The World According To Madeleine

I am now done choosing and planning classes for high school. The only thing is if I don’t make it into jazz band, I’ll have to pick another class to take it’s place. I’m very glad it’s done. Even though I really only had to choose one class that doesn’t matter, it was still stressful. I’ve known since fifth grade, when I started band, that I wanted to continue through high school, and ever since I heard the jazz band play, I’ve wanted to be in that. That used up the two electives I have as a freshmen, so the only thing left to choose was a half-credit. All of these classes sounds incredibly lame to me, but some less than others. I decided on consumer economics, since I think we are required to take that class sometime, but I’m not sure. Even if it wasn’t I would’ve had to anyways. I’ll need skills like that sooner than most people in my grade, since I’m the oldest eighth grader, besides some people who were held back. Somehow, to me, even choosing a class that I don’t think matters that much seems like a decision that coulod effect my whole life. Though I’m not sure how…. well, I guess since I’m probably going to end up poor, I should learn how to conserve money, which is one of the things you learn in consumer economics. This class could end up really useful or a complete waste of my time. Oh well, I’ll just see how it goes.

On the subject of band and jazz band, auditions are tomorrow. I’m playing at seven forty, the first one of the day. This makes me nervous because I generally play better in the afternoon, after playing once and have woken up a little. The prepared piece I can do, I just need to concentrate, the chromatic scale the full range of the trumpet I can do, I just need to focus and not get too nervous. Sight reading I’m sure I can do. I’ve heard that it’s easy. Again, I just need to not get nervous, especially if I make a mistake. I know I can do it. My goal is 125 points or more out of 130. I hope that it’s enough to get me into the first five chairs of symphonic band. Some of the current high schoolers are nervous because of me (Mr. Geiman and Ms. Latham are apparently talking about me, which makes me kind of nervous, I have expectations to live up to now.) Some don’t think that a freshmen would be able to be in the first five chairs. However, I don’t want to be in a really good chair if there are many better trumpet players in lower chairs.

Sigh….

Do you like the new theme? Scott changed it for me so there was a picture of my shoes on top. I don’t know why I like taking pictures of my shoes so much, but I do. It’s kind of strange… actually. I’m also obsessed with drawing on my shoes, and just sharpies in general. My shoes look different now, there’s black plaid on one, and it looks super cool, I might add. The picture at the top was when I was still deciding what to draw on them. The last shoes I had were pink, and also decorated, but it was on a different shoe. I also draw on my jeans, but only on some pairs. Most people tell me that my mom and dad will get mad, but they don’t. They’re my jeans, and it looks pretty cool. My dad says as long as I’m not destroying them or writing anything bad. I’m glad he trusts me not to. I draw on my legs too, but I shouldn’t, because I found out that it’s bad for you. I’m not quite sure what it’ll do though, the google search only told me that it was bad. Of course, that could be one of those things that parents tell their kids because they don’t want sharpie all over them. But then again, it could be something proved and scientific. It would be a strange way to get sick, like the time I bruised (or maybe cracked) a rib by running into a doorknob. That was one of my more stupid injuries. Not something that people are going to think of me as brave, or even stupid. They might just think I was sniffing something. But I just ran into a doorknob. I wish I had done that more heroically, like when my dad cracked a rib skiing or broke his nose playing basketball. But I could tell people that I cracked my rib saving two little kids trapped in a burning house. I ran into the burning house, I looked around and heard screams, I followed them. I reached the room, and as a beam was falling, I jumped under, because I need to save them, and it fell on me, but then I lifted it off, and went on to save the little kid’s lives, because all of the firemen said it was too dangerous and we just had to let them die. But that’s not what happened. I’l just continue being the girl who draws on her high tops and jeans and runs into doorknobs.

Last night, right before dinner, the dogs started barking at something. We went and looked. The pigs had escaped. I ran downstairs, then remembered I wanted a sweatshirt, and the ran up stairs and fell and stubbed my toe really bad. I ran down to help, and then I shut the two pigs in the pasture, where they had conviniantly ran to. Mom and Scott got the first one, so I went down to herd one of the pigs up to the pig pen. That one was pretty easy. The last one, was not. She decided that she wanted to stay in the pasture and eat all the good stuff. We finnially herded her back with the other pigs, and then we had to repair the fence. When pigs know you are repairing the fence, they decide that they should go scratch against it. Mom got the pigs to go to the other part and it was much eisier. We got the fence repaired, so we went to eat dinner. I thought it was really fun to chase some pigs into their pen and then fix the fence.

Mom ordered some runner duck eggs for Meg, our border collie. They’re really cool. So are the eggs, you can see the developing duck, it looks like a black speck with viens running through the egg. Runner ducks were bred to go out in the rice paddys and eat the bugs or something.

Here’s a picture.

Aren’t they really cool looking?