Vacations Week 1

First Week:
On the first week of vacations, I went to a Quinceaños and it was quite cool... The next day I felt tired, very tired. I didn't do much else this week, but I did go to Michael's house one day. Other than sleeping and playing video games (Skyrim) I also went to the mall a couple of times and also to the movies. I'm still looking forward to Christmas though, I expect alot of gifts and family time that day.

Fart...

          It happens every time! But I do admit that it is my fault why… Every time it smells bad or nasty the blame is on me (it is not a surprise anymore though, I just act like it wasn’t me). Any time that my family and I are in the car or in an elevator (or any other enclosed area) the urge comes to me! Maybe there’s something wrong with my body or maybe it’s just the food I eat… but they smell horrible I have to say.

This once when we were in the car on a Sunday evening coming back from a restaurant (that I don’t remember the name of) the urge to fart was so strong that I couldn’t hold it for more than 2 minutes or so… when I couldn’t keep it for much longer I decided to let it out slow so it wouldn’t make any noise and I could blame it on the bay that smells really bad too (we were driving at the Cinta Costera on the moment). As I did so, my parents knew exactly what had happened and who had done it, they always know when I fart… they also blame it on me when I don’t actually fart.

Fart...

It happens every time! But I do admit that it is my fault why… Every time it smells bad or nasty the blame is on me (it is not a surprise anymore though, I just act like it wasn’t me). Any time that my family and I are in the car or in an elevator (or any other enclosed area) the urge comes to me! Maybe there’s something wrong with my body or maybe it’s just the food I eat… but they smell horrible I have to say.

This once when we were in the car on a Sunday evening coming back from a restaurant (that I don’t remember the name of) the urge to fart was so strong that I couldn’t hold it for more than 2 minutes or so… when I couldn’t keep it for much longer I decided to let it out slow so it wouldn’t make any noise and I could blame it on the bay that smells really bad too (we were driving at the Cinta Costera on the moment). As I did so, my parents knew exactly what had happened and who had done it, they always know when I fart… they also blame it on me when I don’t actually fart.

Memoir Monday: Stop Worrying, Start Chillin

Memoir Monday

            When I heard that my Dad was getting an operation I was quite concerned and worried about what could happen and if something could go wrong. As I was told more and more information, my worries kept rising… it turned even worse when my mom started talking to me with these complicated medical terms that I knew little about, like gallbladder for example.

            “Francisco, no hagas planes para estes viernes, que tu papa va a estar cansado,” Mom alleged to me across the dinner table.

            “Ok, Mama. Me voy a quedar en la casa entonces,” I answered back and stood up from my chair.

            Agh! I know I’m supposed to be helpful and all… but I really wanted to go out this Friday! I walked back to my room kind of stomping like a small kid on the long Persian rug that covers the marble floor on the hallway… hope my mom didn’t see me though.

            When I got to my room, I sat on the black couch that’s right in front of my television; I wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone… my mind was blank and empty except for one word… operation. I tried to keep my mind of the subject but it was useless, everything I thought of ended in the same thing, operation.  When I had had enough, I went over to my dad so we could talk.

            “Dad, can you tell me exactly what they’re going to do to you?” I demanded with a serious expression.

            “Ok, they’re going to take out my gallbladder and some other stuff… why? Are you worried?” He answered all suave.

            “No…” I lied and went back to my room.

            I threw myself against my bed and threw my socks to the floor. Why should I worry? Not even my dad seems to be upset or concerned… I guess it’s just me then. I focused on Facebook and on my television to make my mind not think about the operation anymore… but it came back to me when I stumbled upon a picture of a doctor on Google images.

            I looked over to my right in order to see what time it was, 9:45 my clock read. Since I couldn’t stop thinking about it, I just went to sleep so I could forget of everything, but first I thought of how my dad wasn’t even worried about the operation… I seriously need to stop taking things so seriously, life’s too short to worry too much.

The Catcher in the Rye... Still Relevant Today?

The Catcher in the Rye… Still Relevant Today?

