Lauren’s blog

  First and far most, this has nothing to do with me not liking Obama because he is black. However it did push me a little over the edge that just about every single black person in my school were walking around acting like they owned the school screaming, "We rule!", while not letting the white people pass through them. So, yeah, maybe I do have  a bitter taste in my mouth after that. Then I heard how Michelle was decorating the white house in African tribal colors and such. That just pushed me a little further because this is not Africa, sweetie, it's the United States of America. Plus, the Obamas are further off from being African than me (lOl). The comedian, Ralphie May, once did a stand up in front of a ton of black people and bluntly said, "We have a room full of black people and have even one of you been to Africa. Okay, one lady over there. Okay you're African American, the rest of you are black!". Anyways, I'm getting off topic here. This is what I wanted to show everyone:

  Bad press, including major mockery of the plan by comedian Jon Stewart, led to President Obama abandoning his proposal to require veterans carry private health insurance to cover the estimated $540 million annual cost to the federal government of treatment for injuries to military personnel received during their tours on active duty.

The President admitted that he was puzzled by the magnitude of the opposition to his proposal.
"Look, it's an all volunteer force," Obama complained..
"Nobody made these guys go to war. They had to have known and accepted the risks. Now they whine about bearing the costs of their choice? It doesn't compute..."

"I thought these were people who were proud to sacrifice for their country," Obama continued. "I wasn't asking for blood, just money. With the country facing the worst financial crisis in its history, I'd have thought that the patriotic thing to do would be to try to help reduce the nation's deficit. I guess I underestimated the selfishness of some of my fellow Americans."

Please pass this on to every vet and their families whom you know
 
  Are you freaking kidding me? Now our vets are selfish? Just do me a favor, Obama, just you, and all the black people that think they would have it better in Africa and take your asses back there because this is ridiculous. Just because we have a black president now doesn't mean that it's good for our country. It doesn't matter what color or sex you are, I think maybe we should focus on how good they would be for our country and how capable they are of running our country right. Don't get me wrong, I think Bush screwed our country over big time, but at least people would talk about that. I never hear anyone talking about the shitty moves Obama already pulled because half of us are scared that the race card is going to be pulled on us. Well, I frankly do not care. I didn't want Obama to be our president to begin with just because I think instead of spending all our time, energy, and money on helping out other countries, we should focus on helping out ourselves at a least a little bit more first. Then again, I didn't like Mcaine either. He was against having health insurance cover birth control, because that apparently wasn't necessary, but he was all for our health insurace covering Viagra. Good idea, moron. Let's have a bunch of pregnant teens and people who can't afford babies running around, as long as you can get a woody, you disgusting old man. Where is this country going with people like this at the top of the list to run this nation that's supposed to be so wonderful? Sorry, Young Jeezy, but I highly doubt this is what Martin Luther King Jr. meant when he said he had a dream.
 

(haha)
    Ever since I can remember, in any school paper I've written about my role model, favorite person, or hero, it was always my aunt Michelle. Now, she would like to say this is because I'm a suck up, but in all honesty, she really is the most inspirational and admirable person in my life. So yesterday when my English teacher told the class we had to write a paper on our hero, I wrote about my aunt Michelle, of course.
    She has been through so much and still stands proud and strong to this day. She's a little less than perfect, but you'd never guess. Although I may sometimes let on like I don't like it when she says I am just like her, it makes me feel so good about myself to have anyone, especially her, think so highly of me. I hope that when I get old enough to live on my own and make more decisions and learn some hard lessons I will stay strong and beautiful like she is. I love you, aunt Michelle.

    So, as you might have read in my last blog, I've been doing wonderful in school this year, and I am very proud of myself. The only problem with this is that now I feel like I'm trying too hard to make everyone happy. I have too many people to please and so now I am sick. Literally. I went to school of course because I have to keep doing good, but if it weren't for the fact that everyone is watching me now, I would have been the one at home with chicken soup.
    I still don't think my mom cares that I'm doing so good. She never appreciates all the good things I'm doing, it's just any time I do anything wrong, that's when I get to hear about it. Sure, my aunt Michelle tells me how good I'm doing, my grandma tells me how good I'm doing, in fact, even my neighbor, Nina, tells me how good I'm doing, but that doesn't seem to mean so much when my own mother doesn't see it. I want to be mature about it and just keep telliing myself that she notices and she's just stressed, but the child part of me wants to cry and yell at her for it. It feels like no matter what I accomplish, all she will ever see is a screw up.
    Any way, I have a billion other things on my mind, but I think rather than writing them I'm going to go to sleep. Hopefully I'll feel all better tomorrow. Wish me luck.

