This is so EXCITING!!

So here it is! My fiction story! The title should be in Braille, but it won't work. Tell me if you want a full copy!



Maddie Whitten
Ellie dreams in colors and sounds every night. A car horn is always with a red burst of sparks; her mother’s voice is a soft cream-colored swirl. Water splashing is a bright green circle, even though she knows water was blue. Well, she doesn’t know exactly what water looks like, all Ellie remembers from her childhood is colors. But right now, Ellie isn’t supposed to be dreaming. She should be paying attention to The Group meeting, which is a therapy group for people like Ellie that is the absolute lowest point in her week. The only redeeming quality about The Group is there is free food every week.
“And that’s why I live every day in regret. What if I was just a minute sooner? What if those stupid calls didn’t distract me?” sobs Paul.
Ellie hears this every single Thursday, except when Paul is out of town. Paul Turtleman is a 45-year-old man, with nothing to do except sit at home or go to The Group once a week. Ellie is kind to him, but she’s the only one. He says the same thing, over and over and over and over and over again. He lists off his regrets, one by one, and then he cries without fail.
But then there’s Eden Burts, who is just as bad as Paul. She has a raspy voice, Ellie pictures a burnt orange pointy shape, that scrapes at her subconcious. She has no empathy for anyone, and doesn’t put up with Paul’s blubbering.
“Paul,” she said. “You have got to let that go. You make me want to be sick, with all your talk of ‘Oh I wish I did this differently’ and ‘Oh I wish I could see so-and-so one last time!’ It’s disgusting. Stop it. I tell you this every week and nothing changes.”
Paul can’t help it, and starts to cry again. Ellie hears Paul grab the box of tissues and his footsteps getting more and more faint. Paul spends a lot of time in that hall, the main hallway of Timber Ivy High School. Ellie goes there to school, but hates it. Ellie is the only one who has ever noticed that TIHS spelled backwards is…well…not good. That’s exactly how she feels about the school though. She is restrained immensely in her education, not everything is written in Braille. The school doesn’t have enough reading material ready for Ellie, so they have to special order it for her.
That’s what they get though. They should let me read, like normal kids. I’m normal. I should have whatever they have. Feeling a little bit rebellious, Ellie pulls out her latest book, The Catcher and the Rye.
“Ellie! That had better not be a book I see! I mean, uh, that better not be what I think it is! Just put it away now! It’s your turn to speak anyway.” Apparently, Mrs. Norburry wasn’t supposed to say anything about how she can see and her students can’t. It would stress out the members of The Group, or so Ellie had heard.
Mrs. Norburry sounds like fuchsia waves, rolling around. Sometimes storms came to interrupt the vision, like right now. Barbara Norburry was all about the mushy feelings, the ones that Ellie hated the most. Barbara encourages nostalgia and affection, and the more sentimental the better. Ellie believes she’s a hippie.
“Actually, no. My nephew is in town, and is coming to The Group today. He is excited to meet you all! Especially you, Ellie! He’s 16, too! His name is Jon Callaway.” Ellie heard her clap daintily and giggle, making her feel uncomfortable. Ever since she was little, emotions or physical touching made Ellie feel just awkward. Ellie suspects it’s for self-protection, or because it always seems fake. She received tons of hugs since she went blind, and they were all just for the sake of hugging. And now, she still hates the mention of new people that may pose the risk of closeness.
Without another word, Ellie feels her way up out of her chair, using her hands to guide her around the wall and out to the spacious hallway. Her steps echo against the metal lockers, and she could hear Mrs. Norburry’s faint yells. Nugget, Ellie’s dog, weaves in and out of her legs, whining a bit. He guides her to the bathroom and waits outside. Ellie paces through the girls’ bathroom, since she knows it by heart. This is her favorite place to hide during school, and no one ever bothers her. After a couple of minutes, she stops in front of a mirror, facing towards it. She tries to imagine what she looks like; though she never will find out for herself. It tortures her everyday knowing that fact. Her parents say her wavy black hair falls in front of both her eyes, since she doesn’t care. It’s better that way. Ellie doesn’t have completely white eyes, but they still scare people. Her parents say Ellie is very pretty, but she doesn’t believe them. Parents have to say that, it’s an unwritten rule. I bet I’m really ugly, just no one will tell me. Not that I care. Not that anyone cares.
Ellie paces out of the bathroom, and turns left when she hits the bump in the linoleum flooring. Then she feels something strange on her arm, something warm and soft. “Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there. Hey, are you in my aunt’s group? I was just walking down there and I’m a little lost,” it says.
This has to be Jon! Huh. While he talks, Ellie imagines a dark maroon that pours from a great height and seeps into everything, melting the bottom of her mind. “Oh hi, You’re fine. I’m Ellie. Yeah, its room 230, do you want me go with you?” Ellie says quietly. She tries to stick her arm out for a handshake, but ends up stabbing him in the chest. He backs up, brings her hand down, and shakes it slowly. Not letting go of her hand completely, he turns and starts walking down the hall.
“Please, I might as well be blind. I have no idea what I’m doing…” Then Jon realizes what just came out of his mouth. When he turns around to apologize, Ellie wasn’t there. She was already stalking around the corner, into classroom 230. Secretly through, Jon’s callous comment doesn’t bother Ellie; she really thinks it’s cute. Not that Ellie would say that to Jon though.
By the time Jon sat down in the room, only Ellie and Mrs. Norburry were left. Paul had locked himself in a locker in shame, and Eden was picked up by her boyfriend five minutes ago. Great. Well, I’m an idiot. I hope she forgives me. Jon looks down and doesn’t speak for the rest of the meeting. Mrs. Norburry is talking about how blind people are equal to everyone else. That’s what Ellie hates about The Group, how whatever the lesson is, Norburry makes it seem like she isn’t normal, like she shouldn’t be alive. Maybe Ellie shouldn’t be alive; after all, that’s what the doctors said. That’s all Ellie heard growing up.
“Her eyes will never function properly, her case of retinis pigmentosa is too severe. There is nothing anyone in the world can do,” morosely said one doctor, who Ellie had particularly hated. He then handed her parents a pamphlet that read ‘So Your Child Is Blind?’ Inside it described a year-round school across the country just for kids that were like Ellie. “This is the best option, the one I’d recommend. You won’t see her until she’s eighteen, it’s perfect.”
Maybe the doctors are right, maybe Ellie wasn’t fit to live. She had thought about it for weeks on end, and right after The Group would be when Ellie would act. She had bought the necessary equipment, and had completed a letter written to her family. Something stopped her though, both literally and figuratively. When Jon Callaway had bumped into Ellie, giving her something she hadn’t had before: a reason to live. As Ellie walks out of the doors of Timber Ivy High School, she wants to run home, but not for the reason she had just an hour earlier. Ellie wanted to go home to dream about the sound of Jon’s voice, and feel the surge dark red flow to the corners of her mind, drowning out any harmful thoughts that could still be lingering.