            The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger is an infamous book known all around the world, usually when a book is famous it is because many people have read it, but this one is also famous for been recalled as one of the books that has been banned the most. Within the pages of this book lay scenarios displaying “vulgar and obscene language’, drunkenness, prostitution, delinquency and references to sex it has also been accused of being: ‘anti-white’ (1963-Columbus, Ohio) (Chasan 2). After this been said, it is quite obvious that The Catcher in the Rye is not a book for children of small ages therefore it can only be read with a certain level of maturity coming from the reader. The Catcher in the Rye may not be an affable book to many of those who have heard of it or even read it, but it is still a coming of age book that I personally believe must be read with care and responsibility to analyze its pages in order to gain further understanding of the message J.D. Salinger was trying to transmit through the pages of the book. As a reader, I believe it is a must read, even in these times of terrorism and delinquency since a book doesn’t simply lose its meaning with time; yes, it still is relevant to this times.

            If one does right to read the book and analyze it carefully, one will get the message, but if one doesn’t read the book and analyze it carefully, one will not get the message whatsoever. I feel that the book must continue to be read because it shows the struggle of a young adult, sixteen year old Holden Caulfield struggling with his life without any direction to turn to in his existence. As I read, there were many things Holden did that I found strange and confusing since he not only lived in different times, but he was also alone in the streets of New York City. As time passed, I continued to gain different insights into Holden’s life and what he was thinking of doing next. An element that rose from the book or from my understanding of the book, is that one should always forge connections to other persons so you are never left alone like Holden was. It also concurred to me that the world is full of “phonies” just like Holden says.

            I think that as a teenager myself, all teenagers can distinguish something they can relate to in the course of Holden and the fact that he thinks of everyone as phonies. However, Holden eventually realizes that human relationships are very important and that they are worth the sacrifice of isolation. I say this is an accurate feeling that most teenagers can relate to. I believe that as a teenager, we are simultaneously repulsed and drawn to the adult world, and that this book vividly displays this conflict. Therefore, I have no more to say other than that this book should continue to be taught to teenagers, in an instructive manner.

            Even though this book has been banned in many places for its obscene language and explicit content, I believe that it is a very good book for young adults and teenagers because it is a coming of age novel. If I hadn’t read this book, I wouldn’t be aware of all the things that could happen if I went the wrong way with my life, but since I read it and analyzed it, I am now aware of the many things that can be avoided easily if one is careful enough to see them come before they strike.

            In all I believe that The Catcher in the Rye is still relevant to this times and will continue to be relevant throughout the future as more and more teenagers will continue to read it. Even though it has many obscene and vulgar scenarios, it teaches young adults that one must form strong connections with the people around you so you are never left alone without any hope; it also teaches many other things throughout its course that teach values to teenagers. I really enjoyed reading the book as for it will be one of my favorite coming of age novels, I also recommend it to all the teenagers who have it at their disposal.

Book Review: The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

Memoir Summary: The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

In the memoir, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes is an infamous British detective obviously known for being good at cracking and solving mysteries. Alongside with his partner, Watson, they work to solve and unravel every and any cases citizens find themselves stumbling upon. Throughout the story, Sherlock and Watson help desperate citizens with problems or situations they do not fully comprehend and suffer from.

The story is told from Watson's point of view. Watson is an elegant, smart British doctor who serves as Sherlock's friend, as aforementioned, partner, and flat mate. John H. Watson, was born on the 7^th of July in the year 1852, he is mostly known as Dr. Watson. Watson is described to have a strong build; it is believed this is so because he was a former athlete in a rugby team. Before Watson and Sherlock met, Watson served in the British army as Assistant Surgeon for the army’s medical department in Afghanistan, but later, he was dispatched because he sustained injuries in battle—  his shoulder and his leg; the leg injury explains why he is described to have a limp and carries a cane with him everywhere he goes. Although Watson’s history is well noted, Holmes’ is not as well documented, I find this bizarre because in my opinion, Sherlock does more of the work out of the two and is also more renown, the known information about Sherlock is only that he was born in the year 1854, but even his exact birthdate wasn’t specified. He is described as bohemian to his lifestyle and habits. Watson also says that Holmes is an eccentric man. They are quite the opposite in some ways, even though he is very smart and an analytical machine he is somewhat stubborn... Not in a bad way though, in a dangerous way. By this I mean that he won't give up a case even if it's completely impossible to unravel. It is also said by Watson, that Holmes takes use of cocaine when he does not have any stimulating cases; Holmes states that cocaine stimulates his brain when it is not in use.

