My Brilliant Idea

Hey. Today during my session with my therapist/counsellor/whatever-you-call-it, I had this amazing idea to help motivate me to do stuff: a “Fuck You” Board. Let me explain. The conversation started off with her (my therapist) talking about something she calls the Law of Attraction. Basically, the way she explained it, the more positive energy you put into something, the more likely it is to happen, and vice versa. I disagree, because, as I pointed out, I know some parents of kids with cancer never even imagined that their child wouldn’t beat that cancer, and yet their child died anyway. She said that wasn’t what she meant, and that she was talking about things we have control over, but I wasn’t really getting it.

I pointed out how I finished high school and got my diploma instead of going for my GED/HiSET (which is what it’s now called) out of spite for all of the school administration who believed I would never succeed, because that was the biggest way I could think of to tell them “FUCK YOU” without saying it straight out, because apparently that’s a big no-no, socially-speaking, at least according to my mom. My therapist said that even though it originated out of spite, it was actually positive energy because I was telling myself, “I’m going to do this.” I kinda saw where she was coming from with that. She went on to say that if that’s what works for me, then that’s okay. That’s when it hit me:

I should make a “Fuck You” Board and hang it on my closet door.

I said this, and after she got control of her laughter, she asked what that meant. I said I was going to take a blank poster board, draw a middle finger in the middle surrounded by the words “FUCK YOU”, and write the names of all the people who have ever doubted me or didn’t believe in me. That way, if I ever needed motivation, I could just look at that board and see all the people who I want to continue proving wrong.

I have to say, I’m wicked excited about this. 🙂

I can’t wait to get started! I’ve already started planning out the design in a notebook, and have written down quite a few names already. I’m also going to make sure to write small enough so that I have space to add to it when other people come along. My dad said I should put him and my mom on it, only half joking, but I explained that it’s not about people who piss me off, but people who don’t believe in me or don’t believe I can/will succeed, who I have to prove wrong. I know my parents are the top two people in existence who most believe in me (even if I may say/think otherwise when I’m pissed at them).

I’ll post a picture of my “Fuck You” Board when I’m done. Maybe I’ll block the names out. Maybe not. I don’t know. But I promise you, it’s gonna be awesome.

That’s it for now. I hope you all had a nice New Years. Bye!

-Sam

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Just To Clarify….

Hey. I know my last post may have seemed full of hatred toward my sister; however, that is not the case. While, yes, I was super pissed at her for acting the way she did and getting me into a shitload of trouble, I love her more than life itself. She’s my little sister and I would give my life for her in a heartbeat. She’s just a fucking asshole at times (but aren’t we all?).

Ugh. I’ve been sick literally this entire fucking month! I missed every single school day from Friday, October 30, through and including the entire next week. My first day back was last Monday. And, top it off, I’m fucking sick again! My throat is fucking killing me, and MY ENTIRE FUCKING BODY HURTS!! I can’t deal with this! Ugh!

-Sam

IT’S SUMMER VACATION!

Hey! So, I’m happy to announce, at 9:30am EST this morning, I officially became a Junior! I’m in 11th grade (technically- however, when I’m asked, it’s always “uhhhh, I was in 10th, and I’m going into my junior year…). The saddest part, though, is that Mr. Rose isn’t coming back next year đŸ˜„ I did get a picture with him, though:

Me And Mr. Rose

I also got to take a picture with another favorite teacher of all time: Ms. Picone!

Me And Ms. Picone

I’m so happy to be out, although that’s mostly because I’ll have more time to write- I really like school, actually. Anyways, you may see a dramatic increase in posts, or a decrease, too. I can’t tell the future! I’m going to try to post more, but I’m making no promises.

In other news, my Tigers won our first playoff game! And, on top of that, we had a shutout 6-0 against the A’s the previous game. That makes three games that we’ve won! Which, I know, isn’t really a lot, but we beat the best team in the league on Tuesday (the first playoff game)- the Pirates. And just look at the picture I got:

100_1233

See the white streak?

I literally took 281 pictures trying to get the ball in action (like the above picture). I only got it, like, five times, but that’s okay. I have some nice pictures now.

Anyways, I’m off to write. Or, rather, outline. Camp NaNoWriMo doesn’t start for another 11 days. Bye!

-Sam

No Spelling?! No Grammar?!

Hey. If you’re anything like me, you’re silently correcting everyone’s grammar, whether it’s when on the computer, reading the newspaper, or  losing friends because they don’t appreciate the art of proper mechanics.

However, if you’re anything like my brother, you were never taught spelling or grammar until the seventh grade, where your teacher took it upon herself to find space in the curriculum and teach these twelve- and thirteen-year-olds proper usage.

