Balance Beam

I want it so bad, my heart it aches
I’ve gotten so close; I can’t put on the breaks.
I’ve given my soul, my heart, and my tears.
This is what I have been working for all these years.

My stomach is twisted and curled in knots,
I look out in the crowd and all I can see is spots.
The beam is floating one thousand feet high.
It’s as thin as a toothpick, something I can’t deny.

As the judge salutes and my heart becomes a drum,
All I hear is the thump; my face could be color of a plum.
I now face this challenge head on and with pride
All the hard work is have slaved will now be applied.

3rd Quarter ORB Review

The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks. Grand Central Publishing, 2009. Genre: Fiction

The Last Song is a novel of compelling love and friendship, between two teenagers, coming from different backgrounds, different social groups, and totally different lifestyles. Ronnie and Will met at a pick up volleyball game at a carnival during the first day Ronnie was in Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. Nothing came about this relationship until Ronnie brought a nest of baby sea turtles to the aquarium where Will worked, and their love kicked off. From that day on, their love grew and Ronnie found herself along with finding the love she had lost for her father.


"Nicholas Spark's blockbuster novels are like hot buttery Orville Redenbacher for the soul: highly consumable, comforting, and by definition pretty corny," reads an Entertainment Weekly review.

Nicholas Sparks' writing style is unique compared to many other books I have read. He changed characters from chapter to chapter. The story was written in the third person, but each chapter focused on the events and feelings of that particular character. This style really familiarizes the reader with all of the characters, and I feel like it gave the novel a better connection with the reader, because you felt like you knew each of the characters, and we got all aspects of the story. This novel also really focused on love. It focused how love is blind, and no matter who you are or where you come from, if you have a connection, nothing matters. It also focuses on the love of family, and trust in that family.

This book reminded me of Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper. That book had the similar format of focusing on different character's each chapter. I liked this book better though, because I felt more connected with the book and the characters.

"Sometimes you have to be apart from the people you love, but that doesn't make you love them any less. Sometimes it makes you love them more" (238). This quote shows the amount of emotion,love, and inspiration that Spark brings to his stories.

I love Spark's work. When I sit down to read a few pages I find myself still reading an hour later. His novels are so inspirational and emotional that it is impossible for the reader not to become attatched. I also related to this book, because it was about a teenager, and I learned from it because it is about her finding her true self. I absolutely loved this book and I recommend it for any girls who like love stories (I do not recommend it for any boys). I am looking forward to reading another one of Spark's novels in the future.

The Struggles of Life

Today in society, people encounter obstacles that are like roadblocks in their paths to achieving success, but we must overcome these hardships, and grow as better, stronger, and more enlightened individuals. The obstacles that we face shape us, and we take the results and lessons we learn from our struggles day to day, conquer them, and move on to the next. Some harsher struggles that we face, we carry with us after we have been defeated or have had the strength to overcome. Humans can face struggles as small as walking around a crack in a sidewalk, to fighting a chronic disease for the rest of your life. We take the baggage with us as we continue, working past everything we face as we climb the mountain of life.

In Ernest Hemingway's novella, The Old Man and the Sea, the old fisherman, Santiago, is no repudiation of this fact of life. Santiago faces hardships that he must overcome to succeed in a once in a life time opportunity to catch his brilliantly audacious fish with its fascinating size, massive strength, and its unyielding fight. The situation he faces is more complex than just him catching a big fish, because in his conquest he faces severe obstacles that he must fight and overcome, and his decisions, and actions of these fights show his true character and the ambition that he possesses.

The first struggle that Santiago faces is the vast sea and his once-in-a-lifetime catch, with merely his own two hands. Manolin, a younger enthusiastic friend of Santiago, offered his assistance, being a benevolent man, Santiago, declined that offer, looking out for what was best for the boy. Santiago being alone really takes a toll on him in being successful in catching his brilliant marlin, and shows how his determination and pride are undeniably great in his fight in this almost impossible situation.