Many times in the course of events Sherlock and Watson found themselves stuck with a case that wouldn't seem to be going anywhere, but at the end they managed to find truth behind it. An example of this situation could be their first adventure, Silver Blaze. In this adventure they were requested by Colonel Ross which is the owner of a horse called Silver Blaze- Silver Blaze is racehorse that has won the Wessex Cup 5 times consecutively- the case says that Silver Blaze was stolen from his training stable, but it is not known by whom... When the facts where all delivered to Sherlock and Watson, they thought deeply about it but could not come to any possible conclusion without looking deeper into the timeline of events that occurred the night Silver Blaze was kidnapped. When they got all the facts together they managed to come to a conclusion, they had agreed that the horse had kicked the kidnapper that had already taken the horse out into the fields, after the horse had done this, it had fled and arrived at a neighbor’s house where it was taken care of while they figured whose it belonged to. This is just an example where Sherlock and Watson were stuck with a case that didn't seem to go anywhere, at least for a while.

After Watson and Sherlock continued to solve cases together, an odd visitor appeared at their door in their 221B Baker Street residence. It was a desperate man in urgent needs of Watson’s and Sherlock’s assistance. This man was called Mr. Grant Munro and he had come to Sherlock and Watson because he was very worried about his wife. The facts about the case were that Mr. Munro’s wife had being sneaking out of their house in order to go to another house that was previously uninhabited. Whenever Mr. Munro would walk by the house, he would see a yellow face staring at him all the way from the second floor of the suspicious house. When he had had enough, he made his wife promise that she wouldn’t go there again because he didn’t like for there to be any secrets between them both… but that same night, her wife had sneaked out of the house. It appears that all this had happened the day before Mr. Munro had gone to Sherlock’s residence. When Sherlock and Watson had gotten enough time to elaborate on the case, they had come to the conclusion that maybe Mr. Munro’s wife’s ex-husband who was supposedly dead might be living there. A day later, Mr. Munro sent a wire to the Holmes residence, Sherlock and Watson went over to Mr. Munro’s residence right away. Angry and frustrated, Mr. Munro, Holmes, and Watson infiltrated the suspicious house only to find that Mr. Munro’s wife was there with an African-American child, she immediately confessed that it was her daughter from her ex-husband and that she was only wearing a yellow mask so Mr. Munro would not see her skin color. To Mrs. Munro’s surprise, Mr. Munro did not dislike the child; he actually took the child in as his own. Even though the case wasn’t really a serious one, Sherlock and Watson still enjoyed solving it together.

As more events and cases took place, my character, Watson started realizing that he doesn’t feel comfortable working without Sherlock Holmes because it is easier for both of them to work together. He comes to realize that he is the ordinary man and Holmes is an emotionally-detached analytical machine, they are both completely the opposite and make the perfect detective pair.

As for the title, I believe it was named this way because the book has a lot of different memoirs in it that tell of the moments were Sherlock and Watson were solving cases. I didn’t find any other meaning regarding to the title since it is quite simple, “The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes”. The content of the book was organized by adventures; Arthur Conan Doyle decided to make each chapter have an adventure. Within each adventure there was always a case for Sherlock and Watson to solve.

As I began to read this book in class one day, I thought it was very interesting and I found it very intriguing… this is so because I have always liked books that have both a mystery and still get to have adventure in them. I think that it was a very good read for me because it caught my eye in many different ways, for example, I really found it bright for Arthur Conan Doyle to make each adventure in the book more and more mind blowing than the one before it, this way I would be reeled in to keep reading more and more of it without getting bored at all. Some of the lines I loved in the book where this once when Sherlock and Watson were discussing how to act upon a case and Sherlock simply just said “You know my methods, Watson”. This line told me that Sherlock and Watson were so close together that they didn’t really need to consult the things they do. The second one I really liked also was during the second adventure- The Yellow Face- when Watson said “Any truth is better than indefinite doubt”, because it made me think about it over and over again, I thought that it was very smart of him to say that because it is actually true to me.

