Ellie's Blog

End of Camp Wrap-Up

razzberrygumball — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 12:16:41 +0000

1) What is one experience you will remember about Writers’ Camp? – The asparagus… And how everyone is so Harry Potter obsessed. I’ve never seen a more enthusiastic group. (:

2) What was your favorite part of Writers’ Camp? – Writing….? And just being able to do something. I was bored. :3

3) What would you like to have done more of at Writers’ Camp? – Write. Just everything we did….

4) What would you change about Writers’ Camp? – Make it longer. Like, extend the day, and extend how many days there were. Like a regular school day for a month. ;D

Listerene and (Un)scented Soap

razzberrygumball — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 15:43:59 +0000

Every time I go to my grandmother’s house, her upstairs bathroom always smells like Listerene and soap, but not the smelly kind of soap that smells like a flower or exotic fruit, the unscented kind people buy because they’re “sensative to smells” or whatever, but it still smells. The label lies. It smells like the soap you get in Bath and Body Works that supposedly smells like “cotton” but really smells like perfume. The Listerene smells is really the strongest scent in teh room. It flies up your nose the second you step into the bathroom and it’s kind of overpowering and freaks you out a little, but after you’re there for a week, it’s fine and you’re used to it. If our bathroom ever smells like Listerene and it freaks me out. No kidding. It’s just weird. I don’t know why though…

Saturday, when these open doors are open-ended…

razzberrygumball — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 15:07:49 +0000

Cassey sat in the car waiting for her mom who was getting food in the resturant they were parked in front of. As ususal, she was listening to her iPod too loud. She only did it so she couldn’t hear her sister’s pointless cries of, “Cassey! Cassey!” only for her to turn around and answer with a short, “What?” then her sister replying with something along the lines of, “I forgot.”

Cassey was always with her sister and mother since her dad was always on business trips. She was fighting with her friends who wouldn’t give her a break, and they didn’t care about her at this point. Her iPod song suddenly changed to Saturday by Fall Out Boy. Natalie and Cassey would scream this song in malls, parks, wherever they were on Saturdays. This song was a melancholy reminder of the bitter past, after the secrets Natalie kept from Cassey, and, in turn, the lies Cassey fed to Natalie. She was tempted to change the song to something mildly cheerier, but she realized she had to face the past the left a long time ago. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Natalie’s number, still burned into her minnd after months of not calling.

Octopus

razzberrygumball — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 15:23:27 +0000

I stepped into those halls one last time, the familiar smell of freshly sharpened pencil and B.O. coming at me from all sides like a swarm of bees. My last day of middle of school. “The year went by so fast,” I thought as I walked to my first class for the last time. Of course, I was late that day so I got my tardy slip and headed to P.E., just to find it to be practically over. I didn’t care much, because I didn’t know anyone in that class anyway, even if I have been in there a whole year. Same with second period. We watched a cute anime movie and moved on to third. All my friends were in that class. Of course, we didn’t want to stay with our weirdo math teacher, so we went to our social studies teacher’s room. It was also Mr. Gonzales’s room in the afternoons and mornings, so there were drawings of him going to Taco Bell on the board from his students. Wow, I’ve never liked this guy, but, hey, he was the one who thought I was stupid when he subbed for a class earlier in the year. So me and my friend Abby started to doodle on the drawings. We made him squirtle, super-man, a cat. We drew all over those weirdo drawings of him.

That’s when he came in the room.

He looked at us curiously as if he might laugh as I put down the marker and bowed my head in fake shame. Abby giggled nervously. He headed over to our social studies teacher’s desk and said in a very monotone voice, like always, “These girls have defiled my student’s artwork.”

Our teacher stood up andd glared at us. “Girls, I am very dissapointed in you. Erase the board now.”

Abby and I consealed our giggled and picked up white board markers.

Billy the Asparagus: An Epic Adventure!

razzberrygumball — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:37:50 +0000

So Billy was a vegetable who lived in one of those plastic bags they give you at grocery stores for produce with his brothers. He took care of them when they were sick and helped them with their math homework. He was a pretty helpful guy. He always dreamed of getting out of Refrigerator Land, but being the oldest asparagus in the whole city, he had to stay with his brothers still, but inside, Billy knew he could never give them up for anything in the world. One night, he lay awake in his cabbage bed, looking at the shelf above him. He wondered what would happen if he left. Would he be successful as an artist? What would happen to his brothers if he wasn’t around? He wished for the best, took a chance, packed his things, and left a note for his oldest brother, Jim, to take care while he was away, and thus began Billy’s great escape from Refrigerator Land.

(credit for this next part goes to xxhollywoodxx.wordpress.com … visit!)

Now, on his way out, a potato caught BIlly’s head.

“Please! I know you are escaping, let me come. People wanna make me get off the banana couch!”

“PJ, I don’t think…” Billy paused. He may need some assistance. “Oh, alright, you can follow.”

“Thank you!” said PJ.

A few days later, PJ Potato was lying on the dog bed outside the house. “Come one! We need to move! Ahh!” urged Billy as a huge brown dog started inching towards them.

“Noooo…..” PJ groaned, not seeing the rabid canine.

The dog crouched and lunged for the vegetables. Billy rolled PJ out of the way. Then the potato realized what was going on, hopped up and ran as fast as his fat, stubby legs could take him.

“You saved me!” PJ exclaimed.

The very next day, Billy got his side punctured by a fence.

“HELP!” Billy screamed.

“Geez, no.” PJ said. “I’m tired.”

Tribute to Posers.

razzberrygumball — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 16:48:30 +0000

As I write these words,

As I ruin this paper,

I feel lost in a sea of adjectives.

So many words,

So little space

To tell all of who I am.

Could anyone, really,

Tell who they were

In a few lines or verses?

To declare this to the world,

To pour out my soul to thousands,

Would tear down the foundation

Of my sturdy life:

Originality.

Forcing two or three adjectives on me

Is like allowing a tiger but two or three stripes:

Impossible.

So the next time you are asked

Who you are,

Remember my words

And respond with pride:

“Myself.”

But would you be telling the truth?

Boxes

razzberrygumball — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 15:35:42 +0000

We saunter down the halls,

smiling and passing by the people we never cared to know

but sescretly wishing to converse with them

just for a change.

But, in middle school, we are placed in a box

restricting you from the abnormal

but no one would even dare to step outside

for fear of the one authority who was never given a badge.

But we still secretly hope and wish

one day to shed the short leash we have been put on,

telling us if we associate ourselves with them,

we have to dress like that,

or talk like this,

be them.

“Be what we tell you to be,”

they say,

and we listen willingly

but we all want to step outside the box sometimes.