Bubbles by Abby (me)

It appears that today the sun will shine forever
Bathing the world in warm, bright light.
Today we have met the perfect weather,
And no matter what happens, we'll be alright.

We're two best friends who walk the earth,
No clear path has been laid.
Today we won't dare to question our worth,
Even as the afternoon light begins to fade.

Your carefree whimsy and my sensible musings
Make us appear infallible, at best.
And like that peach in the bunch that resists bruising,
We're guaranteed to rise to the top, despite what some may suggest.

And now as the sun sinks behind the bluffs, and the bubbles wander away,
No matter where life's wind will take us, the best of friends will be okay.

- Abby

Decisions, decisions.

Decision-making is one of life's greatest challenges. They alter the course of your life. Many times, there are no guides. You just have to take your best guess and go with it. If you made the wrong choice, oh well! There are no take-backs in life. The protagonist of the novella, The Old Man and the Sea, Santiago, knows this well, perhaps better than many. His choice to go fishing without Manolin the day he caught the marlin greatly affected the course of events.

First of all, because of Santiago's choice, it was impossible for him to catch more than one fish at a time. He started by catching an albacore, reserved for sustanence. However, once he hooked the marlin, Santiago had to apply all of his attention and strength to holding onto the marlin. “ ‘I wish I had the boy,’ the old man said aloud. ‘I’m being towed by a fish and I’m the towing bitt.’” (45) The fish was so mighty and powerful that Santiago needed to apply all of his attention to it. If he had let go of the marlin to reel in another fish, he would have lost his prized catch. If he had decided to bring Manolin along, he could have reeled in other fish while Santiago wrangled with the marlin. Instead, he went alone, and ending up losing the catch he worked so hard for, and any potential money he could have fetched for it.

In addition to making it impossible to catch more fish, Santiago's choice affected his life because he had to deal with the marlin, alone. For several days Santiago was towed by the monstrosity of a fish that he had hooked. It drained him of all of his strength and energy. “If the boy was here he would wet the coils of line, he thought. Yes. If the boy were here. If the boy were here.” (83) Santiago was even injured when the fishing line cut him. At this point, Santiago began to realize the magnitude of his mistake. He started to realize that this wasn’t a job that one man, let alone an older, feebler one, could easily complete. There were many things that Manolin could have done that would have helped Santiago immensely. If Manolin had been there, Santiago and him could have switched. Santiago would have had more time to rest peacefully, while the younger, stronger, more vital Manolin could have toiled with the fish for a while.

Finally, Santiago's choice to fish without Manolin made him very, very lonely. He was out at sea, in the sun, for several days. Without a friend, he had nothing to pass the time. "'It's steady,' the old man told him. "Too steady. You shouldn't be that tired after a windless night. What are birds coming to?" (54). Santiago found comfort in talking to a migrating warbler that crossed his path. The bird gave him someone to talk to. Santiago reassured himself and took his mind off of his struggles by talking to the bird. If Manolin had been there, he wouldn't have resorted to confiding and chatting with the warbler. As well as talking to the warbler, Santiago often wondered about baseball, and talked out loud about whatever was on his mind. 

In conclusion, Santiago's choice greatly affected his life. With Manolin as his aid, Santiago could have completed many more things. He could have caught more fish, and could have taken breaks. He also wouldn't have been so lonely. Hopefully, Santiago learned his lesson, and will make better choices in the future.

3rd Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

The Pact by Jodi Picoult. Harpercollins Publishers, 1998.

fiction

The Pact by Jodi Picoult, is based upon the lives of two families. Specifically, their children. These two families, the Harts and the Golds, are next door neighbors who are very close friends. The two wives even become pregnant at similar times. The children, Emily Gold and Chris Hart, are expected to become best of friends. Chris and Emily become inseparable from birth, first as best friends, then later as boyfriend and girlfriend. They are both perceived to be perfect teens who excel at what they do - Chris at swimming, and Emily at painting. They are both expected to go to fantastic colleges and have great lives. Among all of this, Emily and Chris try to navigate the uncertainty of Emily's sudden admission. She wants to die. What follows is a tangled web of love, trust, betrayal, and pain as the Golds and the Harts try to decipher what happens when the inseparable pair is divided by the death of Emily.