It is evident that Santiago is fully aware of this obstacle, because of the multiple times he speaks about the boy, like when he says "I wish I had the boy" (45). This shows that Santiago knows that if he had assistance, he would have been able to catch his marlin with much more ease and in a calmer manner. The way that he "wishes" he had the boy shows how he almost is almost remorseful with his decision to take on the sea by himself. This feeling then changed when he faced this struggle head on, and continued to fight for his pride and dignity hooked on the end of the line.

The second struggle that Santiago faces in his fight, is the frustrating cramping of his left hand when he was going into his first night at sea. Santiago knows that this is not in his favor to win the battle with his intelligent fish on the line. Santiago speaks to his hand, as though it is not a part of him, and rather an outside being when he says "Cramp then if you want. Make yourself into a claw. It will do no good" (58). The fact that Santiago does this really shows how he knows he must keep himself focused and not let his head get fooled or distracted by things that will stop him from getting his prize. Santiago also treats his hand like an antagonist of his fight. When he says "it will do no good" really represents how nothing can stop him, no matter how hard he must fight, he is not willing to give up on what he has finally earned after 84 strenuous days of no luck and no fish.

Another frustrating struggle that Santiago faces is the deprivations that he encounters. Santiago had a very minute supply of food and water, and was running on a lack of sleep. Santiago faces this struggle in two ways. The first is that he tries not to dwell on the fact that he is slowly dying out at sea, and just focus on his goal. The second way is that he knows that in order to reach his goal, he has to face this obstacle and beat it. This shows how Santiago is not only determined but also wise and cautious in his quest, and knows that in order to reach his goal, he also has to take care of himself.

"It is half a day and a night and now another day and you have not slept. You must devise a way so that you sleep a little if [the marlin] is quiet and steady. If you do not sleep you might become unclear in the head" (77). This exemplifies that Santiago is aware of the situation he is facing, and he also knows that he needs to be proactive about this situation, and do something about it before it is too late and he does not succeed. In the way that Santiago faces these struggles shows that he knows everything he does in his struggle is important, and will affect him in the end of his fight.

The fourth and final struggle that Santiago faces is his encounter with the antagonistic sharks. After Santiago had been successful in reeling the marlin, he had tied it to the side of his skiff, because of its overbearing size. This then attracted scavenging sharks that were looking for a hearty meal and they found it. This challenge that he faced really taught Santiago an important lesson and changed his outlook on his journey.

This taught him that he should have never gone out so far to catch his fish: "I shouldn't have gone out so far, fish" (110). This shows the regret that Santiago now has because he did not overcome this obstacle. The regret that he now had from this situation showed him that he should have thought about everything: the size of the fish, his equipment, the size of the boat, his strength before he took on this great battle. Santiago not overcoming this challenge taught him a lesson, and he will take that lesson with him for the rest of his life with him, and also the regret that he has for not being able to overcome that challenge.

The challenges that Santiago faced in the "Old Man and the Sea" may be different than the struggles that people face in their day to day lives. But, these challenges are similar because they bring out who we truly are and the actions that we take to overcome these obstacles, and the lessons that we learn from them. Santiago faced situations that affected the outcome of his journey, just like the challenges that we face that effect the rest of our lives.

Finding My True Mother

I have never seen my baby pictures; I have never heard stories about my first words or first wobbly steps. I do not carry memories of my nightmares being quelled by my mother in the middle of a cold stormy night with me like many other people do. My mother would have never done this for me. When I was only a child, she relegated out of my life. She left me in my oversized crib wrapped in a deteriorating blanket she engulfed with her warm-vanilla perfume. Well, this is what multiple adoption agencies have told me. She left me to face the world on my own; she left me to a life full of questions. What did my mother look like? What would my life have been like if I lived in one home with one family for the first fifteen years of my life – rather than four? Why did my mother leave me? Most importantly: Who am I?

