Whatever's Floating Around

I'm hungry.

I'm exhausted.

I have Algebra homework to do.

And I can't bring myself to do it.

 

This was written for Brigit's Flame community.

“There it goes.”

           
I turned away from the silver scalpel in my bloodied gloves. Dr. Cohen’s dark eyes twinkled with the tease of withheld knowledge, and when I looked at her, she hastily turned away. I had heard the rumors,  the reason I was so insistent about saving this woman, when the prospect of success was so very, very slim.

 

            You think you’re so smart.

            In truth, you know nothing.

            You just pretend that the world comes to you.

            So very easily.

            Liar.

            Show off.

 
“Don’t feel bad,” Dr. Cohen said smugly, “It wasn’t your fault. She had no chance.”

           
“Shut up!” hissed Dr. Leo, “We should be sympathetic, not nasty!” He was so very young. Maybe twenty five or thirty. And he was so very annoying.

 

            Can’t you just shut up?

            Or do you have to pretend that you know so much?

            But you’re not any better than the rest.

            You’re just a baby bird, pretending you can fly.

            Liar.

            Show off.

 
I ripped the gloves from my sweaty hands and stormed out of the Operation Room. Cries of “Hey, where are you going?” and “You can’t just leave…” followed me out, but I walked away. So far away that their voices and her flat-lining faded into the distance.

“There it goes.”

That was how Dr. Cohen had so eloquently put it when Isabelle's heart stopped; just stopped, and she slipped away. So elegant, so beautiful. Even in death. Her soft, auburn hair. Her deep, brown eyes. Her small, perfect hands that cupped my face when she kissed me.

 

            I’ve killed you.

            And now you’re dead.

            I know it’s my fault.

            Please, don’t pretend otherwise.

            Please, don’t pretend for me.

Yom Kippur has officially begun, and as is tradition I have some things to apologize to ya'll at LJ for:

1. Not blogging as often as I used to
    
2. Not commenting as often as I used to

Wish me luck on this wonderful fast! :(
I just got food poisoning too, so right before I have no-eating for 24 hours, I throw up all the food I've eaten today. Wonderful, right?

This is an awesome community for anyone who's interested in writing. Check it out!

We went to a different synagogue today. My brother wants to have his Bar Mitzvah there; helikes it for its small community, but its very traditional. I was the only female wearing a tallis and/or a kippah. (I remembered them today!)

I believe you can judge the quality of a service on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur by your quanity of fear. On Rosh Hashanah, it is believed that God writes down the fate of every human being for the following year. On Yom Kippur, He/She/It seals the Book of Life.

Yestrday I was thinking: Oh, please God. Don't kill me yet. I'm not ready to die!
Today I was thinking: Oh, God! Please kill me! This is so boring!

(In case you're reading this, God; today, at shul, I wasn't being serious.)

I'm not particularly religous, and I'm not sure if I have faith in God, but every time the High Holidays roll around, I fear for my life. It's almost as if a small part of me is thinking, 'Just in case He/She/It's there; beg, repent, fast, FEAR!' 
 

"On Rosh Hashanah it is written; on Yom Kippur it is sealed
How many shall pass on; how many shall come to be
Who shall live and who shall die"

As the sun slips closer to the horizon, the first day of Rosh Hashanah comes to an end. It is officially the new year!

(I missed school today, so I have un monton of homework to make up, and I doubt I'll finish before I come back to school Thurseday!)

We spent about 3 hours in temple. I was sad because I forgot my beautiful tallis for the Priestly Benediction. I also forgot my gorgeous kippah, so I had to wear one of the synagogue's, which I believe are made out of the same material as a shower curtain.

"On Rosh Hashanah it is written; on Yom Kippur it is sealed
How many shall pass on; how many shall come to be
Who shall live, and who shall die"

YES! They have a Writer's Block on this! How am I celebrating? My grandmother came into town, and right now, we have kougle, Matzo Ball Soup, and of course, APPLES AND HONEY in the kitchen.

This is my last post until year 5769!

L'shana Tova! (To a good year!) 

This was written for Brigit's Flame community.

I used to be…different. I was pretty and popular, my skin was flawless and my hair was blond. My fingernails were perfectly manicured and my lips were a constant, dazzling smirk. I was the type of girl who would spread rumors about you the moment your back was turned, who would call you a slut in front of everybody and leave death threats in your locker. I was the type of girl who would cut your throat the second your eyes began to droop.

           
My life was never ending murder and mayhem, all of it caused by me.

It all changed night of the Prom. I hardly remember my date at all, but his name was Jeff…Jack…something that started with a ‘J’. One thing led to the next, I guess, and within two weeks I learned that I was pregnant.

           
My mother didn’t know what to do when I told her. She sent me to my room, and the next morning, informed me that I would learn that being a mother was harder than it seemed. No matter what, I was having that baby. Even if it meant I had to drop out of school, I was having that baby.