"The Pact is so good that we can't put it down... suspenseful, intelligently written, topical." - Detroit Free Press

The Pact does a good job of showing the reader what is often the truth when it comes to parent-teen relationships: no matter how well you might know someone, you can always know them better. As the story progresses Picoult deftly alternates between 'then' and 'now,' referring to before Emily's death and after her passing. While reading the then and then later the now, Picoult offers intriguing allusions as to what transpired in Emily and Chris's shared past that brings them to the present. At one point I was so curious that I skipped a whole 'now' part just to find out what happens during one part. 

Another thing that I like about Jodi Picoult's works is her attention to detail. In the other book I read by her, My Sister's Keeper, it was obvious that Jodi did her homework on her topic. In The Pact, it's obvious tedious research is involved when a psychologist, art therapist, and coroner are brought in to testify during the trial. I like that she researches her topics so thoroughly because it gives the story a more authentic feel.

"'It was no big deal,' Emily murmured. 

'Oh yeah?' He whispered. 'Then how come you're shaking?'

'It's nothing.' She said, shrugging, but she would not look at him. She methodically ate a burger she could no longer taste, and slowly convinced herself that she had told him the truth. (67)

I loved this book, a lot. I do like most of the books I read, that's the truth, but this book really shook me. When I started it, I was immediately drawn in by the two main characters, Emily and Chris. They seemed like every other 'poster high school college sweetheart couple' that you might read about, totally cliche, but they had flaws. The story reminded me of "Romeo and Juliet" in a way, but completely reversed. Instead of being pried apart by their families, Emily and Chris were almost forced together. Picoult brought up points about Emily's unhappiness that I would have never thought of. This book was so realistic and touching that one time during C block I almost started crying, and that is really saying something! 

Gull Island [final]

The drive to the ferry was always stifling. However, being stuck with your dad and your obnoxious older brother in the back of a taxi with your mom awkwardly conversing in the front seat with the sketchy cab driver was just about unbearable. Welcome to my life.

⋆

This was a biannual event in my family, driving for three hours in a taxi to the Bauer Docks on the coast of South Carolina. I stared vehemently at the over sized dice that swayed from the rear view mirror. The cab smelled of old pizza and sweat, and my brother was getting dangerously close to my face with his greasy, salt-covered fingers.

"Want some french fries, Ollie?" Damek waggled his digits in my face. In his lap, a Styrofoam container of french fries sat, invitingly.

"No thanks, Damek." I rolled my eyes, and turned up the sound on my ipod. I just wanted this part to be over. All I wanted to do was see my friends. I missed them a lot. It had been two years, in other words, way too long.

On the island, my cousins and I hung out with some of the other native teenagers. Their names were Riza, alex, Stacy, Brett, Darcy, Keith, Tia, Quinn, Alicia, Felicity, Patrick, Tony, and Zach. I blushed immediately at the thought of Zach. Last summer, I had developed a little 'thing' for him. I don't quite remember how, but word spread with the group, and for most of the summer I was constantly followed by kissy faces and giggles. It really did a number on my already low self esteem. On top of that, Zach did not reciprocate my affection, leaving me high and dry on the love boat.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on the fingerprint smeared window. I envisioned us all stepping out of the taxi, bags in hand, headed for the ferry. I tried to fall asleep to try and fast forward to the arrival at our destination, but Damek and my father, Daniel, were arguing next to me.

"No, dad, I'm not working at the Shack this year, okay! It's my last summer before college, I want to have a fun time, not spend all of my time working for Uncle Tim!"

"That's irresponsible, Damek, besides, how do you think you'll be paying for college?"

This went on and on. My mom was totally oblivious to it all, or ignored it. I wasn't too sure which. I tried to readjust my position, but my thighs were sticking to the pleather, and no matter now I curled up, it was uncomfortable.

