One of the biggest regrets i have had would be the grades that i have received in the past THREE years. I know and everyone else knows it too. They told me that i was smart, but didnt apply myself well. Mainly that i was lazy. I agreed with them 100%. It was true, i was smart, had a good memory, but it was the WORK that i did not want any part of. I can sit in an interesting class alllll day, but if we have work all the time, i just get lazy. Because i know what we have to know, but to keep doing it over and over again in a day or 2 days or 2 weeks. I just was lazy. Which is not a good thing. To do well in school you have to put it above many other important things in your life. Some of us are socialites, like me. Others want a good future and think more in that time, not NOW. The present which is way more exciting than the future. You know whats happening now, but never in the future. So put that in your juice box and suck it. Think about that for a good 30 seconds then close the screen and go back to myspace. Grades, are my main regret.
-Blake Bevanssss
Friday, January 30, 2009
Sophomore Year
My biggest regret is easly most of my sophomore year. pretty much a bunch of people i was close 2 died, and some other stuff happened, but i dont really wanna get into it in this blog. If anyone really wants to know, ask me. i got really depressed and did a bunch of stupid stuff, and just generally stoped caring about everything. Failed alot of classes (thats y im here). Then i quiet because i realized what i was doin and that as a christian i shouldnt b doin that stuff. and started prying alot, and my friends helped me. In the end i regret acting how i did, some things were justified but most wasn't.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
regret
ahh i regret a lot in my life, there's always something i wanted to change that ive done but i cant, like i regret not having a good solid relationship with my family, over the years we grew apart.. and no im at the point there i dont talk with them much and i barely see them.. thats the one big thing i regret...maybe it might get better as time goes on, but who knows.
me and my smart idea's
Right after the parent teacher confrences my friend and i went to Safeway and i was dumb and tried to steal a couple Monster energy drinks. If any of you know me you know i am a Monster fanatic, thats all i ever want to drink. As i was putting the can behind my belt i saw that one of the worker's was shoping and she spoted me. Now normally people would try to keep their composer. Well i was not that way,i was a little to jumpy. As i tryed to leave one of the workers stoped me and told me to lift up my shirt so i did and she told me that i had to leave. Luckly it didn't involve the cops. Know some of you are thinking why did i do something so stupid, Well for a couple reasons. One, i had absolutly no monney. Two, i was haveing a realy hard time at home with my family. Three, i was realy thirsty. i ended up getting grounded for two weeks. If i had a chance to change that day i would have not gone in the store with the intent of shop lifting, i would have told my friend that we should go back to my house to get food and something to drink but like my mom and dad tell me on a daily basis "thing's happen for a reason." and i have always belived them.
Regret
I regret not spending more time with my dad. He died when i was about 7 and so i never got to get to know him very well. I still remember the musky smell of oil and dust that clung to him like he was a big grining dutch barn. I still remember sitting on his lap when I was 5 and steering while he worked the pedals. I suppose most of all I regret not getting to say goodbye.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Regret
Their are a lot of things I am ashamed / regret doing, I think the thing I regret the most is when I called my dad stupid, at the time I was really frustrated, annoyed, and infantile. I regret it because my dad has done so much for me, (Dick Chenney) an i've never done a whole lot in return. An i'm pretty sure the toledo in Oregon are the wolvarines or badgers.....
Regret...
I can't really say that I regret anything I have done... Yes I may be ashamed of somethings I have done in my past but I believe that you shouldn't regret anything you have done. If it made you smile and you were happy you were while you were doing it than it is worth it. Everything happens for a reason. And if it messes up your life at that point than just take that and learn from it. You need to do stupid things in your life so you can learn from them. You are not going to learn everything you need to know but sitting in some class listening to someone talk about it. You need to go out there and do it for yourself....
Stacey.
Stacey.
Regret.
I regret a lot of things i have done. I can say that is a true fact. I can't say however that i would take back all of the things i regret. I regret believing that my life was going to be perfect. Okay let me explain that. I took everything for granted. I always expected everything to be perfect like i lived in a movie where at the end everyone was happy. I wish i would have allowed myself to be a little more realistic about life. Because after your aunt dies, You lose both of your dads, and you live with someone who can't stand on her own two feet let alone even try, You think to yourself, Man i wish i had the simple little things in life back. I regret a lot of those little things like cutting class, skipping assignments, and staying up til like 4am then faking sick instead of saying i was tired. Regret can take a lot out of a person, so try to not to let it weigh you down to must. Think subconsciously Am i going to Regret this? If not go for it!
-xoxo Sam
Credit Recovery Black 4
I regret my freshman year, Honestly I would take the whole year back. I screwed off, skipped school, goofed off and basically I can't take it back. I made up for all my mistakes, But I will always regret it. I fixed my mistakes but I regret it. Normally, Im a believer in everything happens for a reason.... But this is the one thing I will always wish Never happened. Although, It was all fun at the time...It came back and bit me in the butt. Anyways, Don't do it... Im warning everyone. Do good in school, graduate. Cause right now Im doing credit recovery for a freshman class that I was never in. Doing work, for all the work I could've accomplished If i was there.
