Essays
Tests
College\University applications
Scholarship Applications..
GRAD acticities...
things to do as a gr.12 student start to pile on me...........................
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Saturday, November 05, 2005
You Know You Live In 2005 When . . .
You Know You Live In 2005 When . . .
[1.] You accidentally enter your password on a microwave.
[2.] You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.
[3.] The real reason for not staying in touch with your friends is that they don't have a screen name.
[4.] You'd rather look all over the house for the remote instead of just pushing to button on the .T.V.
[6.] You read this list, and keep nodding and smiling.
[7.] As you read this list, you think about sending it to all your friends.
[8.] And.. you were too busy to notice number 5.
[9.] You actually scrolled back up to check that there was no number 5.
[10.] And now you're laughing at your stupidity. Pass this on if you fell for it... copy and paste.
[1.] You accidentally enter your password on a microwave.
[2.] You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.
[3.] The real reason for not staying in touch with your friends is that they don't have a screen name.
[4.] You'd rather look all over the house for the remote instead of just pushing to button on the .T.V.
[6.] You read this list, and keep nodding and smiling.
[7.] As you read this list, you think about sending it to all your friends.
[8.] And.. you were too busy to notice number 5.
[9.] You actually scrolled back up to check that there was no number 5.
[10.] And now you're laughing at your stupidity. Pass this on if you fell for it... copy and paste.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Busy Week..............
September
-> Physics Quiz -> 27
-> Physics Assignment -> 29
-> Physic Test -> 30
-> Math Test on Conics -> 30
-> Grade 12 Goal Sheet -> End of September
-> Check for scholarships -> N/A
-> CAPP 12 "Updated" resume -> end of September/October
=================================================
Word of the Day
banal \BAY-nul; buh-NAL; buh-NAHL (British)\, adjective:Commonplace; trivial; hackneyed; trite.
Perhaps it's just the arrogant, knowing way in which reporters ask the most banal of questions. --Alfred Alcorn, Murder in the Museum of Man
How does the poet transform his banal thoughts (are not most thoughts banal?) into such stunning forms, into beauty? --Joyce Carol Oates, "Speaking of Books: The Formidable W.B. Yeats," New York Times, September 7, 1969
All that her late companions can draw from her is the banal declaration, that she "never knew what happiness was before." --New Monthly Magazine, LIX. 458, 1840
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Palindrome
An interesting Word........
From dictionary.com
From dictionary.com
palindrome (PAL-uhn-drohm), [n.]: a word or phrase that reads the same backward as forward
A few examples:
- "Madam, I'm Adam." (Adam's first words to Eve?)
- "A man, a plan, a canal--Panama!" (The history of the Panama Canal in brief)
- "Able was I ere I saw Elba." (Napoleon's lament)
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
Sep 16 ----------------------
September
-> Accounting Review Day -> 19
-> Accounting Unit 1 Test -> 20
-> Math Unit Test -> 21
-> English Practice X-Grade Coming....
-> Grade 12 Goal Sheet -> End of September
-> Check for scholarships -> N/A
-> CAPP 12 "Updated" resume -> end of September/October
-> Accounting Review Day -> 19
-> Accounting Unit 1 Test -> 20
-> Math Unit Test -> 21
-> English Practice X-Grade Coming....
-> Grade 12 Goal Sheet -> End of September
-> Check for scholarships -> N/A
-> CAPP 12 "Updated" resume -> end of September/October
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
September 14 -----
September
-> Math Quiz -> 14
-> Physics Quiz -> 15
-> Math Unit Test -> 20????
-> Grade 12 Goal Sheet -> End of September
-> Check for scholarships -> N/A
-> CAPP 12 "Updated" resume -> end of September/October
-> Math Quiz -> 14
-> Physics Quiz -> 15
-> Math Unit Test -> 20????
-> Grade 12 Goal Sheet -> End of September
-> Check for scholarships -> N/A
-> CAPP 12 "Updated" resume -> end of September/October
Saturday, September 10, 2005
中国人和日本人在BBS里的表现
中国人和日本人在BBS里的表现
wty3141 发表于 2005.07.25 22:43 阅读次数 3,760
（作者似乎是榕树下的，我有点忘了－－threef.cata注）
1、在中国论坛里，20岁的年轻人居多，30以上就被叫做老野了。
在日本论坛里，30岁-40岁的人居多，50以上才算老野。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――
因此，在论坛里，中国人和日本人辩论会比较吃亏。
因为年轻人阅历毕竟有限，很多事情还不知道该如何去表达出来。
2、日本人厌恶乱发新贴，喜欢顶旧贴，同一类的问题，希望在一个贴里就说清楚。
日本人很有耐心将一个长长的贴，从头到尾看完。