Now that I am a teenager, this question becomes more significant in my life. Every day I go to school as a recluse with my face hidden behind my long curly blonde hair, and my thin arms tensely wrapped around my books, hoping people would just ignore that I even exist. When I walk from class to class, I see beautiful, confident girls who are comfortable in their own skin - something that I wish I could be. I know that I would be confident in myself if I just met my mother. I would be able to ask her the myriad questions that I have about myself, so that I could truly know who I am. Knowing who I am is the first step to other people knowing the true me, and to accept me. I want to fill the hole in my heart that my mother made the day she walked out of my life.

This was what I thought before March 20, 2010.

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March 20, 2010 was the day that I decided to find my mother. I had gone through my daily morning routine of waking up to the extremely loud beeps of my alarm clock, washing my face, trying to clean away unkempt looks that my short six hours of sleep has provided to my face, and whipping up a dozen eggs for my brothers and sisters while my foster parents packed their lunch boxes. I then ran out the door, desperately sprinting to catch my bus. Luckily, my bus driver, Gus, had a late start at D&D's to buy his three daily donuts. He was more of a glutton than anyone I had ever met, but he was one of my true friends in high school
As I approached my bus, and walked up the few stairs, I slipped on a piece of ice that had fallen off of the sole of one of my classmates shoes. I heard multiple laughs and rude remarks in attempt for some puerile “cool” boys on my bus to get their morning pick-me-ups. My face then took on the shade of an apple. I sunk into my seat behind Gus, and he gave me a piece of his jelly donut. I really liked Gus, and if it wasn't for him, I don't think I would have been able to make it through high school. The few moments that I had with my buddy on the bus then ended when we turned the sharp corner onto Hill Street, into the parking lot of a building of ridicule; my high school.
I would go to school day to day, knowing that I would be made fun of at least once in the long six hours there. People found joy in my pain, and thought that if they made fun of me for my dysfunctional childhood, they would feel cool and powerful. Is this what my mother wanted? Did she want my life to be torture? When I was walking off the bus into the frigid winter air, I decided that the moment I got home that afternoon, I would find my mother.
Finally, the ever-so-slow minute hand on the clock had reached the twelve, the gentle bell rang, and let to the rumble of many students rushing to their cars roared in the hallways. As many of the people from my classes walked out to the student parking lot to their new fancy BMW's and Volvos, I approached my means of transportation: the big yellow bus.
After I had my quick snack, I paced into the computer room, and started to search for my mother; the mystery woman. After a few clicks, I found enough information that would allow me to easily contact her. Eagerly, I grasped the house phone, and called the Rehabilitation Center, in which Google said she had been residing. I did not know if this was a sign that this was a bad idea or not, but I did not care, and I began to dial the ten digit number. I was sanguine. My hands were trembling, and my stomach was in knots. I had never been so nervous, because I knew that this would be the conversation that would change my life. I was then startled out of my nervousness by the receptionist’s magnanimous voice. I spoke to her for a few moments, and she then connected me to my mother. I don’t think I have ever been so nervous in my life. My face was sweating, my hands were shaking, and my heart was pulsing a thousand times a minute. Why was this happening? She was just my mother.
“Hello?” her voice sounded like a stranger.
I was speechless, when I opened my mouth to speak nothing leaked out.
“Hellooooo?”
“Mom… Hello…. It’s your daughter, Jamie,” these words have never come out of my mouth.
“What do you mean? How did you find me,” to my surprise she did not seem elated. She sounded like she did not want to hear my voice.
“It wasn’t hard; I just searched on the internet. Would you want to get together, maybe this weekend? I would love to meet you, and ask you a few questions. Maybe we could fix things, maybe you could be in my life again… Mom I need you,” I had spilled my heart to her hoping she would give me a chance.
“Um, I’m sorry…. This isn’t a good time. I have to go,” she said it like she didn’t even care.
I was speechless again when I heard the heartbreaking dial tone. This was not the speechlessness that I had before, though. I was not hoping, praying, excitement that made me speechless. It was disappointment, failure, hate, and disapproval. These diverse feelings all converging to make the hole in my heart augmented.
I sat there, sitting on the cold wooden chair staring at my phone for over an hour, alone. I will never find myself. The questions that I have been dying to answer my whole life will remain unanswered until the day I die.
Then, the door crept open. It was my foster mom. She heard me sobbing, and ran into the room.
“Honey what’s wrong?”
“She doesn’t love me. She will never love me,” everything I was feeling inside of me burst through my skin and into these words.
She pulled me into her loving arms. She held me there, assuaging me, comforting me, wiping away my tears. She told me she loved me.
It was that moment that I realized that my mother was not the woman who gave birth to me. It was the woman that loved me, the woman that raised me, and the woman that truly cared about me. My true mother was the woman that was holding me in her arms. I had finally found myself. The hole in my heart had been filled, I now new the true meaning of family, and the true meaning of love.