Avery Tamblyn
1/28/09
Credit Recovery
Mr. Humphrey.
Period 4
Avery Tamblyn
1/28/09
Credit Recovery
Mr. Humphrey.
Period 4
"Big towel snapping fight of 2008"
Last year in about the end of June, I was working on my most important personal project ever! My mom came into my room ranting about how her big 4th of July party was less than a week away and how she had a billion things to get done before then.
Pointedly I ignored her ranting and raving and kept working on my book "Meji of the Elements" which was only on page 60 or something. She raved at me for like a half hour until she took the book, tore a few pages and threw it at the wall. I was extremly angry and screamed a few...choice words at her in my rage.
She left the room and got one of the large towels from the bathroom. She came back and began snapping me with it, screaming about how I was the most disrespectful child on the face of the earth. In turn I got up from my chair screaming about how I didn't care considering how evil and rude and stupid she was.
I went to the bathroom and got a towel of my own and began snapping her back. I wasn't about to let her snap me and not fight back. We screamed and snapped and screamed some more. It was very noisy. We didn't even notice my dad and brother leave the house.
I realize now that it was not a good idea to fight with her like that but I had no desire to listen to her after she had torn up my hard work. (It had taken me like 4 years to get that far because of school.) It was a huge mistake to do something like that and I regret it but I can't take it back so I have to live with it.
Pointedly I ignored her ranting and raving and kept working on my book "Meji of the Elements" which was only on page 60 or something. She raved at me for like a half hour until she took the book, tore a few pages and threw it at the wall. I was extremly angry and screamed a few...choice words at her in my rage.
She left the room and got one of the large towels from the bathroom. She came back and began snapping me with it, screaming about how I was the most disrespectful child on the face of the earth. In turn I got up from my chair screaming about how I didn't care considering how evil and rude and stupid she was.
I went to the bathroom and got a towel of my own and began snapping her back. I wasn't about to let her snap me and not fight back. We screamed and snapped and screamed some more. It was very noisy. We didn't even notice my dad and brother leave the house.
I realize now that it was not a good idea to fight with her like that but I had no desire to listen to her after she had torn up my hard work. (It had taken me like 4 years to get that far because of school.) It was a huge mistake to do something like that and I regret it but I can't take it back so I have to live with it.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Blog for the First Week
People often ask me -- well, students often ask me; adults are usually too polite to ask me such a personal question -- why I don't want to have children. It seems to me that the answer is pretty obvious: I was a child, and I remember how I treated my parents. What other reason do I need?
The teenage years are supposed to be a time of rebellion, a time when we try to separate ourselves from our families so we can be individuals, become our own people instead of a member of the group into which we were born. I suppose I can understand that, but the question I ask myself is, "Did I really need to be that much of a jerk?" I was a jerk, a complete and utter twit, in many ways and to many people, and I've always wished I hadn't acted the way I did. There are very few things in my past that I regret, but one of the big ones is the way I treated my parents when I was a teenager.
Two things stand out in my memory. Actually, as I'm sitting here writing this, more bad memories keep floating up in my mind like bubbles of noxious gas in a fetid swamp; I keep thinking, "Oh, and there was that time I . . . and what about when . . . oh yeah, I forgot about that one. That was a bad one." And I wasn't even a bad kid -- I can't imagine what some of my least favorite students could put on their lists. But one thing that stands out strongly in my head was when I cursed at my mother.
I love my mother. She's a wonderful woman, kind, generous, fun, adventurous, brave -- everything a mom should be. But like any mother, she can be kind of a nag; a problem worsened, of course, by my habit of ignoring her when she asked me to do something like clean my room or take out the garbage. I don't honestly remember what she was telling me to do that time; it was most likely something about the public area of the house, the living room or dining room or kitchen, and cleaning up the mess I left in there. That's usually what it was. I've always been a slob, always left a trail of coat/hat/gloves/backpack/shoes through the house from the front door, always left dirty dishes wherever I ate the food off of them or at best in a leaning tower of porcelain in the kitchen sink. My mother would tell me, again and again, to clean up this mess and that mess, but since she worked full time and also volunteered at a local charity, she was usually telling me this on her way out the door, and I would say, "Okay," and then go right back to watching TV or playing video games after she was gone. Sometimes I even meant to clean up in a few minutes, but I rarely did it.
It could have been any year I was in high school; it could have been any room of the house; it could have been any occasion, a visiting friend or relative, Spring Cleaning, or just my mom reaching crisis point with the filth, about to start running through the house wild-eyed, pointing and yelling, "UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!" like some foaming-at-the-mouth Puritan transported from the Salem witch trials to downtown Portland. Whatever it was, she asked me to clean up, then told me to, then told me in a loud voice, and finally yelled at me -- and for whatever reason, whether I was in a bad mood or just feeling like a particularly rebellious teenager, when she yelled, I yelled back. But where she had said something like, "Dusty, CLEAN UP THAT MESS!" I yelled, "Freak out!" But I didn't yell "out," I said, "off;" and instead of "Freak," I yelled a word that started with F, and rhymed with duck.