中国人喜欢发新贴，厌恶顶旧贴，一个话题，讨论两次就腻了，没有耐心去认真阅读发过的贴子。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
说明日本人做事情比较认真，也比较死板。
而中国人对新事物的注意力转移非常快，同时显示中国人比较浮躁一点。
3、中国人上网为的是娱乐，大多数看信息，看看就好，看过就算，回复也是简简单单应付了事。
日本人上网抱着学习的心态，认真的阅读，认真的回复，有时候为了回答一个问题，用几天的时间去查阅资料，即使是日本女性，也不会简单说“哦”！
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
曾经，为了要驳日本人，我花了一个月时间去重新学习中国历史，实际上在这个过程中，自己受益颇多。
4、日本人缺乏幽默感，你问什么，他就回答什么，日本人似乎不知道什么叫“反讽”。
中国人回复什么问题都可能会用幽默或者反讽的方式。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
我曾经问一个网名叫“英机”的日本人
“你第一次做爱是什么时候？”
他老老实实的回答说：“是16岁的时候。”
然后有补充说：“拜托你不要告诉别人”。
我回复他说：“好的，我不告诉别人你16岁就不是处男了”。
5、当辩论不过的时候，中国人会有两种表现，在友好讨论的前提下，虚心认输。如果是在争吵的前提下，就破口大骂。
辩论不过的时候，日本人同样也有两种表现，在友好讨论的前提下，虚心认输，表示钦佩。在争吵的前提下，给你的贴下病毒，并且死不承认。
――――――――――――――――――――――
日本人其实比中国人要坏，是小国寡民，敢做不敢当。
***，我被一种叫做“女性内衣”的日本病毒整过两次。
后来装上正版的杀毒软件，才敢继续上日本论坛。
6、中国人辩论的时候，常从感情的角度出发，带有人文色彩，爱讲大道理。
日本人辩论，从细微的角度入手，实在讲不过就转移话题。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
如果辩论到一定程度，对方走了，中国人不会介意，走就走罗，下次继续。
而日本人会补充一句：“你逃跑了”？
所以跟日本人辩论完以后，不要马上离开，等他们说完这句话，贬他两句再走。
7、日本人尊重老野，认为老野说话有内涵、有道理、有分量。
中国人嘲笑老野，认为老野过时、迂腐、老土。
――――――――――――――――――――
我是老野，嘿嘿。
8、中国论坛里，中国人不敢骂中国ZF。
日本论坛里，日本人不敢骂日本天皇。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――
曾经有个日本人挑衅的问我：“你敢不敢骂中国ZF”？
我回答说：“如果你敢骂日本天皇性无能，我就敢骂”。
结果我们两个都很心虚。
如果他敢骂日本天皇性无能，搞不好日本黑社会（右翼）会去杀他全家。
而如果我骂中国政府的话，“嘿嘿”！
9、中国人很在乎自己的名字，哪怕是网名，也希望是独一无二的，不喜欢冒充别人，因此有很多创意。
日本人不在乎自己的名字，简单、大众化的就好，经常出现日本人冒充中国人的现象。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
“。”这个句号是一个日本人的网名，有趣吧。
“通りすがりの？士”是日本人喜欢用的网名，意思是“路过的绅士”。
实际上，用这个名字的日本人，真实的身份是一头猪。
10、中国人在伊拉克在被抓为人质，所有中国人都希望政府尽力营救，并同情出国赚钱的而遭遇不幸的中国人。
日本人在伊拉克被抓为人质，被砍头，大部分日本人会埋怨这个日本人给国家添了麻烦，认为他被砍头是他自己的事情，不值得同情。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
中国人移居国外是很正常的事情，几千年如此，因为文化的纽带，中国人依然把移居国外的华人华侨当作自己人。而日本人的国家集体意识很强，凡损坏国家形象的，就是错的，社会环境和社会舆论制造出这样的氛围，个人必须服从集体。
11、在中国BBS里，如果有个中国人错了，其他一些中国人会豪不客气的指出来，分歧严重的时候，甚至会互相谩骂，总之谁也说服不了谁。。
在日本BBS里，如果有个日本人错了，通常别的日本人会小心翼翼的去指正他，然后那个人会很快道歉，然后大家放弃分歧，重新团结在一起。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
日本人团结是因为生存需要，是一种本能，从面积和资源上来说，日本是个小国，如果不团结的话，在残酷的世界竞争中会被淘汰。
而中国就不一样了，我们整天说自己“地大物博”，即使不团结，自己去别的地方，也一样能找到吃的。哀~~~
12、中国的BBS，有些会限定字数，比如要求写5个字以上，才能够发表。
日本的BBS，有些也会限定字数，不过，是限定不能发表太多的文字。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
刚好相反
说明我们中国人。。。
13、在跟日本女性辩论的时候，如果你强调对方是女性，愿意让着她，她会认为这是对她的侮辱。
而我们中国的女性，恐怕是在网络世界上最会撒娇的人了。
――――――――――――――――――――――
为这个事情
一个叫“耻”的日本女性跟我争了很久。
因为我说她是女性，我会尊重她。
而她极力希望我不要注意她的性别，平等的和她辩论。
但是，虽然是日本女性，逻辑思维同样不好，容易感情用事，这个两国的女性相同。
14、面对中国的历史，日本人很自卑。
面对中国的现实，中国人底气不足。
――――――――――――――――――――
实际上，日本人非常崇拜中国历史，特别是三国时期、汉朝以及唐朝。君不见，日本人以《三国志》为题材的漫画，游戏层出不穷，宣传中国历史，日本人比中国人还卖力。
我曾经发过一个贴子，嘲笑日本人想成为中国人，竟然没有一个日本人反对。晕晕晕~~~
而说到现实，目前中国就国民人均水平，还与日本相差甚远，导致一些中国人说话底气不足够。
但是，目前中国发展迅速，只要努力，中国成为大国，只是时间问题，中国人应该具有大国国民的自信，而日本人不管在怎么努力，也只能活在大中国的阴影下。这就是日本人小国寡民的悲哀。
中国领先世界3800年，仅仅落后了200年，中国人没有理由失去信心。
15、在网络里，日本人公认中国的flash制作得非常好，非常厉害。
在网络里，面对日本人，一些中国人非常没有自信，非常自卑，恨不得否定中国的一切。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
非常有趣的对比，非常有趣的对比。
16、日本网络上，没有故作清高、自命不凡的人。如果你有本事，他就尊重你，如果你没有本事，你就乖乖站在旁边听他说话。
在中国的网络上，一个拖鞋甩出去，如果打中十个人，恐怕其中有2、3个就是故作清高、自命不凡的人。
――――――――――――――――――
日本人认为，故作清高、自命不凡是在浪费时间。。。是小学生的行为。
有知识有能力，是为了更好生存，为了增强国家、公司的竞争力。
不是拿来炫耀的。
我们中国人喜欢跟别人比，一但觉得别人不如自己，马上就产生优越感、洋洋自得。
17、中国人要比日本人坦荡得多，自己会衡量对错，错了会承认。
而日本人绝对不会主动承认错误，这个不是个别现象，大多数日本人如此。
――――――――――――――――――――――
日本人做错了事情，他自己知道，但是，你不要指望他会主动认错。
因为日本人认为，即使是他错了，而你又没有足够的证据证明他错，那就不是他的错。
换句话说，你没有足够的证据证明他错，那就是你的错了。
所以，和日本人辩论非常累，即使很明显是他们错了，他们也要先抵赖半天。
18、“大丈夫敢做敢当”，虽然不是每个中国人都能做到，但是中国人至少有这个概念。
日本人不知道什么是大丈夫，因此日本人玩阴的毫无羞耻感，他们可以用自己常用的网名与你一本正经的讨论，然后再注册一个如“ ”的名字偷偷给你下毒。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
说日本人是小人，他们不会生气，因为他们确实是小人。
１９、中国人“顶”贴，常用“ＵＰ”。
日本人“顶”贴，常用“aga”。
――――――――――――――――――
看到“ＵＰ”以后，日本人放弃了“aga”，也开始使用“ＵＰ”。
中国人也逐步具有创造潮流的能力了
希望这句话不要让那些自卑的中国人太伤心
20、日本网络男性最关心的话题：经济、性。
中国网络男性最关心的话题：军事、游戏、性。
――――――――――――――――――――――
不作分析了
21、我们中国人常说：人家好的地方，就要向人家学习。
日本人从不说这样的话，而是不管用什么方式，直接就把好东西弄回去。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
有道是做的不说，说的不做！
想起以前日本人去参观中国景泰蓝的时候，中国人还没有技术保护意识，日本人直接就把景泰蓝的工艺学回去了，一分钱也没有花。
这一条我犹豫了很久，最终还是决定写出来。
――――――――――――――――――――――
22、日本人不理解，日本政府已经无数次道歉，并且给中国提供了很多资金援助，为什么中国人还那么恨日本。
中国人不理解，为什么日本首相非要去参拜靖国神社，日本经常做激怒中国的事情。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
解释起来比较复杂。
日本人认为，政治人物拜靖国神社，并不是想再发动战争，做秀的成分比较大，主要就是为了保持支持率，讨好选民。大概是因为去参拜，不会影响那些原有的支持者继续支持，但是能获得那些战亡者家属的好感，这是表面解释。
深一点解释，日本人内心的大国意识还没有消失，而二战时期，从日本人的角度来说，是日本最强大的时期，他们从内心是怀念那个强大的日本帝国的，而目前有美国撑腰，日本依然敢于对邻国的愤怒视而不见。虽然日本援助了中国不少资金，但是死要面子的日本人只肯说是援助，绝不肯说是赔偿，换句话说，他们内心认为他们并没有错，只不过他们被美国打败了，成王败寇，没有办法才这样做。
至于我们中国人的想法，就不说太多了。日本虚伪的道歉对我们来说完全没有意义
wty3141 发表于 2005.07.25 22:43 阅读次数 3,760
（作者似乎是榕树下的，我有点忘了－－threef.cata注）
1、在中国论坛里，20岁的年轻人居多，30以上就被叫做老野了。
在日本论坛里，30岁-40岁的人居多，50以上才算老野。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――
因此，在论坛里，中国人和日本人辩论会比较吃亏。
