Answer the following on your blog:
1. If you were interviewing the writer of your favourite author/book piece (example that you brought in for class), what questions would you want to ask about the process involved in writing? Include the author's name and the name of your book in your blog entry.

Dr. Seuss
Green Eggs And Ham

What inspired you to write this story? Was is hard to think of a story where every line rhymes, is full of small words and still had a plot? Was it hard only using 50 different words? Did you pan on only having 1 word that had more than one syllable? Where can I get green eggs? Who is Sam?

2. What do writers have to say about their role in writing about freedom of expression?

I don't know what the question is asking, because I don't know who they mean by writers. Well, as a writer, I write whatever I want. As much as teachers and peers tell me what I should write or what they'd like me to write, I don't always listen. If its a good idea, or a school assignment i might take elements from their idea or even use the whole thing but if I don't want to write that I won't. I won't write a paper on how much I love God, when I don't believe there is one. I strongly believe that you should be able to write whatever you like, but public release should be controlled. I don't think that the KKK should be allowed to give out pamphlets to the public on how worthless Africans are. I think that what you write is your own business, but you gotta keep it to yourself. I suppose that you could give it to friends and like-minded people but you can't force it onto innocent strangers or brainwash little kids or any of that crazy shit. I don't really know how it would work, but everyone would be able to write what they wanted, and give it out to their friends and not offend the general public. Somehow.

Unrealistic dreams are my favourite kind! I love dreaming that I'm married to Daniel Radcliffe, that I work for the ATF or that I'm living in Ecuador with my brother-in-law's family. It's not that these things are impossible; they just have a 99.999999999% chance of not happening. I mean realistically, I don't even live in the states, and I don't think I'd be willing to get an American citizenship so I don't think I'm currently eligible for ATF. That, and the whole crazy risking your life for reasons you don't actually know about thing is off putting. So working for ATF is probably not going to ever become relaity.

Hypothetically speaking, I could marry Dan Radcliffe. I mean, it definitely legal and possible. Hypothetically. There's been alot of gay rumours lately about Dan though, and I don't want to lend credence to silly gossip but the gay kiss (at some theatre award show in february, with James Corden, who is openly gay) was kind of questionable. He says that he doesn't want to date actresses which is good for my cause, but not if he's decided to date actors instead. Not that there's anything wrong with it. I mean love is love, right? But I won't lie, I'd cry a little bit if he was gay. Becuase when I was 11, I fell in love with Harry Potter. Mostly the Harry form the books but I always said that Dan Radcliffe is now the only person who can play Harry because he just is Harry. If he was gay it would shake my world. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. But, I don't know if he's gay. Even though I want to marry Dan Radcliffe, (actually I probably want to call him Harry Potter) I really doubt it will ever happen.

I could move to Ecuador. Maybe not right now, but at the end of the school year it would be possible. I'd have a place to stay and everything. I just would be staying with my brother-in-law's family. Who don't speak English. Or understand it. And I'm sure if I think his family in Canada are bad, It would be nothing compared to the one's in Ecuador. And I wouldn't go down there unless my sister went with me. And she doesn't speak much Spanish yet. She originally said she was going to learn Spanish with my nephew Maricio who is going on three now. But now she said she is going to learn with the babies, Sebastiane and Leelaila (which is apparently a white girl name, according to my sister-in-law, Lorena) who are about 6 months. I think she's going to have to wait for more kids to come because she's too lazy to actually learn Spanish. But the lack of speaking Spanish, or knowing people who speak Spanish and English in Ecuador would definitely put a damper on my moving to Ecuador dreams.

Oliver The Goldfish



Oliver the Goldfish was born in Big Al's Aquarium Services in Brampton and came to our family in a time of great need, after the death of Bernard the Angelfish. He overcame many great obstacles in his life including middle child syndrome, the loss of his good friend Ping the Siamese fightingfish, and the traumatizing near-flushing incident of '99. Oliver was a kind fish, who loved to swim around his tank, eat the algae off the side of his plastic castle and play nicely with the other fish. He is survived by several thousand of his estranged siblings, Lisa the minnow and Bertie the betta fish. Oliver was an irreplaceable member of our family and he will be greatly missed.