Growing up, I always just assumed Roman (Ro) simply wasn’t grasping the basics of spelling and grammar. But earlier this year, when I saw that he didn’t know when to use a comma (seriously), I stopped and said, “Maybe this isn’t him, because I would think that he’d know how to use a simple comma by now!”

I did some research (a.k.a. asking my mom), and, come to find out, our public school system doesn’t teach spelling and grammar anymore. My mom told me that, and I struggled to comprehend it. How in the world is that even possible?

I remember someone saying that the school didn’t teach it anymore because now everyone uses computers, which have spell check, so, therefore, knowing spelling and grammar isn’t necessary, because the computer does it for you. I think it actually might have been the school itself that said that.

Can I just say something? Spell check doesn’t always know what you’re trying to say. Hell, it almost never does! Half the time, it wants to correct “of” to “on” even when I use it correctly. Also, I type regular words correctly, and it automatically changes them sometimes, confusing me. Another thing is, spell check doesn’t work very well for grammar. Thus the name of “spell” check. It does the basics of grammar, and that’s it. It also messes up a lot.

Personally, I like the look of red pen corrections. They stand out, and you don’t ignore them like you ignore half of the wrong suggestions in Word.

I don’t just blame the schools, though. I also blame the Oxford Dictionary. They added some words to the dictionary that shouldn’t even be used outside of texting! Anyways, if they’re going to do that, they should at least add Bazinga. #AddBazingaOxford

It truly is sad how spelling and grammar are slowly becoming lost arts. They should be necessities. Instead, they’re thrown aside, though of as unimportant because technology can supposedly do it all.

They’re so important, though. I mean, computers can’t talk for you, can they? They can’t make that amazing first impression. And let me tell you, if I were hiring someone, I wouldn’t want them to talk like “they don’t knows nothing” or “rite liek dis” either. Even if you didn’t know how to capitalize or use commas, I probably wouldn’t want you working for me (unless you didn’t have to do any writing at all). I mean, you would represent my company. I wouldn’t want bad grammar and/or spelling to tarnish my company’s name (especially because I wouldn’t be able to be in the same room without going all OCD on you).

My question is, why do people “srsly” (why is there a red line under that?! It’s in the dictionary!) believe that they can get through life without knowing proper usage? There’s just no way! You cannot seriously tell me that you honestly expect that not once in your entire life will you need to know it. You use it every day! When you represent yourself online, employers don’t want to see “som1 who tlks liek thisssss all da tiem” because they know they can get someone who actually knows how to write in English.

Maybe the majority of people in the US should read this….

Any thoughts on this? I can’t be the only one who’s noticed this, but maybe our public school system is the only one to actually believe that? What do you think?

Anyways, this post was written in response to this week’s Weekly Writing Challenge. It said to write about a “lost art” so I thought about spelling and grammar. And, if you comment, please, please, please use proper mechanics and spelling!

-Sam

P.S. As always, the original picture URLs can be found by simply clicking the images. I do not own the images, nor do I pretend to.

Some People….

Hey. So, it finally happened. The moment I’ve been dreading. My classmates have discovered my blog. Not that I wasn’t expecting it. I just don’t know how the hell G1 did it (no, I’m still not using names- I don’t care if my classmates can read this, it’s still on the internet for everyone to see, and it’s not for me to disclose their names). Z said G1 was hanging with a small group of kids before school, looking up all of his friends for fun, and he ended up Google-ing “Samantha Murphy.” Which, by the way, is the name of some singer, and I also think I’ve typed my name all of 3 times on this blog. So I have no freaking clue how he found my blog from those search terms.

But, the thing is, when they found this, they didn’t just go, “Cool, Sam has a blog.” No, they had to tell everyone. And let me tell you, when I say everyone, I mean everyone. I was alerted to this second period by Z, who was like, “So, been on Sammi Talk lately?” Also, I was walking into Chem and I heard G2 saying to my friend M, “…Sam’s failing history….” Which reminds me….

Hey, newsflash for you: that post was written on March 15, 2014. The beginning of 3rd quarter. A lot has changed since then. And I mean a lot. And by the way, just because I was failing history doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I have a genius IQ, in case you skipped that part. I got a higher score than you on the placement exam, and I know that because I got the highest score. Not only that, but my score was the top 1% in the country. So shut up. You know nothing about me (You think I put my life on this blog? Ha! As if!).

Anyways, I don’t really care what everyone thinks. I made this blog knowing some people I know would find it. I just didn’t expect it to be freaking everyone. But, it doesn’t matter. I’m just going to continue on normally. So, the post I probably would’ve written today is below.

I got braces yesterday. They hurt like hell, but no where near as much as last time (yes, I had braces before but didn’t wear my retainer because my orthodontist didn’t tell me anything, including that my teeth would revert back to the way they were if I didn’t wear it). I got navy blue and orange for the colors, for the Detroit Tigers. No, I’m not a fan of the Tigers (Red Sox all the way!), but I was on the Tigers when I played minor league for five years, and this year I’m officially helping coach the team, so I decided to get Tigers colors.

