Unique: Graf #4

         I still have all of my original baby blankets except for one. When I was little I carried my favorite blanket around with me. It had tons of holes in it and had a small hard circle on it from some drink that I spilt on it that never came out. I called it blankie and one day left it at a store and never saw it again. I was so devestated that my Nana, who made the original blankie, knit me a new one, holes and all. I still have it and bring it with me whenever I go on long trips away from home. I still have the very first Beanie Baby I ever bought as well. The name on the tag was Rufus, but I couldn't pronounce it so I named him Ruffles. I brought him everywhere with me, one day I dropped him out of my bag in the snow at school and couldn't find him. My mom had bought another Rufus as a back up, but it didn't compare. Ruffles had matted hair and was faded and meant the world to me. One day when my mom dropped me off at school she saw ruffles by the side of the road, it was a miracle, he was intact and fine, just soggy and dirty. She took him home, washed him, and had him waiting for me when I came home that day. A few years later I was looking for him in the morning while I was getting ready for school and found him underneath the futon, limbs torn off and beads everywhere. I screamed as though someone was stabbing me with a rusty knife and scooped him up then ran into the bathroom where my mom was taking a shower. She sent me to school and somehow managed to get every bead she could find back into him and sew his limbs back on. One of his legs now splits off to the side, and and ear flops freely away from his head because the stitch that had kept it attached to the head in a second spot was ripped. I think that most people would have thrown these things away, not have stayed attached to them like me because they were different from the original. I don't think I'll ever be able to throw blankie and ruffles away, they've become more than just objects from my childhood, they are parts of me. I'm unique because I don't grow attached to pictures, for me they don't hold enough of the memory. I get attached to objects because when I hold it or touch it, I can  remember every time I've ever had with or around it. It's more than just, oh this was a blanket that my Nana knit me to replace one I lost, or oh this is just a nasty old beanie baby that I bought with my own money. It's this is a blanket that reminds me of one I had from when I was a baby to when I was about 5, it brings back memories from before I got it, to after, and it shows how much I mean to my Nana when she was willing to knit me a whole new blanket, same colors, same holes, same everything but the hard cirlce stain. This is a cute yet deformed beanie baby that I named with a name from my head, it was the very first thing I ever bought with my own money. It helped me get though my fear of the dark and my fear of school. Theses are things that I love like they are family members, things that I always have to know where they are. I will never give them away, not even to my own kids.

Inventory: Graph #3

• Two candels, never lit, one blue, one cream, both shimmery
• A random doll stand w/out the doll
• A stack of paper covers to some DVD cases, pictures, cd pamphlits
• A condensed air can, the kind you use to clean a keyboard or something
• A DISH channel guide
• A DVD player
• 31 DVDs precariously stacked in two piles on top of the DVD player in no order
• A random VHS case on top of the DVD player between the 2 candels, in front of the DVDs
• A 1ft and 1/4 of a ft by 1ft and 1/2 of a ft TV (about) with a built in VCR and pictures of musica artists, cut out of magazines taped onto the front by the screen
• A chord connectiong the DVD player to the TV
• All of these things sit upon a tall white dresser that has 4 drawers, some Lelo and Stitch stickers, and a few missing handels
• A violin, in it's case, leaning against the dresser
• An acoustic guitar, in it's case leaning against the violin case

          Wow, this girl is disorganized, she has no sense of organization at all. The DVDs have no order, how does she get one out of the stack without knocking them all over? At least she likes movies though, apparenty in any form since she still has a TV with a VCR in it, and a VHS tape case. Who uses VHS's anymore? Can you even buy a VCR at all? Do they still sell those duel VCR and DVD players? She;s diverse though, she has 7 disney movies, some dramas, like Flags of Our Fathers, Fly Boys, and West Side Story, there's a  bunch of comedies, she must like to laugh, but she must also be intrigued by the imaginary, she has The Covenant, all the availible Harry Potter and Twilight series movies. No horror, amybe she has a weak stomach?
           She doesn't have a problem with the old, it's obvious she's had that dresser for a long time, at least 10 years. She must like music, she has a stack of the pamphlits from inside the CD covers, and magazine pictures of artists, Jesse McCartney and Joel Madden. As well as the violin and guitar. Again you can see she's diverse, she likes a pop star, and a rock band, and a classical music instrument and a guitar.
             She must like to watch TV, she has the channel guide right next to the TV, it's very worn, the plastic covering is peeling away from the paper. The buttons on the TV are worn, there's dust on top of the TV, it must not get moved. She likes to keep reminders of her past, most people have their pictures in an ablum, or scrapbook, or a box, but she's left some out in the open. The condensed air can must be used for either the VCR or DVD player, why else would it be left there when there are other places, shelves and desks, in the room that she could have left it.
             The candels are random, but they don't really look out of place. They're placed on top of the DVD player, one on each side, in front of the DVDs. They've never been lit though, maybe she thinks they're too pretty. The doll stand is the only thing out of place, maybe she's just lazy and hasn't felt like putting it back. Maybe she's lost the doll and is looking for it.