I have a feeling that this school year is going to be the first year in a long time that I can brag about. Most of my other years since sixth grade, I've just given up hope because I was so sucked in to a depression to the point where school was the last thing I was worrying about.
    This is why I am so proud to say, that this year is different. Some people may say that because it's only the third week, I have nothing to brag about yet. I disagree very strongly. I have something to look forward to now. I'm happy and excited because now that I'm doing well in school, everything else is going great in my life. I can't remember the last time I was this proud of myself. In fact, I'm starting to tear up just thinking of how far I've come over the years. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure it stays this way.
    Sometimes I forget how smart I really am, but today I was reminded. We had to take an SRI test, I have no idea what that stands for but basically it shows us what our reading level is. I printed out my test score and it said my lexile level (reading level) was 1500*. I had no idea what the star meant because no one else had one next to their scores, so I asked my English teacher. I was in amazement when she told me that it meant I had gotten the highest score anyone could possibly get. Someone asked to see my paper and they were shocked, too. I got a lot of rude comments like, "Wow, I didn't think you were smart.", or, "That only means you can understand what you read.". I didn't let it get to me, though, because no matter what anyone said, I knew I was amazing. 
    I called my mom as soon as I got home to tell her, and I was glad to hear her excited voice on the other end of the line, even though she is in Arkansas for the weekend. I would tell it to the world if I didn't care about looking overly cocky. A lot of people in my class that saw my score said that made me nerdy, but I don't think so. I can't believe it took me this long to realize it, but you don't have to be nerdy to be smart. In fact, you don't even have to be smart to be nerdy. That's just who you are, and personally I am not a nerd. I'm just a very intelligent young lady and I'm just starting to figure it out.

    Well, I've only been on Vox for a little while now, but I already LOVE it. I enjoy hearing from all of you so much! I'm glad my aunt put in a good word for me. It feels so good to have my feelings validated or even heard. I know I have so much bottled up inside me that I need to get out, but sometimes it's hard to do that by just saying it. I used to write journal entries on my computer when I got upset, and delete them afterwards, but I think it's a lot more helpful when I know that they're actually being read without having to embarrass myself over it.
    So, in case you're wondering what my latest feeling is, it's a four letter word that anyone can feel: LOVE! There's all of these songs and even bands, like the Four Letter Lie, that only think negatively about it, but I'm having only the most pleasant time with it. I can't stand it when somebody tells me or anyone else, for that matter, that they don't know what love is because they are too young. I have been with Ethan for close to 2 years now, which isn't a lifetime I realize, but it's been well over long enough for me to know how I feel about him. I'm not saying we're definitely going to grow up and get married and all that jazz, because no one knows what's going to happen in the future, even as much as we'd like to.
    My mom used to always tell me that we weren't going to be together forever and that we don't know anything about being in a relationship, but even if she is 100% on the money, why would she want to fill me with doubt like that? A part of me thinks it's because for the longest time, all she had was bad relationships. Her relationship with my dad went sour before I was even a year old, so I guess it's a good thing they figured out it wasn't going to work before I got old enough to know that their relationship wasn't a good one. She was dating my brother's dad, Chris, for almost all of my life and he verbally and probably physically abused her (but I'm certain if he ever touched her she wouldn't let me know, which is understandable), he didn't have a job most of the time, and he was an alcoholic. He ended up being even more terrible than he sounded there for reasons I'm not going to get into. The final straw was when he cheated on her and got another girl pregnant, which wasn't all that shocking to me when I found that out. 
    She has a nice boyfriend of about 2 years now who is everything Chris wasn't and more. I'm really glad she finally found someone who isn't a douche bag. It's convenient, too, since he only lives a couple of houses up, so they never fight. I'm not used to either of my parents being in a relationship where there wasn't constant yelling and fighting. It's a nice change to have her new boyfriend, Tim, and my dad's new wife, Amy, in my life now.
    I'm going to try my best to make sure not to end up taking too long to figure it all out like my parents did. I want my kids to grow up as normal and as peaceful as possible, no matter what it takes. I realize this is all going to be a long while down the road, but this is something I've decided early that I'm going to be sure to do.

