Monday, Feruary 24, 1997 (age 12)

It is 10:40. Today was terriffic! We had salubrious rice and corn for dinner. Our Midevel Progects are due on March 10th . . . Today was illustrious, vital, exelent, grand, and great. Well, Love-Ya! Good-Night!

Saturday, Febuary 1, 1997 (age 12)

Lindsay just made me move from where I was first. I was leaning on the fridge and then she told me to move and said, "You don't need to lean on the fridge!" Then she leaned on it and I said, "Well you don't need to lean on the fridge!" Then she said "Well my back hurts." Then she spanked me. Then I said, "Well so does mine!" and I spanked her. Then she said, "So go lay doun," and pushed me away. For one thing, my back probably hurts more than hers, and for another thing, she's the one that hurt my back, and for another thing, chickens lay eggs and people lie down. She should have said, "So go lie down." then again, she shouldn't have been so selfish.

Friday, January 31, 1997

January has been so short! Maibie just another 30 or 31 days of a month for you, but It has been practacly here and gone for me. Dad and Lindsay went to Greece, and Russell and I stayed home and took turns on the computer. Dad told me his favorete Sonnet. It's # 34. It goes like this:

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth, without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'er take me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in thier rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my sun-beaten face,
For no man well of such salve can speak
That heals the wound and cures not the discrace.
Nor can thy shame give phisic to my grief;
Though thou repent, I have still the loss.
The ofender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross.

Ah! but those tears are pearl wich thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.


I say one sonnet equals one person. Everyone can relat to one of Shakespere's sonnets, whether they like reading Shakespere or not. I love Shakespere, and I am begining to understand his way of writing.
Dad and I had a talk, and he appoligized for being so busy and not having time for me sometimes. I said it's okay, and he read me his favorete Shakespere sonnet. I love my dad. . .I hate the divorse, and I wish it were all a dream, and I would wake up and Mom and Dad would never have fought, and they made up and everything were fine and I were in 1st grade again and in North Carolina. Then I would know the future, and try to prevent it. This is a dream. All a dream, just a dream. I wish. Well, Good-Night! (today was realy great!)

Mon. Jan. 27, 1997

I wrote a page in my pink journal. (I spelled it right!) It was fun. Today was o.k. I came home sick after lunch, I was feeling nautious and I had a headache. Then I had 4 or 5 hours of sleep, and that caught up my sleep prety much. I need to do that again soon, very soon. It felt so good to be fresh. We didled around for awile then, then my mom went shoping for some things. She got milk and Ice-cream, and pizza, and something else that I don't know what it was. Then we ate dinner.

Monday, January 27, 1997 (age 12)

Hi! Don't worry, I have been writing these last 4 years. I just like to come back once and a while and reread my journals. Yes, I am still Elaine Ball, I am just 12 years old, insted of 8 now. I remember some of these days quite clearly. I am thank-ful for jornals (I still can't spell it.), so I can remember the events of my life so vividly. Now that I look back, I realize, I don't want to grow up. I want time to stop, and life to keep going, but I kind-of do want to grow up. Well, look in my big red journal that starts with Saturday, July 27, 1996. Good-Night! And, back to old tradition;

I
LOVE
YOU!

(I had terrible handwriting!) see-ya!

May 9, 1993 (age 8)

I Love my mother very much. It is mother's Day. I like mother's Day Becuse I can help my mother evry minite of the day.

Later . . .

It's at the last moment, I was trying to turn the page of the [magazine] I was looking at, when all of the suden I got cut. At first I THOGHT that I hadent done any harm, then I notesed I was in hon[or]able troble becuse I all of the sudn I was crying and asking for a bandade, even thghow, I new we dident have any. I finely said to myself that I had done no harm, it didn't hurt any-more. I stoped crying and went to my bed, Then I started my Jurnel. Now I can hold in my no-harm-done-hand.

The END

May 8, 1993 (age 8)

Today was good at the begining, and bad at the end. I Hate those kind of days!

I think I feel beter now. I Love my mom, Dad, sister, brother, and cat. I also Love my Relationship, with Carrie.

I Love
you!
(I Love
Carrie!)