...And a happy freaking New Year!

Christmas is just around the corner! Hurry up and put your gift orders in! Don't know what to get?! NO PROBLEM! We have anything under the sun in our store! Get the giant inflatable Santa, it's the hottest yard decoration for the season! We have Rudolph too, who will also feed your kids and blow your pipes and hang your Christmas lights too! COME SHOP WITH THIS US THIS YEAR!!
No.
Look, I love Christmas as much as anyone. But the commercials make me want to go kick a puppy. (*I don't normally kick puppies. I have in fact NEVER kicked a puppy. There you go PETA.*) I'm even okay with the music playing in October. The commercials really get me. You know what I'm doing for my X-mas presents? Edible Play Dough. That's right, the stuff we all ate as kids is now actually eat-able. (Edible is a very confusing word. It sounds exactly like edible. What the gecko is with this English Language???) Stores should probably realize that a lot of people can't buy nice expensive things for their friends. For example, this is the example of on average how much money I spend on friends and family.
Y= number of years I've known you
X= the amount of money I'll spend on you

½Y x 4 = X

Please know that X is in cents. Okay, that may be cut in half this year.  Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is this. Stores for one, shouldn't have Christmas going decorations going up before Halloween. We went I think the night of Halloween to get cheap candy (who doesn't) and there they were! The employees were setting up the Christmas trees! I just stared at them for a while, looking in awe at the blatant disregard for the holy-ness that is Halloween. (See what I did there? Holy AND Halloween? Christmas AND Halloween. Oh yes.)

And those commercials! Sorry Fluffy  but if this continues for another month, you're going to be getting to know the wall very well. That's all I have to say on the matter.

Love,

Maddie-kins

P.S

If you were wondering about the "what the gecko" exclamation, it's because I am not a very good typer. I actually put in what the geck, for what the heck. Then I just went with it, and I ended up with what the gecko. Not a very interesting story, I know, but I thought it deserved more exclamation.

P.P.S.