Overall, it is a very good book and a very well written memoir for experienced teens and people of all ages that like to read books that take a while to understand. I recommend it because it is very interesting and it takes some time to fully understand the things that happen while Sherlock and Watson solve cases.

Sleepy Hollow: Odd Darkness

Francisco Perez-Salamero                                                                   Perez-Salamero 1    Mrs. Meadows
English G/H
25 October 201
 
                                                         Sleepy Hollow
 

             "Well, Mrs. Tassel thanks for the food and the shelter. Make sure Katrina studies her novels so her marks rise." I looked back as I closed the old wooden door behind me.
 
             "I'll make sure she does, Mr. Crane. Thank you for staying. I hope you found our land affable," Mrs. Tassel answered coldly; I think she took my words amiss... but, boy   did they have a lot of land and riches.
 
            Feeling quite despondent of myself, thoughts from my failures to attract Katrina last night at the dinner table with the Tassels haunted me as I made my way through the interminable passage leading back to center and most populated part of Tarry Town... Unlike the reclusive farmland the Tassels own, the only other place you’ll ever find sage is at the border of the Hudson. As easy as it was to spot the sun in the sky, it was as easy to hear Brom Bones’ horse galloping behind me a few yards away, what does he want now? I wondered.  

             “Hey! Crane! ” He yelled at me impelling his horse to get in my way. Even though he seemed quite tidy and appealing, he was somewhat irascible to me. “I saw you leaving Katrina’s house! Didn’t I make it clear enough that it’s going to be me and her? Not you,”

            “Can we please do this another time? Please? You interrupted my profound moment of thought,” I entreated.

            “Ok, just this once,” He spat at me and fled. His manners are just so abhorrent to me.

            Finally reaching the schoolhouse, I prepare my plans for the students to study and be quizzed on Thursday… Knock… Knock…

            “Yes? Who is it?” I curiously asked from inside.

            “Mail,” the voice outside answered.

            “Slip it under the door please,” I earnestly said.

            Deliver to Ichabod Crane. It said on the front flap of the cream envelope written with good dark handwriting. An invitation maybe, from who may this be? Without any care at all I ripped open the cream envelope to find a cordial and formal invitation to the Tassel’s house on Saturday evening. They didn’t mention any of this at the house.

            It was now Saturday and I had a place to be at, a party. With high expectations of the upcoming evening I was meant to be at, I picked out the most appropriate clothes for me to wear. I borrowed a horse to serve me as transport to Katrina’s house whose name was Gunpowder, he was blind of one eye and quite old to still be alive. Even though they tried to make him look strong and resistant, his tremulous hind legs looked a bit skinny for a horse and quite right for a deer.

            I arrived at the party to find myself surrounded by men looking far worse than I did; I guess I’m the better man. As I tried to make an approach at Katrina, she turns around and unmistakably rejects me and possibly even my being there. I hurry out the door and untie Gunpowder from the wooden stable.

            “Well, so much for an invitation I was probably not even meant to receive by the looks of it,” I talk to myself and go into a tirade.

            Pacing slowly through the somewhat odd darkness of the night, I find things to be a bit quieter than I expected, but that’s probably me just being crazy. Trying to ignore myself through what’s left of the way back home, I reach Major Andre’s tree which is said to be haunted but it’s not the tree what got me so scared, behind the tree and looming around was a large and dark figure… It can’t be! Those are just legends and myths! I didn’t even have a single drink at the party! But it was now true what was now chasing me through the pitch-black woods of the Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman. After having reverberated the simple question of “who goes there” the dark figure sped towards me in the intents of who knows what. The last thing I remember before I was hit by a flying head torn from its body was a headless horseman throwing me one. Lucky me he only haunts those at Sleepy Hollow since that is just a place I’ll never be at again.

