director. It would give me great pleasure.
The world needs more colour. Especially Toronto. All these greys and browns everywhere can't ever give anyone any enjoyment can they? When people write, the world becomes a world full of possibilities and emotions, of strength and hope and joy and love and a bunch of other things. People need inspiration, a way to get out of this horrible bleak world, visit paradise, come back to this horrible bleak world, and change it to what paradise was. Now the world is a colourful and joyful place where people want to be in it. Give people that chance and write your hearts desire.
Life Lesson: Writers are the painters of the world.
I posted a comment on Chloe's post this week.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
O is for the Olympics
The Olympics have ended. With a big finale as Sidney Crosby scored the winning goal for Canada. There were so many highlights about these games that I would like to address including Alexander Bilideau doing his amazing first jump in moguls, such an amazing feat would have been absolutely impossible for someone like me, who, in spite of my fearlessness can't jump over a little jump without falling and never trying it again, to do. Another highlight was in the men's' 1500m speed skating event when this Russian guy called Ivan Scobrev got on the ice. On the T.V. you could see what the pace line was to beat the time, if you were skating beyond that line, you would be in first place, which Ivan was. Way beyond that line in fact. He was huffing and puffing and seemed as though he was going to fall behind but he didn't. When he crossed the finish line he threw off his hood, looked up at the screen showing his time, and the most magnificent face of the whole Olympic Winter Games was visible for the world to see. It was a mixture between shock, joy and relief that melted on to his open mouthed expression. It is something I will remember for the rest of my life. Unfortunately for him, Mark Tuitert was next and got another gold for Holland (YEAH!!!), the guy that he was against (Havard Bokko) got bronze, and Shani Davis got silver. I felt sad for the Russian guy.
With all the highlights there were lowlights as well. Very sad lowlights. The whole 16 million people in the Netherlands were watching as Sven Kramer was making the Olympic record in the 5km speed skating race. I was clapping and cheering my heart out until the commentator said,
Wait, there seems to be a problem. It seems to be that Sven Kramer of The Netherlands has been disqualified for incorrect lane changing.'
That's about when my dad called from India to tell us that it was three o'clock in the morning there in India and that Sven Kramer actually did get disqualified. It was quite horrible. Imagine how Sven might feel. I can tell you, its anything but good. Oh well, it was just an Olympic gold medal right?
Another thing about the Olympics was the mistakes. I asked one of my teachers and she said that there was absolutely wrong just a few minor misshaps. In the eyes of the rest of the world however, things like a tower not rising at the opening ceremonies was an event of shame upon Canada. What was particularly interesting was that with the first race of the speed skating event, the zambonies spilled hot water everywhere and caused an hour delay. You have my teacher saying that it was great how it was fixed in only an hour, and you also have Erben Wennemars commentating on the dutch radio saying how shameful it must be for Canada to be in this position and a bunch of other stuff. Nationalism, something I will never understand.
I do think though that this was a wonderful Olympics that was very exciting to watch and I enjoyed it very much. Especially the Norwegian men's' curling pants.
Life Lesson: The Olympics only come four times a year. Don't mess up.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
G is for Gravel Pit
West Montrose, the little village with a population too small to put on Wikipedia, has a problem. The gravel pit makers have decided that money will be spilling into their doors by building a gravel pit in the West Montrose area. As you might imagine there are quite a few problems with this proposition.
Firstly, they are planning to build this evil gravel farm right next to a Mennonite school. The school a room with a homemade ice rink and a minny baseball diamond. the children walk to school every day on the road. Imagine a beautiful Jigs Hollow road, a road with corn fields on either side, it's as if you can see the world just drop down at the end of the corn field, bulldozed and replaced by tall ugly mountains of grey rubble. Horrible loud beeping sounds coming through the wall as the teacher is yelling as loud as she can so that the children can here what she's saying. Would you like to be in that position? The worst part about it is that the gravel pit making people never even spoke to anyone living there if they were okay with it. They just wrote a letter to the council and started making their plans.
Another problem is all the tourists. Who would want to go somewhere where all you can see is a mountain of grey rubble. Where the blend of green grass and blue river and that marvellous covered bridge leaves you lift your foot off the gas pedal of your car and stare at the beauty until you finally realize that five minutes have gone by and you have to get to where you're going is gone. All gone.