If you're reading this, vote on my poll. I measure my true followers by that poll. I'm going to make an interesting one, I promise!

Hi there, are you in my English II H class?

If you are, go here:
CLICK MEEE!!!
And, since you're already here, you should read some of my stuff. I think its pretty good and worth a read.

~Maddie

P.S.
If you're not in my class, let me explain. I have to teach a grammar rule, and I have to do a quiz. And yes, I made these cookie/brownie bar things. They are rather delicious. And its really easy...tell me if you're a winner.

From the view from your front yard, the new curtains look fabulous.

Today's question is: stalking. Is it okay? I'm not talking about literally trailing someone and stealing their mail and whatnot. No, facebook stalking is the craze nowadays. (See what I did there? I rhymed. I shouldn't be fined, my paper is lined, my drink is limed. ANYWAYS!) If you're old or don't have a facebook, here's what it is: going through a person's profile, looking at pictures, statuses, or anything they have ever put on the Internet. Basically by the end of the stalk, (if you do it right) you know everything about the person, without ever talking.
Sounds creepy when I put it that way, huh? So that's my question. Is it okay? It's not like the person will ever know. It's impossible to see who has looked at your page. You can't even see how many people were looking. It's interesting to know about other people, especially of they're a cool person. And maybe you're just curious. "Gee, what did *insert name here* do today?"
On the other side, it's just WEIRD. It's weirder the stalker is obvious out their habit/addiction, too. Scenario that's happened to me a lot:
STALKER: "What did you do this weekend?"
ME: "Well, I went to the mall with my-
STALKER: "I know. You bought a dress from Forever 21. (weird heavy breathing) I read it on facebook"
ME: "..."
And then I run away. If you are either one if these people, here's how to avoid it!
To the stalkers: STOP BEING A WEIRDO. GO MAKE SOME FRIENDS. AND STOP BREATHING HEAVILY.
To the "me"s: Stop putting such personal information on facebook, and don't add potential stalkers as friends. If you suspect a stalker, de-friend pronto.
So what do you think? Is it okay? Or is it worth the creepy-ness? Do you enjoy knowing everything about your friends? Do you not even care? I should make a poll, since you people obviously don't like th current one. (I've had over 900 views, and FIVE people vote. I'm saddened.) But I won't, I'm on my iPod. That's my dedication I guess! My hands are cramping. Anyways!

Love,
Maddie

P.S.
Pray for Abby. If you don't do the whole praying thing, it's okay. We don't judge here. Send her happy get-well-soon vibes.

SO!! Here's my non-fiction piece.

Thank you guys for the help! It took me a full day to write. That's pathetic. But you know what's more pathetic? My entire Creative Writing class had pretty much nothing to say about it. Why you ask? Well, I have no idea. Sigh. I was wondering if you guys like it?

 My Fearful Five

                        The only reason people go to Canal Street in New York City is for cheap, illegal stuff. You can get anything there, if you have the cash. The street itself is cramped and grimy, and it smells of sweat, rotten Chinese food, and fear. It’s not pretty by any means, but I went for one thing and one thing only. Cheap stuff.

            Within my first hour, I bought D&G sunglasses for ten dollars. My mom bought a scarf, a watch, and a hat for $50. The locals all said to bargain with the vendors, and wait for the big boys: the Chinese men with cell phones to their ears, asking tourists if they want handbags. I guess we had it coming; we looked so out of place, so much like idiot tourists. My mom, grandma, and me are all loud, tall and blonde, which is the opposite of the locals in New York City. We eventually had one man approach us.

            “You want handbag? Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Prada handbag,” he whispered, without looking at our faces. To an outsider, the exchange looked unsuspicious. He said, “You follow me now.” Motioning with his hand to walk up the street, we waited a bit and walked after him. He kept his distance; staying about 30 feet ahead of us.

            After two blocks of trailing the guy, we stopped in front of a store. It looked no different than other cheap shops here, with shirts that looked like they were made for five cents. We walked in, and looked like we were very interested in one particular T-shirt. I glanced outside while my mom was turning the shirt inside out, inspecting the “beautiful craftsmanship”.  The man we had followed was outside the store front, talking in Chinese on his cell phone. A couple minutes later, two more men walked into the store. They passed us in absolute silence, and my family and I stared. A white shelving unit stretched from the floor to almost the ceiling, full of bargain trinkets. Because of that, I was surprised when the two short men lifted it up and moved it to the side. I was more surprised by what was behind the shelves. It was a dark opening, crudely cut out of the wall. The cavity was an endless abyss, where nothing would ever come out once inside. I was locked in place, my mother actually had to drag me in. As we approached, all I could think was I was going to die. My final moments were going to be on that hole.