Drums, Girls, and Dangerous Pie Reflection

Francisco PS

                                                                                    October 3, 2011

                                                                                                                     

Reflection: Drums, Girls, and Dangerous Pie

           

Since the book “Drums Girls and Dangerous Pies” by Jordan Sonnenblick was recommended to me, I could tell there had to be something good in it because after reading the first couple of chapters I could actually relate to the story. This is because he was facing the same things a normal teenager would struggle with. The stories main character Steven is having trouble with the normal teenage problems like homework, grades, parents and many more until it so happened that a single car ride to the hospital would turn his world into chaos, his little brother Jeffrey was diagnosed with a shocking case of leukemia. I can sort of understand and feel what he is going through because it could happen to anybody you know.

Even though the title is very simple, by reading it I could tell what the book may be about without having to judge it by its cover the, but as I started getting deeper into the book, it has a deeper meaning; you just have to dig a little bit deeper. Since the book is titled “Drums, Girls and Dangerous Pies”, as I read it came clear to me that these were the thing that established a connection between Steven and Jeffrey other than being brother. Jeffrey highly looks up to Steven like a little brother would normally do, that’s why the book is titled this way, because Jeffrey looks up to Steven drumming, doesn’t really look up to his skills with girls, and together they invented a mixture of un-edible ingredients which they later called dangerous pie.

One thing that did surprise me was the way the author would give away reasons to why someone in this situation would just be torn apart in millions of directions sitting down and sobbing while the people surrounding you help you stand back up and continue through your struggle. At almost the very ending I started to think that Jeffrey would die since cancer is such a tough thing to deal with, especially since he was a little kid.

Now that I have finished this excellent book I believe that it will forever remain in my consciousness since it gave so much to things to value and think about in life. I am definitely willing to say that “Drums Girls & Dangerous pies” is for sure one of the best books I have ever read if one ever dares not to value the things he gets that might yet not seem so important at one time but could then mean the world to you and those around you.

Left Handed Glove

Left Handed Glove

Taking a deep breath and walking back from what I had done, I sit down and sob in my own misery. It was raining both inside and outside, my hand was dripping blood and the sky was falling apart- so was I. Matt was only eleven! He was smart, athletic, funny and friendly… why is it only a tan, worn, old, and used mitt that I get to keep from him, why? I remember walking into his dark room one night after eating some crunchy New York pizza, he had the glove in front of him and a green pen clasped into his left hand. “What are you doing, Matt?” I asked him. He did not answer me back; he just lifted a large book titled “Famous Authors and Poems”. I walked over to him and looked at the mitt that was once Frank Colman’s, he was a New York outfielder for the 1946 New York Yankees team. I got the mitt from him when he was signing autographs at a sporting goods store. Matt had used green ink to write over the fingers and the pocket of the mitt, he was writing down his favorite poems on it.

“Why are you doing this?” I grabbed his shoulders and looked down into the mitt.

“I get pretty bored when no one is batting. So I decided it would be better if I had something to read instead of just standing there in the blazing sun,” I remembered him say.

Unfortunately, death has taken Matt from me; I still have a hole in my heart, one I will never be able to seal as long as I live. He died from leukemia when we were visiting up at Maine on the summer of 1946, the 8^th of July. Even though he was two years younger than me, he was many times smarter than I was. Teachers would write my mom home saying how nice it was to have him in class, that’s how smart he was. So they say that people with redhead get mad often but no, he never got mad at anyone. Actually, he was the nicest member in my family. The mitt was his most valued possession; I think he would have wanted for me to keep it. He never told me why he had written this specific poem called “Bond and Free” by Robert Frost right in the middle of the glove, the poem went like this:

Love has earth to which she clings 

With hills and circling arms about— 

Wall within wall to shut fear out. 

But Thought has need of no such things, 

For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

 

On snow and sand and turf, I see 

Where Love has left a printed trace 

With straining in the world’s embrace. 

And such is Love and glad to be. 

But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

 

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom 

And sits in Sirius’ disc all night, 

Till day makes him retrace his flight, 

With smell of burning on every plume, 

Back past the sun to an earthly room.

 

His gains in heaven are what they are. 

Yet some say Love by being thrall 

And simply staying possesses all 

In several beauty that Thought fares far 

To find fused in another star.”