From that day on, I went to school with my head held high. I went to school with my hair pulled out of my face, so that everyone could see me smile. I made new friends, and was garrulous and loving to everyone. This was what I wanted my whole life. Everyone could see the true me. Everyone could see the real Jamie.

2nd Quarter ORB Review

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls. Scribner New York 2005. Genre: Memoir

The glass castle is a heartwarming memoir that tells the story of the life of a dysfunctional family, and the importance of love and respect. The Walls are not an average family. They are a nomadic family that moves from place to place throughout the western U.S., in search for gold to fund the family’s dream of building a glass castle. Jeanette’s mother and father were definitely different than most parents. The main things that they taught to their children were to live life to the fullest, and have no fears. The pursuit of these things resulted in the dysfunctional childhood of their children, and their fast transformation into adults. When time got to tough, money was getting to tight, and their parents were getting to crazy, the Walls children had to venture out into the real world, and work for their own survival without the protection of their parents, but they brought the values that they learned from their parents with them to wherever life and the world took them.
“Some people are born storytellers. Some lives are worth telling. The best memoirs happen when these two conditions converge. In The Glass Castle, they have,” reads the book jacket.
The story is told in a way that shows the adolescence that Jeanette had when she was a child growing up the way she did, and how she was naïve in certain situations that she faced in her adventures with her family. As the story progresses, Jeanette starts to show the maturity she had, and that deeper understanding of the circumstances that she was facing in her survival with her irresponsible parents.
The writing style of this book reminded me of the writing style that Harper Lee used in her book To Kill a Mockingbird because she also made maturity and understanding a big part of the her book and her writing style. She really shows the intellectual growth that the children go through throughout the book, and their deeper understanding of important social issues (especially Jem), and that resembles the writing style of Jeanette Walls in this book.
"A lot of our neighbors on North Third Street were weird. A clan of Gypsies lived down the block in a big, falling-apart house with plywood nailed over the porch to create more indoor space" (page 102) This is when Jeanette is still young, and this quote shows how the author shows her age in the way she writes.
I really enjoyed this book. I thought every detail in it was important to the story, and the story had a huge amount of life. When I began reading it I could not stop turning the pages, because every memory that Jeanette put in her book was more exciting than the last. I also had a personal connection to the book, because it made me appreciate my childhood, and the guidance my parents have provided for me, and everything they do that isn’t always in their best interest, they do it because they care about me. These are some of the things that the Walls children never had growing up, and that was what made the story so powerful.

My Phone Is Not Just Beachy-Keene

In the days of a failing economy, and the demand for perfection and wealth, what really is valuable? Do we value our highly priced sports cars, overly priced hair products, or just the little things that are meaningful to us. Do we value the memorable moments that we go through, and we will remember throughout our lifetime? Do we value expensive things just because we spend huge amounts of money on them and would not just throw away money for anything. As I think about what I value, I realize that value does not mean “price” it means the things that I hold tight to my heart, and will never forget.