因为年轻人阅历毕竟有限，很多事情还不知道该如何去表达出来。
2、日本人厌恶乱发新贴，喜欢顶旧贴，同一类的问题，希望在一个贴里就说清楚。
日本人很有耐心将一个长长的贴，从头到尾看完。
中国人喜欢发新贴，厌恶顶旧贴，一个话题，讨论两次就腻了，没有耐心去认真阅读发过的贴子。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
说明日本人做事情比较认真，也比较死板。
而中国人对新事物的注意力转移非常快，同时显示中国人比较浮躁一点。
3、中国人上网为的是娱乐，大多数看信息，看看就好，看过就算，回复也是简简单单应付了事。
日本人上网抱着学习的心态，认真的阅读，认真的回复，有时候为了回答一个问题，用几天的时间去查阅资料，即使是日本女性，也不会简单说“哦”！
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
曾经，为了要驳日本人，我花了一个月时间去重新学习中国历史，实际上在这个过程中，自己受益颇多。
4、日本人缺乏幽默感，你问什么，他就回答什么，日本人似乎不知道什么叫“反讽”。
中国人回复什么问题都可能会用幽默或者反讽的方式。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
我曾经问一个网名叫“英机”的日本人
“你第一次做爱是什么时候？”
他老老实实的回答说：“是16岁的时候。”
然后有补充说：“拜托你不要告诉别人”。
我回复他说：“好的，我不告诉别人你16岁就不是处男了”。
5、当辩论不过的时候，中国人会有两种表现，在友好讨论的前提下，虚心认输。如果是在争吵的前提下，就破口大骂。
辩论不过的时候，日本人同样也有两种表现，在友好讨论的前提下，虚心认输，表示钦佩。在争吵的前提下，给你的贴下病毒，并且死不承认。
――――――――――――――――――――――
日本人其实比中国人要坏，是小国寡民，敢做不敢当。
***，我被一种叫做“女性内衣”的日本病毒整过两次。
后来装上正版的杀毒软件，才敢继续上日本论坛。
6、中国人辩论的时候，常从感情的角度出发，带有人文色彩，爱讲大道理。
日本人辩论，从细微的角度入手，实在讲不过就转移话题。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
如果辩论到一定程度，对方走了，中国人不会介意，走就走罗，下次继续。
而日本人会补充一句：“你逃跑了”？
所以跟日本人辩论完以后，不要马上离开，等他们说完这句话，贬他两句再走。
7、日本人尊重老野，认为老野说话有内涵、有道理、有分量。
中国人嘲笑老野，认为老野过时、迂腐、老土。
――――――――――――――――――――
我是老野，嘿嘿。
8、中国论坛里，中国人不敢骂中国ZF。
日本论坛里，日本人不敢骂日本天皇。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――
曾经有个日本人挑衅的问我：“你敢不敢骂中国ZF”？
我回答说：“如果你敢骂日本天皇性无能，我就敢骂”。
结果我们两个都很心虚。
如果他敢骂日本天皇性无能，搞不好日本黑社会（右翼）会去杀他全家。
而如果我骂中国政府的话，“嘿嘿”！
9、中国人很在乎自己的名字，哪怕是网名，也希望是独一无二的，不喜欢冒充别人，因此有很多创意。
日本人不在乎自己的名字，简单、大众化的就好，经常出现日本人冒充中国人的现象。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
“。”这个句号是一个日本人的网名，有趣吧。
“通りすがりの？士”是日本人喜欢用的网名，意思是“路过的绅士”。
实际上，用这个名字的日本人，真实的身份是一头猪。
10、中国人在伊拉克在被抓为人质，所有中国人都希望政府尽力营救，并同情出国赚钱的而遭遇不幸的中国人。
日本人在伊拉克被抓为人质，被砍头，大部分日本人会埋怨这个日本人给国家添了麻烦，认为他被砍头是他自己的事情，不值得同情。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
中国人移居国外是很正常的事情，几千年如此，因为文化的纽带，中国人依然把移居国外的华人华侨当作自己人。而日本人的国家集体意识很强，凡损坏国家形象的，就是错的，社会环境和社会舆论制造出这样的氛围，个人必须服从集体。
11、在中国BBS里，如果有个中国人错了，其他一些中国人会豪不客气的指出来，分歧严重的时候，甚至会互相谩骂，总之谁也说服不了谁。。
在日本BBS里，如果有个日本人错了，通常别的日本人会小心翼翼的去指正他，然后那个人会很快道歉，然后大家放弃分歧，重新团结在一起。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
日本人团结是因为生存需要，是一种本能，从面积和资源上来说，日本是个小国，如果不团结的话，在残酷的世界竞争中会被淘汰。
而中国就不一样了，我们整天说自己“地大物博”，即使不团结，自己去别的地方，也一样能找到吃的。哀~~~
12、中国的BBS，有些会限定字数，比如要求写5个字以上，才能够发表。
日本的BBS，有些也会限定字数，不过，是限定不能发表太多的文字。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
刚好相反
说明我们中国人。。。
13、在跟日本女性辩论的时候，如果你强调对方是女性，愿意让着她，她会认为这是对她的侮辱。
而我们中国的女性，恐怕是在网络世界上最会撒娇的人了。
――――――――――――――――――――――
为这个事情
一个叫“耻”的日本女性跟我争了很久。
因为我说她是女性，我会尊重她。
而她极力希望我不要注意她的性别，平等的和她辩论。
但是，虽然是日本女性，逻辑思维同样不好，容易感情用事，这个两国的女性相同。
14、面对中国的历史，日本人很自卑。
面对中国的现实，中国人底气不足。
――――――――――――――――――――
实际上，日本人非常崇拜中国历史，特别是三国时期、汉朝以及唐朝。君不见，日本人以《三国志》为题材的漫画，游戏层出不穷，宣传中国历史，日本人比中国人还卖力。
我曾经发过一个贴子，嘲笑日本人想成为中国人，竟然没有一个日本人反对。晕晕晕~~~
而说到现实，目前中国就国民人均水平，还与日本相差甚远，导致一些中国人说话底气不足够。
但是，目前中国发展迅速，只要努力，中国成为大国，只是时间问题，中国人应该具有大国国民的自信，而日本人不管在怎么努力，也只能活在大中国的阴影下。这就是日本人小国寡民的悲哀。
中国领先世界3800年，仅仅落后了200年，中国人没有理由失去信心。
15、在网络里，日本人公认中国的flash制作得非常好，非常厉害。
在网络里，面对日本人，一些中国人非常没有自信，非常自卑，恨不得否定中国的一切。
――――――――――――――――――――――――
非常有趣的对比，非常有趣的对比。
16、日本网络上，没有故作清高、自命不凡的人。如果你有本事，他就尊重你，如果你没有本事，你就乖乖站在旁边听他说话。
在中国的网络上，一个拖鞋甩出去，如果打中十个人，恐怕其中有2、3个就是故作清高、自命不凡的人。
――――――――――――――――――
日本人认为，故作清高、自命不凡是在浪费时间。。。是小学生的行为。
有知识有能力，是为了更好生存，为了增强国家、公司的竞争力。
不是拿来炫耀的。
我们中国人喜欢跟别人比，一但觉得别人不如自己，马上就产生优越感、洋洋自得。
17、中国人要比日本人坦荡得多，自己会衡量对错，错了会承认。
而日本人绝对不会主动承认错误，这个不是个别现象，大多数日本人如此。
――――――――――――――――――――――
日本人做错了事情，他自己知道，但是，你不要指望他会主动认错。
因为日本人认为，即使是他错了，而你又没有足够的证据证明他错，那就不是他的错。
换句话说，你没有足够的证据证明他错，那就是你的错了。
所以，和日本人辩论非常累，即使很明显是他们错了，他们也要先抵赖半天。
18、“大丈夫敢做敢当”，虽然不是每个中国人都能做到，但是中国人至少有这个概念。
日本人不知道什么是大丈夫，因此日本人玩阴的毫无羞耻感，他们可以用自己常用的网名与你一本正经的讨论，然后再注册一个如“ ”的名字偷偷给你下毒。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
说日本人是小人，他们不会生气，因为他们确实是小人。
１９、中国人“顶”贴，常用“ＵＰ”。
日本人“顶”贴，常用“aga”。
――――――――――――――――――
看到“ＵＰ”以后，日本人放弃了“aga”，也开始使用“ＵＰ”。
中国人也逐步具有创造潮流的能力了
希望这句话不要让那些自卑的中国人太伤心
20、日本网络男性最关心的话题：经济、性。
中国网络男性最关心的话题：军事、游戏、性。
――――――――――――――――――――――
不作分析了
21、我们中国人常说：人家好的地方，就要向人家学习。
日本人从不说这样的话，而是不管用什么方式，直接就把好东西弄回去。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
有道是做的不说，说的不做！
想起以前日本人去参观中国景泰蓝的时候，中国人还没有技术保护意识，日本人直接就把景泰蓝的工艺学回去了，一分钱也没有花。
这一条我犹豫了很久，最终还是决定写出来。
――――――――――――――――――――――
22、日本人不理解，日本政府已经无数次道歉，并且给中国提供了很多资金援助，为什么中国人还那么恨日本。
中国人不理解，为什么日本首相非要去参拜靖国神社，日本经常做激怒中国的事情。
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
解释起来比较复杂。
日本人认为，政治人物拜靖国神社，并不是想再发动战争，做秀的成分比较大，主要就是为了保持支持率，讨好选民。大概是因为去参拜，不会影响那些原有的支持者继续支持，但是能获得那些战亡者家属的好感，这是表面解释。
深一点解释，日本人内心的大国意识还没有消失，而二战时期，从日本人的角度来说，是日本最强大的时期，他们从内心是怀念那个强大的日本帝国的，而目前有美国撑腰，日本依然敢于对邻国的愤怒视而不见。虽然日本援助了中国不少资金，但是死要面子的日本人只肯说是援助，绝不肯说是赔偿，换句话说，他们内心认为他们并没有错，只不过他们被美国打败了，成王败寇，没有办法才这样做。
至于我们中国人的想法，就不说太多了。日本虚伪的道歉对我们来说完全没有意义
Friday, August 26, 2005
Blog Update
EDIT: to snoobs who use "comments" to advertise~!!!!!f*** u~!
