Week Thirteen

This week I lack from inspiration. What I actually want to do right now is curl into a ball and hibernate. SOmetimes I wish I could be a squirrel. Squirrels are cute and smart. They gather their food during spring and then curl into a a furry mass of- hem, fur.
Wouldn't be nice to be a squirrel? I'd be free to jump from tree to tree without being afraid I would break one of my limbs. Every saturday  I would have picnics by the meadow with my squirrel friends. We would eat nuts and all kinds of squirrel-ish stuff. I would also travel all around the world without needing a Visa or a expensive airplane ticket. I would let nature take me whenever she wants.
Yeah, a squirrel's life sounds appealing to me.
-Leslie

Week Twelve

On today's class we discussed what would we change in our lives if we could live them over. It got me thinking. What would I change in my life if I had the chance? Tricky question, isn't it? I mean, most of our lives we spend bawling over all the things we wish we hadn't done, but when people ask us about those things we are speechless.
What would I change in my life?
Maybe buying that expensive horrid shirt I bought long ago. Perhaps watching that movie that gave me nightmares for most of the week. I don't know. All of the sudden I forgot the thousand things I wished I could reverse.
We people are confusing, aren't we? We can't figure out the sense in our lives. As Charlie of 'Perks of being a Wallflower' said, " ...I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be."
I guess that what Charlie was trying to say here is that while we repent of the numerous mistakes we have done in our lives, we still feel somewhat conformable with the life we have driven ourselves. We can't explain that feeling because it is contradictory. Sadness and happiness just don't mix together, right? Still, we manage to feel both of this feelings at the same time.
What would I change in my life?
I would try to be happier and less anxious.
Would I change my life?
I'm not sure. I'm still figuring that out.

See you next week,
-Leslie

Week Eleven

I'll change the thematic this week. Instead of writing about me, I'll post something written by me. It is a short silly composition I made for my writing class. It is really nothing, but I found the story kind of funny. Please, tell me if you like it. I'll really appreciate your constructive critics. So, here it goes.

Rocky life.

Being a rock can be interesting. People say that we are boring and thick because we do nothing more than sit in the same place all day. The truth is that a rock’s life can be very exhausting. During our whole time on earth we see the world change. Kids are born; trees grow and fall; the weather changes; but we stay the same.

 I am a river rock. I spend my days staring at the loud moving water. My favorite hobby is listening to the different sounds that come with the flow. The fallen branches are my favorite. They make funny noises when they crash with my fellow rock friends. They grunt indignant every time one of their tips breaks. Delicate beings those branches!   I also like looking at the fishes. They make cute noises when they speak. It sounds like a ‘Glup! Glup!’ to me, but according to Grandpa Rock it means, “Move, I don’t have breaks!”

We rocks are also good counselors. Wisdom is one of our biggest attributes. Whoever said that dummy people have rock brain, had a head full of seaweed - and believe me, seaweeds REALLY lack from intelligence. Animals all around the world seek for our advice. In my short life I have solved more than fifty marital problems between frogs. And Dude, those frogs can be very irritating folks! They complain just about anything. “He ate all the flies!”, “I need time to myself and she won’t give it to me!” If someone paid me a penny for every frog problem, I would be rich.

So, dear reader friend think twice before you complain about the rock that was inside your shoe. Imagine the trauma the poor dear experienced after smelling its interior. We rocks are not handsome, but we are great pals. If someday someone needs a good ear, find a rock; we will always be here.  

I know it seems to be written by a first grade schooler, but I'm really proud of my job here, for some unexplainable reason. 

So, did you like it? I'll be waiting for your posts

-Leslie

PD// If I find out that someone plagiarized my  idea, I will sue him. 