            I have to be strong, I thought to myself. I can’t let my grandma and mom see that I’m scared. But I don’t want to die! Clearly, my guardians must be terrified too. I looked over, and they were perfectly at ease. That’s impossible. This is so sketchy, I thought. Maybe they were just acting.

            As soon as the three of us were inside that musty room, the shelves were slid back in place. A bright light suddenly appeared from the single light bulb strung from the ceiling. Then I could see what the shelves were hiding: purses! There were rows of them on the walls, some stacked up in the corner, and quite a few in some cardboard boxes. I’d never seen such a concentration of handbags before. My mother and grandma started moving around, looking at the various brands of purses. The tiny space didn’t allow for much comfort.  I grabbed the nearest purse, a grey Gucci bag, and held it out to the man. He spoke very little English, so he held up numbers on his fingers to show prices.

            “Fifty for…” he motioned towards the purse in my hands. By this time, my grandma had selected her tote, and was bargaining with the man. More than once, he had shush her. My grandma would be quiet for a bit, then get worked up over something, and start yelling. It was an endless cycle. All the while, my mother took her sweet time. She ,oh so delicately, grasped the precious satchel, turned it over once, then again, and tut-tut-tutted under her breath. I sent her mind-bullets, trying to tell her that we needed to leave. She didn’t pick up on my psychic powers, and kept procrastinating. I still stood motionless, I felt like jelly. It was like a scene out of Cops. At any minute, dozens of policemen were going to burst through the wall. If that happened, I would need a new pair of pants.

            My mother’s loud voice shook me out of my nightmare. “OKAY! I think I’ll go with this one! How much?” she asked, holding out a ruffled black and white purse. The man suddenly checked his watch, and made a very terrified face. He grabbed the three purses we had picked out, and shoved them into a dark plastic sack.

            “200 dollah for all?” he asked, looking very desperate. That’s when my mom stepped in.

            “I don’t think so. I’m thinking 100 dollars for all of them. If you don’t like that…” she chuckled under her breath. I had never seen my mother look so mysterious and wicked. The man realized my mom wasn’t kidding around, and nodded his head. My mother shelled out the cash, peeling back each bill carefully. After a few Chinese words from the man, a blinding light showered us from behind. The shelves had moved, and I could see the street from there. I had the sudden need to sprint to the safety of the street. I grabbed the garbage bag full of our goods and speed walked away. When I reached the sidewalk, I breathed my first breath of fresh air. We must’ve been in the abyss for a whole five minutes- the most terrifying five minutes of my life.

Help Wanted.

I'm desperate you guys. I have to write a whole nonfiction story by Thursday. I have two ideas that I could write about, and I'll give you the pros and cons of each.

1. An extremely entertaining and funny story about my illegal frowned upon by the law activities. Its about when I went to New York a couple weeks ago, and found myself in a drug-deal-like situation, all over a purse.
PROS: Its pretty hilarious. And in my creative writing class, every story can be fitted into one or more of the following categories:

• The time they got hurt/they hurt themselves.
• The time they were in Poms or Cheer and won something. Yay. 
• The time someone in their family died.

Its not that these are bad, its just getting really old. Its really depressing too. I think my story would be more exciting, you know? Spice things up a little!
CONS: I've had a terrible past couple of days. I cried three times during school today. Then I go a C on my test. (I hate that class, just in general. I like the subject, not the class. Blah.) So I think making it really funny would be difficult right now. I need to be cheered up, desperately. I really want someone to come to my house and bring cookies and hang out. I wish people did that. I wish my parents would have some sympathy. I just don't know what to do. (That got really depressing, sorry. SORRY.)

2. A story about my experiences with bullying. Its really personal, and is still kind of happening.
PROS: That's what my teacher and class likes. They eat up the dramatic stuff. The story that everyone loved was about a girl and her anorexia. Granted, its not that bad. Its just not funny or light.
CONS: On any other day, I'd love to write the other story more. This one isn't anything I talk about. I think only my parents know the extent of it.

Help please. I have to decide basically tonight, and write tomorrow or Wednesday. If you text or call or facebook or comment on this, man, I will love you. Which one would you rather read? Which would you want me to post here, if any?

