Under the Moon

We met on December thirteenth, 
And a short moment occurred between us where our eyes locked.
It was then that we knew,
When the stars shined so brightly,
Basking the snow in their glow,
We were meant for each other.

You were the star quarterback,
And I was the quiet, shy girl.
Two different types that were never supposed to mix.

Everyone foretold of our demise...
Our destined failure,
But we pressed on; a year in time.
The days went by,
And the two of us became inseparable.

There was just something about the season we met
That made everything alight with a new life.
The trees, though barren, seemed content,
While the snow glossed over the littlest things
To bestow them with a new shine.

But the winter nights were the most lively; the skies.
You and I were naturally drawn to the moon,
A bright ball of hope in the vast sky
Made even brighter by the winter air.
It was our future; it was our guardian.
It would always be our angel.

And it was under that very moon
Where our fingers intertwined, our lips locked.
Our Passion...
A burning sensation.
Fervent emotions molding together in a blend against the icy air.
Snow fell in light sprinkles onto our hats.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered into my ear softly
And I smiled.
You told me that everything would always be all right
As long as the nights carried on.

No one would know of our time spent,
Our moment shared,
Where we first kissed under the moon
On the twenty-fifth,
A perfect little evening.

And no one would care,
Except for our guardian of hope; our angel.

Our winter moon.

In Rememberance of J.D. Salinger

Born on the first of January in 1919, J.D. Salinger was a renowned writer throughout time. He had published other writings in the fiction genre, but it was his first publication for the New Yorker magazine was where he made his first appearance with his best-selling novel (one of his only novels, I believe): the Catcher in the Rye.

It was said that he effectively "...captured the hearts of several generations with his pitch-perfect knowledge of adolescence and his ear for the vernacular..." (New York Times). It is true; as soon as he came out with the story for the New Yorker magazine, it instantly got a lot of followers. The reason it was so popular was because the main character--Holden Caulfield--differentiated from other main characters in literature at the time...especially since he was an American teenager with many problems (quite symbolical to our society now). Holden was rebellious, he was witty, he was sarcastic, and most importantly, he was different from the usual.

Of course, for every positive quality to something there is always a negative to counter it; many critics discouraged the fact that Salinger freely used vulgarity for the language in his book, but even so, most reviews were "exultant" as the Catcher in the Rye remained at the top of the New York Times best-seller list for at least several months, fully establishing the Catcher in the Rye cult.

"For decades the book was a universal rite of passage for adolescents, the manifesto of disenchanted youth.But what matters is that even for the millions of people who weren't crazy, Holden Caulfield, Salinger's petulant, yearning (and arguably manic-depressive) young hero was the original angry young man. That he was also a sensitive soul in a cynic's armor only made him more irresistible." (Time Magazine)

Holden's Dilemma

A young teenage boy and the main character of the Cather in the Rye, Holden is a troubled teenager with many problems. Having been kicked out of (no, excuse me, "run away from") Pencey Prep, he struts off to New York and plans to live his life there for a little while. You find so much about him though that it's mildly scary.

From what I have read so far, Holden is a young man that doesn't quite know which direction he wants to travel in yet though he does know exactly what he wants--and needs--to search out for during his lifetime: phonies. Holden is absolutely obsessed with scoping them out of a crowd; he seems so immersed in the idea as well, but I think I've figured out why that could possibly be...

I've mentioned before that Holden seemed to be a very troubled teenager, and as a result, he tries to look at other things in life rather than himself. Thus, he can easily pinpoint the faults of others; I think that's mainly because he doesn't want to look at his own faults for fear that others might realize them too. To me, it's very hypocritical that he discusses when someone else fakes who they truly are when he blatantly lies to others all of the time; he even states this in the third chapter "I'm the biggest liar you'll ever meet", but we don't know for certain whether he's telling the truth or not about that...