We would also like to take this time to welcome our newest family memeber, Mopsy the blue tetra fish to our family and invite you all to her tank debut on Saturday December 6th, 2008 at 2 p.m.

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He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead and rolling down his face. The room had been silent for almost ten minutes and he wondered if she had left. It wouldn't be the first time. 'I don't know why I play these games with her. This is stupid. I should end it.' Empty thoughts, he knew. He would never try to stop her from tormenting him because it was probably the only reaosn she was with him. And a sick, twisted, unhealthy relationship was better than none at all.

He heard the floor creak creak behind him and felt the panic well up inside him. 'She's baiting me. She wants to see the fear. Don't. Show. Fear.' He tried to will his body to calm, with little success. Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. The sound was out of place in the sick world of her games. She made little to no noise, and she would never give him warning of her movements.

"Bobby? What the hell are you tied up for man? What the fuck is going on here? And where's your clothes?" Asked a voice as hands loosened the ropes binding him to his seat. Next came the blindofld. It was only Hector.

"Uhh-- I was playing a game with... Raina." He debated on not telling Hector who he was with, but the answer would have been glaringly obvious. She was the only person he'd ever brought home.

"Raina? She's into this shit? Seriously? Damn. I never would have thought that. She's always so quiet and shit. I guess it's always the quiet ones, eh?" Hector asked, with a conspirational smile and an eyebrow waggle.

"Uhh, yeah." He said. He just wanted to find his clothes. 'Fucking Hector. I'm standing here in my boxers, he just untied me from the chair my girlfriend tied me to, and he wants to talk sex. Douchebag.' He thought as he spotted his shirt across the room.

"Seriously, that wicked awesome. If even you can get a kinky, nymphomaniac girlfriend then there must be hope for the rest of us dude. This like fries my brain though, dude." Hector said as he touched his head with all ten of his fingers and said "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ".

"Yeah, I guess so. Uhh.. I'm going to go have a shower. And whatever you do, don't say anything to Raina. No 'subtle hints' or looks or eyebrows or any creepy shit, okay?" He called over his shoulder as he headed out of the room.

Dairy Queen is closing. That doesnt really affect me because I don't live in Bracebridge, and I don't spend a whole lot of time here out side of school. In fact before I started going to St. Dom's, I had only been to Bracebridge 4 times in my life. Twice to sign up for St. Dom's, and twice to the beer store when the one in Gravenhurst was closed. I still don't come to Bracebridge that ofter because it's like a 45 minute drive from my house. See, I live in the middle of nowhere. 1185 Middle of Effing Nowhere, thats my address. Or thats what I told my parents when I was 11 and this place was still my cottage. Apparently I was an adorable child.

I do like Dairy Queen, though. The Blizzard makes my life complete. Cookie Dough, French Silk, Brownie Batter, CheeseQuake, Reese's Pieces, Oreo. SO Good. And Dilly Bars (I think thats what those things are called). DQ Cakes. DQ Sandwich. Buster Bar. MooLatte. Brownie Explosion. Its all so good. Millions of calories packed into a plastic cup, with chocolately goodness.

Yum.

At the end of this year I don't know what I am going to do. As all of my friends go off to college and university, or to work I still haven't decided. I know my father would be thrilled if I signed up for Nipissing or Georgian because they are schools that are nice and close to home; he hasn't seemed to realize that he doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell of making me stay in Muskoka past graduation. I did not want to come here in the first place, I do not want to be here and I sure don't plan on delaying my inevitable departure. But I haven't told him that I don't think I want to go to school next year. Not that I don't ever want to go to college or university, but realistically I am an extremely lazy teenager with almost no motivation for school work. I have a work ethic, I do well at work and I learn fast but when it comes to school I just don't seem to have the effort. I can't seem to will myself to do the work. I sit down at my computer with no programs open but Microsoft word, nothing around me, my iPod safely in my bedroom, and I begin. I will begin to type, anywhere from the first sentence to the first page. If I am lucky my concentration will last for the whole assignment but I am rarely that lucky. Normally, something I type will remind me of something I once read in a book (I've read a lot of books), or something that a friend was talking about, or something I meant to tell my sister for her english paper, or something that my brother asked me about, or something I watched on TV or in a Movie... It goes on and on.