FINAL VERDICT:
People need to stop being fake in general. If you can't handle me when I'm having a terrible day, you do NOT get to talk to me when I'm normal. Someone did that today. Teachers need to stop putting 15 trick questions on their tests. Someone needs to kidnap me from my house. AND ALL OF YOU need to tell me, idea 1 or 2?

Love,
Maddie

P.S.
I love you.

Mwahaha!!

To hyped up on candy. Got approximatley 30.7 pounds of it.
Help me...
Blah.
Love,
A very sugared-up Maddie

Next week, I promise.

Today was not a god day. Ever get those times where you felt like you have no friends? And no one cares? Yeah, well, today was like that for me. Everyone was hanging out, having great times with each other. That's just great, but then all they could talk about was the fantastic time they had. I'm trying to be nice. I just wish I had that person who would care when I feel bad, instead of basking in their own glory.
Maybe that's too much to ask.
I guess that's my drama for the day. I'll have really interesting stuff either tomorrow or next week? Okay? I'm sorry. I'll get better. Maybe.

FINAL VERDICT:
I'm trying to be understanding, but sometimes I want to be the person who is sad and cries. I always end up being the one who has to be strong. Its getting really old.


With so much love it hurts,
Maddie
(Sarcasm hand raised. Just in case you missed it.)

My shortest post EVER

I am in New York City, in case I haven't told you. It's really fun, and I'll be here till Wednesday! So I need a bog post for this week, here it is. I'll have a LT of drama when I get back!!

Love,
Maddie

Puberty is the best idea since sliced bread

Hello all! So if you haven't gone through that magical time, you will. If you have, consider yourself lucky. Its nice to be able to live through it, and tell the story. Anyway, this has been brought to my attention recently, actually last night, by my 13 year old brother, named Mitchell; and my 10 year old brother, Jack. (These are actually their names. They're just that special.)
He is in that extremely awkward in-between stage of childhood and teenaged-ness. Its really funny, since he likes to punch things, and I liked to cry. A lot. I really don't know where the tears came from. Maybe I've been storing them since youth in a special place...like my legs or something...for this great time in my life. (Actually, that's a lie. That was the worst year of my life.) I've learned to just run and hide (and lock the door. Ahem.) whenever he gets mad. Mind you, he's as tall as me now. And I'm 5'10'!! Keep that in mind, because that makes the story I'm about to divulge that much more awesome. 
So last night I was at my high school's Homecoming football game. (The score was 0- 41. You could say epic fail, I won't mind.) My entire family was there, so obviously I left them to be with friends. Later, I learned something. While walking around with Jack and their little friends, Mitchell ran into some girls he knew from middle school. They were actually some really cute girls, (I'm not being weird, they are just that, "Awh, look at you. You're an adorable 12 year old.") and I guess knew Mitchell, and liked him. One of them jumped on Mitchell, giving him a giant hug. This is how I imagine the following scene:
Girl: "OMG Mitchelllllll!!!! Hiiii!!!! We're in math together, and you are just SO CUTE."
*She hugs him
Mitchell: "Ummmmm. Did you know the square root of pi is 1.772? Heh-heh."
In Mitch's mind: "Woah. How did this happen. This is really weird...but nice...and she's so pretty..."
*He hugs her back*
The guy who was walking with the girl: I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him!!!! RAWRRR!"
 And then...the best thing I've ever heard in my life happened. 

"Mitchell, we gotta go. Mom got your farting meds, its time to take them."


Can you just imagine it?? Getting your first hug with a girl, then your little brother says that!?
Oh my gosh I love my family. But that has got to be traumatizing for a 13 year old, insecure little boy. Life must suck really bad right now. He probably won't touch another girl for a couple of years now. 
So if you see him, embarrass him and give him a giant hug!!


Always,
Maddie


P.S.
If you know what the heck is wrong with Facebook, please share. I'm so confused. And by the way, I would update more. But I don't. You know why? Because no one reads! Or at least I don't see it. So if you do read this, please either subscribe or comment. (Subscribing gets you 30000 Maddie-points. Commenting gets you 749. Just saying.)

Just DIE Already! DIIIEEEE!!!