Finally, today – the best day of the year- my family will be leaving for our annual Cape Cod vacation. As I stumble into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, excitement is building inside of me, like a volcano ready to burst, when I think about all of the mini golf, ice cream, and beach days that I will be encountering when I get down to the Cape. I run downstairs to ask my mom when we will be leaving, hoping that she tells me soon. She doesn’t let me down, saying that once I get all my luggage in the car, we will be on our way. So I run back up the stairs and grab all my bags, throw them down the stairs, and quickly run to fetch them. When I walk out to the car, I can feel the warm sun kiss my skin, knowing that tomorrow I will be spending my whole day laying under this same sun, but I will be relaxing on the warm sand surrounded by the sounds of gentle the ocean. As I stuff all of my luggage in the backseat of my dad's truck (I tend to overpack), and slam the door, I begin my way back to my house, and bug my parents until they finally hop into the tightly packed car. YES! We are on our way to the Cape.
The drive to the Cape is an easy two-and-a-half hours, which is not too bad because my best friend Colleen is sitting beside me, constantly talking or making me laugh. Colleen comes with me on my family vacation every year, and every year is better than the previous. We are always on our bikes through the bike trails along the beach, at the marketplace indulging with ice cream and candy, or at the beach having a blast in the crisp, cool ocean water. The is never a dull moment in Cape Cod, and you never have to worry about what you look like, wear, or do, because everyone is just there for a fun time.
At last, we pull into my aunt’s driveway, just yards from the beach (we stay with her for the week), and Colleen and I are absolutely thrilled. We hop out of my dad’s Chevy truck, bring our bags inside and greet my Auntie. Once we are settled in, Colleen and I walk down the stairs of my aunt’s deck, and we run to our bikes. We hop on, and begin to peddle furiously towards the ocean. We arrive in less than thirty seconds, drop our bikes, and walk towards the dune deck, where we look out to see the beautiful horizon. By now, it is sunset, and the warm glowing colors of oranges, purples, reds and pinks suck me into their beauty, and I am now wishing I could live this moment every day of my life.

It is now six o’clock am, and I awake from my deep sleep to the loud consecutive beeps of my cell phone. Without my cell phone, I would probably be tardy to school more days than I could count. I then grab that evil “sleep-wrecker” device, wipe my eyes, and get ready for a long, tedious day at school. With my phone in hand, I look to see if I have any new messages that I have received from my friends while I was catching up on some beauty sleep. I am not surprised when my inbox says I have three new messages. My soccer practice has been cancelled for today, my essay (that I spent countless hours on) is actually NOT due tomorrow, and my dance studio will be having a potluck dinner tomorrow night. All three of these messages are very important for making sure I am on track with my schedule, thanks to my friends and their obsessive texting. As I run out to my car to wait for my dad who will be driving me to school, I press a few buttons on my phone, and “Party In the USA” begins to fill the car; the tune getting me pumped for a .. not so exciting day at school.
The dismissal bell has rung, and I can finally go home and relax. As I reveal my purple bus pass to my bus driver, I reach for the back pocket of my backpack, and grasp my old scratched up cell phone. Each scratch represents a moment or memory that happened when I had this phone, and the many times I have dropped it when I was to excited or angry to remember that if I break it I will have to pay for a new one. My mom has warned me multiple times of my overuse of my "world connector" device. That is really what my phone is, a world connector device, it keeps me in touch with all of my friends, for just fun social purposed, and for more serious purposes like when they give me news about school or about changes in my constantly changing soccer scheduele. Without my phone, I would be totally out of the loop, confused, and off track – so it is basically my savior.
My phone doesn’t have any “fancy-smancy” touch screen, or have changeable keyboards, but in my eyes, it is like gold. It does what it needs to do for me, and is not so expensive that I am afraid to take it out of my pocket, because, oh my gosh, it will get a scratch. I take it everywhere with me, and I have dropped it countless times without a fuss, so my plain old Verizon flip phone is more valuable to me than anything high-tech and expensive.


