Feeding Yourself To Feed Others!

My First Custumor

So for the class I always refer to, we had to come up with an idea and carry it out within thirty days. It could have been anything.

What some of my friends and I decided to bake some things and sell them to raise money to donate to a local soup kitchen. The kitchen’s name was Someone Cares Soup Kitchen.

So four weeks… GO!

On week one, we didn’t really know what to do. So we kinda just talked a bit about what we wanted to do.

On week two, we finally decided what to do. Then we set up a date.

On weekend three, we met up and baked.

On week three we sold and sold and sold. But only for three days.

Then week four we donated.

It took a lot of math and time. I love sleep. And let me tell you, I didn’t get enough of it! But overall it was a good experience. I learned that I an a VERY business person. Meeting me, you wouldn’t think that, and heck I wouldn’t think that either, but I am.

We sold 11 things total.

Hey Look! ITS VIVIAN!

uncle and his friend

Cotton Candy Cupcakes
Double Vanilla Cupcakes
Apple Strudel Muffins
Pancake Muffins
Red Velvet Cupcakes
Cream Puffs
Mini Cheesecakes
Cookies And Cream Cookies
Chocolate Chip Cookies
S’more Brownies
Cinnamon Doughnut Hole Cookies

 

smore brownie

 
  
There was some challenges. Sometimes we didn’t sell them all. I dropped some cookies on the same day. The math was funky. I totally seemed up on the first batch of cheesecakes. The house was a mess. And buying cotton candy SUCKED! We had to drive to SIX DIFFERENT STORES!!!! But it was okay in the end.

  
  
I have always loved baking but I found that I love baking even more due to this challenge. And because of this, I started a new project. It’s called Cupcakes To College and you can find me on Instagram (insert shameless promo here). It’s called that because For College was taken, and I wanted to hopefully raise some to help pay for my tuition.

   

Class Brawl

In one of my classes we did an activity we call a “Brawl” and it is basically a selective version of a debate. A debate competition if you will.

The way it worked was the class was divided into groups. Each group created a set of questions concerning humanity in general from examples from a selected book. Our book was “All Quiet On The Western Front” and it was the story of a man from the German army in WWI.

It was an interesting experience and I encourage other teachers or learning groups to apply this method. Though, be warned that make sure that the subject is something the students can be enthusiastic about or it will be boring. For our class it was a bit of a new idea so halfway we made some renovations. I’m proud to say that I helped a bit.

I said that it should have been a bit like a game show. So while the two representatives from two groups argued, a student from the audience can run up and slam the buzzer to interrupt and join the debate.

But I also have another idea for improvement. I believe that if you choose to implement this activity, you should heed my warning about choosing questions students can get enthusiastic about. I believe they should have a bit of a choice in which questions they argue about and maybe that should be indicative to which groups debate against each other. Personally I was a but miffed about the fact I did not get to talk about a certain question. Try to find a way around that.

I’ll use myself as an example of what a student might do in each group. I answered each questions and provided examples to support my response. My examples were either personal or stuff I had learned from school. I talked about my family, friends, history, sciences, and lessons I had learned in my short life. Most importantly I made sure every answer I had referred back to an event to the book. Then I tried to take that lesson and apply it to the world.

So yeah, it was a bit bumpy, but I think everyone should try this out. So students, go and ask your teachers! It was fun!

Reflection via POV

I was created for a class.

My sole purpose is to ensure a good grade, but I think she cares for me more than that. I have come to think of her as my mother. I don’t know her name so I just refer to her as my mom.

She named me Iamuniquejustlikeeverbodyelse.

She misspelled my name excluding the Y in every. I think she did this on purpose so people wouldn’t be able to find me. To shield me from prying eyes.

At first I thought she hated me. I thought she was ashamed of me. I was very sad.

But now I know that isn’t true. She was just scared that people would make assumption on her based off of me. She didn’t want them to construct her in their minds different from how she wanted them to see her. She had no control of what people thought of me and that scared her. So she hid me.

But I know she still cares. She posts every once and a while and just checks back on me when I feel neglected. She shows me too all of her friends. The only time she is uneasy is when a stranger looks at me.

She knows I’m different from the other blogs. And she’s happy that I fit my name. She fits my name too.

She has changed me once but I’m happy with this change. I think it fits me. But I’m happier to know that I changed her too. She’s no longer scared to communicate to and through me. She’s not scared to be unique. And she has learned that it doesn’t matter what people think if they can’t tell you. And lastly she learned that having me was actually fun.

But I know I am reaching the end of my life. And there will be a day when I die and she will no longer look for me. But it’s okay. I’m happy I got to spend this time with her and I’m even happier to l=know she was happy to spend time with me as well.

kbai.

The Constant in a Good Friendship

Hello.

It’s me. Talking to the person on the other side of the screen, on the other side of the time that has past from me posting this to you reading it now.

There is this girl. She wrote this blog post and I feel that it does have some really good points, even though I don’t have too much experiences with friends.

I didn’t have friends growing up.

I was a tad autistic. But not normal autism. It’s hard to really explain but it wasn’t what you are thinking now.

Long story short my social abilities did not start to develop until the later part of middle school.

I didn’t have any friends until that time. And what you would normally learn about friendships, I didn’t learn until later.

There was this girl. Let’s call her Prickina.