Homecoming is turning into that one hermit crab that won't die, no matter how many times you drop it. A couple weeks later, you just say to yourself, "Self, if I were you (which I am) I would just kill it. This has gone on long enough! Poor creature!" So then you do. You flush it down the toilet. Goodbyyyye immortal crustacean!
Maybe that hasn't happened to you. Probably not. (And before you call PETA on me, just know, that thing was evil. It deserved to die. And its probably still alive somewhere in the sewers, cursing me. Its going to get me one day. Anyways!) But the point is, Homecoming is getting a smidge old. It just won't go away. There are girls squealing in the halls, tackling their best friends, holding flowers. There are boys guffawing, after one of them asks a girl out.  There are public displays of undying love, and tears from lack of it. I'm stressing out about this, and I don't even care! I haven't even been asked! (This isn't a desperate plea for a date. Noooo, just a fact.) 
One thing I've noticed. There's two groups, one of guys, we'll call it A, and one of girls, called B. They mingle for a little bit. One individual from A taps one person from B on the shoulder, shoves a teddy bear in her hands. He backs off and melts into the mass. A giant gasp, and then, as if choreographed, a small jump and a scream. Its incredible. Then A and B separate, and are never seen together again. I'm sorry, what? Can you do it again? I missed it. I was watching paint dry. 


FINAL VERDICT:
Come on! Its a dance! (Actually, no one dances. People have sex with clothes on out there. WHEEE FUN!) Its better to go with friends, anyway. There's a lot less stress involved. Besides,  getting ready is a good 94% of the fun. Friends are fun. And if you are desperate for a date (Ahem...Pauren Losey) just STOP. Its really annoying, and its sad seeing you so desperate for a guy. You are putting yourself out there, just setting yourself up for failure.
Besides, its more for the upperclassmen anyway.

Love,
Maddie

P.S.
And if you ARE planning on asking someone to the dance, I have a checklist for you:
1. Don't do it. Its too late. Just wait till winter formal, or ask your special someone out on a date.
2. If you go against my advice, (Shame shame, know your name!) make the proposal meaningful. It doesn't need to be a diamond necklace, or yacht ride. And no, don't plan on landing at her house in a helicopter to ask. Make it special! Go to dinner, get her chocolates. (that's what I would want at least)
3. Matchy-matchy is stupid. You know what's classy? Black. The guy in all black is great. That way, the girl could wear virtually any color, and pictures would still look great.
4. Go with a group with other couples! Have the parents split up the meals. Go to one house for dinner, then another for dessert.
5. Never, never go with single people. When you're making out in the car or whatever, that is just awkward.
6. Don't grind. You will get kicked out, and it is disgusting.

Procrastination is the bomb.com

So here I am, sitting in Biology. Not doing anything. I'm supposed to be doing an online timeline or something, I don't really know. But they won't let me do anything. All I'm doing now is staring at this guy...
WOAH. Did you think I like him?? No, I don't. Get that out of your head right now! This guy, who I shall call Horatio (No he doesn't have red hair...or awesome sunglasses...or incredible-y cheesy lines...sigh.), who is my lovely friend's ex-boyfriend. (I'll call her Louise.) He baffles me. The two were really good friends for a long time, and then they started dating. Bad idea! That almost always turns out terribly. It did, a month or two in, they broke up. Now its just really really awkward between them. Their friendship is, to put it lightly, dead. So now Louise is trying to talk to him again. Now it comes to a full circle...that's why I am staring at him. Strange? Yes. Helpful? Hopefully.

FINAL VERDICT:
I'm sorry, Louise. If you're reading this, he is not worth your time. If he doesn't have the...ahem...cahones to talk to you like a friend? PSH. Puh-thetic. He's a pansy Louise! Horatio doesn't deserve you! And he acts like an idiot in Biology. He should take school seriously, like you. And did you see that video on Facebook? CHICKENS?! Are you kidding me? Okay, I'm going to stop now since I'm probably losing friends. So my final FINAL verdict is, Louise just let him go. Don't be stressing over him! He's really not worth it. I love you Louise!

Love,
Maddie

He follows her around like a puppy...its quite sad...(Brista Karry, this is for you!)

One day, I was bored. My sister was crying (she's four. She's actually crying right now. Weird.), my mom was talking to a friend, I was supposed t be doing homework. I wasn't though, so I just started writing! I wrote a poem about God actually. It was basically my heart and soul. I thought it was pretty good! Then I get to creative writing, and people just rip it apart! I wanted to cry. They hated it, and they didn't even know what it was about. Then, bless their hearts, two girls came to my defense. (Definitely not saying any names.) That just made my day! Anyways, enough about me. Let's talk about you people! And your feelings and problems! Whee!
You were probably just wondering about the title, huh? Well Let me tell you something. Actually, before that, I'll make a list of characters.
Anita (Boyfriend, attention, you can put whatever there haha) whose boyfriend is...
Pierre (You gotta roll the R) who is totally devoted to Anita, and whose best friend is...
Jacques (French names are just awesome) who is obviously in love with Anita!!
Do you see the triangle? I do. Its weird and awkward. Seriously, Jacques just stares at Anita, and follows Anita around, and waits for Anita at her locker...man that just sounds weird. All the while, Pierre either doesn't notice, or doesn't care. I think its the third one. Maybe he thinks nothing bad will happen? Yeah. That's going to happen. (Sarcasm hand raised)