+ New top pic~~~ it is actually a pic of me @_@...........I can't see the top part of the border..... can't do anything about it now....geez.... blogger is sometimes annoying~!
New Blog Name: New school year -> new goals -> wanna be more inpependent....so there goes the new name~
Lata~
+ New top pic~~~ it is actually a pic of me @_@...........I can't see the top part of the border..... can't do anything about it now....geez.... blogger is sometimes annoying~!
New Blog Name: New school year -> new goals -> wanna be more inpependent....so there goes the new name~
Lata~
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Gr.12
Photograph - Nickelback
Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh
How did our eyes get so red
And what the hell is on Joey’s head?
This is where I grew up
I think the present owner fixed it up
I never knew we ever went without
The second floor is hard for sneakin’ out
And this is where I went to school
Most of the time had better things to do
Criminal record SAYS I broke in twice
I must’ve done it half a dozen times
I wonder if it’s too late
Should I go back and try to graduate?
Life's better now than it was back then
If I was them I wouldn't let me in oh oh oh
Oh god I…
Every memory of lookin’ out the back door
I got the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Every memory of walkin’ out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin’ for
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Remember the old arcade
Blew every dollar that we ever made
The cops hated us hangin’ out
They say somebody went and burned it down
We used to listen to the radio
And sing along with every song we’d know
We said someday we’d find out how it feels
To sing to more than just the steering wheel
Kim's the first girl I kissed
I was so nervous that I nearly missed
She’s had a couple of kids since then
I haven’t seen her since God knows when oh oh oh
Oh god I…
Every memory of lookin’ out the back door
I got the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Every memory of walkin’ out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin’ for
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
I miss that town, I miss the faces
You can’t erase, you can’t replace it
I miss it now, I can’t believe it
So hard to stay, too hard to leave it
If I could relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change
Every memory of lookin’ out the back door
I got the photo album spreaded on my bedroom floor
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Every memory of walkin’ out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin ‘for
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh
Every time I do it makes me…
My last year of high school is approaching..
I don't know what to expect..
Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh
How did our eyes get so red
And what the hell is on Joey’s head?
This is where I grew up
I think the present owner fixed it up
I never knew we ever went without
The second floor is hard for sneakin’ out
And this is where I went to school
Most of the time had better things to do
Criminal record SAYS I broke in twice
I must’ve done it half a dozen times
I wonder if it’s too late
Should I go back and try to graduate?
Life's better now than it was back then
If I was them I wouldn't let me in oh oh oh
Oh god I…
Every memory of lookin’ out the back door
I got the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Every memory of walkin’ out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin’ for
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Remember the old arcade
Blew every dollar that we ever made
The cops hated us hangin’ out
They say somebody went and burned it down
We used to listen to the radio
And sing along with every song we’d know
We said someday we’d find out how it feels
To sing to more than just the steering wheel
Kim's the first girl I kissed
I was so nervous that I nearly missed
She’s had a couple of kids since then
I haven’t seen her since God knows when oh oh oh
Oh god I…
Every memory of lookin’ out the back door
I got the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Every memory of walkin’ out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin’ for
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
I miss that town, I miss the faces
You can’t erase, you can’t replace it
I miss it now, I can’t believe it
So hard to stay, too hard to leave it
If I could relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change
Every memory of lookin’ out the back door
I got the photo album spreaded on my bedroom floor
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Every memory of walkin’ out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin ‘for
It’s hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye
Look at this photograph
Every time I do it makes me laugh
Every time I do it makes me…
My last year of high school is approaching..
I don't know what to expect..
Friday, July 08, 2005
?の?
随风起舞的树荫下附面而泣
望着那个素不相识的我
吉他为逝去之人而奏
流星为不归之人叹息
……
未染哀伤的白洁之上
摇摆着橘黄花瓣的夏日之影久不散去
……
燃尽所有回忆前行的大地上
往日的东西正在生根发芽
目送拂晓的列车??????不要熄灭这灯火
车轮 转啊
望着那个素不相识的我
吉他为逝去之人而奏
流星为不归之人叹息
……
未染哀伤的白洁之上
摇摆着橘黄花瓣的夏日之影久不散去
……
燃尽所有回忆前行的大地上
往日的东西正在生根发芽
目送拂晓的列车??????不要熄灭这灯火
车轮 转啊
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Bored...
don't feel like doing anything.................ai....................................
ps...new background music... Elfen Lied's OP
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Difference...
I came across someone's blog today...I just realize that because we didn't talk for so long, we don't know or care about each other anymore...
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Monday, May 23, 2005
new AVATAR and background music
took me so long to change the avatar.. I am so annoyed... Schedule May 25 + Macbeth Essay Due June 15 + Chem final June 16 + last day of school more coming up.... | |
 | |
| May 23, 2005 |
Friday, May 13, 2005
What kind of webmistress R U ?
You'd be right in your element at php-princess.net. What Kind Of Webmistress Are You?
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Sunday, April 10, 2005
SCHEDULE FROM APRIL 11
MONDAY, Apr. 11
+ work on debate cross-examination questions
+ update a better and clearer outline for debate
+ chemistry -> new unit: Mole concept!
+ yep! band..get my mom's signature ASAP
+ tutor Emily + Nicole??
+ tell PENK that i'll miss the X-grade on April 27
+ DO MATH HW!!!PLEASE!!
+ tutor Zoe after school
+ get signatures from Panwar of possible
TUESDAY Apr.12
+ work on debate cross-examination questions
+ take a speech practice
+ work on Xinlu's parts
+ NO PEER TUTOR during lunch time
+ hand in my lodge form
+ do math homework
+ tape the show for mom
+ research on rebuttal
WEDNESDAY Apr.13
+ possibly DEBATE time
+ peer tutor after school???