In other news, Burban’s not dead! I know, I know, this required a little back story. Okay, so last night she ate an azalea, which are apparently “moderately toxic” to cats. Needless to say, I was freaking out. I was like “Oh my God what do we do?!” And it turns out, she’s fine. So, that’s good. On a side note, though, she’s getting sooo big. Definitely not the tiny 10-week-old we got in October, although she’s still a kitten.

Alright, that’s it for now. I need to go work on some more of my history fourth quarter project. Bye!

-Sam

P.S. I just want to make it clear that I don’t blame G1 for any of this. He’s a really nice guy, and I know he didn’t mean for it to escalate the way it did. It’s not his fault in any way. Also, Z has no fault in this, either. He was just the messenger. And as Dos would say, don’t shoot the messenger.

I Almost Shook The Hand Of My Dead Classmate’s Father

This past week has been crazy, and not in a good way. Not at all. Crazy as in this-is-something-you-only-hear-about-on-the-news-and-never-think-it’s-gonna-happen-to-you crazy.

Four teenagers got into an accident that resulted in one flipped car, two people injured, and one girl killed. Erika Hall was 16 years old. She’ll never see 17.

I first saw the news on Facebook. I was scrolling through my news feed and my friend’s post caught my eye. It was something about “the town lost another beautiful face RIP Erika” or something like that. I got this sinking feeling in my chest, and though “no, it’s gotta be another Erika.”

But it wasn’t.

I pressed the “Home” button to refresh my news feed. All of a sudden, there’s a bunch more of those posts, one of them tagging Erika Hall. I thought “ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit.” Honestly, I’m surprised I was able to form any thought at all. I began to shake, but clicked on the name. I had to know.

In my heart, I already did.

It was here. My former classmate’s Facebook page. It was tagged in a post about her being dead… I sat next to her for a freaking year in 7th grade! And she was dead. She’s dead. Dead. Erika Hall is dead. I’m waiting for it to actually sink in. I thought typing it a few times would help. It didn’t.

I stared at my computer screen for a few minutes, feeling numb. It felt like forever. I just couldn’t comprehend it. How could she have died? She was supposed to do great things in life! She was so happy, wild and free, a fun person to be around. And she’s gone.

Erika

What do you do in this kind of situation? I think it’s different for everyone. For me, I just slowly act as if nothing happened, hoping that acting this way will make it true.

But it didn’t.

My mom was on Facebook or checking her email or something when she called me down from my room, where I was doing homework. She asked if I knew an Erika Hall. I was just like, yeah, I know, she died. Just like that. I think I regret that the most. Erika deserves more, even if I was delusionally trying to bring her back from the dead.

That was April 26. Fast forward to Wednesday, April 30. My school’s memorial service for her. I spent the first ten minutes of it not there, trying to be nice and not interrupt my teacher. Turns out, all I had to do was give up and walk out. My teacher asked where I was going, I replied “the service” and he nodded.

I wish I’d known that earlier.

I got the service (my friend Christina was with me) to find that the doors to the chapel were already closed. I peeked my head in the office and asked if we could quietly go in. The secretary said she didn’t think so, but we had to ask the vice principal. So we ran to Ms. McGuire’s office, halfway across the school, only to find out that yes, we could in fact go inside. So we ran back to the chapel and quietly sat down at the back.

I didn’t cry until Erika’s dad went up to talk. That was when I lost it. It’s just not fair. Why does he have to live without his daughter? Kids are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around!

He only spoke for about a minute, though. After that, the priest said one short prayer, and then we all migrated into the AAC (Academic Achievement Center, just another name for library) for a power point with a bunch of pictures of Erika. It was beautiful.

It shouldn’t have had to happen.

After the power point was over, her dad thanked everyone for being here. Then he went around to hug everyone.

When he got to me, I was boxed in by Christina, so he reached to shake my hand. I didn’t think about it- I didn’t have to. I stood up and reached over Christina to give him a hug. Something told me Christina wouldn’t mind.

After I hugged him, I sat back down, shaking, and just stared straight ahead. I kept thinking, over and over again, I just hugged my dead friend’s father. It was so peaceful.

I’d trade it in a heartbeat for her to be here.

Even now, thinking about it, I’m shaking a little. It’s crazy. I just, it never should’ve happened. I never should’ve met Erika’s father, because, had she never died, I never would’ve met him. And, also, part of it felt so surreal, it was so weird. I can’t really explain it.

I don’t know why this happened. I just know it shouldn’t have happened. Why should a 16-year-old girl have to die?

She shouldn’t.

But there’s nothing I can do about it now, no matter how much I wish there was. I guess I’ll just have to live with it.

RIP Erika Hall

-Sam