Andrea’s Angel

Edgar Allen Poe's poem, A Dream Within A Dream, is startlingly true. How are we really supposed to know the difference between dreaming and waking? A quote from one of my favorite books, Frostbite , by Richelle Mead,  really reminds me of this poem. "Dreams, dreams. I walk them; I live them. I delude myself with them. Its a wonder I can spot reality anymore." This line is said by a nineteen year old character that is a little crazy, but still very smart for a person his age. In a later book in the same series as Frostbite, Blood Promise, the same character also says this: “If your eyes weren't open, you wouldn't know the difference between dreaming and waking.” Sometimes, I have dreams that come true, and it is really scary. Other times, I have a dream that seems so real, that it is hard to wake up and know that it wasn't. 

I recently read a story, Young Goodman Brown, by Nathaniel Hawthorne, and my teacher wanted me to write a thesis on it. So here goes: I don't believe that Young Goodman Brown actually met with anyone in the forest. I think that he got so scared, as soon as he got into the forest, that his mind started hallucinating things, and all the devilish things he encountered were only made up in his mind.

We have spent weeks trying to perfect these stunts. Never did it. One of them is pretty good, but the rest, well, can't say the same about them.

The Socratic Method is a conversation among peers that asks and answers questions. It is an opportunity to learn from each other, and I enjoy doing them. Last year, my teacher had us do some, and every time, I learned something new I didn't know. When you learn from people your own age, you tend to remember what you learned more because they use comparisons that involve things that you are all interested in. I really enjoy Socratic Seminars, and would enjoy doing more of them in my English class this year.

One thing I have done in my English class this year, that I am proud of, is my effort in making my blog posts. Usually, if a teacher doesn't grade something, I don't do it. If it is not required of me to do something I am the type of person to not do it. The only exceptions to this are when I like to do the thing, or I feel that it needs to be done to help others. I truly like writing on my blog, which is why I try to keep up with the schedule.

Today, we were asked if we knew the people in our community. Now that is a loaded question. I do know a lot of people, all along the Central Coast, but only specific types of people. I know people involved with softball, cheerleading, and football. If you ask me if I know a certain adult, I probably don't, but I do know hundreds of girls from the age six to age fifteen. I enjoy meeting new people and getting to know them, and I love helping people. I don't many people in my classes, but I recognize most of them. At school I am more of a person that hides in the back. Usually, by the end of the first semester though, I know most of my classmates.

I was asked to memorize a poem. It is called Richard Cory , and its not exactly short. It was very hard, but I made it happen. I was asked how I memorized it, and my answer was this: I first wrote it down on a piece of paper, and then I would memorize it line by line. I continued to do this for three days, and by Friday, I had it memorized. I recommend you read Richard Cory .

The author of Conscience of a Hacker , The Mentor, is obviously a smart person. You can see it by the way he writes, ( his use of syntax), and the words he uses (his diction). The Mentor uses large words, and has no grammatical errors. His method of writing attracts both young and old, and is very enjoyable.                                                                                                                                           ~Donadagohvi

Today, I read something in my English class, called Conscience of a Hacker by The Mentor. It is a piece written to explain the hackers point of view. I enjoy reading things like this, because I like when you can clearly see what the author is thinking and feeling. The Mentor is explaining his reasons why he hacks, and tries to get others to understand him. This was a very enjoyable piece to read. If you would like to, follow the link HERE .                                                                                                                                           ~Donadagohvi

Today I am writing to be understood. I am going to explain my reasons for posting certain things. If you read this blog and are not from Dr. Preston's class, you won't understand it. So, I will explain. It all starts with English. English. The one class I never know what to expect with. Now, you may have a normal English class that does normal English class things. You have a teacher that covers all the normal stuff, gives vocab quizzes every Friday, and makes you read boring books.  Not this one. Dr. Preston's English class is something different. I don't know how to describe it. You know that vocab quiz you took last Friday? The several others you've taken since the start of school? Forget them. Yeah, we have a vocab list, but we never take quizzes on it. The normal things you do in English don't apply to this class. Instead of homework from the book, it comes in the form of this blog. We learn from our peers as much as we learn f