+ find out the address of RBC and opening hours...
+ research on rebuttal if necessary~!
THURSDAY Apr.14
+ write EMAIL to u-know-who
+ if there is rehearsal after school, cannot go
+ go to RBC bank after school w/ mom
FRIDAY Apr. 15
+ PRO-D DAY!!!!!!
+ do my homework
+ DO I HAVE TO GO TO THE REHEARSAL?
SATURDAY Apr.16
+ shopping??
+ packing for tomorrow
SUNDAY Apr.17
+Seattle trip day^^
FRIDAY Apr.22
+ Pro-D Day
+ Dad and my grandparents come!!
+ work on debate cross-examination questions
+ update a better and clearer outline for debate
+ chemistry -> new unit: Mole concept!
+ yep! band..get my mom's signature ASAP
+ tutor Emily + Nicole??
+ tell PENK that i'll miss the X-grade on April 27
+ DO MATH HW!!!PLEASE!!
+ tutor Zoe after school
+ get signatures from Panwar of possible
TUESDAY Apr.12
+ work on debate cross-examination questions
+ take a speech practice
+ work on Xinlu's parts
+ NO PEER TUTOR during lunch time
+ hand in my lodge form
+ do math homework
+ tape the show for mom
+ research on rebuttal
WEDNESDAY Apr.13
+ possibly DEBATE time
+ peer tutor after school???
+ find out the address of RBC and opening hours...
+ research on rebuttal if necessary~!
THURSDAY Apr.14
+ write EMAIL to u-know-who
+ if there is rehearsal after school, cannot go
+ go to RBC bank after school w/ mom
FRIDAY Apr. 15
+ PRO-D DAY!!!!!!
+ do my homework
+ DO I HAVE TO GO TO THE REHEARSAL?
SATURDAY Apr.16
+ shopping??
+ packing for tomorrow
SUNDAY Apr.17
+Seattle trip day^^
FRIDAY Apr.22
+ Pro-D Day
+ Dad and my grandparents come!!
Happy Brithday to my dad!!!
yep~~~ i havent forgotten^^....
but hez in china right now........so far away.............
but hez in china right now........so far away.............
Saturday, April 02, 2005
DEBATE
That's what we are learning in English...
dont know why but my group chose this topic：Genetic Engineering be Discontinued...
I personally hate the topic @ first, but now that i think about it, it's not so bad..At the moment, i am worrying about the debate itself...
Writing is always easier than speaking.....cuz you can take as long as you like to think before it's established... I borrowed some books @ the library on debating...I hope they help.
I don't really get what are you suppose to question during cross-examination.. And ... what if I have nothing to ask??? That would be pretty embarrassing... sigh....
dont know why but my group chose this topic：Genetic Engineering be Discontinued...
I personally hate the topic @ first, but now that i think about it, it's not so bad..At the moment, i am worrying about the debate itself...
Writing is always easier than speaking.....cuz you can take as long as you like to think before it's established... I borrowed some books @ the library on debating...I hope they help.
I don't really get what are you suppose to question during cross-examination.. And ... what if I have nothing to ask??? That would be pretty embarrassing... sigh....
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Schedule for March 14 ---- week
March 14
+ have to freakin working on Ralph's characteristics
+ Chemistry starts chemical bonding....
+ Check the peer tutor basket...
March 15
+ Peer Tutoring after school ????
+ Have to talk to my tutee Gary
March 16
+ Cross-Grade
+ Spring Concert @ 7pm
March 17
+ "Lord of the Flies" unit test...
March 18
+ Possibly Chem test on Chemical bonding
+ English: group presentation and party...
+ Math: Chapter 3 unit test.....
this schedule is to be updated...
+ have to freakin working on Ralph's characteristics
+ Chemistry starts chemical bonding....
+ Check the peer tutor basket...
March 15
+ Peer Tutoring after school ????
+ Have to talk to my tutee Gary
March 16
+ Cross-Grade
+ Spring Concert @ 7pm
March 17
+ "Lord of the Flies" unit test...
March 18
+ Possibly Chem test on Chemical bonding
+ English: group presentation and party...
+ Math: Chapter 3 unit test.....
this schedule is to be updated...
One week till spring break!!!!!!
yes yes finally...
I'm sure I'll suffer a lot starting on monday.. the week before the holiday is usually the suffering day.... sigh..
p.s.... I found a pattern... I usually blog here on sundays ^^
I'm sure I'll suffer a lot starting on monday.. the week before the holiday is usually the suffering day.... sigh..
p.s.... I found a pattern... I usually blog here on sundays ^^
Sunday, March 06, 2005
DECISIONS
this blog is in effect.............
I have to make a few important decisions to make...
- course selection for next year
- major and university i want to go
- find a job now or wait till summmer...
I have to make a few important decisions to make...
- course selection for next year
- major and university i want to go
- find a job now or wait till summmer...
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
updated planner for the week
March 2, 2005
- No band! [Talets only...haha]
- Math Chapter Test
- Key change for the main door if the strata.....[must remember a ]
- Peer tutor Linda after school
- Researching about college/university and stuff [if time allows]
March 3, 2005
- English: first tribal council!
- Bring strings music...
- no Peer tutor after school a
- Keep reading Lord of the Flies [as if......then *yawn*]
- Practice violin [sure I will.....>.<]
- Band rehearsal after school [MUST attend...quote LAITHWAITE..@_@]
- Strings players only after band rehearsal :(
March 4, 2005
- English VS strings only....f***
- Peer Tutor after school
- Enter my "hours" on the computer.....
- Practice violin and trumpet....
- read lord of the flies
- more research on university etc....[hoping to make up my mind a]
March 5& 6, 2005
* hang out wit friends if possible ...
- do hw
- make up my mind on cource planning!
March 7, 2005
- make initial appointment with councilor about course planning.......
- English: Second Tribal council!
March 9, 2005
- Chem field trip ^^[still drop by the first few classes tho....]
- English: Third tribal council [Wont be here]
March 16, 2005
- English X-grade...*_*
March 18, 2005
- Last day before spring break
- English presentation!
- No band! [Talets only...haha]
- Math Chapter Test
- Key change for the main door if the strata.....[must remember a ]
- Peer tutor Linda after school
- Researching about college/university and stuff [if time allows]
March 3, 2005
- English: first tribal council!
- Bring strings music...
- no Peer tutor after school a
- Keep reading Lord of the Flies [as if......then *yawn*]
- Practice violin [sure I will.....>.<]
- Band rehearsal after school [MUST attend...quote LAITHWAITE..@_@]
- Strings players only after band rehearsal :(
March 4, 2005
- English VS strings only....f***
- Peer Tutor after school
- Enter my "hours" on the computer.....
- Practice violin and trumpet....
- read lord of the flies
- more research on university etc....[hoping to make up my mind a]
March 5& 6, 2005
* hang out wit friends if possible ...
- do hw
- make up my mind on cource planning!
March 7, 2005
- make initial appointment with councilor about course planning.......
- English: Second Tribal council!
March 9, 2005
- Chem field trip ^^[still drop by the first few classes tho....]
- English: Third tribal council [Wont be here]
March 16, 2005
- English X-grade...*_*
March 18, 2005
- Last day before spring break
- English presentation!
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Schedule for coming days ^^[dont let me be a GEEK plz]
Feb 28, 2005
- hand in peer tutor form & get a new form ^^
- English: continue to read Lord of the Flies
- No jazz band ^^ [hoooray! ]
- Peer Tutor After School
- Ask Gary if he need help ...
- show mom my report card.....[yep.. at this time =_=|||]
- practice trumpet....
March 1, 2005 [SPRING???~~~~ ]
- must bring trumpet to school a ...