He also has a habit of putting certain people that he holds close to him on pedestals, like Jane, Allie, and Phoebe. He regards those three as people who aren't phony, which is interesting given the fact that Jane goes out with Holden's roommate: Stradlater. You think that knowing he was a flirt and renowned for scoring all of the girls would give her some sort of warning, but she still goes out with him. It's a wonder why Holden still regards her in such high quality. 

My Red Hunting Hat

A hunting hat is a specific type of headpiece usually worn by hunters; the purpose of the article of clothing is not for a stylish appearance or for warmth. The purpose of the hat is to warn the similar hunters--predators--of one's presence and to stay hidden to the eyes of the hunted--the prey. Since animals are notably colorblind, it makes it rather hard for them to distinguish hunters.

Holden's red hunting hat was one that he bought in order to pick out the 'phonies': the fake people who try to put up this front to the public when, in reality, they're actually the opposite of what they want to be. (I find this interesting, however, as Holden is phony as well...very hypocritical.) Really, I think Holden is searching for the fakes not because he doesn't like them, but I think it's more so a matter of finding people who might be similar to him. They don't know that he's hunting them--even though his presence is in plain sight. 

If I had a red hunting hat, it would be worn to differentiate myself from the everyday citizens as I try to scope out the phonies. It would be hard for them to hunt me since I, essentially, present myself at public places the same way I do at home...sometimes I present myself a bit differently in order to appeal to the age group I'm interacting with. Both Holden and I would share the same goals, but most likely for different reasons.  

Going the Right Direction

In order to lead a good, successful life, you need to be led in the right path with the correct aspirations and goals. For our English class, I think that we're pretty much going in the right direction already. Are there things that could be improved?

Probably.

Are there things that I think should be changed or corrected? Not...really; I don't think there is much else we need to do to make the class, well, "better". There are little things I can nitpick at, I guess, but they are beyond control to fix: like the size of the class. I've never liked small classes for some reason, but I'm growing used to it. I think it has to do with the silence, since I hate when it's too quiet.

One thing I think we should include for our classroom discussions are debates; I love debating about things I'm passionate about, such as slavery, racism, etc. This, more than likely, has to do with the fact that I'm an argumentative person. I think to make the class a lot more enjoyable we could include debates about the subject we read or something.

Another thing that could stand to be changed (per my nitpicking) is the way we take notes--it's a little tedious to me, and most of the things that we must include aren't really found in the book itself. I just like taking notes the regular way...outlines and bullet points. These left-hand, right-hand notes are new and confusing to me...too much so where I don't think I'll ever grow accustomed to.

Thankful for...

It's incredibly difficult to choose just one friend out of the many that I have...especially the ones that I have made within my English class. I'm not sure how I should write this out either, but I'll give it my best. So with that said, here we go.

Joanna...
We met long ago--well, no, it was just last year, but anyway--and when I found out you were in the same English class as me this year, it was such a blessing...as well as a relief. Sitting beside you each and every day always makes me happy.  Somehow we always find something to laugh about during class, or just snicker quietly: knowing that we have an inside joke that no other person, who might intrude upon us, would understand. Thank you so much, Joanna, just for being there almost every day beside my desk...just an arm length away.

Ane...
My goodness, Ane, Ane, Ane... Well, what can I say? You're absolutely hilarious and somehow you always manage to bring a smile to my face no matter what. We just met this year in English class, but I wish we had met before. I'm thankful for your presence, your personality, and just the atmosphere you bring into the classroom. So thank you...so much.


Jack *John* D...
Oh my gosh, you are just--words cannot describe how much I'm thankful to have met you. Even though we have division together and whatnot, it seems that this year we've become better acquainted. You're funny, silly, and incredibly annoying, but that's what I'm thankful for (at least sometimes, haha). I hope to spend the rest of these days in English just like we have been doing.