⋆

After what seemed like hours, we had finally arrived. I practically jumped out of the taxi as it parked in the lot next to the docks. My mom paid the man and grabbed my bags.

"Come along, Olexa, the ferry is leaving soon." She chided, scurrying towards the ticket station. My dad and Damek struggled to keep up.

"There should be four tickets under Nenad." Mom, Carla, informed the man at the counter.

"First names?"

"Carla, Daniel, Olexa, and Damek." At the mention of the last two names, the man's eyebrows rose. We were often asked by many a curious passerby if my brother and I were adopted. No, we were not. Our parents were just very, uh, proud of our Balkan heritage. So much so that they couldn't stand to give their offspring normal, Americanized first names.

The man handed my mother our tickets and we boarded the ferry.

⋆

It took about half an hour to arrive at our destination, Gull Island. It was the residence of my Aunt Ruthie and Uncle Tim, and my cousins, Isaiah, 16, Eleanor, 15 (my age) and Jacob, 19 (a year older than my brother.) Uncle Tim and Aunt Ruthie owned and operated the Gull Shack, a popular spot for tourists and natives alike. Every other year we came to live with them for the summer, enjoying the beach and working at the shack.

As soon as I stepped off the boat, I was greeted by Eleanor.

"Ellie!" I squealed, dropping my bags. We hugged and jumped up and down for about 3 minutes.

"How have you been?!" She asked shrilly, looking at me. We both changed a lot in two years. She only got prettier, and I was starting to come into my own myself. I had grown into my previously awkward, gangly frame, and my braces were a thing of the past.

"Great. How about you?"

She giggled. "Oh, I have so much to tell you."

When we were younger, the first night was family night. Now was different. We had a gaggle of friends on the island, and the first night was reserved for 'adult catch up' and 'child bonfire.' The bonfire took place in Ellie's backyard, which was a long strip of beach. We took all afternoon to set up, and by the time the sun began to disappear behind the cliffs, people came from every which direction on bikes. Tiki torches blazed and paper lanterns were strung in the gazebo adjacent to the house. Further out onto the sand, a fire had been coaxed out of a tepee of scrap wood and kindling.

I sat with Ellie on a large piece of drift wood, one of six encircling the bonfire.

"So, you know," Ellie said slyly, drawing a picture in the sand with her big toe. "Zach's coming."

I rolled my eyes. Had I really expected her to forget? Didn't she understand that nobody really thought of me back then as more than friend material? At thirteen, I was lanky and had big feet and big ears, with bad teeth and other typical features of preteen-dom. I sighed heavily.

"Please, Ellie. That's in the past. Obviously we're just friends. I'm over it." She shook her head.

"Don't be so sure. He seemed excited when I told him about the bonfire."

"Yeah, him and every other friend we have on this darned island."

She laughed, watching ashes rise into the sky. "Touche."

We continued to talk when the first group arrived.

⋆

"Oh my God! OLLIE!" I turned, instantly recognizing the voice of Riza. She was accompanied by her sister, Mina, and her brother, Alex. Mina acknowledged me quickly before taking off to find Damek. They had a steady relationship going since I was probably 11. They met when they were both only 14, and ever since then they picked up right where they left off when we stepped foot back on the island. Alex was 13, and came to join us along with Riza, who was our age.

We chatted and soon other groups leaked in. Jason, Yvonne, Greta, Beth, and Adam, who were all Damek's age, arrived next, followed by Stacy, Brett, Darcy, Keith, and Tia, all between the ages 14 and 16. I was delighted to see many familiar faces, but I found in spite of myself that I was waiting for one face in particular. I knew that Ellie wouldn't have the smallest inkling, but I blushed anyway.

