It's a snow day...

... school is closed. Gonna go outside and build a TOTALLY EPIC FORT AND DESTROY ALL OF MY NEMESES!

We have a snow day today, and do you know what I am going to spend it doing? Dear blog readers, I am going to dedicate a whole blog post to YOU. Yes, you, because yesterday's post got the most comments I have ever received. This will be just one GIANT Reader Palooza.

Katherine:

1. Yayyyy, cult meeting! -tentative thumbs up- *beams*
2. YOU'RE FLYING A PLANE? Sorry. I couldn't help it. I, to use a beautiful phrase, loled. Good luck all the same. I've never flown in a plane without my fellow humans, either. I am a little scared, but apparently there are some other studious-types from around here who are also going to the camp, and I'll be flying with them. But they are basically strangers, so we will see how that goes.

3. Spring break isn't really in spring... is it? I find this odd. Ours is in March, too, but still... HMM. Right?! Why would they name it so strangely... I cannot fathom.

4. ME TOO ALKJfdlksjgl;jflgjf0AWEprIFDLKJDLS There are not words.

5. I don't *think* I'm going to Vidcon. I haven't really thought about it. It seems like it would be scary/moneyz consuming... but reallyreally awesome. -considers- If you go we should consider rooming together. Because that would cut costs, and it would throw us together so we could have epic shennanigan-making fun.

6. COLLEGE EDUCATION. Is good. Or something. I approve. 

7. >.> Scary. WE WILL BE AWESOME. BUT IT IS SCARY. How did you go about choosing? I'm still clueless. IS IT AWESOME? Surely it is. Because you are. #questionz #college This past summer I went to an engineering camp at ISU, and that's why I started looking at it. It's just an amazing school with a beautiful campus and a great engineering program and an Honors Program that is EVERYTHING THAT AN HONORS PROGRAM SHOULD BE. Sorry, I get excited about it. When I talked to them, they told me about a Harry Potter project they did last year. How could I NOT want to go? PLUS, the Ministry of Magic guys grew up there, and Luke, Jason, and Aaron all went there.

**** WEDNESDAY?? ALWAYS.

Hannah:

I am probably going to Chicago over spring break, too! CRAAAAZZZZY! Of course, my spring break is in late April because ours is always over Easter, and I'll be going to look at colleges with my family instead of with friends, but you know... You east-coasters and your silly schedules. We get a short Easter break, too, and it's possible I'll defer my trip to Chicago until then. IF that is the case... perhaps I will see you there. *raises eyebrows*
I wish I could go to VidCon, but it is very far and very expensive and during a summer program that I WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO LEAVE. So maybe next year... Psh, you can always sneak out! Plus, as far as conventions go, it's fairly affordable. I mean, you'd still drop a couple hundred dollars... Ahem.
ALSO, I flew as an unaccompanied minor when I was eleven, but they do pretty much everything for you when you're eleven. I can't imagine having to be RESPONSIBLE and ON TIME and everything by myself. I know. I might be 18, but I can be pretty flighty (haha, flightly...), and I'm worried I'll get on the wrong plane. Once my friend accidentally boarded a plane to NYC when she was meant to go to Chicago. Luckily, she realised the mistake before the plane left, but nobody bothered to check her ticket closely enough to see the mistake!

Okay, that's it. This is never it. There is forever more, always continuing, never ending. It is a cycle of the ages, going on and on and on and on and on... (The end).

Ruth:

I graduate in May too!! Except from college... which is SO terrifying... Real world, are you ready for me? I don't think you are... Eww, you're like old and stuff! (I jest, of course). Anyway, the world is lucky to finally have you out there. GO KICK SOME ASS AND CAUSE A SCENE!

Also, I live in Orlando, so if you come to see WWoHP we should organize a nerdfighter gathering... or something... Yuss. Yes. Affirmative. Definitely. Without a doubt. ABSOLUTELY.

 Whimsy:

Sounds like you have much awesomesauce!
"It'll be the first time that I fly a plane by myself, too."

Either it's too late and my brain shut down, or you actually FLY AIRPLANES. I just want to think that you fly planes. No, no, what I meant was that-- Um, I mean, YES. I am a professional pilot. I'm in quite high demand, actually. It's because I sing to the passengers over the intercom. And the benefits are great! Flight attendants (male ones, of course) bring me as many juice boxes as I want. But February will be the first time that I'm allowed to take out one of the private jets for my personal use. I'm pretty excited!