Good vs. Evil

For Cormac McCarthy's novel, the Road, there are many reoccurring themes present in the literary piece. One of which places itself at the top of the list is the idea of "Good vs. Evil". It is true that death is also a major concept as well, but--personally--I believe that the idea falls under the same category as "Good vs. Evil", as it can be perceived as either good (for instance with the man's wife) and bad (in reference to the man and the boy).  

 "They keep walking, the man coughing blood, dying, envying the dead."

"Billions of people have died, all animal and plant life, the birds of the air and the fishes of the sea are dead: 'At the tide line a woven mat of weeds and the ribs of fishes in their millions stretching along the shore as far as eye could see like an isocline of death.'"

 Based upon this, I feel that death has somehow embodied itself into a being, for it is 'evilly' taking the lives of the world: and still taking.
There's one instance in which McCarthy clearly gives the impression of good vs. evil when the boy and the man encounter the band of 'marchers' on the road.

"'Were they the bad guys?'

'Yes, they were the bad guys.'

'There’s a lot of them, those bad guys.'

'Yes there are. But they’re gone.'

The overarching theme in McCarthy’s work has been the face-off of good and evil with evil invariably triumphant through the bloodiest possible slaughter. Had this novel continued his pattern, that band of marching thugs would have been the focus."

 And another instance, similar to the one mentioned above, is used later:

“We wouldn’t ever eat anybody, would we?”
“No. Of course not. ...”
“No matter what.”
“No. No matter what.”
“Because we’re the good guys.”
“Yes.”

Because the concept of the everlasting battle is mentioned throughout most of the book, I think that it is a main aspect to the Road.


Source: New York Times - Review of "The Road"

Open Letter...

To Charles Bukowski,

In your tale of "Dinosauria, We", you create both a sense of mystery and awareness that we, as the present generation, need to focus on in order to prevent an event like "this" to occur. The "this" leaves me open for much pondering such as wondering whether "this" was created due to human kind's ability, or created because of events humans did not try to prevent: such as Global Warming.

There is one thing that incredibly sticks out in my mind and that's these certain sentences that I will mention: "the sun will stay hidden there, awaiting the next chapter". These two lines of the poem can be interpreted in many ways, but how did you want the readers to interpret it? I interpreted it as a period of "rebirth"--where the sun is waiting to start the world anew, but I do have a question as to regarding that...
If your purpose was to convey a sense that the world would be reborn, what is your meaning of "rebirth"? Is it in the sense that the whole world will start over again like the first makings of Earth, or did you mean that things--for the people still living--will just begin again for them.

One other quote that sticks in my mind is your line about robots: from what I understand, the "robots" that you mean are not super advanced technological species, but in the sense that we, as humans, would become if "this" occurred. When I think of this poem added with the sense of humans in the "this" world, I think of desensitization and a programed way of doing stuff. What I mean by that is after living in that world for such a long time, we would start to lose our sense of emotion and we would religiously continue to do things as if we were programed to do such. Well, at least that's what I believe.

--Sincerely,
Lexi

Father and Son

The Road: a tale of a post-apocalyptic world where darkness lies everywhere; there isn't a sun, warmth of any kind is nonexistent, and a chilling, everlasting cold suspends in the air. In the story, there are two main characters where we are told of their journey through the lands towards the southern part of the country--a father and his son.

The relationship between these two is like any other parental relationship, though with more sense of reality than present day times. The father still acts like a parental unit to the boy--caring and protective--and the boy, despite everything he's currently going through in this world, still acts like a kid at heart. Such an instance occurs when the boy--as he and his father are sitting in their temporary camp site--asks the man to read to him as well as leave their lamp on.