⋆

"Hey, hey!" The booming voice of Quinn diverted our attention. I got up to greet him and the group he came with, Alicia, Felicity, Patrick, Tony, and finally, Zach. I hugged them all, inhaling the nostalgic scent of Felicity's perfume of choice, Ralph Lauren Wild, and Patrick's scent of cut grass. That had been his summer job since he was old enough to work a lawn mower. Over his shoulder, I found myself stealing a furtive glance at Zach. He was tan and tall, just like I remembered. He had dark brown, almost black hair that fell just below his ears. Same dark green eyes, same pretty smile. I was blushing again. He was a semblance of the same boy I left on the island. Pat let me go and I walked over to Zach.

Act cool, I reassured myself. He's just another friend. You treat him the same as everyone else.

"Hey Zach, how have you been?" I asked, without hesitation. I hugged him, and despite what I had confided to Ellie earlier, I still those familiar sparks.

"I've been great, how about you?" He replied, holding me at arm's length now.

"Oh, you know." I said in an effort to be nonchalant. We both walked over to the bonfire, and i took a seat between him and Riza.

⋆

We all caught up over marshmallows, hot dogs, and soda. I never laugh as much as I do when I'm at Gull Island.

"I remember," Felicity giggled, "That last summer, Damek was obsessed with baseball."

"Oh," I snorted. "Trust me, that didn't last long. He decided to stick with tennis."

We all laughed.

"Yeah!" Tony piped in. "And he used waaaay too much hair gel. I don't know how Mina dealt with it."

I laughed again.

"Oh, but what about you, Ollie!" Darcy exclaimed, gesturing at me. "You used to be so lanky, no offense."

"None taken." I shook my head.

"Yeah, remember I called you Giraffe?" Pat leaned over Riza to punch my arm.

"I see you also ditched the braces, Dumbo." Brett joked kindheartedly.

"Yes, yes I did, Pinoccio." I smirked at him. Everyone burst out laughing. I was not the only one who was the butt of jokes two summers ago.

"What do you think, Zach?" Tia raised an eyebrow. "Ollie's really pretty now, isn't she?" I gritted my teeth. Remind me later to throw a big clump of seaweed at Tia, I thought to myself. I rolled my eyes and shrugged off her petulance.

I was taken off-guard when Zach cast an arm around me.

"I don't know who you guys are talking about, but I always thought she was pretty."

Suddenly, my cheeks grew warm, above the heat radiating from the bonfire.

"Thanks Zach, I always thought you weren't half bad yourself." He laughed, and his arm fell to his side. As we all continued to chat and reminisce, his hand found mine, and it stayed there the rest of the night.

I knew it was going to be a good summer.

⋆

2nd Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

Skin Deep by E.M. Crane. Delacorte Press, 2008.

genre: fiction

Andrea Anderson is a sophmore at her high school. Her life is painfully boring: she is plain, quiet, and uninteresting. Or at least, that's how she perceives herself. She goes about her life without much fuss or excitement, until a tragedy rattles her school. It forces her to think about different aspects of her life and to reexamine her classmates. On top of this, her mom volunteers her to take care of her neighbor's dog while she is ill. These two events, combined with her new perspective on life, help her to grow and accept parts of her life that she can't change.

Reading from the book jacket, "If all the world's a stage, Andrea Anderson is sitting in the audience. High school has its predictable heroes, heroines, villains, and plotlines, and Andrea has no problem guessing how each drama will turn out."

E.M. Crane gives Andrea Anderson a very realistic voice in the book Skin Deep. Her thoughts are very authentic and believable. While reading this book, I could invision one of my friends saying a lot of the things she thinks. She has a very original way of describing situations. E.M. Crane's phrases in the book often got stuck in my head after I finished reading.

"Sometimes, when I lie in bed, I contemplate how much more content with my life I've become.

I'm satisfied with the events of a certain day, like the road trip with Honora and the day Ashley nearly backed her mom-i-van into the ditch at the end of my driveway." (195)

I really liked this book. At first, I was kind of skeptical, because it seemed like another one of those stories about the proverbial "girl in the corner who learns to love herself," like a lot of other books on the shelves. This book did include that, but made it much more interesting with a unique cast of characters and a very thought provoking plot. I really liked the plot, because you don't normally hear about the conflict with the teacher, but I'm sure it has happened. It really made for a good opportunity to show another side of the characters you get to know in the beginning of the book. While you read, you learn more about the people along with Andrea. 

shin guards and headphones.