           
The next few months were a blur. Jeff or Jack, whatever it was, graduated to Illinois State on a baseball scholarship. My mother began to get excited over the idea that there was going to be a baby in the house again. My feet blistered, my back ached, and when I woke up in the morning, all I wanted to do was roll over and vomit.

           
He was born three months early. When the doctors passed him into my arms, he was cold and gray and thin. He opened his brilliant, blue eyes just a sliver, and he smiled. It was a small smile, it was more like his lips had twitched, but it filled me with such warm-heartened happiness that I forgot the horrors of childbirth, and I realized how pointless my life had been beforehand.

           
Then he died.

           
Right there. While I held him in my arms.

           
I named him Ben-Oni, as biblical Rachel had originally done, because as he died, I was surely dying too. Ben-Oni was the son of my sorrows.

           
My life was meaningless after that. I attempted suicide twice, and failed both times. I then understood that I was meant to live through this suffering. It was probably punishment for the way I treated others in my past life, my life before Ben-Oni.

           
I saw him then, one day in a coffeehouse. He couldn’t have been older than five, and when he turned to look at me, his eyes were so blue and his smile was so beautiful, I recognized him right away.

           
Ben-Oni, my son.

           
I beckoned him over and we chatted for a little. The more we talked, the more I was convinced he was my son, so I led him to my car and drove away.

Some of you are probably thinking, "Where has smz12231994 been this past couple days? She always comments on my posts, and she hasn't been for at least a week! I hope she's not dead!"

Well, have no fear! I am alive and well, but drowning in a pool of overwork. From the moment I arrive home, to about 10 P.M. each night, I do nonstop homework.

Also, Brisingr came out last night! I'm on page 167.

My friends and I threw a Brisingr party. We all "claimed" guys from the book. I claimed Roran, and my friends claimed Eragon, Murtagh, Arya's dead boyfriend, Brom, and Durza. We watched the movie, which I hate, but I had a lot of giggles making fun of. It was so weird, because even though girls are always going on about how hot Actor Eragon is, we all found him pretty ugly, but we thought Actor Brom was really handsome. If you ever watch that movie, you NEED to count how many times Actor Eragon flares his nostrils. It's really weird. Also, when you watch Eragon and Brom fight with sticks, you NEED to put your perverted mind set on.

ERAGON: My cousin, Roran, and I have trained.
BROM: Oh.
ERAGON: With swords.

Finished reading this for the release of Brisingr, and, of course, had to write a review.

First off, the romance! There were moments that made me awww, moments that made me sympathize, but most of all moments that made me groan. Eragon and Saphira make a numerous amounts of mistakes as they blunder blindly along the path of adolescence. I am happy, however, that we had a chance to learn something new about Saphira.

Second, Roran! I'm amazed at how different Christopher Paolini made Roran from Eragon. Roran's more serious, more mature, and more sensitive. I think that it's very interesting that he counts the amount of people he's killed in horror, while Eragon pretty much forgot about it the moment the deed was done.  

Murtagh, despite all the magic Galbatorix has wrought over him, is still the same guy with the same philosophies. When Eragon suggest that if Murtagh allows Eragon to kill him, thousands of lives would be spared, Murtagh retaliates with, "No stranger's life is more important than Thorn's or my own," a line he basically copied word for word from Eragon.

The first time I read Eldest, it was a slow read, but this time the plot flashed before my eyes, quickening in pace as it reached its finale. It seems like such a short time ago, Eragon was leaving Palacnar Valley, talkative, questioning, and overeager.

 

( My Brisingr Theories (Contains Official Spoilers) )

I just finished watching this movie, and it was so cute! Of course, I've always had a soft spot for Disney princess movies, (I can't for Princess and the Frog to come out!) but compared to the others, it was a lot of fun, and filled with many laughs.

In a negative light, Aladdin's animation wasn't the best, but it was created in the early 1990's, and as I don't honestly remember that far back, I'm sure the graphics were very good for its time.

The music was great. A couple of years ago, I did a performance of Aladdin Jr., so I knew all of the songs, and had a lot of fun singing along. I couldn't tell you which song was my favorite, or even my least favorite, because each had something unique to be proud of.

Aladdin has to be my favorite Disney prince. He's very realistic when it comes to teenage boys. Despite being in love with Princess Jasmine, he saw no issue in flirting with with a group of girls the Genie magicked up. Vise versa, when Jasmine kissed Jafar, he became insanely jealous.

GENIE: Why don't you try telling her the TRUTH?
ALADDIN: This isn't time for foolishness, Genie. I need to be smoth, confident...

lol! I also liked this part a lot.

ALADDIN: I don't go to the marketplace! I have servants who do that for me! In fact, I have servants who go to the marketplace for my servants!

I love Google. It's made my life a lot easier. I never avoid its power. The other day, my mom googled yahoo and then used yahoo's search engine to look something up. Why didn't she just google whatever she wanted to look up? I don't know. It's just best to succumb to google's amazing power.

Tiredness itches
My eyes, but I continue
To trudge through the day