Once upon a time, in a far away land, three little children shouted and sang: this will tell your future, this will tell your future, come up and see it, this will tell your future! Put it back-to front, then the first vowel you hear, that goes at the front too, and then read it without fear! Get a piece of paper, write it all down, there are sudden mysteries just waiting to be found!
A: You will live happily for about 3 years before being marginally depressed.
B: Sometimes you will feel a strong urge to go skiing.
C: Your favourite food will change rapidly as you get older - you may never decide!
D: Some people will have grudges on you about the way you treat your peers.
E: Lots of animals will suddenly be magnetically loving towards you - but only if you are nice all-around!
F: Fish will not nibble crackers that you have touched, unless they have been touched by other hands.
J: Arnotts SHAPES will be your favourite snack for a while - guess what the flavour may be!
H: You think the local schools hats are hideous - but protect you well!
I: You will get faster at typing
J: Love is on the way - either that, or it already has!
K: You may want to change your breakfast cereal for a wide mind
L: Not everything will appear as bad as it seems
M:You will be good at playing on the computer
N: You will want a new electronic device
O: Your life will depebnd on something smaller than you
P: When you sleep, you will snore
Q: Your dreams will be hard to reach
R: You will become better at public speaking
S: You will smile in your sleep tonight
T: You will like a new food you have never tasted
U: The book you will next read will have a small impact on you
V: What ever your parents have said about your beauty/handsomness is right in its own way
W: You will hear a ringing in your ears for three solid days
X: Sleeping will become a burden for a few nights
Y: You might find yourself in a position where things go wrong for a bit
Z: keep going!
Hiyaho, welcome to my... interesting blog.
Friday, 11 April 2008
Sunday, 6 April 2008
Grief
When someone says "Oh my pet got put down and it was sad," I think 'OK, it's no big deal.'
When a cat you have known for most of your life is put down, without know so much as knowing it was going to the vet, it's so much different.
The first thing you feel is disbelief. 'It can't happen! You're kidding! SHUT UP!'
Then, when you see their face, it all come flooding at you. Your face is a tortured piece of junk (unless you can control it) that is drenched with salty tears.
Then, you think the 'no big deal' bit. the 'I can live with that' and the 'I'll get over it.'
And then, if your me, afetr that you get the waves of emotion, like poison, flooding at you, drowning you until you scream "Enough!"
But it doesn't stop.
On the fourth of April, 2008, at 11:30, a cat that scratched, meaowed piteously and purrred exoticly died peacfully in its loving owners arms. And for the last time ever, it was stroked with my shaking hand and laid to rest. And I can't shake that feeling that that WAS the last time I ever stroked B.C, and that WAS the last time I saw her peaceful exspression before she was buried under the lemon tree and cascaded with flowers from the garden.
And as I write this, tear fall down my face, because I can't handle grief, it's my first time, all that fond love is pouring out, yet I want it to stay, because I struggle to face the fact that
SHE IS DEAD.
It's obvious, she's not on her bench, meawing and shivering with athritis, she's not trying to climb through the window into the living room. And the cat at my grandparents that was 19 years old died peacfully in my Granddads arms, unaware of my grief.
Dear B.C,
I hope you live a painless life up there.
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
Lots of love,
Neina-Marie
When a cat you have known for most of your life is put down, without know so much as knowing it was going to the vet, it's so much different.
The first thing you feel is disbelief. 'It can't happen! You're kidding! SHUT UP!'
Then, when you see their face, it all come flooding at you. Your face is a tortured piece of junk (unless you can control it) that is drenched with salty tears.
Then, you think the 'no big deal' bit. the 'I can live with that' and the 'I'll get over it.'
And then, if your me, afetr that you get the waves of emotion, like poison, flooding at you, drowning you until you scream "Enough!"
But it doesn't stop.
On the fourth of April, 2008, at 11:30, a cat that scratched, meaowed piteously and purrred exoticly died peacfully in its loving owners arms. And for the last time ever, it was stroked with my shaking hand and laid to rest. And I can't shake that feeling that that WAS the last time I ever stroked B.C, and that WAS the last time I saw her peaceful exspression before she was buried under the lemon tree and cascaded with flowers from the garden.