I've never seen my father that angry. Ever. Not even when my brother almost burned the house down, trying to dry his wet laundry on top of a lamp (Please note: don't do that.). That's the closest I've ever come to being punched, and it was only my father's non-violent nature that saved me -- that and a lot of begging. But it wasn't fear that made me regret what I said; actually, it wasn't my father at all. It was the look on my mother's face. I still remember how hurt she looked when I said that.
I have no justification for saying what I did; I don't even remember the explanation, though I think I remember just thinking -- I wonder if I could get away with this. If my father hadn't been in the room, I probably would have; Mom was never the disciplinarian. But getting away with it wouldn't have made it all right. Nothing would have made it all right. I shouldn't have said that to her, plain and simple. I've always regretted it.
QUESTION FOR THE WEEK:
What have you done that you regretted? Why did you do it? What should you have done instead?
(Note: it doesn't have to be something you feel bad about, just something you would/should have done differently.)
Blogs must be posted on this site by Friday, February 6.
The teenage years are supposed to be a time of rebellion, a time when we try to separate ourselves from our families so we can be individuals, become our own people instead of a member of the group into which we were born. I suppose I can understand that, but the question I ask myself is, "Did I really need to be that much of a jerk?" I was a jerk, a complete and utter twit, in many ways and to many people, and I've always wished I hadn't acted the way I did. There are very few things in my past that I regret, but one of the big ones is the way I treated my parents when I was a teenager.
Two things stand out in my memory. Actually, as I'm sitting here writing this, more bad memories keep floating up in my mind like bubbles of noxious gas in a fetid swamp; I keep thinking, "Oh, and there was that time I . . . and what about when . . . oh yeah, I forgot about that one. That was a bad one." And I wasn't even a bad kid -- I can't imagine what some of my least favorite students could put on their lists. But one thing that stands out strongly in my head was when I cursed at my mother.
I love my mother. She's a wonderful woman, kind, generous, fun, adventurous, brave -- everything a mom should be. But like any mother, she can be kind of a nag; a problem worsened, of course, by my habit of ignoring her when she asked me to do something like clean my room or take out the garbage. I don't honestly remember what she was telling me to do that time; it was most likely something about the public area of the house, the living room or dining room or kitchen, and cleaning up the mess I left in there. That's usually what it was. I've always been a slob, always left a trail of coat/hat/gloves/backpack/shoes through the house from the front door, always left dirty dishes wherever I ate the food off of them or at best in a leaning tower of porcelain in the kitchen sink. My mother would tell me, again and again, to clean up this mess and that mess, but since she worked full time and also volunteered at a local charity, she was usually telling me this on her way out the door, and I would say, "Okay," and then go right back to watching TV or playing video games after she was gone. Sometimes I even meant to clean up in a few minutes, but I rarely did it.
It could have been any year I was in high school; it could have been any room of the house; it could have been any occasion, a visiting friend or relative, Spring Cleaning, or just my mom reaching crisis point with the filth, about to start running through the house wild-eyed, pointing and yelling, "UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!" like some foaming-at-the-mouth Puritan transported from the Salem witch trials to downtown Portland. Whatever it was, she asked me to clean up, then told me to, then told me in a loud voice, and finally yelled at me -- and for whatever reason, whether I was in a bad mood or just feeling like a particularly rebellious teenager, when she yelled, I yelled back. But where she had said something like, "Dusty, CLEAN UP THAT MESS!" I yelled, "Freak out!" But I didn't yell "out," I said, "off;" and instead of "Freak," I yelled a word that started with F, and rhymed with duck.
I've never seen my father that angry. Ever. Not even when my brother almost burned the house down, trying to dry his wet laundry on top of a lamp (Please note: don't do that.). That's the closest I've ever come to being punched, and it was only my father's non-violent nature that saved me -- that and a lot of begging. But it wasn't fear that made me regret what I said; actually, it wasn't my father at all. It was the look on my mother's face. I still remember how hurt she looked when I said that.
I have no justification for saying what I did; I don't even remember the explanation, though I think I remember just thinking -- I wonder if I could get away with this. If my father hadn't been in the room, I probably would have; Mom was never the disciplinarian. But getting away with it wouldn't have made it all right. Nothing would have made it all right. I shouldn't have said that to her, plain and simple. I've always regretted it.
QUESTION FOR THE WEEK:
What have you done that you regretted? Why did you do it? What should you have done instead?
(Note: it doesn't have to be something you feel bad about, just something you would/should have done differently.)
Blogs must be posted on this site by Friday, February 6.
How It Works
Every weekend, I will post a blog on this page. At the end of the blog, I will ask a question or two, which will relate to the topic of my blog. By the following Friday, each student in the class will need to post a blog on this same page, relating to the topic posted the previous weekend. Your blogs must be appropriate for school, and as correct and as well-written as you can make them. Each student will also be required to post two comments on other students' blogs from the previous week. All comments must be polite. Comments do not need to be long, but they must be substantive -- "lol" is not enough. You must actually say something. Any criticism must be constructive.
Now. Let's blog.
Now. Let's blog.
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