Week Ten

I cant' believe that vacations are almost over. I won't lie and deny that I'm currently feeling beyond depressed. I don't want to go back to school! I mean, it is not like I don't want anything to do with it, is just that I don't want to wake up early again! It feels so nice to wake up and find that you can sleep two more hours. So, please tell me, why do good things have to end so soon? It is just that I find it so annoying when all  the boring stuff takes forever to be over. Like the time I was sitting on a hard plastic chair listening to the weather man giving a two hour speech about rain and precipitation and all that weatherly stuff. The man talked so slowly that for a perturbing moment I was positive I was going to grow roots.
On the other side, there is also the time I ate my first Gelato. According to people Gelato contains more sugar than regular ice cream, which of course makes it more appealing to a sugar deprived child like me. I remember taking the first spoonful. It was like eating a piece of a rainbow. Sugary. Creamy. Heavenly. I can't remember which flavor I ate, but I do remember how fast it went down my throat. It took me like five spoonfuls and then-Poof! it was over. I licked and double-licked the paper cup, but not even a small sample of my delicious threat was left to enjoy. I felt so upset, I had to work hard on stopping myself from crying because gelato was after all not the cheapest dessert I've eaten in my life.
So this is a question I have asked my self all my life: Is there a middle? I mean, if good things go fast and bad things go slow there should be a middle stage.  For example, if people make me listen to them and their murderously boring speeches, I should be rewarded with a big yummy cup of Ice Cream, so while I'm sitting hopelessly, I can have something that keeps me sane. This way both sides win. People have their audience and I have my threat. Everyone is happy. I don't know, but I think this should be really considered as a possible new philosophy. I even named it: Leslie's Philosophy. Awesome name, huh?
So this is what crosses my mind.
I'm aware that this week's post was a bit short. But I honestly don't want you to loose your time in nonsense. I'm kind of suffering from writer's block here. Forgive me for my lack of eloquence.  I hope that by next week I will find the cure for this disease.
 Do you have any advise? Anything will be well received.
See you next week,
-Leslie

Week Nine

I’m not sure where to start. This week was kind of insane.  I spent most of my time waiting for Friday to come. You see, on Friday I finally had the chance to look at my grades. It was such an amazing relief to find out that I had not flunked biology. Man, I was jumping up and down when I saw my grade. For a moment I believed that the highest grade I could aspire for was a seventy, but no. Miraculously I got a 91! Cool, huh? Right now, I’m currently waiting for the cuticles of my right hand to grow again.  

Also, on Friday we started “Semana Santa” ’s vacations.  Dude, did I need a break. Sure, I still have to work on a pile of assessments and homework, but at least I get the chance to sleep ‘till late- well, kind of. The not so shiny side of all this is that I have to spend my lazy afternoons working at my mom’s library.

Recently, mom opened this teeny tine little place with school supplies and stuff like that. She is all excited about it. For years, I’ve heard her wishing for her own business; but with us moving to other places it was kind of hard. Now that we are finally settled, she opened her library. It is cool. I’m happy for her. There is a glint of excitement in her eyes that I hadn’t seen for years. She says that with her library she will finally be able to stay at home. The truth is that since I was young, mom hasn’t been able to stay at home most of the afternoons because of her job.   I don’t blame mom for working so hard. We are four sisters and from experience I know that girls can be REALLY expensive. What I actually regret is that my younger sisters didn’t have the chance to be with mom as much as I did when I was their age. So, even if I get annoyed by sitting all day waiting for customers to buy sheets of paper or pencils, mom’s hopeful face keeps me from groaning whenever she asks me to take care of her business.

Right now, I’m writing from the Ant’s library. There is no internet, so I will have to copy and paste what I’ve just written. Ugh, what I do for my parents; but in the end, I guess that sitting here is the least I can do for their sacrifices.

I just cross my fingers so someone else, apart from a pizza or strawberry seller can walk through the door.  I need clients; so, if someone needs something for school and want it cheap just contact me. Write a comment or something. I don’t care. Just make sure you are in the American continent; else, your bad my friend.,

Keep gorgeous.

Leslie.