And as I write this, tear fall down my face, because I can't handle grief, it's my first time, all that fond love is pouring out, yet I want it to stay, because I struggle to face the fact that
SHE IS DEAD.
It's obvious, she's not on her bench, meawing and shivering with athritis, she's not trying to climb through the window into the living room. And the cat at my grandparents that was 19 years old died peacfully in my Granddads arms, unaware of my grief.
Dear B.C,
I hope you live a painless life up there.
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
:(
Lots of love,
Neina-Marie
Saturday, 29 March 2008
The meteor
WOW! This place looks incredible! I feel awesome to be here, with roo and Mech boy and everyone else who are here. Please don't be angry if you wern't!
I am the only person on here with no uniform!
I am the only person on here with no uniform!
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
I can be a secret agent!
Post from anywhere!
When you send text or photos from your mobile device to go@blogger.com they're automatically posted to your new blog.
How it works
- Send an MMS or email to go@blogger.com from your phone
- We'll reply with the address of your new mobile blog, plus a claim code
- Post to your new mobile blog, or use the claim code to link your phone to a different blog
Devices and more
Blogger Mobile works with any device that can send email via MMS.
Blogger Mobile is also built into some Sony Ericsson cameraphones, so you can post to your blog with just a few clicks.
For more about mobile blogging, read On the Go with Blogger Mobile.
iPhone users: Phones without MMS can still post to Blogger via email with Mail2Blogger.
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
Easter bedtime story
Sofia snuggled under the covers, snorting with laughter as her mother tickled her mercilessly. "What do you want?" Sofia called from under the covers when a knock on the door issued to her ears.
"Can I come in?" Laina called.
"Ok!" Mum said.
The three of them lay in the queen-sized bed, breathing deeply, giggling as someone nudged them in the stomach.
"Do you know what day today is?" asked Mum to Sofia.
"No."
"It's Easter Friday. If you want I'll tell you the story."
So Laina and Sofia clasped their mother and were whirlled back a thousand years, maybe more.
Once upon a time, a man named Jesus lived. He was good, kind and helpful. His mother Mary and father Joseph were good and kind too.
But people in his village despised him. 'Get rid of him!' they spat, and found Jesus. They scentenced him to death.
On friday, Jesus was stripped of his clothing, and was was ordered to carry a heavy wooden cross. People laughed as he dropped the cross, twice. The third time he did, a man was told to carry it for Jesus.
Two robbers were at the sight. They were nailed to heavy crosses identical to Jesuses. They looked at the man in front of them, limping towards his death place. One moaned 'I am sorry for what I have done. Please have mercy!' People laughed, but Jesus looked him in the eye and said 'you have done a good thing. Remorse is recovery. You shall be spared.'
But not spared from death. The other robber moaned, and Jesuses cross was lain on the ground. He lay ontop of it, and cringed in pain as his hands were nailed to the cross, then his feet. The cross was lifted to standing postion. An evil man produced a crown of thorns and rested it on Jesuses head, and then pushed it hard. Blood trickled from his fore-head.
Mary and her friends ran up to Jesuses cross, crying.

Joseph followed. Jesus gave his parents a little smile and closed his eyes.
After a few minutes a man walked up to Jesuses side. He touched the still-warm cheek. 'He is dead!' the man called to the crowd. 'Are you sure?' someone shouted. The man pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced the side of our heros body.
Cheers rose from the crowd. Tears fell down Marys cheeks as she watched her son die.
After the crowds dissapeared, Mary, Joseph and other followers took poor Jesus down from the cross. They lifted him into white sheets and wrapped him up. They laid him in a cave, and struggled with a heavy stone. At last, when the stone was over the burial chamber, they left the cave in tears.
Three days passed. Joseph and Mary, who missed their sone terribly, decided, on the third day, they would check up on their son. When they gathered the people who had witnessed his body being hid ftrom evil, they marched on down to the spot. The rolled the stone off the entrance and gasped.

HE WAS GONE!!!
Mary began to cry. A beautiful angel came down from the clouds and said 'Your son is ok. Jesus is up in heaven with his father.'