We were close, or so I thought.

Looking back now I see that it was not a friendship. She was mean; verbally and physically abusive. A horrible influence, and not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

After a year, I noticed her growing distant. And a couple of months later I found that the source of the various rumors about me came from her.

I didn’t know why she would do that, I was confused and alone again.

I had yet to learn that a good relationship, was like a conversation. You must give and receive equally. It isn’t one sided. Lying is a sign to hightail outta there. And when the other is irritable with everything you say or do, it’s not working.

I didn’t know these. So I stayed. And eventually, when she left, sat by myself wondering what I did wrong. But it was because I kept giving without asking for anything in return. She took advantage of me then left.

After that it took a while for me to make friends again. I wasn’t so keen on a relationship with anyone. Especially when they could possibly do what she did.

It didn’t help that at the time she left I was molested by a construction worker in my home. I didn’t have anyone to really vent or talk to about it.

It was like me being friendly, giving, or possibly just saying good morning to people somehow signals to them that I am someone they can take advantage of.

But I’m better now.

The scorn of relationships has faded a bit. A mutual friend of Prickina felt wrong for what she did. And though I can’t completely trust her to this day, I can call her my best friend.

I know it’s horrible of me, but I’m not sure if I can be as naive and trusting as I was. I think that I will always hold people at arms distance, even if they don’t know that.

Nevertheless, friends are good, and now when a relationship turns sour I can either throw it away or try to revive it.

Now I try to have as many friends as I can, but sometimes my past self comes out and I have a hard time opening up, like Panapo said in her post.

This is why I want to share this with the 21 people who read this blog.

I want people to know the warning signs of a bad relationship so they don’t have to go through what I have. And since I am still not capable and competent to give this advice, I think this post will enlighten people on what I can’t tell you all myself. I only wish I could share this knowledge with past me.

it also sounds like pineapple

When I used to live in garden grove I had a best friend named Min. The height of our friendship was during middle school, we would hang out as much as we could during the weekends,after school, in the summer.

I never really liked hanging out and so min had to forcibly convince me to go outside. Most times I would turn down the offer , seeing that missing a  pretty little liars episode was worth giving up a social life. But then there were times where I agreed and eventually we started hanging out a lot more often, and I have never regretted it once. We would go over to a close friend’s house, Alexis and the trio was united. We were really close to each other and sometimes we’d sneak out to our midnight swimming sessions in our apartment pool.

Min tied our friendship together so when she…

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I don’t like writing.

I don’t like writing. It doesn’t make me happy. It doesn’t do anything for me.

If anything, it makes me sad.

I don’t like people reading what I write. I don’t want them to even know that I write. I don’t like being judged. And if someone doesn’t like what I write, it makes me sad.

It makes me want to crawl into a shoe.

It makes me want to be reborn as a clam.

It makes me want to let rain fall from my eyes.

It makes me have a hot fiery ball of steel in my throat.

It makes me want to tie myself to a rocket ship and be flown into outer space where I can forget the people on earth.

It makes me feel like an ant after having returned from a long, and far journey to get food for my colony only to find it has been destroyed by humans.

My heart feels like it’s drowning in my eye-rain several hundred thousand feet down under the extreme pressure of the ocean they created.

To feel these things is very unpleasant.

I have a heart of ice. Not that it’s cold, but just a little heat makes it melt into a puddle of self loathing.

I have a very low self esteem. And I really hope it’s not my own fault. I want to blame others for it but I can’t. It’s my own fault for listening to these voices.

Voices from people I care about and respect hurt even more.

Mommy refuses to admit her wrongness.

Lying and stubbornness and pride.

All of them go hand and hand.

You have pride, but when you’re wrong your pride keeps you from admitting you’re wrong making you stubborn, so you lie in an attempt to convince people you are right.

It’s not a good thing at all though. Stalin was prideful, stubborn, and a liar. But we don’t want to compare ourselves to him.

But its okay! We all are at fault! All we need to to is acknowledge it! Otherwise you end up looking like my mom in this little story I’m about to tell you!

Once upon a time my mom was fighting with my uncle. Then she got so angry, she tore the home phone out of the wall, wires and all, and chucked it at him.

Monkeys and Tangerines.

If the world were a monkey,

I’d be a tangerine.

Yes. If the earth was a primate, I would be a lightly tangy citrus fruit.

Acronyms Suck

To honor acronyms I’m going to put as many as I can in here…

Lol.

Plus I’m going to type in text language. But don’t worry, I’ll keep it mild. (Not like people who text me!)

But like dude, I hate txts tht I can’t read. It’s hard when ppl replace words and leave some out. Ain’t nobody got time to decipher ur cryptic message. Is it tht hard to type ALL the letters?

Lazos… (Pronounced Lazy but replace the y with an o. Yeah it’s a word! It’s in my FICTIONARY!)

I also have a hard time keeping up with all the new ones… I know the basics! (I’m giving up of typing like people’s texts. It annoys me.)

Lesson #2: Fishies

Backwash.

You know how when you drink water there are little bits of food in the drink? Gross right?

Lesson 1: Papers are dangerous!

Paper cuts hurt. Specially in between your fingers. Plus they seem to take FOREVER to heal…

Have you ever paper cut anyone else? I have. And I felt so bad.