 
 Can anyone tell me why there are so many people in this world that love to have something to complain about? It seems no matter what age you're at, what race or ethnicity you are, female, male, we all love to complain. This world lives on drama. Yes, I'll admit, drama can be fun sometimes, but when it's not present in my life, I enjoy my time away from it, but yet I see so many others searching for it. Now, keep in mind that anything I say in my blogs is not to offend or target anyone, so try not to let anything I say offend you. I realize that not everyone in a certain group is like this, so don't think I'm trying to profile anyone here.
    Today, in my English class, something got to me so bad that I would have loved to just say it right then and there, but I couldn't because God only knows how long I would have been suspended for. Our English teacher asked us if anyone knew what was going on with blacks and whites in the '50's, and of course she got no response. Our classroom was made up of about half black and half white people, and not a single person knew that the segregation was going on at that time. So I guess what I'm getting at here is if most of the African American teenagers at our school don't care enough about what happened to even learn about it, why do they complain so much that they were mistreated. Yes, it was wrong that our grandparents or parents went through that with theirs, but then why is our generation being punished for that? All it is doing is make whites resent their race more, and for that, they are racist against us, too (By the way, I would never be ignorant or mean to anyone just because of their skin color. Everyone has to give me a reason to not like them; black, white, or yellow).
    Trust me, I'm not saying that black people in my school are the only ones who love to complain. I mean, my mother, no matter how well I'm doing, complains about every move I make, and it drives me insane. I'm sure it's just a mother thing, but that really doesn't make the situation any better. I think that 99% of our arguments are because she never looks at the positive. Why does she not look at the positive? Because it is so much easier to look at the negative. Sure, anyone can point out someone's flaws, but it takes a better person to see their gifts and talents.
    There are girls in my school who go around bumping into people purposely, just so they can yell at them and turn it into the other person's fault. But do you know who are the worst type of complainers in my eyes? People who purposely piss off a teacher, and then mouth off saying,"This is bullshit. This is whack." Stop it! You know what you're doing. So whatever if you're a butt hole and want to go out of your way to make an adult mad, but don't act shocked and insulted when they try to put you in place.
    If you are any of these types of people, please do everyone and yourself, for that matter, a favor and next time you want to complain about something that's unnecessary to complain about, instead think of something good to say. It might surprise you how much better it feels once you try it.

    A few nights ago, I had a really strange and creepy dream. I dreamed that I brought a statue of a demon back to my boyfriend, Ethan's, house. Shortly afterward (in the dream), I started getting this gut instinct that I was possessed. Of course, even in my dream, I was pretty freaking scared. So, I begged and cried to Ethan's mother to take me to a confessional so that I would be rescued from the devil, but she insisted that i couldn't be and she didn't want me to see her son anymore if I was possessed. Distraught, I ran away into some kind of forest that reminded me of Deliverance. I climbed up some bizarre and outrageous obstacles, and once I finally reached the top, I saw a cabin that was long like a trailer. Curious of what was inside, I cautiously walked in. I peeked around a wall once I got down the hallway of the cabin and found Angelina Jolie chatting with a man who looked like one of the people from the Hills Have Eyes. I got panicked after I saw the man, so I ran out of house and attempted to find my way out of the forest. I could no longer remember how to get out of there, and once I realized I was lost, I stopped and started bawling. Then, out of the blue, my father, Ethan's Uncle Jason, and my cousin Danielle appeared. I told them about the cabin and, as my luck would be, they wanted to go check it out. So, I followed closely, acting more fearful and timid than Piglet. As we walked up to the cabin (actually, I tip-toed), all of them were being loud and obnoxious. I warned them that if they didn't quiet down, we would be caught and the hideous man would torture and kill us all. They started to quiet down a bit after we got inside the cabin, but at this point all was pitch black and none of us could tell where we were going. So, I pulled a candle out of my pocket (hey, it's just a dream!) and lit it. There was just enough light coming from it so that we could focus on one object at a time. I circled all around so that we could see our surroundings, and just when the candle light hit my father, I saw the horrible man behind him. I shouted, but it was too late. The man already had his arm around my dad. Then, something really strange happened. Everyone started laughing, including my dad and the man. I was so confused and in shock. A couple more deformed siblings of his came out and took each of us by the hand and lead us to a dinner table where we sat down, ate, and laughed the rest of the night. Then I woke up.