Compared to parental relationships of current day times, the relationship the boy and the father share is (as I said earlier) more realistic and truthful than most. In The Road, the son isn't afraid to ask his father about death and basically accepts the fact that they'll eventually die anyway. Most kids would be afraid to speak of something like that (I know I would be if I had been told this around his age), but I'm sure parents would avoid the question if asked--unlike the father in this story. There's no sugarcoating his words...the father just flat out gives his son the truth. Something about that, in itself, is incredibly admirable. It is a subject that is normally explained lightly or in such a fashion that it seems that the way it was thought out was to be a 'sweet' way of putting things: I know that's how my mother always told me of death...when God was ready to claim me for the Heavens he would take me, and as long as I did things correctly and took care of myself, I'd be able to live for a good amount of time.

John Proctor: Hero or Stooge?

How you portray John Proctor's actions is solely based upon how you define the words "hero" and "stooge". A hero is a man who is admired due to his courage. A stooge is someone whose purpose is to support, or assist, when dealing with unpleasant work.

So what is John Proctor?

In my opinion, I see Proctor as a hero; why, you may ask? Well, for starters he was one of the very few--alongside with Giles, Francis, and Hale (to a certain extent)--that actually stood up to say that Abigail and the other girls, including Mary Warren, were liars. Yes Proctor is mainly doing this for the sake of seeing his wife back with him again, but that's all it takes. He had the ability to stand up and call Abigail out for what she truly was: a lying, deceitful whore filled with envy and jealousy of a love she could not truly be apart of...a wife to John. That takes a lot of bravery given the fact that he just openly, though a bit reluctantly, professed that he had preformed adultery with her, and in a society where that is so heavily frowned upon...wow. That's a slap in the face for both Abigail and the court.

So to me he's a hero; he sees the horrid side of what their lives have all become and now, like in the end of Act III, he's basically saying he'll just sit back and watch everything unfold because they--in reference to the court--began to put Abigail on a high pedastal. He'll just watch the community crumble, uttering the final phrase: "I told you so." 

Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God

Sinners in the hands of an angry God: it's just as its title suggests--a reading discussing the fear that puritans have in their hearts concerning their religious views.

Basically what the title infers is that God holds everyone in his hands, and as each of them sin, he grows angry. It was said that "God held back the waters and the sins piled up until finally they flooded out". In all honesty, I don't blame the puritans for being scared to commit a sin and what not. Some of the things that priests drilled into their minds are enough to make anyone stand on their toes. Actually, compared to our modern day society, viewing religion this way could be a possible good thing. If everyone thought that doing a few things wrong would definitely send them to Hell, we would have a bit more of a peaceful nation. Of course there would be one or two wrongdoers, but I think that living in fear is a way to keep everyone in check.

Everything has its negative traits though; if we did live in fear, but found out that the things--the punishments--we were afraid of never came, we would start to question the very religion we've been following...as well as our morals. That would give us the chance to rebel against the higher ups that had us believing such a thing for so long. So why did the puritans not realize this when one of their own committed a sin? Or did ironic things happen to keep them believing in God?

Arrivals... There Goes the Neighborhood.

With living comes moving, and with moving comes new experiences, different settings, and a whole lot of trouble. Moving is a difficult concept for a lot of people to grasp--some can handle it more easily than others. I've had to move from house to house in my lifetime, but it wasn't a really emotional experience. Each time I've had to move though, I have to acclimate myself to a new school; that, I personally believe, is quite hard to place as 'fun'.

Originally I lived in the city as I started to develop into a toddler. When I was one or two, my family and I moved to the suburbs: closer to where my grandparents from my mother's side lived. Then we moved back to the city so I could start to attend school out there--as well as becoming closer to my father's work area and my mother's preschool job (her maternity leave was up). Quite the yo-yo-effect...I know. When I began to attend my first elementary school, it wasn't all that bad since I came in as a Kindergartener and not, like, a third grader or anything of the like. I found out my place in the social roster of school, made some friends, and had a good time.

...Until the end of sixth grade came about.