Today, I was asked what I do with my day. Every weekday, I do the same things. I usually don't ever have a change of schedule. So here it is: 5:30 am - Wake up, do homework I didn't finish the day before, help everyone get ready, make everyone's lunch, and get ready for school. 8:30 am- School begins. 3:00 pm- School ends,  get picked up at 3:15, pick up my cousins at 3:45, and make any errands necessary. 4:00 pm- Get home, take care of all my pets, start on chores. 5:30 pm- Cheer practice.  7:30 pm - Cheer practice ends, make any last errands, go home, finish chores, make dinner, do homework, and take care of family and animals. 11:30 pm- If I'm lucky, this is bedtime. Usually later though. So ask me again whether I can go to that party tonight.  Ask me if I have time to do anything.  I don't. If only there was more time in the day. My house would be cleaner. My homework would actually be done instead of half-assed. I could actually do thin

Essay. The damn word brings so many expletives to mind. I don't know exactly why I feel this way, but can you blame me? In every English class, you are required to write at least three of them a year. I should be a pro at them. I'm not. First, you learn with highlighters, and are told what goes where. Then, they bring in the thought maps and all the pre-writing stuff thinking that it will help. It doesn't. After that, they teach you with the hamburger template. I personally don't ever use any of these 'helpful tools' to write an essay unless I have to. I just sit down and write. If I don't feel passionate about the topic of the essay, I don't usually do well. When I was in junior high and we had to write personal narratives, I always got the highest scores, but as soon as they assigned expository writing, I failed. I hope someday I will enjoy writing essays, but as far as I can see, that's not gonna change.                                

I spent about an hour, trying to read this book without making mistakes.  Impossible. To those who can read Fox In Socks by Dr. Seuss, without making mistakes, I applaud you. I had my little cousin recording me reading, and every time I made a mistake, she would laugh. After about ten tries, I asked her if she thought she could do it better. She said yes. I then videotaped her reading the book, laughing the whole time. If you notice, you might hear purring in the background, and see a tail moving across the camera. My cat, Sarge, was responsible for both of these things, and later, his sister, Eris, jumps in as well. Despite my urging, my cousin was unable to finish reading, but she did well. Then goes my video, where I almost started laughing because I messed up.                                                                                                                                           ~Donadagohvi

My Big Question. When someone asks what your Big Question is, most people respond with something like: Are there other universes, is there a Heaven and a Hell, or what happens after we die. Although I am curious as to what the answer may be, what I really want to know is this: Do we ever really know someone? Now, you might say that yes, you do know the people close to you, but hear me out. A mother knows her son differently than his girlfriend does, and the son knows his girlfriend differently than her best friend. A student that never pays attention knows his teacher differently than the teachers' pet. Again I ask: Do we really know someone, or do we only see the side of them that we want to see, the side they want us to see?                                                                                                                                           ~Donadagohvi

I made a bet. This bet was made with a friend of mine, Diana, and it went like this: If I read Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, in one semester, I win twenty bucks. If I don't finish it, she wins the money. We shook on it, both of us with a smirk on our faces, completely confident in our choices. Our teacher, Dr. Preston, watched the whole thing, and smiled. I don't know whose side he's on, but I sure hope it's mine. I walked out of the class, went off in search of the book, and began my mission. Simple. Easy. Not really. This book has 1,500 pages in it, and it was published in 1862. I couldn't find the book at the library, and had no time to look elsewhere. At first, I agreed to the bet just to prove that I could, because I hate when people tell me that I am not capable of doing something. I will go out of my way to prove you wrong. So that's what I did. I went home later that night, found an online version, and started reading. I missed cheer prac