May 1st, 1993 (age 8)

. . . When I got home, it seemed like it was the happyest time of my life. My mom was part of it. She was in a happy mood, and She swung me, my brother, and my sister around, and around in circles.

April 29, 1993 (age 8)

Today will be hard for me. Carrie moved about 5 weeks ago. It is hard for me to get along with other people. Some of them are not nice. But most of them are nice to me. IT IS VERY HARD FOR ME! Today was a good day anyways. I kow that I can write to her, and call her. I Love her verry much. I Love you to very much.

April 27, 1993 (age 8)

Today was a very good day. I got my work back, and I had a chek on evrything exsept ONE thing. I was still happy. I was glad that I go a chek on all the rest. I love you. I Like you to do nice things.

I LOVE YOU!

April 9, 1993 (age 8)

Today was a WONDERFULL day! Yesterday was good to. Yesterday night was my date. I went to Baccen-Robens first. I got Rocy Road, and Coockes and Cream. The Rocy Road didn't tast the same as the Food Lion kind. It had marshmeloes instted of Vanila! The Cookes and Cream Just didn't tast write. I didn't know what was wrong with it. Next, I went to Fun - Fun - Fun. I got five ticites, And I wanted a gold ring. The gold rings cost 5 ticits, But, The man at the counter just stuk his finger in the gold ring contaner, and slowly took out TWO gold rings, and handed them to me, then, at the same time, He said, "Here, take two." Then I Handed him my ticits and said that I only had five ticits. He didn't mind. He Just gave them too me. I was so suprised that I took them and went away wondering.

THE END

Dun Dun Dun

So, why exactly did I start this blog?

I started this blog because I wanted to get some things "out there," and being able to get responses to those "things" sounded quite appealing. So, I would like to share some excerpts from my journals, which I have been told in the past should be published someday, on this blog. I have kept a journal since I could write, and my Mom kept one for me since before that. So, when I get to typing up some excerpts periodically on here, I'll probably start with the ones dating before I could write for myself. If I can figure out how to scan in three-year-old art I'll include that, too. But as kind of a prequel, I'd like to share some recent poetry. Please let me know what ya'll think.

beauty
is jinn and a rolled French r
waking to the scent of breakfast
I didn't have to make
the smile of love in your eyes
sun-soaked skin
the smoothness of that spot
and my fingers curling your
curled hair
meaning
is joy infused so deep
by the scent of bacon
laziness
and the sun's sweet heat
feelings exude from your smile
your skin so soft to the touch
of my rough, chapped
lips
love
is life with all its meaning
beauty with all its sadness
yellow smiles and furrowed brows
otherness we can't describe
jinn and a rolled French r

Dreaming in French

I haven't taken a French class for about two years, until this semester, and I think that as of this time tomarow I will be 'pense'ing (thinking), 'mange'ing (eating), and 'dorm'ing (sleeping) in French! I have to study 8 hours a week, and I didn't realize this until today, which means that I'll be studying almost all day tomarow. Next week, I'll definitely spread out the 8 hours better. The great thing is, I love this language . . . I better, if I'm dreaming in it!

"Be like a duck; calm and unruffled on the surface, but paddle like the dickens underneath."

I've been quoting this for years, and finally took it upon myself to figure out where this quote came from (who have I been quoting?) and the answer is...anybody know? Michael Caine! But evidently either I or the person/place I directly heard it from, has changed it. His original quote was, "Be like a duck. Calm on the surface, but always paddling like the dickens underneath." Maybe I'm vain, but I like my version better. I like the 'unruffled,' wherever it came from.

Explanations

Since before I can remember, let's say when I was three, each time I became a new age, that new age became my new "favorite number." When I was four, when asked, "What is your favorite number?" I of course responded, "Four!" When I was five, it was five. And when I was six, at some point during that fateful year, I decided that this had gone on quite long enough (years are very long periods of time for children) and my favorite number, from then on, would remain six.

Also at that time I decide the other "favorites" were not to change any more; my favorite letter of the alphabet has remained "T" because my best friend Terri's name began with that letter. My favorite season has remained "Autumn" because it is so colorful and beautiful. And my favorite color has remained Yellow. So hopefuly these tidbits help you remember how to get to this domain name: www.yellow6.blogspot.com