- Chem unit 1 test [scary]
- Concert band
- practice violin [if possible]
March 2, 2005
- Key change for the main door if the strata.....[must remember a ]
- Peer tutor after school
- Researching about college/university and stuff [if time allows]
March 3, 2005
- no Peer tutor after school a
- Jazz Band or no band???[hmmm...not sure....]
- Keep reading Lord of the Flies [as if......then *yawn*]
- Practice violin [sure I will.....>.<]
- Band rehearsal after school [MUST attend...quote LAITHWAITE..@_@]
March 4, 2005
- Peer Tutor after school
- Enter my "hours" on the computer.....
- Practice violin and trumpet....
- read lord of the flies
- more research on university etc....[hoping to make up my mind a]
March 5, 2005
* hang out wit friends if possible ...
March 9, 2005
- Chem field trip ^^[still drop by the first few classes tho....]
- hand in peer tutor form & get a new form ^^
- English: continue to read Lord of the Flies
- No jazz band ^^ [hoooray! ]
- Peer Tutor After School
- Ask Gary if he need help ...
- show mom my report card.....[yep.. at this time =_=|||]
- practice trumpet....
March 1, 2005 [SPRING???~~~~ ]
- must bring trumpet to school a ...
- Chem unit 1 test [scary]
- Concert band
- practice violin [if possible]
March 2, 2005
- Key change for the main door if the strata.....[must remember a ]
- Peer tutor after school
- Researching about college/university and stuff [if time allows]
March 3, 2005
- no Peer tutor after school a
- Jazz Band or no band???[hmmm...not sure....]
- Keep reading Lord of the Flies [as if......then *yawn*]
- Practice violin [sure I will.....>.<]
- Band rehearsal after school [MUST attend...quote LAITHWAITE..@_@]
March 4, 2005
- Peer Tutor after school
- Enter my "hours" on the computer.....
- Practice violin and trumpet....
- read lord of the flies
- more research on university etc....[hoping to make up my mind a]
March 5, 2005
* hang out wit friends if possible ...
March 9, 2005
- Chem field trip ^^[still drop by the first few classes tho....]
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Finally!!!!
I finished my short story...
totally a tearjerker...
I think it sucked because a lot of things are not well developed...
and it exceeds what the teacher says i have to write...so freakin long man...
more than a thousand words.. thatz the longest piece I've written.....EVER!
totally a tearjerker...
I think it sucked because a lot of things are not well developed...
and it exceeds what the teacher says i have to write...so freakin long man...
more than a thousand words.. thatz the longest piece I've written.....EVER!
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Hero of the 'Hood
A really sad story....
By all odds, Mike Powell should never have survived. Addiction, drug pushing, prison or early death are the most likely cards dealt to street kids growing up in the "jungle" of South-Central Los Angeles - a violent combat zone of drug wars, gang slayings, prostitution and crime. But Mike's young life had a special purpose. For eight years, he braved terror and brutalization to keep his family of seven kids together. Incredibly, during that time, no one ever discovered that the only real parent the family had was just another kid.
When Mike was born, his father, Fonso, was in prison for drug dealing. Mike's fifteen-year-old mother, Cheryl, dropped out of school to support the baby. "Without you, my life could have been different," she later told Mike over and over. It was the guilty glue that would make Mike stick with her through the coming years of horror.
Fonso was released from prison when Mike was four, but instead of security, the six-foot-five, 300-pound Vietnam vet brought a new kind of fear into Mike's life. Fonso had sever psychological problems, and his discipline was harrowing. For minor infractions, such as slamming a door, he forced Mike to do pushups for hours. If the little boy collasped, his father beat him. So fanatical was Fonso's insistence on school attendence that Cheryl had to hide Mike in a closet when he sick.
Perhaps it was some dark premotion that drove Fonso to toughen up his young son and teach him self-reliance far beyond his hears. Mike was barely eight when his father was murdered in a run-in with drug dealers.
Overnight, the protection and income Fonso had provided were gone. It was back to the streets for twenty-four year old Cheryl, who now had three kids: Mike; Raf, age four; and Amber, one year. Life was bitterly hard, and another baby was on the way.
It wasn't long before Cheryl brought home Marcel, a cocaine addict who terrorized the family even more than Fonso did. When Mike innocently questioned what Marcel had done with Cheryl's wages as a trasit worker, Marcel broke the little boy's jaw so badly it had to be wired in place.
Marcel soon got Cheryl hooked on cocaine, and the two would disappear on drug binges, at first leaving the children locked in a closet but eventrally just leaving them alone for weeks at a time. Cheryl had convined Mike that if anyone found out what was happening, the children would be separated and sent to foster homes. Remebering his father's fierce admonitions to "be a man", the eight year old became consumed by the need to keep his family together, no matter what.
To make sure no one suspected anything, Mike began cleaning the apartment himself, doing laundry by hand and keeping his sisters fed, diapered, and immaculate. He svavenged junk shops for hairbrushes, bottles, and clothes, whatever they could afford, and covered up for his mother's absences witha n endless litany of excuses. Cheryl and Marcel were soon buring though everything the family had in order to buy crack - even money for rent and the children's food. When their money situation became desperate, Mike quietly quit elementary school at nine to support the family himself. He cleaned yards, unloaded trucks, and stocked liquor stores, always working before dawn or late at night so the smaller children wouldn't be alone while awake.
As Cheryl and Marcel's drug binges and absences became longer and more frequent, their brief returns became more violent. Sinking deeper into addiciton, Cheryl would simply abandon Marcel when his drugs ran out and hook up with someone who was better supplied. A crazed Marcel would then rampage though the slum apartment, torturing and terrorizing the children for information about where more money was hidden or where he could find their mother.
One night, Marcel put Mike's two year old sister in a plastic bag and held it closed. Without air, the toddler's eyes were bulging and she was turing blue. "Where's your mother?" the addict screamed. Sobbing, Mike and little five year old Raf threw themselves at Marcel again and again, beating on his back with small, ineffectual fists. In desperation, Mike finally sank his teeth into Marcel's neck, praying the savage tormentor would drop the plastic bag and pick on him instead. It worked. Marcel wheeled and threw Mike through the window, cutting him with shattered glass and breaking his arm.
Cheryl's parents, Mabel and Otis Bradly, loved their grandchildren deeply, but they worked long hours and lived a difficult multiple-bus commute away, and could see them only rarely. Sensing the family was truggling, Mabel sent toys, clothes, and diapers, never dreaming that even the diapers were being sold by Cheryl for drug money. Although Mabel's constant phone calls and uncondional love became Mike's only achor of support, he didn't dare tell her that anything was wrong. He feared his gentle grandmother would have a heart attack if she learned the truth - or worse, a violent confrontation with Marcel.
The family was forced to move constatly, sleeping in movie theaters, abandoned cars and even fresh crime scences at times. Mike washed their clothes in public restrooms and cooked on a single-burner hot plate. Eventrally, Cheryl and Marcel always caught up with them.
Dispite the movies, Mike insisted the younger kids attend school, get good grades and be model citizens. To clasmates, teachers, and even their grandmother, the children always seemed normal, well-groomed and happy. No one could have imagined how they lived or that they were being raised by another child. Somehow, Mike had managed to sort though the good intentions but brutal menthods of his father, and blend them with the loving example of his grandmother, to form a unique value system. He loved his family deeply, and in return, the children love, trusted and belived in him. "You don't have to end up on the street," he told them. "See what Mamma is like? Stay off drugs!" Secretly he was terrified that his mother would one day O.D. in front of them.