I can only guess this was his favorite poem, since I could definitely see his lips moving to the words of the poem as we played catch or fooled around. I take the mitt everywhere I can, it makes me feel closer to the memories I still hold of Matt. Whenever I look at it I don’t put it on, it makes me feel like it doesn’t belong to me in some way but I still don’t think Frank Colman’s glove will fit my hand when I stand at 6’2 and Frank stands at 5’11 according to my baseball card. Even though its being three years from his death now, I still feel like I just got the news from his death… devastated, as if something was ripped away from me. The only thing that makes me feel better is the old mitt; he used to play with it every day at the ball park whenever it was not raining, surprisingly the green ink would not wash away, not even to this day.

Historic Letter

Dear Edward Fox,

It has been too long since we have last talked. I have many things to tell you, to start with there is something imperative I must say, we have arrived at unknown lands, this as I see it is not the settlement of Virginia. Unfortunately, my disposition to argue with the captain has brought me upon the title of a prisoner. I do not know for how long my freedom will be kept away from me.
                    The spontaneous growth of our new settlement has been quite thriving. There are many forests and woods that encompass the colony which are full of animals to hunt, even though I am held as a prisoner I get a share of the food. Last night it seems the captain has forgiven me for my behavior and extricated me from captivity, I instilled that I would work and support the colony with all my efforts for a better life.
                     About the religious freedom, it has been very successful. Our supply of crops have derived from our prayers, it seems to be working, our methods. Every time I pray, memories of my good life in England evoke in my mind, but they do vanish when I remember the King’s guile toward us the Separatists.
                    Oh, I am sorry to not have written to you earlier, a rare sickness is prevalent among men, it is pervading quickly. They really seem to be suffering and it is my duty to help them, it is for the general good of the colony for me to do so. Well, enough about me. How is your life faring? Has King James continued his endeavors to hunt us, the Separatists down? I conjecture that his efforts have been turbulent and that he will stop. If you hear any rumors, please write me back.
 
                                                                                                                                    Yours,
                                                                                                                                              Marco Goyle

Night of Secrecy

Night of Secrecy

           

It’s being days now that I’ve noticed James looking deeply into my eyes, what is this about? Should I ask him?

            “Is there something you might want to ask me? Is something wrong? I’ve noticed a bit of secrecy from you, James,” I asked gingerly. I can derive from his behavior that he is up to something…

            “No sir. There is currently nothing wrong,” he answered boldly and at the same time placed a silver tray clad by a white mantelpiece protecting it from abrasion.

            “I will be at my chamber, goodnight James,” In a cursory manner I stood up from the dining table and made my way back to my chamber.

            As I entered the long and extensive chamber I took a quick inventory of my possessions, I will not succumb to think that James is not up to something, I can frankly surmise that someone has been using my lantern. In need for some fresh air, I once again left my chamber; James was nowhere to be seen. I went out to the balcony and examined my plants, they were all dehydrated and faltering, I guess James has not been doing his work… a drop of rain and the flash of lighting electrified the night, it’s time to sleep.

            Making my way back again to my chamber, my curiousness reached its climax, I stopped walking and walked on to James’s room, it was closed and the door was tight shut and locked. My endeavor to try and hear a single sound or noise coming from his room was successful, I could hear him talking, not talking but more like mumbling words I could not make out. I heard footsteps and scurried back on the way to my chamber- “Sir, is there anything you need?” He said to me. He knew I was trying to eavesdrop, this corroborates that he was there for saying something he did not want for me to hear or be a part of. I did not answer.

            As soon as he went back into his room, I went back into mine and quickly simulated sleep. A few hours into the turbulent night I heard him walking, his steps drew in closer and closer as time went by.  I fell into deep sleep where I dreamed, a gruesome dream which ended when a faint ray of light hit my eye, what is this about?

            It was all seconds from been explained, it all happened in a blink. It was my lantern the one that shined upon me, the one that revealed the grimace upon a man’s face I thought I knew, James… the last face I ever saw.

Day 1

                                                        August 11th

Day 1       

                Today was a normal school day, classes were as they usually are and the day went by kind of quick… well since its Wednesday it’s a shorter day so probably that’s why it felt quicker. Other than regular school work I accidentally messed up my schedule and went to Spanish class instead of going to math… lucky me Mrs. Culberson understood what had happened and excused my tardy. Well, enough about today, how was your day? :D