FINAL VERDICT:
Anita just wants attention and "love" (because I'm sure that Pierre and Jacques have an all-consuming passion that is hotter than a thousand suns. (Sarcasm hand raised)); Pierre is an idiot for not thinking anything is going on between Jacques and Anita; Jacques is a home-wrecker who obviously doesn't care for Pierre. Or maybe he does and thinks Anita is THE SHIZ. Which she's not, but to each his own. I'm positive nothing good will come from this, but on the slim chance it does, I'll let you people know. If you don't hear anything about this ever again, assume the worst.

Love,
Maddie

P.S.
For those of you who actually read this, you are all that and a bag of chips, and a Sprite, and a Fruit-Roll-Up. I love you people so much. You make my procrastination worth it! So what if I have a D in US History! And for those of you who tell me you like my humble little Blog? Oh man. You make my life.  You get dibs on everything, hence Brista Kerry being in the title. SCORE!!

More dating drama?!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry!! I realize you've already heard this kind of drama. And I also know what you're saying: "But Madddieeee you already did this! I want VARIETYYYY!!" Well first off, if you're a person who writes 15 vowels at the end of every sentence, just leave. Stop being here. Bug someone else. Secondly, I know. I have a continuation of a previous post and a new juicy story.  Exciting, I know!

UPDATE!! Hottie McHotPants is not going to ask La-a out anytime soon! This makes things a lot less dramatic...darn. I mean, awesome! Less drama! That makes everyone so much happier! Yeah. (Sarcasm hand raised.)

So now that that problem is over, I needed some new material. So I was walking along, enjoying my lovely (sarcasm hand raised) Tuesday, And my buddy since like 4th grade, (I'll call her Bon Qui Qui, BQQ for short. That's the best abbreviation I've ever heard...I really want a sandwich now...ANYWAYS) who is Mormon, like me. She's also 15. That's an important mostly because we believe we shouldn't date until were 16. (Click me!)  
So a couple weeks ago she met three guys that she honestly likes, and can talk to for hours on end! One night, all three texted and called BQQ at the same exact time! What are the odds...

She feels like she's leading all three on, and its getting a tiny bit serious, as in talking on the phone for 4 hours. With all three boys! Oh what a dilemma.

FINAL VERDICT:

I thought at first, have fun with it. See how much you can get out of all of them! Go bowling with all three. Video conference. Sit and talk about your feelings for all I care. But then I thought, "Oh yeah. You're 15. So maybe in a year something could happen...?" Oh yeah. 

I finally decided BQQ should make all three relationships friendly and light. She shouldn't pick one guy yet. Leave all that for when you go out on a date with each individually. Then, you can get to know each one of them for reals and do whatever. (Plus you can drive. I mean, how lame is picking up your date with your mom driving??) So BQQ needs to save it, and be patient. Sorry, thats probably not what you want to hear. But hey, the truth hurts. 

Love forever, 

Maddie

OH HAPPY DAY OF FLIPPING JOYOUS GLEE. (kill me now.)

Today. Monday.

Yeah, that's all I have for you today. Have a lovely Monday, if that's possible.

I'm just kidding! As much as I'd love to, I would NEVER leave you guys hanging!! Psh. Never. (Sarcasm hand raised. (I decided to start saying this, since I probably sound horrible since you can't tell if I'm kidding or not.))
Anyways, I was in some class today, and one of my good friends (I'll call her Shania) was at my teachers desk, looking tired and close to dead. Me, being the loving caring person I am, came over. This is what happened next, word for word:
Me: "My dearest Shania, whatever is wrong?!"
Shania: "Leave me alone I want to sleeepppp. Ughklynvsyuhhh..."
Me: "Good golly! Are you sick?"
Shania: "I'm just going to sit here and sleep. I haven't slept in a freaking week! RAWRRR BE GONE!!"
Me: "Well, gee! I surely hope you feel better. Okay bye..."