Worst Teacher: Graf #2

          I've done all the work, I've studied for every test, I've written every essay to the best of my ability. I'm not a genius, I don't expect to be referred to as such. I don't want to be passed out of sympathy, but I don't want to be compared to anyone as well. You look at us all, appreciation filling your eyes for all the athletes, relief for those who understand everything. Your expression goes blank, 'why doesn't she understand this, why doesn't she do better.' I put all of my effort into everything I do, I spend hours studying, reading, writing. All I want, all I need is help, to you I should get this stuff on my own, I should just listen, remeber, and pour it all out on the test. I've come for help and all I get are lectures, all you do is talk and talk. I don't have the memory of an elephant, I can't remeber everything. I struggle to balance my work load, you don't seem to understand that I'm drowning under all the pressure, I'm fighting just to get a C+ in any class. I spend every studyhall reading the books, going over every note. I can't do better than this without help, I don't understand why you can't comprehend this.

Hands: Graf #1

My hands are always dry now because I do ceramics and I always have to wash to tools and wheels I use, I'm artistic and I love art even though I'm not the best. You don't have to be amazing at art to love it, you just have to be willing to admit that you aren't the best. My fingernails are jagged and short, I'm always biting them when they get a weak spot. There's no room for the weak in the world, you have to be willing to go after what you want and be a shark in the world now. My class ring is always on my right ring finger, I never take it off unless I'm working on a pottery wheel, even then it goes in my pocket. I hate my high school,  I don't fit in and I don't have a lot of friends. My class ring reminds me that I'm making it though, it's proof that I worked through everything and stayed until the end. I have a perminant calous on my right middle finger because I'm always writing something. I prefer to write with pen and pencil, no matter how long the piece is, it makes me feel as though I'm connected to what I'm writing, like it's real, I'm actually writing this piece, it's original, it's mine, it's me. There's a small cut on my left hand by my pinky, I have 3 cats and they like to play rough. Or maybe it's from one day when I had to get a binder or something from inside of my locker and I had too many things shoved inside it. I'm disorganized and I would rather just throw everything into my locker instead of actually spending 5 minutes or so rearranging everything. In the light you can see every line on the inside of my hands, there are curls on my palm and swirls on my fingertips. My hands are pale, I never tan, when I go out into the sun in the summer I go from white to red, even with sunscreen. My origins are Eastern European, Scottish, Irish, and German to be exact. My fingernails are bare, I should really paint them again,but I'm too lazy to. My right pinky tilts away from my other fingers, when I curl my fingers in you can see the veins in  the back of my hand. There's a crease under my fingernails on the back of my hands, on every finger but my thumbs. You can still see a small indent in my right thumb, right underneath my fingernail, in the right light from where my sister's rabbit bit me, and drew blood.Oh, there's a small white spot underneath my left pinky and middle finger nails, and my right pointer finger nail, calcium deficiency is what I think it means, that's odd, I drink at least a glass of milk every day, and I love cheese. My finger tips are sort of tough from learning how to play piano, guiter, and messing around with the violin. I love music, I'm not the best at playing instruments, I used to play trumpet in my middle school band until mid-eighth grade. My hands do so much, they typed this whole blog, they changed the song on my ipod thousands of times today. They push my glasses back up my nose and clasped eachother tightly when I got my left ear pierced. They've held at least 10 little children, they've slapped people across the face, and they've sent millions of text messages, not all of them nice. They've wiped away millions of tears and felt so many things, my hands are like two scrapbooks filled with 17 years of memories.

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