Over the next few years, Cheryl was jailed repeatedly for possession and sale of narcotics and other crimes, and was sometimes gone for up to a year at a time. Out of jail, she continued to have more children, making the family's financial situation increasingly critical. Hard as Mike tried, it was becoming impossible for him to care for three new babies and support a family of seven kids at the same time. One Christmas ther was only a can of corn and a box of macoaroni and cheese for all of them to share. Their only toys for the past year had been a single McDonald's Happy Meal figurine for each child. For presents, Mike had the children wrap the figurines in newspaper and exchange them. It was one of their better Christmases.
The young teenager now lived in constant anxiety, but still refused to fall into the easier would of drug dealing and crime. Instead, he braved the dangerous streets late at night selling doctored macadamia nuts, which, to half-crazed addicts, looked like thirty-dollar crack-cocaine "rocks". He knew he rised his life every time he took such chances, but he felt he had few choices. In the nightly siege of gang and drug warfare, the odds were against him, though. By age fifteen, Mike had been shot eight times.
Worse, his reserves of strength and hope were running dangerously low. For as long as he could remember, he had lived with relentless daily fears: Will we be able to eat today? Will we all be on the street tonight? Will Marcel show up tomorrow?
And after more than forty moves, it seemed they had finally hit rock bottom. "Home" was now the Frontier Hotel, a filthy dive on Skid Row where pimps and prostitutes stalked the halls and drug dealers went down on the stairways. The kids had watched a murder in the lobby, and Mike was now afraid to leave them them alone or to sleep. For the few night they had been there, he had stayed up with a baseball bad to kill rats as they crawled under the door.
Sleep-deprived and overwhelmed by stress, Mike felt crushed by the responsibities of his life. It was 2 am. His brother and sisters were huddled under a single blanket on the floor. Michelle, the youngest baby, was crying, but he had no food for her. The boy who had shouldered his secret burden for so many years suddenly lost hope.
Stumbing to the window in despair, Mike stook at the edge, steeling himself to jump. Silently asking his family to forgive him, he closed his eyes and took a last deep breath. Just then, a woman across the street spotted him and began screaming. Mike reeled back from the edge and fell into a corner, sobbing. For the rest of the night, he rocked the hungry baby and prayed for help.
It came a few days later on the eve of Thanksgiving 1993, shortly before Mike's sixteenth birthday. A church outreach group had set up a sidewalk kitchen nearby to feed the hungry, and MIke took the children there for free sandwitchs. So impressed were the volunteers with him and the polite youngsters that they began asking gentle questions. A dam deep inside Mike broke, and his story spilled out.
Within days, the church group was at work trying to find the family permanent shelter, but no single foster home could take all seven children. Advised that the family would have to be separated "for their own good", Mike adamantly refused, threating to disappear back into the jungle with the kids. the only person he trusted to keep the family together was his grandmother. Reluctantly, he finally told her of their life for the past eight years.
Stunned and horrified, Mabel Bradley immediately agreed to take the children, but the Los Angeles County social welfare system balked. Mabel was sixty-six, retired, and the children's grandfather was diabetic. How would the Bradleys possibly cope with seven youngers? But Mike knew better. He hid the children and refused to negotiate any alternative except his grandparents. Finally the social workers and courts agreed, and an ecstatic Mabel and Otis Bradley were grated permanent legal custody of the children. Somehow every child had survived unscathed. Nothing short of miracles, it seemed - and Mike's unfathomable strenth and love - had kept them together.
Mabel has since returned to work and now willingly comutes more than one hundred miles a day, while Otis cares for the children. Mike works as many jobs as he can to help support the family, but smart, willing and honest as he is, only minimum-wage jobs are avaiable. More than anyone, he realizes the value of an education and is working on his GED.
His dream is to someday start a small company that can simultaneously employ anc counset street kids like himself who are without the traditonal education and skills to make it in the normal work world, but who don't want to be forced back to street life because they can't find work.
Mike is also dedicated to reaching other inner-city kids though his music. A talented singer and songwriter, he writes inspirational rap with his own unique message of hope. Having seen so many kids die in his young life, he wants desperately to reach those who might live. "Surviving is against the odds, but it happens, and we have to get that message out. If a thousand people hear me and two kids don't get shot, don't deal, don't die, then we've done something."
There is little time to sing right now, though, for Mike and his family are still struggling themselves. But Raf, Amber, and Chloe are now stepping proudly into Mike's big shoes to do their part at home. They are the three oldest street babies he raised - and taught to live with courage and hope.
They remember well all of Mike's words, whispered fiercely to them over and over during the bad times, during the many moves when, each time, they had to leave everything behind: "Whatever you have, be grateful for it! Even if you have nothing, be grateful you're alive! Believe in yourself. Nobody is stopping you. Have a goal. Survive!"
Mike Powell will have his company for street kids some day. And there will be time, later, for the rest of his dreams too. Mike is, after all, only nineteen.
- Paula McDonald
By all odds, Mike Powell should never have survived. Addiction, drug pushing, prison or early death are the most likely cards dealt to street kids growing up in the "jungle" of South-Central Los Angeles - a violent combat zone of drug wars, gang slayings, prostitution and crime. But Mike's young life had a special purpose. For eight years, he braved terror and brutalization to keep his family of seven kids together. Incredibly, during that time, no one ever discovered that the only real parent the family had was just another kid.
When Mike was born, his father, Fonso, was in prison for drug dealing. Mike's fifteen-year-old mother, Cheryl, dropped out of school to support the baby. "Without you, my life could have been different," she later told Mike over and over. It was the guilty glue that would make Mike stick with her through the coming years of horror.
Fonso was released from prison when Mike was four, but instead of security, the six-foot-five, 300-pound Vietnam vet brought a new kind of fear into Mike's life. Fonso had sever psychological problems, and his discipline was harrowing. For minor infractions, such as slamming a door, he forced Mike to do pushups for hours. If the little boy collasped, his father beat him. So fanatical was Fonso's insistence on school attendence that Cheryl had to hide Mike in a closet when he sick.
Perhaps it was some dark premotion that drove Fonso to toughen up his young son and teach him self-reliance far beyond his hears. Mike was barely eight when his father was murdered in a run-in with drug dealers.
Overnight, the protection and income Fonso had provided were gone. It was back to the streets for twenty-four year old Cheryl, who now had three kids: Mike; Raf, age four; and Amber, one year. Life was bitterly hard, and another baby was on the way.
It wasn't long before Cheryl brought home Marcel, a cocaine addict who terrorized the family even more than Fonso did. When Mike innocently questioned what Marcel had done with Cheryl's wages as a trasit worker, Marcel broke the little boy's jaw so badly it had to be wired in place.
Marcel soon got Cheryl hooked on cocaine, and the two would disappear on drug binges, at first leaving the children locked in a closet but eventrally just leaving them alone for weeks at a time. Cheryl had convined Mike that if anyone found out what was happening, the children would be separated and sent to foster homes. Remebering his father's fierce admonitions to "be a man", the eight year old became consumed by the need to keep his family together, no matter what.
To make sure no one suspected anything, Mike began cleaning the apartment himself, doing laundry by hand and keeping his sisters fed, diapered, and immaculate. He svavenged junk shops for hairbrushes, bottles, and clothes, whatever they could afford, and covered up for his mother's absences witha n endless litany of excuses. Cheryl and Marcel were soon buring though everything the family had in order to buy crack - even money for rent and the children's food. When their money situation became desperate, Mike quietly quit elementary school at nine to support the family himself. He cleaned yards, unloaded trucks, and stocked liquor stores, always working before dawn or late at night so the smaller children wouldn't be alone while awake.
As Cheryl and Marcel's drug binges and absences became longer and more frequent, their brief returns became more violent. Sinking deeper into addiciton, Cheryl would simply abandon Marcel when his drugs ran out and hook up with someone who was better supplied. A crazed Marcel would then rampage though the slum apartment, torturing and terrorizing the children for information about where more money was hidden or where he could find their mother.