It's not that I don't realize that I'm only screwing myself over. I fully realize that with my grades I will never be accepted to any school, for anything. I know that I need to go to college or university in order to make something of myself. I know that I can't work at Boston Pizza for the rest of my life if I intend to afford my lifestyle. I know that everyday I miss is another day I will be back at school. I know I'm a spoiled brat who is taking the wonderful oppurtunities provided to her for granted. I do realize these things. I just can't seem to care. It's not even that, I don't think. I do care what happens to me, and about school and grades and college. I'm amazingly lazy. I don't know where my work ethic has gone because believe it or not, I used to have one. I used to hand assignments in early, and would never dream of missing a homework question. I have a good mind, and I'm sure I have some talent. It seems that I'm old enough to know better, but young enough not to care.

I have a plan though, that I've been formulating over the past few weeks. I haven't figured out the logistics of it, but I'm thinking of going on a sort of missions trip next year. There are many organizations I'm looking at, and I think it would be good for me. I think that spending a few months helping out kids from broken families in impoverished countries might make me get my act together and appreciate what I have. But that's not the only reason I am going. That's not even the main reason. I want to go and help people. I like helping people, and I want to experience another culture. One of the organizations, Canada World Youth, offers a 6 month program that involves you and a partner from another country being paired up as part of a larger team. The first 3 months is spent in a part of Canada that you don't live in, where you help disadvantaged Canadians. The second half of the program is spent in your partner's home country, where yu help our some of their fellow citizens who are impoverished. I need to research it more, but I think that one of the programs could be a good thing for me, and solve my dilemma of what to do next year.

It has taken the recent chill in the air for me to realize that summer is finally gone. It was my last carefree summer, too. It makes me a little sad that after this year I can't really freeload off of my parents any more. Well, I suppose to could but it would be kind of pathetic. By the time graduation rolls around, I'll have just turned 18. If I graduate on time, which is still up in the air at the moment.



It makes me angry that I wasted my last free summer working. Not that summer work is bad, but I worked too much. I saw my godson twice, my old friends maybe 3 or 4 times and my current group of friends on the few weekends that I came home. Strangely enough, I saw more of my sister's friends than I did my own. My day basically went like this: wake up around 7, get to work around 8:30, work until 3-5, get home about 30 minutes after that, wait for my mother to leave so I could have a smoke, and then I would go out with my sister.

It's odd that I spent the summer hanging out with my sister, because she's three years older than me and we were never very close when she lived at home. We fought like sisters do, becuase I'd steal her clothes and she would treat me badly. I guess we got along okay the last year we lived together, when I was in grade nine, but that was more of a mutual alliance; I'd keep her secrets so long as she kept mine. Between Meagan, my cousin Kyle and myself, we would band together to make sure there was always some one at home to take the attendance call from the school, and that we got the early warning letters before my grandma and that we always had an alibi if we were spotted somewhere that we shouldn't be. Life was good, but we weren't close by any stretch of the imagination. Our daily screaming matches were cut down to two or three times a week and the other 4 days we were allies, but not really friends.

Which is why i'm now flabbergasted as I realize that i spent the majority of my summer with my sister. We ate breakfast and lunch together everyday becuase she worked in the office across the complex. We often ate dinner at my grandma's house (because you don't turn down a free meal, especially when it includes home made cinnamon rolls for dessert) and then we would go out for hours together afterwards. Its an easy friendship. I'm just not sure how it came about.