It ruins everything. From the fact that the covered bridge is called the kissing bridge to the fact of those poor Mennonite students. Who would want to wake up every morning to the sound of trucks beeping as they load up the gravel from that life-takingly ugly pit. Could you please shake those dollar signs out of your eyes and listen to the cries of us West Montrosenites. We don't want our lives distorted by your bulldozers of doom so leave us in peace.
Life Lesson: Consult everyone involved before making any radical decisions.
Firstly, they are planning to build this evil gravel farm right next to a Mennonite school. The school a room with a homemade ice rink and a minny baseball diamond. the children walk to school every day on the road. Imagine a beautiful Jigs Hollow road, a road with corn fields on either side, it's as if you can see the world just drop down at the end of the corn field, bulldozed and replaced by tall ugly mountains of grey rubble. Horrible loud beeping sounds coming through the wall as the teacher is yelling as loud as she can so that the children can here what she's saying. Would you like to be in that position? The worst part about it is that the gravel pit making people never even spoke to anyone living there if they were okay with it. They just wrote a letter to the council and started making their plans.
Another problem is all the tourists. Who would want to go somewhere where all you can see is a mountain of grey rubble. Where the blend of green grass and blue river and that marvellous covered bridge leaves you lift your foot off the gas pedal of your car and stare at the beauty until you finally realize that five minutes have gone by and you have to get to where you're going is gone. All gone.
It ruins everything. From the fact that the covered bridge is called the kissing bridge to the fact of those poor Mennonite students. Who would want to wake up every morning to the sound of trucks beeping as they load up the gravel from that life-takingly ugly pit. Could you please shake those dollar signs out of your eyes and listen to the cries of us West Montrosenites. We don't want our lives distorted by your bulldozers of doom so leave us in peace.
Life Lesson: Consult everyone involved before making any radical decisions.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
B is for Brushing Your Teeth
As you might have noticed while reading my blog, you might have figured out that I am a very strange child. Very strange indeed. I like things that nobody else does in this world. I even look forward to dentist appointments. You see, I haven't ever had a problem with my teeth. I also really like the hygenist who I've had for as long as I can remember.
Why would you not brush your teeth? It's such an easy thing to do and yet half of the worlds' population doesn't do it. It's the difference between having people cringe whenever your talking to close to them and people telling you to smile more often because it looks so nice.
One of the people I'm adrressing in this post is a friend of mine named Marina. She's a wonderful person and one of my best freinds, but she never brushes her teeth (she does but not very often). As a result, her teeth are constantly yellow along the top of her teeth. I've told her many times that she should brush her teeth at least once a day, instead of once every three days like she does but she just won't listen. And when she does, she says she just can't be bothered. Also as a result of not brushing her teeth, she is constantly at the dentist getting another filling.
Fillings hurt. So do drills, x-rays, and other nasty things that the dentist puts in your mouth. Brush your teeth twice a day and you will be free of nasty dentist appointments and you'll actually look forward to them. Dentists are not here in this wrold because they want to drill holes in your mouth or because they want to torture you with putting your mouth in the most uncomfertable position you can think of. They are here to help you smile without feeling embarrassed. They are your friends.
Life lesson:
Doctors are your friends when you brush your teeth twice a day.
Why would you not brush your teeth? It's such an easy thing to do and yet half of the worlds' population doesn't do it. It's the difference between having people cringe whenever your talking to close to them and people telling you to smile more often because it looks so nice.
One of the people I'm adrressing in this post is a friend of mine named Marina. She's a wonderful person and one of my best freinds, but she never brushes her teeth (she does but not very often). As a result, her teeth are constantly yellow along the top of her teeth. I've told her many times that she should brush her teeth at least once a day, instead of once every three days like she does but she just won't listen. And when she does, she says she just can't be bothered. Also as a result of not brushing her teeth, she is constantly at the dentist getting another filling.
Fillings hurt. So do drills, x-rays, and other nasty things that the dentist puts in your mouth. Brush your teeth twice a day and you will be free of nasty dentist appointments and you'll actually look forward to them. Dentists are not here in this wrold because they want to drill holes in your mouth or because they want to torture you with putting your mouth in the most uncomfertable position you can think of. They are here to help you smile without feeling embarrassed. They are your friends.
Life lesson:
Doctors are your friends when you brush your teeth twice a day.
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