Engineering Camp:

Hey Maggie,
You sound really adventurous and fun loving person. Your plan is super fun and by reading your blog you have actually motivated me to do some of these stuff.... Thanks for sharing your ideas and have a great year ahead. I'm not sure who you are, or why you used the alias "Engineering Camp," (the name links to a website for science camps), but you seem nice! If you stumble upon my blog again, tell me who you are! I like people! And I don't bite! Not over the internet anyway. ;)

Nick:

Great list for '11! Many trips! Also, High School ending week IS sad!
Here's to your great accomplishments! *raises root beer* I don't have much to add to this, but I always like your comments a lot. XD And I'll toast with root beer! *also raises root beer*

That is all my lovely blog readers! As always, I enjoy you, your individual blogs, your comments, and your faces.


With bloggitude,
Maggie

Hey Guys...

For whatever reason, I was done with my homework at about 4:30 this afternoon. I know, it's weird, isn't it? I'm such a procrastinator usually. But I decided to use this opportunity to blog. Because I can.*

I think I'll take this opportunity to go over everything that I am going to do in 2011.** I mean, this year is going to be big for me, and I need to wrap my head around it all. What better way to do that than bore YOU (my dear blog readers) with... stuff? Meh.

1. Later this month I'm going on Kairos. It's a religious retreat that everyone is very secretive about, and they use code phrases (like "fourth day..." or "forth day..." Something). When the students get back they are all very... hippyish? And they wear these necklaces that are like crosses. So it's like a cult meeting, basically. And I'm going. *smile*

2. In February I'm going to an engineering and leadership camp. It'll be the first time that I fly a plane by myself, too. I just hope I remember to NOT pack my firearms. That could cause a misunderstanding! *laughs gaily*

3. March contains spring break, of course. I might go to Chicago with a couple of my friends (I've never been), or I might go to the Harry Potter theme park, or I might film some videos. I honestly don't know yet. Perhaps I'll just end up sitting at home twiddling my thumbs. I certainly hope not, though.

4. In May I f***ing graduate! I mean, what the hell? My high school... I'm sure I've said it before, but I love it there. It has become like a second home to me. I've met the most amazing people, I've learned so much. And I'm going to cry so much the last week of school.***

5. I HOPE I will get to go to VidCon this summer. I've already calculated the cost and what needs to be done. My parents don't seem wholly opposed to the idea, which is good, but I need to figure out the details.

6. This summer I will have my freshmen orientation at Iowa State, which is WEIRD to think about. It'll basically be an introduction to my new home.

7. August... I start college...****

Before I move on to Reader Palooza,  I feel the need to tell you that I twitched a lot while writing this blog. That is all.

Reader Palooza!

Hannah: It has been waaaaay too long since there was a dance! Man, that was my THING during BEDA. I'm going to try to bring it back. *does the bringing back dance* BECAUSE THERE IS A DANCE FOR EVERYTHING. ;)

Nick: Your "really's" were very convincing. XD I had my friend read the story (she is brilliant and an excellent writer) and she informed me that I was not allowed to stop there. So... I dunno. Maybe there will be more later. Perhaps. *does the possibilities dance* Because there can be more than one dance in a blog.

With love,*****

Maggie

*This song pops in my head EVERY SINGLE TIME I say that simple three word sentence. EVERY TIME.

**I promise the Babysitting blogs will start again. I haven't abandoned them.

***No, I'm not tearing up right now... *sniffle*

****GAH IT IS SO SCARY TO THINK ABOUT NOW THAT I AM THINKING ABOUT IT, BUT IT IS ALSO REALLY COOL AND EXCITING *EXPLOSION*

*****I don't think I've ever ended my blog that way, but I always consider it. Every single time I blog. <3

Unnatural Selection...

... this is another piece of "musical fiction," a type of story that is based off a song. I did one in September. This is based off of Muse's song.

Every morning I walk the dusty path to the city gates. Every morning I see the same guards wearing the same uniforms, clutching the same weapons, sporting the same scowls. The looks of disgust deepen on their brows as I draw nearer. My face remains a blank slate, but inside I writhe with anger at their prejudice toward me.


Here’s the problem with our society— there is a barrier separating my people from the “Luckies.” I don’t just mean education barriers, or economic barriers, or even sanitary barriers, although those are very much present, too. What I mean is the physical separation between the Luckies and the Unluckies. We, the Unluckies, have to go through so many obstacles and trials before we can even get a permit to step foot within the gates that keep us from their golden city. I know this because I had to get a permit so that I could work there.