Although I constantly have my phone with me, and I only visit the Cape once a year, the relaxation and comfort that that vacation gives me is also given to me by my phone. My phone is like a teddy bear to me, and I am just not complete without it. If I don’t have it, I am an absolute wreck (not to sound obsessed ... but its true), but when I do have it I am comforted, relaxed and in the know with everything going on. I also value my phone and vacations for different reasons, because while my relaxing beach vacation takes me away from the stressful world of homework and gossip, my phone connects me with it. When I am sitting on the warm beach listening to the sound of the waves crash against the shore and dance with the sand, my mind is not really thinking about anything. But on the other hand, when I hear my phone vibrate across my room at two o’clock on a Friday night, with a new text from my friend Amanda telling me that soccer practice is changed to seven the next morning when I am still up watching TV, my mind isn’t exactly in such an tranquil state.
Neither my phone nor my Cape Cod vacations are expensive or elaborate, but two me, they are two of the few things that I really value. My trip to the Cape isn’t any sophisticated trip to Jamaica, but it is a time that I can just relax, have fun, and spend time with the people that I love most in my life. My phone isn’t any hot item either, but just my scratched up flip phone is what I cherish. To me, this is what value means, something that you cherish and hold close to your heart. I really could care less to have the most expensive items, as long as I am getting the best out of everything I have and enjoy life to the fullest, so the little things in my life are what I value and cherish most.

First Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, Little, Brown and Company, 2002 Genre: Fiction


The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold is about a 14-year-old girl named Susie Salmon, who is raped and murdered by her neighbor, George Harvey, while taking a shortcut on her walk home from school. The book is told by Susie, from “her heaven”, where she watches her family and friends suffer from her disappearance and her killer try to cover his tracks. The book takes place in Susie’s hometown, Norristown, Pennsylvania, where her parents struggle to maintain their relationship, her sister becomes a woman, and Mr. Harvey live his life like nothing happened.

“Mesmerizing….Sebold deals with almost unthinkable subjects with humor and intelligence and a kind of mysterious grace,” reads the book jacket. (Monica Wood, San Francisco Chronicle)

The Lovely Bones is a compelling story that is told in the eyes of a 14-year-old who is watching Earth from heaven. She tells us everything she witnesses, and gives her opinions and ideas about people, conflicts, and other crucial events that are happening in her loved ones lives down on Earth, all that are the result of her sudden disappearance. Susie’s friendly, humorous personality makes situations that would normally be disturbing and unreadable suspenseful and fascinating.

The Lovely Bones has quite a similar effect on the reader as A Child Called It by David Pelzer. The authors take on horrifying conflicts, but somehow give them charm, and make them very attention-grabbing. The stories are both told from the eyes of the main characters, so their views, details, and comments on events in the story give the books life.

“When my father’s car pulled into the drive, I was beginning to wonder if this had been what I’d been waiting for, for my family to come home, not to me anymore but to one another with me gone. In the afternoon light my father looked smaller somehow, thinner, but his eyes looked grateful in a way they had not in years” (316)

I really enjoyed this novel by Sebold. I am often not a huge fan of reading, and I only read when I have to for school, but that was not true for this book. I really enjoyed this book. I liked reading it in my spare time, because the author made the plot very suspenseful and exciting, and included vivid details throughout the book. This book gave me a deeper understanding of how tragedies like murders affect whole communities, and break relationships, friendships, and other things that were previously so strong. It made me grateful for everything I have, and that I have not gone through heartbreak like the one in this book. I enjoyed how the author was not timid at all throughout the book, giving amazing details, realistic dialogue, and a very compelling story.