ANNNDDDD SCENE!! (Okay sarcasm hand raised that entire time. Maybe I was exaggerating a wee bit.) What you should have gotten out this is the drama that is our bodies. They're so picky. Get 10 hours of sleep, or you feel dead the entire next day. Eat disgustingly healthy, or feel fat. Go run around, or you'll really be fat. On top of this, oops, sorry. You have a cold for three weeks. DARN!
Anyway, my point is that this drama with the bodies, especially sleeping, is really bugging me. Apparently, Shania just skips important classes to just SLEEP. Sure, maybe she's busy. But sleeping is probably the best ever. You have to make time for that beautiful thing! Sleeptastic!!

FINAL VERDICT:
Get some shut eye people. I, and the rest of the population is TIRED (Heh heh. Pun. Love it. Heh heh) of hearing you whine about you're terrible night! And skipping important classes just to catch up is not fair to anyone. Even if school started at noon, kids would still find a way to be tired and moody. It amazes me. One of life's unsolvable mysteries I guess...

Love you all!
Maddiekins

Awkward starfish!

Parties are always usually never fun. At least for me. Someone ALWAYS hates another person, someone sulks, someone cries. Goodness! Its a lot of work. Its just usually awkward too...(hence awkward starfish) But Friday's party was the worst. I'm not going to get into specifics, because I'd probably get into trouble. But all you need to know is that one person was freaking out and sulking the entire night, which is no fun for anyone.

FINAL VERDICT:
Flipping get over yourself! Its a PARTY, and you planned this in the first place to have fun. So have fun, dang it!!

Love, Maddie

P.S.
I have a friend who i will call Brista Kerry, and she is addicted to facebook stalking. Brista, this is a wakeup call. Get some help. I love you, and support you in whatever decision you choose, as long as you don't stalk people. Its just creepy. And if you are friends with Brista, be warned. Nothing is safe, she WILL see it. NOTHING IS SAFE!!!

This was a bad idea....

Well, I thought that drama would be a good thing to blog about, since there's always a steady stream of it in high school. But hey, guess what.I am a drama free type person! Dang it. So I've decided that instead of MY drama, I'll do someone else's. Today's subject is a good friend of mine, and I was the listener for her today. Her problem? DATING DRAMA!! *Gasp!* She is a fellow sophomore like me, (lets call her La-a, pronounced Luh-dash-uh) and her good friend is a junior. (Her name shall be Yvonne) For three months, Yvonne dated this kid (named Hottie McHotPants) for three months, he even took Yvonne to prom! Well obviously that ended. Then, come to find out, Hottie McHotPants was secretly in love with La-a! *Double gasp!* Oh man. This is scandalous!! So right now, Hottie McHotPants is being a douche by trying to get La-a to date him. Fail. This is currently going on, and when its over, I'll let you people know.

FINAL VERDICT:
Sisters before misters. Even if La-a thinks Hottie McHotPants is dreamy, (I mean lets face it, with a name like Hottie McHotPants, he has to be) she SHOULD NOT under ANY circumstances, date him. La-a shouldn't even say she likes Hottie McHotPants. Even if Yvonne says she's fine and she's over it, she's obviously not. She's secretly dying inside and is writing poems about it under her covers at 3 o'clock in the morning, then she always grabs her guitar and sings/cried herself to sleep. True story.

Okay, that entire last two sentences was a lie. But don't judge me.

Love always,
Maddie

And So It Begins...

Hi there! I'm Maddie. And this is my blog! I've been meaning to do a blog for a long time, and the assignment to create one for my Creative Writing class was the perfect oppritunity. Anyway, this will (hopefully) be updated everyday, though this is not going to be about my life. Honestly, whose life is so important that other people should know every detail about it? So this will be about something much, MUCH more interesting in my humble opinion. High school drama.
Aren't you just sucked in when a friend (or even a total stranger) is in a big fight? Seriously, don't lie. You want to know both sides, who's involved, and what the problem is. Its just FUN! And I think I've figured out why. Most people don't enjoy being in fights. So people like to live vicariously though the people who like to cause and participate in drama! That makes total sense to me, anyway.
I, like most kids in high school, get into (or at least hear about)stupid arguments and rumors all the time. It's just a way of life. I actually hate drama! That's probably the one thing you should know about me. I like to make seemingly vital things (like how your mortal enemy Tiffany is wearing the same shade of periwinkle dress as you to Homecoming) seem trivial. Because in the long run, it will be! All the fights will seem like a waste of energy. And that's what I hope you'll learn from this blog, something I learned years ago: don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things. :)
Love, Maddkins