One night, Marcel put Mike's two year old sister in a plastic bag and held it closed. Without air, the toddler's eyes were bulging and she was turing blue. "Where's your mother?" the addict screamed. Sobbing, Mike and little five year old Raf threw themselves at Marcel again and again, beating on his back with small, ineffectual fists. In desperation, Mike finally sank his teeth into Marcel's neck, praying the savage tormentor would drop the plastic bag and pick on him instead. It worked. Marcel wheeled and threw Mike through the window, cutting him with shattered glass and breaking his arm.
Cheryl's parents, Mabel and Otis Bradly, loved their grandchildren deeply, but they worked long hours and lived a difficult multiple-bus commute away, and could see them only rarely. Sensing the family was truggling, Mabel sent toys, clothes, and diapers, never dreaming that even the diapers were being sold by Cheryl for drug money. Although Mabel's constant phone calls and uncondional love became Mike's only achor of support, he didn't dare tell her that anything was wrong. He feared his gentle grandmother would have a heart attack if she learned the truth - or worse, a violent confrontation with Marcel.
The family was forced to move constatly, sleeping in movie theaters, abandoned cars and even fresh crime scences at times. Mike washed their clothes in public restrooms and cooked on a single-burner hot plate. Eventrally, Cheryl and Marcel always caught up with them.
Dispite the movies, Mike insisted the younger kids attend school, get good grades and be model citizens. To clasmates, teachers, and even their grandmother, the children always seemed normal, well-groomed and happy. No one could have imagined how they lived or that they were being raised by another child. Somehow, Mike had managed to sort though the good intentions but brutal menthods of his father, and blend them with the loving example of his grandmother, to form a unique value system. He loved his family deeply, and in return, the children love, trusted and belived in him. "You don't have to end up on the street," he told them. "See what Mamma is like? Stay off drugs!" Secretly he was terrified that his mother would one day O.D. in front of them.
Over the next few years, Cheryl was jailed repeatedly for possession and sale of narcotics and other crimes, and was sometimes gone for up to a year at a time. Out of jail, she continued to have more children, making the family's financial situation increasingly critical. Hard as Mike tried, it was becoming impossible for him to care for three new babies and support a family of seven kids at the same time. One Christmas ther was only a can of corn and a box of macoaroni and cheese for all of them to share. Their only toys for the past year had been a single McDonald's Happy Meal figurine for each child. For presents, Mike had the children wrap the figurines in newspaper and exchange them. It was one of their better Christmases.
The young teenager now lived in constant anxiety, but still refused to fall into the easier would of drug dealing and crime. Instead, he braved the dangerous streets late at night selling doctored macadamia nuts, which, to half-crazed addicts, looked like thirty-dollar crack-cocaine "rocks". He knew he rised his life every time he took such chances, but he felt he had few choices. In the nightly siege of gang and drug warfare, the odds were against him, though. By age fifteen, Mike had been shot eight times.
Worse, his reserves of strength and hope were running dangerously low. For as long as he could remember, he had lived with relentless daily fears: Will we be able to eat today? Will we all be on the street tonight? Will Marcel show up tomorrow?
And after more than forty moves, it seemed they had finally hit rock bottom. "Home" was now the Frontier Hotel, a filthy dive on Skid Row where pimps and prostitutes stalked the halls and drug dealers went down on the stairways. The kids had watched a murder in the lobby, and Mike was now afraid to leave them them alone or to sleep. For the few night they had been there, he had stayed up with a baseball bad to kill rats as they crawled under the door.
Sleep-deprived and overwhelmed by stress, Mike felt crushed by the responsibities of his life. It was 2 am. His brother and sisters were huddled under a single blanket on the floor. Michelle, the youngest baby, was crying, but he had no food for her. The boy who had shouldered his secret burden for so many years suddenly lost hope.
Stumbing to the window in despair, Mike stook at the edge, steeling himself to jump. Silently asking his family to forgive him, he closed his eyes and took a last deep breath. Just then, a woman across the street spotted him and began screaming. Mike reeled back from the edge and fell into a corner, sobbing. For the rest of the night, he rocked the hungry baby and prayed for help.
It came a few days later on the eve of Thanksgiving 1993, shortly before Mike's sixteenth birthday. A church outreach group had set up a sidewalk kitchen nearby to feed the hungry, and MIke took the children there for free sandwitchs. So impressed were the volunteers with him and the polite youngsters that they began asking gentle questions. A dam deep inside Mike broke, and his story spilled out.
Within days, the church group was at work trying to find the family permanent shelter, but no single foster home could take all seven children. Advised that the family would have to be separated "for their own good", Mike adamantly refused, threating to disappear back into the jungle with the kids. the only person he trusted to keep the family together was his grandmother. Reluctantly, he finally told her of their life for the past eight years.
Stunned and horrified, Mabel Bradley immediately agreed to take the children, but the Los Angeles County social welfare system balked. Mabel was sixty-six, retired, and the children's grandfather was diabetic. How would the Bradleys possibly cope with seven youngers? But Mike knew better. He hid the children and refused to negotiate any alternative except his grandparents. Finally the social workers and courts agreed, and an ecstatic Mabel and Otis Bradley were grated permanent legal custody of the children. Somehow every child had survived unscathed. Nothing short of miracles, it seemed - and Mike's unfathomable strenth and love - had kept them together.
Mabel has since returned to work and now willingly comutes more than one hundred miles a day, while Otis cares for the children. Mike works as many jobs as he can to help support the family, but smart, willing and honest as he is, only minimum-wage jobs are avaiable. More than anyone, he realizes the value of an education and is working on his GED.
His dream is to someday start a small company that can simultaneously employ anc counset street kids like himself who are without the traditonal education and skills to make it in the normal work world, but who don't want to be forced back to street life because they can't find work.
Mike is also dedicated to reaching other inner-city kids though his music. A talented singer and songwriter, he writes inspirational rap with his own unique message of hope. Having seen so many kids die in his young life, he wants desperately to reach those who might live. "Surviving is against the odds, but it happens, and we have to get that message out. If a thousand people hear me and two kids don't get shot, don't deal, don't die, then we've done something."
There is little time to sing right now, though, for Mike and his family are still struggling themselves. But Raf, Amber, and Chloe are now stepping proudly into Mike's big shoes to do their part at home. They are the three oldest street babies he raised - and taught to live with courage and hope.
They remember well all of Mike's words, whispered fiercely to them over and over during the bad times, during the many moves when, each time, they had to leave everything behind: "Whatever you have, be grateful for it! Even if you have nothing, be grateful you're alive! Believe in yourself. Nobody is stopping you. Have a goal. Survive!"
Mike Powell will have his company for street kids some day. And there will be time, later, for the rest of his dreams too. Mike is, after all, only nineteen.
- Paula McDonald
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Kissing
How can u plan a kiss?
It's so unromantic...
How can u have your first kiss with no chemistry?
That's like saying I'm gonna find a boyfriend next month....
I want my first to be special...
and not planned.....
It's so unromantic...
How can u have your first kiss with no chemistry?
That's like saying I'm gonna find a boyfriend next month....
I want my first to be special...
and not planned.....
Monday, January 03, 2005
SELF CONTROL!!
Procrastination becomes a disease!!!
I'm deeply infected!!!!
I must find a way to cure myself!!!!!!!
NO MORE BLOGS UNTIL I CAN STOP PROCRASTINATING!!!
NO MORE UNTIL I AM "HEALTHY" AGAIN!!
I'm deeply infected!!!!
I must find a way to cure myself!!!!!!!
NO MORE BLOGS UNTIL I CAN STOP PROCRASTINATING!!!
NO MORE UNTIL I AM "HEALTHY" AGAIN!!
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