    Well it turns out that today I got the opportunity to go to church today with Ethan's family, which I was not going to pass up after that terrible dream. I normally don't like church because it bores me to death or I would rather be asleep, but this time wasn't all that painful. But I also remembered something about myself that I had just about forgotten since I hadn't been to church in so long: I always get the sudden urge to cry at random points when I'm in church. I have always done this and never discussed it with anyone. I guess I just never really thought anything of it until now. I just have no idea why this happens. It doesn't matter what the sermon's about, or what kind of music is playing. Even when we closed our eyes and bowed our heads to pray, I felt a little tear drop come down my cheek. Being myself, I would never want to let anyone see this because it would look odd, so I kept it all in. I wasn't sad or depressed or anything like that, I just felt the tears building up behind my eyes getting ready to pour out like a big waterfall. Now that I'm back home, I don't feel like that at all. Of course, now I'm all frustrated and puzzled about all of this. Is there something in the back of my mind when I go to church that upsets me? Is it just that I'm so moved and don't even realize it? Or is it somewhere in my subconscious that I've done such terrible things and I don't deserve to be there? I'm not sure of which one it is or if it's any of that. I mean, I don't think I'm a bad person. Don't get me wrong, I've done some bad things, I just don't think that makes me a bad person. I know I have a good heart. And I never feel like really moved after church or during church. Maybe I'm just looking too deep into things. Still, it's hard not to wonder...
  

    So, during this first week of school, our World History class has been learning all about ancient civilizations. Ancient Mesopotamia had a ruler named Hammurabi, which was their most famous and powerful ruler. He had a long list of laws and punishments to go along with each law. Now obviously, he is not a personal acquaintance of mine, but judging by his laws, he was a very strict and brutal man. I'll give you a couple examples of his laws so that you can judge for yourself: If you are a physician, and you are operating on a tumor behind an eye and cut out the eye, both of your hands will be cut off (so that you can no longer operate on anyone). If you are a builder and the house you built collapses on someone's son and kills him, then your son will be killed in exchange. If you accused somebody of breaking a law or wronging you and brought them to court over it, if you couldn't prove them wrong, you were executed.
    At this point, you're probably thinking, "Why in the hell would I bring up these horrid laws? Are you trying to upset someone?". Well, I'm bringing this up because, as inhumane as it may sound, he is actually a bit admirable to me. I realize that in many cases, if a doctor or a builder make a mistake, it is accidental, but many of these accidental incidents are preventable. If people in America weren't so damn lazy and ignorant, then many unfortunate accidents would not occur. It is no secret that we are the most sue-happy country in the world. Do you think there would be so many people crying wolf if we had some of the laws that Mesopotamians had? I didn't think so.
    If I were president or ruler, I would have similar laws as Hammurabi did. Since I would be imitating his rules, it would be named after myself, just as he did. Of course, there would be some alterations on his rules to put them up to date a bit. I would not execute anyone over minor mistakes as he did, but there would be harsher laws than we have now.
    So many people walk around wondering why criminals have the nerve to commit the same crime over and over again even after they have been punished. This is partially because they have something wrong with them mentally, and partially because we give them a fraction of the treatment they deserve most of the time. If you had the desire to do something legally or morally wrong, and virtually nothing was stopping you, why wouldn't you do it? We need to stop treating criminals like children and give them what they truly deserve.
    One of my old friend's mother used o have morphine pills prescribed to her that she takes daily...for minor back pain. She also has volium prescribed to her. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not doubting that it sucks to have back pain, but c'mon. Morphine? Voluim? Are doctors today so ignorant that it just doesn't matter what they prescribe? How is it that only a small portion of these doctors are caught?
    Another thing that really ticks me off about our legal system is that we can sue for the stupidest freaking reasons. When was it necessary to get millions of dollars because you spilled a hot drink on yourself that wasn't labeled with a caution sign? I think that if you were to grant someone with that kind of money for that, they should legally be considered retarded because that's what they are if they cannot figure out that coffee straight out of the pot will be HOT. Maybe they should have their GED reevaluated.
    So, I guess what I'm getting at here, is that even though this ancient ruler may seem a bit harsh, in actuality, he was indeed a smart man, especially considering his time. For anyone who is offended by anything I've said in this blog, I would tell you I'm sorry, but I would be lying. Really, I stand by everything I've said, and I have the right to do that, which is one of the only good thing our legal system is good for.
   

Which side of your family do you resemble more?

I definitely resemble my father's side more. I'm guessing that's because they have more prominent features. Although I do have my mother's family's thick calves and ankles. I think I have some of the worst features from both sides. For example: I have my father's bushy, dark eye brows, I'm short and pale like my mom, and I have a weird nose like my dad. I think maybe some day I'll learn to appreciate these features a little more. Or better yet, maybe I'll grow up and look like my aunt Michelle, which I'm hoping and guessing is the case.