The jobs in our pathetic shantytown aren’t much of an opportunity, but sometimes I wonder if it is even worth the better pay to go inside; every day I step through those gates and the guards treat me as if I am some miscreant dog who they’ve never seen before. The same goes for those citizens who have the horrible misfortune to look upon me— I stand out because of the crimson uniform we are required by law to wear.

My mom told me that a long time ago the Unluckies were removed from the city by an unnatural selection, one that was likely based on economic standing, or perhaps a feud. I’ve even heard rumors about a drug trade. Since that time, though, the Unluckies have lived in our shantytown a bit removed from the city walls. We have our own small businesses and schools, but everything is highly regulated by the Council.

I’ve never seen this council before; when I was smaller, my brother tried to tell me that it was made up, and that the Luckies secretly governed themselves. But I believe they are real.

Their job is officially to maintain the city; specifically it is to keep us out. But they have another unspoken purpose—they are supposed to justify to us the repression of the Unluckies; to make us believe that they are special, and that we are just trash.

Today it is easier to bear the glances of hatred I receive as I walk through the city. Recently, I discovered a hidden talent; who would have thought that I—an insignificant Unlucky—would have the talent for insurrection?

But as surprising as it may be, I have turned out to be a very effective revolutionary leader. The Unluckies are no longer content to be looked down upon by the Luckies as we struggle to survive. For generations, we had been treated as subpar citizens, no subpar humans, who didn’t have the same rights as the Luckies.

Going into the cramped and dingy edifice where I do menial tasks every day for small pay, I had to hold in my smirk. This morning I will servilely aide the Luckies. But last night was the beginning of the end of it all…

“For so long, injustice has been the norm in our foul, corrupt society, but no more! I am hungry for some unrest, and I imagine you are as well. We will push this insurrection beyond a peaceful protest, because we want them to understand us. They will begin to speak our language. Because as I know, and as you know, we are not mere droplets in an ocean. We are the ocean.”

Tonight, we will start a revolution.

With insurrectional tendencies,
Maggie


PS. This is just the first draft. Hopefully it will increase in epicosity.

Jumping on the BOW '11 Bandwagon

... which means that this will probably not be a continuation of my Babysitter's Chronicles. I'll write another one soon, though, fear not!

This shall just be a short updatey-type blog, since I have school tomorrow and such. I think I'll make it a list. How long has it been since I've done a list? Lists are so nice. They have distinct breaks, and there don't have to be transitions. But here I am, going on about nothing while I should be listing.

1. I just made a video about the gingerbread village that my sisters and Anna and I made. It was based off of John and Hank's Thoughts From Places vlogs, so I included them in the tweet about it (and maybe also asked them to watch it...) Anyway, they were not only kind enough to watch it, but BOTH of them tweeted about it! Which made me deliriously happy.

2. In other video-related news, my friends and I have started working on a music video for Ministry of Magic's contest. We are using the song The Curse (which I haven't seen a video for yet, surprisingly). The video is going to be SO EPIC. And we are doing a behind the scenes, which is nice, because sometimes I'm afraid that my subscribers don't know what my face looks like.

3. News that is pretty much exciting only for me is that I pulled the trigger and picked a college. Next fall you can find me at Iowa State University, studying engineering and other stuff (hopefully).

4. If you are new to my blog for some reason (perhaps because of BOW'11), I am currently doing a series called Babysitter's Chronicles, where I relate the mishaps that I had as a young babysitter. Apparently people like them, which surprised me, since I almost nixed the idea entirely. "Maggie, nobody wants to hear about the stupid things you did when you were 12." WELL APPARENTLY THEY DO, SUBCONSCIENCE!

5. I like odd numbers. *shrug*



With videoliness,
Maggie


Reader Palooza:

Hannah- I enjoy every single one of your comments. Seriously. And I am of course flattered that I rank among your favorite internet things. I cannot dare to hope that I am above kittens and babies, though. *wink* *ding*

Deanna- Medieval... sims... *gapes* *collapses*

Katherine- I wouldn't put these stories on the internet unless I hoped to give SOMEONE enjoyment. So don't feel too bad about it. =)

Babysitter's Chronicles: Flailings of a Fourteener

Yesterday I had a To-Do list. But I ended up playing Sims 3 all day. Yes... all day. Needless to say, nothing on my list got done. However, just a few minutes ago I saw my list sitting on my desk. Funnily enough, I had managed to do everything on it, despite the fact that I woke up and played another 3 hours of Sims. Everything but ONE task, that is...*

The summer before my freshman year of high school, I managed to get a part time job babysitting for a family that lived about four blocks from my house. There were two little boys, one who was getting ready to start kindergarten, and one who was about 3 years old.