With the system of CPS  in the year 2008, a lot of elementary schools in my community were stopped at grade six--so you were forced to find a different school that had the middle school roster, which spelled another move for us. We ended up moving to where we currently live now and I attended a Catholic school: a rather dull, dreary-looking little place.  It was awkward since most of the students that were in my class (from seventh to eighth) had been together since Kindergarten and whatnot. I felt like the odd one out, the one who didn't belong... The 'new kid'. I think it's a human instinct to keep yourself guarded in new and unfamiliar terrain as you try to get a layout of this new territory you've stepped into.

My classmates then grew to the idea that I was a shy, timid girl who rarely ever spoke or got angry. And boy they don't know how wrong they were. Yes I was quiet the first week (as I was my first year of Whitney Young too), but once people got to know the loud, energetic, and snappy Lexi...well...I guess you can say "there went the neighborhood". I don't think my seventh and eighth grade class was ever the same again. We had laughed at inside jokes, sung together at church productions, graduated together, and each memory is so sweet in my mind--so precious--that I'm so very glad for the experience. 

Some...may not have the same luck as I have had. With the historical instance of Christopher Columbus coming to the "Americas", he turned the Native American's world completely upside down--a huge one-eighty degree spin. At first when he arrived, the Natives could have possibly thought of him to be a divine power sent from God himself who could do whatever to them if they did not please him correctly.

Honestly, I don't think they were too far from the truth--just not in the sense that he was God's right-hand man. Even if the Native Americans were nice to Christopher Columbus, even if they were appeasing to his wants or needs, he still turned their lives into an everlasting Hell. "...and the natives as slaves, how ever many their Highnesses require." Now it's not so much of the statement "there goes the neighborhood", but more so: "the neighborhood's gone".

Introductions

Good morning, afternoon, evening--whatever your time zone is, hello to you! The name is Alexandria, or Lexi for short. I'm fifteen years old (had a birthday on the eighteenth of May) and currently in my sophomore year at Whitney Young; gosh, I feel so old now. Most of my classes so far are pretty decent--except Gym because it's just...well...gym: there's not much more I can say about it.  Chemistry comes right afterwards so that class kind of makes up for it. Everything else is either mediocre or cool, but this is only the beginning of the year after all so things will most likely change either for better...or for worse.

I must confess that this isn't the first blog that I've ever done; I actually had to write one for my freshman year about "High School: Tips and Tricks", but when the year ended so did the blog. This blog, however, will probably last a lot longer than the other one.

So, what is there more to know about me? Not to toot my own horn, but I'm quite talented: I have a few things that I love to do such as sing, play the piano, draw, write, and act. I absolutely love acting and singing; the year before freshman year I actually auditioned for a preforming arts school known as ChiArts and got in, but I opted to come here instead.

Drawing is a hobby that I picked up on again recently since a couple years back I went through a phase and lost my motivation. I can't say that I draw splendidly well--all I draw are animals/mythical creatures, nature, and technology--but I guess I'm okay at what I do. It's also my way to vent when I'm feeling very strong, almost suffocating, emotions.

Writing is definitely a new hobby of mine--I started it about a year ago--and I'll say that I'm really passionate about it thus far. I mostly write short stories or ideas I get on impulse and they usually fall in the romance, fiction/realistic fiction, or fantasy categories: sometimes even science fiction if I'm feeling spontaneously inspired. I'm especially passionate when it comes to writing stories about interactions between characters of different sizes--kind of like in The Borrowers series or Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift. Although writing romance is a favorite of mine too.

Playing piano is a hobby that has been with me for so long that I'm surprised I wasn't born with a baby grand attached to my little fingers! It's great to express my feelings through certain songs, but I wish I knew how to read music. So far I've learned by ear and through YouTube tutorials, but I've yet to have actual piano lessons. I'm thinking about getting a piano teacher soon...I can't make promises though: I'm extremely fickle.

Well, I hope that through this blog you've gotten to know a little bit more about me as a person and hopefully there will be more like this in the future! Until then, au revoir!

--Lexi<3

http://javiercamposblog.blogspot.com/