When she dissapeared, a white-robed man with dark hair and beard and twinlking eyes emerged, smiling and opening his arms wide, letting love escape.
"OK!" Mum said briskly, "Bedtime!"
"Wow!" said Laina, "Cool story!"
"Yah, cool sorty," said Sofia, getting muddled.
"Lie down and fall asleep," Mum said, "Beddiebyes."
As Laina fell asleep, she dreamed of Jesus. Being a Christian, she felt no distain to the story - for it was not a story, it was the truth.
And Sofia - well, for a five-year-old, they care about chocolate!
"Can I come in?" Laina called.
"Ok!" Mum said.
The three of them lay in the queen-sized bed, breathing deeply, giggling as someone nudged them in the stomach.
"Do you know what day today is?" asked Mum to Sofia.
"No."
"It's Easter Friday. If you want I'll tell you the story."
So Laina and Sofia clasped their mother and were whirlled back a thousand years, maybe more.
Once upon a time, a man named Jesus lived. He was good, kind and helpful. His mother Mary and father Joseph were good and kind too.
But people in his village despised him. 'Get rid of him!' they spat, and found Jesus. They scentenced him to death.
On friday, Jesus was stripped of his clothing, and was was ordered to carry a heavy wooden cross. People laughed as he dropped the cross, twice. The third time he did, a man was told to carry it for Jesus.
Two robbers were at the sight. They were nailed to heavy crosses identical to Jesuses. They looked at the man in front of them, limping towards his death place. One moaned 'I am sorry for what I have done. Please have mercy!' People laughed, but Jesus looked him in the eye and said 'you have done a good thing. Remorse is recovery. You shall be spared.'
But not spared from death. The other robber moaned, and Jesuses cross was lain on the ground. He lay ontop of it, and cringed in pain as his hands were nailed to the cross, then his feet. The cross was lifted to standing postion. An evil man produced a crown of thorns and rested it on Jesuses head, and then pushed it hard. Blood trickled from his fore-head.
Mary and her friends ran up to Jesuses cross, crying.
Joseph followed. Jesus gave his parents a little smile and closed his eyes.
After a few minutes a man walked up to Jesuses side. He touched the still-warm cheek. 'He is dead!' the man called to the crowd. 'Are you sure?' someone shouted. The man pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced the side of our heros body.
Cheers rose from the crowd. Tears fell down Marys cheeks as she watched her son die.
After the crowds dissapeared, Mary, Joseph and other followers took poor Jesus down from the cross. They lifted him into white sheets and wrapped him up. They laid him in a cave, and struggled with a heavy stone. At last, when the stone was over the burial chamber, they left the cave in tears.
Three days passed. Joseph and Mary, who missed their sone terribly, decided, on the third day, they would check up on their son. When they gathered the people who had witnessed his body being hid ftrom evil, they marched on down to the spot. The rolled the stone off the entrance and gasped.
HE WAS GONE!!!
Mary began to cry. A beautiful angel came down from the clouds and said 'Your son is ok. Jesus is up in heaven with his father.'
When she dissapeared, a white-robed man with dark hair and beard and twinlking eyes emerged, smiling and opening his arms wide, letting love escape.
"OK!" Mum said briskly, "Bedtime!"
"Wow!" said Laina, "Cool story!"
"Yah, cool sorty," said Sofia, getting muddled.
"Lie down and fall asleep," Mum said, "Beddiebyes."
As Laina fell asleep, she dreamed of Jesus. Being a Christian, she felt no distain to the story - for it was not a story, it was the truth.
And Sofia - well, for a five-year-old, they care about chocolate!
Saturday, 8 March 2008
LOL!
What other things do you know? Do you know ROFL or HHH (hahaha)? Please, let me know,
LOL,
NEINA!
LOL,
NEINA!
Tuesday, 4 March 2008
Year 7
I really like Year seven. I think it's fun, I don't want to go home, and I love the way Mr Woody teaches. I think Peachgrove is really cool. I want to know if you agree with me.
Please, I want to know what the years eights feel about schooling.
Please, I want to know what the years eights feel about schooling.
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