The first few times I babysat for them, everything was just peachy. We played legos and board games, watched kid's television (which is bearable if you have a book and the ability to tune out shrill noises), and we even ventured outside a few times to kick a ball or play tag.

One day when I came over, their mom asked if I wanted to take them to the library. I wanted to look at her as if she were an idiot: "I don't know if this came up, but I am 14 years old. I can't drive to the library. And I don't care HOW much you think your kids like books, there is no way in hell they are going to be entertained the whole time you are at work." But of course I did not look at her as if she were an idiot, nor did I say that to her.

She ended up dropping us off at the library with their stroller, so that I could just stroll them back home when we were done. Oh, that is, AFTER we got something to eat. Their mom proceeded to hand me her credit card before she belatedly drove off. The card was for me to pay for lunch. Dear mother had promised her two little boys that they could go to a local burger joint for lunch. A burger joint that was a mere two blocks from the library.** But those two blocks were across a crazy intersection where cars come from six different directions and there are sometimes no sidewalks.

So I made an executive decision. There would be no going to the cheap burger joint. No. Way.

After exhausting the library's intrigue within a record 30 minutes, we begun our trek in the direction of their house. Of course, I couldn't just NOT take them out to eat. They were already upset about not getting burgers. So we stopped at a restaurant on a nice street with 2-way traffic and sidewalks.

This is when I started to panic. I had her freaking credit card. At this point in my life, I'd never even used my mom's credit card. I didn't know if I would have to put in a password, forge her signature, or finish a line of poetry that the waitress began to verify that I was allowed to use it. This was all in addition to having two grumpy children who really didn't want to be there, but didn't want to go home, either.

I like to think that I managed to get those two little boys through lunch without being a huge annoyance to the waitress, the other customers, and the diners next door. But I sincerely doubt it. I was stressed about too  many things to keep control over any one of them; would somebody take the stroller that we'd left by the door? Would I get in trouble for using a credit card that wasn't mine? Would this 3 year old menace stab me with a fork?***

In fact, I was so worked up, that I didn't leave a tip. Not that I would have known how to anyway. It took me long enough to figure it out when I got my OWN card. But because I didn't leave a tip, I am still afraid (to this day, 4 years later) to go to that restaurant.

I realise all these many years down the road that I should have done one of two things that terrible day:

1. I should have called my mom with a desperate cry for help, so that she could tell me to...

2. Screw the eating establishment, screw the kid's wishes, and screw their mom. Go back to their house. NOW.

Seriously, what was their mom thinking sending a 14 year old on such a stupid expedition with her very young children? What made her think that I was equipped to deal with entertaining her children in a [quiet] public environment, to send me across a dangerous pedestrian intersection, to give me her freaking credit card? Who does that to-- essentially-- another child?

With bitterness,
Maggie


*Hint: my last task was to blog.

**Two blocks FARTHER AWAY from their house, which was already a 20 minute walk away.

***That was a legitimate concern at one point.

Babysitter's Chronicles: Trials of a Twelve Year Old

As I lay in my bed falling asleep last night, I pondered my many mishaps and misfortunes as a babysitting adolescent. Several very distinct instances came to mind while I gratefully recalled that these parts of my life were past. This lead me to an idea-- Why not start a mini-series on my blog? I'll call it The Babysitter's Chronicles! Yes, that is catchy...

When I was 12 years old, I took a class at the hospital to become a Certified Babysitter. The class was terrifying; it alerted me to the plethora of dangers that the children I would soon be caring for would get into, such as drinking toxic cleaning supplies, falling down the stairs, tying me to furniture, and needing to be taken to the hospital.

But that was not all, oh no. Not only did I have to make sure that they didn't light things on fire while I blinked, I had to make food for them (having never even fed myself), play all manner of inventive games with them (else they resort to aforementioned violence), and change the Dreaded Diaper.

Needless to say, I was not at all confident that the children I watched wouldn't spontaneously combust, and that the parents wouldn't sue me and have me sent to Guantanamo Bay. Yet babysit I did, and I soon started to grow almost comfortable with my role as substitute-caretaker.

Among my first handful of jobs was to babysit for my neighbors down the street. I had the charge of a six year old and a two year old.* The mother gave me all the important phone numbers, showed me where the juice boxes were kept, and assured me that I could watch whatever I wanted on television after the kids went to bed. One phone number was of particular interest, however...