What is most important to you in life? Think about it for a minute. Have a picture in your head? Now, could you put a price on it? Is it a moment in time? Is it a memory? Maybe it's something you could hold in the palm of your hand, like a ring. Maybe it's a person, or an animal. A lot of things in my life are important enough worth mentioning, but there are a few things that are unique in my head. My excitement is becoming really unbearable. In an effort to release some of my nervous energy, my fingers drum impatiently against the handle on the door. The Camry carries us down the long stretch of yellow plains. The barns pass, blurs in my peripheral vision. I'm not looking at anything right now. I see the windshield, my sock feet, and my bag on the floor, but I don't see these things. I hear the sound of tires on pavement, but I don't hear that either. I do hear the loud bass blasting through my ear buds, and the White Stripes screaming at me behind a commanding, harsh beat. What I really see is the arena, the practice area, and my teammates. I see the bleachers, and I see the snack bar. I envision the 'arcade' and the bench. Then, I see the actual game. I see myself and my teammates flying by the competition, passing, shooting, and trapping like pros. I see the scoreboard, saying 5 - 0, and I hear the buzzer. We've won the game before it has even started. The water under the bridge and the setting sun, blazing orange, bring me back to reality. I unzip my bag in a flurry, the arena quickly coming into view. My last knot on my cleats is tied by the time my mom pulls up to the door. I grab my bag and my water and fling open the door. I close it just in time for my mom to finish a 'good luck' before I run to the entrance. It's brisk outside, late November, and it's already nearing sunset. Not that you can tell inside the arena, the fluorescent lights don't show time. Inside, I smile as I see my teammates, watching the game before ours through narrowed eyes. I join them, and we chat excitedly about our season. The coca cola clock mounted high up on the cement wall tells me we still have 20 minutes to wait before we start. I sigh, my insides doing back flips. I've gone through this a million times before, but it's always the same. I hate, and love, the beginning of indoor soccer games. I walk down the hill tentatively; it's stupid for me to walk down here barefoot. However, it's summer, and I don't really care about being rational or thinking conservatively. If I want to walk around barefoot, I won't be the one to stop me! I pick carefully about the fallen logs and questionable items on the ground, the last thing I want on the soles of my feet are disgusting spiders. Satisfied with walking around for a while, I amble back onto the lawn and lay down in the long, green grass. My headphones snake up from my fist to my ears. I listen mindlessly as I take in the scene around me. Some birds in the oaks above follow each other, twittering loudly. Feet away, a squirrel gives me a once over before bounding up the nearest tree trunk, insulted and annoyed. My ipod accentuates this already pristine summer scene. It's as green as the grass I'm laying in and tough as nails. I've dropped it countless times, and it's still here, a reminder of what I like best. If you looked at my ipod, you might be a little confused. My music taste is as varied as the rainbow. alternative, indie, electronica, rap, pop, whatever. I probably listen to bands from most genres you could name. I received it for Christmas two years ago, and it's with me almost anywhere. Any car ride is an excuse to listen to the Shiny Toy Guns or Dashboard Confessional. However, if I'm headed in the direction of a soccer game or practice, it's probably rap. Whatever I'm listening to, I couldn't without my beloved ipod! My ipod and my pre-game memories are both really important to me. Soccer is really important to me because it is my favorite sport. It's all I play, and I place a lot of focus on it in my life. when I have a game, the moments before it are some of the most important, and I almost feel like it affects how I will perform in the actual game. My ipod is also very important to me. It holds all of my music, which is what inspires me, makes me happy, and most of the time, saves me from boredom. My pre-game experience would also be different without my ipod to listen to. If I had to choose, I'd have to get back to you, because these two things are things I wouldn't easily give up.