"On rare occassions Suzie Lee** puts up a fight when you change her diaper. If you absolutely need to, call our next door neighbor and she can help you."

She vaguely gestured toward the paper with the other phone numbers, moved on to other businesses, and soon left.

The kids and I ate pizza, watched a movie, and then had story time. Before long, however, it became evident that Suzie Lee needed to have a diaper change. I put her on the changing table, held my breath, removed The Diaper, and quickly shoved it into the waste basket.

The moment I had looked away to rid of the diaper, however, Suzie Lee had streaked from the changing table and down the hallway. For the next twenty minutes I chased her and tried to coerce her back to the changing table. Even brute force didn't work. (Admittedly, I was a scrawny twelve year old).

Finally I remembered that their neighbor could help me. I rushed to the list and searched for the number next to "Godsent Savior from Heaven." But try as I might (I even turned the paper over) I could not find any number other than the parents' and the pizza place.

Out of desperation I did one of the stupidest things I could have done: I left the two kids in the house and ran next door to frantically ring the doorbell. As I stood on the porch I tried not to imagine all the terrible things that they could be getting up to right at that moment. Finally she answered the door and I explained myself, trying not to sound hysterical.

The situation after that was easily sorted. The next door neighbor was magically able to subdue Suzie Lee and successfully change her diaper. I thanked her profusely as she walked back out the door, then promptly put the kids to bed (it being past time, what with all the uproar).

When the parents got home, I received the standard question: How were the kids? I thought about asking whether or not their youngest was trained to run as soon as her diaper was removed, or whether they had hidden the number for their neighbor purposefully. But of course, being my quiet, small 12 year old self, I just smiled and said that they had been very good, although Suzie Lee had been the tiniest bit difficult when I tried to change her diaper, but it was no huge problem, really.

With agedness,
Maggie


*These ages are only theorized. I don't actually know how old they were, but that should be about right.

**Child's name is made up for protective purposes moste sekretive.

Much Ado About...

... not nothing. This is not nothing. Trust me. This is a crapton of something.

Hello dear readers of my blog! It's been a while, has it not? I has, it has. But do not fret! I am back, and I have a story for you!

Just yesterday I went rollerskating. My friend (who I met at piano camp) invited The Wordsmith* and I to "Homeschoolers Night" at a skate park. Almost as soon as we got there, they called for song requests over the speakers.

Eagerly, I skate/stumbled** to the clipboard where requests were written. Very lovingly and carefully I wrote Queen under "artist" and Bohemian Rhapsody under "song." I gleefully noted that Uprising by Muse had been written just before. With much joy I skated off and jammed to Human by the Killers. (Homeschoolers clearly have good taste in music).

Every moment brought me closer to my favorite song. Every closing note I expected to hear Uprising, which would be followed by Queen's most perfect melody.

But it never came. Muse was blasted and I appreciatively sang along, but no Bohemian Rhapsody followed it. I was confused, I was hurt. Mostly I was confused.

After a while I became numb to the music and just enjoyed the company of my sister, my friend, and all her homeschooled minions. I laughed when someone fell, though my smirk was always wiped away when I lost my balance.***

All of a sudden my attention was caught by familiar lyrics.

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?

My heart did not skip for joy, however. Because it was THIS "Bohemian Rhapsody" (listen at your own peril).

First I was confused. Then I wanted to cry. This wasn't the song I asked for, this wasn't Queen. Who in their right mind would try to cover Bohemian Rhapsody in the first place??

My shoulders and neck started twitching; the song was a bug in my ear that I could not get out. It was raping my ears, and there was nothing I could do to block it or make it stop. This necessarily turned me from near-tears to a would-be-murderer. Someone had to pay for this grievous mistake, this irreconcilable error.

The song ended not nearly soon enough. There was blissful quiet afterward that immediately begun to improve my mood, and I skated for joy that the horrendous song was over.

Then... another announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, let's line up for LIMBO!" No... Oh god, please no...

Every limbo boy and girl!
All around the limbo world!
Gonna do the limbo rock!
All around the limbo clock!

With much ear rape,
Maggie


*Speaking of The Wordsmith, my baby sister just finished NaNo! I am so ridiculously proud of her.

**I was a cheapskate (see what I did there??) last night and didn't pay the extra monies for rollerblades. Therefore I had to learn how to use regular skates.

***To my credit, I did not fall once that night.